The next morning, Althea was nowhere to be seen. Nico scanned the room, searching for other people, but he was alone, the beds and chairs unoccupied. His arm was newly bandaged and the plastic bin had been washed, but other than that, it was as if Althea had never came.
Nico sat up, and miraculously, no nausea hit him. Light filtered in through the windows, warming Nico's head. He could just barely see through the one in front of him–burnt logs were strewn across the ground, plastic cups and wrappers scattered among them. No one had bothered to clean up, which might have meant it would be forced on him.
He pushed himself to his feet, standing for the first time in six days. Almost immediately his knees buckled, and he stumbled face-first into the wall. His legs had gone numb, leaving him struggling to the door, gripping furniture for support. It took him almost three minutes to just reach the knob, and by then, some of the feeling had returned, his feet prickling sharply whenever he stepped.
There was close to no one out. A few satyrs roamed, munching on the bonfire litter. A tree nymph and water naiad chatted in the woods. The only other demigods were clustered around the Athena Parthenos, feet away from Thalia's tree. They donned light armor–leather breastplates and steel helmets–and clutched thin spears, and they didn't so much as glance at the forest; their eyes were set on the horizon, far off. Nico could tell they weren't concerned about monsters, but about the thousands of Romans, heading their way.
Most of the guards were children of Ares, recognizable by their rough features and scowls. Clarisse La Rue was in front of the group, her stringy hair pulled back in a ponytail. She gripped her spear so tightly Nico thought it would snap. The majority of them he didn't recall–newcomers, maybe–but Reyna was among them. Her dark hair was damp and smoothed into a braid, and she'd lost the unhealthy pinkness of her skin. Her eyes were clear and stern as she gazed out over the hill, not so much as blinking.
"Reyna," Nico said, startling the guards. They turned, their features hardening at the sight of him, some tightening their hold on their spears. For a moment, they just stared at him, unmoving. Then Clarisse stepped forward, her face growing in a false grin.
"Well," she said, her voice strained, "if it isn't di Angeleave. Got tired of running away?"
A few of the guards snickered. Reyna kept staring, her expression unreadable.
"I need to speak with Reyna," Nico put calmly, forcing his mouth into a straight line.
"The Roman?" Clarisse shook her head. "She's just here so the army recognizes her and doesn't attack us."
"Don't you think they might assume you took her captive and are holding her prisoner when they see her?"
"Not when they see her with us, they won't. Nice nightgown, by the way." More snickers. Nico unclenched his fists, trying to relax himself.
"I need to speak with Reyna," he repeated. "It's urgent." Without waiting for a reply, he took Reyna by the arm and led her away from the group, out of earshot.
"I see you're not that big here," she said, setting down her spear and stretching her arms.
"When you think they'll be here?" He gazed at the hills stretching beyond the camp, the sun peeking over them.
"Couple days," she sighed, her shoulders slumping. It never occurred to Nico how hard it must be for her–watching her own army lead itself to attack her very quest, thinking she was kidnapped, or worse.
"How did they–what does the camp think?"
Reyna hesitated, picking at her bottom lip with her teeth. "There was a camp meeting while you were out. Mostly everyone was there. They wanted to keep the Parthenos and attack the Romans, but I talked some sense into them. Now they're willing to negotiate. But they say if the Romans attack first, they'll fire back."
She paused, seeming to consider what she wanted to say next. "And, they took the news about Camp Jupiter a little harshly. Called us traitors to their kind." Her eyes glinted and she looked away, obviously not wanting Nico to notice. He pretended he hadn't.
"Did you tell them I was there?" he asked.
"Nico, a lot of things came up and–"
"Answer me."
Reyna closed her eyes. "Yes. I told them you were there for a few months."
"So that's why they're treating me like trash."
"That's ridiculous. They aren't..." She trailed off, peering at the guards a few yards away. They glared at Nico as if he were a criminal. Clarisse rested her hand on the Parthenos, stroking it like it were a pet.
"Don't they know who got that stupid statue in the first place," Nico said, more of remark than a question. The sky was brightening, and more campers were appearing. They walked right past him without so much as a wave.
Reyna sighed so loudly it seemed like a statement itself. "There's another bonfire tonight. If you want, you can come. Might be the only chance you have to clear your name."
