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Chapter Text

The leaves were a rubbery green. Students had abandoned their blazers and a few had even taken a dip into the Nevermore fountain. Wednesday eyed them all with a cursory glance. Heat makes you stupid. That’s why the Addams never let their house get any hotter than bone-chilling.

Enid was, sadly, one of those offenders, as she was currently skipping her way through the grounds. Gushing about a special assignment she had been specially picked for. She was probably just the most docile werewolf they could find. 

“I mean, a school exchange. Nevermore has never been on good enough terms to even go for away game competitions.” 

“Why the change now?” Wednesday had to concede, her curiosity was peeked. 

“Something about them being hidden. Nathaniel Faulkner called them his 'Holy Grail' outcast.” They both made a left to the main entrance, where Xavier waited. “That's why he called them ‘Harbingers’.All he knew about them was that catastrophe seemed to follow them.” She recited. “Oh, and they have short life spans as well.”

“I’m surprised by your research.” Wednesday raised a brow.

“Are you kidding? This is gonna be such a scoop for my blog.” Enid squealed as she stepped onto the cobbled road of their school. “I mean, ever since I teased it, I've even been getting non-Nevermore traffic. I'm planning-“

“Wednesday, surprised to see you here.” Xavier said in greeting.

“Should I not be?” 

“You don’t exactly scream welcoming committee.” He folded his arms.

“What do you know about this hidden school?” Wednesday cut to. 

“It’s a camp,” he corrected “but it also has year-round kids. It’s pretty exclusive from what I’ve heard.” 

Enid nodded “The camp's like a big who’s who of the great and powerful. Their alumni list is insane.” 

Wednesday eyed Xavier “And you’re not in it?”

“Trust me, my dad tried. I got a flat-out no.” 

“Must have been a first.” 

Xavier opened his mouth to retaliate, but the crunching footsteps of their teacher silenced him. 

Their eyes transfixed to their pocket watch like a white rabbit “They should be arriving shortly.” They stuttered when their eyes landed on Wednesday. “You’re not a part of the committee.”

“I am not.”

“Well, these students were picked specifically to put our best face forward-“

“And mine is too ashen and honest?” She questioned. 

“Well put.” The teacher smiled. Nodding their head back to the school’s entrance.

“Have fun squeezing money from the trust fund camp.” She drawled as she made her exit.

“I’ll meet you in the quad for lunch, Wednesday.” Enid shouted to her retreating back. 

The teacher gave a sigh of relief. “Now remember, no mention of last terms Hyde business. Put your best face forward. This is only a little tour for a longer-lasting friendship between our educational institutions.” The teacher clapped, positioning himself beside Enid and Xavier.

A white van started to trundle its way down the dirt road leading to the school. It looked far from the vehicle of the rich and powerful. It looked like the cheap van kidnappers bought to nap said children. The big strawberry logo did little to break the image. Along with the light blue lettering of “Delphi Strawberry Farm”.

The windows were reflective, so the three students could see nothing but themselves. Until the door slid open to reveal a bearded man in a wheelchair. He seemed the type to head an elite school, with his tweed and tartan blanket. 

“Chiron, I hope it wasn’t too difficult to find us.” Chiron shook hands with their teacher, taking a moment to marvel at the architecture of their school.

“I must confess, I have always wanted to visit your great establishment. I have bumped into more than a few of your alumni over the years.”

Xavier tilted his head, as he noticed the back of the bus was bouncing slightly from the movements inside. He tried to share a glance with their teacher but their focus was locked on Chiron. But he felt an elbow on his other side and Enid’s freaked-out gaze told him he wasn’t alone. 

“Well, may I introduce a few more: This is Xavier Thorpe and Enid Sinclair.” 

“Pleasure to meet you both, these would be some of our campers.” No one exited the bus. 

Chiron wheeled back to look inside and the Nevermore students found their heads craning to look inside as well. All they could see was a girl, shockingly beautiful and trying to strangle something with a seatbelt.

“Is everything alright?” Chiron called in. There was an unmistakable sound of metal stabbing flesh - then silence.

And then a beautiful girl stepped out. She didn’t have the average model look but was muscular with a sharp chin and kaleidoscope eyes. 

“Just a small road bump.” She smiled. And even Xavier found himself weirdly at ease with the answer.

“This would be some of my campers: Piper and Nico.” Xavier swore that they just moved through a cold patch. The hot sun on his neck seemed to disappear as soon as a leather boot landed on their school grounds. The kid looked smaller, his hair curling like a nest of some sort and his skin an unnerving alabaster colour. Everything he wore was black and white, even his ratty aviator jacket.

“I hope we can begin-“

“Is that blood?” Enid pointed at the boy’s hollow cheek. 

Nico touched it leisurely “Could be.” 

The teacher glared at Enid’s interruption as Nico scrubbed at his face. Piper gave him a knowing glance, before pulling out a wet wipe. He glared at it like his eyes were a magnifying glass for a fire starter kit. 

“As I was saying, I hope we can begin a bright friendship between our two institutions. I’ve organised our students to take them each on a tour. Enid, I was hoping you could show Piper around.” 

“Hiya!” Enid stepped forward. “I love the feathers in your hair.”

“Thanks. I like your nails.” Piper nodded down to her hands. Enid flipped her hands up to protract her claws. 

Piper blinked before she smiled. “Fashionable and practical.” 

“Ms Sinclair.” The teacher coughed, before eyeing the entrance of the school. 

“Oh, right. This way.” Enid gestured, and Piper followed. 

That left Xavier with the boy.

“Xavier, could you please show Nico our famous crypts? I heard he had quite an interest.” Xavier felt like all his bones just clacked together as his body had one uncontrollable shiver.  “I will be taking Chiron to see our sports facilities.” He guided the aged man along, but not before Xavier caught Chiron giving a warning look to Nico, who didn’t pay it much heed. 

“Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Addams, would it?” 

Nico finally looked at him. Xavier almost felt like the ground would swallow him whole. Something was off-kilter with this kid. He definitely lived up to the harbinger name. 

“It’s Di Angelo.” The name seemed to lilt in his mouth.

“Any relations with an Addam’s?” He pushed, as they went through the school’s entrance.

“As far as I know, I have more of a family stump than tree.” He pulled the dark gaze away from Xavier and towards the school grounds.

“Well,” Xavier didn’t want to analyse what the kid meant by that. “Nevermore began in 1791, founded by Nathaniel Faulkner. He was a travelled man and came across many different communities of outcasts over his adventures. Through his studies, he realised that all communities held a similarity - a want to be accepted.” Nico gave a snort. Xavier brushed it off, it’s not like he had much patriotism for his school either. 

“The entrance and the quad are believed to be part of the first construction of the school. “ he gestured to their surroundings “However, the oldest part is the cemetery and greenhouse which actually originated from Faulkner’s family estate.” 

Xavier repositioned his hoody a bit closer. He didn’t know if the temperature had dropped or if it was all the looks they had been getting once they entered the quad. He had felt something similar when Bianca and he had broken up. But he never felt one so weary before. When he hung out with Wednesday, the stares were more confused or curious. 

Everyone stared at him like death’s scythe was floating above his head.

“Odd menagerie of students you got here.” Nico whistled. One of the vampire kids was staring at him long and hard. One of the “older” students they had here. 

“Are you a fang?” Xavier asked. 

“Am I what?” The boy turned to him, a brow raised. 

“Fang, vampire. It’s what we call them.” One of the younger vampires pulled at their friend to stop their staring. “Well, are you?” 

“No.” He growled.

“Ok, then. That segues us to the main groups of students here, we have fangs, claws-“

“That’s not necessary.” Nico cut him off as he wandered to look at Xavier’s frescos. 

“You don’t wanna know what kind of students we have here?” Xavier crossed his arms, as he stepped up to the kid. He was really starting to remind him of Wednesday. 

“All things bright and beautiful. All the freaks and geeks.” He squinted up at the fresco. “Why the raven? Quite a normal animal for a school of weirdos.” 

“We’re not weirdos.” He corrected. 

“We're all weirdos to someone.” He shrugged “Just depends on the perspective.” 

“Goes the same for assholes.” Xavier ground out. 

Nico turned to him and smiled. 

It was like the smile of a serial killer. Xavier felt like he had seen it in the dark of the night, illuminated by the moon, when the predator can just taste the blood of its next prey. 

He gulped. 

Nico turned to face the quad again and a few faces turned away to hide their open stares. “You have vampires, werewolves, gorgons, faceless, witches and all those in-between. That about right?” 

Xavier nodded “What are you?” 

Nico shrugged, deciding to continue the tour as he walked on “I don’t know what you call us.”

“Harbinger’s, they say doom follows you like a shadow.” Bianca had done some digging in the Nightshade library as soon as he had told her about the special welcoming committee. 

Nico kept smiling, and Xavier really wanted him to stop. 

“That’s not wrong.”

“But it’s not right either.” Xavier picked up.

Nico’s chuckle sounded like a warped echo. “Not at all.”

——————————————————————————————

Will looked around the gas station for any sweets or fun snacks. But always found himself distracted and constantly checking on the kindly old ladies or too well-behaved dog. Being in strange environments always made him cautious. 

“How about these?” His mom popped up, and Will jumped. “Oh sorry, sunbeam did I give you a fright?” 

“Nah, I’m fine, Ma.” 

“I’ve got the milk your uncle asked for. Did you pick anything for your cousin?” 

Will shrugged. “Isn’t this just out of town?” 

“It’s the thought that counts William.” 

He had to give her that. He scanned the different chocolates they had on for offer and decided to snag the skittles and M&M’s. He and his cousin were inseparable as kids. Both blonde, freckled and with an easy smile, they were often mistaken for brothers. 

They had joked that they were like skittles and M&Ms. Will being the chocolate one with a hard shell, as he was outwardly the more stubborn and adventurous of the two. But would easily cry and get emotional. But His cousin secretly was the more sour one. Yes, he was less confrontational than Will was, but he always seemed to hold grudges longer and never got scared in any horror films they watched together. 

He followed his mother to the till. It had been years since they had last seen each other. With everything going on at camp. Will hadn’t seen him since before the battle of Manhattan. His mom had taken him for thanksgiving after Lee died. And he had cried into his cousin’s shoulder all night. He was so close to telling him that he had lost an older brother rather than a “Camp Counsellor”. 

Will took the bags and threw them onto the floor between their legs. He waited for his mom to pull back onto the main road before asking: “Are you sure I can’t tell Tyler about being a demigod?” 

“Will, we talked about this. Now more than ever, he needs stability.” 

“I think he needs more than that.” Will went on “I know what’s it like mom. To be an outcast, to feel different, to feel-“

“William, you and Tyler are very different boys.” She sighed. “I wasn’t even supposed to tell you about the Hyde thing.”

“But he’s still the same person.”

His mother turned down another idyllic road “Donovan said he was different after Francoise died.” 

Will let his head hang. Berating himself for not being there for his cousin, but she had died during the height of the titan war. His mom didn’t even tell him until a month after everything had died down.

He remembered calling Tyler on the phone in the big house. He had sounded different, almost like a watered-down version of himself. 

“From what I’ve heard, he’s going down the wrong track. He’s been brainwashed.” His mother kept her eyes on the road. The sign for Jericho flying by them. 

“By that teacher?” 

“By the zealot murderer, convincing him to kill outcasts. To hate people who are different.” His Ma slowed down at the red light to look at him. Taking a moment to see how much her boy had grown since the last time they had been in this town. His freckles looked more becoming than childish. His clothes didn’t hang off him, nor was he covered in his own bandages and wraps. Her boy had even gone off to war. 

“That’s why you can’t say anything to him, Will. Do you understand? He’s killed people for being different. For being special.” She squeezed his shoulder “and I’m afraid you being his cousin, won’t change how he sees the world.”

————————

Piper and Enid wandered into the greenhouse, which also doubled as a classroom. Piper liked the idea of botany classes. She always wanted to learn more about home remedies that her dad had in his childhood. Living off the land, going off the grid and using plants in place of man-made tools, secretly she had always wanted that life.

“We have one of the largest collections of carnivorous and poisonous plants in the U.S.” Enid told her.

“All we have is a strawberry farm.” Piper muttered. Though she had seen some of the Demeter kids growing some pretty weird stuff at the back of their cabin. 

“So, that Delphi strawberry farm on your van is real?” Enid asked with a scrunched nose. Piper nodded her head. For some reason, she wrote this down on her phone. She stopped when she noticed Piper was eyeing her. 

“This is also one of the oldest parts of the school.” Enid waved her hands around, hoping Piper would forget about her note-taking “How old is your camp?” 

“I actually have no clue.” Piper said and the girl's face pinched in annoyance as she tapped away on her phone again. Piper noticed something odd amongst the thick branches and potted shrubbery. She was careful to pull them aside not wanting to touch anything poisonous. There was an odd sheen on the glass like there were faint pictures on it. 

