Nico woke to a kick in the gut.
He jarred awake, his eyes snapping open, and tried to bolt upright–but the restraints around his wrists and ankles dug into his flesh, and he fell back. Whoever had kicked him didn't bother being gentle; pain boiled in his stomach and coiled up his spine.
He looked up, only to confirm what he already knew: the son of Apollo glowered down on him, his eyes twinkling with amusement. His smooth features were contorted, as if he tasted something bitter, but his lips were still twisted in a wicked smile.
Nico wanted to yell at the boy for stealing his thing, but he settled for a scowl. Blondie crossed his arms.
"The ceremony's starting in fifteen. Get ready," he said.
"Ready for what?" Nico asked, his voice hoarse.
"You'll see." He started away, but Nico spoke again, his throat stinging.
"Can I get some water? My throat is dry."
"Like I'd give you anything. Who cares if you're thirsty when you'll be dead soon, anyway?" Blondie had a point there.
"I thought you said you needed us well-rested. I'm sure you don't want us dehydrated, either," Nico rasped. "Get us–both of us–water, or I'll get it myself."
Blondie considered this, his lip curling sourly.
"Please," Nico added, the word rattling his brain, ringing in his ears. The last time he said that, he was ten–Bianca had bought a soda and refused to share. Fine, he could almost hear her say. But just a sip.
Blondie hesitated, his eyes absent. Then his gaze focused and back straightened. He glared at Nico, his look icy.
"I'll have to go down to the river. Shouldn't take longer than ten minutes, but I'll tell Max and Tom to keep an eye on you. Go anywhere or do anything, and I'll stick the drakon on you." His voice was cold, his tone threaded with acid.
Once Blondie left, Nico's body un-tensed, releasing a stiffness he didn't know was there. He had no longer than ten minutes to free Reyna and himself and return to Coach Hedge. How he would do that, which the guards glaring at him three feet away or the arsenal of monsters surrounding them, he had no idea–it seemed impossible, hopeless even. But there was no turning back from here; the plan was already in place, and he had to follow through.
Quickly but thoroughly, Nico scanned the area. Among a group of rogue satyrs, his sword was placed against a brick wall, Reyna's weapon beside it. The Stygian iron was cracked as if handled poorly, the leather grip half-buried in the dirt. No more than fifteen feet off.
He tested his muscles, flexing his arms and legs, rolling his neck. The guards eyed him, and he scowled at them, the gesture genuine. They looked away immediately.
Sleep still weighed down on Nico. His back ached from the battle with the Hydra, his head pounding and stomach churning from days without food. Other than that, he was in not-too-horrible shape.
Quietly, Nico stretched out his right foot, straining against the ropes and the pain they brought, reaching toward Reyna and kicking her lightly but firmly in the calf. Her eyes rolled open, head lolling to the side, facing Nico. Since yesterday, she'd been growing ill–her eyes were bloodshot and vacant, cheeks flushed with fever. Exhaustion was written in her expression despite the hours of sleep she'd gotten. Nico had woken her briefly during the night, to explain her part of the plan while the guards were asleep. Hopefully she was well enough to listen and do as told.
Instead of speaking, Nico stared at her intently, putting all his meaning into his gaze. He searched her eyes for understanding, and it seemed hopeless, until she nodded microscopically. Her eyes fell shut, her head rolled away, and for a moment, she was silent. Then she started screaming–a volley of shrieks, muffled by the gag. The guards rushed up, taking her by the arms and clamping their hands over her mouth. Reyna kept screeching until they undid her gag; then she spoke, her voice like a broken record.
"I need to pee. Now."
The guards groaned, their shoulders sagging.
"Can't it wait?" one asked, leaning against his spear, the point stuck in the ground.
"Now," Reyna repeated, urgency plain in her tone. And then: "Please." The word sounded forced, because it was, and not at all sincere–the guards grinned wickedly.
"Well, when you put it that way... No." They cracked up, cackling like hyenas, their faces twisted in cruel smiles. Anger shook Nico's body. Any minute, Blondie would appear over the hillside, cradling a pail of water, and the plan would fall apart. They didn't have time for these idiots. They had to leave, now.
"Unless you want urine all over your fine ceremonial platform, I suggest you let her go," Nico said, his voice low and certain.
