Chapter 31: Little White Lies
"So it's true then? Our uncle murdered our mother and hundreds of innocent people in attempts to kill us?" Bianca asked, her dark knowing eyes distant as she traced the rim of her now cold cocoa absentmindedly. "All because he wanted his children to fulfill the Great Prophecy, just to bring him glory?"
"Along with our father erasing our memories, leaving us in a magical hotel for 70 years, and ultimately releasing us in hopes one of us would one day fulfill the prophecy instead? Yeah, it is." My voice sounded hollow, even to me.
Silence. It seized our words and lodged them back down our dry throats, twisting us up inside and leaving us to the unpleasant company of our own desecrated thoughts. At least, that's how I felt. My mind has always been a place of horrors, but it was my mind alone, and I appreciated the fact that no one could penetrate it.
Now, ever since the dance of souls, ever since this conversation, ever since time traveling in general, all of that's changed. It's… Frightening, knowing people can see the real me. My choices, my memories, and my entire being—my sister and my friends have seen all of it, or at the very least, the vast majority of it. I find the very idea of them surfacing my secrets unsettling, though the sudden transparency of my weaknesses and my pressure points, paired with the fact at any given moment they could exploit them, unsettled me more. No, it terrified me. Was it because of the suspicious voice inside of me repeating the same mantra of don't let them hurt you again over and over, or was it just my paranoia in general?
I scoffed internally. Does it matter? It doesn't change the fact that I'm going against all of my core principles by doing this. By telling my sister everything. No. Bianca wouldn't hurt me, she wouldn't. Telling her all of this? It's a good thing. She needed to know. Her ignorance was only going to get her so far.
"Everything's changing, isn't it?" Bianca said suddenly. She didn't say the question she really had on her mind—she didn't have to. I caught the listlessness of her gaze, the dimness of her once luminescent silvery glow, and the somber energy that seemingly expelled from inside her.
I probably wasn't much better.
I answered the silent question. "For better or worse… I guess that just depends."
She looked up, fixing her gaze right on me. There was a weight that hadn't been there before. A certain burden in her eyes that, until now, only came from a lifetime of pain. "What is he like? Our father, I mean."
"He's…" For a moment, I searched for the right words to describe a being so complex as our father. "Bitter. Annoyed. Complicated. But he cares about us in his own way."
"Is he… Is he evil?"
"No. Just misunderstood." I didn't feel like elaborating.
Bianca took a long sip of her cocoa. "I get that, but, in the vision of… of mom's death, I just…" Her eyebrows furrowed, and the expression strangely reminded me of Annabeth. "Nico, that bitterness Dad feels, it just doesn't add up. There's more to the story than what we're seeing. I mean, I understand that our uncle decimated all of our siblings to ensure his children would fulfill the Great Prophecy, and yes, that's terrible, but the way Dad was talking to Mom in the vision. He was so desperate. He was willing to build her a palace of gold in the Underworld if it meant she would be safe. I don't think Dad's bitterness centers around the fact that we now have a lesser chance of fulfilling the prophecy." Her voice descended into a whisper. "I think it's about the death of our mom."
My eyes stung, but I couldn't understand why. It was as if something deep inside of me awakened, some part of me that knew my mother was more than a blurry face. "I think you're right." I admitted thickly. A single tear slid down my cheek before I quickly wiped it away. There's no use crying over a ghost of the past. Not one I can hardly remember, anyway.
"Do you remember her? Even a little bit?"
The desperation in her voice was heartbreaking.
"Sometimes." I stared at the fire in deep thought. "Everything's so blurry when I try to think of her," I said. "Though, I… I've been having dreams about her lately. It's like I'm seeing these memories of our lives before… you know, it happened. I don't know what to make of them." I finally looked at my sister. "She was so beautiful, Bianca. Inside and out, which is more than I could say for the rest of the world 70 years ago. You remind me a lot of her."
