Page 142

‘Do you do anything similar?’

Nico hopped up on a fallen tree, then pulled Will over it. ‘No, not really,’ he said. ‘Father’s not the sentimental type.’

Will was silent for a moment. ‘I was asking more about your mom.’

The comment shocked Nico so much that he misstepped and his foot landed in a pool of freezing-cold muck. He shook off his boot.

‘Sorry,’ said Will softly. ‘I’m not trying to pry. I’m just curious, since you don’t, um, talk about her all that much.’

Nico felt a brief flash of irritation, but this time he pushed past it. Will wasn’t being obtuse or rude about Nico’s past – he genuinely seemed to want to know more about him.

So Nico smiled at his boyfriend. ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘It’s justthat … well, I didn’t get much time with her before Zeus killed her.’

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought –’

Nico held out his arm and stopped Will. ‘But I do have memories of her.’

He told Will about his most recent dream, explaining that the memory at the heart of it made him feel loved. ‘I sometimes have to remind myself of that,’ he said. ‘That peopledidlove me when I was younger.’

Will seemed to chew that over in his mind. ‘Because it’s harder for you to remember that when things get dark, right?’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s more or less it.’

Small Bob meowed at them, as if he was saying,Stop being sappy and follow along!

So they continued, doing their best to avoid the sharp, angular stones in the forest, as well as the mysterious puddles of lightly glowing liquid. Will asked more questions. Did Nico’s dream bother him? Why did he think Nyx or Epiales changed it the way it did? Did he have other nice memories of his childhood?

‘Sure,’ said Nico. ‘Some are easier to recall than others. It’s hard, though, because sometimes I feel like all that was so long ago.’

‘Because of the Lotus Hotel?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think that’s it. When I started talking to Mr D about the whole PTSD thing in the summer, he told me it’s actually really common for those of us who are dealing with it to feel as if our lives happened to someone else.’

‘To someone else?’

‘It’s a way for my mind to protect itself, basically. If it happened to someone else, it’s not as painful to me. I don’t have to relive things like … well, you know.’

Will clutched Nico’s hand. ‘You don’t have to say it. Let’s just stick to positive memories while we’re here, okay?’

‘Deal,’ said Nico.

Hand in hand, Nico and Will walked through the forest, trading stories, reminding each other that there was a world above them where they had friends, where they were loved, where they had something to return to.

Nico was thankful for this because it allowed him a temporary distraction from a fact that was creeping into his awareness.

He was certain that something dark and shadowy was following them again.

The landscape changed. Over and over again.

The trees thinned, and a low, cool mist settled over a long plain of brown and sickly-green grass. It reminded Nico of staring at Long Island Sound: the water seemed to go on forever. Yet this plain was motionless, and it slanted downward just enough that he felt like at any moment he might slip and then slide into the deepest part of Tartarus.

Nico pressed on through the grass, following Small Bob. His calves ached first. Then his head. He couldn’t even settle into a rhythm that allowed him to mindlessly follow Small Bob. It was as if Tartarus wanted to make sure that any being who dared to traverse his body would be exhausted with every step.

And for Will it was worse.

He lagged behind at times. His natural glow had been extinguished, and he was once again back to looking like he’d been dipped in wax. At one point, Nico ordered him to stop and eat some ambrosia.

That was when they discovered it was the last piece.