Nico's dreams were usually vivid images of his past or vague, murky hints at what the future may hold. That night it was a blur of things he vaguely remembered and things he had never experienced.

It was cramped and smelly and dark in the bomb shelter. Pietro and Nico were jammed against each other and shoved into the corner of the space. Nico's shoulder was uncomfortably pressed against the ridged metal wall of the shelter and could feel the head of a loose nail poking him in the back. The other boys were squashed in the shelter around him and Pietro's hand was in his, clammy with sweat and their fingers tangled together. Pietro was white as a sheet. His eyes were squeezed shut and his breathing came in shallow gasps.

"It's going to be okay," Nico whispered in his ear.

Pietro had always hated the shelters. Nico had to drag him in with him or else he'd balk at the door.

"Too small," Pietro murmured.

"It's okay," Nico whispered back. "Remember the blanket fort we made? It's just like that!"

Pietro shook his head furiously. "No," he said. "No, it isn't."

An explosion shook the earth. Dust rained from the ceiling. Pietro grabbed onto Nico's arms with both of his hands. His fingernails stabbed into the skin.

God, Nico prayed, if anyone is listening, don't let us die here.

In the Underworld, Hades raged.

"He knows! He has found them."

He paced back and forth in his study.

He stopped abruptly turned and pointed at Alecto who stood in the doorway. He bent to write at his desk and scrawled a hasty letter across a piece of parchment.

"Deliver this to the school and go to their Aunt. Tell her they are being removed from her care and that I am taking them."

"Yes, Lord," Alecto agreed.

Deeper in the Underworld, something laughed.

"Yes, Son of Hades. Run from your mortal war, run to me."

Nico tried to shake off the lingering feeling of unease as he slid out of bed. He was seriously regretting the decision to sleep in his clothes. He had an angry red indent at his hips from the pressure of his belt but at least his stomach no longer felt hollow and empty as it had when hades had disabled his powers the night before.

He stretched and shook out his stiff elbows. What time was it? It was always difficult to tell in the Underworld. He had been up later than usual to have dinner with the rest of Hades' family. Could it be time for training already?

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Nico shuffled over, bleary-eyed, and opened it to admit the usual servant with his breakfast tray.

He blinked.

On the other side of the door was no servant. Plutus was hanging upside down in mid-air, his black wings flapping and holding him aloft.

"Morning!" he said cheerfully.

Nico rubbed his eyes. "Am I still asleep?"

Plutus leaned in so close they were almost nose to nose. "No…" he mused, "no I don't think so. Your eyes look open to me. Do you normally sleepwalk?"

"I don't want to be rude," said Nico, even though he was about to be, "but what are you doing here?"

"Hiding. Is it alright if I come in?"

Without waiting for an answer, Plutus flew passed him into the room and sat down on Nico's bed.

"I thought you were someone bringing me breakfast," said Nico as he closed the door.

Plutus furrowed his brow. "Why would I bring you breakfast?"

"That isn't what I– never mind. Can I help you?"

"Probably," Plutus shrugged. "I'll let you know if anything comes up."

Nico resisted the urge to pull his own hair out. "Why are you here, Plutus?"

"Oh." Plutus nodded in sudden understanding. "I'm hiding from Thanatos. I'm supposed to be helping in administration but it's too boring. I thought you might have something more interesting to do."

"Like what?"

"Like bringing the ceiling down on Zagreus' head! That could have gone badly last night, by the way. You're lucky you got out of there when you did. Zagreus or Mother or both of them were definitely going to kill you. And you should have seen Zag afterwards! He went on and on at Father about kicking you out of the Underworld. Mother's face was so red from all the shouting I thought she was going to explode."

Nico settled in his desk chair. "How can Zagreus hate me so much? I'd never even heard of him before dinner!"

Plutus cackled and rolled around on the bed. "You should tell him that."

"I'm not actually suicidal."

"I've questioned that more and more since you first walked into dinner."

Nico threw a pillow at him. It hit Plutus square in the face. Nico dodged when his brother threw it back at him.

"See? Case in point. I could obliterate you right here, you know."

"Are you going to?"

Plutus shrugged. "Not today."

"That's very comforting."

"I'm glad you think so." Plutus' eyes lit up at the sight of the tray on the desk. "Ooh, is that cake?"