Wordlessly, Bianca put down her mug, discarded the plate, and scooted close, wrapping her still pale arm around me in a hug. We stayed like that for a little while longer, enjoying each other's company. It was like we were trying to salvage the remnants of a simple past we can never go back to. I relished the comforting heat of the make-shift hearth. The flames were a strange shade of emerald green, the kind you would only find lighten in the Underworld or the now nonexistent Cabin 13. But at that moment, they couldn't have been more relieving. "Nico," Bianca spoke up suddenly. "Tell me what Hazel was like."
I smiled, a million and one stories coming to mind. I told her about all the times Hazel and I would sit on the rooftop of Pluto's temple, talking about nothing and everything. I recalled all of Hazel's amazing sketches, and how she could make a stunning masterpiece with a mere pencil or stick of charcoal. I talked about how amazing Hazel was at riding horses, and how she once stopped a stampede of unicorns with her powers over precious metals. I even told Bianca about her blackouts, where she would relive memories of her first life. Before I knew it, I was describing the adventures of the Argo II, going into detail of our sister's innate ability to manipulate the mist.
"She took down this one sorceress and giant by creating afull fledged maze out of mist magic. I've never seen anything like it," I reminisced with a proud smile.
Bianca hung onto every word, occasionally asking questions like "What's her favorite thing to draw?" and "What's her horse's name?". I didn't miss the way Bianca asked every question in present tense. The detail should have bothered me, but it didn't. If anything, it made me hopeful, knowing Bianca wanted to meet Hazel.
"Oh, and she has this boyfriend that I heard once shapeshifted into an iguana to escape Chinese handcuffs," I added. "Leo Valdez, a son of Hephaestus told me about it once."
"Wow, that's…" Bianca was too busy gasping for breath from laughter to finish. It was a nice distraction from the somber conversation earlier. "That's… Why is that so funny?" She giggled.
I snorted. "Yeah, I sometimes question her taste in guys." Leo the Elf included.
She stopped laughing abruptly. "Like your taste in guys?" She treaded carefully, as if afraid one wrong word might break me and leave me irreparable. She wasn't wrong.
The smile slipped off my face as I focused my attention on the grains of sand beneath our feet. "Yeah. Like that."
Bianca put a supportive hand on my shoulder. "Nico, I… I think that's really brave of you, feeling that way about a boy."
I frowned. "It's scandalous and disgusting," I said, the disturbing memory of my encounter with Cupid coming to mind. "There's nothing brave about it."
Bianca glanced at me shrewdly. "I don't believe you feel that way. I certainly don't." There was something in the tone of her voice that surprised me.
The last couple days, ever since Bianca joined the Hunt, she's changed. Before, the changes weren't so subtle. The aura, the attitude, the confidence—that much was obvious. Now, there was a certainty to her that hadn't always been there. Her confidence didn't come across as arrogant or fake, instead it was deeper than that. It was the kind of confidence rooted in a leader, someone who was headstrong enough to inspire not just others, but, themselves too. She reminded me a lot of Percy, Jason, Thalia, and Hazel too.
A natural born leader, I thought. I finally understood what father meant when he said Bianca would've been more powerful.
She smiled reassuringly. "Nico, love is love. I won't judge you for feeling something for someone, much less a boy. I mean, yeah, it's different, but it's… it's not bad. It isn't." The way she was talking gave me the impression she was convincing herself more than me. In all honesty, I thought she was handling this pretty well. We were born in a time where such matters were deemed unacceptable and impudent. The very fact that she hasn't turned away or spit at me in disgust is relieving, to say the least. "Just promise me you won't let other people give you a hard time about it, okay?"
I nodded, reading inbetween the lines: Don't tell them unless you trust them. "Okay."
"So… Percy, huh?" She smirked slyly. "He's nice. I approve."
My eyes widened in alarm and my face felt hot. "Percy? No, I don't feel that way about him anymore. I've moved on."
She raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
I sighed, exasperated. "Yes, I'm sure. He's like an older brother to me. I wouldn't want it any other way." I also wouldn't want to stand in Annabeth's way, whether she's holding her dagger or not.
