The Battle of the Labyrinth (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book 4)
: Chapter 17

We ran until we were exhausted. Rachel steered us away from traps, but we had no destination in mind—only away from that dark mountain and the roar of Kronos.

We stopped in a tunnel of wet white rock, like part of a natural cave. I couldn’t hear anything behind us, but I didn’t feel any safer. I could still remember those unnatural golden eyes staring out of Luke’s face, and the feeling that my limbs were slowly turning to stone.

“I can’t go any farther,” Rachel gasped, hugging her chest.

Annabeth had been crying the entire time we’d been running. Now she collapsed and put her head between her knees. Her sobs echoed in the tunnel. Nico and I sat next to each other. He dropped his sword next to mine and took a shaky breath.

“That sucked,” he said, which I thought summed things up pretty well.

“You saved our lives,” I said.

Nico wiped the dust off his face. “Blame the girls for dragging me along. That’s the only thing they could agree on. We needed to help you or you’d mess things up.”

“Nice that they trust me so much.” I shined my flashlight across the cavern. Water dripped from the stalactites like a slow-motion rain. “Nico…you, uh, kind of gave yourself away.”

“What do you mean?”

“That wall of black stone? That was pretty impressive. If Kronos didn’t know who you were before, he does now— a child of the Underworld.”

Nico frowned. “Big deal.”

I let it drop. I figured he was just trying to hide how scared he was, and I couldn’t blame him.

Annabeth lifted her head. Her eyes were red from crying. “What…what was wrong with Luke? What did they do to him?”

I told her what I’d seen in the coffin, the way the last piece of Kronos’s spirit had entered Luke’s body when Ethan Nakamura pledged his service.

“No,” Annabeth said. “That’ can’t be true. He couldn’t—”

“He gave himself over to Kronos,” I said. “I’m sorry, Annabeth. But Luke is gone.”

“No!” she insisted. “You saw when Rachel hit him.”

I nodded, looking at Rachel with respect. “You hit the Lord of the Titans in the eye with a blue plastic hairbrush.”

Rachel looked embarrassed. “It was the only thing I had.”

“But you saw,” Annabeth insisted. “When it hit him, just for a second, he was dazed. He came back to his senses.”

“So maybe Kronos wasn’t completely settled in the body, or whatever,” I said. “It doesn’t mean Luke was in control.”

“You want him to be evil, is that it?” Annabeth yelled. “You didn’t know him before, Percy. I did!”

“What is it with you?” I snapped. “Why do you keep defending him?”

“Whoa, you two,” Rachel said. “Knock it off.”

Annabeth turned on her. “Stay out of it, mortal girl! If it wasn’t for you…”

Whatever she was going to say, her voice broke. She put her head down again and sobbed miserably. I wanted to comfort her, but I didn’t know how. I still felt stunned, like Kronos’s time-slow effect had affected my brain. I just couldn’t comprehend what I’d seen. Kronos was alive. He was armed. And the end of the world was probably close at hand.

“We have to keep moving,” Nico said. “He’ll send monsters after us.”

Nobody was in any shape to run, but Nico was right. I hauled myself up and helped Rachel to her feet.

“You did good back there,” I told her.

She managed a weak smile. “Yeah, well. I didn’t want you to die.” She blushed. “I mean…just because, you know. You owe me too many favors. How am I going to collect if you die?”

I knelt next to Annabeth. “Hey, I’m sorry. We need to move.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m…I’m all right.”

She was clearly not all right. But she got to her feet, and we started straggling through the Labyrinth again.

“Back to New York,” I said. “Rachel, can you—”

I froze. A few feet in front of us, my flashlight beam fixed on a trampled clump of red fabric lying on the ground. It was a Rasta cap: the one Grover always wore.

My hands shook as I picked up the cap. It looked like it had been stepped on by a huge muddy boot. After all that I’d gone through today, I couldn’t stand the thought that something might’ve happened to Grover, too.

Then I noticed something else. The cave floor was mushy and wet from the water dripping off the stalactites. There were large footprints like Tyson’s, and smaller ones— goat hooves—leading off to the left.

“We have to follow them,” I said. “They went that way. It must have been recently.”

“What about Camp Half-Blood?” Nico said. “There’s no time.”

“We have to replace them,” Annabeth insisted. “They’re our friends.”

She picked up Grover’s smashed cap and forged ahead.

I followed, bracing myself for the worst. The tunnel was treacherous. It sloped at weird angles and was slimy with moisture. Half the time we were slipping and sliding rather than walking.

Finally we got to the bottom of a slope and found ourselves in a large cave with huge stalagmite columns. Through the center of the room ran an underground river, and Tyson was sitting by the banks, cradling Grover in his lap. Grover’s eyes were closed. He wasn’t moving.

“Tyson!” I yelled.

“Percy! Come quick!”

