darkness is to friend
as light is to enemy.

•❅───✧❅ THREE ❅✧───❅•

DARKNESS SLUMBERED IN the quiet of the maze. With every languid breath it takes, the endless gloom pervaded deeper and deeper into the shallow corners of the Labyrinth. It whispered innocent sins into Anastasia's ears as she ventured further into the maze. Tendrils of darkness coiled around her feet, snaking their way up her body before vanishing at the sight of light. Wisps of the cold darkness brushed along her cheeks before sinking into the earth.

     Anastasia pulled out her bow; the dim light of the Celestial Bronze ricocheted off the grimy, red brick walls. Every step she took, the tunnel shifted, looking like something else entirely. A cold draft rushed by her, and she shivered slightly, moving her bow to shine in that direction.

     Little dream...The voice cooed on the other side. Anastasia tensed, glaring into the infinite darkness. The wind nipped at her cheeks before flooding back into the porthole where it came from, like it sucked the air out of the tunnel.

"If we keep one hand on the left wall and follow it," Annabeth started, "we should be able to find our way out again by reversing course."

Anastasia rolled her eyes, pushing the familiar voice to the back of her mind. "So we're lost? Thank you for your wonderful sense of direction, pigeon brain." From the glow of her bow, Anastasia caught the glare directed toward her from Annabeth.

Annabeth opened her mouth to retort when Percy interjected, stepping in between the two. "That's a great idea, Annabeth." Andromeda snickered quietly from behind the three.

"So left hand left wall?" Grover chimed in nervously. He was trembling, glancing at the walls nervously, as if they were going to jump out and attack him. As soon as he said that, the left wall disappeared.

"Woah," Andromeda shined her flashlight into the eight tunnels leading out of the circular chamber they found themselves in. "That's creepy."

     "Um, which was did we come in?" Grover asked nervously, his teeth clattering from the cold.

     "Just...turn around." Annabeth said.

     The six of them turned toward a different tunnel. Anastasia repressed a scoff from tumbling out of her lips. Instead, she chose to purse her lips into a thin line, swallowing the harsh words. Anastasia had to remind herself that this was Annabeth's first time leading a quest, so things were bound to be confusing and weird.

     "Left walls are mean," Tyson nodded. "Which way now?"

     Anastasia snuck a glance at Annabeth, who swept her flashlight beam over the archways of the eight, near identical tunnels. Finally, after staring at each one with stormy grey eyes, she pointed with her flashlight to one of them.

"That way."

"Really?" Anastasia furrowed her brows, narrowing her eyes at Annabeth in disbelief. "Just like that?"

Annabeth shrugged, "Yeah."

     "Right and I — "

Andromeda stepped in between them, shooting both of them a look to cut it out. Anastasia's mouth snapped shut, choosing to glare at the middle-man instead of the girl who drive her mad. Andromeda's green eyes flashed dangerously, silently warning her to either back off or face her wrath; Anastasia didn't know which was more insulting — the fact that the daughter of a witch had told her to shut up or the fact that Anastasia swallowed her words at her threat.

     "Let's go," Andromeda said simply, walking in that direction first. Percy followed her (obviously), grinning wildly at Annabeth and Anastasia, like he knew something that both of them didn't know.

Anastasia reluctantly followed the group, wondering why she decided to join their band of misfits. It was, however, better than the alternative, which was being cooped up in Camp Half-Blood with nothing to do. At least here, even underneath the earth, she could do something. Anything.

     "What now, pigeon brain? Got any other — Jesus!" Anastasia ducked as some of the ceiling debris rained down on them. The tunnel shuddered, narrowing quickly as they moved. The walls turned from the grimy, red bricks into dry, gray cement. The ceiling lowered, forcing Tyson to crawl and the rest of them to hunch over to avoid hitting their head. Anastasia clamped her mouth shut, refraining herself from any further comments.

     For the most part, it was silent. Anastasia could feel the tendrils of darkness brush against the back of her neck. She let out a shaky breath, keeping a steady grip on her bow.

"I can't stand it anymore," Grover hyperventilated. He trembled in front of Anastasia. "Are we there yet?"

"We've been down here maybe five minutes," Annabeth told him from the front. Anastasia bit back a retort that was threatening to break loose from her pursed lips.

     "It's been longer than that," Grover insisted. "And why would Pan be down here? This is the opposite of the wild!"

     "But...if we are far from Camp Half-Blood, then aren't we technically in the wild?" Anastasia voiced. No body answered her, but Andromeda shot her a withering glare from the front. They kept shuffling forward.

