Page 53 of The Court of the Dead (The Nico di Angelo Adventures #2)

H azel was thinking about secret weapons.

She wished she had one.

Arielle had collected several reports from newly arrived mythics, all of whom claimed that Pirithous had bragged in court about his power over the gods.

Supposedly, he had something that made him unbeatable.

He relished the chance to make Pluto appear and put the lord of the Underworld on trial.

Unfortunately, details were scarce about what this secret weapon might be.

Hazel guessed that was what made it “secret.”

Still, thinking about it was not helping her headache.

The situation in the park was becoming dire. What had once been scattered groups of mythics was now one giant crowd, as if a concert were about to start at the band shell. The air was humid and stale. Everyone was brushing up against one another. Tempers were short.

Hazel watched from her bench as a centaur shoved an empousa out of the way at the central fountain. She fell into the damp basin, while a harpy swooped down and raked the centaur’s back with her sharp claws.

“That’s my friend!” the harpy screeched.

“Then tell her to get out of my way!” the centaur shouted. “I’m just trying to find water.”

The empousa stood, her fangs bared. “We’re all trying to find water, pony boy! Push me again and see what happens.”

“Everyone, calm down!” bellowed Asterion, wading into the conflict. “Please, I know it is frightening and confusing in here, but we are close to a solution. We cannot turn on one another now.”

The crowd grumbled in response, but no one directly countered the bull-man.

He crossed over to Hazel and knelt in front of her. “How are you feeling, Praetor?”

“Tired,” she said, rubbing one of her temples. “My head aches. I shouldn’t complain, though. You’re doing all the work.”

Asterion made a rumbling sound deep in his chest. “I think you underestimate how hot and thin the air has become. I am impressed a mortal such as yourself is still conscious. One advantage we mythics have over humans—our bodies can withstand much more extreme conditions. Remember, we lived in Tartarus.” He offered his hand.

“Can you walk? There is still some water left in the west fountain.”

Hazel placed her feet on solid ground. She stood, wobbling as the pain throbbed deeper in her head. She steadied herself on Asterion’s outstretched arm.

“Hmm.” Asterion sounded concerned. “Hazel, would you consent to me carrying you?”

She was too weak to do anything but nod.

He picked her up smoothly and cradled her in his arms. Hazel tried not to feel self-conscious about being carried like a baby.

On the other hand, part of her felt safer than she had in days.

As Asterion walked through the crowd of mythics, she noticed that everyone always moved out of his way without a word.

A dryad with red leaves for hair nodded in deference. A satyr reached out and patted his arm.

“They respect you,” Hazel said softly. “I can see it.”

“I am doing my best,” he said. “Quinoa, Arielle, and I have been trying to greet all our new neighbors as they arrive.”

“Where are they right now? I haven’t seen Arielle for hours.”

Asterion stepped over the baby drakon, who had collapsed across the sidewalk after a hard day smelting ore.

“Quinoa is counting, I imagine. Arielle is brokering a peace deal between the Laistrygonian giants and the Cyclopes. She is very good at diplomacy, talking others down from their heightened state of fear. You should see it.”

Hazel smiled. “And to think she was rejected by her kindred because she couldn’t charmspeak.”

“Indeed,” said the bull-man. “I believe that was her original dream: to learn how to persuade others without needing to charm them. She will make an excellent ambassador someday, assuming…”

Asterion’s voice trailed off, but Hazel knew what he was thinking. Assuming we get out of here alive.

She hoped Naomi Solace had made it safely to Camp Jupiter. Hazel hated having to depend on factors that were outside her control, but the idea that reinforcements might be on their way was the only thing keeping her from despair. That, and the presence of her mythic friends…

If they did get out of here, Hazel was going to fashion Asterion some diamond knitting needles.

She’d make sure Quinoa got the best kindergarten kinder-garden in Roman history.

And she’d appoint Arielle the legion’s official ambassador to somewhere…

. Tartarus? Camp Half-Blood? Indiana? She realized maybe the lack of oxygen was affecting her brain.

At the west end of the park, Asterion gently set Hazel down at the edge of the fountain.

There were only a few inches of water left at the bottom, and it didn’t look very clean, but Hazel was surprised there was any left at all.

The reason for that was probably the enormous fire-breathing bronze bull standing guard.

