**** Artemis, Thalia thought bitterly for the millionth time. **** her right in the-

An Iris message screen appeared just in frontof them. The image was one Thalia hated seeing. Annabeth p****d. "THALIA, WHAT THE HADES DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" She screeched, obviously not pleased.

"Uh, nice to see you too?"

"SHUT! UP! WHERE'S PERCY AND NICO?" she demanded. Thalia heard this type of unbridled rage before, but it was usually reserved for slaughtering monsters. Her odds didn't look too hopeful.

"Well ... Percy, we have no idea where, but Nico's probably somewhere near Palacois Bay by now-"

"YOU MEAN YOU SPLIT UP?" Before then, Thalia didn't think a face could get that red. Or scream that loud.

"I-it's fine, really! Just calm down-"

Evidently, that was the wrong question to ask. "DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!"

"Okay! Just cal- uh, bring it down a little." Thalia soothed. "Slowly breathe in, and-"

"SHUT! UP!" That 'breathe slowly' junk wasn't working. "Thalia, for the past eleven years, I've respected you like you were a Goddess because of your strength, loyalty, and the fact that you're my best friend."

Thalia grinned, "Aw, thanks-"

"HOWEVER," Annabeth continued. "YOUR STUPIDITY AND LACK OF COMMON SENSE IS WAVERING MY DECISION!"

"What'd I do?"

Annabeth gave her a look. "Thalia. You're on a flying hoarse to Texas. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU DID?"

"Alright, alright, so it wasn't the brightest decision I ever made. But ... Percy did it first!" she whined.

Another look, this one more piercing. "You sound like a five year old, you know that?"

"Whatever! Nico and me-"

"Nico and I." Annabeth corrected. It's strange how picky she could get when she's mad.

"It doesn't matter!" Thalia grumbled. "The point is, we knew Fish Face wouldn't listen to reason, so we had to get him ourselves."

"Oh my Gods, Thalia." Annabeth said, shaking her head in shame. "Your logic is so ******* flawed it's not even funny. 'Oh, Percy jumped off a cliff! Let's jump off too to go get him!' "

Thalia grimaced. All she could say was, "I don't sound like that ..."

Annabeth sighed angrily, "Okay, just tell me this. Have you had an attack yet?"

"No, I've got it under control." Though, Thalia didn't think so. She could loose herself any minute.

"Any word from the guys?"

"... Not a one. But I'm sure their fine, don't worry."

Annabeth's look softened. "I hope so."

Thalia saw the despreate uncertainty in her stormy grey eyes, and comforted, "I bet Nico's convincing the idiot to go back to camp as we speak. Hey, maybe they're even on their way now."

Annabeth smiled weakly, "You see, this is why I can't stay mad at you."

"Ditto."

The darkness seemed to be mocking Max at this point. Hours, it must've been, and still no light. Just screams and whispering, always whispering, like there was this big secret. A powerful secret. Beyond gossip, far beyond. It had to be something worth listening if it was always whispered, always hidden from those who's hearing is too acute. That little devil on his shoulder (or was that the angel?) spoke in his ear, advising him right. It's gotta be good, Maxy-boy, it's gotta be real good. Gotta be worth your while, maybe more. No, certainly more. Much more. Beyond anything you own or ever will. Tempting isn't it, Maxy? Just a little listen, that's all it takes. Know the secrets you always wanted to know; anything from what's for lunch tomorrow, to what Daddy's thinking inside that big ol' head of his. That's right. Daddy's got a couple secrets of his own, Maxy, ones that he would specifically like not to be made public. Not to you or the boy, anyhow. And that boy, Maxy, it said enticingly, capturing his attention, he's got a few of his own, ones he keeps just for rainy-days probably, to roll over in his mind as a pass-time. He wouldn't mind if ya' took a peek inside his skull, just a second. Not even enough for him to notice those lucky few secrets were gone. He's got a ton, he wouldn't miss 'em. You just gotta listen, buddy-boy, one little listen. Won't hurt, and that's a swear, son.

That voice, whoever or whatever it was kept promising things would be better if he listened to the whisperings. But Max knew what those whisperings really were. Kronos. They taught about him in school on the odd day in Greek Mythology class, and they taught a ton about it at camp. Ultimate evil, that's what he was. Couldn't be trusted, not for a milli-second. Whatever you do, don't even let him try to tempt you, that's lesson one. He takes your mind and steals it. Stores your will with it somewhere down here. After all, wherever they put all the minds he steals would have to be bottumless.

There was that word again. Bottomless, as in endless, as in you fall, that's all you're going to do. Forever. Just falling, always falling. No more ground, no more ... anything! One mis-step, and it's goodbye solid ground. Being blinded by that intense darkness didn't help a smidge. And there's the freaky part, ladies and gentlemen. He could step backwards and fall for eternity, forever in that pit, always in that pit. Never-ending, that's the ticket to spine-tingling terror. Just always. Nothing you could do, just simply always.

His thoughts were so scrambled, Max's mind would've been easy for the taking for Kronos. The fear of falling, the voice in his ear talking like an old-timey salesman, the fact that his brother sounded like he was foaming at the mouth. Not much sense in all that, just scrambled thoughts, like a TV on one of those black-and-white static channels. Kronos the cable-guy, nice ring to it? No? Good, becuase it didn't happen like that. Max was suck in his daze for long after Nico got them out of there, but they were out. Out. Light. Vision returning, sanity ... in-check. For now.

