chapter sixty-seven
─── responsibility? no!
𝕿he windows were open, cold air blasting it to combat the warm summer's day, and Luke's hand was resting on my leg as he drove. He had sunglasses on, snickering to himself as Annabeth and I bickered over the song choice and who the best character in Harry Potter was.
"Grover's at camp as well," Luke interrupted out bickering over the pros and cons of having moving staircases in Hogwarts.
"Is he?" Annabeth stopped talking to me, turning to face Luke, who nodded. "What about Pan?"
Luke made a 'eh' sound, shrugging his shoulders. "It's kind of hard to explain."
We rode in silence after that. Annabeth fell asleep soon into the trip (as car rides normally made her sleepy) and Luke and I were more than happy just being with each other. The city melted away until we were off the expressway and rolling through the countryside of northern Long Island, past orchards and wineries and fresh produce stands.
I stared at the phone number Rachel Dare had scrawled on Luke's hand. That was an interesting case. Most mortals couldn't see through the mist, so meeting one that could was rare. The only other person I knew who could was my mum.
Then again, my mum was Sally Jackson so that was to be expected.
We exited on Route 25A, heading through the woods along the North Shore until a low ridge of hills appeared on our left. Luke turned the car in, pulling off the road into a hidden close of trees that the naiads closed behind us. There were a few other cars there that the older campers had, and Luke parked near the exit before grinning. He held a finger to his lips, motioning for me to undo Annabeth's seatbelt. I did as quietly as I could.
"Annabeth!" She screeched as Luke gave her feet a tug towards him. She sat up, glaring at the blond man, who was laughing his head off.
"You think you're so funny," She swore at him straight after causing me to snort, before she retreated to my side. "Your boyfriend's an idiot."
"Tell me something I don't know," She turned and stuck her tongue out at Luke. Luke stopped laughing, grabbing his bags and locking the car, before wrapping his arms back around me.
We hiked to the crest of the hill. The young guardian dragon was dozing, coiled around the pine tree, but he lifted his coppery head as we approached and let me scratch under his chin. Steam hissed out his nostrils like from a teakettle, and he went cross-eyed with pleasure. Luke stayed far away from it.
"Hey baby." I cooed, before patting his nose.
The last time I'd seen the dragon he'd been six feet long. Now he was at least twice that, and as thick around as the tree itself. Above his head, on the lowest branch of the pine tree, the Golden Fleece shimmered, its magic protecting the camp's borders from invasion. The dragon seemed relaxed, like everything was okay. Below us, Camp Half-Blood looked peaceful— green fields, forest, shiny white Greek buildings.
Still...something felt wrong. There was tension in the air, as if the hill itself were holding its breath, waiting for something bad to happen.
We walked down into the valley and found the summer session in full swing. Most of the campers had arrived last Friday, but Luke and I technically weren't campers anymore (we were old).
The satyrs were playing their pipes in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow with woodland magic. Campers were having flying horseback lessons, swooping over the woods on their pegasi. Smoke rose from the forges, and hammers rang as kids made their own weapons for Arts & Crafts. The Athena and Demeter teams were having a chariot race around the track, and over at the canoe lake some kids in a Greek trireme were fighting a large orange sea serpent. A typical day at camp.
"I need to talk to Clarisse," Annabeth said.
"Hi and bye then," I snarked, grinning as Annabeth stuck her tongue out at me and stomped off. "They grow up so fast."
"She has grown," Luke corrected, grabbing Annabeth's bag from the floor as the two of us headed into camp.
"You know why she wants to talk to Clarisse?"
"I only show up to shout at my siblings and get notices about the war, nothing else." Luke grinned as we headed down into camp. He stopped, looking over my shoulder, before bringing his fingers to his lips and whistling. "Don't you even think about it Connor! Put the bonnet of the car down and get back to canoeing before I drag you down there myself!"
