Page 18 of The Court of the Dead (The Nico di Angelo Adventures #2)

N ico sat on the edge of his bunk in the guest barracks while his Puffs piled next to him on the comforter.

“I’ll be outside,” said Will, his face radiating calm and love. He planted a soft kiss on Nico’s forehead. “Just tell him what you told me.”

Then he was gone.

Nico reached into the pocket of his bomber jacket.

He pulled out a crystal pendant he carried for Iris-messages and tied it to the frame of the upper bunk, where it dangled and spun, catching light from the overhead fixture.

Rainbows danced across the walls. He fished a golden drachma from his other pocket.

It would be late at Camp Half-Blood, on the opposite side of the country. Fortunately, as far as Nico knew, Olympian gods didn’t keep any sort of regular sleep schedule.

He tossed his coin into the rainbow light, making his plea as the offering disappeared.

“Show me Camp Half-Blood,” he said. “Dionysus.”

The air shimmered. The camp director’s face appeared bathed in a blue glow like he was watching TV in a dark room. His attention was clearly fixed on something other than the Iris-message.

“Come on!” Mr. D yelled. “ That’s who you’re voting for? What about the alliance?”

“Hey, Mr. D,” Nico said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Mr. D glanced over, apparently unsurprised by the call. The god’s face looked puffy and haggard, his expression disgruntled, but that was pretty much how he always looked. “Let me give you some advice, Nico di Angelo. Don’t ever get into Survivor . It represents the worst of humanity.”

“I…don’t really watch television. So I should be good there.”

“You’re blessed by the gods, then. Because it’s currently ruining my life.”

Mr. D waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. There was a muffled BANG! Pieces of glass and plastic sprayed across the god’s room as the blue light was extinguished. Apparently, Mr. D didn’t just turn off a TV when the programming annoyed him. He made it explode.

“What’s on your mind, Nico?” he asked.

The god’s expression was still very irritated. Nico hoped he could be more interesting than Survivor . He didn’t feel like being exploded tonight. Nevertheless, he forged ahead. His hands were trembling. “I think I need help.”

“Of course you do,” Mr. D said. “You are a demigod. A teenager. Part human. You will always need help.”

“Wow, thanks for telling me. Totally new information.”

That made Mr. D smile. “I do love your sarcasm, Nico. So what’s up?”

He took a deep breath. “Well—”

“Hold on.” Mr. D cut him off. “Do I need some popcorn? Is this that kind of talk?”

Nico couldn’t control it. He burst into tears.

Mr. D’s expression sobered. He said nothing, and just let Nico sob.

Nico felt so angry with himself, so ashamed .

“I’m sorry.” His voice quavered. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“Nico, when have I ever asked you to apologize to me for expressing something?”

He wiped his cheeks furiously. “Never.”

“So why would I start now?”

Nico was always amazed how quickly Dionysus could change his demeanor.

One moment, he was the flippant, apathetic camp director they all loved to hate and hated to love.

The next moment, he was this guy—the former human being who understood the most fractured mortal emotions and was willing to listen as Nico talked about them.

“I just…I guess I didn’t realize how much Camp Jupiter was affecting me.”

“What’s happening over there? Does Bacchus need to make an appearance? Because I have no problem smiting Romans.”

The idea of Mr. D’s Roman alter ego appearing out of nowhere and turning all the misbehaving legionnaires into dolphins or grapevines did have a certain appeal, but Nico shook his head.

“No, it’s not like that.” He gave Mr. D a quick summary of their first full day with the legion. “These mythics, as they call themselves—they’re an interesting bunch. Asterion, an empousa, a karpos, an eidolon, a blemmyae, a griffin.”

Dionysus nodded thoughtfully. “I threw a dinner party like that once. And the reaction of the legion?”

“They’re either afraid of the mythics, or making fun of them, or both. I understand that this is a strange experience for everyone, but I don’t know what to do with it all!” He fell silent. “It’s reminding me of what it was like when I first came to Camp Half-Blood.”

Mr. D smiled. “I remember those days. I used to joke with Chiron that you were a feral child and we were the first civilized people you’d ever been around.”

“Are you saying I was like a wolf ?”

“No. More like…what’s that other territorial pack animal? A nerd . I know Bianca did her best looking after you, but you showed up here and quoted wildly erroneous card game stats to my face.” He sniffed disdainfully. “As if I wouldn’t have been the most powerful god in that deck.”

Nico laughed. It felt good, like the jagged pieces inside him were starting to mend. “You’re still bitter about that?”

“Bah. Aren’t we here to talk about your emotions?”

“Fine.” Nico took a moment to refocus. “I think one of the things that bothered me most…There’s this new legionnaire Savannah. She reacted really badly to Arielle, the empousa.” Nico explained what had happened on the Field of Mars.

Mr. D frowned. “A panic attack.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’m curious why that in particular bothered you, though.” The god’s face loomed larger in the prismatic curtain of light. “As much as I tease you about that whole Misty Magic obsession—”

“Mythomagic.”

