Page 28 of The Court of the Dead (The Nico di Angelo Adventures #2)

N ico had never seen a blemmyae cry before.

Johan’s large pectoral eyes were red and puffy as he staggered across the front porch. Tears streamed down his rib cage. In his arms, he held the limp form of Hazel.

Nico’s heart slammed on the emergency brake. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Will rushed forward and helped Johan lay Hazel on the porch.

“She’s breathing,” Will announced.

Nico’s muscles unfroze. He ran to his sister’s side. She lay motionless, her hair spilling across the whitewashed boards, her face set in a look of mild consternation, like she was having a stress dream.

“Good pulse,” Will said, then gently inspected her head. “No contusions. No visible wounds. She’s just…unconscious.”

“The others,” Johan sobbed. “The others are inside.”

“I should go check.” Will glanced at Nico. “Stay with her?”

He could only nod. Will and Johan disappeared into the mythics’ quarters.

Nico cradled Hazel’s head in his lap. His nerves felt like the tesserae—hot, overloaded, and fuming. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to sob or scream. His Cocoa Puffs, who had shadow-traveled with him, now circled Hazel warily, sniffing her clothes like she smelled of rival cacodemon pheromones.

Hazel’s eyes fluttered open. “Wh-what—?”

“I’ve got you,” Nico said in a broken voice. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Nico heard shouting and the clanking of armor coming from the direction of Camp Jupiter. Frank Zhang was running toward them at impressive speed, followed by two archers.

Hazel struggled to sit up. “What happened? I—”

“Take it easy,” Nico urged. “Do you remember anything?”

She rubbed the side of her head. “I—I was sitting on the sofa, waiting with Yazan and Maynard. I’d pulled the Mist around us to hide, and then…did I fall asleep?” She straightened. “Is everyone okay?”

Will emerged from the quarters, propping up Yazan, who limped along at his side. Orcus flapped around them, squawking with concern. “Will he be okay? Can I help? Yazan, don’t die!”

“Chill, little buddy,” Yazan said groggily. “I’ll be fine.”

Johan appeared next, with Maynard Thee Faun in his arms. Maynard looked perfectly fine, but he seemed to be enjoying the free ride. He was in the midst of regaling Johan with his adventure of falling asleep on the couch. “And then, dude! I, like, passed out or something! That couch is comfy!”

Last came Semele, her smoky gray form thicker and darker than usual.

Frank and his archers finally reached the porch.

“Hazel!” he gasped.

“I’m okay,” she assured him.

“What happened?” He glanced around at the motley group, like he would accept answers from anyone at this point. “You heard that voice?”

Hazel exchanged a confused look with Yazan and Maynard. “What voice?”

Then, because things weren’t confusing enough, Terminus decided to join the party. With a BANG! and a flash, the godly statue appeared in a column of smoke like a low-budget magician.

“NOBODY PANIC!” he announced. “I AM HERE!”

“A little late,” snapped Semele.

The god glowered—which Nico knew was his default expression.

From the waist down, Terminus was a rough-hewn block of white marble.

From the waist up, he’d been sculpted as a curly-haired, muscular man with no arms. Whenever he moved, he reminded Nico of a magician trying to wrestle their way out of a straitjacket for the gathered crowd.

“Save your criticism, eidolon!” said the god. “I was just summoned to twenty different sentry points at the same time. It’s a miracle I didn’t shatter! Now, where’s the intruder? And please don’t tell me, for the twenty-first time, that there isn’t one!”

“There isn’t one,” said Semele. “At least not anymore. We all passed out—even me, and I didn’t know I could pass out.”

“There was a voice,” Frank said. “I think all the other sentries heard it.”

He repeated what the Christmas witch had said over the tesserae.

Johan looked at him blankly. “We did not hear this.”

“Which means the actual intrusion probably happened here,” Terminus said. “And the other sentries were victims of some kind of magical distraction—decoys to keep my attention divided until it was too late.”

Nico shivered. “That presence felt very real. If it happened simultaneously, everywhere we had sentries stationed…What kind of being has that kind of power?”

“A minor god, obviously,” said Terminus. “At least a level six. No one else could outmaneuver me this way! When I get my hands on whoever it was…”

Everyone politely ignored the fact that Terminus had no hands. Nico was also pretty sure minor-god power levels weren’t a thing.

“I’ll ask the obvious question,” Terminus continued. “Is everyone accounted for?”

Nico scanned the group. Each person’s face reflected their own shell-shocked expression. Then a collective sense of horror seemed to settle over them as they turned to look at the large empty rocking chair on the porch, and realized who was, in fact, not accounted for.

“Asterion!” Nico and Hazel said in unison.

They led a mad rush into the mythics’ quarters.