I watched the siblings slam the bonnet of the truck down and sprint towards the lake, as far away from Luke's glare as they could possibly get.
"You've got them well trained."
"Bribery." Luke nodded seriously.
Silena waved at me from her Pegasus as she flew past. I looked for Grover, but I didn't see him. Luke and I dumped our bags down in my cabin before heading to the sword fighting arena to blow off some steam before dinner and meetings in the evening.
Practicing always calms me down. Maybe that's because swordplay is one thing I can actually understand.
I walked into the amphitheatre and my heart almost stopped. In the middle of the arena floor, with its back to me, was the biggest hellhound I'd ever seen. My eyes went wide.
"Puppy!" I called, my eyes going wide as I launched myself at the dog to pet it. Luke grabbed me around the waist, knowing that I liked trying to cuddle dangerous animals (most notably Cerberus).
"Andi, no." He stated calmly, throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me away from the puppy and to a clear area as I pouted.
"But puppy."
"That's not your dog, Andi."
"Who's is it?"
"Mrs. O'Leary would be mine." A tall swordsman appeared behind Luke. At the sound of her name, the hellhound barked. She nudged the soggy, badly chewed target dummy toward the swordsman.
"Good girl," the man said. With his free hand he grabbed the armoured manikin by the neck and heaved it toward the bleachers. "Get the Greek! Get the Greek!"
Mrs. O'Leary bounded after her prey and pounced on the dummy, flattening its armour. She began chewing on its helmet.
The swordsman smiled dryly. He was in his fifties, I guess, with short grey hair and a clipped grey beard. He wore black mountain-climbing pants and a bronze breastplate strapped over an orange camp T-shirt. At the base of his neck was a strange mark, a purplish blotch like a birthmark or a tattoo, but before I could make out what it was, he shifted his armour straps and the mark disappeared under his collar.
"Mrs. O'Leary is my pet," he explained as Luke set me down, keeping a tight hold on the back of my armour as I chanted 'puppy, puppy, puppy' to myself.
"Who are you?" Luke asked, as I struggled against his grip.
He sheathed his sword and held out his hand. "Quintus."
"Luke Castellan and this is Andromeda Jackson," Luke pulled me back upright, spinning me around to face Quintus.
"How did you get a hellhound? You know, for informational purposes," I asked, beaming.
"Long story, involving many close calls with a death and quite a few giant chew toys. I'm the new sword instructor, by the way. Helping out Chiron while Mr. D is away."
"Oh." I tried not to stare as Mrs. O'Leary ripped off the target dummy's shield with the arm still attached and shook it like a Frisbee. "Mr. D is away?"
"Yes, well...busy times. Even Dionysus must help out. He's gone to visit some old friends. Make sure they're on the right side. I probably shouldn't say more than that."
Off to my left, there was a loud BUMP. Six wooden crates the size of picnic tables were stacked nearby, and they were rattling. Mrs. O'Leary cocked her head and bounded toward them.
"Whoa, girl!" Quintus said. "Those aren't for you." He distracted her with the bronze shield Frisbee.
The crates thumped and shook. There were words printed on the sides, but with my dyslexia they took me a few minutes to decipher:
TRIPLE G RANCH FRAGILE THIS END UP
I didn't bother to read the smaller letters.
"What's in the boxes?" I asked.
"A little surprise," Quintus said. "Training activity for tomorrow night. You'll love it."
"Uh, okay," I said.
Quintus threw the bronze shield, and Mrs. O'Leary lumbered after it. "You young ones need more challenges. They didn't have camps like this when I was a boy."
"You—you're a half-blood?" I didn't mean to sound surprised, but I'd never seen an old demigod before.
Quintus chuckled. "Some of us do survive into adulthood, you know. Not all of us are the subject of terrible prophecies."
"Ah, you heard about my super fun prophecy that says I'm gonna die?"
"I've heard a few things."
Just then Chiron clip-clopped into the arena. "Andromeda, Luke, there you are!"
