NICO

"Did you pack at least two bags of ambrosia?"

"Yes." I took off my backpack and flourished my Ziplock bags of ambrosia to my half-sister. We stood at the base of Half-Blood Hill, prolonging our goodbye with an unnecessary check-over.

"Drachmas in case you need to Iris-message for help?" Hazel badgered.

"Of course."

"Do you have an extra pair of shoes?"

"I don't need another pair."

Hazel pointed at my feet, which were comfortably enclosed in my favourite ratty, black sneakers. "You've been wearing those shoes everyday for the past two years!"

"Well, yeah." I inspected the soles. Remarkably, they were untarnished. "Look. They don't have holes in them yet."

Hazel sighed. "Fine then. How about a pillow? Or even better... A pillow pet?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Percy speaks very highly of pillow pets," Hazel countered defensively, "He says that when you're on the road, pillow pets are like the greatest gifts to mankind-"

Resisting the urge to groan, I interrupted her mid-sentence. "Honestly Hazel, I'm going to be fine. Since when did you become so concerned about me travelling by myself?"

Hazel gazed at the black skull ring on my right hand. A year ago, I had managed to find an Underworld blade expert to magically alter my Stygian iron sword so that it could transform into something small and portable. I remembered meeting Hazel for the first time and her initial skepticism of my abilities. After summoning a few ghosts, that quickly changed.

"I guess it's pretty silly of me to worried about you of all people," Hazel said with a sheepish smile, "Especially after everything we've - you've - been through."

Our eyes met and instantly, memories of the Giant War came flooding back to me. Dragging myself out of Tartarus. Clinging on to the last shreds of my life force while trapped in an oxygen-deprived bronze jar. Shadow-travelling across the Atlantic until I collapsed in exhaustion. Simply remembering all of the hardships, battles and sacrifices was an awful experience in itself, even after more than three years.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder. "I have to go."

Before I could turn to walk away, Hazel grabbed my wrist. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? I mean, we're both children of the Underworld so this affects me too."

"Annabeth needs your help with the village," I told her. It was not the main reason why I did not want Hazel to accompany me but nevertheless, it was true. Hazel was at Camp Half-Blood in the first place to assist in the construction of a New Rome-esque community for Greek demigods. With Hazel's geokinetic powers, building a village would be much quicker.

"Besides, a train ride to L.A. should be a cakewalk compared to everything else we've experienced. I've traveled much longer distances without too much trouble."

"That's because you shadow-traveled," Hazel reminded.

Okay, she had a point. A really good point. Usually I could slip in and out of shadows like they were open doors, but nowadays they remained solid. It seemed that for some unfathomable reason, the shadows were blocked. I learned that the hard way several days ago when Mrs. O'Leary and I had unintentionally slammed into a tree, promptly splitting it in half. Instead of showing up in New Rome, we had found ourselves receiving a rambling lecture from a furious dryad.

And that was not all. Not only was the shadow-travel network inaccessible, it seemed that the whole Underworld was closed. A few days ago I had attempted to enter the Underworld via the Door of Orpheus but it would not open. These days, no matter how many times I tried, I could not summon a single ghost, a task that used to be as easy as jumping. A couple of nights ago, I had gone to my last resort and had tried to Iris-message my father. No connection could be made. Hazel and I had tried to contact all of our ghost friends, any Underworld god who didn't hate either of us, and many others. We had even attempted to Iris-message the Kindly Ones, who I usually avoided at all costs because they tended to lovingly smother the crap out of me. Still - nothing. Nada. We were completely cut-off for no apparent reason.

"For all we know, the Underworld could be in deep trouble," Hazel said quietly, "Who knows what's waiting for you at Charon's in Los Angeles."

I placed my hands on Hazel's shoulders reassuringly. "Hazel, listen to me. I'm over eighty years old, been through hell and back, and suffered way more emotional trauma than the average angsty teenager. I'm going to be alright. If not, I'll contact you ASAP."