The bull-man was gone.

His room reminded Nico of a monastic cell—walls of gray sandstone, a hard-packed dirt floor, no windows, no furniture except a straw mattress and a basket of Asterion’s knitting supplies.

Asterion had spent so much of his time at Camp Jupiter knitting, yet none of his finished products were here.

Apparently, he’d given them all away as soon as they were done.

Nico’s heart ached. He realized the room was meant to look like part of the Labyrinth, Asterion’s old home and prison. He wondered if the resemblance had brought the bull-man comfort, or if it was simply part of his traumatic history that he couldn’t yet shed.

Johan paced the room, wringing his hands and muttering “No, no, no, no.”

Semele floated above the mattress, her smoke still thick and roiling.

Orcus let loose a screech of pure misery. His small feline tail whipped back and forth.

“He was seven feet tall!” wailed the griffin. “He weighed as much as one of those car things! How can he just be gone ?”

Nico had no answer. He could still smell the scent of Asterion’s hide, feel the warmth of his last embrace.

“So, do you finally believe us?” demanded Semele. “We are being taken !”

“I didn’t disbelieve you before,” Hazel said, though she didn’t seem able to muster much conviction.

“Hmph,” said the eidolon. “In any case, we’ll be leaving at first light. Orcus, Johan, gather your things.”

“What?” asked Frank. “Why?”

“You know exactly why!” snarled Semele. “Someone is kidnapping our family , and you are not able to stop it!”

Nico racked his brain. He couldn’t let things end like this—with half the mythics taken, the other half fleeing. Asterion wouldn’t have wanted that.

He thought about what had happened tonight—the voice from the tesserae, the sensation he’d felt at the Caldecott Tunnel, the way his cacodemons had reacted just beforehand.

He looked down at the Cocoa Puffs, now bouncing around the room as if they sensed nothing amiss….

“One more night,” Nico blurted out. “Please, Semele.”

“Why should we?”

“Because we’re close to cracking what’s happening,” Nico said. “I know what to do now.”

“Bah!” the eidolon scoffed.

“I would like to hear the boy out,” said Johan. “ Before we make a decision.”

“Johan,” Semele said, “I know you have a fondness for these demigods, but—”

“Why can’t we just listen ?” pleaded the blemmyae.

Semele’s smoke turned pale. It dawned on Nico that Johan had actually interrupted someone…which seemed impolite. Nico was so proud.

“You forget that I am your elder,” Semele said, her voice taut. “I existed hundreds upon hundreds of years before you were even a thought in the universe. If Asterion really is gone, then his authority as leader of this little group passes to me.”

Johan dropped his gaze. “Yes, of course. I apologize…but could we please just listen to him? Thank you.”

Orcus flapped his wings. “I agree with my big-faced friend!”

Semele muttered something in a language Nico didn’t recognize. Ancient Minoan? Phoenician? Dead languages could be useful when you wanted to insult someone.

“Very well, Nico di Angelo,” said the eidolon. “Tell us what you know, and we will decide if it is worth the risk of staying here another night.”

Nico glanced at Will, who nodded at him encouragingly.

“My cacodemons,” Nico said. “Just before Asterion’s disappearance, they began to panic. They kept trying to get my attention.”

“I saw it,” confirmed Will. “They’d never acted like that before.”

“A moment later,” Nico went on, “I sensed a presence—like something cold and unfriendly, washing over me.”

“Yes, we’re aware an invisible force infiltrated your camp,” Semele said bitterly. “That is not comforting to us.”

“Hold on.” Hazel looked at Nico with newfound interest. “How long was it between when the Puffs sensed the intrusion and when you sensed it?”

“Only a few seconds,” Nico admitted. “Still…”

“They could serve as an early warning system,” Hazel said.

“A what ?” Semele asked.

“That’s kind of brilliant,” Will said. “If this god-level thing comes back tonight, and if we keep the Puffs with us…”

Frank nodded slowly. “Then we’ll know when it’s about to strike. We can be ready this time.”

Semele muttered another curse in ancient whatever-it-was. “I’ll remind you that here , where the abductor actually struck, we felt nothing.”

“But you didn’t have the Cocoa Puffs,” Nico said.

“Even so, this force was powerful enough to put all of us to sleep, including me ! None of your lookouts knew what hit them. Why would next time be different?”

Hazel winced, clearly hurt. She’d been working with Asterion since the mythics first arrived. They’d become good friends. Nico imagined the bull-man’s disappearance, and her inability to stop it, was tearing her apart inside.

“Speak, Praetor,” Semele urged her. “Do you have a solution?”

Hazel took a deep breath. “Maybe so…Nico, you felt that cold presence before the other demigods did?”

“By a few seconds, yeah.”