There was something different about that spirit.
The girl in the Fields of Asphodel was different from other spirits, somehow. Most wandering ghosts had the same blank, lost look on their faces, wandering through the Fields for eternity. An eternity of nothing- no joy, no sadness, no peace, no torture either: just going round and round aimlessly in circles in the Fields- forever.
The ghosts didn't freak NIco out, though. They were, after all, the only people he talked to most of the time- the dead. He wasn't born to socialise with other demigods, or half-bloods, or whatever you wanted to call them - Children of a Greek god or goddess and a mortal- yes, they existed, they were real. And Nico di Angelo was one of them - that was a fact, the cold hard truth he had to face. After his sister Bianca died, he was the only child of Hades left.
Yeah, Hades. One of the Big Three. The Greek god of the Underworld. Nico could travel in shadows, control the dead, go in and out of the Underworld as and when he pleased. Yeah, he was a freak. He didn't blame the other demigods for avoiding him.
Nico had been pacing down the Fields of Asphodel. HIs father's castle looked as though it was barely a twenty-minute walk to the large, black, wrought- iron gates. He could hear the screams of torture from the Fields of Punishment, see the beautiful Isles of Blest somewhere in the distance, bright and shining, radiating with warmth and joy. The great heroes went there. And rest in peace, they did.
Then he saw her. The female... ghost? Could she possibly be one? She was probably around thirteen or fourteen, a bit older than him, her curly hair the colour of cinnamon toast, her tan skin the colour of chocolate.
And her eyes.
Her amber eyes, large and anxious. Alert and darting all over the place. They were oddly bright, like fourteen-carat gold. Nico studied her, wondering why he felt a small tingle when he locked eyes with her. This girl had a story to tell. A very interesting one.
And then he knew.
He walked over, adjusting the large black overcoat he was wearing. His Stygian iron hung from the chain at his side. He stood over her, and she turned to look at him. She wasn't scared. Instead, she took in his pale face, skinny frame, dark hair. His scrawniness, sloppiness, his dark eyes, his entirely black outfit. The skull designs on his shirt and silver ring. His aviator jacket.
She was clearly unimpressed, but curious too. But Nico spoke first.
"You're different. A child of Pluto. You remember your past."
The girl tilted her head, nodding slightly.
"Yes. And you're alive."
Nico paused. Should he or should he not?
"I'm Nico di Angelo. I came looking for my sister. Death has gone missing, so I thought... I thought I could bring her back and no one would notice."
But Bianca was already gone.
"Back to life? Is that possible?"
Yes, yes it was. Nico sighed. He would have given anything to be able to bring Bianca back. But this girl... this girl was his sister, too.
"It should have been. But she's gone. She chose to be reborn into a new life. I'm too late."
"I'm sorry."
This girl had been wronged. Nico held out his hand.
"You're my sister too. You deserve another chance. Come with me."
And his sister reached out and took his hand...