Rick Riordan The Battle of the Labyrinth - 04
sword in sheer terror and swatted at my clothes . Fire was engulfing me . Strangely , it felt only warm at first , but it was getting hotter by the instant .
“ Your father ’ s nature protects you ,” one said . “ Makes you hard to burn . But not impossible , youngling . Not impossible .”
They threw more lava at me , and I remember screaming . My whole body was on fire . The pain was worse than anything I ’ d ever felt . I was being consumed . I crumpled to the metal floor and heard the sea demon children howling in delight . Then I remembered the voice of the river naiad at the ranch : The water is within me . I needed the sea . I felt a tugging sensation in my gut , but I had nothing around to help me . Not a faucet or a river . Not even a petrified seashell this time . And besides , the last time I ’ d unleashed my power at the stables , there ’ d been that scary moment when it had almost gotten away from me .
I had no choice . I called to the sea . I reached inside myself and remembered the waves and the currents , the endless power of the ocean . And I let it loose in one horrible scream .
Afterward , I could never describe what happened . An explosion , a tidal wave , a whirlwind of power simultaneously catching me up and blasting me downward into the lava . Fire and water collided , superheated steam , and I shot upward from the heart of the volcano in a huge explosion , just one piece of flotsam thrown free by a million pounds of pressure . The last thing I remember before losing conscious was flying , flying so high Zeus would never have forgiven me , and then beginning to fall , smoke and fire and water streaming from me . I was a comet hurtling toward the earth .
74
Chapter Twelve
I Take A Permanent Vacation
I woke up feeling like I was still on fire . My skin stung . My throat felt as dry as sand .
I saw blue sky and trees above me . I heard a fountain gurgling , and smelled juniper and cedar and a bunch of other sweet-scented plants . I heard waves , too , gently lapping on a rocky shore . I wondered if I was dead , but I knew better . I ’ d been to the Land of the Dead , and there was no blue sky . I tried to sit up . My muscles felt like they were melting . “ Stay still ,” a girl ’ s voice said . “ You ’ re too weak to rise .” She laid a cool cloth across my forehead . A bronze spoon hovered over me and liquid was dribbled into my mouth . The drink soothed my throat and left a warm chocolaty aftertaste . Nectar of the gods . Then the girl ’ s face appeared above me .
She had almond eyes and caramel-color hair braided over one shoulder . She was … fifteen ? Sixteen ? It was hard to tell . She had one of those faces that just seemed timeless . She began singing , and my pain dissolved . She was working magic . I could feel her music sinking into my skin , healing and repairing my brain . “ Who ?” I croaked . “ Shhh , brave one ,” she said . “ Rest and heal . No harm will come to you here . I am Calypso .” *** The next time I woke I was in a cave , but as far as caves go , I ’ d been in a lot worse . The ceiling glittered with different-color crystal formations — white and purple and green , like I was inside one of those cut geodes you see in souvenir shops . I was lying on a comfortable bed with feather pillows and cotton sheets . The cave was divided into sections by white silk curtains . Against one wall stood a large loom and a harp . Against the other wall were shelves neatly stacked with jars of fruit preserves . Dried herbs hung from the ceiling : rosemary , thyme , and a bunch of other stuff . My mother could ’ ve named them all .
There was a fireplace built into the cave wall , and a pot bubbling over the flames . It smelled great , like beef stew .
I sat up , trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my head . I looked at my arms , sure that they