“Oh, professor!” Enid jumped as a man walked into the room. He had a patch of scales on his forehead and his eyes were a cold colour. “Sinclair and..” 

“Piper, I’m just here for a tour.” 

He nodded at her answer before eyeing her odd position amongst the plants. Even Enid was now taking notice. 

She felt a little charm speak slithering into her voice “I was wondering if you could tell me what tree is in the courtyard? You see, back at camp we also have a tree at the front of our grounds. I couldn’t help but see the similarities.” 

The professors preened a little about getting to show off, while next to Piper, Enid started to tap away at the electronic keys. “It’s a petrified tree. It was a piece of art done by a group of students. One was actually Julius Mugwort.” He nodded to Enid, who seemed to grimace at the mention. The teacher picked up the things he came to collect. “If there are any other questions you’d like answered?” 

Piper shook her head and smiled, watching his back retreat. Piper was going to turn to Enid and try to wheedle herself out of a situation again, but she found the girl had stepped into the thicket with her.

“What do you find so weird about this window?” She asked, before turning and taking a look at it. 

“Nothing.” She brushed it off. 

“I can help.” She pleaded. “I helped Wednesday, my roomie, with that whole racist pilgrim / Hyde mystery last year. I’m great with mysteries.” 

Piper paused “What’s the racist pilgrim / Hyde mystery?” 

“Oh shoot, we weren’t supposed to mention that to you.” Enid realised.

Piper eyed the girl. “How about I figure out what this is, while you tell me what happened last year?” Piper asked as she unsheathed her celestial bronze dagger. 

Enid looked at it with wide eyes, before quickly nodding “Will you also answer some questions for my blog? People are dying to know.” She trailed off as they saw words illuminated by the light coming from the dagger. 

“Do you have a piece of paper?” Piper asked.

————————

Nico and Xavier came down the stairs and back into the quad Xavier wanted to get out of the history department fast. Nico took too much of an interest in the medieval weaponry, and could name the all with worrying accuracy. 

“And now this way to the fencing hall.” Xavier went on. 

But he found himself blocked as one of the Fangs stood in his way. Xavier wasn’t really close to her. Vampires, or at least the older generations, tend to stick with each other. Though of course, Bianca was on good terms with them. 

“Um...Delilah right?” She had black hair in a braided but cascaded style, the way young maidens wore their hair down in period dramas. Her shades were on the smaller side, pooling like tiny little pinholes. 

“May I have a word with Nico, please?” She spoke. It was a regal voice like she was someone in a period drama. And she held her chin up in the way they would too. 

Xavier looked at Nico, and his eyes were in slits like he was ready for a fight. 

Xavier, worrying about a fight, gently put a hand on Nico’s shoulder “Hey,” he started, but immediately found his hand back by his side like he had touched a hot stove. For a second, Xavier swore that the kid’s eye just went pitch black. 

Nico straightened his jacket “I don’t like being touched.” He grumbled. “What do you want?” Delilah eyed Xavier, in a ‘leave us alone’ manner and he backed off. Nico watched him walk away. 

“Delilah Angelique.” The vampire introduced herself. She wasn’t Empousa, Nico was sure and outcasts in Nevermore weren’t attracted to demigods like usual Tartarus monsters were. But Nico had a code, he hated vampires. Mostly because people kept thinking he was one, plus the beds in cabin thirteen were designed to look like coffins. 

He felt that vampires gave spooky kids like him a bad name. 

“Like I said, what do you want?” 

“I just wanted to introduce myself.” She said politely. 

“Oh great, then we’re done.” He said as he walked away.

“You are Nico di Angelo, correct?” 

Nico spun on his heel “What did they put my name up on a bulletin board?” 

“Us older vampires are aware of the existence of your kind.” She whispered the last word “And of course, of you.” 

“Of me?” 

“We rarely find another mortal, how do I put this, displaced, like we are.” She said as she folded her hands together. “You see over there.” She nodded towards her own table “Charlotta and Dimitri were both bit in 1931. While Codrutza came to this school just at the end of world war two. Even Augustus has been to your New Rome and conversed with Thanatos himself.” She said, pointing to a boy with a closely shaven head. 

“If it’s alright with me asking,” Though she was not dead, he felt like she was similar to the ghosts that he conversed with “When were you bit?” 

“Towards the beginning of 1900s.” She said and seemed lost in a memory. “1930s was my favourite period though.” 

“Right before the war?” Nico scoffed. He remembered it vaguely. There was always this tense air about your actions like it could be your last. Last family meal, last chat, last forkful of food. He didn’t see it as clearly back then, but in hindsight, he could. The strain in his mother’s smile. The weariness his sister had for someone so young.

“But it was the last time the world was like that.” She said, as if in a reverie of her own. “No technology, no worldwide anything, no earth-shaking calamities, the world felt small and you felt so big.” He always thought it was just him, who felt the past was a little easier to digest. That it felt like it had a more homely quality to it. Now everything was too fast and too loud whether you liked it or not. 

“Now it’s all changed.” He noted, giving her a small sad smile. 

Xavier observed the smile the two shared as he came up to them. “We’ve gotta finish the rest of the tour, you know.” 

“Oh joy, the fencing halls.” Nico drawled with the smile vanishing.

“Have you shown him the crypts?” Delilah asked. 

Nico answered for him “He’s supposed to.” 

“Oh, you must.” She went on. “He’d love them.” 

Xavier pulled at his collar, not exactly sure how he felt about being alone with Nico in a small damp dark place where no one could hear him scream. 

“I mean, I’m not the best at getting down there.” He lied. Nico raised a brow, obviously not taking it. But Delilah didn’t care. 

“I could take you.” 

“By all means.” Nico nodded. 

But just before they could take a step in the right direction, the other camper appeared, the pretty one. 

“Nico.” She ran around the quad and pulled him into the alcove. “We need to talk.” Xavier turned to Delilah with a shrug, but the vampire had already turned away to go back to her hoard.

Nico was pulled into an alcove with a moustached man and a raven. 

“Who’s that?” He asked, looking up. 

Piper glanced at the statue “You don’t know Edgar Allan Poe? He’s like a spooky poet.” Nico took a seat underneath him and crossed his legs. 

“What’s so important then? I’m missing crypts for this.” He huffed. 

Piper and he were an odd pair, he conceded. They weren’t particularly close on the Argo, nor afterwards but when Jason died, she seemed to take him under her wing. The“Nico Charm”, Austin had dubbed it. But he did respect Piper, in a weird way. 

“We have to wait for Chiron.” Piper told him. 

The daughter of Aphrodite stared at her dagger intently. She wasn’t cleaning or sharpening it. She just stared at it intently. Nico knew what that meant. 

“No. No, you have got to be kidding me.” He stood up. “Rachel hasn’t said anything.” 

“Rachel isn’t the only one who can dole out prophecies, Nico. From what Enid told me, loads of people get prophecies here.” Piper explained.

“Then it’s their problem, not ours.” Nico crossed his arms.

“It made reference to greek mythology.” 

“Shit.” Nico resigned. 

He slumped down next to her. “What did it say?” 

“You can read, but I’ll go through all the details with Chiron later, ok?” Piper handed him a scrap piece of paper. 

“When purple blooms on petrified skin, when winter freezes welcomed spring, 

shall the outcasts incur the Necromancer’s Reckoning,

The Woeful and Misery’s perfect child must unweave Clotho’s planned guile, 

Root Marsh progeny guided by the sun’s oldest light, must learn from Immortal's kin or succumb to blight/,

For what has taken seed by ancestral plot, must be returned to rightful lot,

Only then will worlds reunite and not ashen burn with kindled spite.”

“Thank Hades.” He muttered, handing it back to her. 

“What?” Piper asked. 

“That doesn’t directly mean either of us.” He said slumping back down next to her.

“Aren’t we ‘Immortals Kin’.” Piper waved the paper in his face. 

“Vampires.” Nico shrugged. 

“Clotho?” 

“She can be symbolic.” Nico explained, pulling his coat a bit tighter around himself. He could feel it getting colder for some reason

“Necromancer?” She found Nico quiet after that. 

————————

Will always liked the Galpin house. It was surrounded by thick but inviting woods. The air was never too cold and the ground never too hard. It had been perfect for making childhood memories.

The door opened to reveal Uncle Donovan. 

“Hey there, Donny.” His mother smiled with open arms. Her brother gave her a tight hug. His eyes squint shut whilst in his younger sister’s embrace. Will looked away out of politeness. Only turning back when he heard a sniff. 

“Thanks for being here, Naomi.” He then turned his gaze onto him. “Is that you Will? God, you’ve gotten taller. Look at you.” He gave Will a little push and he could feel the weariness in his uncle's bones. 

“Tyler, why don’t you come greet your cousin and Aunty.” Both Solaces shared a look at the mention of the youngest Galpin but stepped inside the house anyway. 

Tyler loitered in the living room. He did look different. Gone were the days when his hair would go down to his ears like Will, now it was shorn on the side and they were a darker, dirtier colour. His freckles seemed to gravitate to the bags under his eyes. And his features had turned sharp and muscular. 

“Hey cus.” The voice was different too. 

Will showed him the plastic bag “I bought skittles.” Tyler smiled at him and Will felt a little hope bloom. 

“You haven’t changed a bit.” He stepped closer, so they were only a foot away from each other. Tyler was still taller. Will shrugged. His eyes caught the light of an ankle bracelet. 

“Tyler why don’t you show Will where he and his mom will be staying.” Uncle Donovan suggested. Tyler shot his dad a dirty look, again something he never saw Tyler do before. 

“I’ll make some coffee.” His mom smiled easily, making her way to the kitchen. 

Tyler nodded for Will to follow him upstairs. 

“So what have you been up to? Busy at camp?” Will was thankful that his cousin had started the conversation. It's not like he could ask Tyler ‘hey, so what's been happening with you recently?’. 

“Camps' good. Kind of been a bit of a mess. There was this whole fiasco with another camp but it all turned out well in the end.” He dragged his bag into the room Tyler gestured at. “I’m also the counsellor for my cabin now.” 

“Well, would you look at that?” There was this odd mocking tone in his voice now. “I remember you blubbering and crying about that. Well, was being camp counsellor as scary as you thought it would be?”

Will turned so he didn’t have to face his cousin. “Sometimes yeah.”Will fiddled with the beads around his neck. Daring himself to take the plunge. He decided to put his “Doctor Solace" coat on. “How have you been holding up?”

Tyler smirked at him like he enjoyed his little cousin's courage like it was quaint. Will wanted to punch him in the arm and ask him what that was all about. But held back.

“You mean, how's prison?”

“I hear the food's really bad there.” Will added. Nico had been thrown into juvie once and while he had easily escaped. He had gone on and on about how bad the food was.

“I was craving nothing but red meat and all I got was this soft paste, like bread soaked in milk. Then when I finally get out, my stomach isn’t used to the texture of anything harder than paste”

“Ouch.” Will tried to sympathise, but even to his ears, it sounded half-hearted.

“Look, Will I know why you're here. You’re gonna try and be my therapist. Try and bring that old Tyler back.” he mocked as he moved closer. Will stayed where he was, but felt his head tilting away. “I'm not that guy who's gonna wait for you to stop crying after a movie. Or needs you to stick up for me. I've changed and you need to get that.”

Will was silent for a moment. Remembering those days when they were super close. Where he and Tyler would have sleepovers every night. Destroy the kitchen while they tried to make pancakes. Hell, the first patient will ever had was Tyler when he had scraped his knee in the Jericho playground. Will had cleaned it out with some water and covered it with a superman plaster that was too small. 

Now, Will would use the antiseptic he had on hand. Clean it, then used the antiseptic with cotton swabs and cut the sides off the plasters so that they would fit over his knee better. Will had stitched and healed whole legs back together. He had seen his siblings die. His friends side with Luke and shunned at camp after. His father thrown off Olympus. The eyes of his younger siblings looking up at him like he’ll know everything. Like he could fix everything. 

“I get that.” Will said, with a forced smile.

——————————

Wednesday studied her roommate's phone before looking up at the empty window pane.

“Then Piper took out this glowy dagger and the words just appeared. Like they were glow in the dark. Or the opposite really.” Enid explained. 

“A dagger?” Wednesday interjected. 

Enid nodded “I think it was made of bronze.”

Thing scarpered up Wednesday’s shoulder to get a better look. He quickly tapped on her shoulder.

“It does look like a prophecy.” She agreed with Thing. 

“A prophecy?”

“My family used to give one out at the beginning of each century and etch it into a marble slab above our mantle.” Wednesday explained, “Though it’s turned into more of a betting match in the recent centuries.” 

Thing seemed to jump slightly at the mention of it. Enid smiled as he told her the amount he had scored last time. 

“This Piper girl, how did she react to it?” Wednesday moved closer to the glass. There was a remnant of something, but it was hard to make it out.

“She said she needed to find her camp buddy.” 

“Was she alarmed, scared, curious? I need details about the Harbinger.” She pushed. Enid leaned against a desk.

