Flowergirl, Percy Jackson

007. Leap of Faith

007───────ஐ〰ฺ･:*:･✿leap of faith

THEY RUN FOR WHAT SEEMS LIKE HOURS. When their muscles ache, their limbs stiffen, and the adrenaline begins to wear off, Annabeth finally deems the Labyrinth safe enough for rest. Despite this, Lila cannot banish the overwhelming feeling that it is not enough; Kampê is still not far enough behind. But no matter how far away they manage to get, however many miles they manage to put between them and the dragon-woman, it will never be enough.

Lila could collapse in relief. Her legs are stiff and throbbing. If she bends down, she worries that she might not get back up, a little like an old woman who's done too much exercise. It's embarrassing. But after sprinting and fighting and just trying so hard to stay alive, they deserve a break, so they settle for the night on the ground a marble corridor; trembling, sighing.

Lila doesn't feel like a hero - she feels like a child, playing at Hercules and Achilles, and falling short. How did Theseus survive this alone without yielding to insanity?

"It's like the inside of a Greek tomb," Percy pbserves, eyeing the torches that frame the corridors. "Part of one, anyway."

Lila presses her lips together, bouncing on her toes. "How do you know what the inside of a Greek tomb looks like?"

He doesn't answer.

She isn't the greatest fan of that response. Despite the ache of her muscles and her mind crying for a rest, she's still full of nervous energy, unsurprisingly. (Lila always feels animated after a fight - her body just can't seem to get the message that there is no danger. Which may turn out to be a blessing, seeing as there is usually danger.) She's not the only one - both Grover and Percy are jittery, surveying every inch of the room, probably expecting to find a thousand hidden traps.

"We must be close to Daedalus's workshop," Annabeth decides, fingers tracing the marble carvings on the wall with an artist's precision. Lila leans forward to form her own opinion - but it just looks like plain stone. But Annabeth is the smartest person Lila knows, so she accepts her words without argument. "Get some rest, everybody. We'll keep going in the morning."

Grover looks around sceptically at the shadowy corners, up at the ceiling that allows no luminescence to break through, firmer and surer than stone. The only light in the tomb-like room is cast from the torches hanging on the walls in dancing patterns, the flames flickering and flaring. Never constant, never still. It's eerie.

"This feels like a bad place to rest," he intones cautiously.

Annabeth looks certain, but Lila can tell she's putting on a brave face for the others. (Lila has known Annabeth for too long to be fooled - when you have spent so much time with each other, you just know when something is wrong.) Her lips press together, trembling slightly.

"There's nowhere else," Lila tells him, offering Annabeth a smile of encouragement. The grey-eyed girl smiles back, though she still looks unsure. "Let's just try."

Despite her brave words, Lila can't help how uncomfortable she feels. If - when the torches burn out, they will be left to wake up to nothing but the blackness of the abyss above - which sounds like a living nightmare. Hopefully the torches are protected by some magic that keeps them constantly alight - or perhaps Hecate will keep the torches burning in another breadcrumb of kindness. (Then again, Hecate is supposedly working for Kronos, so Lila still has mixed feelings about burning offerings and using her magic. She does it anyway - she doesn't want to get blasted into dust and ash and nothing.)

"How do we know when it's morning?" Grover asks. Lila wishes he hadn't; she'd rather not think about it.

"Just rest," Annabeth insists.