     As Anastasia thought this tunnel would be the actual death of them, it opened into a room. She breathed out a sigh of relief as she stumbled out after Grover and the others, nearly falling over her own feet. Once she steadied herself, Anastasia glanced up, using the dim light of her bow to shine upon the walls.

     "Woah." Percy gasped, shining his flashlight around the walls. Anastasia hated to agree with him, but she did.

The mosaic tiles covered the room; the colors were fading, but it was beautiful. The plethora of colors blended together, forming a personal depiction of the Olympian gods at a feast. Poseidon was the easiest to recognize, seeing how he held his trident with a smug expression. The filthy blue tiles behind him probably represented the ocean. He held out grapes for Dionysus, who was turning them into wine. He was looking at a beautiful woman — Ariadne, Anastasia guessed — and smiling fondly at her, and her at him. Anastasia glossed over Zeus partying with the satyrs and Hermes flying through the air with his winged sandals.

Raising her bow a little higher, she spotted a figure at the end of the table. He was handsome, but not in the godly type way that Zeus or Poseidon were like; he was more gentle looking, his blue eyes twinkled and his smile softened each time she looked at him. He wore a dark cloak, but that only made him look smaller in comparison to the boisterous gods in front of him, gallivanting their achievements in broad daylight — it made Anastasia roll her eyes at them. Anastasia stared at the god for a few minutes longer than necessary, but she could've sworn she felt the god's eyes on her as she turned her back to the walls.

In the middle of the room was a three-tiered fountain. It was rustic, and Anastasia swiped a finger on the top layer. When she pulled away, a thin layer of dust coated her finger. Anastasia wrinkled her nose at her finger, wiping her hand on her worn out Camp Half-Blood t-shirt.

     "What is this place?" Percy muttered, his hand hovering over the fountain. Anastasia assumed that, since he was the son of Poseidon, he could feel some sort of water currents inside the fountain, waiting to burst free. "It looks —"

     "Roman," Annabeth interrupted. "Those mosaics are about two thousand years old."

     "A wannabe architect, a deductive reasoner, and an art connoisseur!" Anastasia gasped, fanning herself dramatically. "What can't she do?"

     Annabeth took a step toward Anastasia, but Andromeda held up a hand, stopping her. "What has gotten into you? Now is not the time to argue. We need to support each other, help each other."

     "Thank you for the lesson, Miss Goody Goody," Anastasia replied, sarcasm dripping from her words. At this point, she didn't care about the middleman and staying out of her way. "I'll be sure to remember that one day."

Percy frowned at her words, but instead of prolonging the horrible conversation, he changed the subject. "But how can they be Roman?"

     "The Labyrinth is a patchwork," Annabeth continued, shooting a sharp glare at Anastasia. She simply rolled her eyes in response. "I told you, it's always expanding, adding pieces. It's the only work of architecture that grows by itself."

     Percy shivered. "You make it sound like it's alive."

     A groaning noise echoed from the tunnel; the hair on the back of Anastasia's neck stood at the sound. The cold wind nipped at her neck, whispering loudly in her ears.

     "Let's not talk about it being alive," Grover whimpered. "Please?"

     "All right," Annabeth said. "Forward."

     "Down the hall with the bad sounds?" Tyson said. Even he looked nervous. Anastasia's hands felt clammy underneath her gloves. She was almost tempted to take them off and leave them in this part of the Labyrinth.

     "Yeah," Annabeth said. "The architecture is getting older. That's a good sign. Daedalus's workshop would be in the oldest part."

"Onwards then?" Andromeda gulped, her hand searching for Percy's hand. He stepped forward, slipping his hand in hers, and Anastasia's stomach clenched. She looked away from that sight, gritting her teeth as she stalked after Grover and Tyson, who had made their way to the tunnel. She didn't bother looking behind her to see if the other three were following.

After they had walked fifty feet, the tunnel shuddered, turning back into the dirty, dark cement, with brass pipes running down the sides. Tiny droplets of water seeped out of the pipes, dripping onto the dirty floor and creating a small puddle. There was a neon tagger sign on the walls, but Anastasia just saw jumbles of letters. The florescent, neon lights buzzed quietly.

"I'm thinking this is not Roman," Percy said unhelpfully from behind Anastasia.

"It kinda looks like that one place in downtown New York," Anastasia pointed at the sign, referring to the time when she was a child, and her mother deemed her fit to come with her to see an art gallery and forgot her for a few hours.

