Page 28 of The Court of the Dead
“Lavinia Asimov at your service,” she said. “Except you’re atmyservice today, pumpkin!”
She tap-skipped over to Will’s bunk. “And you, Blondie—you’re a son of Apollo, aren’t you? You should have no problem rising at dawn.”
“I’m in the wrong time zone for that,” Will muttered.
“Well, you’re on Lavinia Time now.” She popped her chewing gum. “If you’re not dressed in full gear and outside for your morning run in five minutes, you’re going to be tap-dancing to ‘I Got Rhythm’ until you’re ready to perform it for the whole legion!”
She danced herself right out of the barracks.
Will frowned. “Did I just hallucinate that?”
Nico shook his head. “I don’t think she was kidding about ‘I Got Rhythm.’ ”
“It’s okay. We can handle a morning run.” Will yawned. “A little physical activity never hurt anyone.”
Nico admired his optimism. Personally, he considered mandatory physical activity almost as intolerable as his own PTSD, but he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
During the night, a set of armor and fresh clothes had appeared at the foot of his bunk. He frowned as Will gathered up his own supplies and padded into the restroom, whistling “Look What You Made Me Do.”
Nico got dressed. He scowled at the armor, which he really didn’t want to run in, but when Lavinia saidfull gear, he was sure she meantfull gear. He tried to dress quietly so as not to wake the Puffs, who had somehow managed to sleep through Lavinia’s tap dancing and were still nestled in the blankets on the bunk above Nico’s. If Nico couldn’t sleep in, at least his demons could.
As he strapped on his cuirass, he thought about the conversations he’d had yesterday. He now understood the challenges Hazel and Frank were facing, even if he wasn’t sure how to help them. No matter what kind of reputation Nico and Will might have had, they couldn’t just make a speech before the senate and the legion and sayBe nicer to the Minotaur and his friends!They couldn’t force the two groups to get along. That was going to require time, patience, and hard work. The best Nico could hope for was to set a good example, but he wasn’t sure he was the best model for getting along with others.
The mythics’ dilemma had also dredged up memories from his trip with Will into Tartarus. In the Underworld, Will had been a lot like the mythics were here in Camp Jupiter—out of his element, uncomfortable, and scared. He had struggled to accept the fact that Tartarus was more complicated than he’d thought it was.
But Will had listened. He’dchanged, and so had Nico. Now he couldn’t imagine life without the Cocoa Puffs. He would move mountains and stars for Bob the Titan. Incredibly, he even had a few fond memories of Tartarus. Some of the best people he knew were “monsters.”
Nico’s mind latched onto the wordpeople. Had he ever referred to living beings who weren’t human as people before? Maybe…But could the Roman demigods ever come to accept the idea that Asterion and his friends were more than enemies to fear? That they were people just like them? He hoped so. But first, Nico would have to prove he could do a morning run without falling on his face.
Suddenly, Will was standing before him in full armor, his shoes laced up. “Ready, my grumpy ball of darkness?”
“I guess,” he said. “How are you still so cheerful?”
Will flashed a bright smile and then caressed Nico’s cheek. “I’m with my favorite person! Let’s find our tap dance instructor.”
Outside, the sky was still dark—just a touch of gray light silhouetting the eastern horizon. As far as Nico could tell, none of the other cohorts were stirring, but the Fifth had all turned out, bleary-eyed and bedheaded. There were about forty demigods in the cohort—not a lot compared to an ancient Roman cohort, but a healthy number for modern times, especially considering the casualties the legion had suffered in its recent battles against the Titans, giants, and evil emperors. Hazel was right: clearly, the legion had replenished its numbers rapidly in the last few months.
Nico only recognized a few faces. One of the lieutenants in front was a brown-haired kid named Thomas something-or-other. Floating behind the ranks, in glowing purple armor, was one of the cohort’s companion ghosts, Vitellius Reticulus (nicknamed Vitellius the Ridiculous), who had yelled at Nico many times in the past. Other than that…all new. Members of the Fifth Cohort had a habit of either getting promoted or dying.
Lavinia grinned as Nico and Will walked up. Her shoes had changed from tap flats to sneakers, but they were still bright pink. “Good, the sleepyheads decided to join us!”
The other legionnaires eyed Will and Nico suspiciously. Maybe, like Will, they were wondering whether they were hallucinating.
“All right, Fifth Cohort!” Lavinia swept her hand toward the south. “To Temple Hill and back! Move!”
The cohort broke ranks and stampeded down the Via Praetoria.
Will winked at Nico. “Race you there!” He sprinted after the legionnaires, moving remarkably well in his heavy armor.
Lavinia squinted at Nico. “You waiting for a special invitation, pumpkin? Your boyfriend has a sizable lead. You’d better get going unless you really love dancing to George and Ira Gershwin!”
Nico bit back a retort. He could’ve told Lavinia that he’d been alive when the Gershwins wrote their best, but he didn’t want to sound like Old Man di Angelo. He jogged after the crowd, huffing and puffing as Lavinia sang “I Got Rhythm” somewhere behind him in the darkness.
He’d just reached the gates of the fort when a thought occurred to him:The darkness.Oh, right. Darkness was kind of his thing.
He ducked into the alley behind the First Cohort’s barracks.
He took a deep breath, imagining the Romans’ shrine to his father, aka Pluto. It had been a while since he’d visited it, but he could still picture the small building clearly. He stepped into the shadows, felt a brief rush of cold, and emerged about a mile to the south, on a crushed-stone path halfway up the slopes of Temple Hill. Before him stood Pluto’s shrine: a mausoleum partially sunk into the hillside, its roof encrusted with bones and precious jewels.