Bianca studied me as she took a long sip of her cocoa. With the maddening glint in her eyes, I had to admit her inscrutable gaze was slightly unnerving. For a moment, it reminded me of my father's impassive stare. "Okay," she said finally. "I believe you." I was relieved that she sounded sincere.
I nodded. "Glad to hear it."
"I'm sure you are."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"So, what's up with you and your one-man group, Will?" Bianca asked, changing the subject. I took the bait, feeling glad for a change in topic.
"What about him?"
"Are you guys friends or something? He seems nice, but his whistle almost made me go deaf. Is he a son of Apollo?"
I snickered. It would seem she hadn't forgotten about that little…Ah, family spat. "Was it the hair that gave it away? Also, I regret nothing."
Bianca grumbled something about how hard it was to find her weapons before she smirked. Suddenly I felt very nervous. "Oh, don't worry. I'm plotting my revenge as we speak. And no, it was actually the bow, but I guess the hair made it kind of obvious too. Also, you didn't answer my question."
A rare smile reserved only for Will crossed my face. I stared wistfully at the Arizona horizon and wondered what he's doing right now. Probably healing ungrateful demigods (aka the baboons of the Ares Cabin) or practicing archery with the rest of his cabinmates. I was surprised to find that I really missed him and his stupid nicknames he likes to call me. "Yeah," I said. "he's my friend."
"Well, I can't wait to meet him," Bianca said softly. She frowned. "Without any banshee whistles or volleys of arrows, of course."
"Of course."
Silence.
"Nico, I've been thinking…" She was reluctant to finish her sentence as she smoothed down her hair and braided it again. Though why she was hesitant, I could only guess. I gestured for her to continue. "Well, I saw the way you summoned those skeletal dinosaurs, and the green fire, and burned those skeleton warriors to crisps too. I was wondering if you could maybe—"
"No," I deadpanned, already knowing what she was about to ask.
"'No'? Why not?" She asked incredulously. "Why won't you teach me?"
"Bianca, isn't it obvious? We are the children of Hades, the most feared god, the outcast, and the 'evil' god! Do you really think they're ever going to accept us? Especially if we used our powers?" Bianca eyed something behind me wearily, and I realized the shadows around us were spiraling out of control in response to my flailing arms. I sighed tiredly and banished them, trying to calm down before I blew up like a nuclear bomb in Bianca's face. Well, it's probably too late for that. "Look, I think I understand why you want to learn how to use your abilities. It's interesting, it's useful, and it will often get you out of some pretty tough situations. But, trust me when I say this: it is not worth it."
"How can you say that?" She admonished me. "You used your powers to save lives! Why won't you teach me to do the same?"
"Our powers are a curse! What don't you understand about this? We are a curse!" I shouted, utterly stunned how she could possibly be having trouble understanding this three thousand year old concept. "They fear us! They are never going to accept us! They will whisper behind our backs, glance at us in fear, and back away every time we are in their vicinity. That's what the life of a child of Hades is like, Bianca. That's what your life will be like too if you learn to use your powers."
"Who, Nico? Who would ever do that?" She asked, but I could already see the answer in her eyes.
"You know who."
"Camp," she admitted miserably, plopping herself back down in the sand pittifully. "And the Hunters. And the Gods."
"Even the mortals are weary of us," I said, plopping down right next her. "and they don't even know what they're weary of."
"Percy and Annabeth accepted us. So did Zoe, Thalia, and Grover," Bianca tried. I could almost see the tiny sliver of hope she was dangling from.
I knew from experience it wouldn't get her far.
"They'll turn on us too," I mumbled bitterly, memories and flashes of the aftermath of the Second Titan War coming back to me. "They all do eventually." I sighed again and massaged my forehead. I feel like I've aged a hundred years because of this stupid quest. Why did Artemis feel the need to hunt on her own? Better question: Why is it after three thousand years, the Gods still haven't learned their lesson?
Now that is the conundrum that I want no business solving.