The guards hesitated, glancing at each other questionably.
"What would your boss think if he returned to a yellow puddle–"
"Okay, okay! We'll let her use the bathroom! Shut up!" The second guard stepped forward and knelt by Reyna, working at the ropes until she was free. She stood, wobbling slightly, struggling to keep her balance.
"Don't take longer than two minutes. And don't you dare try anything." Reyna waved them off and started forward, almost tripping on the three steps to the ground. She stopped about twenty feet away beside a bush, squatting in the brush. The guards watched, their bodies still and eyes unmoving. After a moment, she stood and glanced around. Her eyes briefly met Nico's, and he shook his head.
"Hurry up!" one of the guards hollered. Fifty feet away from Reyna, their weaponry still leaned against the wall, the blades gleaming in the morning light.
Nico screwed his eyes shut, doing his best to steady his breaths despite his pulse thudding in his ears. He pictured the swords; the black of the Stygian iron and amber of the Imperial gold, the leather grips and pointed tips, the flakes of dried monster blood. The tunnel of shadow-travel appeared and disappeared in an instant, but when Nico opened his eyes, the world spun. He stumbled, nearly landing face-first in his sword. A few monsters jumped back in surprise, baring their teeth. Nico fumbled for his sword, wrapping his fingers around the hilt and swinging. The blade staggered through the air, slicing through several satyrs and a young Cyclops. Dust erupted around him, clouding the air and drawing the attention of more monsters. They charged as one, a chorus of growls and roars rising above the hiss of dissolving bodies. Through the haze of the yellow dust, Nico spotted the guards rushing towards him, spears in hand, forgetting Reyna entirely as she lumbered after them.
"Hey, you!" one of them called, pointing. "Stop right now!"
But Nico kept swinging and thrusting, the onslaught of monsters growing despite his blade cutting through them. Nico hadn't planned to defeat them all, and he wasn't going to–he couldn't have–he only had to fend them off until Reyna was within reach. It was more difficult than it should have been; his limbs ached, and every movement made his muscles scream. With every monster he killed, the less energy he had for the next–and most important–step.
He was still doing well, however, killing each monster before it could lay a claw on him. But then something new loomed above him, something he hadn't seen since he was ten, and his veins turned to ice. A pair of leathery bat-like wings flapped above a vicious lion's head, a scorpion tail flicking behind it.
Nico froze, his grip weak on his sword, as the manticore lunged. He moved a bit too slowly to the left, staggering over his own feet. The scorpion tail, poison shimmering on the tip, grazed his right forearm and impaled the ground beside him. Nico cried out, pain exploding in his arm, his sword clattering to the dirt.
"Nico!" Reyna called from feet away, maneuvering between the monsters who disregarded her. Nico fell to his knees, his fingers digging into the earth. The manticore struggled to loosen its tail, flailing back and forth. With a chink, it ripped free, and the monster approached him, raising its talons.
Nico crumpled in defeat, but before the claws could reach him, a blade peeked through its gut. The manticore's face froze in a wicked grin, then it burst into dust. The demon scattered in the wind, lion head and all.
Reyna swung her free arm around Nico's waist, lifting him onto her shoulder and taking off.
"My sword," Nico croaked, gesturing to his weapon laying in the soil.
"There's... There's no time," Reyna panted, her chest heaving as she limped forward, the onset of monsters at her heels. She twisted abruptly, Nico almost falling from her arms, and zig-zagged through a pattern of trees before stopping behind a brick wall. The monsters rushed past, growling as they chased after nothing. Reyna set Nico down and leaned against the wall, struggling to catch her breath. Nico was gasping himself, the world hardly visible behind a curtain of yellow dots. Anguish sizzled in his arm, spreading past his shoulders and spine.
"Think you can... Think you can make it?" Reyna asked weakly, not needing to whisper.
"I don't know," he answered, his voice barely audible over the noise behind them. They were both a mess–Reyna's face was an unhealthy pink, his arm was sticky with blood, and exhaustion has been eating them for days. Wouldn't it be easier to give up, to surrender to the monsters and let Gaea do as she pleases? At least that way Nico would be good for something–what can he do here, besides die of poisoning?
"We have to," Reyna said, the uncertainty clear in her voice.
