Page 32 of The Court of the Dead (The Nico di Angelo Adventures #2)

T he entire group had to talk Nico out of leaving for San Francisco immediately.

They sat around the desk in the praetors’ office—along with Frank, who had indeed been indistinguishable from Anger when they woke him up—and commiserated about how annoying thief goddesses were, and how much they wanted to find Laverna Shirlius, chain her up, and force her to listen to Vitellius Reticulus’s war stories for the rest of eternity.

“First, we need to get some rest,” said Will. “We can’t go into the city exhausted.”

Hazel examined the laminated ID card. “Plus, the courthouse is not going to be open at four in the morning. I suppose we could sneak in, but it’ll be easier to poke around unnoticed when there are a lot of regular mortals around.”

Nico sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Frank took the ID card from Hazel. He scowled at the goddess’s photo. “So, we think this lady has been stealing our mythics and…what? Taking them to San Francisco Superior Court to try them for misdemeanor trespassing?”

“I don’t know,” Nico admitted. “Laverna said she was bringing them before the judges, her masters . She said these judges were even more powerful than she was, and they were putting the world to rights.”

Semele drifted behind him, her smoke curling around the legion’s eagle standard. “I have existed for three millennia,” she said. “Anytime someone says they are putting the world to rights…they are not.”

Nico sat back in his chair, and a half-dozen Puffs jumped into his lap. “I don’t like any part of this. I was excited because we’d actually gotten some information. Now I have a thousand more questions.”

Will ran his hand through his blond curls. He seemed to have come through his pyrotechnic outburst with nothing permanently singed or seared. “Later in the morning,” he said, “we’ll head into the city together. We will figure this out.”

“It should be you three,” said Frank. “Hazel, Will, Nico. I’ll stay here and hold the fort.”

Hazel put her hand on his forearm. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “We have no idea what Laverna or these ‘judges’ might do now that we’ve thwarted their latest attack. One of us needs to be here to reassure the legion and keep our guests safe. You know word about what happened in the principia is going to spread faster than that cold did last month.”

“We will help you!” Johan promised.

Right on cue, he and Orcus both sneezed. It was probably just from the dust in the archives, but Nico made a mental note to take some vitamin C. The last thing he needed was some Roman respiratory virus.

Hazel frowned at Frank. “Fine,” she relented. “But I’m joining Nico in the I don’t like any part of this club.”

Nico smiled. “You can be the vice president.”

Will stifled a yawn. “Well, I’m the president of the Please can we get some sleep club, and membership is mandatory, Nico.”

“I’ll stay up a bit longer,” said Frank grumpily. “To make sure there’s no other activity. Besides, I already had my sleep.”

Hazel gave her boyfriend a kiss. “That was not your fault.” Then she faced Will and Nico. “Meet you two in the mess hall by nine?”

Nico did the math on how much sleep that would get him. A ridiculously small amount plus not enough equaled it was going to be a long day.

“Okay.” He stood and stretched. Exhaustion crept into the edges of his awareness. Even Jealousy yawned at his feet. “Come on, Puffs.”

Nico headed out of headquarters, his Puffs trailing after him. From behind them, Will laughed.

“What?” Nico demanded.

“You’re like the Pied Piper of Darkness.”

Nico rolled his eyes, though deep down, he kind of loved that idea.

Nico was not surprised by his dream. He found himself in the dark room again, unable to move in his chair, facing a backlit door with someone incessantly knocking to get in. This time, though, Asterion, Quinoa, and Arielle stood in front of him, frowning like an interrogation squad.

“Why couldn’t you protect me?” Arielle complained.

“All I wanted was a better life,” Quinoa said.

“I even knitted you a cap,” Asterion said. “So much for demigod promises.”

Nico woke with a start.

Daylight streamed through the barracks windows. In the next bunk over, Will slept peacefully, his chest rising and falling ever so slowly. The Cocoa Puffs snoozed in a pile at Nico’s feet—except for Guilt, who had snuggled into the crook of Nico’s arm.

That probably explained the dream. Even if it was only his own guilt finding a voice, it made sense that Nico would imagine the mythics blaming him for their capture, reminding him of how badly he had failed.