"Bianca, I'm trying to save you from a lot of trouble. I've seen it all happen before. You do good things, you save the world, and somehow all they remember is the fact that you have deathly powers." I glanced at her, and she wouldn't meet my eyes. I tried for a different approach. "People like us… It's best for everyone if we melt into the background and watch from the shadows. They're afraid of what they don't understand. Death is not something anyone will ever come respect, even if it is one of the most necessary things in the world."
The concept reminded me of the position I was stuck in with the two camps. How it was necessary to have a mediator with knowledge of where both of the lost heroes were, and the burden of having to prevent another World War all over again. No one wants to do it, but someone has to.
"No."
"'No'? What do you mean no?"
"I refuse to believe no one will accept us. I refuse to believe we can't make a difference." She stood up and towered over me. I felt an air of authority to her, proving she was a force to be reckoned with. "Nico, right before you ran into the automaton, you told me to show Olympus why they are wrong to think all children of Hades are evil." I grimaced. It would seem I had too high of hopes at the time, despite everything. "We have to prove it to them. We can prove it to them!" Her black eyes glittered as the gears turned in her head. I gotta hand it to my sister, no one gave her enough credit for her cunning and self sufficiency. "What if we complete quests for camp, but leave out of the fact that we're children of the Silent One? We build trust, then we reveal our parentage at the right moment."
I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "Well, for one thing, you're a Hunter of Artemis, so you can't go on quests unless she gives you permission. Another thing, they might just turn on us the second we reveal our parentage, regardless of all that we've done for them—" Bianca made a move to rebuttal, but I held up my hand to wait. "And before you say what I think you're going to say, they've done it in the past. And finally, it might just make us look even more suspicious if we hide our parentage from them in the first place." I scoffed. "It's not like we have any sponsors like they do it in New Rome." I froze, suddenly realizing I just spouted out the solution.
"A sponsor…" Bianca pondered. "As in someone vouching for us? Do you think that could work?"
"It could work if we find somebody they trust to sponsor us, or some-bodies." I said, a plan beginning to form in my mind. "Like… Like…"
"Percy and Annabeth," we said simultaneously. Woah, weird sibling telepathy.
"Do you think they would vouch for us? And Zoe too?" She asked.
"And Will. I told him about my parentage, and he's the son of the God of Truth. If anyone can't lie, it's him."
"You told Will?" I nodded. "So, you trust him?"
"Yeah, I do."
"So, will you do it then? Will you teach me?" Bianca asked, and I could see the desperation in her eyes. She wants to learn, and I'm afraid I might not be able to hold back that ambition. "We can get a sponsor, and we won't use our powers in front of camp, or the Hunters."
I frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to me. The way Bianca's been talking to me, it sounded as if she were planning to stay at camp. In other words, leaving the Hunters. A spark of hope lit inside of me, though I didn't dare kindle it. I thought about asking the million dollar question, Will you stay with me? But then I realized, no, why would she ever want to do that? She's got everything she's ever wanted: immortality, freedom, and a real family. Why would she ever want to hang around her annoying little brother, even if I am slightly less annoying than I used to be. No, now I'm just an emotional wreck. I'm no longer annoying in a childish sense, just in an emotional sense, and that is a thousand times worse. The spark of hope dwindled until it snuffed itself out.
This is how I have to live my messy life now: alone, in hiding, and sisterless. I might as well get used to it.
So despite everything, I tried to appreciate this bittersweet conversation. After all, this is probably going to be the last private talk I ever have with Bianca before she moves on to greater things in life.
I swallowed the metallic taste in my mouth and answered truthfully, "I'll teach you on one condition." She raised her eyebrows in question and gestured for me to go on. "You lay low and learn to control your aura. You hide your abilities until absolutely necessary."
Even if Bianca is moving on to greater things in life, I'm not about to leave my sister vulnerable.
"So, you're asking me to… hide a part of myself?"
I sighed. Was I this naive when I was younger? "I'm asking you to protect yourself. The more you use your powers, the stronger your scent and aura will become. You have to learn to tone it down, or people and monsters will begin to notice. With the prophecy just underway, you do not want to be noticed."
"What is the prophecy exactly?" I hesitated and she saw it. "We're children of the Big Three, Nico. I need to know."
