Page 90 of The Court of the Dead
“We are the di inferi,” said the man on the left, whom Nico assumed was Dis.
“Gods of the Underworld,” the middle guy chimed in. “We predate your Pluto bycenturies, but apparently, people forgot about us when human sacrifice went out of style a few thousand years ago. The ungrateful wretches. I am Februus.”
“And I am Mors,” said the third god. “The personification of Death.”
Nico thought that was probably the least-engaging answer he’d ever heard to the icebreaker questionSo, what do you do for a living?
Nevertheless, the presence of these three gray beings made him feel even more helpless.
“Yes,” said Pirithous, apparently reading his expression. “You see that your parlor tricks are worthless here, Nico di Angelo.” He turned toward the godly trio. “And don’t worry, Februus. We will bring back the old ways, as they were meant to be practiced!”
“I’m counting on it,” grumbled Februus. “Call me old-fashioned—there’s no sacrifice like a human sacrifice!”
His two companions muttered in agreement.
Hazel seemed to have forgotten about her sword—because conversations about human sacrifice can be distracting—but she tightened her grip on its hilt when Pirithous addressed her. “And so,Hazel Levesque, here we are.”
She scowled. “How do you know me? Why are you doing this?”
“Two questions! With answers thatshould beobvious! But let’s start with the latter.” Pirithous spread his arms, letting the sleeves of his robe spill down like inky curtains. “There is no longer any real justice in the world. We are determined to bring it back.”
Nico sighed. “What does that evenmean? You just executed our friend! And forwhat?”
“Do you deny reality?” Pirithous demanded. “Monstersare only created to cause misery and suffering—to give you so-called heroes something to prove yourselves against. That is theirpurpose. If they do not serve their purpose, they need to be corrected!”
“Corrected?” Hazel cried. “Asteriondied! Youkilledhim!”
Pirithous waved a finger in her face. “It’s remarkable howlittleyou understand, girl.”
Hazel blinked. Her gaze fell on the pile of ashes left from the bull-man’s demise. “You mean…”
Nico wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but Pirithous didn’t give him time to speculate.
“I meanthe court knows best!” he cried, eliciting a new round of applause from the gallery. “We have a plan, unlikesome. We respect tradition, unlikesome. Monsters should be feared!”
Cheers from the monsters in the audience.
“Gods should be worshipped!”
The gray trio of death gods applauded politely. Nico was unnerved to see that half a dozen other audience members were also clapping—all minor gods? Nico hadn’t been surrounded by so many deities since Tartarus. He didn’t like what that meant for their chances of survival.
“And heroes,” continued Pirithous. “Trueheroes should be rewarded!”
He bowed to his audience as his fellow judges banged their gavels and shouted, “Hear, hear!”
Hazel scowled, clearly unimpressed. “And you three—you consider yourself true heroes?”
“Of course!” said Tantalus. “In my case, the gods had forgotten their own rules of hospitality. They would not share their ambrosia and nectar. I tried, in my own gentle way, to show them their error—”
“By killing your son, roasting him, and serving him to the Olympians,” Nico recalled.
“The details are not important,” scoffed the judge. “I should have been rewarded for my piety. Instead, I was punished. A rigged trial! A complete sham and mockery of justice!”
Queen Mary nodded in her grotesque gorgon mask. “And I should have ruled over a new golden age of England. My piety was unmatched.”
“Complete with burnt human offerings,” Februus said approvingly from the front row.
“And I,” Pirithous said, “as everyone here can appreciate, was the greatest demigod of my generation!”