"Wait," Percy started, facing Anastasia, "the place next to the tattoo shop?"

"Yeah that one!" Anastasia nodded at him. Percy's ocean colored eyes brightened, and the corner of Anastasia's lips turned upwards. This foreign, but familiar, feeling swirled around in her chest.

"Oh my gods," Percy grinned. "Do you know Jake the Giant? The blonde guy?"

Flashes of a short, prepubescent, blonde boy with acne appeared. She remembered him calling the police to report a kid he found wandering the dark alleys. He gave her some tea from the break room, and sat with her until her mother stormed into the shop, demanding to see her daughter. She remembered his kindness and his selflessness to help a random stranger instead of getting that extra dollar or two for cleaning up.

"Of course I remember him," Anastasia grinned.

Percy grinned back at her. "Sweet! Hey, what do you say, when we finish this quest and stop Luke, the six of us go downtown? I'll show you guys all my favorite places."

Andromeda laughed, "Sure thing, Kelp Head."

He stared at Anastasia, and she bit her lip. She'd never been out of Camp before, not since she was 10 years old. Still, the idea of belonging infatuated her. Anastasia was already warming up to them, and after this quest, she might even call them...friends. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"What about you Annabeth?" Percy asked. Anastasia soft smile dropped. Fuck. Obviously Annabeth was going to come since she's their best friend. Anastasia thought of rescinding her agreement. Anastasia watched Annabeth carefully as she took a deep breath, then forged ahead.

     Anastasia frowned. Usually, there would be some retort or snark that would lead to either a messy fight breaking out between them or Andromeda playing the role of mediator again.

     She followed Annabeth silently through the tunnels, occasionally glancing at her hardened face. Anastasia's stomach churned; she hated that feeling almost immediately. She hated the way Annabeth clenched her jaw and her brows furrowed. She hated the way Annabeth frowned and anger and doubt swirled in her eyes. Most of all, she hated the way she could notice the small details that make up Annabeth.

     Anastasia shook her head, choosing to look at the tunnels rather than the girl who infuriated her. Every few minutes, the tunnels rumbled lowly, twisting and turning as it branches off to other parts. The floors beneath them morphed from cement to mud to bricks and back again. They somehow stumbled into a wine cellar — a bunch of dusty bottles in wooden racks — but, rather than an exit above them, like somebody's basement, there were just more tunnels leading on.

Anastasia paused at a wooden shelf. She carefully plucked a bottle and inspected it, barely hearing the faint sloshes of wine inside. As she read the label, Anastasia couldn't resist humming in amusement. "'Dionysus's Wine of the Gods: 1000 years old just for your pleasure.'" Anastasia snorted, returning the bottle back to the shelf.

"Maybe...the gods come here to drink?" Grover offered. His eyebrows shot up and a smile graced his lips. "Hey! Maybe we can find a god here, and they'll help us find Pan and Daedalus."

A shadow passed over Anastasia's face. She scowled. "Don't get your hopes up, Underwood."

They walked a few more feet, and the ceiling turned to wooden planks. Muffled voices carried through the planks, and every time there were the creaking of footsteps, small particles of dust fell from the wood. There was no way to get to the people above them, and Anastasia realized that they were stuck down here with no way out. That thought made her want to throw up.

They continued further in silence. Every time a cold draft swept past them, Anastasia swore she could hear something calling out for her. She almost wanted to claw her way out of the Labyrinth. It was making her uneasy, on edge because there was something there that wanted her. Or her blood.

Something caught Anastasia's foot, and she tumbled to the ground, her bow falling out of her grasp. Her hands reached out in front of her, trying to find something — anything — to steady her. Anastasia caught someone's hand as she landed on her face. She hissed softly, feeling a warm sensation trickling down her cheek. She turned her attention to the hand she caught. Staring back at her was a grinning skull.

Anastasia let out a small scream and shuffled away from the skeleton. She was pretty sure everyone that was alive could hear her racing heartbeat. Anastasia sighed deeply, covering her face as she tried to calm her heart from jumping out of her chest.

"Are you okay?" Annabeth's voice asked softly. Anastasia scoffed, wiping the blood off of her cheek with the back of her hand. She slapped away Annabeth's hand, ignoring the twinge of hurt flashing across her features.

"I'm fine." Anastasia grabbed her bow from the floor and glanced at the skeleton. They were dressed in a milkman's uniform, and a wooden crate of glass bottles sat next to them. Flies buzzed around the bottles, sometimes landing on the rims of the bottles.

"A milkman," Annabeth cleared her throat.

