Chapter 17: Sympathy For the Devil

We followed Zoe Nightshade and the other demigods plus satyr into the Smithsonian. We narrowly slipped through security. Annabeth took our weapons and rucksacks and handed us some cash before putting on her cap. We strolled through the metal detectors with no trouble, though the hardest part was following my sister and her friends at a safe, yet close distance. Needless to say, it's not as easy as it sounds. Especially since we have to be under two Hunters of Artemis' radars, which is almost impossible to sneak past due to their incredibly acute senses. But we managed.

I stared amazed at the various historic artifacts on display. Astronaut suits, helmets, weapons, and tons of miscellaneous stuff lined the shelves in each exhibit. I thought the humongous, detailed elephant situated at the entrance was amusing too. Planes of all shapes and sizes, from large to small, and sleek to bulk hung from the rafters. I imagined them all zipping above me at break-mach speed. I sensed a couple of dinosaur bones upstairs. Somewhere off to my left and at least a couple of floors up, a huge diamond was being displayed.

Seeing all of these relics from the past made me realize just how much time I've missed out on. It's hard to swallow the fact that I lived nearly 70 years ago while World War II was happening. That I was alive, well, happy, and oblivious of all the tyranny and death festering around me. From what I could tell from the vision I had, I lived in my own little world; obscured and sheltered from the destruction and sacrifice of war.

What was it like living in that time? What was it like for my family? How were we brought to America? What kind of life did I live in Italy? All of these questions zipped by faster than the planes above ever could. Without thinking, I stopped in my tracks.

I surveyed the hundreds of planes hanging from the ceiling, the thousands of artifacts from World War II, and the millions of descriptions of each and every invasion there ever was. Confined inside these walls, encased in these glass displays, and penned in the ink on these pages are the small windows to the world I have long since disregarded. This is my history. This is the cruel world I was forced to forget. The ever-changing world I was forced to abandon.

But this certainly isn't all of it. According to Camp Half Blood's history books, the mortals were severely misinformed. There was no war of the Axis Powers against the Allies, there was only a war of Hades against Zeus and Posiedon. Or more accurately, their children inescapably fighting against each other. A part of me is glad that I was too young to fight in their war. Or better yet—too naive. It makes me wonder why I wasn't forced to fight anyway. After all, there is a disturbing amount of young children residing in Camp Half Blood, and even Camp Jupiter enlisted kids as young as 7 into the Legion. Another strand of mystery woven into the web of my life, I suppose.

"Nico? We need to get moving or we're gonna miss them," Percy said hurriedly. I off-handidly noticed Annabeth's cap in his pocket. The Son of Posiedon stopped for a moment, "What are you doing?"

"Just… thinking."

"Thinking about…?"

I peeled my eyes away from the wretched scenery, "We should get going or we're gonna lose Bianca, Thalia, Grover, and Zoe."

The son of the sea god cocked his head ever so slightly, and I was amazed to find that I didn't think much of it. What, only days before would've made me fight the need to blush, now made me nothing short of annoyed and a bit content too. I took this as a sign. I'm glad I'm not feeling what I once felt for the Son of Posiedon. I found myself feeling happy for Annabeth and Percy. The rush of relief almost made me smile.

"You sure you don't want to talk about it? I mean, Annabeth is probably the best person to talk to. But still. You sure?"

"I'm sure," I replied. Without another word, I navigated through the crowd to find Annabeth. This time, I didn't look back to see if Percy followed.

I found Annabeth lurking in the shadows, just around the corner, waiting and watching "the five."

"Hey, Annie," I greeted.

"Don't call me Annie," she said, her grey eyes still fixed on the targets.

"Why not?" I asked with feigned curiosity. Of course, I knew why. She simply doesn't like to be called "Annie." The last time someone called her Annie, Leo Valdez was judo-flipped and threatened with severe bodily harm in 5 seconds flat. But I'm not Leo Valdez. I'm eager to see how far I can go before I too get judo-flipped.

She turned to me and glared. I held my ground and refused to shrink, "Do you really want to find out?"

"Well, I mean, yeah. That's why I asked," I replied with a shrug. I'm not trying to be a smart-alec, I'm just genuinely curious. Though she probably doesn't see it that way. Actions and body language tend to speak more than words, and right now, my body language is screaming I want to be nuked.

Annabeth studied me with her cold, calculating eyes. They softened, if only for a fraction of a second. The calm before the storm, I thought. I braced myself for a judo-flipping, or perhaps a punch in the face. Maybe even a sweep in the legs. Who knows? I don't know 14 year old Annabeth's style. Instead, with a guarded expression she confessed, "That's what my dad used to call me," The way she said "dad" insinuated a pretty rocky relationship between them. I can relate. The Daughter of Athena followed the four heroes moving along to the next exhibit. I sensed the conversation wasn't quite finished.