He must've just come from teaching archery. He had a quiver and bow slung over his #1 CENTAUR T-shirt. He'd trimmed his curly brown hair and beard for the summer, and his lower half, which was a white stallion, was flecked with mud and grass.
"I see you've met our new instructor." Chiron's tone was light, but there was an uneasy look in his eyes. "Quintus, do you mind if I borrow then?"
"Not at all, Master Chiron."
"No need to call me 'Master'," Chiron said, though he sounded sort of pleased. "Come, you two. We have much to discuss."
Luke and I shared a look of horror, knowing that might mean a lecture, before turning to see if there was anyway to escape. There was none.
"Well, see you," I told Quintus as Luke and I dragged our feet and followed Chiron. As we were walking away, I whispered to Chiron, "Quintus seemed kind of—"
"Mysterious?" Chiron suggested. "Hard to read?"
"Yeah."
Chiron nodded. "A very qualified half-blood. Excellent swordsman, I just wish I understood..."
Whatever he was going to say, he apparently changed his mind. "First things first, Andromeda. Annabeth told me you met some empousai."
"That snitch," I turned to Luke. "I thought you taught her better."
"Don't look at me. I tried my best." Chiron sent the pair of us disapproving looks, before I reluctantly told him what had happened at the airport.
"Mm," Chiron said. "The more powerful ones can do that. She simply escaped. It is not good that the she-demons are stirring."
"What were they doing there?" I asked. "Waiting for me?"
"Possibly," Chiron frowned. "It is amazing you survived."
"Thanks."
Chiron nodded. "What the empousa said about an attack on camp—we must speak of this further. But for now, come, we should get to the woods. Grover will want you there."
"Where?"
"At his formal hearing," Chiron said grimly. "The Council of Cloven Elders is meeting now to decide his fate."
"My gods, he always gets in trouble when we're not around to supervise," I tutted.
∘☽༓☾∘
Chiron said we needed to hurry, so we let him give us a ride on his back. As we galloped past the cabins, I glanced at the dining hall. It was the first time I'd seen the place since last summer, and it brought back bad memories.
Chiron plunged into the woods. Nymphs peeked out of the trees to watch us pass. Large shapes rustled in the shadows—monsters that were stocked in here as a challenge to the campers.
I thought I knew the forest pretty well after playing capture the flag here for two summers, but Chiron took me a way I didn't recognize, through a tunnel of old willow trees, past a little waterfall, and into a glade blanketed with wildflowers.
A bunch of satyrs were sitting in a circle in the grass. Grover stood in the middle, facing three really old, really fat satyrs who sat on topiary thrones shaped out of rose bushes. I'd never seen the three old satyrs before, but I guessed they must be the Council of Cloven Elders.
Grover seemed to be telling them a story. He twisted the bottom of his T-shirt, shifting nervously on his goat hooves. He hadn't changed much since last winter, maybe because satyrs age half as fast as humans. His acne had flared up. His horns had gotten a little bigger so they just stuck out over his curly hair. I was still taller than him.
Standing off to one side of the circle were Annabeth, another girl I'd never seen before, and Clarisse. Chiron dropped me and Luke off next to them.
"Clarisse, long time no see." I brushed my shirt off, watching the proceedings with wide eyes.
"Late as usual, Jackson."
Annabeth had her arm around the other girl, who looked like she'd been crying. She was small with wispy hair the colour of amber. She wore a green chiton and laced sandals, and she was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "It's going terribly," she sniffled.
"No, no," Annabeth patted her shoulders. "He'll be fine, Juniper."
Luke looked at me and mouthed the words Grover's girlfriend. I made a face as I understood what was going on, before nodding.
"Master Underwood!" the council member on the right shouted, cutting off whatever Grover was trying to say. "Do you seriously expect us to believe this?"
"B-but Silenus," Grover stammered. "It's the truth!"