I sighed, knowing I wouldn't win this, and reiterated the century year old prophecy.
"A child of the Eldest Gods,
Shall reach sixteen against all odds,
And see the world in an endless sleep,
The hero's soul cursed blade shall reap,
A single choice shall end his days,
For Olympus to preserve or raze."
"Who completed it?" She blurted out suddenly. "You know, in the other timeline?"
"Percy Jackson, Son of Posiedon did," I said. "He managed to save Olympus and lead us to victory, but we lost a lot of good demigods that day."
She nodded sadly. "I see."
We were quiet for a moment, descending into a respectful silence for the Fallen who, up until now, couldn't be saved. Silena Beauregard, Beckendorf, Michael Yew, Ethan Nakumura, Castor, and even dare I think it, Luke Castellan, who, despite everything, still died a hero's death.
They all made it to Elysium and many more followed.
I took a shaky breath, suddenly recalling the dreadful feeling inside of me when their days ended. When I heard the ringing. All the wildflowers in the field…
"Come on," I said, brushing myself off as if that would rid the cold chill washing over me. "I'll teach you some of the basics. We still have a lot of time before we have to be there."
As much as I wanted to help Percy and the others on this quest, I knew it simply wasn't my place. They have to be the Five that travel west, or the Fates will find a way to knock our numbers down to five. Knowing their previous methods, staying with Bianca, alive and in good health is probably the best alternative.
She nodded as I helped her up.
…
We stood planted in the searing sand, a little ways from the campfire. The sun hadn't yet disappeared in the horizon, still high and sweltering in the evening sky. I tried to stay in the shade, but there weren't exactly many places that offered shade smack in the middle of a desert like this.
"Okay," I said, clapping my hands together. "Show me what you already know."
Bianca blinked. "Um…"
It would seem I have to try a different approach. "Let me rephrase that: Just… do whatever comes natural to you."
She nodded and closed her eyes. She held out her arm in front of her, as if she were trying to grasp something invisible. With the flick of her wrist, a rumbling sound, like the echoes of an earthquake resonated directly underneath us. I subconsciously took a step back as three chunks of uprooted rock detached from the layer below the shifty sand and floated protectively around Bianca. She opened her eyes, two solid masses of darkness in an expansive mirror of nothingness.
This is no hunter, I realized. A hunter would hunt for sport and game. The look in my sister's eyes was something deeper. An instinct that could not be blossomed by the gift of immortality, but one that's always been there. I didn't know what that instinct was, only that Bianca, and all those other well known heroes before her had it.
Power? Perhaps, though this is beyond such a thing. I've seen this look before—I see it every time the Son of Posiedon opens his seastorm orbs in the eye of a hurricane. I see it whenever Annabeth takes a monster down by scheme. I see it when Hazel deceives with a trick of the mist, or when Reyna commands the Legion with the resonance of a single word. I see it in the Seven and all of the other powerful demigods of our generation.
Potential, the word finally came to me. The potential to be great. The potential to be remembered long after you're gone. The potential to be more than a pawn, something not every demigod has.
No, I decided. Bianca di Angelo is not a hunter. She's a hero, and I have an inkling feeling she'll be remembered for a lot more than a sacrifice.
Bianca stared at the rocks tumbling back down curiously, as if doubting that she was the one that beat gravity. She glanced at me expectantly, though I had nothing to say—I think I lost the words when my older sister started making rocks float in the sky.
I opened my mouth, attempting to find my voice. When I couldn't, I tried for a smile and two thumbs up to convey the message. She beamed.
"Well," I said after a moment of stunned silence. "would you like to try resurrecting the dead? I would teach you how to shadow travel, but I don't think we have the time, unless you'd be okay with going comatose for a week. Or, you know, taking an unexpected vacation to China. Or a tree."
Bianca frowned in question. "How does one take an unexpected trip to a—"
I waved her off. "Don't ask."
"Okay…"
"Right," I said, trying to get rid of the awkward silence. "I'm going to teach you how to raise the undead. It is a very useful, very creepy, and very taxing job."