Nico glanced over at it. "Uh, yes. Did you send it? It appeared there last night."

Plutus held out a hand and the plate gently lifted off the desk and floated over to him, landing in his lap. "I didn't send it but I'll eat it." He stabbed the cake with the delicate little fork and took a huge mouthful. He sighed happily. "I love chocolate."

"I'm sensing a running theme."

"Hm?" Plutus blinked at him.

Nico waved him off. "Forget I said anything. If you didn't send it, who did? Not Father."

Plutus shrugged. "Probably Macaria. She ripped Father a new one after he sent you to your room." He snorted. "As if Zagreus wouldn't have torn you apart if you had stayed."

"Domestic bliss around here then."

"Oh, always. Honestly, you being here has stirred the pot, which is fun, but it's not like we were ever the perfect family before you arrived. We've always been a bit…"

"Nuts?" Nico offered, without really thinking.

"Different," Plutus corrected pointedly, although the corners of his mouth were struggling to contain a smile. "I wouldn't say nuts. Father likes to point out that he's never thrown one of his children off a mountain, although sometimes the way Zag goes on at him I think that's only because there isn't one in the Underworld that's tall enough to do the job."

"At least you'd be okay if he threw you off a mountain," Nico said, nodding to Plutus' wings. He paused, realizing he was about to be rude again but he couldn't help himself. "How come you have wings, anyway?"

Plutus snorted. "You can't just ask a god why they have wings. Why don't you have wings?"

Nico considered. He guessed that was a fair point.

"Kidding," Plutus said, breaking out into a wide grin. "I've had wings since I was born. Apparently, it's because I'm the god of wealth. Symbolizes that money can leave much faster than it arrives."

Nico frowned. "Wait. I thought Father was the god of wealth."

Plutus shook his head and took another bite of stale cake. "He has control over the riches under the earth. That's different from being the embodiment of the concept, which is what I am."

"Then what about Zagreus?"

"God of Orphic Mysteries," he explained. "It isn't a big job. So mostly he just likes to hunt. Artemis likes him because of that but sometimes it's like he thinks of everyone as prey." Plutus' demeanour turned more serious. "You've got to be careful around him but if you stand your ground he won't usually push it. He's really protective of our mother and he's been fighting with Father ever since the Big Three made their pact."

"Pact?"

"What? You don't know?" Plutus looked positively thrilled by the prospect. "After the Great Prophecy came out, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades made a pact that they would have no more children. Poseidon didn't have any children left under the age of sixteen which just left Zeus' son, Philip, and you and your sister. Everyone thought Philip would be the subject of the prophecy but nothing happened when he turned sixteen."

Nico nodded. He remembered Chiron telling him the same thing.

"That ticked Zeus off because then two of Hades' children were the only options left," Plutus continued. Zeus hates the idea that one of you could be the hero. That's why he went berserk and tried to kill you all. Anyway, the point is that Zagreus has been fighting with Father ever since because he thinks that you and your sister should have been set aside as soon as the pact happened. He thinks you still being alive is disrespectful to our mother or something." Plutus shrugged. "I don't really see the big deal. I mean, Father has never had as many demigod children as the other gods but you two aren't the first and you won't be the last. It isn't like Mother doesn't have–"

He slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Persephone has demigods too?" Nico demanded. He clapped his own hand over his mouth. That had come out louder than he had meant it to. He lowered his hand. "She has demigod children too?" he said again, his voice quieter.

"Don't tell anyone I told you," Plutus warned. "It's kind of don't ask don't tell. I mean, it's one thing if my Mother hates you but nobody wants Father hunting down mortals. He knows it happens sometimes but… we just don't talk about it okay?"

Nico shook his head. "I never met any children of Persephone at camp."

"Well, no, you probably wouldn't have. Even if there are any at the camp these days, the minor gods don't have cabins, you know that. They don't usually claim their children anyway and it would be almost cruel to put a demigod in Father's line of fire. If Mother does have any children at Camp Half-Blood they would be in the Hermes cabin like everyone else who isn't claimed."

A light sparked on in Nico's brain. He sat forward eagerly. "There's something else I was wondering about, too. At the solstice, Zeus said something about 'what happened in Alaska' and everyone got really tense. What was he talking about?"

