This Dark Night ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase¹

―ix. never meet your heroes

THEY FINALLY STOPPED in a room full of waterfalls. The floor was one giant pit, with a slippery stone walkway that circled around it. All around them from all four walls, water tumbled from huge pipes. It spilled down into the pit, and even when Percy shone a light down, there was no telling how deep it was.

Briares slumped over against the wall. He scooped up water in a dozen hands and washed his face. "This pit goes straight to Tartarus," he murmured. "I should jump in and save you the trouble."

"Don't talk that way," Annabeth told him. "You can come back to camp with us. You can help us prepare. You know more about fighting Titans than anybody."

"I have nothing to offer," Briares said. "I have lost everything."

"What about your brothers?" Tyson asked. "The other two must still stand tall as mountains! We can take you to them."

Briares's expression morphed into something even sadder: his grieving face. "They are no more. They faded."

The waterfalls thundered. Tyson stared into the pit and blinked tears out of his eye.

"What do you mean, they faded?" Naomi asked, lost. "I thought monsters were immortal."

"Nay," Grover said weakly. "Even immortality has limits. Sometimes... sometimes monsters get forgotten and they lose their will to stay immortal."

Looking at Grover's face, Naomi wondered if he was thinking of Pan.

Naomi had never given much thought to how old the gods and monsters were, but now, looking at Briares, she realized how terrible it would be to live so long, the years passing like leaves on the wind, never stopping to give you a moment's glance. She couldn't imagine how lonely it must have been.

"I must go," Briares said.

"Kronos's army will invade camp," Tyson said. "We need help."

Briares hung his head. "I cannot, Cyclops."

"You are strong."

"Not anymore." Briares rose.

Percy tried to talk him out of it, but the years had weighed on Briares. He turned and trudged off down the corridor, until he was lost in the shadows.

Tyson sobbed.

"It's okay." Grover hesitantly patted his shoulder, which must've taken all his courage.

Tyson sneezed. "It's not okay, goat bot. He was my hero."

Naomi wished she could find something to say, but what do you tell someone when they realize their hero wasn't as heroic as they'd always thought?

Finally, Annabeth stood and shouldered her backpack. "Come on, guys. This pit is making me nervous. Let's find a better place to camp for the night."

❊

They settled in a corridor made of huge marble blocks. It looked like it could've been part of a Greek tomb, with bronze torch holders fastened to the walls. It had to be an older part of the maze, and Annabeth decided it was a good sign.

"We must be close to Daedalus's workshop," she said. "Get some rest, everybody. We'll keep going in the morning."

"How do we know when it's morning?" Grover asked.

"Just rest," she insisted.

Grover didn't need to be told twice. He pulled a heap of straw out of his pack, ate some of it, made a pillow out of the rest, and was snoring in no time. Tyson took longer getting to sleep. He tinkered with some metal scraps from his building kit for a while, but whatever he was making, he wasn't happy with it. He kept disassembling the pieces.