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A woman with six arms sat on the bench at the bus stop Julio normally waited at to get to lunch with Tabs.
A dramatic silver helmet sat on her head. Beneath it, white hair fell to her first set of shoulders, which swayed with how fast she was knitting. Her first and third sets of arms worked needles that seemed to click right through Julio like the timer on the lava rock climbing wall back at camp. The central pair of hands held up the remains of a ball of yarn. Red strands of wool were knotted around her fingers as she fussed to untangle them.
Nobody gave her a second glance as they strode past her. Nobody but Julio, who stared at her from across the street, the thought of fries and burgers forgotten as he debated whether to approach her or not. For all he knew, Julio was the only demigod around, and the Fates were there waiting for him.
He turned around, speeding back down the street. Chills raked up his spine like he was being watched, and nausea climbed up the back of his throat. He needed to get away from her. He needed to somehow find Tabs and get back to camp.
If he didn’t show up to lunch, Tabs would leave the city without him and Hank would send out a search party. And Julio would have to explain he was running away from his fate when they inevitably found him on a bench hours later. Embarrassing as it was, Tabs’ teasing about being late to lunch was better than that. Maybe he could just walk to the farther stop and take the later bus. Maybe if he walked far enough, the Fates would take pity on him. He could take a wide berth around her and be on his way.
Julio had no interest in what her deal was. He kept his gaze straight ahead—what if she was trailing behind him? The grates rattled under his feet as he sped down the sidewalk, growing louder the faster he walked, shaking and clicking against their frames until they crescendoed into a crack that echoed through Julio’s skull. He tripped, the grate under him giving way as he fell into the vent.
Julio wheezed as the wind was knocked out of him. He crumbled into a heap, gasping for air on cold, damp earth that definitely did not feel like the inside of a vent. Crawling up to his knees, he took in his surroundings. The walls were stone, cracked with age and dusty, residue clinging to his fingers as he traced the wall with his hand.
He couldn’t hear the bustle of New York above him anymore. Instead, a creeping sense of being watched filled the hallway. Like the walls were alive and he was their prey.
“Mierda!” he swore, his voice echoing off the walls. Skids had told him about Daedalus’s labyrinth once, in hushed whispers a long time ago. It sat just below the surface and had entrances all over the planet. And he’d trembled himself into it! Wonderful.
Julio cursed his powers as he dusted himself off. The tunnel stretched long and narrow in both directions. He looked up, trying to see if the exit he’d vanished through remained, but the darkness and exposed rock gave away nothing. He groaned, annoyed, and started walking.
The hall curved and widened as Julio trudged through the dark. Everything looked identical in both directions, not a single stone giving anything away until he reached a sharp corner. There, Julio turned and was met with a dead end. Fists clenched, he turned around to go back the way he came.
Around the corner again, the endless hallway had changed. Tall bronze doors emblazoned with crossed swords flanked a new wall a hundred yards away. He’d have to pass through them to find an exit.
Every step he took toward the doors filled Julio with more dread. He could feel the roar of whatever was on the other side from the buzzing under his feet. He pushed at one of the doors until it cracked open enough for him to slide through. An arena flanked by hundreds of seats consumed his vision. The roar of the crowd was exaggerated by the height of the room, as tiers of filled seats with monsters and demigods cheered on the fight below. Skulls lined every bit of space that was not alive or the arena itself.
Across the arena, a giant sat at the seat of honor. His round, jaundiced face grinned maniacally at the spindly, long-haired demigod next to him. Julio thought he looked like a lumpy, half-inflated balloon.
The cheering grew as a growl emanated from the arena. A demigod impaled a giant, a sword in its gut as it crumbled at his feet. Another sword in their other hand sliced the giant’s head clean off.
Julio blanched at the horrific sight, then startled when the giant disintegrated. The demigod held up their prize, teeth clenched in a bloodthirsty grin at the crowd’s screams of delight. They turned, showing off the trophy, until they faced Julio. There, the demigod paused, his eyes meeting Julio’s. There was a star etched clumsily around the left eye of his helmet.
He stood frozen, staring at the other amongst the roaring crowd until the giant waved his arms and bellowed, “Silence!”
“You!” The giant pointed in Julio’s direction. “Who are you?” He wiggled his long, misshapen finger. “Major Domo, do your thing and tell me who he is.”
The following intricate set of hand gestures had Julio wishing he’d paid more attention to which god did what. “I believe that is a son of Hades, darling.”
The giant squealed in delight. “Perfect! Excellent entertainment!” He pointed at the other demigod. “Tell him, child! Tell him how I trapped you.”
“I swore upon the River Styx that I would remain in the arena until I bested a child of the Big Three.” Julio could hear the resignation in the demigod’s voice. Even through the hoarseness from screaming, there was stiffness, like it had been recited too many times.
The giant laughed maniacally. “I trapped him! A son of Athena in my clutches for cheap entertainment! And nothing for him to say for it!” The giant clapped his hands together. “Give him one of your swords, boy! It’s only fair.”
