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Annabeth grumbled, untangling another factory knot in her cream-colored skein. It was the third one, and if she found another, she would personally be calling Mary Maxim, monsters be damned.
“You were saying something about a Sphinx,” Calypso prompted. They were settled in a lounge at the Waystation, the lighting good, but not harsh.
Percy was still finishing up his chores for the night. Tomorrow, they would continue east back to Manhattan for winter break at Camp. Leo was tinkering with Jo a few doors down, and the clanks of mechanics was soothing, reminding Annabeth of the sense of safety the Argo II had brought.
Annabeth had already knitted a winter hat for Estelle and a bigger hat for Paul. Now, she just needed to finish this scarf for Sally before Christmas.
With a reluctant noise, Annabeth snipped the knot and tied back on, continuing on with her v-stitch scarf. “Right. So, naturally I’m prepared for a riddle. The classic being ‘what walks on four legs in the morning, two in the day, and three in the evening?’”
“Man. A classic, indeed,” Calypso agreed, weaving at her loom, her fingers moving with a speed and certainty that Annabeth admired. “I take it that the Sphinx asked no such thing?”
“Nope. First, she tells me that instead of one riddle, now it’s twenty.”
“Twenty!” Calypso yelped, almost dropping a strand. “And you have to get them all correct or be eaten?”
Annabeth nodded. “So, I’m nervous, but then she starts asking things like the capital of Bulgaria, the square root of 16, which president signed the Emancipation Proclamation. Basic facts.”
“Only if you know recent mortal culture and history, perhaps,” Calypso pointed out.
“Fair,” Annabeth conceded. “Apparently they standardized the ‘riddles’” —here, she raised her hands, crochet hook still grasped, and gave air quotes— “like they standardized tests. She gave me a booklet and a number 2 pencil, too.”
Calypso groaned, now intimately familiar with the woes of standardized tests after a few semesters of mortal high school. “The horrors.”
Annabeth nodded, reaching the end of her row and turning the scarf in her lap. “So, naturally, being a daughter of Athena, I could not let that rest. Percy and Grover tried to get me to just play along, but my pride wouldn’t allow that. I told the Sphinx that those weren’t riddles and that the test was stupid.”
Calypso gave her a look that was equal parts amused and scandalized. “You challenged the Sphinx and lived?”
“Yep. Granted, Percy’s brother Tyson—“
“The cyclops general?”
“That one. He knocked her out of the air when she charged me, then he, Grover, and Percy got me out of the tunnel, buying just enough time for the bars to slam shut, keeping us alive.”
“I can’t believe I thought Percy was the reckless one,” Calypso mused, her eyes glittering with amusement. “You are even more headstrong than he.”
Annabeth gave her friend a crooked grin. “Alright, your turn to bitch.”
“I would not mind hearing more of your time in the Labyrinth, but very well.” Calypso thought for a moment, and then a grin split her face. “Ah, yes. Allow me to tell you about our first stop in New Jersey with the fallen sun god. It involved a nest of monsters and a large quantity of butter.”
“Oh, yes.” Annabeth pulled more yarn from the skein and settled deeper into the worn, leather chair. “I love hearing tales of the woes of Lester Papadopoulos.”