Rick Riordan
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
Chapter Ten
We Play The Game Show Of Death
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We did our summons after dark, at a twenty-foot-long pit in front of the septic tank. The tank
was bright yellow, with a smiley face and red words painted on the side: HAPPY FLUSH DISPOSAL
CO. It didn’t quite go with the mood of summoning the dead.
The moon was full. Silver clouds drifted across the sky.
“Minos should be here by now,” Nico said, frowning. “It’s full dark.”
“Maybe he got lost,” I said hopefully.
Nico poured root beer and tossed barbecue into the pit, then began chanting in Ancient
Greek. Immediately the bugs in the woods stopped chirping. In my pocket, the Stygian ice dog
whistle started to grow colder, freezing against the side of my leg.
“Make him stop,” Tyson whispered to me.
Part of me agreed. This was unnatural. The night air felt cold and menacing. But before I
could say anything, the first spirits appeared. Sulfurous mist seeped out of the ground. Shadows
thickened into human forms. One blue shade drifted to the edge of the pit and knelt to drink.
“Stop him!” Nico said, momentarily breaking his chant. “Only Bianca may drink!”
I drew Riptide. The ghosts retreated with a collective hiss at the sight of my celestial bronze
blade. But it was too late to stop the first spirit. He had already solidified into the shape of a bearded
man in white robes. A circlet of gold wreathed his head, and even in death his eyes were alive with
malice.
“Minos!” Nico said. “What are you doing?”
“My apologies, master,” the ghost said, though he didn’t sound very sorry. “The sacrifice
smelled so good, I couldn’t resist.” He examined his own hands and smiled. “It is good to see myself
again. Almost in solid form—”
“You are disrupting the ritual!” Nico protested. “Get—”
The spirits of the dead began shimmering dangerously bright, and Nico had to take up the
chant again to keep them at bay.
“Yes, quite right, master,” Minos said with amusement. “You keep chanting. I’ve only come to
protect you from these liars who would deceive you.”
He turned to me as if I were some kind of cockroach. “Percy Jackson…my, my. The sons of
Poseidon haven’t improved over the centuries, have they?”
I wanted to punch him, but I figured my fist would go right through his face. “We’re looking for
Bianca di Angelo,” I said. “Get lost.”
The ghost chuckled. “I understand you once killed my Minotaur with your bare hands. But
worse things await you in the maze. Do you really believe Daedalus will help you?”
The other spirits stirred in agitation. Annabeth drew her knife and helped me keep them
away from the pit. Grover got so nervous he clung to Tyson’s shoulder.
“Daedalus cares nothing for you, half-bloods,” Minos warned. “You can’t trust him. He is old
beyond counting, and crafty. He is bitter from the guilt of murder and is cursed by the gods.”
“The guilt of murder?” I asked. “Who did he kill?”
“Do not changed the subject!” the ghost growled. “You are hindering Nico. You try to
persuade him to give up on his goal. I would make him a lord!”
“Enough, Mions,” Nico commanded.
The ghost sneered. “Master, these are your enemies. You must not listen to them! Let me
protect you. i will turn their minds to madness, as I did the others.”
“The others?” Annabeth gasped. “You mean Chris Rodriguez? That was you?”
“The maze is my property,” the ghost said, “not Daedalus’s! Those who intrude deserve
madness.”
“Be gone, Minos!” Nico demanded. “I want to see my sister!”
The ghost bit back his rage. “As you wish, master. But I warn you. You cannot trust these
heroes.”