The Ambassador of the Gods

2. Percy Jackson and The One That Happens Without Him

After a second, his step lightened: Camp bustling around him was infectious, and Chiron had just given him permission to crash on whatever Annabeth was doing.

As Percy crossed the green to the Athena Cabin, he was distracted enough -- and almost everyone else was -- to miss Nico di Angelo appearing out of nowhere in front of the Hades Cabin, wearing a ring on the middle finger of his left hand and a blank, stunned look in his eyes, still reeling from the gods.

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Nico found himself outside the Hades Cabin.

It was bright and there were people everywhere, but he stopped himself from going in. There was a big statue of Hades inside, one he just couldn't look at right now. Instead he walked in a daze over the grass and onto the nearest path, one hand wrapped around the ring, trying to figure out inside his head the same thing he'd already figured out over and over, not heading in any particular direction.

He felt gazes of the trickle of passing campers fall on him, slide away, and then double back in surprise or curiosity.

He wasn't supposed to come back here. He'd told Percy he didn't belong, and it was true. When he had been with the Hermes cabin, they'd figured out that his memories were weird -- taking a look at the cabins, maybe, would jog his memory and they'd be able to figure out who his godly parent was. Nico had taken one peek inside the dark, glowing-green Hades Cabin with coffins for beds and decided it was for the best that this wasn't where he was staying.

Nico looked up at the feeling of a gaze lingering on him.

Chiron, immortal activities director of Camp Half-Blood, was on the deck of the Big House on his left. Dionysus was a distance ahead, leaning back against the fence of the strawberry fields and watching them judgmentally.

Chiron looked over at Dionysus with him. He turned back to Nico. "Come inside?" the centaur offered.

Nico went inside.

Chiron closed the door behind them. He nodded Nico to a seat at the table in the parlour and waited until Nico sat. It was dark, despite the sunlight pouring in through the windows, and Chiron began to light the wicked lamps.

"I figured it out myself," the centaur said finally. His voice was slow, and calm, and low.

Nico remained silent. Behind Chiron was a framed photograph of the centaur surrounded by twenty or so violently cheering demigods, hoisting two opposing flags in the air.

Chiron said, "After the Second World War, there were very little demigods here. A tight-knit group." He set the last lamp back on its hook on the wall and glanced at Nico. "When demigods began to drop out of contact, one by one, it was strange. Stranger still that they were alive, but secretive, and nervous around close friends." 

He said, "Eventually they learned to stay away entirely."

Nico stared at him.

"It has been... a long time since a demigod that has already been here, in Camp, has been chosen. Too suspicious, and too jarring for the chosen. But I have still seen that sigil on enough rings, to know..." Chiron trailed off, clopping nervously.

Nico watched him close the blinds, the flats clanking.

"The Ambassador of the Gods is a title created by gods grown old, not the usurpers of the Titans, Nico. Unlike this camp, and much of our realm," he said finally, "Gods who have learned about every type of demigod, and have learned to weave a protection around this best kept secret that is faultless. I dearly wish--"

He was standing opposite the table from Nico, and when his gaze switched, it occurred to Nico that Chiron -- the millennia old immortal, the trainer of a thousand heroes -- was struggling to get the words out.