The Council guy, Silenus, turned to his colleagues and muttered something. Chiron cantered up to the front and stood next to them. I remembered he was an honorary member of the council, but I'd never thought about it much. The elders didn't look very impressive. They reminded me of the goats in a petting zoo—huge bellies, sleepy expressions, and glazed eyes that couldn't see past the next handful of goat chow. I wasn't sure why Grover seemed so nervous.
Silenus tugged his yellow polo shirt over his belly and adjusted himself on his rosebush throne. "Master Underwood, for six months—six months— we have been hearing these scandalous claims that you heard the wild god Pan speak."
"But I did!"
"Impudence!" said the elder on the left.
"Now, Maron," Chiron said. "Patience."
"Patience, indeed!" Maron said. "I've had it up to my horns with this nonsense. As if the wild god would speak to...to him."
Juniper looked like she wanted to charge the old satyr and beat him up, but Annabeth and Clarisse held her back. "Wrong fight," Clarisse muttered. "Wait."
"For six months," Silenus continued, "we have indulged you, Master Underwood. We let you travel. We allowed you to keep your searcher's license. We waited for you to bring proof of your preposterous claim. And what have you found in six months of travel?"
"I just need more time," Grover pleaded.
"Nothing!" the elder in the middle chimed in. "You have found nothing."
"But, Leneus—"
Silenus raised his hand. Chiron leaned in and said something to the satyrs. The satyrs didn't look happy. They muttered and argued among themselves, but Chiron said something else, and Silenus sighed. He nodded reluctantly.
"Master Underwood," Silenus announced, "we will give you one more chance."
Grover brightened. "Thank you!"
"One more week."
"What? But sir! That's impossible!"
"One more week, Master Underwood and then, if you cannot prove your claims, it will be time for you to pursue another career. Something to suit your dramatic talents. Puppet theater, perhaps. Or tap dancing."
"But sir, I—I can't lose my searcher's license. My whole life—"
"This meeting of the council is adjourned," Silenus said. "And now let us enjoy our noonday meal!"
The old satyr clapped his hands, and a bunch of nymphs melted out of the trees with platters of vegetables, fruits, tin cans, and other goat delicacies. The circle of satyrs broke and charged the food.
Grover walked dejectedly toward us.
"Hi, Romy," he said, so depressed he didn't even try to hug me. "That went well, huh?"
"Those old goats!" Juniper said. "Oh, Grover, they don't know how hard you've tried!"
"There is another option," Clarisse said darkly.
"No. No." Juniper shook her head. "Grover, I won't let you."
His face was ashen. "I—I'll have to think about it. But we don't even know where to look."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
In the distance, a conch horn sounded.
Annabeth pursed her lips. "I'll fill you in later, Romy. We'd better get back to our cabins. Inspection is starting."
"Why does no one ever want to tell me things?" Luke snickered, as I stomped towards my cabin. "I'm a mature adult. I can handle it."
That sent him into full blown hysterics.
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It didn't seem fair that I'd have to do cabin inspection when I just got to camp, but that's the way it worked. Every afternoon, one of the senior counsellors came around with a checklist. Best cabin got first shower hour, which meant hot water guaranteed. Worst cabin got kitchen patrol after dinner.
Luckily for me, Luke normally checked my cabin, and as he was my boyfriend, he normally gave me some leniency. Nepotism at its finest.
The Poseidon cabin was at the end of the row on the right side of the green. It was made of grey shell-encrusted sea rock, long and low like a bunker, but it had windows that faced the sea and it always had a good breeze blowing through it.
I dashed inside, wondering if maybe I could do a quick under-the-bed cleaning job like the Hermes guys, and I found Tyson sweeping the floor.
"Romy!" he bellowed.
"Tyson!" I called in response, forgetting all about my cleaning woes to throw myself onto my younger brother and hug him tightly. "Baby bro!"
