Page 38 of The Court of the Dead (The Nico di Angelo Adventures #2)

Pirithous raised a hand for silence. “Asterion, we are here to restore the natural order of things. This court has been formed as a bulwark against exactly your sort of degenerate behavior. Living in peace with mortals? Pursuing arts and crafts? Encouraging others to abandon their gods-given nature? No! If the gods will not intervene, we will . We will remind Olympus, the Underworld, and the realm of mortals that some lines are not meant to be crossed!”

He’d clearly been practicing that speech in the mirror, and it had the desired effect. The crowd leaped to its feet (and hooves and snake trunks), cheering wildly.

Hazel gripped Nico’s leg hard. “Now!” she said.

Nico rose, and the world tilted off-balance again.

A wave of pressure rippled outward from Hazel’s seat, making Nico’s ears pop and his breath steam.

Suddenly the cavern looked a thousand times bigger—a stadium ringed with tiers of bleachers, thousands of fans packed to the rafters, screaming ecstatically.

Lights flashed and pulsated from the Jumbotron overhead. The noise hit Nico like a brick wall.

He and Will were standing on the floor of a massive concert, ten rows from the stage rail—about the same distance as they’d been from the judges’ bench.

And on the stage, a band was rocking out.

Two guitarists traded screaming electric leads.

The drums thundered. The bass quickened Nico’s heartbeat.

A row of background singers danced in matching blue sequined dresses.

And in the center of the spotlights, a balding man with a white goatee and a blue silk suit sat at the piano, his hands flying across the ivories as he howled into his microphone. “I am an innocent man!”

Will froze. “This—this is Madison Square Garden!”

Nico tugged his hand. “Will, come on!”

“That’s Billy Joel!” Will said. “My mom opened for him once!”

“That’s great,” Nico said, panic rising in his throat, “but we’re not really here. We need to—”

“Right,” Will said, swaying in place. “My mom is…” He frowned. “Actually, I think she’s got a gig in San Francisco this week. Huh. But Billy Joel at the Garden!”

Under different circumstances, Nico would have been happy to indulge Will in an imaginary concert or hear about Naomi Solace’s music career. But they didn’t have time right then.

He gripped Will’s hand tighter and pulled him toward the stage, weaving around monsters and spirits who had suddenly found themselves at a different kind of spectacle.

In a stroke of genius, Hazel had given the crowd imaginary smartphones, which monsters normally never had.

They were ignoring everything—Nico and Will, the stage, their neighbors—as they held up their phones to snap the perfect selfies, wave their flashlights, or capture video footage they would never watch again on their tiny screens.

Nico and Will made it five rows up before the illusion began to flicker.

For a split second, they were back in the mortal courtroom, charging toward the judge’s bench as a lawyer droned on about insurance limits.

Then they were back in the Court of the Dead, the three masked judges all on their feet, Pirithous screaming, “Stop this! Who is doing this?”

Asterion turned toward Nico and Will, and his eyes widened. “My friends?”

Then they were back at the Billy Joel concert, pushing through a mass of dancing fans who blocked the aisle.

Nico drew his Stygian blade. The dark iron smoked whenever the lights hit it.

A wave of nausea rolled through him. It was too disorienting. He couldn’t think. But they had to be close to Asterion, and Hazel couldn’t keep up this illusion much longer.

“There!” screamed Pirithous, pointing in Hazel’s direction. “Get her!”

The stage was now a jumble of realities.

Queen Mary was standing on the mortal judge’s bench.

The Cyclops-at-arms was dancing with Billy Joel’s backup singers.

Tantalus had gotten into a fistfight with the lawyer from the civil trial, and Pirithous was trying to extricate himself from the drummer’s wind chimes, which had gotten tangled in his robes.

Pirithous pointed right at Hazel again, who was exactly as Nico had left her—in her seat in the court, her eyes closed, her lips moving as she muttered an incantation.

The Mist formed an aura around her, much like the Iris-message of a tessera.

She was the only fixed point in the chaos of sounds and images.

The red-robed skeletons noticed her. They lowered their twin-pronged spears and advanced.

“Will, hurry!” Nico pushed forward—and ran straight into Asterion’s chest.

“Nico di Angelo!” Asterion said with both shock and joy. “Will Solace! You found me!”

“Someone stop these intruders!” Tantalus shouted. “Now!”

Nico brought his blade down on Asterion’s chain. Iron sparked against iron. The restraint didn’t quite break, but it was weakened enough for the bull-man to snap it with a tug of his arms. His limbs were still shackled together, but at least he wasn’t anchored to the floor anymore.

Will began to glow. “Asterion, we’re gonna get you out of here.”

Unfortunately, one of the red guards had turned in their direction. He marched toward them while his companion continued to advance on Hazel.

Before Nico could think up a plan, the ghost with the tricorn hat flew at his face. “How dare you interrupt this proceeding! Do you hate justice ?”

Nico grabbed him by the throat, which shut the ghost up. It had probably been centuries since a mortal had been able to make physical contact with him.

“I’m the Ghost King,” Nico said. “You don’t scare me.”

The spirit howled as he dissolved into smoke.

Nico felt pretty proud of himself until he heard Asterion grunt in pain behind him. He wheeled to find the bull-man on his knees, his hand pressed against a newly opened gash on his head, and the Cyclops-at-arms standing over him, her spiked club glistening with blood.

“No!” Will’s glow factor surged until he was brighter than the spotlights. The Cyclops roared and staggered, momentarily blinded, but even on a wild swing, her club was too big to miss. It caught Will’s shoulder and spun him around like a top.

“Will!” Nico rushed toward him, but it turned out that yelling wasn’t a good idea when a half-blind Cyclops was trying to pinpoint your location.

The monster’s club swept Nico off his feet.