Nico considered this. He'd only ever been to a bonfire twice, and both times he stayed in the shadows, not speaking. Getting up and addressing himself in front of everyone didn't seem ideal, but if it stopped the nasty looks, it was worth a try.
"Fine," he muttered. "Anything to get those idiots to stop giving me the evil eye."
Reyna didn't respond. She seemed to be in another time, her eyes distant, subconsciously wringing her hands. They were less than a half-foot apart, the skin of their arms nearly touching. Nico could feel her body heat, waves of warmth emitting off her. Yet they seemed so far apart, as if an invisible wall were separating them.
"Listen, Reyna," he started slowly. "About what I said earlier, when we were behind that wall. I didn't mean to–"
"What? No." She stepped back, the wall between them growing. "It has nothing to do with–"
"Hey, Roman!" Clarisse called. "Break's up, get back here!"
Reyna scowled, a gesture Nico hadn't seen since nearly a week ago. "I suppose I should go–gods knows what happens when she's angry." She picked up her spear, jabbing the butt into the dirt as she returned to her post. She said something to the guards, to which Clarisse responded loudly with, "Deal with it."
Nico felt suddenly exposed in her absence. The hospital gown fell only an inch or two past his knees, leaving his bony white legs on display. He was barefoot, his feet caked with mud, his hair was a matted mess, and a fine layer of grime had settled on the skin of his face. Obviously, no one had bothered to wash the rest of him during his unconsciousness. He couldn't say he blamed them–he smelled worse than centaur manure.
He made his way to the showers, keeping his head low. Even with his eyes down, he could feel the stares of the campers, burning into his skin like an animal brander. They laughed and pointed fingers, and he wished he could summon an army of skeletons to drive them all away, but he did his best to ignore them.
The warm water soothed him. He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing out the dirt and dust, and scrubbed his injured arm. The wound seemed to be healing–the swelling had gone down, and the deep purple skin had turned a light pink.
When he stepped out of the shower, there was a mirror on the wall in front of him. He stared at himself in it; his eyes were foggy, the skin underneath them thin and dark. His cheeks were hollow, the shape of his face gaunt. His skin had turned to a ghostly gray, his ribs were in plain sight–he looked like a skeleton. He'd become what his father was–what he was fated to be. Nico wanted to smash the mirror, to put his fist through it and send hundreds of tiny pieces of himself scattering across the floor. He settled for spitting on it instead.
He'd left his clothes laying on the rocks by the lake to dry after washing them. They were still damp, but he put them on, relieved to be back in his familiar skull T-shirt, jeans and aviator jacket. He still had his sword sheath, but his sword was still back at the traitors' ceremony. He missed having it by his side, gripping the hilt when he was nervous or afraid. Not wanting to prance around unarmed, he 'borrowed' a Celestial bronze sword from the shed behind the Ares cabin.
The rest of the day was spent sitting on a log, waiting for the bonfire. Nico had found Coach Hedge, lounging in the forest, flirting with nymphs. The Coach hardly acknowledged him, just gave a quick nod and continued to brag about how he "bravely killed everything in their path."
Nico had wanted to take a nap, but the Hermes kids were using the Hades cabin as a miniature golf course, so he'd laid down on a fallen tree trunk behind the bushes. Through the leaves, he could see the Apollo children playing volleyball, their skin as golden as the sun. He thought of Blondie and the other demigod traitors, working for Gaea, and wondered if Percy and the others would encounter them. The more he thought about the Argo II, sailing across the world and fighting monsters, the less he wanted to be here, at Camp Half-Blood, uselessly lying around. All he could do was stare at the sky, watching the sun shift and clouds move.
When night finally came and the bonfire started, Nico stayed at the back of the crowd, watching the flames go up through shoulders and necks. People laughed and sang and talked, drinking fruit punch and hot chocolate, huddling around the fire like moths to light. Even Clarisse danced a little with Chris Rodriguez, her face lighting up in a smile Nico had never seen before.
He and Reyna seemed to be the only ones not having fun. She stood by the opposite side of the fire, arms crossed tightly across her chest, stiff as a board. Neither of them moved or said anything until Mr. D, the camp director, stepped up onto a stump and tapped his wine glass with a spoon. Quiet spread across the area, a few people whispering and shuffling around.
"I'd just like to congratulate the success on recovering the great Athena Parthenos," he started. "I understand the Romans are heading this way as we speak, leading an army of thousands against us, hoping to annihilate our kind. They misunderstand us, foolishly thinking we are the enemy. They have no reason to attack us." A string of boos aroused, cut off almost immediately.
