-Nico-

My first encounter with Dante was the most life-changing experience that I've had in years. It felt like whatever god governs this sort of thing - Janus, probably - had dropped in unannounced, spun me around a few times, and pushed me through a random doorway, like, "There you go! Good luck!"

It figures Percy would be there. Things like that seem to happen when he's around.

The day started out pretty normal: with me watching a bunch of pre-teens and teenagers attempt to impale each other with spears. (Wooden ones, of course.) Having just demonstrated the technique, I made my rounds along the innermost ring of the Coliseum, handing out constructive criticism where it was needed and praise where it was earned.

I'd been a fighting instructor at Camp Jupiter for almost a year now, since the retirement of the last veteran, a forty-something legacy of Mars with a wicked scar and a voice that was gravelly from years of barking orders. When Reyna had suggested that I fill the position, I'd been skeptical for a lot of reasons. At twenty-two, I was barely older than some of the campers I taught, and a handful of them were taller or stockier than me. I've never trained with Lupa, and I'd never completed the obligatory ten years of service in the legion that would allow me to live and go to school in New Rome, special exceptions be damned. I was an excellent fighter, but my own training was anything but traditional or structured. And while the residents of Camp Jupiter had warmed up to the idea of accepting transfers from Camp Half-Blood, I was very obviously Greek.

It didn't take long for me to earn the legionaries' respect, though. For one, I was something of an urban legend at camp, thanks to my role in the Second Giant War. I didn't have the same level of fame that plagued the ones who were in the Prophecy of the Seven, thank the gods, but it wasn't uncommon to catch campers exchanging whispers or staring as I passed. And given that I've been fighting monsters, running off on unofficial quests, and learning from undead soldiers since I was eleven, I matched most of the older veterans in years of experience and exceeded them in variety of it. (Also, summoning the occasional guest instructor from the Underworld doesn't hurt my standing with my students. I can't be expected to master every weapon - and Alexander the Great wields a mean kopis.)

Judging by the position of the shadows being cast on the arena, class time was nearing its end. That observation made me think of my husband, with his Apollo-ish ability to tell the time by the sun. He must be rubbing off on me, I realized. Then I imagined Leo cracking a joke at my phrasing, and I huffed in annoyance. I'd been hanging out with that dirty-minded asinus too much lately.

When I pulled back the reigns on my ADHD, I realized I wasn't the only person whose mind had wandered. Several of the campers had paused in the middle of their drill and were murmuring and looking up into the stands. I turned and squinted at the lone figure in the lowest ring, backlit by the sun. He was lounging with his arms crossed against the marble parapet. When I recognized the black hair and laid-back smile, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"You're distracting my students, Jackson."

"I just stopped by to see the master at work."

This time my eyes went skyward before I could catch myself. At least I managed to keep from smirking at the compliment. I almost asked the son of the sea god how he got in here - the gates are always closed to spectators during training hours - but I didn't want to give the campers another reason to ogle at him. So I said instead, "Why don't you make yourself useful and come down here? You could be part of my next demonstration."

Percy grinned at my cavalier tone. I'm pretty sure he understood my real meaning: that I would make an example of him if he tried to butt in. "Tempting offer, but I'll pass." He pulled away from the edge of the ring and took a seat. "Just ignore me. Pretend I'm not here."

Masking my annoyed expression with a stern one, I returned my gaze to the one-hundred-and-eleven legionnaires. Most of the whispering ceased as my eyes scanned over them, but a few were still staring at Percy like they were waiting for him to cause a tsunami, or drown some gorgons with fists of water, or make a volcano erupt. Letting out a sigh of resignation, I attempted to wrangle their attention for the final exercise.

"So, what are you actually doing here?"

Percy frowned as we followed the younger demigods and legacies out of the Coliseum after class ended. "Am I not allowed to visit you during training?"

"Well, technically, no," I pointed out frankly. "How did you even get in?"

"Climbed."

I wasn't sure whether he meant over the gate or over the walls - not that it mattered. "Buffone," I muttered under my breath.

"Man, you sound just like Reyna. She insults me in Latin all the time."

"That was Italian."

"That's basically the same."

I gave him a cynical look, which he met with a cheeky smile. I scrutinized him as we split off from the campers and headed through the Forum toward the main drag of the city. The warm summer breeze tousled his already messy hair as he walked with his hands in his pockets, apparently content to observe the people flitting around the marketplace. But the stubble on his face looked a bit longer than usual, and there were faint dark circles under his eyes.

