Hades, the freaking god of the dead, seems to notice I am awake, and waves his hand. Suddenly, all my pain is gone, and I feel healthy and light. It is a strange power for the god of the Underworld to have. Out of instinct, I walk towards him, bow down, and mumble, "Father." I knew since I came to camp that my father was a Greek god, but now that I know, I feel oddly calm. This is my reality, this my world. My father is the lord of the Underworld, straight from the myths I heard in school, then so be it. I won't let that change who I am.
Around me, polished black obsidian walls gleam with candlelight, and the ceiling is gray stone. Webbed chandeliers hand from it, the candles casting a gloomy glow around what seems like a throne room. Doors on the wall facing me lead off into infinite corridors.
I look up, and Hades' eyes are gleaming as if he is either a genius or a madman. I suppose eternity in a cave does that to people. In the distance, I hear screaming, but I don't know what that's all about, so I ignore it for now and hope it isn't anyone I love. I notice my father has passed some of his looks down to me; the pale skin, dark eyes and black hair, but the similarities end there. His lips suggest a smile as he speaks.
"Emily Parson. I am glad to see you alive," he says, and I raise an eyebrow. His booming voice holds a hint of pride, but it's so faint it's almost inexistent. "Where was I? I mean, when I fell through the hole?" I ask warily.
"That is to remain unsaid for now, but I assure you I had nothing to do with it. In fact, if I had not ordered one of my faithful Daemons to get you out of the river, you would have drowned to death," he said in a calm tone. I frown. "Who tried to kill me? And which river? What do you mean, a demon?" Hades smiles warmly, or as warm as death can be, anyways. "What matters is that you are here now, because we must talk, even though we have little time. I suspect your… friends, are looking for you at this moment," I notice how he hesitated at 'friends'. He probably knows what it feels like to be alone, and I can relate.
"Why do you need to talk to me now? You could have just gone on ignoring me for the rest of my life and it wouldn't have made a damn difference!" I accuse. He doesn't even flinch at my biting tone. "You see, Emily, you are in danger. In greater danger than other demigods. You are wanted dead by gods and monsters alike, and as much as I would like to see my children more often, I do not wish early death upon any of them. You must stay inside the camp, keep a low profile and try not to upset the gods more than they are now, so to speak," he says to me.
"Why are they mad at me in the first place?" I question. "That is of old matters. What is important is that you do as I say if you want to live. Do you understand?" he asks, but I know he only expects one answer. I nod, and his smile returns.
"I have been keeping an eye on you, ever since you caught my attention when you first discovered your abilities, and I already know I will be proud of you," he says. I mentally picture him spying on me all my life, and think, creepy stalker dad? as I bow one last time, suppressing the urge to slap that little smile off his face. He could have saved me from the horrid cafeteria food, and… suddenly I remember.
"Father, what were those things that… haunted me at school?" I ask him. "Ah, they are old spirits who have come to haunt you, but you dispelled them for a while. Manias, you can call them. I do not know how they came to be, but know that they won't bother you anymore," he says, and then stands. "I assume you know how to shadow-travel?" he asks me. "If you mean materializing from one place to another, then yeah, I figured it out. Oh… but I've never done it very far," I realize.
"I will lend you some of my strength for your trip, but know that once you reach the upper world, the temporary blessing I have cast upon you will dissipate, but you will be fine," he says as he thrusts a hand in my direction. I feel power coursing through my veins, and know that my shadow-travel, as he called it, will work just fine.
"Beware the lake," is the last thing he tells me before I melt into the shadows, away from this place. As I travel through the cold nothingness, I think, why would I beware the lake? but it takes most of my concentration to picture my destination. I think of somewhere where I could go back to camp but without causing a scene and attracting too many people, as I doubt my fall into the void went unnoticed. As I am done picturing my destination, I feel myself landing on firm ground, but the pain is back, and I feel exhausted. Whatever gripped me in that river feels like it's clawing at my shoulders over and over again, and I can already smell blood. Whatever my father's temporary blessing was, it's gone now. My brain feels like it's swimming around in my head, and my knees buckle. I think a nice nap won't do me any bad, so I fall over to the side, close my eyes, and head into a dreamless sleep.