"How is it taxing?" Bianca asked, not unlike how a student would address the teacher.
I raised an eyebrow in surprise. Of course she wouldn't know the meaning of taxing yet, I thought. She's been an immortal hunter for as long as she's known her other godly half. She hasn't been given the chance to expel her energy reservoirs or really use her powers.
"If you don't remember, you passed out from exhaustion right after you saved me in… Well, whatever that was. Passing out isn't exactly an uncommon way to replenish energy, especially for children of the Dead," I explained. "As a child of the Underworld, you have a handful of unique perks and abilities other demigods simply will never have. For example, you can teleport just about anywhere that has shadows, which, if mastered properly, is pretty handy. If you're like me, you can also resurrect your own army when needed. Yes, it's extremely useful to be able to summon and control your own backup. But, like most things in life, if it isn't used in moderation, it will kill you."
"Like, drop dead from exhaustion?" She asked.
"Perhaps. Or, say if you shadow traveled too much, you will start to become shadows." I grimaced, recalling how I once walked straight through a tree without realizing it. "Trust me, it's not a good way to go."
"I'm guessing you've had experience with that?"
I nodded grimly. "Bianca, I need you to understand what you're getting into by doing this: Like most circumstances of raising the undead, you have to realize that every time you do, you are inviting them to feed off of your energy reservoirs," I warned. "Think of it like an eye for an eye. You are summoning their help, but in return you must give some of your life in order for them to reanimate and roam the Land of the Living."
Bianca frowned, looking very disturbed by the concept. "What does 'give some of your life' mean exactly?"
"It means every time you summon a horde of skeleton or zombies, you lose a small sliver of your life force in the process. In other words, children of Hades who use their undead abilities literally lack life."
My sister looked at me, horrified. "That's barbaric! Why would anyone want to do that?!"
"Is it?" I crossed my arms defiantly. "Ethan Nakumara, Son of Nemesis once traded his own eye to his mother in exchange for the power to change the world. Because of his contributions to ending the Second Titan War, children of minor gods were accepted and even had cabins built dedicated to their parents at camp."
"But that's… Still…"
"All magic comes with a price, Bianca," I said wisely. "Even if children of the Underworld have unique abilities far beyond that of the average demigod, we are no exception to that rule."
"Still, I would hardly think trading a sliver of your soul in exchange for a bit of backup against monsters is a fair trade," she argued fiercely.
"No, probably not," I agreed. "Most of the time it changes you mentally, physically, emotionally… and permanently. The pale skin, the sunken eyes, the mental exhaustion… The list goes on. Half of the time raising the dead is what makes most of our siblings go insane. Though, the isolation and fearful glances definitely contribute."
"Is it worth it?" She asked. "Trading a silver of your soul to use your powers?"
"You tell me. I see you've already gotten a taste of what it feels like, if the manic eyes and pale skin is anything to go by."
"Saving you was worth it," she answered irrefutably. "But fighting monsters? That's debatable." She wrapped her arms around herself even though the breeze was still warm. "How do you do it? How do you raise the dead over and over, knowing you're giving up a part of yourself to them?"
I twisted my finger, pondering the question. "It takes a lot of willpower and a lot of getting used to. Once you do that, it gets easier." When I realized Bianca wasn't going to reply, I continued. "Look, I—"
I was interrupted by an eerie clattering sounding just behind us. With wide terrified eyes, I shared a quick glance with Bianca. Her eyes seemed to emit the same message: They're here.
We whirled around to face them; at least ten ghostly pale humanoid figures stalking towards us with shotguns in hand and hollow caverns for eye sockets. Their jaws clattered in unison, as if laughing at our misfortune and shortsightedness. I cursed myself for my stupidity as I backed away to Bianca. How could I forget about the skeleton warriors? Better question: How could I forget I was wearing Percy's jacket… with his scent on it?
"We should get out of here," I suggested. With my knife undergoing the unfortunate fate of being crushed by a gigantic sparkly machine, and Bianca's taxing rescue from the dance of souls, I knew we were both in no shape to fight, least of all a horde of skeleton guards who couldn't take a hint and just die already.