The demigod wandered over, then stood in front of Julio, glancing between both his swords like he was trying to decide which one to hand over. Julio was handed the one with a single blade. The handle was warm and soft under his grip, and the blade was clean despite its recent use.
The giant ushered them to opposite sides of the arena, then began counting down, and then Julio was running toward the other demigod like he wasn’t scared for his life.
The way he knew he needed to block the sword coming for his throat was almost instinct. The clang of metal on metal was heady and briefly reminded Julio of the clicking noise the grate made when he fell into the labyrinth. The other struck again, and Julio’s balance was thrown to the left. He stumbled, and the other guy’s sword dragged against the ground as he caught himself.
“I would rather you not do that to my sword.” Julio rolled away as the guy swiped at him. His hands scraped roughly against the ground. “Do you understand how long it takes to clean them after a fight?”
“No?” The arena’s ground was loose and sandy. Julio scrabbled at it as the other guy talked. He was chatty, the annoying type that usually had him annoyed right back. This time, he felt pity, then pride when he threw a handful of gravel at his face.
The guy staggered away coughing, which gave Julio enough time to get away from him and regroup. He fought dirty. He’d played the same trick on Tabby when they were younger. She’d fallen for it twice, then never again. He used his surroundings to his advantage; the sword was hindering him more than helping.
“I’ll give you your sword back if you can catch me!” Julio taunted, waving the sword in the air. He turned and ran, playing a game of keep-away.
“You will lose!” The guy had recovered enough to start running after him. “My stamina is twice that of yours.”
“Will not!” Julio arced around the edge of the arena, the crunch of gravel drowned out by cheering. The arena was underground. The ground was made of stone and gravel. He had an advantage whether his opponent knew it or not.
The arena floor trembled at Julio’s insistence. The demigod behind him slowed at the disturbance. If he could keep him talking, maybe he’d be distracted enough to make a mistake. “Who’re you related to, anyway?”
“That has nothing to do with the circumstances.”
The demigod inched ever closer to Julio’s slowing stride. Julio, impulsive, threw the sword back to him to try and get away. “Sword got your tongue?”
“Hopefully yours.” The guy swiped his sword from the air. “I don’t see how sharing my parentage with my opponent has any use.”
“You don’t want to get to know the guy you’re about to kill?” Julio ducked as the sword sliced toward him again. He stomped the ground, the earth cracking and rippling beneath him. The boy retreated as Julio turned to face him. “Your loss.” He backed away and—tripped over his own crack in the dirt.
He landed hard on the ground, skin ripping from his elbows as the other guy lunged over him, swords clattering to the ground as he skidded to a stop. Julio rolled onto his back, gasping for air for the second time in the span of half an hour. He could barely hear the crowd over the sound of his heart thudding in his chest.
He should be dead. He should be bleeding out from a sword to the gut, but he wasn’t. The boy rose to stand above him, looming over him. Julio was close enough to see the sweat accumulating under his helmet. His eyes were wide and blue-grey. The star on his helmet glittered in the light created from a mystery hole in the ceiling. He held his swords over him, hesitating.
Julio’s eyes widened at the look. The demigod hadn’t made a move to kill him. He could’ve finished him right at the start, but didn’t for… reasons? He wasn’t sure. Maybe an escape route?
He needed an escape route too, badly. He needed a distraction, something large enough for the giant to focus on. Julio scrambled away. The guy’s eyes followed him as he stood up and turned to the seat of honor. He followed, far enough behind Julio to give him time.
“Hey!” Julio looked up at the giant. “What happens if he doesn’t kill me?”
The giant frowned. “You kill him! You will be my new champion.”
“What about a tie?”
“Preposterous!”
“Mojo!” the other demigod called out. “I have not broken my oath. We are at a stalemate. I refuse to kill him, and he refuses to kill me. We have bested each other in this battle by ending it in a draw. Release me at once.”
“Ridiculous!” the giant shrieked. “Just like your mother with her tricks! Major Domo, seize them!”
“Of course, darling.”
A shrill grinding noise filled the arena. Julio turned toward the bronze doors he had entered through and watched as a gate slowly began to lower down in front of them. He broke out in a sprint, hoping the earth would help him even just a little bit. He darted toward the doors, rolling underneath the gate and back into the hallway.
Julio panted roughly on the floor, his legs and lungs burning as the scrape of metal on stone, a clink of a helmet being thrown, then the clunk of the gate shutting behind him rang out. The other guy got out behind him. Good.
He gave it a few minutes before pulling himself up to his feet and facing his shadow.
The boy looked almost normal now that he had his helmet off. His hair was ginger and a lot longer than Julio thought, curling to his waist when he loosened it from the braid that had been hidden under his helmet. Julio watched as he pulled it back into a ponytail and decided that he was kind of pretty despite the circumstances.
“We are still stuck in the labyrinth.” The boy picked his helmet off the ground and turned it in his hands.
“We’ll make it out—” Julio’s voice trailed off . He never got the guy’s name.
“Benjamin,” the boy said.
“Right. Ben.” Julio hoped he was okay with nicknames. “We just gotta find an exit.”