“I could smell a bit of worry on her, but not fear.” 

Wednesday leaned in closer and touched the glass: Oh, this again. She felt the electricity run up her spine. And her body keeled over.

She was still in the greenhouse, but it was night. The desks were different too. Shorter, wooden and placed in straight lines rather than a curve. A cloaked girl entered. It seemed that this was actually a part of Nevermore’s original uniform, as there was a crest sewn above the girl's heart. 

She brought the lamp close to her face, and Wednesday saw a face eerily similar to Goodie Addams. The girl had a sharper nose and if Wednesday stood closer, purple eyes. When she took off her hood, Wednesday saw the biggest difference. Wavy healthy blonde hair and a lilac flower bow tying it back. 

“We are not responsible for our ancestors' sins.” Wednesday muttered as she watched the girl place the Lantern on the floor and pull out a potion from a flower-beaded purse. 

The girl quickly checked her surroundings again, as if she were expecting someone to pounce at her. But there was no one. She started to write the prophecy on the window pane.

“Ophelia?” Someone called. 

She turned in a start, Wednesday following. 

“Julius,” she squinted at the figure “but it’s a full moon?” 

He gave her a knowing look, which she seemed to understand with a nod. Something about this Julius seemed familiar. Though Wednesday had never seen him before. He pushed up his glasses to see what Ophelia was writing. She fidgeted slightly as the boy towered over her. Wednesday rolled her eyes. 

“This isn’t a good idea, Phi.” Julius told her. 

“Phi, seriously?” Wednesday groaned. 

Ophelia straightened slightly. “It can only be found by the light of celestial bronze or imperial gold.”

“He’ll find it in a heartbeat.” Julius told her. “It’s the weapon of choice for demigods.”

Ophelia looked him in the eye “but not for children of Hades.” 

Wednesday woke up with a start, a worried-looking Enid above her. “You having visions, is never good.” 

Wednesday stood up, dusting herself off. “We need to find these campers of yours.”

She felt Thing tap her. 

“I’m fine.” She ground out. 

Thing tapped her again, so she’d look at him, and then he pointed up. Enid and Wednesday turned their heads.

“Oh yeah, it started raining when you were out cold.” Enid filled her in.

It was a harsh rain, like bullets. The wind slithered through the cracks and howled. The outside was like a wall of whitish grey through the glass. 

“Enid, that’s not rain.” Wednesday told her. She opened the door of the greenhouse and was greeted by a slippery frozen floor. “It’s hail.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Wednesday found herself blinking in the dark. Thin roots protruded from the ceiling, creating striped shadows when passing through the lantern’s glow. Fractions of frescos jumped with colour as the shadows outlined them. Long Ionic columns curved to the shape of the tunnel, depictions of Greek warriors and mythological creatures were carved in the absences.

The light quickly disappeared as the girl with the lantern ventured deeper. Wednesday promptly followed after, recognising the short white blonde hair and similar stature to her, to be Ophelia Addams. Her ancestor paused and traced one of the carvings. This one was a hill with little houses. She gave a wistful sigh, which Wednesday tutted at. 

A low humming caused Ophelia’s head to turn, slowly she drifted ever close to the warm voice. She stepped out of a tunnel to a small room, roughly the size of her and Enid’s dorm. Wednesday squinted at the green light that lit the stone. It was a subterranean tomb, at least if the funeral statues were anything to go by. This was more Wednesday’s scene. She even wanted to take pictures if she could, though it was a bit much for her taste, her father was planning to redesign the dining room. 

“Is this your home, away from home, Arius?” Ophelia spoke to the room.

“It’s a tomb.” Arius replied.

Both she and Wednesday stepped around one of the statues to find a boy. He lightly tapped the hammer against the wall as he chipped away at the rock. His hair curled around his face, making his dark eyes gleam like the night sea. His skin was an olive colour, that only lightened with a few scars on his neck and hands. Where Ophelia wore her uniform to the Tee, he wore his shabbily. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, and his collar was upturned, making it appear more Elizabethan than the Gilded age. A loose pointed jacket rested on his shoulders.

“It’s not like you, to be here.” he said, as he went over to her, wiping the stone dust off his hands as he did so. “I might get airs.” He teased. 

Ophelia folded her arms. “I wouldn’t disturb you if it wasn’t important.” 

“I know, Ophelia.” His teasing smirk seemed to morph into one of genuine comfort. “What did you wish to speak to me about?” 

“I wanted to nominate someone for the Nightshades.” She said evenly.

Arius cocked his head to the side “I wasn’t aware of another demigod or legacy?” Wednesday's brows furrowed at the last word.

“She is not, at least, not to my knowledge.” Ophelia rushed through her words.

Arius's shoulders slumped as he turned back to his carvings, “Then no.” 

“Is exclusion really necessary?” She pleaded as she went after him. “The Nightshades was founded by an Outcast.” 

“Your ancestor might have started it and I believe in her fight. But she’s symbolic. We were the ones who resurfaced the Nightshades in Nevermore. Not an outcast.” He said, as he put away the hammer and chisel. “It’s the only haven we have left.”

“And it was thinking like that, that started the war between the Greeks and Romans in the first place.” She pushed on. 

“And the Outcast we're not innocent than either. They took no sides, gave no aid.” He filed harder into the rock. “They thought it better that we kill each other off.”

Ophelia crouched down, stopping his hand. “Nevermore gave us a home.” She spoke softly, and the fight seemed to drain out of him. 

“To Nevermore, we are but a Necromancer and a Witch.” He turned to her. Wednesday stepped closer.

“Can’t that be enough?” She sat with him, their faces inches away from each other. Arius's eyes seemed to trail upwards, staring at the faces of his incomplete carvings. “Can’t we just move on and -”

“And forget?” He finished for her. 

“Accept.” She corrected him. “Accept, so we can live.” His face pulled up into a bitter smile, before wandering towards the centre of the room. His hands spread out to gesture to the place in its entirety. 

“Accept this?” He asked. “My family wasn’t even a part of the civil war. We were pacifists. We understood death better than anyone. And what did we get?” Arius looked down and shook his head. “The outcast rejected us. Threw us to the dogs.”

“They were scared.” Ophelia tried. 

“And now every child of Hades and Pluto is dead.” He spat. Wednesday looked at him from head to toe. This was the son of Hades that Ophelia and Julius were so afraid of? Ophelia glanced at her forearm and tightly gripped her sleeve. Wednesday rolled her eyes at the nervous tick. 

“You’re still here.” She told him as she stood up. 

“Tyche does smile on me.” He bit out sarcastically. She stepped closer to him and they leaned into one another. He brushed some of her hair away from her forehead. 

“I’m happy you’re here.” She told him. 

“Then I’m happy to be alive.” He smiled into her hair, but Wednesday noted how his eyes shifted to something at the back of the room. It seemed to be a door, half-finished. Wednesday tried to mesmerise the greek writing around it. But like sand, the visions blurred around her. 

She opened her eyes to the staring face of Poe’s raven. She was used to waking up in the infirmary or at least where she had last been, which was the quad corridor. She heard Thing scuttle towards her. He wasn’t able to drag her. 

A pale face appeared from above. It was surrounded by dark curling hair and eyes like polished obsidian. 

“Do you do this often?” He asked, a hand bracing itself on Poe’s raven. 

Wednesday pulled back. That was the same hand she had seen brush through Ophelia’s hair. His skin was paler. His accent seemed to have Italian origins. He was dressed also in black and white, with an aviator jacket and ripped black jeans. But just as shabby.

“Hello? Wednesday, right?” He waved a hand in front of her face, showing off a black skull ring. This was Nico di Angelo, Nevermore’s new transfer student and Xavier’s roommate.

She stood up, and he stepped back at the sudden movement. Not in the way that people usually did, with a few more inches in the air and a look of shock. His feet were similar to her stance in fencing, and he had eyes that seemed to scan for something. He was also only two inches taller than her, unlike Arius's towering height. 

“You’re the transfer.” 

“What was that about?” He pointed to the bench. “The hand…well, I’m not really sure what he was trying to say. But he seemed adamant I stayed.” 

Wednesday sent a glare towards Thing, who shrugged. 

“I get visions.” She told him, it was common knowledge around Nevermore anyway.

“Visions?” He repeated, adjusting the weight on his feet. “Like prophecies?” 

Wednesday narrowed her eyes “You know about the one in the greenhouse.”

“So do you.” He fired back. 

Thing tapped something and Wednesday rolled her eyes. Nico seemed unsure of what he was trying to say. 

“What is he exactly?” He asked. “He’s not dead, so what is he?“

“Why would you say that?” She clipped in. 

Nico blinked before his chin raised a bit higher “Because Necromancy doesn’t exist.”

She stood up “It could.” 

“The last Necromancer died years ago.” 

“No, we just haven’t seen one for years.” Wednesday craned her head to look at him. He did have an odd aura around him. She remembered Enid mentioning it. Wednesday remembered that feeling, she had often chased after it at graveyards and crematoriums. “Just like your camp.”

“Are you implying something?” He asked. 

“That depends on whether you’re hiding something.” Wednesday tilted her head. 

“Says the girl who won’t talk about her vision?” He countered. Wednesday opened her mouth to retort, but Nico stepped closer “And who’s looked like they’ve seen a ghost.” 

Wednesday’s mouth pursed closed. Thing tapped something away, and only Nico looked down at what he was saying. She took this as her moment to move past him. “What I see in my visions, are my own.” 

“Then I guess we’re both hiding something, Mercoledì.” The way his tongue curled around the words was natural. 

“I advise you to sleep with one eye open, Di Angelo.” She fired back. He simply gave her a rueful smile.

——————

Piper clutched her backpack as she made her way to the quad. Nico was nowhere to be seen at breakfast. A stark contrast to back at camp, where she always remembered seeing him quietly sitting at the Apollo table. Or giving side eyes to Mr D at the high table. Or more painfully, when he sat back at the Hades table next to Jason. 

She was still pissed at him for that comment. She just wanted to make sure he was ok. And that had nothing to do with Jason. She had remembered returning to camp after his passing. Found him slinking out of his cabin, his cheeks sallow and the only colour being the red around his eyes. 

The resemblance struck too closely to their first encounter when Piper had pulled him out of the jar. Deep down, she felt like she had never stopped seeing him as that living corpse. She always noticed the shadows on his cheek. How boney his arms were when she playfully punched his shoulder. How limp his arms were when she dragged him somewhere, it was like clutching smoke. How could he not see it? Did he not own a mirror? 

Piper took the framed picture out of her bag and hung it back on the wall. 

“Woah.” A familiar voice rushed up to her. “Did you steal the picture off the wall?” Enid questioned. 

“I’m just returning it.” Piper said as she struggled to hang it back up. 

“Yeah, but you took it out of your bag. So you definitely stole it.” She went on. “Is it a Harbinger thing?” 

Piper blinked. It wasn’t like demigods were model citizens, actually, most of them had stolen something from time to time. The Hermes cabin were kleptomaniacs. She had known a few times when her siblings downright swindled people out of new make-up or clothes. And on quests, anything goes really. Having your life and the world on the line kind of put theft lower on your morality list. 

“Not really.” It wasn’t genetic (except for Hermes kids). “More me thing.” Enid nodded her head in the way people did when they were trying to process information. “I mean, I accidentally broke it yesterday and I didn’t wanna cause trouble on my first day.” She lied.

Enid’s nodding sped up “I get ya. Especially after that prophecy stuff right.” 

Piper paused “Did you tell anyone about it?” She moved closer to the wall so that their conversation was more private. “You know, the first day of school and I already start to find weird stuff.” Piper pulled her face into one of embarrassment. 

“Trust me, I get it. I’m a wolf and all. Reputations, packs, I get it.” But she twisted her fingers in her hands still. Piper didn’t say anything, waiting for the girl to say it on her own. “You see, my roommate is kinda like a detective of sorts and I told her. She’s the one I told you about, with the whole Hyde stuff.”

The bell tolled far above them and the two wordlessly joined the sea of students. Piper didn’t like the idea of a mortal getting involved. She thought of her dad, and how unfair it was for him to be a target for things he couldn’t even see. 

“Couldn’t it be dangerous?” Piper asked. 

“Wednesdays like a dog with a bone when it comes to this kind of stuff, and that’s coming from me.” 

Piper remembered her from Enid’s story. The girl was a veteran in Nevermore mysteries but Piper still wasn’t sure. On the other hand, with Nico giving her the cold shoulder, another head couldn’t hurt. Especially someone with more knowledge of Nevermore. Plus, she was the ‘people person department’ she thought snidely. 

“Can I meet her?” Piper asked. 

Enid pulled a face “She’s not the best with new people.” 

“But I am.” Piper countered. 

Enid didn’t look convinced “Trust me, the only people Wednesday likes are dead ones.” That certainly reminded Piper of someone. “And me, of course.” Enid added. 

“Well, tell her I can help her with the prophecy.” Piper said as she swung herself on the bannister of the stairs as they went down. 