"What?" Percy asked. Anastasia exchanged an exasperated glance with Andromeda. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, but her eyes twinkled with mirth.

"They used to deliver milk."

"Yeah, I know what they are, but...that was when my mom was little, like a million years ago."

Andromeda raised her hands, glaring at Percy. "Not the Sally slander. Take it back, Perseus, or I swear to gods, I will tell Sally hufmp."

Percy covered Andromeda's mouth. "I take it back. Just...don't tell mom about that." They stayed like that for a while before both of them realized. Percy pulled away from Andromeda, their cheeks flushed with pink hues.

Anastasia leaned to Grover, her eyes not leaving the oblivious pair. "How do they not realize that they're in love?"

"Believe me when I say I've been asking that question for four fucking years now," Grover grumbled, crossing his arms as he rolled his eyes at the lovestruck duo.

Percy scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere else other than Andromeda. "So...uh what's he doing here?"

"Some people wander in by mistake," Annabeth continued, staring at the skeleton. "Some come exploring on purpose and never make it back. A long time ago, the Cretans sent people in here as human sacrifices."

Anastasia leaned toward the skeleton to examine it better. She hesitantly reached a hand out to touch the skull. It felt smooth to the touch. A vision popped into her head, and she could see how the man accidentally stumbled and fell into the ground. He screamed for help, but no one came for him. He sat there in the quiet, sobbing for someone, slowly rotting away.

Anastasia retracted her fingers from the skull quickly. She breathed heavily, straightening her posture. She shook her head, as if she was trying to rid herself of those thoughts. They weren't real. They weren't real. They weren't real...were they?

     "Only bones," Tyson said simply. "Don't worry, goat boy. The milkman is dead."

     "Oh goody," Anastasia muttered under her breath, "because we wouldn't want the milkman to be alive." She rolled her eyes. (She was shocked at how many times she rolled her eyes at the group in the past few days).

     "The milkman doesn't bother me," Grover shook his head. "It's the smell. Monsters. Can't you smell it?"

     Tyson nodded. "Lots of monsters. But underground smells like that. Monsters and dead milk people."

     "Oh, good," Grover whimpered. Anastasia rested a hand on his shoulder, and he nodded at her. "I thought maybe I was wrong."

     "We have to get deeper into the maze," Annabeth stated. "There has to be a way to the center." She led them to the right, then the left, through a corridor of stainless steel like some kind of air shaft. It left Anastasia dizzy.

     Finally, they arrived back in the Roman tile room with the fountain. And a god with two faces.

     Her mother always told Anastasia that it was rude to stare, but she couldn't help herself as she stared at the faces in disbelief. They jutted out from either side of his head, staring over his shoulders at them, so his head was much wider than it should've been. The two overlapping ears and mirror-image sideburns made it difficult for Anastasia to look away. He was dressed in a long black overcoat, shiny black shoes, and a black-top hat that somehow managed to stay on his double-wide head.

     Anastasia recognized the god from the books she read. He was Janus, the God of Doorways, of Beginnings and Endings, of Choices. She had always thought he was weird, and meeting him in person only amplified that weirdness.

     "Well, Annabeth?" urged the left side of his face. "Hurry up!"

     "Don't mind him," said the right face. "He's terribly rude. Right this way, miss."

     Annabeth's jaw dropped. "Uh...I don't..."

     Tyson frowned. "That funny man has two faces." Anastasia snorted, smirking up at the god.

     "The funny man has ears, you know!" the left face scolded. "Now come along, miss."

     "No, no," the right face said. "This way, miss. Talk to me, please."

     Janus grinned eerily at Annabeth. Anastasia's grip on her bow tightened as she watched Janus regard Annabeth with faint intrigue clouding his eyes. She wanted to punch the arrogant smirk dancing across both of his lips.

She peered over Janus's heads, trying to find an exit to get them away from the God of Choices. There were two exits — because why wouldn't there be? — in the shape of wooden doors with huge iron locks. The padlocks on both doors required only one key to get through them, and Anastasia wondered if she could use Luke's lock picking lessons to get through both of them. But that would mean she would have to get past guard dog Janus to get to the locks.

Anastasia glanced over her shoulders, but the way they came in from was completely closed. It was replaced with more mosaic tiles. They aligned in a way to make up Hera, the Queen of the Gods.

"The exits are closed." Annabeth said. Anastasia tried not to glare at her. Thanks for the news flash sweetheart.

"Duh!" Janus's left face rolled his eyes. Anastasia had to agree with him on that. Annabeth, despite being the daughter of the Goddess of Wisdom, could be quite dense sometimes.

