The Battle of the Labyrinth - Summoning

He was watching some gravediggers at work. I heard shovels and saw dirt flying out of a hole. Nico was dressed in a black cloak. The night was foggy. It was warm and humid, and frogs were croaking. A large Wal-Mart bag sat next to Nico’s feet.

“Is it deep enough yet?” Nico asked. He sounded irritated.

“Nearly, my lord.” It was the same ghost I’d seen Nico with before, the faint shimmering image of a man. “But, my lord, I tell you, this is unnecessary. You already have me for advice.”

“I want a second opinion!” Nico snapped his fingers, and the digging stopped. Two figures climbed out of the hole. They weren’t people. They were skeletons in ragged clothes.

“You are dismissed,” Nico said. “Thank you.”

The skeletons collapsed into piles of bones.

“You might as well thank the shovels,” the ghost complained. “They have as much sense.”

Nico ignored him. He reached into his Wal-Mart bag and pulled out a twelve-pack of Coke. He popped open a can. Instead of drinking it, he poured it into the grave.

“Let the dead taste again,” he murmured. “Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember.”

He dropped the rest of the Cokes into the grave and pulled out a white paper bag decorated with cartoons. I hadn’t seen one in years, but I recognized it—a McDonald’s Happy Meal.

He turned it upside down and shook the fries and hamburger into the grave.

“In my day, we used animal blood,” the ghost mumbled. “It’s perfectly good enough. They can’t taste the difference.”

“I will treat them with respect,” Nico said.

“At least let me keep the toy,” the ghost said.

“Be quiet!” Nico ordered. He emptied another twelve-pack of soda and three more Happy Meals into the grave, then began chanting in Ancient Greek. I caught only some of the words—a lot about the dead and memories and returning from the grave. Real happy stuff.

The grave started to bubble. Frothy brown liquid rose to the top like the whole thing was filling with soda. The fog thickened. The frogs stopped croaking. Dozens of figures began to appear among the gravestones: bluish, vaguely human shapes. Nico had summoned the dead with Coke and cheeseburgers.

“There are too many,” the ghost said nervously. “You don’t know your own powers.”

“I’ve got it under control,” Nico said, though his voice sounded fragile. He drew his sword—a short blade made of solid black metal. I’d never seen anything like it. It wasn’t celestial bronze or steel. Iron, maybe? The crowd of shades retreated at the sight of it.

“One at a time,” Nico commanded.

A single figure floated forward and knelt at the pool.

It made slurping sounds as it drank. Its ghostly hands scooped french fries out of the pool. When it stood again, I could see it much more clearly—a teenage guy in Greek armor. He had curly hair and green eyes, a clasp shaped like a seashell on his cloak.

“Who are you?” Nico said. “Speak.”

The young man frowned as if trying to remember. Then he spoke in a voice like dry, crumpling paper: “I am Theseus.”

No way, I thought. This couldn’t be the Theseus. He was just a kid. I’d grown up hearing stories about him fighting the Minotaur and stuff, but I’d always pictured him as this huge, buff guy. The ghost I was looking at wasn’t strong or tall. And he wasn’t any older than I was.

“How can I retrieve my sister?” Nico asked.

Theseus’s eyes were lifeless as glass. “Do not try. It is madness.”

“Just tell me!”

“My stepfather died,” Theseus remembered. “He threw himself into the sea because he thought I was dead in the Labyrinth. I wanted to bring him back, but I could not.”

Nico’s ghost hissed, “My lord, the soul exchange! Ask him about that!”

Theseus scowled. “That voice. I know that voice.”

“No you don’t, fool!” the ghost said. “Answer the lord’s questions and nothing more!”

“I know you,” Theseus insisted, as if struggling to recall.

“I want to hear about my sister,” Nico said. “Will this quest into the Labyrinth help me win her back?”

Theseus was looking for the ghost, but apparently couldn’t see him. Slowly he turned his eyes back on Nico. “The Labyrinth is treacherous. There is only one thing that saw me through: the love of a mortal girl. The string was only part of the answer. It was the princess who guided me.”

“We don’t need any of that,” the ghost said. “I will guide you, my lord. Ask him if it is true about an exchange of souls. He will tell you.”

“A soul for a soul,” Nico asked. “Is it true?”

“I—I must say yes. But the specter—”

“Just answer the questions, knave!” the ghost said.

Suddenly, around the edges of the pool, the other ghosts became restless. They stirred, whispering in nervous tones.

“I want to see my sister!” Nico demanded. “Where is she?”

“He is coming,” Theseus said fearfully. “He has sensed your summons. He comes.”

“Who?” Nico demanded.

“He comes to find the source of this power,” Theseus said. “You must release us!”

The water in my fountain began to tremble, humming with power. I realized the whole cabin was shaking. The noise grew louder. The image of Nico in the graveyard started to glow until it was painful to watch.

“Stop,” I said out loud. “Stop it!”

The fountain began to crack. Tyson muttered in his sleep and turned over. Purple light threw horrible, ghostly shadows on the cabin walls, as if the specters were escaping right out of the fountain.

In desperation I uncapped Riptide and slashed at the fountain, cleaving it in two. Salt water spilled everywhere, and the great stone font crashed to the floor in pieces. Tyson snorted and muttered, but he kept sleeping.

I sank to the ground, shivering from what I’d seen. Tyson found me there in the morning, still staring at the shattered remains of the saltwater fountain.


- The Battle of the Labyrinth, Chapter 5