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Hypnos took their reins and led them away, as Otis loomed over Nico. The giant’s huge hands wrapped around the demigod’s ribcage and lifted him from the ground, but Nico was too tired, too scared to resist.

‘Did you bring it?’ Otis asked his brother.

Ephialtes scoffed. ‘Of course I did. What kind of giant do you think I am?’

The Big F snapped his Big Fingers. An enormous bronze jarpoofedinto existence on the gravel path. As Ephialtes prised open the lid, Nico realized the jar was just the right size to fit … well,him.

‘Thanks for making this so easy, kid,’ Otis said, lifting him over the mouth of the jar. ‘I can’t promise this won’t hurt.’

‘Goodbye, Nico di Angelo,’ Nyx called. ‘You may not remember our meeting. Your tiny mind may crack under the strain of what you have seen. But if you somehow survive … it will be delicious to see what you become.’

Otis stuffed him inside the jar, and Nico’s hand closed around the pomegranate seeds that Nemesis had given him. Had she known this would happen?

Maybe she’d been part of the trap – the trap that would end them all.

The idea that his friends might try to rescue him brought him no comfort. As Nico was sealed in the darkness of the bronze jar, only one thought persisted in his shattered mind:

I failed them all.

After Nico finished his story, there was a long silence in the trogs’ council chamber.

Will stared at some faraway place as he absorbed what he had just heard. The trog councillors frowned at one another, as if wondering who would be brave enough to speak first.

Nico felt exposed and vulnerable. He had never planned to share what had happened to him after getting dragged to Tartarus; it was simply easier to bury it deep within his mind. And, in fact, there were parts of it he had forgotten, just as Nyx had warned him might happen. Maybe his mind had done that to keep himself safe, but as he recounted the story, it all came back in terrifying detail.

Maybe that whole PTSD thing had a lot more merit than he’d previously accepted.

He reached in his pocket. His trembling fingers touched the coin from Will. Usually, this gave him a reprieve from his grief and pain, if only temporarily, but this time it wasn’t enough. When the tears spilled and his body shook, Nico turned to Will and cried into his shoulder.

Nico wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. He imagined Will would’ve held him for an eternity if that’s what he’d needed. But after his initial burst of sorrow, Nico began to feel self-conscious, aware of the trogs waiting around the table. He pulled away and wiped his face.

‘Okay, okay,’ he said. ‘No more feeling sad. It is what it is.’

‘You’re allowed to have feelings, Nico,’ said Will. He was doing that concern thing again, where he knitted his eyebrows together. ‘What you went through … That wasa lot.’

‘I have to move past it if we’re going to reach Bob.’

Screech-Bling scratched at his powdered wig. ‘So it is Nyx we have sensed? She has begun to stir?’

‘But why now?’ Howl-Smith gave Nico a resentful glance. ‘We just moved in!’

Hiss-Majesty clicked reproachfully at Howl-Smith. ‘It is not the son of Hades’s fault. He has always helped us!’

‘Yes,’ agreed Shriek-Vibes. ‘And I’m sure he will help us now – with answers, will he not?’

The trogs all looked at Nico, their large amphibian eyes full of anxiety. Nico wanted to help, but he feared his suspicions weren’t going to make them feel any better.

‘You think it’s all connected,’ Will guessed. ‘Nyx starting to stir. Our quest to find Bob. Because that’s what all this is leading to, isn’t it? You think she’s imprisoned him somehow. My question iswhy?’

Nico studied the rough stone tabletop. ‘I’m not sure you’re going to like my answer.’

‘Please try,’ said Will.

Nico took a deep breath. ‘I think … Nyx’s whole purpose in life is to shape things into their purest possible form – personifications of a single negative emotion, or feeling, or state of being. Look at her children, for example: Keres, the god of violent death. Geras, thegod of old age. Eris, the god of strife. Nemesis, god of retribution. Akhlys, god of misery.’

‘Sounds like a real party,’ Will grumbled.

‘And we met another one earlier – Epiales, god of nightmares.’