"Seriously, though. What's up?"

Percy's faint smile turned wry. "Are you expecting me to tell you that the world's ending again?"

"Is it?"

He rolled his eyes, but his mouth was twitching toward a grin. "Does something have to be 'up'? Maybe I just wanted to take a walk around the city and get some gelato with my buddy Nico." I raised an eyebrow at him, and he pouted and admitted, "I have the day off, and I was bored. Sue me."

I feigned shock. "And you chose to spend your day off with me? I'm honored."

"Well, Frank and Hazel have been really busy with Chloe now that she's walking, plus they have the next little nugget on the way. Piper is still off on that road trip with Shel. Reyna is...well, Reyna. And Leo's been obsessed with that big project of his. You know how he gets when he's working on a new design. It's like talking to a brick wall. He's even worse than Annabeth."

I'd been planning on making a witty quip about me being his last choice of friends, but the worry knitting his eyebrows made me reconsider. "How is she holding up?"

Percy shrugged, but I could tell by the way he winced that I'd hit the mark. "Fine," he said in a forced light tone. When I waited, he admitted, "Well, as fine as she can be. She's been kind of freaking out lately, being a week past the due date and all. You probably already knew that; I swear, she Iris messages Will like three times a day now. This morning she was practically cursing Hera out. I tried to get her to calm her down, but I don't think I was helping much. She sent me out to get her some gelato, and she told me to take my time. I'm pretty sure that's her way of saying, 'I love you, but I need you to get out of my face before I strangle you'."

I smiled sympathetically at the older demigod's weary tone. I'd seen all that coming, and not just because my favorite healer was keeping me posted. Annabeth had been more anxious than usual for the past eight months, ever since she'd greeted Will with a hug and he'd accidentally sensed that she was pregnant with twins, to everyone's surprise. (That had been one hell of a holiday party.) I don't think anyone blamed her for being nervous, given her complicated history with the goddess of childbirth. As my friend's smile twisted into a grimace, I tried to adopt a comforting tone. "I'm sure she'll be fine. She's got a lot of talented people looking out for her. And I don't think Hera hates her that much."

Percy nodded, but a heavy sigh worked its way out of him. He was quiet for a moment, gazing solemnly at the colonnades as we left the Forum and set off for the gelato place in unspoken agreement. I was about to ask him how he was holding up when he blurted, "It's crazy, isn't it?"

"What?"

He gestured vaguely at our surroundings. "Everything. I mean, if someone told me ten years ago that, at twenty-five, I'd be living in a miniature version of Rome, married to the woman of my dreams, and about to become a dad, I'd tell them they'd had too much Chianti." He shook his head, smiling lopsidedly. "I guess I just never thought I'd make it this far."

I laughed softly. "Tell me about it. Back then, I didn't have a grasp on where I was going to be next week, let alone in ten years."

Percy's grin widened. "Yeah. You were probably too busy trying to figure out how many hit points I had."

He snickered as I glared and punched him in the arm. "Jackass," I grumbled, fighting hard not to smile.

Roasting me seemed to have brightened his mood, because he went on in a cheerful tone, "You know, you and Will are going to have to catch up. How are our all of our kids going to be best friends if there's a big age gap? Chloe is almost two already! And Roxy is turning seven soon, isn't she?"

"First of all, Hazel and Frank got married when they were teenagers; they got a head start on all of us. And Hephaestus left Roxana on Leo's doorstep when she was three. How is that a fair comparison?"

Percy looked like he was thinking about teasing me again, but he seemed to decide against it. He starting asking me something when a distant howl cut him off. The mood snapped from lighthearted to charged as we looked toward the sound. More howls followed the first, rippling from the southern border of camp that led to Oakland Hills. Even from a distance, I could see the huge pack of Hellhounds. There must have been at least thirty of them, like a big, writhing shadow running toward the Tiber. As the other Romans scrambled to take shelter or retrieve their weapons, Percy and I shared a sober look. By now, we knew each other well enough that we didn't need to say a word. Our split-second exchange went something like this:

We doing this?

Duh. Let's go.

Then Percy grabbed my arm, and we melted into the shadows, thoughts of gelato all but forgotten.