We ran over to him. Grover wasn’t dead, thank the gods, but his whole body trembled like he was freezing to death.

“What happened?” I asked.

“So many things,” Tyson murmured. “Large snake. Large dogs. Men with swords. But then…we got close to here. Grover was excited. He ran. Then we reached this room, and he fell. Like this.”

“Did he say anything?” I asked.

“He said, ‘We’re close.’ Then he hit his head on rocks.”

I knelt next to him. The only other time I’d seen Grover pass out was in New Mexico, when he’d felt the presence of Pan.

I shined my flashlight around the cavern. The rocks glittered. At the far end was the entrance to another cave, flanked by gigantic columns of crystal that looked like diamonds. And beyond that entrance…

“Grover,” I said. “Wake up.”

“Uhhhhhhhh.”

Annabeth knelt next to him and splashed icy cold river water in his face.

“Splurg!” His eyelids fluttered. “Percy? Annabeth? Where…”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You passed out. The presence was too much for you.”

“I—I remember. Pan.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Something powerful is just beyond that doorway.”

* * *

I made quick introductions, since Tyson and Grover had never met Rachel. Tyson told Rachel she was pretty, which made Annabeth’s nostrils flare like she was going to blow fire.

“Anyway,” I said. “Come on, Grover. Lean on me.”

Annabeth and I helped him up, and together we waded across the underground river. The current was strong. The water came up to our waists. I willed myself to stay dry, which is a handy little ability, but that didn’t help the others, and I could still feel the cold, like wading through a snowdrift.

“I think we’re in Carlsbad Caverns,” Annabeth said, her teeth chattering. “Maybe an unexplored section.”

“How do you know?”

“Carlsbad is in New Mexico,” she said. “That would explain last winter.”

I nodded. Grover’s swooning episode had happened when we passed through New Mexico. That’s where he’d felt closest to the power of Pan.

We got out of the water and kept walking. As the crystal pillars loomed larger, I started to feel the power emanating from the next room. I’d been in the presence of gods before, but this was different. My skin tingled with living energy. My weariness fell away, as if I’d just gotten a good night’s sleep. I could feel myself growing stronger, like one of those plants in a time-lapse video. And the scent coming from the cave was nothing like the dank wet underground. It smelled of trees and flowers and a warm summer day.

Grover whimpered with excitement. I was too stunned to talk. Even Nico seemed speechless. We stepped into the cave, and Rachel said, “Oh, wow.”

The walls glittered with crystals—red, green, and blue. In the strange light, beautiful plants grew—giant orchids, star-shaped flowers, vines bursting with orange and purple berries that crept among the crystals. The cave floor was covered with soft green moss. Overhead, the ceiling was higher than a cathedral, sparkling like a galaxy of stars. In the center of the cave stood a Roman-style bed, gilded wood shaped like a curly U, with velvet cushions. Animals lounged around it—but they were animals that shouldn’t have been alive. There was a dodo bird, something that looked like a cross between a wolf and a tiger, a huge rodent like the mother of all guinea pigs, and roaming behind the bed, picking berries with its trunk, was a wooly mammoth.

On the bed lay an old satyr. He watched us as we approached, his eyes as blue as the sky. His curly hair was white and so was his pointed beard. Even the goat fur on his legs was frosted with gray. His horns were enormous— glossy brown and curved. There was no way he could’ve hidden those under a hat the way Grover did. Around his neck hung a set of reed pipes.

Grover fell to his knees in front of the bed. “Lord Pan!”

The god smiled kindly, but there was sadness in his eyes. “Grover, my dear, brave satyr. I have waited a very long time for you.”

“I…got lost,” Grover apologized.

Pan laughed. It was a wonderful sound, like the first breeze of springtime, filling the whole cavern with hope.

The tiger-wolf sighed and rested his head on the god’s knee. The dodo bird pecked affectionately at the god’s hooves, making a strange sound in the back of its bill. I could swear it was humming “It’s a Small World.”

Still, Pan looked tired. His whole form shimmered as if he were made of Mist.

I noticed my other friends were kneeling. They had awed looks on their faces. I got to my knees.

“You have a humming dodo bird,” I said stupidly.

The god’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, that’s Dede. My little actress.”

Dede the dodo looked offended. She pecked at Pan’s knee and hummed something that sounded like a funeral dirge.

“This is the most beautiful place!” Annabeth said. “It’s better than any building ever designed.”

“I’m glad you like it, dear,” Pan said. “It is one of the last wild places. My realm above is gone, I’m afraid. Only pockets remain. Tiny pieces of life. This one shall stay undisturbed…for a little longer.”

“My lord,” Grover said, “please, you must come back with me! The Elders will never believe it! They’ll be overjoyed! You can save the wild!”

Pan placed his hand on Grover’s head and ruffled his curly hair. “You are so young, Grover. So good and true. I think I chose well.”