“Help is her least favourite thing, after colour.” Enid explained as they reached the bristling cold air of the quad. But Piper found herself distracted as she recognised a dark mop of hair and sallow cheeks. Nico was just across the octagon. She still had some time to talk to him if she rushed. But she found a hand on her shoulder before she could run after him. 

“But hey, do you know how to fence?” Enid asked excitedly.

Fencings swords tend to be lighter than the ones they used at camp, plus there was a whole different posture to them. At least, that’s what she could tell from the Zorro movies her dad loved. 

“Umm…I’ve done some stage combat.” She shrugged, not exactly connecting the dots to their previous conversation. 

“Wednesday and I are both members of the fencing club. You can try and see if you can fight your way into a conversation with her.” Enid gleefully planned. 

“Thanks.” She found herself faltering as she noticed something small trailing along behind Nico. It seemed like a crab of some sort, obviously sentient in the way it ducked behind pillars and students to avoid attention. 

“The other Harbinger is not a fan of conversation either.” Enid commented as she followed Piper’s stare.

“Nico, yeah not really.” Piper agreed absently.

“He suggested you’d be better for an interview for my blog.” Enid said, looking at Piper expectantly. 

“Yeah sure, of course.” She waved off. “I’ll see you at fencing club.” Piper told her as she ran to catch up after Nico and warn him about the small monster. 

“See you there.” Enid called after her, standing on her tiptoes so she could shout over the crowd.

Piper scanned for the creature as she ran after him. But she found the ground covered in bustling feet and black leather shows as students made their way for morning classes. Piper felt she saw something behind a trailing coat or a swish of the skirt, but only found gothic stone staring back at her. She was jostled left and right as she tried to make her way, and she was quickly loosing ground as Nico walked further and further away. Nico also had the unfair advantage of parting people like the red sea. 

“Nico!” She called after him. A few heads turned at her call, but he didn’t stop. “Gods dammit.” She cursed. 

She looked at the students in front of her, “Excuse me, do you mind letting me through.” She projected. And students absently shuffled out of her way. For a second, she though she saw a glimpse of the creature, but it scuttles away before she could get a better look. 

“Sorry, do you mind letting me through.” She said again, charm speaking the crowd. A boy with scales shuffled out of the way, with a dreamy smile on his face. She was used to it by now. However, she missed the colder blue eyes next to the boy observing her. 

“Nico, wait!” She tried again, but he had his headphones in. 

“Do you need him for something?” Someone asked, stepping in Piper’s way. She recognised the girl vaguely from her own class. Her glasses identifying her as one of the vampires. 

“Yeah, I’m his friend. Who are you?” She asked, eyeing the girl up and down. 

“Then why is he ignoring you?” The girl asked bluntly. 

“That’s a private matter.” Piper told her. 

“Well, he doesn’t want to talk to you, obviously.” She drawled. Piper noticed the back of Nico’s head disappearing into one of the classrooms. 

“Who are you?” 

“Delilah Angelique, I’m a friend of Nico’s.” She introduced. 

“Really?”

“We have lunch together.” The girl shrugged. “That’s why I know, he doesn’t want to talk to you.” She sang.

“He tell you that, did he?” 

“Well, in so many words.” The girl conceded, “‘Why can’t Piper just leave me alone?’ It’s not exactly subtext.”

“Nico can fight his own battles and deal with his own friends.” Piper explained. 

“Huh.” Was all she said. 

Piper snorted at the petite girl “He may look dead, but that kid’s a fighter.” She crossed her arms. 

The girl laughed “I know of his deeds, daughter of Aphrodite.” Piper stopped as the girl spoke of her mother. “It’s just that he never mentioned you as a friend.” With that, the girl swanned off. It was only after a moment did Piper realise that she was now alone in the corridor. And the final bell tolled for classes to begin.

——————

Will jumped up and down on the welcome mat, making sure to scrape Tyler’s boots. Shaking every last snowflake off, before he went inside. His hair was frozen into little curls, and he had half frozen his scarf into a curved shape. He put the shovel back into the cupboard. 

“I’m starting to think this house arrest, is more a gift than a burden.” Will groused as he looked up at where he assumed Tyler was. 

“Well, for your burdens.” His mom pushed a hot cup of coco to him, which Will rushed to. His mom always made it a little less sweet and a bit more milky. He always preferred it that way. And he found his nectar started to taste more like it in the winter. He was blocked from drinking more as his cold cheeks were pinched. 

“Ma.” He groaned. 

“But they’re all cute and red.” She said, petting his cheek. “And you got a little red nose.” She cooed. 

“I’m not made for the snow.” He grumbled. 

“‘Course you’re not, sunbeam.” She pushed another cup of coco to him. “Why don’t you take this up to Tyler?”

Will grimaced, as he looked up at the stairs. His cousin had gone straight to his room after yesterday. He had also refused to talk to any of them at dinner and hadn’t come down for breakfast either. But they knew he hadn’t done a runner at least. There was constant pacing in his room just above them.

“Do you think the therapist said something?” His mom asked. 

Will sighed “I think I did.” 

His mom’s eyes narrowed with worry “What did you say?” 

Will bobbled his head in a noncommittal answer as he tried to play his answer off as nonchalant. Kayla was great at doing that and had gotten out of a lot of trouble with it. 

“William Andrew Solace.” She put her mug down, and Will grimaced. She glance towards the stairs, her voice lowering to a whisper “Did you tell him about-“

“No.” He placated. “Gods no, I know what you said.” Will sighed, he found it easier in camp. Wars, prophecies and gods kind of made you realise how insignificant your life could be. And because of that, a lot of demigods tended to be open books. Of course, with obvious exceptions. But the demigods he grew up with in camp. His siblings, Clarisse, Annabeth, and Drew, always declared how they felt. “But I was close.” He confessed. 

His mom wasn’t angry, instead, he found a warm hand on his shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry you have to do this.” Will let his head fall. It would be so much easier. That’s all Nico had needed, a stubborn friend. A hand waving out to him. That person told him he wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t allowed to be that for his own cousin. The kid he had eaten dirt with. His mom squeezed his shoulder. “Doesn’t mean you can’t be there for him.” 

Will gave her a sad smile, and took the still-warm cup of cocoa. He made his way up the stairs, and nodded his head up in reference to Tyler “If he kills me,” he joked. 

“Body slam your dad if he tries to play Despacito at your funeral, I remember.” She smiled as Will grinned back 

His mom had always told him that the house had changed little from her childhood. All except the dried flowers framed in the hallway. Apparently, that had been Aunt Francoise’s hobby. Will remembered her fondly. Being elbow deep in mud and getting their knees scraped in the great outdoors as she went foraging. 

Will knocked on Tyler’s door. “I’ve got coco.”

He heard the steps coming towards him. The shadows on the otherside getting larger. Tyler yanked open the door. He looked at Will’s smiling face, then down at the warm mug. He didn’t take it but left the door open. Will paused at the invitation, before slowly stepping inside.

Not much had changed from his room. Will knew it well, as it’s where he used to stay. He could still see remnants of the childhood bedroom under his current one. The monster lamp with googly eyes. The chalkboard they would draw their star wars scenes, now had daily reminders on them. There were also framed pictures of his mom by his bedside, which was new. 

He placed the hot chocolate down. He cocked his head as he caught sight of the handwritten letters on Tyler’s desk. The stationary looked expensive. The paper was a thick cream and the looping letters reminded him of Nico’s cursive. A large hand slammed down on the papers, causing Will to jump. 

“Reading my mail now?” He groused.

“Tyler,” Will blinked “I’m dyslexic.” 

Tyler’s shoulders relaxed a smidge, “Still.” Though it sounded quite petulant to Will’s ears. 

“I’d need a bit more than a glance.” He explained, as he turned his back on the papers, which he hoped Tyler saw as a sign of goodwill “I’m just intrigued by your pen pal.” 

Tyler tidied the letters away and filed them into a folder on his desk. “It was an activity from Rehab.” 

“Are they nice?” He ventured. 

“They listen.” He glared. Will didn’t rise to it and simply gave him a dopey smile back. 

“Everyone needs that.” 

Tyler sighed and took a seat on his bed. He hadn’t asked Will to leave, which was a good sign. Nor did he seem angry at him like he did with Uncle Donovan. But he did’t seem entirely comfortable with Will being here either. It was like Will was a stranger, the calmness only a polite veneer.  Will decided to fold his arms and wait to see what Tyler wanted him for. 

“Do you-” Tyler started, before scratching at the back of his head “Do you have that?” He finally asked. Will wasn’t used to that rasp in his voice, or how low it was. And he wasn’t used to Tyler asking these kinds of questions. Will pulled out a chair. 

“Yeah, I do.” Will shuffled his feet. “My boyfriend.” 

Tyler sat up. “A boyfriend?” 

“It never really came up when we were kids.” He scratched his cheek. “I couldn’t exactly say, “I think Han and Luke are a better couple.’ Could I?” Will’s eyes travelled up to the figurines on Tyler’s shelf. The little Darth Vader had one hand outstretched and his lightsaber at a slant. Will was a big enough nerd to know what it referred to, but he couldn’t help but be reminded of when he first saw Nico. A tiny dark figure in a swarm of enemies. One hand clasped to the reigns of his chariot, the other outstretched with his wicked sword. Will remembered his breath leaving his body as he stared at Nico di Angelo from afar. “I do like girls, in that way too. I know I favour guys though, ever since I was twelve.” Tyler didn’t comment he just sat there and quietly took it all in. Will shuffled at his silence. “When I met my boyfriend.” He supplied. 

“You guys have been together that long?” Tyler said, his jaw loose in shock. He didn’t seem angry, more taken back. And most of it seemed to be directed at himself. 

“No, no. We weren’t together then.” Will rushed in. “I just had a big ol’embarrassing crush on him, from afar, you know like a real suave guy.” Tyler smiled at that. His cheeks bunched up into a real genuine smile. Will couldn’t help but mirror it. 

 “I’m happy you’re here, Will.” Tyler told him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here before.” Will confessed. “but I’m here for you now.” 

Tyler’s smile faded, but it was still there in a relaxed way, “I know. I keep thinking you’re still the same, but you’ve changed too, haven’t you?”

“I’ve always been gay.” Will teased. 

Tyler’s face pinched in mock annoyance, but Will could see the creases around his eyes as he tried to suppress his smile. He lobbed a pillow at him, which Will ducked with laughter.  “I didn’t mean that! I meant maturity, wisdom, that crap William!”

“Aw, look at you, thinking I’m wise.” Will cooed at him. Tyler gave him a grumpy thin smile. “Wish I could say the same.” He continued lightly. 

Tyler gave a soft laugh at that as he nodded his head along. “Yeah, me too.” He noted sadly. Will sobered slightly at that. He felt as if he was at the watershed point. 

“Do you trust me?” Tyler asked. 

Will knew what the correct answer was, a quick and thoughtless “Yes”. That’s what his mom would want him to say. What Tyler’s therapist would say. But Will was neither of them. Uncle Donovan would have given a clipped ‘No’, with a long list of reasons. That’s what all the townspeople would say, if they weren’t too scared to say so.

“I don’t.” Will answered honestly. He knew the true weight of trust. He had trusted campers to have his back in a fight. He had trusted his siblings when they protected the bridge. He trusted Nico with his silence when facing Octavian. He didn’t think he could bestow that same trust on his cousin. At least, he shouldn’t. “That’s what I should say.” He kept going on. “It’s what I’d tell anyone else. It’s what I tell myself but…I really don’t know if I’d follow through.” 

There was little emotion on Tyler’s face. Without saying a word, he got up and pulled up the carpet at the centre of the room. Will didn’t dare move. He just watched as Tyler pulled at one of the floorboards, revealing an opening. Will craned his head, but didn’t move from his chair. Scared to break the fragile air between the two. He took a beaten-up messenger bag, with sprouting flowers embroidered with colourful thread. 

He put it on the desk. And Will quickly spied on the name tag. “You kept that?” He looked up. “Isn’t it, you know, evidence?” There in loopy cursive read ‘Marilyn Thornhill’. 

“I kept it for a reason.” He pulled out a manilla file. There Will found a tiny photo of his Aunt Francoise, younger and dressed in Nevermore uniform. Will flipped it open. He glared at the paper, as he pieced together the sentences. From what he could see, it was her school record. “Thornhill gave that to me. What she didn’t give me was this.” 

He placed a thick leather-bound notebook in front of Will. He paused his rifling through the file to look through the pages. In gold lettering, it said ‘Laurel Gates’. He wasn’t sure who that was, but the owner of the book was unquestionable when Will read the contents. He slammed it closed. 

“This...This is…” he couldn’t get it out. 

“It’s her study of me.” Tyler supplied. “Her notes and hypothesis-.” 

“It’s a detailed record of how she tortured you!” Will corrected him. 

Tyler opened his mouth but drop it. Instead, he let his head fall. “I know.” 

