Rick Riordan
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
83
83
He has simply lost the will to live.”
I shuddered. Despite all the run-ins I’d had with Clarisse, I felt horrible for her. She’d tried so
hard to help him. And now that I’d been in the Labyrinth, I could understand why it had been so easy
for the ghost of Minos to drive Chris mad. If I’d been wandering around down there alone, without
my friends to help, I’d never have made it out.
“I’m sorry to say,” Chiron continued, “the other news is less pleasant still. Quintus has
disappeared.”
“Disappeared? How?”
“Three nights ago he slipped into the Labyrinth. Juniper watched him go. It appears you may
have been right about him.”
“He’s a spy for Luke.” I told Chiron about the Triple G Ranch—how Quintus had bought his
scorpions there and Geryon had been supplying Kronos’s army. “It can’t be a coincidence.”
Chiron sighed heavily. “So many betrayals. I had hoped Quintus would prove a friend. It
seems my judgment was bad.”
“What about Mrs. O’Leary?” I asked.
“The hellhound is still in the arena. It won’t let anyone approach. I did not have the heart to
force it into a cage…or destroy it.”
“Quintus wouldn’t just leave her.”
“As I said, Percy, we seem to have been wrong about him. Now, you should prepare yourself
for the morning. You and Annabeth still have much to do.”
I left him in his wheelchair, staring sadly into the fireplace. I wondered how many times he’d
sat here, waiting for heroes that never came back.
***
Before dinner I stopped by the sword arena. Sure enough, Mrs. O’Leary was curled up in an
enormous black furry mound in the middle of the stadium, chewing halfheartedly on the head of a
warrior dummy.
When she saw me, she barked and came bounding toward me. I thought I was dead meat. I
just had time to say, “Whoa!” before she bowled me over and started licking my face. Now usually,
being the son of Poseidon and all, I only get wet if I want to, but my powers apparently did not
extend to dog saliva, because I got a pretty good bath.
“Whoa, girl!” I yelled. “Can’t breathe. Lemme up!”
Eventually I managed to get her off me. I scratched her ears and found her an extra-gigantic
dog biscuit.
“Where’s your master?” I asked. Her. “How could he just leave you, huh?”
She whimpered like she wanted to know that, too. I was ready to believe Quintus was an
enemy, but still I couldn’t understand why he’d leave Mrs. O’Leary behind. If there was one thing I
was sure of, it was that he really ca red for his megadog.
I was thinking about that and toweling the dog spit off my face when a girl’s voice said,
“You’re lucky she didn’t bite your head off.”
Clarisse was standing at the other end of the arena with her sword and shield. “Came here
to practice yesterday,” she grumbled. “Dog tried to chew me up.”
“She’s an intelligent dog,” I said.
“Funny.”
She walked toward us. Mrs. O’Leary growled, but I patted her on the head and calmed her
down.
“Stupid hellhound,” Clarisse said. “Not going to keep me from practicing.”
“I heard about Chris,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
Clarisse paced a circle around the arena. When she came to the nearest dummy, she
attacked viciously, chopping its head off with a single blow and driving her sword through its guts.
She pulled the sword out and kept walking.
“Yeah, well. Sometimes things go wrong.” Her voice was shaky. “Heroes get hurt.
They…they die, and the monsters just keep coming back.”
She picked up a javelin and threw it across the arena. It nailed a dummy straight between
the eyeholes of its helmet.
She had called Chris a hero, like he had never gone over to the Titan’s side. It reminded me