THE BATTLE OF THE LABYRINTH Percy Jackson ... - No one's invited.

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The next time I woke it was night, but I wasn’t sure if it was the same night or many nights later. I was in
the bed in the cave, but I rose and wrapped a robe around myself and padded outside. The stars were
brilliant—thousands of them, like you only see way out in the country. I could make out all the
constellations Annabeth had taught me: Capricorn, Pegasus,Sagittarius . And there, near the southern
horizon, was a new constellation: the Huntress, a tribute to a friend of ours who had died last winter.
“Percy, what do you see?”
I brought my eyes back to earth. However amazing the stars were, Calypso was twice as brilliant. I
mean, I’ve seen the goddess of love herself, Aphrodite, and I would never say this out loud or she’d
blast me to ashes, but for my money, Calypso was a lot more beautiful, because she just seemed so
natural, like she wasn’t trying to be beautiful and didn’t even care about that. She justwas . With her
braided hair and white dress, she seemed to glow in the moonlight. She was holding a tiny plant in her
hands. Its flowers were silver and delicate.
“I was just looking at…” I found myself staring at her face. “Uh…I forgot.”
She laughed gently. “Well, as long as you’re up, you can help me plant these.”
She handed me a plant, which had a clump of dirt and roots at the base. The flowers glowed as I held
them. Calypso picked up her gardening spade and directed me to the edge of the garden, where she
began to dig.
“That’smoonlace ,” Calypso explained. “It can only be planted at night.”
I watched the silvery light flicker around the petals. “What does it do?”
“Do?” Calypso mused. “It doesn’t reallydo anything, I suppose. It lives, it gives light,it provides beauty.
Does it have to do anything else?”
“I suppose not,” I said.
She took the plant, and our hands met. Her fingers were warm. She planted themoonlace and stepped
back, surveying her work. “I love my garden.”
“It’s awesome,” I agreed. I mean, I wasn’t exactly a gardening type, but Calypso had arbors covered
with six different colors of roses, lattices filled with honeysuckle, rows of grapevines bursting with red and
purple grapes that would’ve made Dionysus sit up and beg.
“Back home,” I said, “my mom always wanted a garden.”
“Why did she not plant one?”
“Well, we live in Manhattan.In an apartment.”
“Manhattan?Apartment?”
I stared at her. “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”
“I fear not. I haven’t leftOgygia in…a long time.”