“Why would you give me this?” He cried.

“Because it also has her findings on Julius Mugwort. A werewolf scientist and keen botanist.” He explained. “Apparently, he also tortured Hydes.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Will said in confusion. 

Tyler pulled out a wooden box. An ornate but faded crest at its centre. “She also had this of his in her possession.” He opened the box to reveal a deep blue velvet cushioning a tiny bottle. The bottle itself was shaped like an ancient greek vase, topped with a cork. But what intrigued Will more was the Latin inscription on the inside of the lid. It didn’t rearrange itself to him as Ancient Greek did. But it didn’t move as other letters did. His siblings and he could read Latin if they studied it as their father was the only god to not be split by the Roman and Greek divide.

“What is it?” He asked, as he gently picked it up. 

“It’s a potion that allows the Hyde complete control of their transformation.” He explained. 

Will uncorked it. Closing one eye to spy on the contents. He looked up “It’s empty.” He gave the bottle a sniff and found a weird-smelling residue.“Gods, what is that?”

Tyler gave an apologetic grimace. “I was hoping you could tell me.” 

Will couldn’t help it “Dammit Tyler, I’m a Doctor, not a scientist.” His cousin’s brows crinkled in confusion. “Star Trek.” Will mumbled. “But point stands.” Then a thought entered Will’s head, an epiphany. He immediately squashed the giddiness he felt, like a portcullis smashing into the stone ground. “Wait, does this mean you want to control it? To…” Will trailed off as he stared at his cousin. 

Tyler took a seat on his bed again. “I think what you said was right. At least, maybe,” he stalled. “I want to be able to make that decision myself.” 

Will gripped his knee tightly to stop him from jumping up and down in his chair. He bit the insides of his cheeks to stop himself him smiling too brightly. Then he remembered, his own power. How Nico had pulled back in confusion after their first kiss. The golden light reflected in his chocolate eyes. 

“Will?” Tyler broke his reverie. “You ok? You kind of just went…” he made a gesture around his face “voosh.” 

Will found himself stumbling into reality. “What? Sorry. No, It’s just-“ he put his smile back on, but it felt like it was being held up by scotch tape. “This is amazing. I think I have an idea about where we can find the ingredients to the potion.” 

Tyler let out a laugh of relief “Really?” He leaned forward. Will gave an emphatic nod, but he felt his stomach plummet. Even though his cousin was being open with him, it was a one way street. And Tyler didn’t know. He didn’t know that Will was walking on eggshells. That he was suppressing his own abilities around him. That no, in actual fact, Will didn’t trust him at all.

——————

Wednesday found herself in need of Xavier, a position she did not like finding herself in. She had learned from her mistakes and had built in a getaway with her fencing club starting soon. She was also going to be straightforward, he was not the suspect this time. So she had less need to hide her motivations. 

She and Xavier did not talk much over the break. At least, the conversation was one-sided. He kept sending her “memes”. He had been particularly proud of a picture of two houses, one rather nice black home and a garish one in pink and purple. Which he then said was Wednesday and Enid. Wednesday sent him back a computer virus in return. 

Their conversation face to face had been civil at best. Wednesday raised her hand to push open the door to Xavier’s Art studio, but paused, after a second of reconsideration, she knocked. 

“Who is it?” Came Xavier’s voice. 

“Me.” Wednesday answered. 

Xavier opened the door, already changed into his shirt and hoodie that he painted in. He sceptically looked down at Wednesday. 

“What do you want?” He asked. 

Wednesday’s jaw tightened “Advice and a little help.” 

“You,” Xavier blinked. A very annoying smile was starting to grow on his face. “From me.” 

“Yes.” She groused. 

He leaned against the door frame. “Lemme guess,” He mockingly brought a hand to his chin. “Nico di Angelo.” Wednesday's head cocked a few angles to the left, like a broken automaton. 

“I live with him. You think I wouldn’t notice that Things following him?” He asked. 

She pursed her lips “I’ll tell Thing to be more careful.” 

“He’s fine. I only guessed he was there because…” Xavier shifted awkwardly in the doorway. 

“What?” Wednesday pressed. He moved out of her way to give her a full view of his studio. The Hyde paintings from last year were still there, but they were pushed to the back. Instead, she found two very familiar faces. 

“If you tell him…” he warned her, as she walked in front of his current canvas. It was smaller than hers had been. But it was also in black and white, with the thick paint that seemed to be Xavier’s painting style. His dark hair turned into ink splatters. His dark eyes reflected little as he stared at something outside the bounds of the canvas. Wednesday eyed the details Xavier had added, like the odd dirt under his fingernails. “I don’t why. I don’t seem to be able to get it right. It looks off. He’s just been infuriating, which is why I’ve been, you know.“ he gestured to the paintings and the sketches he had made. “Maybe it’s symbolic.”

Some did look like Nico, and some seemed wrong but were consistent in their wrongness. Wednesday recognised it. 

“It’s because you’re not drawing Nico di Angelo. You’re drawing Arius.”

“Arius?” Xavier tested the name in his mouth like it was a familiar taste that he couldn’t quite place. “Arius Mabuz?” 

Wednesday whipped her head to him “How do you know him?”

“Goodie Addams founded the Nightshades, but Arius Mabuz was known for instating the Nightshades into Nevermore itself.” He explained. Xavier looked at the painting under a new light. “He was the last known Necromancer.” 

“He’s Nico’s ancestor.” Wednesday told him. She didn’t reveal that Arius was also a child of Hades, ergo Nico could have been as well. She knew little of what to make of it. She eyed Xavier’s desk, where she found loose sketchers and discard attempts. 

“Yeah, I see the resemblance.” He snorted. He angled his head as if the change in perspective would reveal something more. “I mean, I’ve been drawing him the whole time instead of Nico.” 

“You’ve been drawing Nico too.” She noted. She eyed a drawing of Nico in a toga. He wore his ripped jeans underneath and a black t-shirt it. His combat boots were there as well. However, his background seemed to be marble steps. His figure was slouching, but his face held intrigue. But his clothes were roman, and the inscriptions on the steps were in Latin. Surely, Ophelia would have referred to him as a child of Pluto instead. If he even was a demigod. 

“How do you know that?” He asked, coming up to where she was still eying the same drawing. He took on that same knowing smile. “I based that off the painting ‘Sappho and Alcaeus’ by Alma-Tadema.” 

She dropped it. Instead, she decided to answer his first question and went through a rough pile in her hand “Nico, Arius, Arius, Arius, Nico.” She told him. 

Xavier side-eyed her. “You’ve really studied him then.” He commented. It was the same tone he would say Tyler’s name in. Wednesday glared at him. 

“Di Angelo always wears a skull ring.” She points down to a picture. One where Xavier had really taken his artistic license on overdrive and had drawn Nico sleeping in a jar. 

“Yeah.” He said absently, but he still seemed sceptical. “Still, you seem to know a lot about him.”

“I need to keep my enemies close.” She said simply, as she rifled deeper into Xavier’s art pile. She still hadn’t found what she had been looking for in all this mess. 

“Like you did with me.” He noted sourly. 

“Obviously.” 

Xavier glared at her, but it didn’t stop her from rifling. She heard him taking a deep breath. “You trust him?” 

“I’d trust him as far as I could throw him.” She stated. “Without my homemade Ballista.”

“Ballista?” 

“A sophisticated roman catapult.” She sighed as if his ignorance was something that physically weighed her down. 

“We can agree on that then.” He watched her rifle through his pieces and materials with little care for the effort he had put into them. Xavier turned and picked up his latest water colour piece. There was a small lantern-lit figure at the bottom. His hand reached out to the stone effigies, there was no ring on his hand. 

“I’m guessing this is what you’re looking for?” He passed the piece to her and she snatched it up. She scanned all the details and markings. 

“Do you know where this is?” She asked. 

Xavier knew exactly where it was. He thought he had first drawn it as a what-if scenario, back when he thought he was drawing Nico. The idea then had made him a little uncomfortable but it had felt good to get it out of his system. Now, knowing that he had something to do with whatever conspiracy Wednesday was untangling, made his whole body feel light. 

He felt like one of those civilians who had been told that their local mailman was actually a murderer. That all those times they had considered inviting him inside and had been dangerous. That when they were alone in the house, he could have so only easily changed their fate. Xavier felt like fate had just quickly tugged his string out of the way of being tangled, or cut. 

“Xavier.” Wednesday snapped. 

“The Crypts. I was drawing the crypts under the school.”  

——————

Fencing was not Piper’s thing. The suit was claustrophobic and she could feel a second skin of sweat starting to form between the thick quilting and her skin. Unlike Camp Half-Bloods combat, there was a strict posture, forgettable rules and a number of funny names for things. 

She had found herself disqualified on a number of occasions. Enid flipped open her helmet to give her an encouraging smile. “You’re really good for someone who’s never fenced before. I can’t get a touch on you.” 

“Stage combat.” She panted. She eyed Wednesday in the middle of the room. She was hard to miss in her black gear. She also fought like a whip, clean and precise. It reminded her of Reyna’s fighting style. There was something militaristic in her movement. Her muscle knew exactly how much energy to extort. Even the wilder turns felt compact and precise when she made them. 

“Wednesday’s dad put a sword in her hand since she could clench a fist.” Enid told her, as she ended up beside her. Her opponent seemed equally competent. Her strokes were graceful but vicious. “That’s Bianca Barclay. She’s practically Queen of Nevermore.” Piper tried to hide a sneer as she was reminded of her half-sister, Drew. Hopefully, this Bianca wasn’t so much a Regina George wanna-be as Drew was. Or at least, wasn’t so insufferably in Piper’s face.

There was a cry behind them, and both girls turned to find someone lying on the floor. Red was dripping from his hand, staining his white outfit as he pressed it to his chest. His sword lay abandoned at his side, the remaining blood on its metal and the parquet floors. 

She found Bianca running past and kneeling down by the boy. They both had scales shimmering under their skin, along with arctic eyes. 

“What happened?” Bianca asked. 

The boy just grimaced in pain as the teacher made his way to them. “Can you stand?” The boy’s answer was a hiss of more pain. Tears formed in his eyes as he couldn’t take it. Piper stood there conflicted. 

“And it just healed,” Enid said. Piper turned to her and found that Wednesday had also materialised nearby. “He had burned his hand in Acidic chemistry.” 

Wednesday tutted “Teachers should know better than to give sharp objects to idiots.” 

Piper saw the kid's face drain of blood as he stared down at the red of his hand. Piper had been in Aphrodite's cabin long enough to know when someone was going to faint. She lurched forward. 

“Hey, you can make it to the infirmary, right?” She said kneeling down to his level. And like that he had snapped out of it and dumbly nodded at Piper. “The teacher’s taking you.” To anyone else, she sounded as if she was informing him. 

Well, to all but two. 

The teacher helped the kid stand. “The club shall end early today, for obvious reasons.” He said as he helped the stumbling siren out of there. Piper finally glanced at Bianca, who stared at her in curiosity. She was scanning Piper’s face for something. Then glanced down at the beads around her neck, her brows furrowing as if she expected something else. 

She wasn’t entirely what Piper was expecting either, but was in the same ballpark. She was pristine, with not a bead of sweat on her. And her make-up was painstakingly applied. Her eyelids glittered gold underneath the chandelier’s warm light. 

“Who are you?” She asked, but the tone wasn’t accusatory. 

“Piper.” She said simply before she turned back to Enid. 

“You’re the Harbinger.” She looked her up and down. 

But Piper didn’t answer as she saw someone in black fencing gear make their way out of the hall. Without saying much else to Bianca, Piper ran after Wednesday. 

“Hey, wait up.” She called. Piper cursed as she was still wearing the sweaty stinking gear. Wednesday did not stop. Piper felt the deja vu, as she had started the day by chasing a short raven-haired individual. “Wednesday!” She called out. But unlike Nico, Wednesday stopped. 

She had raised a single brow. 

“I’m Piper.” She greeted. “The transfer-“

“I know.” She interrupted. Piper stuttered into confusion. “I dorm with Enid. She told me about you.”

“And she told you about the prophecy.” Piper went on. Wednesday didn’t say anything, just unblinkingly stared up at Piper. “I was wondering if you’ve found anything yet.” 

“Why would I tell you that?” She slighted. 

“Because I want to help. I found the prophecy.” Piper told her, as she put her hands on her hips.

“No.” With that, she turned to leave. 

“Did I do something to you?” She called after her. 

Wednesday stopped. “You controlled that boy with your voice, a Siren. Who aren’t susceptible to Siren song.” 

“I’m not a siren.” Piper defended herself. 

“I honestly don’t care. What I do know, is that I can’t trust you.” She spoke evenly. There was no anger or spite. Just a simple declaration. Like there was a cue card reader just over Piper’s shoulder and Wednesday was just reading off it. “You just used it brazenly on someone you didn’t know, like you’ve done it a million times before. How do I know you won’t do it to me?” 