“Chose?” Grover said. “I—I don’t understand.”

Pan’s image flickered, momentarily turning to smoke. The giant guinea pig scuttled under the bed with a terrified squeal. The wooly mammoth grunted nervously. Dede stuck her head under her wing. Then Pan re-formed.

“I have slept many eons,” the god said forlornly. “My dreams have been dark. I wake fitfully, and each time my waking is shorter. Now we are near the end.”

“What?” Grover cried. “But no! You’re right here!”

“My dear satyr,” Pan said. “I tried to tell the world, two thousand years ago. I announced it to Lysas, a satyr very much like you. He lived in Ephesos, and he tried to spread the word.”

Annabeth’s eyes widened. “The old story. A sailor passing by the coast of Ephesos heard a voice crying from the shore, ‘Tell them the great god Pan is dead.’”

“But that wasn’t true!” Grover said.

“Your kind never believed it,” Pan said. “You sweet, stubborn satyrs refused to accept my passing. And I love you for that, but you only delayed the inevitable. You only prolonged my long, painful passing, my dark twilight sleep. It must end.”

“No!” Grover’s voice trembled.

“Dear Grover,” Pan said. “You must accept the truth. Your companion, Nico, he understands.”

Nico nodded slowly. “He’s dying. He should have died long ago. This…this is more like a memory.”

“But gods can’t die,” Grover said.

“They can fade,” Pan said, “when everything they stood for is gone. When they cease to have power, and their sacred places disappear. The wild, my dear Grover, is so small now, so shattered, that no god can save it. My realm is gone. That is why I need you to carry a message. You must go back to the council. You must tell the satyrs, and the dryads, and the other spirits of nature, that the great god Pan is dead. Tell them of my passing. Because they must stop waiting for me to save them. I cannot. The only salvation you must make yourself. Each of you must—”

He stopped and frowned at the dodo bird, who had started humming again.

“Dede, what are you doing?” Pan demanded. “Are you singing Kumbaya again?”

Dede looked up innocently and blinked her yellow eyes.

Pan sighed. “Everybody’s a cynic. But as I was saying, my dear Grover, each of you must take up my calling.”

“But…no!” Grover whimpered.

“Be strong,” Pan said. “You have found me. And now you must release me. You must carry on my spirit. It can no longer be carried by a god. It must be taken up by all of you.”

Pan looked straight at me with his clear blue eyes, and I realized he wasn’t just talking about the satyrs. He meant half-bloods, too, and humans. Everyone.

“Percy Jackson,” the god said. “I know what you have seen today. I know your doubts. But I give you this news: when the time comes, you will not be ruled by fear.”

He turned to Annabeth. “Daughter of Athena, your time is coming. You will play a great role, though it may not be the role you imagined.”

Then he looked at Tyson. “Master Cyclops, do not despair. Heroes rarely live up to our expectations. But you, Tyson—your name shall live among the Cyclopes for generations. And Miss Rachel Dare…”

Rachel flinched when he said her name. She backed up like she was guilty of something, but Pan only smiled. He raised his hand in a blessing.

“I know you believe you cannot make amends,” he said. “But you are just as important as your father.”

“I—” Rachel faltered. A tear traced her cheek.

“I know you don’t believe this now,” Pan said. “But look for opportunities. They will come.”

Finally he turned back toward Grover. “My dear satyr,” Pan said kindly, “will you carry my message?”

“I—I can’t.”

“You can,” Pan said. “You are the strongest and bravest. Your heart is true. You have believed in me more than anyone ever has, which is why you must bring the message, and why you must be the first to release me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know,” the god said. “But my name, Pan…originally it meant rustic. Did you know that? But over the years it has come to mean all. The spirit of the wild must pass to all of you now. You must tell each one you meet: if you would replace Pan, take up Pan’s spirit. Remake the wild, a little at a time, each in your own corner of the world. You cannot wait for anyone else, even a god, to do that for you.”

Grover wiped his eyes. Then slowly he stood. “I’ve spent my whole life looking for you. Now…I release you.”

Pan smiled. “Thank you, dear satyr. My final blessing.”

He closed his eyes, and the god dissolved. White mist divided into wisps of energy, but this kind of energy wasn’t scary like the blue power I’d seen from Kronos. It filled the room. A curl of smoke went straight into my mouth, and Grover’s, and the others. But I think a little more of it went into Grover. The crystals dimmed. The animals gave us a sad look. Dede the dodo sighed. Then they all turned gray and crumbled to dust. The vines withered. And we were alone in a dark cave, with an empty bed.

I switched on my flashlight.

Grover took a deep breath.

“Are…are you okay?” I asked him.

He looked older and sadder. He took his cap from Annabeth, brushed off the mud, and stuck it firmly on his curly head.

“We should go now,” he said, “and tell them. The great god Pan is dead.”