That didn’t unsettle him too much. Yes, he felt guilty, which was only natural. His friends had been kidnapped. More of them could be taken in the future. Anyone would be worried about that.

Instead, he was curious why his demigod brain kept spitting out this same nightmare about the dark room and the unknown presence knocking at the door.

Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? Was an actual god or daimon trying to get his attention?

A sense of dread kept building inside him, no matter how much he tried to sweep it away. A voice in his head whispered, You’ve already failed—you just don’t know it yet .

He was a demigod. The son of Hades! Had he ever faced a quest he couldn’t complete?

And yet now that this mythics dilemma was starting to feel like an actual quest—go to the courthouse, find and rescue his friends, beat whatever baddies had abducted them—Nico was starting to wonder if this would be the first quest he’d fail.

He was tempted to wake Will and tell him what he was feeling.

But no. He couldn’t disrupt Will’s chance to get a few more winks.

Instead, he tried to calm his emotions. Breathe, Nico , he told himself. Don’t let your thoughts run wild.

He tickled Guilt’s smoky belly. Its spider legs kicked in the air.

Memories flooded Nico’s mind. Marching into Manhattan with his father to join the battle against Kronos; fighting the giants at the Acropolis side by side with Hazel; saying good-bye to Bianca and realizing what an impact her heroism had left on the world.

They were not memories of guilt, exactly. They were memories of times he’d worked through guilt and turned it into pride .

Nico studied the sleeping Puff. “What are you trying to tell me?” he whispered.

Guilt cooed and growled in its sleep.

He didn’t understand what was happening with the cacodemons.

They were changing, communicating in more ways than just their signature emotions.

But that mystery would have to wait. He got up quietly, trying not to disturb Will or the Puffs.

He gathered some spare clothes and a towel and slipped outside to visit the Roman baths.

The baths were easily his favorite thing about Camp Jupiter. He hadn’t had time to visit them yet, but he figured if he was going into San Francisco today on a rescue mission, he might as well get cleaned up first.

Even after a long night, most of the legion had already risen, eaten, and gone to their morning drills, so Nico had the place pretty much to himself.

First, he showered in one of the waterfall rooms, which the local naiads kept circulating at the exact right temperature.

Nico wasn’t sure how, but the shower’s steam changed its scent to be the most relaxing for each particular guest. For Nico this morning it was fresh frittelle—the fried donut balls his neighborhood pasticceria used to make in Venice when he was little.

From there, he risked a plunge in the frigidarium—cold, very, very cold—nearly scalded himself in the caldarium, and then sat soaking in the tepidarium, admiring the vaulted mosaic ceiling as his muscles unknotted.

It wasn’t until then that he realized how much the sound and presence of water calmed him these days.

His breath work and meditation sessions with Mr. D had always taken place on the shore of Long Island Sound.

The baths were totally different, of course, but the water still brought him a sense of tranquility.

That was what Nico needed: to calm his mind, which wanted so badly to run wild like a pack of telkhines.

He closed his eyes and disappeared into his own head. Flashes of his nightmare tried to fight their way forward, but he pushed them aside. What had Mr. D said about him earlier that week?

You’re not used to being still .

In the past, Nico would’ve tried to dismiss the idea by making a joke.

Now, finding stillness in the swirling water didn’t seem so overrated.

Nico had been running his entire life: from his childhood in Italy; from the deaths of his mother, then Bianca, then Jason; and from Titans and gods and dead emperors. Then there was Tartarus….

Would he ever get to just rest ?

He heard voices echoing in the baths. Apparently some of the cohorts were coming in to wash up after their morning drills. Soon the place would be too full for his liking, so he quietly made his way out of the water. He changed and headed out into the crisp Bay Area morning.

It looked like a normal day at Camp Jupiter.

Cohorts went through their usual routines.

Lares floated down the street, criticizing legionnaires for dress-code violations or regaling anyone who would listen with stories about Back in the Day.

But Nico could tell something was different.

Maybe it was the way campers greeted him as they passed, nodding with respect.

By now, they all must have heard what had happened last night.

Some complimented him on his bravery in the principia.

Others asked if Will was still on fire, or strangest of all, how “our friends” the mythics were doing.

The legion had come together at last and decided the mythics weren’t so bad.

All it had taken was a common enemy that was even scarier.

Nico still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.