Plutus paused. He glanced at the doors and windows as if to check for any visible eavesdroppers. "Whatever you do," he said, "do not mention that to anyone else. Not to Father, not to Persephone, not to Quintus, no one. Understand?"

"Yes, but what is it? Why is everyone so secretive about it? If it's something about the prophecy, shouldn't I know?"

Plutus shook his head. "Even I can't help you with this, little brother. It's too dangerous. Please trust me. It's all been taken care of. Just forget you heard anything about it."

Another knock sounded at the door. Geez, since when am I so popular? Nico thought. He slid off the bed and crossed the room to open the door again. Still no breakfast. Quintus stood in the doorway with a scowl on his face.

"Have you been in bed all morning?" he demanded. "I expected you in the arena an hour ago."

"Sorry. I must have slept through breakfast and then…" he gestured behind him and Quintus seemed to notice Plutus for the first time.

He bowed in the god's direction. "My Lord Plutus, I believe Lord Thanatos is looking for you."

Plutus flopped over onto his back. "Of course he is. I'm avoiding him."

"I see. Will you be joining us in the arena, then? I am afraid that Nico here really cannot afford to miss any training."

"Oh, why not?" Plutus sat up again and stretched his wings. "It can't be more boring than filing."

Down in the arena, as Quintus began Nico's usual routine, Plutus lazed on one of the stone benches and watched them with the bored curiosity of a house-cat.

Nico ran his warmup laps of the arena, did pushups, and lifted weights until he thought his arms and legs would turn to jelly. Through it all there was always Quintus, offering corrections and shouting orders and the odd tidbit of praise. Nico would be going to bed aching again. Quintus was definitely not happy that he had slept in.

"How did things go last night?" Quintus asked when Nico was finally allowed a water break.

Nico's expression soured and he took a large swallow from the clay pitcher. "Do we have to talk about it?"

"No, I suppose we don't." Quintus took the jug from his hand and traded it for Nico's usual practice sword. "Here, take this. No, higher than that. Keep your stance strong. You're doing cross-cuts with the dummy; first right to left and then left to right. Ready? One."

Nico swung his sword horizontally at the practice dummy.

"Two."

He repeated the motion in the opposite direction.

"Good. Again. One. Two. Harder, I know you are stronger than that. One. Two. Fix those feet of yours, keep your weight even. Again. One."

Nico swung.

"Stop leaning forward," Quintus corrected. "Two."

Nico shifted his weight and swung again. "I can't feel my arms," he complained.

Quintus sighed and gestured for Nico to lower his blade.

"You are a small boy Nico and I truly doubt that you will be the type of fighter who can truly utilize brute strength. You will have to learn to use other methods to your advantage. If you cannot be stronger, be faster and smarter than your opponent. Do you know why your training is so intensive? The purpose of this training is not merely to teach you how to fight. One day you will be a leader, Nico, and a great leader needs strength. To get there we begin with a sword, but you must remember that a weapon is only the beginning."

Plutus groaned loudly. "Seriously?" Nico and Quintus stopped and looked over at him. "This is what you two do all day? Running laps and giving pep talks? This was supposed to be more interesting."

"Will you no longer be joining us then, My Lord?" Quintus asked with forced politeness.

Plutus wrinkled his nose. "I don't do physical combat. It's all sweaty."

He sat up on the stone bench and stretched. Then, with one huge flap of his wings, he swung up into the air and glided over to them. Nico tried not to be envious of the wings and the easy grace with which Plutus used them.

"What else do you train, little brother?"

"Erm." Nico looked at Quintus. "Archery. Some hand to hand. We did throwing knives last week but I wasn't very good."

Plutus rolled his eyes. "I just said I'm not interested in any of that. Surely you inherited at least some of Father's power. Do you not train those skills as well?"

"We've tried," said Nico, "but it's hard when Quintus hasn't trained a demigod like me before and neither of us really know what it looks like when I'm doing it properly."

"That's easy then," said Plutus. "I'll teach you."

Quintus looked alarmed. "My Lord, I cannot ask–"

"You aren't asking," Plutus interrupted, "I'm volunteering. Besides, Thanatos can hardly pull me back to the palace when I am far too busy training the saviour of Olympus." He winked at Nico. "What can you do?"

"I'm good with skeletons," he shrugged. "Chiron used to have me spar with them."