“I’ve already forgotten what you just said.

My point is, you came to us primed to believe in the world of demigods, gods, and monsters, Nico.

Whenever you were presented with mythical creatures, you always accepted them, no matter how terrifying they might have been.

For some young demigods, however…it’s not so easy.

They’re raised to believe the world is one way.

Then they come to Camp Half-Blood and have to contend with a truth that doesn’t fit what they already know.

Camp Jupiter is much the same, if not more difficult. ”

“I guess I never considered that,” said Nico.

“That’s where we come in,” Mr. D continued. “It’s our job to help newcomers adjust—we counselors and directors and elder demigods.”

“Elder?” Nico grimaced. “I know I was born in the last century, but I’m technically still a teenager, remember?”

“But to someone like Savannah, you are an elder.”

Nico sat back on the bed. “That’s a good point.”

“One day, you’ll realize those are the only kind of points I have.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “One day, I’ll learn that you can’t be serious for more than three seconds.”

“I still want to know how you’re feeling,” Mr. D pressed. “You broke down crying a few minutes ago. Then you started talking about other people instead of yourself.”

Nico’s face flushed. He spotted his Cocoa Puff Shame, who looked like a hairless cat made of shadow, sticking its head out from under the comforter.

Nico scratched its big ears and let a flood of memories wash over him: stealing glances at Henry as they played Mythomagic, wetting the bed his first night alone at boarding school, running into the woods after screaming at Percy Jackson.

“What’s going through your mind right now?” asked Mr. D.

“Shame,” Nico admitted.

“About?”

Where to even start? Nico wondered.

“The mythics feel unwelcome. The demigods are scared and suspicious. Hazel and Frank are barely holding everything together.”

“And you feel responsible,” Mr. D guessed.

“I came here to help,” Nico said. “What if I disappoint Hazel? What if I let Asterion and his friends down? I want to show everyone they can overcome their fears and coexist. All I’ve managed to do is make things worse.”

Mr. D thought for a moment. “You’re putting the blame entirely on yourself?”

Shame coursed through Nico again, though he was no longer petting the cacodemon. “No, but…I feel like I’m getting buried by this. All my old trauma is getting dredged up again. I can’t see past it. I thought I wouldn’t feel these things anymore.”

Dionysus wagged a finger at him. “Perhaps that’s the problem, Nico. None of us—not even us immortals—gets to experience an existence without emotions. We gods might feel things differently than you do, but we still feel them. Have you never seen the wrath of a god?”

“Sure. Plenty of times.”

“Have you not also seen grace? Or sadness? Or despair?”

“I have.”

“I know I joke a lot in our sessions together,” said Mr. D, “but the truth is, I’m not trying to wipe away your past trauma.

That would be impossible. I’m trying to give you the tools to deal with all the skatá píta that life throws at you, if you’ll excuse my Greek.

You’ve already done so much work. Look at the little blobs, for example.

Your inner demons are now your best friends, aren’t they? ”

Nico gazed down affectionately at his snoozing Cocoa Puffs. “They are.”

“You have your whole life to take care of yourself,” Mr. D said softly.

“This isn’t like a demigod quest, where you seek out an item, solve a puzzle, defeat some horrible creature, and then it’s done .

You’re doing this every day, every moment of your life.

In the same vein, you can’t expect to create world peace between demigods and mythics in a matter of hours.

Perhaps you shouldn’t race toward a finish line that doesn’t exist.”

Nico sighed. “I hate it when you’re helpful like this.”

“I can go back to bullying someone one millionth of my age if you’d like.”

“Gods, yes. Please do that.”

Mr. D chuckled. “Keep me updated, Nico. Now if you’ll excuse me, I simply must find out who survives the quest for fire. Prometheus could never .” He glanced at where his TV used to be. “Hmm, and it appears I must also remember how to create a new television set. Good-bye!”

After the Iris-message faded, Nico lay back on the bunk bed, his emotions still churning like kicked-up river sediment. It was strange to think about how much his relationship with Mr. D had changed over the last year. It wasn’t a bad strange. Just…different.

He knew Mr. D was right. He needed to be patient, and not so hard on himself, but that didn’t make the discomfort go away.

Loneliness scooted over, examining Nico with its single big eye, and then it snuggled against his chest. Nico pulled it close, letting images from his past drift by like the current around a canoe. He wondered if everyone else struggled as much as he did. Maybe…but it sure didn’t seem that way.

He slipped deeper into his memories.

He didn’t even realize when Will came back into the room until he felt his boyfriend’s weight sink onto the bed next to him. Nico opened his eyes.

Will gazed tenderly at him, and then at Loneliness cuddled in Nico’s arms. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Nico let go of the Cocoa Puff. It scurried back to the demonic cuddle puddle on the comforter.

“A little better,” Nico admitted. “But I could use a hug.”

“Favorite tool in my arsenal,” Will said with a smile.

Will held him in a warm embrace, and Nico really did feel better because of it.