𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐄𝐍𝐃! percy jackson ²

xxv. Servant of the Dead

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chapter twenty-five.
( battle of the labyrinth )
❝ servant of the dead! ❞

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    I much prefer travelling through the Labyrinth talking rather than in silence. I could hear nearly every suspicious sound that felt like it was coming from right beside me. The light led us down a set of stairs and to the right into a spider-web covered tunnel made from stone. Beetles scuttled away from our feet, hiding back into the crevices. I tried not to think whether there would be spiders in those webs (and there most likely would be, which is why I'm refusing to look at any of them).

    Glancing beside me at Cain, I wondered whether I should say something. The right thing to do would be to apologise, it would seem. But how can I apologise if I don't mean it? Cain belongs at Camp Half-Blood! It's his home, not this dark, ever-changing hell we have to walk through. Something's messing with his head; the Maze, that's what is doing so. He's not thinking like himself—it's fear. He's facing his own fear and he doesn't know how to deal with it. That must be it. That has to be it.

    But then again, perhaps I wasn't seeing it from his perspective. I have a cabin at camp. I was claimed by my father. I knew who my siblings were. I had my family at camp. Cain doesn't; he's unclaimed, stuck in the Hermes cabin, and the majority of everyone at camp feared him like he was the plague.

    I pursed my lips and awkwardly fiddled with my necklace. I always wondered what Cain's fear was, and suddenly, I think I figured it out. Glancing at him again, I took a brave breath and asked, "You're fear━it's of yourself, isn't it? That's why you think everyone should be scared of you, too."

    Cain met my gaze. I expected him to be angry, but instead, he just looked pained. He nodded numbly. In the glow of the light, he looked like a ghost he was so pale. "I'm not a good person, Claire. I ... I killed my mom."

    I frowned, a little taken-aback. I thought he was joking, but the look on his face told me otherwise. "Wait, what? How?"

   He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. "She ... she died protecting me."

    "That ... that doesn't mean it's your fault, Cain."

    "Yes it does," he told me, clenching his jaw. "I... I was always a loner, ever since I was a kid. People were always scared of me. But my mom, she was never scared of me," there was a sad smile on his face. "She always told me not to worry about others. That I was special."

     "She was right," I murmured and he agreed.

     "Yeah. Always thought she was trying to make me feel better, but now I guess she meant: don't worry about others, you're a demigod." Cain chuckled dryly. He pushed his hair off his face. "Anyway ... so yeah, I scared a lot of people. Our small town hated me so much. So, one night, some drunken guys after a football match decided that it would be good to get rid of me forever. They broke the door down, and my mum told me to hide. I hid in the closet, the door ajar. And I saw her try to protect me. She fought them, threw things at them, did everything to keep them away from me. In the end, one of the guys ... they ..." his voice cracked, and Cain gritted his teeth. "They found a frypan and knocked her straight across the head. She didn't get back up."