"My father almost incinerated me once when I was trying to convince him to help the demigods during the Second Titanomachy. I told him he needed to swallow his anger and be better than what his family expected him to be. I told him my mother would've felt the same way. Needless to say, I should've held my tongue. Not long after, he allowed my wonderful stepmom to turn me into a dandelion when we had a really bad fight about whether or not I should see my mother," I confessed as I joined Annabeth in another hiding place.

"Really?" She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. She scuffed, "I'm not that surprised. I've met your dad before. Not a nice guy, but cute dog though. What I'm really surprised about is the fact that you two spent enough time together to get into any major fights."

"I wouldn't say we've spent a lot of time together, more like him staring down at me from his throne like I'm the biggest disappointment in his entire existence," I grimaced, "But sure. I have seen my father more often than most demigods. He's not the best dad, though he treats me decently. It's more than I can ask for, especially from the Devil himself."

Annabeth frowned, "How so?"

"He gave me a home when I became an outcast to my own kind. He allowed me to roam the Underworld freely, save for the deepest parts down under. He even gave me a zombie chauffeur for my birthday," I recalled fondly, "He… he turned a blind eye when I resurrected the sister I never knew existed. He had the decency to warn me that I would probably die before completing my mission of returning the Athena Parthenos, and even offered me a place to stay if I actually did die."

"He sounds better than most. But I don't understand. Why is he so cruel to everyone else?" Annabeth asked me, "He isn't exactly helping his image, even if it isn't all true."

"Let me ask you this: If a bunch of demigods decided to waltz into your domain uninvited, demand you bring their loved ones back to life and threaten the fragile balance of life and death for a millennium, how would you feel about it? Especially if you quite literally got the short end of the stick and were forced into an oath only you didn't break? What about if you had to listen to the harvest goddess rant about cereal each and every winter and fall, on top how she isn't happy her daughter is married to you for thousands of years? How would you feel if you constantly had to keep expanding and cutting down on spending all because stupid mortals haven't learned how to work out their problems without the expense of others? And the constant workload? The pestering about raises? The traitorous ghosts trying to overthrow you? Just being hated by your family in general?"

"I… I wouldn't feel so great about that," Annabeth admitted. She had the decency to look slightly ashamed. Seeing the doubt and hesitation on Annabeth's face unnerved me a little. It wasn't at all like the confident, calculating look I remember her wearing, though the intelligent glint in her eyes never left. The odd expression served as a subtle reminder that she's still pretty young, and hasn't yet gone through the hardships that made her who I once knew. If I'm careful, she'll never have to.

"Dad doesn't feel so great about it either. The Rolling Stones knew what they were talking about when they wrote that song, Sympathy For the Devil. They all got into Elysium just for that song alone."

"Seriously? The Lord of the Dead is in to that kind of music?" The daughter of Wisdom asked. She was trying hard to stifle a laugh.

"Seriously. Dad typically rewards good music and The Rolling Stones earned bonus points for the lyrics. I was having a hard time believing it myself when I first found out. One of the neighbors in Elysium told me," I said truthfully. The whole experience in itself was quite surreal. A local spirit who lived by the deceased band members was bragging about living next to "the greatest rock and roll band of all time." I personally checked up on that claim with Thanatos, and there were Ian Stewart and Brian Jones listed on the screen of the sleek, black iPad. The guy certainly wasn't lying.

Annabeth smiled thinly and was quiet for a moment. Finally she said, "You can call me Annie if you want," She looked down at me, which I found embarrassing as I am now excruciatingly short, "With you, I don't mind."

My lips quirked up in a ghost of a smile, "Then you now have my permission to call me Neeks," I replied.

"I'll hold you to that."

"I know you will," I answered, "...Hey, Annie?"

"Yeah, Neeks?"

"I know it's not any of my business, but I really do believe you should make amends with your dad. Nothing lasts forever, not even the Gods. Regret is the exception to that. Grudges will only get you so far. Trust me, I know."

Annabeth looked away, "He's not going to listen to me. He's not going to change. He's more than content with his perfect little family and his perfect little wife. I'm not apart of that."

"Somehow I doubt that. Just… try. It never hurts to try," I advised, "Don't be afraid to forgive. Or you will find yourself regretting it for the rest of your existence. Just keep that in mind, okay?" I found myself once again twisting my finger. I really need to find a ring.

Annabeth stared at me intently, searching for what, I could only imagine. She nodded and fidgeted with what looked to be a college ring strung in her Camp Half Blood necklace. I have an inkling feeling there's more to that ring than meets the eye, "Thanks."

