The next day was announced by the streaks of orange tearing across the sky. Reyna was already up when pink light was dripping through the leaves, stomping on the embers of the campfire to put it out, spitting on it for good measure. She gathered most of their things–the large sack of clothes and food, her sword, and one water bottle–while Nico shouldered his smaller backpack, fastened his Stygian iron sword in its sheath around his waist, and took the remaining bottles. That left the Athena Parthenos.
In the soft light, the giant statue definitely looked godly–the growing sunlight gleamed off its marble structure, and it towered above Nico, the bottom bathed in shadows and the face of Athena shimmering. It had brought Nico and Reyna so much trouble; if they lost it, that was it. Their journey was over, and a war would likely spark between the camps. Not to mention Percy. He'd fallen into Tartarus with Annabeth because of the thing...
"Nico?" Reyna said, jarring him back to the present. He jerked his attention to her.
"Yes?"
"Ready?"
He stared at her, before he realized she meant their very inconvenient form of travel. Frankly, he was still exhausted from yesterday's distance, despite the hours of sleep he'd gotten. And the Parthenos, plus Reyna and Hedge–it added to his burden. He wasn't sure if he could handle much more before he fainted altogether.
"Yes," he responded. "Of course."
Nico couldn't afford to let more people down, to fail another mission. He'd been nothing but a troublesome weight to everyone over the past few years. It was time he succeeded in a quest of his very own–and something as mundane as feeling sleepy wasn't going to stop him.
Reyna arched her eyebrows skeptically, but fortunately for her, she knew not to push.
"Okay," she said, zipping up her coat. "Wake Hedge, will you? Lazy faun's been sleeping all morning."
"Once a Roman, always a Roman," Nico teased with a strained smile. Reyna sneered, but he could see a glint of humor in her eyes. It was nice to joke, forced as they were, to loosen the tension.
He meandered over to Coach, who was snoring under the branches of a pine, drool sparkling in his goatee, and, as lightly as he could, kicked him in the stomach.
It was Nico's classic way of waking others–asserting himself, jolting them awake quickly while quietly letting them know to not fool around. Coach bolted upright, his eyes snapping open in alarm and frantically scanning the landscape, then closing with a rough sigh.
"Do you have to wake me up like that every time?" he whined.
"As long as you keep oversleeping, yes," Nico replied wryly. "Pack your things. We're leaving in five minutes."
"Man, why can't we stay here for a little while! It's so nice!"
"We have things to do, Hedge," Reyna jumped in. "Get the Parthenos to this camp of yours. Stop a potential war. We have no time for horsing around."
"Who said anything about horsing around? Just a few naps, maybe a couple rounds of charades–"
"No," Nico and Reyna hissed in unison. Coach crossed his arms, his lip curling into a pout.
"You two are no fun," he grumbled, stuffing a few dozen apples and tin cans into a cloth satchel.
Nico surveyed the mountainside–dense layers of forest stretched for miles, an occasional cabin peeking through the branches, nothing more than a brown dot in the distance. Here, they were sheltered by the trees, and the thick smell of nature covered their demigod scent. They hadn't encountered a single monster for days.
But their next stop was Georgia, back into civilization, with hundreds of people and houses and neighborhoods; more monsters, more lives at risk, more chances at failure. But they were so close–Georgia, then New York, then Camp Half-Blood. Assuming they arrived in time and alive with the Athena Parthenos, the two camps would no longer be at war.
Nico would finally succeed at something.
He clung to that thought as he dragged in a breath of crisp mountain air, closed his eyes, and imagined darkness around him, wrapping around him like a mummy, sticking to him like glue. As he summoned the shadows, a frigid coolness pricked his skin like a needle, and the wind picked up, swirling around him like a tornado. No sooner than he started drifting away, a hand grabbed his, but he recognized the calluses of Reyna's brittle fingers and kept his eyes tightly shut. He could only assume Coach was with her.
Then the ground disappeared beneath him, the air thinned to almost nothing, and he was swirling through a vortex of darkness, cold, and noise. Wails split through the air, rattling Nico's mind, and once in a while, what felt like a hand brushed his arm, sending a shiver of electricity up his spine. But he was accustomed to the horrors of shadow-traveling. It was Reyna who was tightening her grip on Nico's wrist, most likely to disguise the trembling of her hand. She'd only shadow-traveled a few times, and that was hardly enough to get used to the eeriness of it. Even a Roman praetor, Nico realized, could barely handle the power of Hades.
When the cold and noise subsided and darkness melted into daylight, Nico opened his eyes. They were exactly where they needed to be–a green banner reading Welcome to Atlanta, Georgia in bubbled letters hung directly over their heads. Glancing backwards, he spotted Reyna, sweat glinting off her brow, and Coach Hedge, panting and clutching his chest. All their supplies were with them.
He couldn't so much as smile before he collapsed, exhaustion weighing down every muscle and tendon, his heart racing. Reyna rushed towards him, helping him to his feet and resting his arm across her shoulders for support. Nico leaned into her, nearly knocking her down, and she struggled to straighten, her own body quivering.
"Hedge!" she called out through gritted teeth. "Could use a little assistance!"
Coach hobbled over to them, still gasping for oxygen, and took Reyna by the forearm, lifting her.
"Gets me every time," Coach said as his breath returned to him. Reyna regained her posture, and Nico's own pulse started to slow. He looked around, taking in the shops and businesses, the parlors and restaurants. They'd made it.
Although he hardly had time to celebrate before a scream pierced the air.