"What can't you do, then?" Plutus amended.

"Well… there is something…" Nico glanced at Quintus. "I have– had a friend. Pietro. A long time ago. He died in the war."

Plutus nodded. "You want to summon him. That's easy enough. I can show you. You just to dig a grave and bring some food or drink to offer."

"That's the thing." Nico rubbed the back of his neck. "I know how to do it – I've almost done it once but…"

"But what?"

Nico scowled, "I'm not allowed to. Thanatos came and stopped me."

A grin spread across Plutus' face. "You little rebel! Of course I'll help."

"But if Father finds out–"

"Who's going to tell? He isn't omniscient, no matter what he wants you to believe. Quintus, if you want plausible deniability I would say now is a good time to make your exit."

Quintus gave a long-suffering sigh. "You are probably right, my lord." He nodded to them both. "No readings tonight, Nico. I will see you tomorrow. Hopefully."

With Quintus absent, Nico felt a rising tide of excited energy. This was it. He was finally going to see Pietro after so many years.

"How are you at geokinesis?" asked Plutus.

Nico couldn't help a proud smile. "One empty grave, coming right up."

He held his arm straight out in front of him and stared hard at the ground, imagining he could already see the grave in front of him. He closed his fist tight and yanked his arm back to his chest as if he had seized and pulled the earth itself away. The ground crumbled into a perfect eight by two and a half foot grave.

Plutus grinned at him. "Nicely done, little brother." He waved a hand and a pitcher of wine materialized beside the pit. "No matter what any of the old books tell you, don't use blood," he warned. "Especially not human blood. The dead find it disrespectful and all you'll summon is angry wraiths."

Nico poured the wine into the open grave and Plutus started chanting in Ancient Greek.

"Let the dead taste again. Let them rise and take this offering! Let them remember!"

The grave started to bubble and froth with the familiar brown liquid. Ghostly figures shimmered into existence before their eyes.

Plutus seemed to know exactly who he was looking for. He pointed at one figure on the edge of the group and all of the others evaporated back into nothing. The selected figure edged forward, knelt at the side of the grave, and drank deeply.

As it did, the shape became more solid. Nico could make out clothes – a school uniform? – and sandy blond hair.

"Pietro!"

Nico started forward but Plutus halted him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You won't be able to touch him," he murmured. "He is only a shade here."

Pietro frowned and looked down at his clothes. His skin and clothes were a washed-out grey like being viewed through a tinted window.

"Pietro?" Nico tried again.

"Who are you?" Pietro asked, cocking his head at Nico. "You look familiar…"

"Who am I?" Nico gave Plutus a bewildered look. "I'm Nico. We went to boarding school together, remember? You showed me around on my first day."

"Boarding school?" Pietro wondered. "I don't remember that."

"What do you mean you don't remember?" He looked to Plutus. "What's wrong with him?"

Plutus shrugged. "He is from Asphodel," he said. "His memories are fading."

Pietro cocked his head and stared straight through Nico with dull eyes. Nico's heart hammered in his chest. This was all wrong. This was not the Pietro he remembered or the reunion he had been waiting for.

"This isn't right."

How could this be it? All of those years of trying to hone his powers on his own, risking his father's wrath, literally scrabbling in the dirt for the slimmest chance of just not being alone anymore.

He took a step back.

"This isn't what I wanted."

Another step.

"Nico, hey, little brother." Plutus fluttered a few inches off the ground so they were eye to eye. "Look at me."

Plutus' voice was low and melodic like he was speaking to a nervous animal. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Nico knew that he should listen to Plutus.

"What's wrong with him?"

He met Plutus' glittering eyes with his own frantic gaze. He staggered backwards.

"I can't do this."

"Nico, don't–"

Nico turned on his heel and ran.

"Brother, come back!"

He ran out of the arena, around the corner of the palace, through Persephone's garden and out the main gate. Nico's eyes stung and he couldn't really see where he was going but he didn't care. The presence of his dead friend in the arena behind him was enough to spur him on.

The ground began to slope gradually downwards as Nico cut through the Fields of Asphodel and slowed to a walk. As he ventured farther, the trees became more sparse until there were none at all and the black grass thinned until there was nothing but bare dirt and gravel underfoot. The cavern roof seemed lower here and the stalactites glowed dimly above him.