Piper soured at the accusation. “I wouldn’t.” 

“It’s nothing personal. But I’ve had trouble in the past when it came to trusting strangers.” Wednesday walked away. Enid eyed them from afar. She couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she could have probably guessed it wasn’t good by the look on Piper’s face. 

“Don’t let her get to you.” Came a voice by her shoulder. Piper nearly jumped, as she found Bianca Barclay standing next to her. “She’s not worth it.” 

Piper found a part of herself agreeing, but didn’t give it any recognition. “You sound like you have experience.” 

“She beat me a couple of times.” Bianca shrugged lightly, but the look in her eyes told Piper that the losses cut Bianca a lot deeper than she acted. “Forget her.” 

“Like you?” Piper turned. Maybe this was a Regina and Janis fiasco. 

“Like my ex-boyfriend. Wednesday strung him along to see if he was a murderer and then planted fake evidence to get him thrown in jail.” 

“What in Hades?” Piper cursed, her forehead furrowed as she stared at the blip of Wednesday’s retreating figure. “Is he ok?” 

“He’s rooming with your creepy friend.” Bianca supplied as she started to walk. Piper found herself following along. 

“Nico’s not a creep.” She automatically defended. Bianca eyed her sceptically. 

“Whatever.” She went on. “You and him are obviously different. Is that common with Harbingers?” 

Piper folded her arms as she tried to skate around the answer “No one’s quite like Nico.” 

“And yourself?” She asked. 

“What about me?” Piper feigned confusion. 

“Look, the other sirens may not have noticed but I know it when I see it.” She said, lowering her voice. Piper didn’t say anything. “But you’re not a siren are you? We can’t enchant our own.” 

Piper didn’t realise they had stopped walking. A few people eyed them as they walked past, but not enough to eavesdrop. 

“Some of my sisters can do it too.” She said. “We get it from our mom.” 

“Was she a siren of some kind?” Bianca pressed, but it wasn’t urgent. There was nothing but earnest curiosity in her eyes. She walked on, careful to keep Piper close to her side. 

“I don’t think there’s any relation.” She hadn’t remembered any when they covered sirens in their Ancient Greek classes. Though, she wasn’t the best at paying attention to them. 

Bianca stopped and Piper halted a few steps ahead. She was staring at something, and an idea seemed to be forming in her head. Piper just eyed her cautiously. 

“You free tonight?” She asked. “Jericho has this junk yard that’s really happening on the weekends.”

“It’s Thursday.” Piper corrected her. “So, I’ll probably just be in my dorm.”

“Of course.” Bianca gave a small laugh to herself, but Piper didn’t like the look in her eye as she turned to leave in a different direction they had been previously walking in. “But you gotta come to that party this weekend. I’ll see you there.” She left before Piper could get a word in. 

She turned to see what Bianca had been looking at. But she only found the Edgar Allen Poe statue staring back at her. 

Chapter Text

Nico had always thought he was a light sleeper like his eyelids were extra thin. Back when he was alone, he felt himself jump awake at any twig crack or slight wind change. However, once he integrated back into society, everyone told him that wasn’t the case. His body went entirely limp and unmoving. His breathing was so shallow that once a younger camper had reported him dead to Will. 

Yet, he still felt alert as he always did. He still felt like he was half awake when he walked through his friends' dreams and ran from his nightmares. It was like he was submerged in water and he could easily see the surface above him, the sounds and colours filtering to him down below. Maybe that’s why he never felt like he had gotten a good night's rest.

So he didn’t know whether it was Xavier’s loud footsteps or the quick evaporation of his dreamscape that alerted Nico first. He feigned a sleepy shuffle as he repositioned himself. He could feel Xavier’s eyes lock on to him, before slowly drifting back to his task. Nico opened one eye. Xavier was dropping a dark robe over his head. The fabric comes off as purple in the stripes of light coming from their window.

Nico closed his eyes when Xavier gave him a final once-over. Before he slowly pulled the door open and slipped out.

He sat up and watched artificial light glow underneath his door. Nico waited as he heard another set of steps joins Xavier’s. The light grew brighter as another flashlight joined. 

“He’s not awake, is he?” Someone rather badly whispered. Xavier, he presumed, shushed the other. 

“Yeah, he was out. But…I think he’s on to us.” Xavier muttered. Nico strained to hear him through the grain of the door. 

“That’s not good.” The other voice moaned. He could see a pair of feet shuffle under the door. 

“It’s not that bad.” Xavier corrected. 

“He’s a creep.” The other exclaimed, at least as much as one could while whispering. 

“He’s…” Xavier faltered. “It’s nearly time, we better go.” 

Nico watched the bright light disappear and he was left in the quiet of the dorm. The moon was out tonight and drowned everything in a deep blue. Nico stared up at the ceiling. He weighed his options. Go back to sleep, which he was rather biased to. Or get out of bed and follow. Nico rolled his eyes, and with it his body. He donned his leather jacket. He debated on his shoes. His boots tended to be creaky. So he opted for a soft-soled pair.

He put a hand on the doorknob and paused. There was still one other problem. Nico sunk to the ground and put an ear on the wooden floor. He rested his palm down beside him, just in case he felt any vibrations. He was sure it was out there. He knew it had been guarding his door as soon as he went to bed. And Xavier’s excursion had most likely awoken or alerted it. 

Then in the silence, came the drills of fingertips.

Thing, he had learned, had been following him since his collision with Wednesday. Obviously, she didn’t trust him. So many people did that Nico had stopped taking it personally a long time ago. While he didn’t suspect the girl of anything, he also didn’t like playing into people’s hands. Or hand, in this case. 

Nico eyed his surroundings. There were certainly enough shadows to travel, but he now only tried to use that as a last resort. Nico eyed the window. He quickly went over and opened it. He was not such a fool that he thought he could jump into the pile of snow down below. But there were enough stone decorations for him to climb down. 

Nico looked back to the door, as he heard Thing’s scuffling get louder. He quickly grabbed his desk chair and tucked it underneath the handle. While he would like to play with it, he didn’t want to rouse its suspicions just yet. 

He stepped out the window and quickly started to climb down. The ice made some parts slippery. Others were covered with snow which made their grips deceiving. But Nico had learned to climb on a wall with actual lava, so he would take this any day. 

Nico eyed the uncleared snow on the ground beneath him. And climb around it. He didn’t want to leave a trace. 

“She had a dagger in her room.” A girl’s voice said. Nico’s curiosity was peeked, as he landed on the snow-cleared ground and quietly padded his way to the voices. 

“So? I’m pretty sure Wednesday has a guillotine.” Xavier’s voice rang out. 

“It was under her pillow. Along with a bunch of other stuff.” The girl went on. “Are you sure about this Bianca?” 

Nico’s shoulder tightened. He had heard of this Siren, and while she bore no resemblance or connections with his sister whatsoever. He couldn’t help feeling the lead pile in his stomach.

“She’s powerful. I can feel it. Plus, she seems like fun.” She added lightly, which seemed to placate the purple cultist to some degree. Nico questioned whether she was using charm speak or if the people around her really followed her so blindly.

“Ok, final stretch,” Bianca stated. They all leaned down to pick up a limb of the body. The poor unconscious soul was only a few inches above the cold floor as they hauled them down the corridor. Nico only caught the slightest glimpse when they passed him. 

The body was wearing a bright orange shirt. Nico eyes widen. It was a camp half-blood t-shirt. He could see feathers braided into her hair. The strands coming out of the hood they put over her head. A lighting bracelet around her wrist, the one Jason had given to her. That was Piper’s limp body they were kidnapping.

“Careful.” Hissed one of the hooded members carrying her. They wore ornate gold masks, but Nico could recognise the chin as Xavier’s. He had just gotten a pimple there yesterday.

“Put her down here.” Bianca commanded as they reached the Poe alcove. There were two crisp snaps. Nico heard the sliding of stone, followed by their footsteps turning echoey. Then silence. 

He carefully eyed around the corner, to find the spot empty. He walked into the alcove confused. Had the snapping sound been some kind of switch? Nico scanned the walls but found nothing.

He looked up at the poet, stepping up so that he was face to face. There was no switch on him either. Nico eyed the book he was holding. Nico stared down at the writing, the words gently swirling in front of him like they were ink on water. Even if that was the clue, it was hopeless to Nico. 

Nico pulled the raven, using his body as leverage. Nothing happened. He tried flicking the quill. Maybe he needs to pull the book or kick the seat? But that showed equally fruitless results. Nico sighed, landing in a pile on the floor staring up at, who Nico deemed, to be his least favourite poet. 

He wiggled his fingers against the cold stone. He could feel something pull underneath him like it was calling him to sink, to plunge in. He could feel shadows. He turned so that both palms could press flat. There was a cavern of some sort underneath him. But there was also something underworldly about it too. He only had one option. 

He called upon the shadows to take him down. 

He found himself in a cult of some sort. He reached for the shadows around him like they were a physical tether. He knew that they turned almost opaque around him, and would shroud him. They tended to do it whether he liked it or not, clinging to him like thick mud. But even still, he tucked himself behind one of the pillars in the room. 

“She’s not awake is she?” Someone asked nervously. They peeked under her hood and sighed in relief. 

“You still need to tie her up.” Bianca told the group. There were now more of them. Two of them were fiddling with a projector. Hissing as their Bluetooth didn’t connect. Others seemed to go to and fro from another room off to the side. A cultist went to Piper’s hands and started to bind them together. 

Nico bristled at the action. But he knew better than to pounce. 

“We need to prepare.” Bianca told the group. Though she seemed to address the air more like she was simply manifesting the idea and others happened to be there. Nico wasn’t sure what to make of her. She wasn’t exactly on his favourite person list or even in his like person list. At first glance, she looks like she would fit in with the Aphrodite cabin. But the way she used fashion was like a weapon. He remembered Lacy telling him something like that when he substituted a sparring class in the autumn. That confidence, expectations of people and wanting their blinding trust in them felt very Athenian. Which made him wary.

She had swanned out of the room, her purple robe gliding where for others it glomped. Nico almost missed the last individual in the room as he nearly knotted his hands into Piper’s binding. 

“Wait.” He called as he finished his task and slipped through the closing door. Nico waited a moment. Surely that had left a guard of some sort but when Nico stepped into the light, no one accosted him. There was a slight murmur from the doors they had vanished behind but besides that nothing. 

Nico shelved his surprise to focus back on Piper, but then he stopped again. 

A bow. 

They had tied her up with a bow.

Nico blinked at the stupidity. Though he quickly chastised himself for looking a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe this was all the good karma coming through from all the terrible karma he got on quests. He quickly ripped off the hood. 

To find her wide away and staring at him. 

“Nico?” 

“Piper.” He said back to her. Both were too confused to flare up their previous anger. 

“What are you doing here?” She whispered to him. 

“Rescuing you,” he said slowly. “…I think?” 

“They hit my head three times and nearly dropped me. Nico, I let them kidnap me.” 

Nico’s eyes glanced at the painfully easy knot. The adrenaline and fight slipped out of his body “Honestly, that makes so much more sense.” He glanced back at the overly ornate doors where the cult was hatching their plan. Entirely unaware of their conversation. “I’ll be…over there, I guess.” He pointed behind her. 

“Sounds good.” Piper nodded as Nico pulled the hood back over her head and went back to the pillar. At that moment, the cultist came back into the room. One of them holding a vial of smelling salts.

Two of them went to the projector. One of them gave it a small thump. The blue start screen glares through the room. Nico squeezed his whole body behind the pillar, pressing his back into the marble as the light revealed everything on either side of him. He watched as the light turned grey. The images of ravens fluttering on the floor and shelves. 

Nico’s head shot up as he heard someone else venture closer to him. The rustle of fabric filled the room.

“Where am I?” Piper said in distress. Nico pursed his lips. She genuinely did sound confused. 

“We are the Nightshades.” Said a deeply modulated voice. Nico’s mouth fell open in a gape. He was speechless. He couldn't believe they had a voice modulator, smelling salts and a projector for this convoluted kidnapping. Nico knew there wasn’t exactly a book or a class on abductions, but come on. There was too much style and not enough substance. “And you, Piper McLean have been chosen to be a new member.” 

——————

Wednesday stared into the black hole that was the Crypts. Although she couldn’t see anything beyond where she stood, she knew this to be the place. She always felt a pang of deja vu when she visited vision sites. But this dark gnawing tunnel, with graves in the wall, is certainly high on her list of favourite vision sites she has come across. She couldn’t fault Arius on taste, only descendants. 

There was a screech of metal behind her as Eugene finally got through the rusty gates that were supposed to be keeping them out. 

“Couldn’t we go during the day?” Enid whined. She shuffled away from the dripping puddle that had grown a statue of mould at its centre. Her nose curled from all the heightened smells only she was getting.

“We would draw too much attention.” Wednesday lied. The truth was that Thing had given the all-clear on Nico. It was better to have the upper hand, and if he believed they hadn’t gone into his lair. They would get exactly that. “Take these.” She handed each of them a hand crank light. 

