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‘Let’s never tell anyone about this,’ said Will.

‘Oh, most definitely not,’ said Nico.

‘Meow.’

Small Bob began walking towards the swamp, stopping halfway there to turn back and mewl at Nico and Will.

‘I think he wants us to follow him,’ said Nico evenly.

‘I think I’m dreaming,’ said Will. ‘Did Epiales just give us a fever dream?’

Nico didn’t answer. The two of them slowly followed Small Bob into the swamp, leaving Gorgyra’s boat behind.

The blisters on their skin had begun to heal, but Nico picked at one of them as they trudged through the muddy undergrowth. Even with no sun in the sky above, the swamp felt just as muggy as a summerafternoon in Manhattan, when all the heat got trapped in between the buildings and cooked the people down below. Sweat poured down Nico’s face constantly, running into his eyes and stinging them.

It was clear Will wasn’t doing much better. His skin had fewer blisters on it, but it had returned to its previous waxy sheen. Nico had to slow his pace so Will could keep up, and even then Nico wasn’t sure how much longer Will was going to last.

The swamp was dense, dark and oppressive. The greenish haze was gone, but high in the mangrove trees there was a yellowish mist that smelled of sulphur. The water below was a deep brown colour, and all sorts of slimy creatures slithered away from them.

Small Bob kept a much faster pace, darting so far ahead that Nico often lost track of the cat until they managed to stumble upon him, and then he’d bound away again. Nico knew he should be more vigilant about what awaited them in the swamp, but exhaustion was beginning to numb his senses, too. He heard things rustling nearby, yet he didn’t look. It felt like something was close behind them, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn back. He moved forward, one pained step at a time, because if he stopped, if he hesitated, he would simply cease moving entirely.

They walked for hours. Nico soon had to grasp Will’s hand and tug him along. They stepped over gnarled roots and trudged through thick mud that threatened to hold them in place. The swamp hummed with a terrible energy. Was it the creatures who hid in the darkness? Or was it a sign that they were trampling through a living thing, an organ or another part of Tartarus that was just as alive as everything else?

‘I wish Small Bob could talk,’ said Will, breaking the long silence. ‘So he could tell us how much further we have to go.’

‘You’re doing well,’ said Nico. ‘Every step we take brings us closer to Bob.’

‘How come those boneheaded weirdos could talk but not Small Bob?’ Will said, continuing as if Nico hadn’t spoken. ‘Like, where’s the justice in that?’

Nico chuckled. ‘Yeah, that does seem pretty unfair.’

Will started to say something, but he snapped his mouth shut.

‘What is it?’ asked Nico.

He squeezed Nico’s hand weakly. ‘I love you, Nico,’ he said, and his voice shook on Nico’s name.

Tears sprang to Nico’s eyes. He could hear the pain in Will’s voice. ‘I love you, too.’

‘I don’t mean to get sappy in the middle of the most cursed swamp in the whole universe.’

‘You totally do.’

Will nodded. ‘I one hundred percent do,’ he said. ‘I have to.’

Nico tugged him forward again. ‘Why?’

Will hesitated, then said, ‘Because I can feel it all slipping away.’

Nico froze, and Will’s boots sloshed in the wet mud. ‘What?’

‘I don’t know how else to describe it,’ he said, his lips moving slowly. ‘It’s like … like who I am, and what I’ve done … it’s hard to remember.’

Nico could feel his own exhaustion pulling at his bones, beckoning him to remain still, to drop to the ground.

But he couldn’t give in to it. Not after all this. Not with Will in this state.

‘Come on,’ said Nico. ‘We have to keep going.’