"Where do they lead?" Annabeth asked, looking at the exits behind Janus.

"One probably leads the way you wish to go," the right face said encouragingly. "The other leads to certain death."

"That sounds great," Anastasia added sarcastically.

"I-I know who you are," Annabeth said.

"Oh, you're a smart one!" The left face sneered. Anastasia swallowed a snarl, choosing to ignore Janus's words. "But do you know which way to choose? I don't have all day."

"Why are you trying to confuse me?" Annabeth asked, tilting her head slightly. Her brows furrowed, and she frowned. Anastasia took a step forward, moving her bow slightly upwards. Just in case.

The right face smiled. "You're in charge now, my dear. All the decisions are on your shoulders. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I—"

"We know you, Annabeth," the left face said. "We know what you wrestle with every day. We know your indecision. You will have to make your choice sooner or later. And the choice may kill you."

"No...I don't — " Annabeth stuttered. Anastasia never heard Annabeth stutter. Not once in the time they have known each other. Annabeth was always ten steps ahead of everyone, and, even though it irked Anastasia to no end, hearing Annabeth stutter was not a pleasant thing to hear.

"Back off, Janus," Anastasia snapped. She didn't care what choice Annabeth had to make. Anastasia wouldn't stand for the cocky attitude of the god. She scowled at him; she was itching to grab one of her arrows to shoot at him.

The god's eyes slid to Anastasia, and a wicked grin appeared on both of their faces. "Well well. If it isn't Anastasia Nishant." they chorused.

"A single choice will leave you in tears," Janus's left face started.

"A single choice will leave you with newfound hope," the other side mused thoughtfully.

"A single choice will be your ruination or your salvation!" the faces sighed in unison. "Then again, your selfishness will always be your downfall." They giggled to themselves, like they were in on a joke that Anastasia didn't quite understand.

Anastasia narrowed her eyes at the god. She didn't like the vagueness in his words. What choice would leave her 'in tears?' What choice would leave her with 'newfound hope?' And what choice would be her 'ruination' or her 'salvation?' Were they the same choice, or three separate choices?

Anastasia snuck a glance at Annabeth, who was in deep in thought.

"Don't you have anything better to do in your free time?" Andromeda crossed her arms as she glared at the god. Janus laughed, but the sound was grating to her ears. Andromeda tensed at the sound.

"Andromeda Windsor," Janus's grin sharpened, like he was ready to rip Andromeda to shreds. Anastasia wasn't the only one who noticed Janus's change in demeanor. Percy and Annabeth tensed, looking like they were going to rip off Janus' heads, while Grover and Tyson frowned at Janus. "The girl who lied and lived to tell the tale."

     "Was it a choice you regret?" Janus's right face scowled at her. Andromeda stiffened, opening her mouth, but only a croaked noise escaped her.

     "Or, if given the opportunity, would you choose to lie again?" the left face raised his brows as he stared at Andromeda. Anastasia didn't know what he was talking about. But it seemed like whatever it was, Andromeda was affected by it. In the worst possible way.

     "Leave her alone," Percy growled. "Who are you, anyway?"

     "I'm your best friend," the right face smiled.

     "I'm your worst enemy," the left face grinned.

     "I'm Janus," they said in harmony. "God of Doorways. Beginnings. Endings. Choices."

     "I'll see you soon enough, Perseus Jackson," Janus nodded, as if he played a crucial role in Percy's fate. He probably did, since Percy was the son of Poseidon. Anastasia clenched her fist. "But for now, it's Annabeth's turn. And Anastasia's." He laughed giddily. "Such fun!"

     "Shut up!" his left face bit. "This is serious. One bad choice can ruin your whole life. It can kill you and all of your friends. It can isolate you and drive you insane. But no pressure, Annabeth Chase and Anastasia Nishant. You must choose. And choose wisely."

     "Don't do it," Percy whispered to Anastasia and Annabeth. Anastasia didn't even know what she had to choose. She wasn't important. Not like Annabeth or Percy was. Not like Andromeda Windsor. Not like Grover and Tyson. She was just an unclaimed camper who wanted to go on a quest.

     "I'm afraid they have to," the right face said cheerfully.

     Anastasia's mind was spiraling. What were these choices that Janus keeps talking about? Gods—no. The gods aren't going to help her. Not right now. They're cryptic in their words, in their actions. Anastasia just wanted to go back to Camp. Back to Clarisse. Back to Luke before Kronos took control of him. Back to her mother. Anastasia wanted her mother. Why did her mother leave her? Was it because of her? She hoped not. She prayed it wasn't because of her. And who the fuck did that voice belong to?