“This is Maxwell,” Asterion told her. “He has been helping me by making sure the remainder of the water is rationed appropriately. Maxwell, this is Hazel. She would like a drink, please.”

The Colchis bull lowered his horns in acknowledgment. His ruby eyes were so large Hazel doubted even her powers could have summoned them from the earth.

She didn’t love the idea of drinking bottom-of-the-fountain water, but she decided it was better than no water at all. Besides, she understood that Asterion and Maxwell were doing her a favor.

In the end, it sort of tasted like one of those weird smoothies all the yoga people got in Berkeley.

She’d shared one once with Frank when they were out on a date, and neither of them had quite understood what the hype was about.

The memory brought sadness with it. When she turned to look back at Asterion, his image was blurred by her tears.

She missed Frank. And Nico. And Will.

She missed her home .

Asterion read her expression. “Please do not lose hope, my friend,” he said. “We will get out of here soon.”

“Have the diggers found a way out yet?”

He didn’t answer, which was all the answer she needed.

Her shadow-travel powers didn’t work in this terrible cage. She could summon things from the earth, but that was of limited use. She had never felt so stuck in her life.

Hazel swayed in place, her heart beating rapidly in her ears. She didn’t even realize Arielle and Quinoa had joined them until Quinoa fluttered up and looked her in the face.

“I said, are you okay, Hazel?” he asked. “You look sick.”

“Manners, please,” said Arielle. “You can’t just tell people they look sick.”

“It’s okay,” Hazel said. “I feel sick. I’m glad you guys are sturdier than me.”

The karpos cracked his tiny knuckles. “I could take on Pirithous and Mary Tudor at once. And probably, like, twenty more people, if I’m being honest.”

“I feel so useless ,” Hazel said. “Like I’m just waiting around to be rescued.”

“Useless?” Arielle scoffed. “Without you, we’d have no weapons or tools. And without that, do you know how quickly this place would have devolved into chaos?”

“You gave us hope , Hazel,” added Quinoa.

Hazel’s instinct was to dismiss that idea. Her friends were just trying to cheer her up. Then Asterion put his hand on her shoulder.

“There has been much talk among the mythics,” he said. “You know how suspicious the others were of you.”

“I don’t blame them,” Hazel said.

“But attitudes are changing,” Asterion continued.

“We have told them how you welcomed us into Camp Jupiter, how you fought for us. The others here…they may not say anything to your face, but they have come to respect you, Hazel. They have never seen someone like you work so hard to help them. They are not going to forget that.”

Hazel shook her head. “But I didn’t do anything. I failed.”

“No.” Arielle knelt beside her. “Listen to me, Hazel. Asterion told me that you struggle with whether you are a good person or not, but you have such a pure, loving soul. You care so much about the world around you, and that is rare . It shouldn’t be, but it is. You are one of a kind, Hazel Levesque.”

“What she said,” added Quinoa. “Only, you know, I probably would’ve said it better.”

Arielle gently swatted the karpos’s wing. “The only problem you should worry about, Praetor, is that when we get out of here, you might have a few hundred more mythics asking for sanctuary.”

Hazel suddenly felt even dizzier. “A few…hundred?”

Asterion chuckled. “You should rest, Hazel. You will burn less oxygen that way, and we need to preserve your energy for whatever comes next.”

“Because we are getting free,” said Arielle. “Maybe we don’t know how at this exact moment, but the others haven’t given up yet.”

“I’ll keep watch,” said Quinoa. “No one will dare mess with you if I’m around!”

Hazel wrapped her friends in a group hug. She felt grateful and loved, even if her headache was so bad the sunlight was starting to hurt her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll nap,” she said. “But please wake me up if something happens.”

Asterion guided her to a nearby oak tree, where she curled up on the ground.

She still wished she were back in bed with her squishy pillow, but she found comfort in the sight of her friends offering their protection.

She closed her eyes.

Of course she had a demigod dream.

She found herself back beneath the earth of Resurrection Island.

But this time, all around her, the mythics from Pirithous’s prison were digging furiously, using tools crafted from the jewels and metals she’d conjured.

As they got deeper into the soil, smelly black oil seeped to the surface, but they didn’t stop, even as it pooled around their feet.

Hazel herself was trapped inside the spire of gemstones. She could only watch as the oil got deeper and the mythics kept digging. She wanted to tell them to stop. They didn’t need to work for Gaea anymore. They could make their own choices now. But she couldn’t move or speak.