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

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“That’s not right,” Grover murmured, but Geryon just kept narrating the tour.
“Now, over here,” he said, “we have our fire-breathing horses, which you may have seen on your way
in. They’re bred for war, naturally.”
“What war?” I asked.
Geryon grinned slyly. “Oh, whichever one comes along. And over yonder, of course, are our prize red
cows.”
Sure enough, hundreds of the cherry-colored cattle were grazing the side of the hill.
“So many,” Grover said.
“Yes, well, Apollo is too busy to see them,” Geryon explained, “so he subcontracts to us. We breed
them vigorously because there’s such a demand.”
“For what?”I asked.
Geryon raised an eyebrow.“Meat, of course! Armies have to eat.”
“You kill the sacred cows of the sun god for hamburger meat?” Grover said. “That’sthe against ancient
laws!”
“Oh, don’t get so worked up, satyr. They’re just animals.”
“Just animals!”
“Yes, and if Apollo cared, I’m sure he would tell us.”
“If he knew,” I muttered.
Nico sat forward. “I don’t care about any of this, Geryon. We had business to discuss, and this wasn’t
it!”
“All in good time, Mr.di Angelo.Look over here; some of my exotic game.”
The next field was ringed in barbed wire. The whole area was crawling with giant scorpions.
“Triple G Ranch,” I said, suddenly remembering. “Your mark was on the crates at camp. Quintus got his
scorpions from you.”
“Quintus…” Geryon mused.“Short gray hair, muscular, swordsman?”
“Yeah.”
“Never heard of him,” Geryon said. “Now, over here are my prize stables! You must see them.”
I didn’t need to see them, because as soon as we got within three hundred yards I started to smell them.
Near the banks of a green river was a horse corral the size of a football field. Stables lined one side of it.
About a hundred horses were milling around in the muck—and when I say muck, I mean horse poop. It