“We have our flashlights.” Enid held hers up. “And phones.” 

“It’s a precaution. Ghosts have been known to tamper with electrical circuits.” 

“G-g-ghosts?” Eugene stuttered.

“Of course. We’re dealing with a necromancer.” She said, with a jut of her chin. She cranked her flashlight and stepped through. She didn’t look back to see if her companions had followed. 

“I can deal with creepiness. But I hate damp.” Enid voiced, as she clamped her nose. She stared at the square carvings on the wall, denoting corpses that were buried on the other side. “I can’t believe this used to be a make-out spot.” 

“Really?” Eugene asked.

“It used to be called Lover’s crypt.” She told him, as she used her claws to lift some cobwebs away from her hair.

“For once, I can agree with the romance.” Wednesday commented as they moved further in. Then she stopped, as she found the flashlight illuminating a solid rock, a dead end.

“Well, that was fun. Best Adventure yet, Wednesday.” Enid cheered. “Well, let’s go back up.”

“That can’t be it.” Wednesday turned to them. 

“It’s always been like this.” Eugene added. Wednesday was undeterred and made her way around the two. She charged back, keeping her eyes open for any kind of trap door or hidden passage. She swayed her flashlight side to side as if it would reveal something. 

And there, as if the stone had turned reflective, she found a shadow where there shouldn’t have been one. But only for a second. She stopped in front of it. 

“It’s just a wall, Wednesday.” Enid whined, her voice coming out nasal through her blocked nose.

But Wednesday raised her hand out to it, carefully feeling her skin connect with the grooves of the rock. Then as if it was putty or not even that, she went past it. Her hand went through the solid like it wasn’t even there. And when she focussed on the whole of it, the wall wasn’t. 

“But there was a wall a second a gone.” Eugene told them all. He cranked his flashlight again as if it were a trick of the failing light. But the wall had disappeared, as if it were mist. Wednesday stepped through. 

She shot the light down. This tunnel was breaking at its seams. What Wednesday had seemed in her vision as measly roots, had thickened to strangle the cavern. It was as if they were in the gullet of a snake, and above them was the spine of the beast. The walls, which Wednesday knew had been carved out of pure stone, looked like mosaics. Some look no different than the calloused rock surface of the tunnel prior. 

She saw carvings of a three-headed dog guarding a grand gothic palace. A man, cloaked in what looked like souls, sat on its throne. While a beautiful fragile woman sat beside him on an equally great seat.  

There were frescos of great battles between ancient soldiers, but the buildings behind harked back to the Georgian period. Plus, Pegasi and great eagles flew above them all. Two flags flutter in static wind above the two factions, “CHB” to the right and “SPQR” to the left. 

Wednesday stopped at the image of a grand hill. It had lost its depth since the last time Wednesday saw it. Some of the buildings, once decorated with skulls, lighting and tridents, were nothing but tiny bulges in the rock. 

“Who did all this?” Enid breathed, her hand released from her nose. She lifted her phone to take a picture, ghosts are dammed. Wednesday knew the answer but started to walk towards the mausoleum instead. 

“Actually,” Enid said, as she stepped into the room. “I don’t wanna know.”

Time had been unkind to this place. Though she could still have sent this to her dad as interior design inspiration. The six statues that guarded the room had lost limbs or all recognition. Instead of beautiful carvings, they looked like the petrified victims of Pompeii. An arm, still holding a dagger, was shattered on the ground. A statue that had once worn a silver helmet now wore no head at all. The faces in the walls were no better. They looked as if they were scraping to get out. Their faces were now gormless holes. Wednesday took out her phone to take a picture. She was going to make this her lock screen. 

“Look for clues or anything of interest.” She told them as she made her way to the one piece Arius was most interested in, a pair of obsidian doors. She gave it a push and found it immovable as if it were another wall. Wednesday let her fingers trace the grooves. Arius hadn’t completed this in her vision but now they were all that had remained. Five distinct rivers cut through the metal, each with greek writing Wednesday couldn’t decipher it. She had leaned more towards Latin. Translators always seemed to sanitise occult texts when they put them into English. 

“Enid, take a picture of the door, make sure to get a clear view of the writing.” She ordered. Enid moved from where she was bathing in the moonlight from a hole in the ceiling. It looked like it had been added at a later date. The ceiling mimicked a bone church commonly found in Christian European architecture. Uncle Fester had done some contract work for one of those places when they needed a replacement of a few pieces. But this hole rather uncaringly punctured this beautiful homage.

“Are those math symbols?” Enid’s voice rang out. Her flash caused that side of the room to blink into existence. “Oh, do you think it’s an equation?” 

“It’s Ancient Greek.” 

Her eyes darted to one of the six statues in the room. “Are those like-“ she gave Wednesday a queasy look “-Graves?”

“Probably.” Wednesday shrugged. “They’re siblings to the last Necromancer, Arius Mabuz.”

“None of them are called Mabuz.” Eugene informed her, as he moved his flashlight from one plaque to another. 

“They’re half-siblings. They only share a father.”

“How do you know that?” Enid asked, turning round to face her roomie, arms crossed. 

Wednesday took a moment as the two stared at her. “Because they're demigods.” Eugene’s eyes widened. While Enid looked more confused. “Their father is the greek god Hades, lord of the underworld.” 

“Like the villain from Hercules?” Her eyes finally widened. 

“No,” Wednesday shot her down. “That was Hera.” 

“So they’re all demigods.” Eugene cut in, as he looked up at the statues in a new light. He looked at the bronze weapons at their feet and slowly reached a hand out for it. The closest was a tarnished circular shield covered in intricately carved bees and a bejewelled pomegranate at its centre. The ruby eyes of the insects and jewelled seeds winked at him like the tiny eyes of his hives. 

Enid’s flash stunned the room once again, as she took a picture of an ornate spear. In the white, Wednesday caught a glimpse of something huddled in the corner. She felt excitement bristle within her as the shadows looked like sarcophagi. However, these were stoppered with corks. They also seemed to be half buried in the ground. 

She was going to call out to Enid to take a picture when she heard a loud clang reverberate through the room. The shield spun on the floor, till it ran out of momentum and lay in the dirt at Eugene’s feet. 

“Sorry.” Eugene grimaced. Enid took a deep breath as she retracted her claws. 

“You’re lucky everything’s dead down here.” Wednesday groused. Enid’s head flicked upwards like elastic. Her nose twisted in the air. 

“I’m not sure about that.” Enid whimpered. 

Tiny stars blinked into existence. Crumbs of rocks fell to the floor. The shadows started to flutter and sharpen above them. Wednesday, still crouching by the jars, shot her light upwards. 

Bats screeched. 

They unravelled like the wind. Whipping towards them in columns of claws and teeth. Through the darkness, Wednesday could see Enid scratch at them. The bats falling around her only made the others swarm her even more. Eugene had taken to using his shield to cover his face as he cowered at the base of a statue. 

Wednesday pushed herself up to protect her friends. The clay of the jar turned into a spark under her hand. The feeling rippled through her body as if they were cogs clicking into place. She could feel her body slowly being taken over into the darkness. Wednesday tried to battle it down. To feel her sense of self. But the last thing she saw was glimpses of Enid and Eugene. Their screams were muted by the screeching of the bats. 

Before the whole world turned dark and everything was washed away by the wind. 

Wednesday strained her ears to hear her friends but found only the hushed silence of the woods. Enid had once asked her if her visions were like dreams. They weren’t. Wednesday couldn’t feel in dreams. Here she felt everything, down to the last insignificant detail. She can feel the weight of her feet as her shoes sank into the mud, even though she would leave no footprint. She smelt the distance notes of smoke that lingered under the night air. She could feel her nails biting into the palm of her hand. She hated it all.

She was blind. She couldn’t hear their screams. The bats. The claws could be sinking into her skin and she knows nothing. 

Wednesday heard the crunching footsteps coming towards her. The steps were rushed and sloppy. The owner was none other than her dreaded ancestor, Ophelia. Wednesday wanted to see if she could punch a ghost. 

“Arius.” She shouted. Her hair, slightly longer, was braided in the French style. Her eyes rimmed red against her pale skin.

“Surprised to see you here.” Arius said. Wednesday turned to where he had appeared from the shadows. Bathed in moonlight, he looked more like Nico. That wasn’t just it though. His cheeks looked hollow as well. His stance was open and limp as if he were only being held up by a string. 

“You can’t do this Arius.” She pleaded. 

He didn’t seem phased by her reaction “Can’t I?” 

“It was her decision.” Ophelia’s voice warbled. Wednesday rolled her eyes. Her foot tapping impatiently, like she could conduct this conversation to a faster tempo.

He stepped closer towards her. His left hand pulled a white spear out of the shadows. It was beautifully grotesque. A dark twisting bark formed its base and out of it, like a seed growing from a pod, was a pearly white spine that grew to a sharp point.  “And what should I do then? Do nothing like you?” He accused. 

Ophelia didn’t seem phased by the attack. “I wouldn’t let her sacrifice be in vain.” Arius rolled his eyes and continued on. Ophelia didn’t go after him. “I also wouldn’t be so vain to think I could save everyone.” 

“Well, I’d rather die trying.” He ground out. 

“You just might.” She said as she followed after him. “And what can you do then? What about the next generation of demigods? Your future siblings.” Arius ignored her, as Wednesday believed he made his way towards the town. “Gods, can’t you think ahead for once?”

Arius turns “Can’t you tell me what happens ahead for once?” 

Ophelia folds her lip into her mouth and glares up at the boy. Wednesday eyes the two. She prefers the atmosphere of animosity, but something catches her eye up ahead. Small moving lights bob between the trees. The perfect height for a mob holding torches. The two turn their heads as well. Ophelia squints her eyes to try and get a clearer image. 

Arius's face goes blank. He stares into the light like he knows what it is. And charges on ahead. 

————————

Bianca holds a hand up and everyone silences. The room is much smaller than the last one. Making all the other members form a tighter and more insidious circle around Piper. The rest of the room seems to be filled up with blossoms of purple Nightshades. But even the flowers have a gnarled and spooky vibe to them. However, Piper finds herself weirdly at home here. The structure looks roman, with its pillars and arches. And the facades on top, depicting wild creatures of greek mythology remind her of camp. With their incorrect features and unfinished carvings. 

One of the members brings out a velvet box. Carrying it in the way one does when it’s ceremonial. 

“Piper McLean, are you prepared to take the Nightshade oath?” Bianca asked, her voice echoing perfectly throughout the room. This was a roman structure. 

Piper looked around at the other members. “What does that entail exactly?”

Bianca sighed. “It’s nothing serious. You don’t have to swear allegiance or anything, just keep it a secret.”

“We mostly have drinks, coordinate the Rave’n afterparty and catch all the latest gossip.” Yoko informed her. “Plus I base a drink on you at our secret bar.” She nodded her head to a gold door on the other side of the room. 

“All you have to do is swear an oath on the Nightshade dagger.” Bianca explained and unlocked the box to reveal a thin golden dagger. Piper knew that weird glow. “You hold it by the blade.” She said as she held it out for Piper to take. She saw her uneasy reflection mirrored back in the blade’s polished metal. Bianca leaned forward “I know it looks all sharp, but it’s pretty blunt.” She whispered. 

“Oh, really?” Piper feigned, as she gingerly picked up the knife. She held it as lightly as she could, but celestial bronze and imperial gold were as sharp as anything to demigods. They were like a paper cut sharp. 

“Do you, Piper McLean -”

“Yup.” She cut to. 

“Answer after you hear the question.” Bianca informed her. Piper was going to nod her head but she didn’t want the sudden movement to create any cuts. 

“Do you Piper McLean, swear to uphold the secrecy of the Nightshades?” 

“I do.” She could feel the blade bite into her skin.

“Do you swear to uphold the values of the Nightshades?” 

“I will.” 

“Most importantly, do you swear to protect the Outcast community from anyone that means it harm or ill will?” She spoke finally. 

Piper could feel the blood trickle into a drop. It was so close to falling to the floor. “I do.” 

“Then you, Piper McLean, are herby a member of the Nightshades.” She inducted her. One of the other sirens let off a confetti cannon. Piper twisted the knife so that the handle was now in her hands. And she pointed the blade towards the sound. 

“Woah, it’s just some confetti.” Xavier placated, as he took down his hood. Everyone eyed her. 

“I get a bit jumpy, that’s all.” She muttered. Quickly wiping the blood off her hands. She didn’t notice Yoko let out a sniff. She handed back the knife to Bianca and wipe the rest of the blood on her shirt. It wasn’t like it didn’t already have blood stains. 

“Well, now it’s time for the proper indoctrination.” Bianca told her and linked arms with Piper. Piper found herself blinking at the gesture as she was quickly whisked away into Yoko’s speakeasy. 

