Chapter One

The life of a demigod was never easy, but it was much harder when you accepted a cell phone call from your mother.

Percy's mother, Sally, was honeymooning with her new husband. For the first time, Percy had the apartment to himself - not that he wasn't used to being on his own. He had a great mother, but demigod life was dangerous and his summer's were spent at Camp Half-Blood. Even during the school year he was usually out fighting monsters, normally after blowing up his new school because a few classmates and teachers were monsters in disguise or they took a field trip to an aquarium. Luckily, Percy had graduated and didn't need to worry about schools. Blood-thirsty teenagers... Well, weren't all teenagers that way?

Nevertheless, things had been calm for him since him and his friends won the war against Gaia. Monsters rarely attacked, but it didn't matter when cell phones were notorious for sending out a beckoning to every one nearby. Sure, he loved hearing from his mother, hearing how happy she was and that plenty of money had been left for food and rent, but he had not been in the mood to see a harpy fly off with his phone.

Down a park, leaping over picnic's and dodging remote-controlled airplanes, he chased the wretched bird, jumping and waving Riptide (his sword) at its legs, but off it went, higher and higher, not interested in devouring the demigod. At least not right then... Perhaps it thought it got a piece of him...

"Bad day, Percy?"

Nico di Angelo appeared out from the shadow of a tree. For a moment it looked like he was made out of the shadows, it clinging to his legs like a spider web until it snapped free. It didn't change the sheer aura of Nico who was made from darkness and death.

He had grown taller since Percy had last seen him, although he was still a couple of inches shorter than him. His black hair was curly around his sickly pale skin, but his black eyes had more of a playful glint in them. His skeleton fingers caressed his Stygian sword at his side. It would have been menacing to anyone else, but Percy had seen Nico as a child and he had seen what he had become. The veil had dropped for a moment in time in midst of bloodshed and destruction, and he wasn't sure that he could see him the same way again.

The last time they were together they had been saving the world (again). Nico was as pale and thin as the skeletons he could produce from the earth, his visage gaunt and horrifying, as serious as broken glass and volcanoes, and his only concern was for the few family he had, for the allegiances he tenuously made. He saved Annabeth's life almost losing his own, a scene that Percy only wanted to forget, but he dreamt of every night. He never saw Nico the same way again.

"Yeah, a bit of a bad day," he grunted.

Nico peered after the bird minimizing in size, his eyes squinting in the bright and cool day. Percy wondered how long he had been on the surface or had he been in the Underworld the entire time.

"I'm not Jason," Nico said, "but we can try to catch up to it."

"Shadow travel," Percy guessed, tasting the sickness on his tongue. Last time he had gone he thought he was going to throw up.

"No better way to travel." Nico didn't crack a smile. No matter how light his spirits had become after the war, his smiles were so rare Percy hadn't seen it since their very first meeting. Back then Nico hadn't known whose child he was, what he was capable of. He had been innocent and talkative, and that ended when his sister died, when he learned his dad was lord of the Underworld.

Yet, there weren't many people Percy trusted more. He held out his hand.

Despite that he had offered to take him, Nico was apparently hesitant to touch him. There was a disgusted look on his face, but he grabbed him fast, his pallid and thin fingers curling around his wrist. Percy couldn't question the odd behavior (which was practically normal for Nico), his body lurched forward into darkness. All that connected him to anything real was Nico's hand which suddenly tightened, bruising him. Percy never realized how strong he was.

The darkness disappeared, like someone had turned on a light to the world. The sun was blinding, and Percy cinched his eyes shut, his feet losing purchase on the ground, his stomach lurching up into his throat the way it only could do with the recognition that they were falling. Forcing open his eyes, he saw the ocean's lapping waves reaching for them. Percy let out a sigh of relief when they hit the water.

A cool ability that the son of Poseidon had was that he could lend the ability to breathe underwater to others, as long as they were touching him, but Nico was thrashing, kicking, having what looked to be a panic attack. They were connected by the tips of their fingers.

"I've got you," Percy said, his voice lost to the younger boy who was furiously trying to swim to the surface. He was failing.

A wave pushed them back against the siding of a cliff, and Nico's hand slipped from his. He was sinking lower, his energy and oxygen fading, all the while the waves were separating them, dragging them out of each other's reach.

Percy found questionable footing on the slick rocks and kicked off, grabbing Nico by the crook of his arm, the act throwing him against his chest. With great effort to keep a hold of the wild boy he formed an air bubble around them. Only, when he was done, Nico was no longer moving, he was slumped forward like a rag doll, his head lolling to the side.

"Nico," he gasped, holding his head up, he pressed his fingers under his nose. He wasn't breathing.

Concentrating, he swirled the waters under their feet, bending the ocean to his will. He stared up, narrowing his vision past the rays of the sun. Without wasting anymore time, he had the waters shoot their bubble toward the sky, over the edge of the cliff.

They landed hard, but he didn't let go of Nico.