     A brilliant white light flooded the room, and the voices in Anastasia's head silenced. She shut her eyes, letting the warm light pass over her like it was the sun. When she opened her eyes again, the light had died, leaving them in the dark once again.

     A woman was standing at the fountain. Her smile was sharp as she surveyed the room. She had long, beautiful hair braided in plaits with gold ribbons to tie them off. The simple, white dress she wore shimmered with a kaleidoscope of colors, illuminating the mosaics behind them. She exuded this unfamiliar aura as Anastasia kept looking at her.

     When Anastasia managed to lock eyes with the woman, flashes of blue, green, gold, brown, and grey swirled around her. She saw darkness and light dancing with each other as the stars fused themselves to them. She saw a wonderful array of buildings, arranged in a meticulous manner, and gardens so beautiful they made Anastasia's eyes water. She saw creatures baring their teeth at her, and that terrified Anastasia. And in the middle of it all, she saw Annabeth.

     Anastasia didn't know how to feel about that.

     "Janus," the woman tsked, "are we causing trouble again?" She raised her brow at god, daring him to say anything other than an apology.

     "N-no, milady!" Janus's right face stammered.

     "Yes!" blurted the left face.

     "Shut up!"

     "Excuse me?" The woman's face darkened. Anastasia was glad she was not on the receiving end of that glare. She could handle Andromeda and Annabeth's glares, but she knew she couldn't handle this goddess's.

     Goddess. Anastasia frowned as she watched the woman chastised the god, as if he was a child. That would make sense as to why Anastasia saw those images. The idea that a goddess was standing before her was nauseating. Anastasia wanted to grab the others and haul them away from the goddess so they can be spared from her wrath.

     "I see," the goddess hummed. "You know very well your visit is premature. The girls' time has not yet come. So I give you a choice: leave the heroes to me, or I shall turn you into a door and break you down."

     "What kind of door?" the left face asked. That was his question? What kind of door he would turn into? Anastasia sighed through her nose.

     "Shut up!" the right face snapped.

     "Because French doors are nice," the left face mused. (He was kind of right). "Lots of natural light."

     "Shut up!" the right face wailed. "Not you, milady! Of course I'll leave. I was just having a bit of fun. Doing my job. Offering choices."

     "Causing indecision," the woman corrected. "Now be gone!"

     The left face muttered, "Party pooper," then he raised his silver key, inserted it into the air, and disappeared.

     The woman turned toward the group and smiled. Anastasia inhaled sharply, bracing herself to whatever the goddess was going to do. She raised her hand, and Anastasia's fingers twitched to the arrows in her quiver.

     "You must be hungry," The woman waved her hand, and the old Roman fountain began to flow; jets of clear water sprayed into the air. A marble table appeared, laden with platters of sandwiches and pitchers of lemonade. There was also an abundant amount of napkins that Anastasia may have snuck a few into her pocket. "Sit with me and talk."

     "Who...who are you?" Percy asked in awe. Anastasia felt like her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth when she couldn't answer Percy's question.

     "I am Hera." The woman smiled softly. "Queen of Heaven."

ANASTASIA WAS THE last one to sit down at the table. She wondered briefly if the sandwiches and lemonade were poisoned, but after watching Grover and Tyson shovel sandwich after sandwich, she decided they shouldn't be that bad. Hera poured lemonade in each individual Styrofoam cup, and Anastasia reached out to take a sip from it. One sip turned into a few gulps which turned into finishing the entire cup. She licked her lips, reaching for the sandwiches.

Anastasia placed her bow on the table, but Hera tutted, "No weapons on the table, darling." Anastasia blushed, feeling the tips of her ears grow hot from embarrassment. She turned her bow back into a necklace and tied it around her neck. Then she reached for a sandwich.

     "Grover, dear," Hera smiled, "use your napkin. Don't eat it."

     "Yes, ma'am." Grover said, swallowing the last bits of his napkin before reaching for a sandwich.

     "Tyson, you're wasting away. Would you like another peanut butter sandwich?" She offered another sandwich to Tyson, who stifled a belch. He thanked her, and Hera shook her head fondly at them.

     "Queen Hera," Annabeth murmured in awe. "I can't believe it. What are you doing in the Labyrinth?"