"And yet they are. Normally, we'd set up a brigade and fire cannons and arrows upon them, stopping them before they could set foot on the hill. However, we've been... convinced to show mercy and attempt to negotiate using the Athena Parthenos, offering them that in exchange for our safety." His eyes drifted to Reyna. The campers looked at her, all wearing different expressions.
"A Roman praetor seems to have abandoned her troops, stealing the Athena Parthenos and bringing it here, possibly in attempt to frame us. Although now, she has proposed her help, begging us to show her soldiers kindness. Despite her betrayal to both sides of this conflict, we've chosen to forgive her. Personally, I respect her ability to see what is clear and her choice to surrender."
Reyna reddened, her eyes blazing and fists quaking with anger. With each word Mr. D spoke, Nico's veins sizzled, his head throbbing with fury.
"This Roman also seems to have brought along our long-lost Hades friend and a new satyr–two more lazy creatures to sit around while we do the heavy lifting." Snickers were tossed around the group, and someone nudged Nico harshly in the shoulder. He fought to keep his mouth shut, his heart pounding in his chest.
"But that is not the point. When the Romans appear, we will hesitate, notifying them of our gift and our deal. If they still choose to attack, we will counter, and we will win. We will prevail!" The campers repeated it, We will prevail! floating around the bonfire and disappearing with the smoke. Mr. D stepped down, sipping his hot chocolate, and just as the chatter started to rise again, Nico ran to the stump and jumped onto it.
"Listen, everyone!" he hollered, quickly getting everyone's attention. "Few things what Mr. D claimed were true: the Romans do misunderstand us, but not in the way you think. At Camp Jupiter, their home, the Seven demigods of the Prophecy were... visiting, I suppose you could say. One of them, a Greek, was possessed by spirit of Gaea's as I understand, and was forced to fire upon them. They think we are the traitors, and only want to exact their revenge, to get back at us for destroying their camp."
A chorus of boos rose up, so loud Nico had to pause. "That's not any better!" someone shouted.
"And Reyna is not a traitor, in any case," he proceeded. "She didn't steal the Parthenos–it was found by Annabeth, who fought off the monster Arachne to get it. She and Percy Jackson fell into Tartarus because of it, and I was given specific orders by them to deliver it here. It's not a spoil of war, or a gift–it's an ancient artifact, and we intend for it to mend the rivalry between the Greeks and Romans."
"The Romans are traitors!" a small, brown-haired boy yelled. "They want to kill us–all of us!"
"Only because, like Mr. D said, they think we're the enemy. But they're not fools; I'm almost certain they'll accept our offer and work with us to defeat the real enemy: Gaea and her giants. They do have a reason to attack us, and we have a reason to defend ourselves, but that doesn't mean we should. That would only result in hundreds–maybe thousands–of lost lives on both sides. That would give Gaea what she wants. Is that really how you want it?"
More boos, possibly louder than before, erupted around Nico. A little girl, no older than six, stuck out her tongue at him. Reyna rushed up to the stump, holding up her palms, and stepped up beside him.
"He's right!" she bellowed, her voice thundering. The noise was instantly cut off, and the crowd jumped back in surprise. "You all look at us and see only traitors, but we have seen what real traitors look like. There are demigods conspiring against us, working for Gaea. We'd been captured, intended to be sacrificed to awaken her, and are lucky we escaped. The Athena Parthenos was brought here by us, from the Argo II, as commanded by the Seven; I witnessed what happened at Camp Jupiter. I did not abandon my troops, nor surrender to you–I simply have the capability to see what is right, and if I do, I am certain they will to."
Reyna paused, waiting for a reaction, but there was only silence.
"This camp claims to be reasonable, though what I have seen and heard during my stay here proves the exact opposite. Nico and I, along with Coach Hedge, have brought you a chance at peace, but you look only to violence. Negotiation with the Romans is not mercy–it is common sense, but you all are too blinded by your own camp to see that. This camp is not reasonable–it's unjust!"
There was an unsettling silence after she finished, as if the campers were deciding something Nico couldn't hear. They looked stunned, with open mouths and wide eyes, and for a moment, Nico thought they finally agreed.
Then the boos exploded, and him and Reyna were pelted by plastic cups, most of them full.