"Why? Either way, we're dead," he replied woefully. Reyna shifted, moving as if the thought unsettled her.
"No. We're not. Not yet."
"Well we're going to be, soon. We failed, Reyna. We can't go on."
"You can't say that!" Nico flinched at her sudden change on tone. "You can't say we can't go on, because all you've ever done is stay in one place. You've always stopped and let sadness drown you. Has it never occurred to you, to stay ahead of everything? To stay ahead of the grief?"
"What do you know about grief?" Nico hissed, turning to look at her. Her features were blurred by the mist in his eyes. She paused, her expression unreadable.
"More than you think."
There was a silence then, no longer than three minutes, but it felt like an eon. The chaos behind them only grew when Blondie returned, screaming at the guards as the monsters continued their search.
"I'm dying, Reyna," Nico said finally, his voice tragically flat. She shook her head.
"You're not. We're going to Camp Half-Blood, and I'm sure they'll help you."
"They never did before," he mumbled. Reyna grunted and turned to him, her eyes alight with a combination of desperation and fury.
"You have to stop with the pity party, Nico. You're much more powerful than you think you are–much kinder and selfless, too. You think the reason people avoid you is because you're a son of Hades, but you're wrong. It's because you're so closed, like a locked door. If you were just a little more open, less secretive, people would like you more."
"So you're saying I should pretend to be weak?" He lowered his voice as footsteps approached the other end of the wall.
"Openness is not weakness. I'm not saying you should lose your assertiveness, just smile a little more and you won't seem like such a black hole." Irritation tingled under Nico's skin.
"You don't know what you're talking about. Be more open? Smile more? Those are awfully hypocritical coming from your mouth."
Reyna opened her mouth to speak, but Nico held up his palm to silence her.
"Most of the time when I see you, you're either frowning or scowling. You are the least open person I know, and you dare give me advice on this? You have no idea what I've been through, what's happened to me, and you have no right to tell me these things!" He slammed his fist on the ground involuntarily, and pain shot up his arm. He clamped his good hand over his mouth, his scream muffled as it came out.
They sat in silence even longer, waiting, listening for any signs that something had heard him. But there was nothing except the commotion of footsteps and roars.
"I don't know why we're discussing this," Reyna said, her voice surprisingly soft. Nico glanced at her, shocked to see tears streaming down her cheeks. She made no effort to hide them.
He sighed, slouching against the wall. The stone was rough against the skin of his neck.
"Me neither. We should be discussing our method of escape."
Reyna turned to look at him. "I thought you said we're doomed. Now you're telling me we can escape?"
"I'm not sure. But if you believe we can, I guess I have to, too."
"You know what else I believe in? Nico." She wouldn't continue until he looked at her, the air electric between their eyes. "I believe in you. I mean, not from the start. I thought you were an Underworld freak at first."
"Doesn't everyone," Nico muttered. Reyna ignored him.
"From what I've seen so far, you're more capable than I ever thought a scrawny Hades kid could be. You got us this far–with my help, of course–and I expect you to get us to the end. Do you understand, soldier?" She raised her hand to her forehead, and it took Nico a moment to recognize the gesture; a salute. Hesitantly, he did the same.
"I do." Despite the agony pulsing throughout his body and the monsters screeching not far behind them, Nico felt something–something in his gut that rose into his heart, filling his lungs with air: happiness.
"Good." Reyna lowered her hand. "Now, get us out of here, already."
Nico closed his eyes, sucking in a breath. Reyna grabbed his hand, her fingers curling into his, but he did his best to ignore it. Instead, he imagined Coach Hedge and the Parthenos–then, the green hills of Camp Half-Blood. He combined the two pictures, placing Coach and the Parthenos inside the barrier, beside the Big House. It was much more difficult than his other shadow-travels, taking longer than ten minutes for the tunnel to even appear, and twice that time for them to go through it. Reyna clutched his hand the entire time, her palm sweaty, and about halfway through, Nico pulled her into his arms. He expected her to pull away and slap him, but she didn't move other than to rest her head in his chest.
When they did get spit out, the first thing that came into view was Thalia's tree, its branches extending over them. Coach Hedge was beside them, gasping and looking around in confusion, with the Parthenos not five feet away.
Neither Nico nor Reyna had time to celebrate–they fell unconscious on the spot.