The Battle of The Labyrinth [Book Four]

An Old Friend.

So caught up in her thoughts about what she’d say to Bianca, if anything at all, that she was barely aware that it was happening right in front of her. After Nico demanded that Minos leave as they summon Bianca, she watched a bright orb - brighter than the rest - flutter over to the open pit filled with barbeque and root beer soda. The bright light was either too bright for the other gathered spirits or was a powerful being, because the other orbs of light seemed to back off and make way for this brighter light. As the figure knelt before the pit and drank its contents, a body began to make shape. Bianca’s hair was more curly than Reagan’s own hair, but the only startling difference was that a silver circlet adorned her head, a gentle glow and a reminder that Bianca di Angelo had become an immortal Hunter for Artemis. The spirit resembled Bianca perfectly before her death. So much so that Reagan felt a lump form in her throat, and she squeezed Annabeth’s hand tightly in her own, and felt a gentle squeeze in return that grounded her.

Nico had the same reaction. His bottom lip trembled, and he bit into it slightly before speaking in an uneven voice. “Now you come…?” he whispered in disbelief.

His sister smiled, albeit sadly. “Oh, Nico. Your hair has gotten so long.”

“Now you choose to come?” he repeated, tone more angry and adamant. “Because they are here?” He waved towards Reagan and her friends without looking away from his sister.

Bianca looked towards Reagan, her form shimmering. Reagan felt her voice crack, mouth opening and closing dumbly. “I’m so sorry,” she managed meekly.

The Hunter smiled gently. “Do not apologize for my own decisions. I do not regret them.”

I am glad that you are here to help my brother.”

“You…” The child of Ares hesitated, brows furrowing together. “I had a dream about Nico summoning ghosts a while back. Was that you?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m glad you got my Iris messages.”

“Why are you helping them?” Nico intervened, voice raised to a scream. “This isn’t fair!”

Her gaze softened immediately. “You can’t continue to be angry with me anymore. And you need to stop blaming Reagan for my own decisions. You need to move on,” she chastised gently, eyes glowing with love for her younger brother.

He shook his head furiously. “I can’t. Never. I just want my sister back.”

Bianca smiled sadly. “You know you can’t do that, Nico.”

“Yes, I can! I’m the son of Hades.”

Annabeth stepped forward. “She’s right, Nico. Reagan - all of us - want you to be safe. Kronos is growing in power. It’s not safe down here, and he’ll do anything in his power to get you on his side.”

“I don’t care about Kronos.”

The spirits began to shift, huddling closer around the pit to take a drink, hissing warnings of danger.

“I have to go,” Bianca began. “Tartarus stirs, and the spirits must return to the Underworld. Farewell, Nico. Don’t forget that I love you.”

She reached out, hand brushing over Nico’s cheek as if to caress it, but before she could make any contact, she vanished along with the rest of the spirits. As all the glowing orbs disappeared, the only remaining light was the full moon above their heads that lit up a smiley face on the side of a septic tank.

No one wanted to travel through the Labyrinth tonight if they could help it. So Eurytion let them stay at the ranch for the night. Percy, Tyson, and Grover slept in the living room, while Annabeth and Reagan took up another room, and Nico had disappeared for a bit. Reagan didn’t blame him. But as Annabeth got ready for bed, she wandered outside to the front porch, where Nico sat on the front steps staring up at the starry sky. She paused in the doorway, glancing around before stepping out.

“Can I sit with you?”

He shrugged dejectedly. “Whatever.”

She sat beside him, careful to keep some space between them. She hugged a single knee to her chest, staring up at the sky. And for the first time in about a year, Reagan thought about Zoë Nightshade, because she could vaguely spot her constellation in the sky. Seeing Bianca had resurfaced a lot of old feelings she had felt, and absently caressed her side where she was sliced open by Kampê. Nico spotted the slight movement out of the corner of his eyes, and brushed loose strands of hair behind his ear. She tried to smile faintly, eyes drinking in his disheveled appearance.

“She was right. Your hair really is getting long. At Camp Half-Blood-”

“I’m not going back,” Nico cut in flatly. His dark orbs fluttered to the side, gazing at her skeptically. “You’re really dying.”

It was more of a statement, not a question.

Reagan smiled softly. “So you can sense that stuff?” she asked curiously and rose an eyebrow. “But yeah. Guess I am.”

The girl rose the side of her shirt where a tear was, revealing the spot that was physically healed, yet looked sickly greenish pale because of the poison.

“What happened to Bianca was my fault. I guess the gods have a wicked sense of humor, and I deserve this.”

Nico didn’t respond at first. He picked at some invisible speck on his shirt to keep himself busy. She expected this, too. But finally he looked up from his shirt and over at her.

“There’s no way to help you?”

“Ambrosia healed the wound physically, but I’m still poisoned.”

He nodded, and to her surprise he stood up and brushed his pant legs and walked back inside, pausing as Annabeth met him in the doorway before slipping past her and going up the stairs to a room of his own for the night. Annabeth’s eyes followed him until he disappeared from view, and she walked outside into the night. Reagan was lost in thought, eyes drifting into a faraway look.The blonde’s fingers tickled along her friend’s back, from shoulder to shoulder, and Reagan jumped in fear and jumped up quickly. As she turned on her heels, a blush accompanied her wide eyes and shocked expression as she looked up at Annabeth. She giggled in response, allowing a bit of joy to surface despite their circumstances.

She smiled gently and sat down on the top step. “Scared much?”

Reagan steeled herself and ignored her blush. “Of course not.” She sat down a step lower beside Annabeth’s legs. “...maybe a little.”

Annabeth frowned, and instead of touching her shoulders, she gingerly combed her fingers through dark threads and fixed the hair absently. “Why’s that?”

She paused when Reagan tilted her head back to look at her, elbows resting on the step. But the expression on her face struck a chord in her heart: It was a look of concerned fear. Reagan was always the poster child of a stubborn daughter of Ares that never backed down from a fight. She never looked this terrified.

“Remember when Chiron said you’d be breaking ancient laws by bringing us all along?” Annabeth nodded, not liking the sound of where Reagan was going with this. “Well, he’s right.” The Italian girl’s voice had gone down to a bitter tone of acceptance, because the more she said it, the more realistic it seemed.

She was dying!

And with every time Reagan said it, it felt more close.

“No!” Annabeth cut through her string of thoughts like a dagger. “We can find Daedalus, and maybe he’ll have some antidote.”

Reagan turned her head once more, studying her close friend curiously. Her lips curled up into the faintest of smiles. “Annabeth, you’re single-handedly the best thing that’s happened to me.” She twisted the ring on her finger in consideration. “Coming to Camp Half-Blood… Meeting you and Percy and Grover-” She paused and chuckled. “And Tyson. And Nico. I don’t regret a single thing I’ve ever done.”

Annabeth frowned deeply and ran her fingers through her own unkempt mess of hair on her head. “You’re not dying,” she repeated calmly. “We’ll figure something out. We always do, right?”

She smiled slightly without looking away. “Right.”