He put me down, grinning like crazy, his single calf-brown eye full of excitement. He was a sight for sore eyes. I hadn't seen him in almost a year, since he'd gone under the sea to work at the Cyclopes' forges.
"You are okay?" he asked. "Not eaten by monsters?"
"Not even a little bit." I showed him that I still had both arms and both legs, and Tyson clapped happily.
"Yay!" he said. "Now we can eat peanut butter sandwiches and ride fish ponies! We can fight monsters and see Annabeth and Luke and make things go BOOM!"
I hoped he didn't mean all at the same time, but I told him absolutely, we'd have a lot of fun this summer. I couldn't help smiling, he was so enthusiastic about everything.
"But first," I said, "we've gotta worry about inspection. We should..."
Then I looked around and realized Tyson had been busy. The floor was swept. The bunk beds were made. The saltwater fountain in the corner had been freshly scrubbed so the coral gleamed. On the windowsills, Tyson had set out water-filled vases with sea anemones and strange glowing plants from the bottom of the ocean, more beautiful than anyone else could whip up.
"Tyson, the cabin looks...amazing!"
He beamed. "See the fish ponies? I put them on the ceiling!"
A herd of miniature bronze hippocampi hung on wires from the ceiling, so it looked like they were swimming through the air.
"Early birthday gift." He patted me, as I laughed in amazement.
Then I looked over at my bunk, and I saw my old shield hanging on the wall.
"You fixed it!"
The shield had been badly damaged in a manticore attack last winter. But now it was perfect again—not a scratch. All the bronze pictures of my adventures with Tyson and Luke in the Sea of Monsters were polished and gleaming.
I looked at Tyson before nudging him.
Then somebody behind me said, "Oh, my." It turned out it wasn't Luke doing my inspections.
Silena was standing in the doorway with her inspection scroll. She stepped into the cabin, did a quick twirl, then raised her eyebrows at me. "Well, I had my doubts. But you clean up nicely, Andromeda. I'll remember that."
She winked at me and left the room which gave me some hope that Tyson and I would get somewhat lukewarm showers.
∘☽༓☾∘
Tyson and I spent the afternoon catching up and just hanging out, which was nice after a morning of getting attacked at the airport.
We went down to the forge and helped Beckendorf in Nine with his metalworking. Tyson showed us how he'd learned to craft magic weapons. He fashioned a flaming double-bladed war axe so fast even Beckendorf was impressed (and that was a tough feat).
While he worked, Tyson told us about his year under the sea. His eye lit up when he described the Cyclopes' forges and the palace of Poseidon, but he also told us how tense things were. The old gods of the sea, who'd ruled during Titan times, were starting to make war on our father. When Tyson had left, battles had been raging all over the Atlantic. Hearing that made me feel anxious, like I should be helping out, but Tyson assured me that Dad wanted us both at camp.
"Lots of bad people above the sea, too," Tyson said. "We can make them go boom."
After the forges, we spent some time at the canoe lake with Annabeth. She was really glad to see Tyson, but I could tell she was distracted. She kept looking over at the forest, like she was thinking about Grover's problem with the council. I couldn't blame her. Grover was nowhere to be seen, and I felt really bad for him. Finding the lost god Pan had been his lifelong goal. His father and his uncle had both disappeared following the same dream. If the council took away his searcher's license now, it would crush him.
"What's this 'other way'?" I asked Annabeth. "The thing Clarisse mentioned?"
She picked up a stone and skipped it across the lake. "Something Clarisse scouted out. I helped her a little this spring. But it would be dangerous. Especially for Grover."
"Goat boy scares me," Tyson murmured.
I stared at him. Tyson had faced down fire-breathing bulls and sea monsters and cannibal giants. "Why would you be scared of Grover?"
"Hooves and horns," Tyson muttered nervously. "And goat fur makes my nose itchy."
And that pretty much ended our Grover conversation.