When Max realized his surroundings, nothing made sense. Wasn't he in a pit? Tartar- something? (Tartar sauce?) What about the whispering, where was the whispering? And the muted screams? Then there's the falling, what happened to the falling? This desert hotel made no sense. They were in that blackness, they had to be in that blackness, 'cause things wouldn't make any sense if they weren't.

His throat was dry, and the metallic taste of blood echoed in his mouth. (Blood? What blood?) Max was aware of Nico hovering over him - the realNico, not that monster-version - an intense expression on his face. He was thinking hard, looking up to that hotel place. His head cleared up enough for Max to register the pain. Pain everywhere. His head like a jack-hammer, his arms and legs like lemon-juice in the eye, and his ankle ... oh, Gods! He let out a cry of anguish, "Aaaarrrrrrrrghhh!"

Nico jumped back, startled, but kept his cool. "Sleeping Bueaty's up already?"

"What?" Max croaked, his throat feeling severe gravity, making his voice come out in struggled rasps.

Nico studied him, a hard look plastered on his face. "How much do you remember?"

Max swallowed, hoping for moisture. No such luck. "Voices. Voices whispering. And you were ... you warned me about it. You came at me. Y-you tackled me, ripped me ..."

"Hm. I guess this is the part where I say I told you so." Nico said, though his voice was deadly serious, no humour. He was trying to hide fear, Max could sense it.

Nico was staring at the hotel-thing now, intensely, pure hatred, like the place was Hades himself. "Where are we?"

"Lotus."

"The casino you talked about?"

"Yeah," Nico whispered, his voice trembling, as if even his vocal-cords were terrified. "the very same."

It took a great deal of energy to prop himself up on his elbows, and a ton of pain. It nearly knocked him out, to be honest. His head hurt even more (that's possible?) as he did. Nico held his shoulder, stopping Max from going further. "Whoa there. I wouldn't move if I was you. I think you got a concussion back in Tartarus when I first attacked you, and you only came around just after I did. Plus, that ankle looks pretty broken."

Max turned his attention to his ankle. Nope, it's not supposed to bend that way, definetly not. A wave of nausia washed over him, and he probably would've hurled if his throat could stand it. His throat felt like Freddie (Nightmare On Elm's Street, Freddie) took his hedge-clipper hands to Max's jugular. His pale face just got paler.

Nico's hard temperament collapsed. Worry flooded his mind, and what mattered most was that Max was okay. That his brother was okay. "Max, lie back down, it's fine for now. Just rest, we have plenty of time before Percy and Thalia get here."

"But what about-"

"It doesn't matter, you need rest. I scraped you up pretty bad. I'm sorry. Real sorry." Emotion filled his words, and he really meant every apologetic word.

Max smiled weakly, "S'okay. I wanted to tag along, and I knew what could happen. It's not your fault anyway."

Nico returned the smile, and whispered, tears draped in his eyes, "Thanks, Max."

"Don't mention it." He said before he drifted off into dream-land.

Nico chuckled weakly to himself. Family. This is what family is. Max couldn't be anything but family. Now. Maybe just for now, but now was comfort enough. He quelled every rising thought of what Kronos said. He didn't even want to think about it. Now, Max was family, and that was good enough.

While Percy rampaged across the country, Rose rampaged across camp, scowering every corner for Nico. She needed him right then. With her family obliterated, she needed support. She needed someone to say she made the right decision, that her rash actions were justifiable. That everything would work out, or at least, be okay. Letting her lust for him take over, and shutting every whim to stay out, she made a possibly irreversible decision, and she just ... needed Nico.

Yet, he simply wasn't there. It made no sense, and her desperation reached critical levels. When she reached the Big House - her last hope besides the guy's bathroom - everything seemed nightmarish. No dad, no Nico, just like a bad dream. A terrible, otherworldly dream where everything that could go wrong, did. That's all it was, a bad dream. Just wake-up, and it's all over. You're sitting in your bed, all too aware of your surroundings, but you at least know your surroundings are actually your surroundings and not some deluded fantasy fuelled by the fears of your deep sub-conceince. Not real, just wake up, just wake up, just wake-

Rose entered the Big House, ignoring Mr. D's sarcastic comments, and found Annabeth with her face hidden in her hands.

"Annabeth? Are you okay?"

Annabeth was startled. "Rose? What are you-"

"Long story." she squeked. "Are you alright? Do you know where Nico is?"

It took a moment for her to formulate an answer. "Long story."

"What's that mean? I-is he okay?"

"... Define okay."

We need more time! We need more a lot more time! The machine was a delicate thing. The Hephaestus children were pulled from their usual activities to construct it, but they weren't going to finish anytime soon, and Chiron knew it. But ... Percy, Thalia, and Nico were depending on it. Everyone, was depending on it.

In his many years on earth he had accumulated quite the death-tole of heroes he'd taught. So many youths taken in their prime. He tried not to think about often, but lately, death had been a prime factor in what seemed every situation. If they didn't make the machine in time, death. If it didn't work, death. If it did ... possibly even more death. Hopes were being extinguished, and Chiron could imagine the death-count rising by at least three.

I seriously can't stretch this further. I've checked in with everybody, and I don't think I can drag this on too much longer. Sorry. At least the quality didn't dip too far in one part compared to another like the last chapter. Anyway, I've finally found that old spark with the story. What I mean is, I was pretty bored before, but I'm getting back into it. Hopefully I don't loose interest (I don't think that's going to happen with the story being on it's last couple chapters).

P.S. Have you ever had to use a puffer? I have to now until this STUPID chest infection clears up. You get used to it after a while, but it's pretty tedious and annoying.