He hit the floor, the breath knocked out of him.

He looked up to see the Cyclops about to smash him in the face, when Pirithous shouted, “HOLD!”

Nico rolled to one side. He struggled to his feet. The backs of his legs where the Cyclops’s club had connected felt like they’d been gone over with a meat tenderizer. He limped over to Will, who was just sitting up, clutching his shoulder.

The Cyclops scowled. She was clearly displeased at not getting to bash Nico’s head in, but she continued to loom over them, just in case Pirithous changed his mind.

One of the red-robed guards now stood with his spear pointed at Asterion.

The other guard was prodding Hazel toward the bench.

The Puffs had disappeared—perhaps fled to the safety of Will’s backpack.

The concert illusion had evaporated, as had the vestiges of the mortal courtroom. That left only Pirithous’s court, which was fast becoming Nico’s least-favorite reality.

Tantalus ripped off his satyr’s mask and leered down at the defeated demigods.

“Heroes,” he growled. “I thought I was done with your kind! Why are you always so annoying ?”

Nico gripped the hilt of his sword. He calculated the odds of breaking through the crowd, but with his injured legs and Will’s injured shoulder, it was hopeless. Plus, the guard on Hazel was keeping his spear only inches from her back, and Nico had seen what that weapon could do.

Queen Mary tutted in disappointment. “ Heroes should know better than to interrupt our righteous proceedings. What do you think you’re doing, young fools?”

“Trying to free our friend!” Will said.

Tantalus laughed. “ Friend? That is the Minotaur! He nearly killed one of your actual friends a few years ago, did he not?”

“Enough!” called out Pirithous. “Suzanne, if any of these hooligans acts up again, you have permission to knock their brains out.”

The Cyclops-at-arms grinned. Somehow, the name Suzanne suited her. Up close, Nico could see that her lip gloss matched Asterion’s blood on her spiked club, which was some next-level color coordination.

“The spectators shall be seated and quiet!” Pirithous continued. “Or I will clear the court!”

The assembled monsters began to settle, some of them grumbling that they didn’t get to hear Billy Joel finish his song.

Asterion remained on his knees, listing to one side as he kept pressure on his head wound.

Hazel met Nico’s eyes, silently asking What now?

But Nico had no answer. Hazel looked drained from controlling the Mist. Will’s shoulder was probably dislocated at the very least. None of them were in any shape to fight an entire court. Maybe if Nico could stab Suzanne…

“Ah, Nico di Angelo,” Pirithous chided. “I see your devious mind at work. I warn you, do not test the court’s patience. You are even more outnumbered than you realize.”

He gestured at the front row. The only spectators still standing were three humanoids in gray robes. In fact, everything about them was gray—their skin, their eyes, their hair, their long, curly beards. They might have been carved from granite.

Nico had no idea who they were, but he didn’t like the way their stony faces sized him up, as if thinking of all the interesting ways they could dismantle him. He also didn’t like that there were three of them. Trios in the world of myth were always powerful, usually deadly, and sometimes godly.

Pirithous nodded with satisfaction. “Good. You begin to appreciate your situation. Never fear, Nico di Angelo. You will have your chance to testify. The Court of the Dead might even show leniency to you and your glowing companion, if you choose to cooperate. After all, you have brought us the criminal we wanted most!”

Nico assumed he meant Asterion. Then he realized Pirithous was smiling at Hazel.

“Praetor Levesque,” said Pirithous. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Nico felt like the floor had dropped out from under him.

Hazel looked stunned. “What did you say?”

Pirithous chuckled. “You don’t remember? No matter. This court is well acquainted with your crimes. A daughter of Pluto, harboring fugitives from the Underworld!”

Asterion struggled to rise. “You will not harm my friends.”

But Suzanne was more than a match for his strength. She pushed him back to his knees.

Mary Tudor sniffed in disgust. “Why is the Minotaur still here? Haven’t we sentenced him to death yet?”

Tantalus frowned. “I suppose we haven’t. All in favor?”

“Death,” agreed Pirithous.

“Death,” confirmed the queen.

“NO!” Nico yelled.

But it was too late. The red-robed guard jabbed his spear at Asterion, and the bull-man began to crumble and smoke.

“Asterion!” Will sobbed.

The bull-man clutched at his chest, as if that might stop the process. His large brown eyes gleamed with pain, but he managed to speak: “Th-thank you for trying, my demigod friends. You have given me faith that…that, one day, those like me will be accepted.”

Then a web of fire raced across his body, and the gentle giant disintegrated into ash.

Nico’s vision blurred with tears. He couldn’t bear the weight of his despair. Another friend gone. Taken from him. And he had just let it happen.

“Nico!” Will cried. “Nico, look at me.”

He couldn’t. He feared that once he looked at his boyfriend’s face, his entire world would shatter. He heard Hazel crying nearby. The smell of cinders cloyed his nostrils.

Asterion was gone. Gone.

“Nico, please .”

Will cupped Nico’s jaw with his good hand and gently turned his face. Will’s eyes swam with tears, but there was a fierce determination in them, a light that refused to go out.

“We will get out of here,” he said. “Believe it.”

“Touching,” Pirithous muttered. Then he motioned for the other judges to take their seats.

“Moving along,” Pirithous continued, “as we have several more cases on the docket before we can break for lunch.” He gave Hazel another cold smile.

“We thank Will Solace and Nico di Angelo for the gift they have brought us—this architect of depravity, who is even more responsible for the breakdown of the natural order than Asterion! Her punishment will help our cause in ways you can’t even dream of. If my colleague would do the honors…”

Mary Tudor gazed upon Hazel with a resolute smugness, and then she pulled a scroll from her robe.

“Hazel Levesque,” she said, a blood-chilling smirk on her face, “your trial begins now.”