     Hera smiled again as she looked at the six of them. She flicked one finger and Annabeth's hair combed itself. All the dirt and grime disappeared from her face. Percy's hair was neatly combed to the side, and the dust on Andromeda's face was wiped away. Anastasia reached up to her face and found that her small scratch was gone, along with the dirt.

     "I came to see you, naturally," the goddess chirped. Anastasia frowned as she bit into her sandwich.

     From her experience, or lack of, the gods always wanted something. They were selfish, and they only cared about what benefitted them. The thought made Anastasia's blood boil. Demigods didn't ask to be placed in this world. The gods sired them, used them, and when they were done with the demigods, they discarded their children, like they were nothing but an insignificant speck of dust beneath their shoes.

     "I didn't think—" Annabeth faltered. "Well, I didn't think you liked heroes."

     Hera smiled indulgently. "Because of that little spat I had with Hercules? Honestly. I got so much bad press because of one disagreement."

     "Didn't you try to kill him, like, a lot of times?" Annabeth asked bluntly. Anastasia nearly choked on her sandwich.

     Andromeda coughed, glancing between Annabeth and Hera. "Uh...Annie, maybe you should be a little more — I don't know — nicer? She did give us food."

     Hera waved her hand dismissively. "It's alright, Windsor. It's water under the bridge, my dear. Besides, he was one of my loving husband's children by another woman. My patience wore thin, I'll admit it. But Zeus and I have had some excellent marriage counseling sessions since then. We've aired our feelings and come to an understanding — especially after that last little incident."

     "Like-like when Thalia was born?" Anastasia guessed. She resisted to wince when she drew Hera's eyes to her. Anastasia avoided looking into her eyes again. Her gaze settled on Hera's braids.

     "Anastasia Nishant." Hera wrinkled her nose in displeasure. Anastasia tried not to feel offended. "Yes, well. We've heard about you." She raised her eyes to ceiling before looking back at her with a subtle glare. "I'd thread carefully on the bridge, if I were you."

     Anastasia swallowed her bite, ignoring the lump in her throat as she narrowed her eyes at the Queen of Heavens. "Is that a threat, Lady Hera?"

     Hera gave her a once over. "It's a warning, dear." She turned back to Annabeth with a sunny smile. Anastasia pushed away the plate, having lost her appetite. She glanced at the others, finding almost all of them glare at Hera. Anastasia felt something warm bloom in her chest.

     "At any rate, I certainly bear you no ill will, my girl. I appreciate the difficulty of your quest. Especially when you have troublemakers like Janus to deal with."

     Annabeth lowered her gaze. "Why was he here? He was driving me crazy."

     "Trying to." Hera agreed. "You must understand, the minor gods like Janus have always been frustrated by the small parts they play in the universe. Some, I fear, have little love for Olympus, and could easily be swayed to support the rise of my father."

     "Your father?" Percy questioned. After a minute, his mouth formed an 'O' shape. "Oh, right."

     "Percy Jackson, isn't it? One of Poseidon's..children. As I recall, I voted to let you live at the winter solstice. I hope I voted correctly." Anastasia rolled her eyes. How many times was this goddess going to threaten them?

     "We must watch the minor gods," Hera continued. Anastasia focused on the small chip in her plate. "Janus. Hecate." At that, she shot a pointed glare at Andromeda, who squirmed uncomfortably. "Morpheus."

     At that, Anastasia perked up. Why did that name sound so familiar? Underneath the table, a shadow tendril curled around her foot in a comforting manner. She didn't flinch away, and instead, she let the tendril wrap around her ankle.

     "They give lip service to Olympus, and yet — "

     "That's where Dionysus went," Percy frowned. "He was checking on the minor gods."

     "Indeed." Hera stared at the fading mosaics of the Olympians. "You see, in times of trouble, even gods can lose faith. They start putting their trust in the wrong things. They stop looking at the big picture and start being selfish. But I'm the goddess of marriage, you see. I'm used to perseverance. You have to rise above the squabbling and chaos, and keep believing. You have to always keep your goals in mind."

     "So, what's your goal then?" Andromeda asked, leaning forward.

     Hera smiled, but Anastasia noticed how her sunny disposition grew sharper. "To keep my family, the Olympians, together, of course. At the moment, the best way I can do that is by helping you. Zeus does not allow me to interfere much, I am afraid. But once every century or so, for a quest I care deeply about, he allows me to grant a wish."

     "What kind of wish?" Anastasia furrowed her brows as she stared expectantly at the goddess.

     Hera ignored her, keeping her attention on Annabeth, and Anastasia groaned softly. She looked at the others who were frowning at Hera. Andromeda rested a warm hand on Anastasia's shoulder.