"We can't," she said simply, her dark eyes still fixed on the enemies.
"What do you mean we can't? Of course we can!" I exclaimed. "It's called shadow travel!"
She glanced at me out the corner of her eye. "And then what? We can't keep running from them, Nico. Better we face them now then have to worry about them later."
I sighed and bit back a retort. She's right, of course. Inviting them to join the party at Mt. Othrys can't be practical, especially if these guys don't go down easily. But how do we kill the undead?
I raised my hands in front of me, a feeble attempt to defend myself with power I wasn't even sure my 10 year old self was capable of yet. Maybe I can summon an obsidian wall and make a run for it? Before I could act, however, Bianca was already on top of it.
She raised her arms and whirled them around in a complex maneuver I've never seen before. It was like Bianca was weaving an invisible web of threads only she could see. Just as abruptly she yanked her hands back, and out came spiky stalagmites from the ground. It was one of the most magnificent displays of power I have ever seen. Like roots—no, branches—the stalagmites threaded themselves through every crook and cranny of the bony stalkers, ensnaring them and containing them in a prison of earth that had become a part of them.Spikes of earth seemingly grew out of eye sockets, rib cages, even joints, winding around them and keeping them still.
To put it simply, my sister just grew skeletal trees of earth in a matter of seconds.
The skeleton warriors dropped their weapons and twitched sporadically. I had an inkling feeling they wouldn't be following us anymore.
"That was…That was awesome!That must have been an attack power that was worth 5,000 with saving throws! Did you see that, Bianca?! You just did this weird spider web move and then bony earth trees grew! That was so awe—" I stopped talking abruptly, suddenly realizing I was sounding like a hyperactive 5 year old with a sugar high… Or, Leo Valdez with a sugar high.
I turned to my sister, surprised to find a small smile on her face. A tear ran down her cheek. "Bianca? Are you okay?"
She sniffled and wiped it away. "Yeah, I just… I thought the little brother I used to know was gone."
My eyes widened. "Oh."
She started to fidget with her braid as she looked away. "I uh… I don't know how I managed to do that." She gestured to the bony earth trees she grew.
I studied the skeletons. Their hollow eyes seemed to bore into my soul, and their bones rattled invariably before finally settling in eternal stillness. They looked like one of those skulls on a stick, the kinds of warnings civilizations of the past used to make a point. I smirked. These warnings clearly meant: Don't mess with children of the Underworld.
"You've got potential," I said without thinking.
"Potential? Potential for what?"
I smiled knowingly. I walked over to my bag and pulled out some nectar, taking note that it was almost all gone. "Here," I said, handing over the canteen to her. "Drink this. You'll feel better."
She took a swig out of the canteen and color returned to her face. "Thanks."
I glanced out at the horizon. A pale pink sky basked in a honey glow. "It's almost sundown. We need to leave."
Bianca's eyes trained on the horizon. She handed me her silver hunting knife, her eyes still on the magnificent view. "Here, take it. You're going to need a weapon."
I frowned. "How did you know I'm missing my knife?"
She smiled wryly. "Call it sisterly intuition."
"Sure," I drawled.
"But, seriously, we really do need to get going." She fixed her gaze on me. "What's going to happen when we get there? With the prophecy, I mean."
"I don't know," I replied quietly. "With how this quest has been going down, anything can happen."
She nodded. "Whatever happens, let's stay together, okay?"
I didn't mention the fact that we can't stay together, not when she's a Hunter of Artemis. Still, I nodded, because sometimes the truth hurts too much to acknowledge. Some lies are white enough to pass off as snow.
I smiled, despite everything; the war, the wildflowers, and the broken bloody world. "Okay."
A/N:
Hey guys, this chapter took a pretty long time to write, but I felt it was necessary for, you know, character development and sibling bonding. Also, I know the whole concept about giving some of your life to raise the dead is inaccurate and not cannon, but I thought it would be an interesting detail to the story, so I wrote it. I hope all of you are staying safe and quarantined!
