Page 110 of The Court of the Dead
His other option was in New Rome. He felt a pang of sadness as he looked at the city’s gleaming white streets and red-tiled roofs. He missed Percy and Annabeth, who were so very close to him right now. They’d know what to do. They’d be willing to help in a heartbeat.
But Percy and Annabeth had made it to college. They deserved a life beyond battles and quests.
Nico turned back toward Temple Hill. He chided himself for his indecision. Had heeverbeen a burden to his father? If Nico wanted Hades to act more like a regular dad, Nico needed to treat him more like a regular dad.
Nico hurried south. It was a clear day, but as he got closer, he noticed a single dark cloud hanging over Temple Hill. He didn’t know what that meant—maybe a portent from his father? Or Jupiter. Or any of the dozens of other gods with monuments there. He wondered if they had to use a scheduling app to get their portents on the calendar.It’s my turn for a storm cloud! I booked today for a flock of ravens! No, Tuesdays are rainbows!
Nico climbed the hill, past altars, monuments, and statues of Roman gods who all seemed to follow him with their eyes. It seemed so long ago when Nico had shadow-traveled to Pluto’s shrine, cheating his way out of the Fifth Cohort’s morning run. Strangely, he found it more difficult to find the place on foot. He took a wrong turn at the shrine of Juventas, and then he had to double back and follow the Path of the Nine Muses until he reached his destination—the modest dark mausoleum built into the side of the hill. As always, Nico admired the roof covered in bones and diamonds. He wondered if he could get a pair of boots to match.
At the entrance, he hesitated. He still remembered falling asleep in front of those double doors, dreaming of a voice from the Underworld.Go home, Nico di Angelo! Keep aiding and abetting criminals, and we’ll find you guilty as well!
But now he knew that voice belonged to Pirithous. And he was not going to let some arrogant dead guy in a Halloween mask keep him from his father’s altar.
Nico had every right to be here. He had come to seek help for Hazel, another of his father’s children.
He pushed open the doors, and light rushed into the dark space. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The space was no bigger than a walk-in closet. Unadorned pine walls supported a barrel vault ceiling of rough-cut stone. A single bench with red velvet cushions faced a small altar made of black marble.
He approached the altar and found a few offerings covered in cobwebs: a smooth gray rock, a pile of silver denarii, and a desiccated pomegranate. The last one made him smile. He hoped his stepmother, Persephone, was doing well.
Nico had given a lot of thought about what to offer. Sacrifices were important if you wanted to get a god’s attention. He doubted Hades would settle for a gray stone from his son, like,Hi, Dad. I saw this rock and thought of you.
Nico needed something much more personal, more precious to him. He lifted his arm and stared at the gash on the sleeve of his bomber jacket. Maybe it was time to say good-bye to an old friend. He took off the jacket, folded it, and set it on the altar.
“Dad, Lord Hades, Pluto…”
Off to a great start, Nico told himself.You’ve named your dad three times.
He sat on the bench, trying not to feel exposed in just his T-shirt and jeans. “I hope you know how much that jacket means to me. It’s been with me through…well, pretty much everything. It’s like half my personality at this point. I hope it shows you how much I need your help.”
He took a deep breath to settle his jangling nerves. Savannah was right. Thiswasn’teasy.
“I don’t know what to do,” he continued. “I don’t know where Hazel is. Ithinkshe’s still alive, but I don’t know for sure. I’m pretty sure she’s in trouble. And it’s eating away at me.”
Unsurprisingly, Nico was met with silence, but he didn’t let that stop him.
“I know you’re busy,” he continued, “what with running the Underworld and all, but I’m hoping you can listen. Maybe even offer me some advice. I just…I want to know there’s hope, and we’re not doing all this for nothing.”
A gentle breeze blew through Nico’s hair.
“It’s not for nothing,” said a deep voice behind him.
Nico turned. His father was standing just inside the doors. His black hair was cropped short, accentuating the gauntness of his face. His diamond tie pin seemed bigger than the state of Rhode Island. In his sharp black wool suit and glossy black leather shoes, he looked like an usher at a funeral.
“Father.” Nico rose. “You’re…you’rehere.”
Hades raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to sound quite so shocked. You did make an offering and summon me.”
“Well…yes. But you’ve never shown up before.”
Hades gave him a thin smile. “Perhaps you’ve never offered me such a fine jacket before.” He spread his arms. “Come here, son.”
Not quite believing what was happening, Nico crossed over to Hades, and the god pulled him in for an embrace. His father smelled of pine and wet earth. He held his son for a long time. Nico felt as if a thousand new Cocoa Puffs were forming inside his stomach.
At last, Hades released him. He gripped Nico’s shoulders and studied his face.
“It is good to see you again so soon,” Hades said. “After your mother died…well, as you know, I spent too long away from you and Bianca. I thought that was best for your safety, but I was wrong. That distance…it made me bitter, indifferent, disconnected. If I am to remain the one who oversees the Underworld, I must do a better job of staying in touch with the world above. I would like to make a habit of more frequent visits with you.”
Nico swallowed back the lump in his throat. He’d never felt so close to his father, but the feeling was undercut by what Hades had said:If I am to remain the one who oversees the Underworld…That seemed like a darker portent than any storm cloud.