I gave my sister a hug and walked down to the road. For the last time, I looked back at Camp Half-Blood. Hazel was still standing on Half-Blood Hill, watching me leave.

"Tell Annabeth to build a house for me," I shouted to Hazel, "Maybe after this voyage, I might retire from monster fighting and settle down in the village. Or New Rome, if the whole multi-generation, family-oriented, Greek-demigod community doesn't work out."

Hazel laughed. "You practically have a whole cabin to yourself. You don't need a place in the village."

"But I've seen Annabeth's blueprints. I don't know about you but I wouldn't mind living the rest of my life in a mini Santorini by the Long Island Sound."

Hazel shook her head, smiling good-humouredly. "Goodbye Nico."

After one last wave, I turned to the road. I fished my pocket for a drachma and took a deep breath.

"Anakoche! Harma epitribeios!"

I tossed the drachma into the pavement and watched it disappear into the asphalt. A moment passed and then a peculiar, smoky grey taxi rose in front of me. I immediately opened the back door and entered the cab.

"Passage?! Passage?!" screeched an old woman from the front of the car.

"One to Penn Station, New York, New York," I replied as I wrapped my waist with a large black chain, the Gray Sisters' version of a seatbelt. I'd ridden with the Gray Sisters once before (long story) so I understood the importance of buckling up. I braced myself for the upcoming burst of acceleration. With a head-slamming lurch, the taxi zoomed away to New York City.

"So..." I began as nonchalantly as one could in a vehicle going beyond roller-coaster speeds, "Do you ladies happen to know why the Underworld is closed?"

"Yes!" All three of them yelled.

"Anger! Give me the eye!" the driver shrieked.

"You have the tooth!" the third woman retorted.

"Wasp!" the middle one shrilled, "Give me the tooth! I want to bite the boy's coin!"

"Tempest, you bit it last time!"

"Um, care to elaborate on why the Underworld's closed?" I asked. I specifically chose this method of transportation in hopes of gathering more information regarding my personal quest. Honestly, I wouldn't risk injuring my neck from whiplash without getting a little something out of it.

"Can't tell!" Anger replied, "Make a left!"

"You have to find out for yourself," Tempest added, "It's all part of the road trip."

"Road trip?" I repeated, "But I'm riding the train."

Tempest's sisters each gave her a good smack to her sides, screaming, "Be quiet! Be quiet!"

"He's not supposed to know!" Wasp screeched.

"Know what?" I inquired.

Unfortunately for me, the Grey Sisters were too busy straight-up catfighting to give me an answer. Tempest blindly clawed at both of her sisters, who wildly yanked her stringy grey hair and slapped her repeatedly. Every time Tempest managed to scratch Wasp, the cab swerved and skidded.

"You always reveal too much information!" Anger wailed.

"We always almost lose our eye because of you!" Wasp accused.

"Remember old Perseus? Turn!"

Wasp spun the steering wheel to the right. "Remember new Perseus?"

"Never forget!"

"How exactly am I supposed to 'find out for myself'?" I hollered.

"How do you usually do it?" Anger asked before she bit Tempest.

I hesitated. "I talk to ghosts."

"There you have it!" said Wasp.

"But I can't summon ghosts these days!" I exclaimed, "Now if you'd just tell me why..."

"Can't!" said Anger.

"Find ghosts!" explained Tempest, "Hunt them if necessary!"

"TEMPEST!"

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" I demanded.

"Trust all instincts!"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

"We're here!" Wasp announced. She floored the brake and I nearly flew out of my seat. Surely enough, we were parked right outside Penn Station.

"Now leave!" screeched Anger. The back door opened by itself and my backpack was magically kicked out of the car. "Before our idiot sister opens her mouth again."

A/N:

Please review! I'd love to hear some feedback.

Anybody here a fan of the TV show Supernatural? This story also incorporates many elements from Supernatural, though not enough to be considered a proper crossover. Just a hint...

Also, if any of you know any creepy ghost stories or folklore, please tell me in the reviews!