∘☽༓☾∘
Before dinner, Tyson and I went down to the sword arena. Quintus was glad to have company. He still wouldn't tell me what was in the wooden crates, but he did teach me a few sword moves. The guy was good. He fought the way some people play chess—like he was putting all the moves together and you couldn't see the pattern until he made the last stroke and won with a sword at your throat.
"Good try," he told me. "But your guard is too low."
He lunged and I blocked.
"Have you always been a swordsman?" I asked.
He parried my overhead cut. "I've been many things."
He jabbed and I sidestepped. His shoulder strap slipped down, and I saw that mark on his neck—the purple blotch. But it wasn't a random mark. It had a definite shape—a bird with folded wings, like a quail or something.
"What's that on your neck?" I asked, before hearing Luke's voice in my head reminding me that saying things like that was probably rude.
Quintus lost his rhythm. I hit his sword hilt and knocked the blade out of his hand.
He rubbed his fingers. Then he shifted his armour to hide the mark. It wasn't a tattoo, I realized. It was an old burn...like he'd been branded.
"A reminder." He picked up his sword and forced a smile. "Now, shall we go again?"
He pressed me hard, not giving me time for any more questions.
While he and I fought, Tyson played with Mrs. O'Leary, who he called the "little doggie." They had a great time wrestling for the bronze shield and playing Get the Greek which I was insanely jealous of. By sunset, Quintus hadn't even broken a sweat, which seemed kind of strange; but Tyson and I were hot and sticky, so we hit the showers and got ready for dinner.
I was feeling good. It was almost like a normal day at camp. Then dinner came, and all the campers lined up by cabin and marched into the dining pavilion. Most of them ignored the sealed fissure in the marble floor at the entrance—a ten-foot-long jagged scar that hadn't been there last summer— but I was careful to step over it.
"Big crack," Tyson said when we were at our table. "Earthquake, maybe?"
"No," I said. "Not an earthquake."
I wasn't sure I should tell him. It was a secret only Luke and I knew. But looking in Tyson's big eye, I knew I couldn't hide it from him.
"Nico di Angelo," I said, lowering my voice. "He's this half-blood kid we brought to camp last winter. He asked Luke to guard his sister. She died. Now he blames Luke and me by extension for getting kidnapped."
Tyson frowned. "So he put a crack in the floor?"
"These skeletons attacked us," I said. "Nico told them to go away, and the ground just opened up and swallowed them. Nico..." I looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Nico is a son of Hades."
Tyson nodded thoughtfully. "The nice uncle?"
"Yeah that one."
"So the Nico boy is gone now?"
"I—I guess. I tried to search for him this spring. So did Luke. But we didn't have any luck. This is secret, Tyson. Okay? If anyone found out he was a son of Hades, he would be in danger. You can't even tell Chiron."
"The bad prophecy," Tyson said. "Titans might use him if they knew."
I stared at him. Sometimes it was easy to forget that as big and childlike as he was, Tyson was pretty smart. Most people assumed the bad prophecy meant me, but if I died before I turned twenty one, the prophecy could just as easily apply to Nico.
"Exactly," I said. "So—"
"Mouth sealed," Tyson promised, before grinning. "Like the crack in the ground."
∘☽༓☾∘
I had trouble falling asleep that night. I lay in bed listening to the waves on the beach, and the owls and monsters in the woods. I was afraid once I drifted off I'd have nightmares. Camp always made the nightmares worse.
So I was still awake around midnight, staring at the bunk bed mattress above me, when I realized there was a strange light in the room. The saltwater fountain was glowing.
I threw off the covers and walked cautiously toward it. Steam rose from the hot salt water. Rainbow colours shimmered through it, though there was no light in the room except for the moon outside. I looked over at Tyson, but he was still snoring. He sleeps about as heavily as a tranquilized elephant.
I didn't know what to think. I'd never gotten a collect Iris-message before. One golden drachma gleamed at the bottom of the fountain. I scooped it up and tossed it through the mist. The coin vanished.