"No problem," I replied. Then the memory of the prophecy flashed by. My eyes widened, "Hey there's something I need to tell you about—"

I didn't get to finish. At that moment, Percy came sprinting down the crowded corridor looking out of breath and very pale. The missing chunk of his shirt sleeve didn't escape me, "We have a problem," he announced.

"What kind of problem?" Annabeth interrogated.

A roar on the other side of the museum answered the question for the Son of Posiedon, "The really bad kind... and there's more."

"Let me guess. Does it have to do with the fact that you're missing a huge chunk of your sleeve, Kelp Head?" I asked.

"No time to explain! We need to run! We need to warn them!" Percy took the liberty of snatching our wrists and practically dragging us down the hall at break-neck speed.

"Seaweed Brain, what's going on?" Annabeth exclaimed as we rounded the corner where Bianca and friends are, "What are we running from?"

"Luke and some general dude just planted a bunch of dinosaur teeth with blood, and a horde of skeleton warriors just grew! First they grew a super adorable kitten, but that's not the point. One of them ripped off a chunk of my shirt and now they have my scent! Which means, more stalker friends! We don't need anymore stalker friends!" The Savior of Olympus exclaimed.

"Luke's here?!" Annabeth and I shouted simultaneously. It vaguely reminded me of a huge revealing of the criminal behind the crime, the twist in the plot, the traitor among the friends.

"Oh, yeah. He's not the only—" Percy was interrupted by the ultimate run-in with the four from the quest. When I say "run-in," I mean we quite literally ran into our friends. Percy was catapulted at Grover, Annabeth took a nose-dive at Thalia, and I slammed head-first into Bianca.

"Nico?! What are you doing here?!" My dear sister screamed in alarm. I landed on top of her with a jolt.

I groaned and rolled off of her, rubbing my forehead, "We really need to stop meeting like this."

Another blood-curling roar sounded not too far from us. This time with the intensity of thunder. My body shook as the sound resonated through me. Percy pointed behind us in the direction of the roar as he stood up, "That's the other problem."

"What are thou three doing here?" Zoe demanded. She glared at us like we just killed her puppy as she helped Bianca back up, "Thou was not chosen for the quest."

"Yeah, I hate to say it—I really do—but I'm with Zoe on this one," Thalia grimaced as she held out her hand for Annabeth to take, "Why are you here?"

"The quest called for five demigods and Hunters, not seven!" Grover practically squeaked, "This is bad, this is really bad."

"So, are we just going to ignore the roar back there?" I gestured behind me, "Or should we do something about that?" I asked the group, but no one heard me. Everyone screamed and argued about this and that, completely ignoring the heavy footsteps that were sounding just beyond the now empty room. Yeah… that's gonna be a problem. I glanced back and forth between the demigods and hunters like a ping pong match. Neither group showed signs of stopping.

"Why are thou here?!"

"We need to be on this quest!"

"The quest did not ask for thou!"

"It's important! We need to prevent—"

"'It's important?' Why would saving Artemis be important to thou? Thou aren't even a Hunter!"

The thumping of something massive grew increasingly louder.

"Everyone needs to stop fighting. If we can just work this out—"

"Who do you think you are? Why did you take my little brother with you? He was finally safe!"

"Nico's right. We need to work—"

A low growl echoed just outside in the hall.

"Because he asked to come! We didn't take him. He volunteered!"

"LIAR!"

"DON'T TALK TO HIM THAT WAY!"

"STAY OUT OF THIS!"

"Guys. Please stop fighting," Grover pleaded but to no avail.

"Bianca, we aren't lying!"

"Do you really think I'm buying that ex—"

"EVERYBODY NEEDS TO SHUT THEIR MOUTH AND LISTEN!" I roared. My voice carried through the thin walls and the sound of silence accompanied it. Six pairs of wide eyes stared at me in shock. They looked surprised that such a small body could possess such a loud voice. I scoffed. They have no idea. I took a deep breath to temper my rage. I gave my famous death glare and everyone flinched.

"In case you haven't noticed, we're about to have company," I announced in a dangerously low voice, "So drop your meaningless arguments and get your head in the game. I am not about to be a goner all because six moronic simpletons are incapable of such a simple task that a baboon can handle. Cut the crap and take out your weapons," I unsheathed my dagger, spun it around my fingers expertly, and narrowed my eyes at the entrance, "Our surprise guest has arrived."

As if heeding my call, the Nemean Lion charged into the exhibit. It's golden fur glinted like armor in the harsh lighting. A murderous intent shone in its eyes. The feline released a mighty roar, a war cry for chaos that will ensue.

Well, I thought. Guess I better start skinning the cat.