     "Before you ask it, Annabeth Chase, let me give you some advice, which I can do for free. I know you see Daedalus. His Labyrinth is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. But if you want to know his fate, I would visit my son Hephaestus at his forge. Daedalus was a great inventor, a mortal after Hephaestus's heart. There has never been a mortal Hephaestus admired more. If anyone would have kept up with Daedalus and could tell you his fate, it is Hephaestus."

     "But how do we get there?" Annabeth asked. "That's my wish. I want a way to navigate the Labyrinth."

     Hera looked disappointed. (Anastasia wanted to laugh at her, but she didn't want to be turned into a cow). "So be it. You wish for something, however, that you have already been given."

     "I don't understand."

     "The means is already within your grasp." She glanced at Percy, her lips turned downwards. "Percy knows the answer."

     "I do?"

     "You do?" asked Andromeda, looking a little hurt that Percy didn't tell her.

     Percy raised his hands in defense. "Hey, I had no idea that I knew." Anastasia opened her mouth, but after a moment, she closed it. She shouldn't meddle with someone else's affairs.

    "But that's not fair," Annabeth said. "You're not telling me what it is!"

     Hera shook her head. "Getting something and having the wits to use it...those are two different things. I'm sure your mother Athena would agree."

     The room rumbled like distant thunder. Hera stood. "That would be my cue. Zeus grows impatient. Think on what I have said, Annabeth. Seek out Hephaestus. You will have to pass through the ranch, I imagine. But keep going. And use all the means at your disposal, however common they may seem."

She pointed toward the two doors and they melted away, revealing twin corridors, open and dark. "One last thing, Annabeth. I have postponed your day of choice, I have not prevented it. Soon, as Janus said, you will have to make a decision. And you, Anastasia," Hera pursed her lips, "choose wisely, for the fate of the universe depends on your choice. Farewell!"

     Hera waved a hand and turned into white smoke. With her, so did the food and the enchantments. The fountain trickled to a stop. The mosaic walls turned faded again, as if Hera's vanishing light made them lose their brightness. The room was once again dark and lonely.

     Annabeth stamped her foot, her face tight as she glared in the direction where Hera disappeared. "What sort of help was that? 'Here, have a sandwich. Make a wish. Oops, I can't help you!' Poof!"

     "Poof," Tyson agreed sadly, looking at his empty plate. A sandwich had turned to dust in his mouth. Anastasia felt sorry for the sweet Cyclops.

     "Well," Grover sighed, "she said Percy knows the answer. That's something." Anastasia stared at Percy, waiting for him to say something that would help them.

     "But I don't," Percy shook his head. "I don't know what she was talking about."

     "Then it doesn't matter right now," Andromeda interjected, holding a hand out to stop Percy from continuing. "We have to find Daedalus before Luke does. If we can stop that," Andromeda looked around the room. "Then we could win the war."

     Anastasia admired Andromeda's confidence. Especially after hearing that her mother went to the other side. She couldn't imagine how tough that would be. She got up from her chair and took a step forward, her hand resting on someone's shoulder. "Windsor's right. We have to keep going."

     Anastasia glanced at Percy, Andromeda, and Grover. Tyson was still staring at his empty plate. They were all looking at her, or rather her hand on someone's shoulder. Confused, Anastasia looked down at her hand, trailing up to find grey eyes looking back at her.

     Anastasia blinked.

     Annabeth blinked.

     Anastasis ripped her hand away from Annabeth's shoulder. She heard someone snickering. No. This 'budding friendship' or whatever has to stop. She hated Annabeth. She knew that from the bottom of her heart. Anastasia didn't need to see the stars to tell her that, or some crazy prophecy that misconstrues dreams and realities. Anastasia hated Annabeth, and she was pretty sure nothing could change that. She scowled, glaring at Percy, Andromeda, and Grover who were giggling in the corner.

Suddenly, Grover and Tyson tensed. They stood up in sync. Anastasia tried not think of how creepy they would be as a duo. "Left."

Annabeth frowned. "How can you be sure?"

"Because something is coming from the right," Grover gulped.

"Something big," Tyson agreed. "In a hurry."

"Left sounds great then!" Andromeda decided hurriedly, urging everyone to keep moving. They plunged into the dark corridor, stumbling after one another as they tried to pick up their pace.

Almost there, little one. Then, we'll have a proper conversation.

lmao anastasia bonding with everybody except annabeth. also what's up with janus and hera??