As the cavern walls narrowed on either side, he realized that he had entered some kind of side tunnel. The slope steadily became steeper and he found himself stumbling and leaning his weight backward to keep his balance. The air smelled like sulphur and the musty scent of reptiles. Images flashed through his mind unbidden: a splatter of blood on an ancient stone altar, a murderous mouth with crooked yellow teeth.

Goosebumps prickled on Nico's arms and he looked back over his shoulder. The tunnel was dark and cold. He could hardly see the fires of Hades' kingdom in the distance behind him. Something was wrong about this tunnel. Had he strayed too far?

He looked back ahead, and his blood ran cold. The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was an enormous chasm that gaped wide like the open mouth of a monster.

A hiss of wind whistled up from the darkness. No, not wind. A whisper. The voice was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below him. He could almost make out the words. Ancient Greek, maybe?

… come … fall … son of Hades … raze …

Nico staggered backwards. He should never have come here. He turned and ran back up the tunnel. His legs couldn't move fast enough, the gravel slipped and gave way under his feet. The voice was growing louder and angrier behind him. A cold blast of wind pulled at his back as if the entire pit were inhaling. It felt like an invisible rope was pulled taught around his stomach. He ran harder. His leg muscles screamed for relief. A jagged cut of uneven rock cast a long shadow across the ground in front of Nico and at the sight, a memory flashed in his mind of another time he had been running and desperate for safety. He lunged for the shadow.

Home, he thought. Begged.

Darkness swept across his vision. A wail of outrage echoed from deep in the tunnel. The wind roared in his ears to the point of deafening him. The ground gave out beneath his feet, and Nico fell.

He landed sprawled on his back in the grass. The air was forced from his lungs and he gasped for breath.

Wait. Grass? Not gravel? Nico realized his eyes were closed and pried his heavy eyelids open.

He was back in Persephone's glittering garden. What in Hades had just happened?

"There you are!"

Nico's sat bolt upright. Beside the veranda, Plutus held himself in the air on steadily beating wings.

"You can't keep running from everything," he said. "It isn't going to help." He drifted over to Nico and landed softly beside him so they sat side by side. "It's good that you didn't go too far. Father might actually have thrown me off a mountain if I lost you."

Nico forced a hollow laugh. "Wouldn't have done much good with the wings and all."

"I'm sure he'd rip them out of my back first for putting his baby boy in danger."

At that, Nico laughed genuinely. "Yes, he's always the tender family man."

Plutus smiled at him for a brief moment before his face slipped into the seriousness Nico had first glimpsed back in his room. "I am sorry that the summoning wasn't what you expected. I never intended to hurt you."

Nico shrugged. "I don't know what I expected. I know I can't bring him back. I just…" He sighed. "I never get to say goodbye." Nico cursed himself every way he knew for how his voice broke. "My mother, Pietro, Bianca. It isn't fair!"

He knew what he sounded like: the same little boy he had been when he had first left Camp Half-Blood for the Underworld.

"You are half-mortal," Plutus said. He sounded hesitant, like he wasn't sure what would set Nico off again. "Perhaps you should try to mourn in a mortal way."

"I don't even know what that means," Nico scoffed. "Look around. Look at yourself. I haven't lived in the mortal world for a long time."

"And I'm not sure that that is a good thing."

Nico stared at Plutus. How could he say that? The Underworld was all he had left. Hades, Olympus, Camp Half-Blood, the prophecy. It was his entire world. What was left for him in the mortal realm? An old house in Washington D.C? Grandparents who had already turned their backs on him?

Plutus raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "You know I don't agree with Zagreus, little brother. If Father believes you are the prophecy child, that is good enough for me. Besides," he smiled a little, "I like you and your rebellious streak. You're going to get us both into lots of trouble. I'm looking forward to it. I just want you to remember that your mortal half cannot be ignored forever and that one day you might wish you had given it another chance."

"I'll think about it," Nico promised.

He wasn't sure that he would but maybe Plutus was right. His mortal life had been ruined by demigods waging war and had been uprooted by a god's wrath. Could he give mortal life a second chance? Maybe. One day.

But Plutus was right about another thing: he couldn't keep running from everything. He had run from camp, from James, from Pietro, from everything that had ever made him feel unsteady. It was time for him to stand his ground.