Page 10 of The Court of the Dead
Chiron threw his playing cards on the table. “I doubt it. He always disappears just as I’m about to win.”
Nico smirked. “I kind of hope he stays the way he is. It’s entertaining.” He faced Will. “You ready to go?”
Will grabbed the straps of his canvas backpack. “Ready as ever!”
“Please do be careful,” said Chiron. “I am not supposed to pick favorites among my charges, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit I have grown very fond of you two.”
Nico felt heat rise in his cheeks. “Thanks. I promise we’ll do our best.”
The activities director waved farewell. “And say hello to all our friends there for me!”
Nico waved back, and then led Will down the path toward the woods. The Cocoa Puffs followed, bumping into one another in a race to be closest to Nico.
At the edge of the forest, where the trunk of an old oak tree blocked the morning sun, they found a nice patch of darkness—perfect for stepping into the shadow world.
“Stay close, Puffs,” he said.
Grief grabbed one of his bootlaces. The rest of the Puffs formed a chain behind like they were ready to line-dance to “Old Town Road” all the way to Tartarus.
Will took a deep breath. “I’ll never get used to this.”
But for Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, returning to the darkness came as easily as thought.
He wrapped his arms around Will. Then he pictured their destination: the western entrance of Caldecott Tunnel, high in the Oakland Hills, where traffic whizzed back and forth day and night on Highway 24. Between the tunnel’s two main bores, unnoticed by mortals, stood a set of metal doors, always guarded by Roman sentries….
Nico and Will fell into shadow. The sensation was like flying blind at light speed through a sleet storm—not exactly the most pleasant thing. He worried about Will, who had never shadow-traveled this far before. Nico could feel the Cocoa Puffs dragging at his bootlace, as if they’d become heavier in the shadow world. He really hoped they didn’t pull the boot off mid-journey. Otherwise, he’d arrive in California with one shoe and no demons.
The experience was over almost as soon as it began. Nico tumbled to his knees in a stand of sagebrush. His head spun. He was dimly aware of Will crawling to one side, retching up his breakfast. The protein bar Nico had eaten earlier was also threatening to come up. The Cocoa Puffs were the only ones who seemed okay. They hopped around in the weeds, yipping excitedly, likeAgain! Again!
“Will?” Nico called.
“I’m good.” More retching. “You?”
Nico got to his feet slowly, fighting off the wooziness. “Yeah. We made it.”
In fact, Nico couldn’t have gotten them any closer. They’d appeared in the median of Highway 24, in a stretch of weeds and wildflowers right at the base of the tunnel. Just outside the guardrails, cars whizzed by in both directions. To the west, foothills sloped into the flatlands of the East Bay. Beyond that, a blanket of fog covered the bay, pierced only by the towers of bridges, and beyond that in the distance, the San Francisco skyline. The air was cool and damp, scented with the pungent tang of eucalyptus trees.
Will stood, wiping his mouth. His forehead was beaded with sweat. “Wow. That view.”
“Yeah,” Nico agreed. “But look behind you.”
Will turned. At the top of the slope, just as Nico remembered, metal double doors were fixed in the side of the hill between the concrete art deco facades of the tunnel’s entrances. The doors opened, and two Roman sentries came marching toward them. Each wore full legionnaire armor: golden breastplate, plumed helmet, red cloak, with a shield and spear in either hand and a sheathed gladius at their belt. Just your average heavily armed teenagers, strolling down the middle of a highway.
That was quick, Nico thought. He wondered how the sentries had learned of their arrival. Camp Jupiter must have upgraded their surveillance system since his last visit.
The sentries saluted in unison, thumping their spears against their shields.
“Welcome, Nico di Angelo!” called the guy on the left. He had light brown skin and curly black hair overflowing the edges of his helmet. “I am Yazan. This is Savannah. We’re here to escort you and the son of Apollo into Camp Jupiter.”
“Wow, soformal,” said Will, and then he promptly pitched forward into Savannah’s arms. She was half his size, but somehow she managed to steady Will without impaling him with her spear.
“Oof,” Will said, finding his legs again. “Sorry. Haven’t shadow-traveled in a while.”
“Y-yes,” Savannah said, blushing furiously. “Of course.”
She had a freckled face and coppery-red hair braided down to her waist. When she glanced at Nico’s feet, her bright green eyes widened. “What are those?”
Nico followed her gaze.