"O, Iris, Goddess of the rainbow," I whispered. "Show me...Uh, whatever you need to show me."
The mist shimmered. I saw the dark shore of a river. Wisps of fog drifted across black water. The beach was strewn with jagged volcanic rock. A young boy squatted at the riverbank, tending a campfire. The flames burned an unnatural blue colour. Then I saw the boy's face. It was Nico di Angelo. He was throwing pieces of paper into the fire— Mythomagic trading cards.
Nico was only ten, or maybe eleven by now, but he looked older. His hair had grown longer. It was shaggy and almost touched his shoulders. His eyes were dark. His olive skin had turned paler. He wore ripped black jeans and a battered aviator's jacket that was several sizes too big, unzipped over a black shirt. His face was grimy, his eyes a little wild. He looked like a kid who'd been living on the streets.
I waited for him to look at me. No doubt he'd get crazy angry, start accusing me of letting his sister die.
But he didn't seem to notice me.
I stayed quiet, not daring to move. If he hadn't sent this Iris-message, who had?
Nico tossed another trading card into the blue flames. "Useless," he muttered. "I can't believe I ever liked this stuff."
"A childish game, master," another voice agreed. It seemed to come from near the fire, but I couldn't see who was talking. But it didn't sound good.
Nico stared across the river. On the far shore was black beach shrouded in haze. I recognized it: the Underworld. Nico was camping at the edge of the river Styx.
"I've failed," he muttered. "There's no way to get her back."
The other voice kept silent.
Nico turned toward it doubtfully. "Is there? Speak."
Something shimmered. I thought it was just firelight. Then I realized it was the form of a man—a wisp of blue smoke, a shadow. If you looked at him head-on, he wasn't there. But if you looked out of the corner of your eye, you could make out his shape. A ghost.
"It has never been done," the ghost said. "But there may be a way."
"Tell me," Nico commanded. His eyes shined with a fierce light.
"An exchange," the ghost said. "A soul for a soul."
"I've offered!"
"Not yours," the ghost said. "You cannot offer your father a soul he will eventually collect anyway. Nor will he be anxious for the death of his son. I mean a soul that should have died already. Someone who has cheated death."
Nico's face darkened. "Not that again. You're talking about murder."
"I'm talking about justice," the ghost said. "Vengeance."
"Those are not the same thing."
The ghost laughed dryly. "You will learn differently as you get older."
Nico stared at the flames. "Why can't I at least summon her? I want to talk to her. She would...she would help me."
"I will help you," the ghost promised. I had a feeling that he would not. "Have I not saved you many times? Did I not lead you through the maze and teach you to use your powers? Do you want revenge for your sister or not?"
Nico turned from the fire so the ghost couldn't see him, but I could. A tear traced its way down his face.
"Very well. You have a plan?"
"Oh, yes," the ghost said, sounding quite pleased. "We have many dark roads to travel. We must start—"
The image shimmered. Nico vanished. The woman's voice from the mist said, Please deposit one drachma for another five minutes.
There were no other coins in the fountain. I grabbed for my pockets, but I was wearing pyjamas. I lunged for the nightstand to check for spare change, but the Iris-message had already blinked out, and the room went dark again. The connection was broken.
I stood in the middle of the cabin, listening to the gurgle of the saltwater fountain and the ocean waves outside. Nico was alive. He was trying to bring his sister back from the dead. And I had a feeling I knew what soul he wanted to exchange—someone who had cheated death. Vengeance.
Why I was being told this was clear. I had gained custody of a child.
∘☽༓☾∘
Hiya,
Nico and Annabeth are Andi's children, I don't make the rules, and she's back to trying to cuddle large dogs in typical Andi fashion. Her and Luke are very sweet and Luke's relationship with his siblings brings me joy (as does Andi and Tyson's relationship).
Let me know what you think,
Love Li xx