Yoko stood there frowning as the younger initiates started to sweep the confetti off the floor. One of them pulled out a vacuum from one of the hidden cupboards in the wall and started sucking the stuff up. It was easier to see Yoko’s facial expressions during the night, as they weren’t covered up by her dark shades. It was just one of the small observations Xavier noted. Well, it was more that he approached her more when the sun was down than when it was up. 

“You alright?” He asked as he pushed the mask off his face. 

She furrowed her brow. “I smelt blood.” 

“When?” 

“On her. When she held the knife.” Yoko explained. 

“You couldn’t even cut an apple with that thing.” Xavier voiced. He remembered holding the blade as well. It had been a long Nightshade tradition. His dad had held it and sworn an oath. Originally blood was spilt when the oath was made, but that was a very long time ago. Xavier wasn’t exactly sure when the change had been made, either when they had got tired of sharpening the thing or when the blood-transferable disease became more widely known. 

“Yoko! You gonna join or what?” Someone cheered from the next room. 

“I remember someone saying that it signified something, a long time ago.” She noted, before wandering off. That was the other reason Xavier didn’t hang out with Yoko or any vampire in that case. At first, they appeared ageless but then they would indelicately drop historical facts or anecdotes that sent their conversation partner reeling. 

The thought stuck in Xavier’s head like gum. He went back to the velvet box where the ceremonial dagger was kept. It was still a little warm from when Piper had held it. Its edges were as blunt as a spoon. Even now, when the point rested against his finger, he didn’t feel a thing. But there was a slight tinge to it. Parts where the gold looked a tad orange. 

He reached out for the leaver that would unlock the Founding room. He had only been there once back when he and Bianca had first started dating. It was only ever used by club members for seven-minute heaven. So he had never technically seen the room, but he knew that this is where they kept their initiation archive and history. 

But he paused when he saw a blue light under the library door. He ignored the initiates, who mostly focused on their cleaning and quietly slipped into the room. 

The glow dissipated, like a puff of smoke. For a second he thought it was a trick of the light until he saw a hand wave in the dark. 

“How was that helpful?” Xavier knew that voice. A white hand was thrown up in exasperation before slipping back into the darkness. Xavier pushed in closer. The shadows were more like a fog, growing thicker or thinner with distance. But as he ventured closer, the silhouette of his roommate came to view. Nico had his back to him and was scanning the shelf for something, carefully pulling one of the books out by its spine.

“Bit late for a stroll.” Xavier commented. Nico turned. His eyes immediately turned into slits. “Show me your ring.” Xavier declared, remembering what Wednesday had discovered. Nico blinked. His posture relaxed slightly as he was taken aback. Slowly he raised his hand to show his black skull ring. “So it’s you at least.”

Nico gestured to himself with his lazy flapping hands “Who else could I be?” 

“Don’t play games, Nico. I know.” He pressed. His eyes constantly flicked back to the half-pulled book. He knew that tome well. 

“Know what?” He asked cautiously. 

“Your secret.” He hissed, the words nearly drowned out by the distant vacuum. 

Nico’s eyes looked everywhere but Xavier. Not in an evasive way, but as if all his thoughts were written out for him on the floor and he was trying to find the right one. Finally, he looked up, “Which one?” 

Xavier’s mouth fell a bit open. “The secret.” He floundered on. “Wait, how many do you have?” 

“I don’t count them.” He said indignantly. “Everyone has secrets.” 

“Not healthy people.” 

“Do I look healthy to you?” Nico drawled. 

Xavier huffed. “That’s not the point. I have a right to know who I’m bunking with.” 

Nico leaned against the shelf. Only the tips of his nose and cheek were illuminated by the cold sconces. “I can ask the housemaster for a room change if it annoys you that much.” 

“What are you?” Xavier ploughed on. He felt as if he was talking to Wednesday again. The evasive phrases, the backhanded compliments and the forward insults, why couldn’t they just talk like normal people?

Nico’s mouth hung open a little as he tried to remember the right word “Harbingers?”. But his inching hand didn’t go unnoticed by Xavier, it seemed as if he was summoning something out of the darkness.

“Are you saying or asking?” Xavier stretched his own hand as he felt that magnetic pull to one of the books. He could feel the pictures wrestling to get out. “What do you call yourselves?” 

Xavier knew that face. He had seen it on Wednesday many times. The closed for business sign. Everything that you thought was pale skin and pale cheekbones turned to stone. The eye’s darkening and giving you that Macbeth glare. The shoulders winded up as if it was coiled ready to spring.

“You don’t wanna play twenty questions again?” Xavier goaded, stepping closer. Xavier wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but it looked as if a sword had appeared in Nico’s hand out of nothingness. 

Xavier whipped out his palm. The book that Nico had pulled out burst open. And from its pages, flew a thick set of chains. It clamped onto Nico’s wrists and pulled him into the light. Dragging him downwards. The sword lay abandoned at his sides. The shadows around it looked like it was trying to grab it. 

“Well?” He asked. 

Nico looked up at Xavier and this was a look he never saw Wednesday wearing. He could see the whites of Nico’s eyes. He looked past Xavier as if there was a ceiling above him that was closing in. Xavier was weirdly reminded of that abstract drawing he had painted, the one with a tiny Nico in a bronze jar. Nico here had that one quality that his paintings never shared with the Nico he saw every day: the roughness. Faint scars on his brow. The lightest of freckles on his cheeks. How he actually had pretty dorky ears. 

Then it was gone. The stone-cold mask had slipped back into place. Nico’s eyes seemed that impossible shade of black, one where depth became unknowable. But that’s not why Xavier stumbled back.

“Xavier?” One of the Nightshades called. 

Both their heads snapped to the door. Xavier kicked the book closed and the chains vanished. Nico sprouted up, like a wild animal being released back into the wild. 

“Go.” Xavier hissed. Nico backed away into the shadows. “No, it’s-“ Xavier pointed to the exit but there was no one he was pointing for. Nico had disappeared. 

“Xavier, what are you doing in here?” Bianca asked as she made her way into the room. She had lost the robe but the mask was still perched on her head. Her makeup an ombre of black and the slight dustings of gold. Piper hovered behind her, and while Bianca seemed unaware of the previous events, Xavier didn’t like the look in Piper’s eyes. Nico looked the same whenever he entered a room. 

“Just wanted a bit of space.” He mumbled. “These places have terrible ventilation.” 

“I know. But none of the alumni wants to be known as the one that fixed the AC. Not exactly plaque worthy.” She commented airily.  She smiled at Piper before she followed the sound of the party. 

Piper stood there awkwardly, but Xavier wouldn’t describe it as awkward. Nothing about her seemed to be awkward. 

“You’re Nico’s roommate, right?” She asked. 

Xavier nodded “He talks about me?” 

She gave a non-committal shrug. “He doesn’t talk to me about much.” Her eyes seemed drawn to the shadows where Nico had once hidden. Whenever she thought Xavier wasn’t looking, she would send searching glances that way. Xavier picked up the book that Nico had tried to steal. 

“Are you two close?” He asked as he unfolded the delicate pages that had gotten crushed in the fight. The designs of weapons and machinery cover every inch of the page.

“He was closer to my ex.” Piper confessed quietly into the air. 

“And you two are still friends?” He asked. He couldn’t think of any of Bianca’s friends that he was all that close to after the breakup. Friends tended to pick the extroverted side, rather than the introvert. 

“Jason, my ex, was one of my best friends.” She went on. But this only made Xavier more confused. 

“So we're Bianca and I when we started dating.” 

Piper finally looked up at him. “I don’t use the present tense because we’ve broken up. I say was…” she folded her bottom lip under her teeth. Her eyes looked as if she was cornered but Xavier was still on the other side of the room. 

“Oh.” He breathed. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” 

Piper waved him off “I’d be more offended if you already knew. Jason saw Nico as a little brother. And I think, somehow in the absence, I’m treating Nico in the same way. Partially his fault I guess, he has that quality.” She gave a sad bitter laugh as she tended to look at anywhere but Xavier. The thumping bass of the party going on behind her.

“Nico?” He asked. Xavier thought back to his sketches. The fear and youth on Nico’s face when Xavier had imprisoned him. The Nico in the pictures on his desk, smiling at the photographer. Piper shrugs, she eyes the book Xavier’s still clutching like a lifeline, and before he knows it, she’s disappeared. 

Xavier looks down at the leather book. He had made a bee-line to it as soon as he joined the Nightshades. He had heard his mom talking about when he was little. How he would try to draw recreations of her descriptions in crayons and show them to her. He was so proud when he started to blend his colours with his finger just to get the machines to look right.

His drawing looked nothing like the ones here. They were a perfect balance of wild creativity and rigid precision. Perfectly measured lines were crammed next to spiders of scribbles. All of the ink came together to form deadly weapons and tools. He shut the book. And ran his hand down the simple inscription ‘The journal and notes of Magda Thorpe’. 

He slid the book back into the shelf. A kaleidoscopic eye watched him carefully from the ajar door, before swiftly disappearing before Xavier could see her.

—————

Wednesday found that moving in a vision was odd. She had tried to stay put, hoping that Ophelia and Arius would run past her. And that her presence outside of the bubble of their memory, would cause it to pop. This was not the case. The landscape didn’t move around her. Instead, she found her legs moving of their own accord, similar to a dream. She didn’t appreciate this. 

Arius wove the shadows, making them solid under his feet. They became obstacles for Ophelia as she stumbled through them. Sometimes the darkness stuck to her like muddy ooze. 

Ophelia fell to the ground. Her shoe caught on what looked like a dark rock. She took out a dagger and threw it at Arius causing him to fall. 

“Don’t make me do this.” She warned as she rose from the ground. 

“You don’t want to save her?” Arius asked, pushing himself up by the spear. 

“Magda told me she was going to do this. She asked me not to interfere. She knew she was sacrificing herself for us, for everyone. The last thing she wants is more deaths. I thought you’d be sick of that by now too.”

Arius flicked his wrist, causing the spear to spin in his hand and the tip to point at Ophelia. “I’m sick that we’re reduced to this. That we have to make these choices.”

Ophelia eyed his weapon, the spearhead glinting in the moonlight. Wednesday rolled her eyes at her fear. “You can’t use that here.” She warned. “They’ll find us.” 

Arius’s eyes grew to slits, but he conceded. 

Then he lashed out with the butt of his weapon, aiming it for Ophelia’s head. She ducked it. Quickly went for his legs, but he blocked that too. There were the muted sounds of a knife hitting wood as they made their parries. 

Then there was a scream. A curdling warping scream. It carried on the air like a stench. In fairytales, they often say that the wind or animals can sound like human cries. But nothing but a person could scream like that. 

Arius dropped onto his knees. The spear fell out of his hand. Ophelia stared into the light. 

“Arius, what is it?” 

“Magda.” 

Ophelia stared at the dancing flames radiating through the trees. Till her eyes slowly grew wider. “They…” 

Ophelia turned to him. All the emotion had drained from his face. Every muscle in his body was lax. His face was indifferent to the raging fire in front of him. But his spear was back in his hand, and he held it with a shaking iron grip “No more choices.”

Ophelia tried to say something to him, but Wednesday didn’t hear it. As they, like everything else, were being washed away like sand. All the details seeped into the dark until all Wednesday saw was blackness. 

Then she felt pain. A tightness in her muscles and something stinging in her hands. Usually, with visions, her eyes would fly open and her body bolts upright. No different to how she usually woke up. But now she felt her body fighting against her. She put all her strength into opening her eyes. And was greeted by the night sky. 

There was the sound of shuffling dirt somewhere behind her head. And the faint whiff of iron in the air. 

“You’re awake.” Eugene cried, as his face appeared above her. His glasses were cracked and some of his curly hair was plastered to his forehead. Wednesday cocked her head as she saw the fresh scars on his face. 

“What happened?” She ground out.

“Well, you passed out-“

“I am aware.” She pushed herself up.

“-Edith did her best to cover me but with your unconscious body and the small opening…” but his words quickly faded away from Wednesday as she narrowed in on the small pink body lying not too far from her. 

Wednesday pulled herself towards her friend, the bats had got her good as she could feel all their nicks and bites with every move, but she got there. Enid looked much worse. There was the small paper cut like wounds from the bats. But also a long dragging scar down her shoulder. 

“She’s still breathing.” Eugene went on. “But I didn’t know what to do.” 

“Did you call the nurse?” Wednesday asked as she used her tie as a tourniquet for one of Enid’s wounds. 

“She lives in Jericho. She would have left the school by now.” Eugene panicked. His feet shuffled around in the dirt. “She was so cool Wednesday, you should have seen her.” 

“She’s not dying, Eugene.” Wednesday spoke firmly. She heard Eugene mumble that to himself as a mantra. 

“Stay here.” She pulled her coat off and laid it over her roommate's body, but she still shivered. Eugene rushed to do the same. 

“Where are you going?” He perked up. 

“I need to make a call.” She spat the word. Desperate times. 

Wednesday got up and took her despised phone out. It had cracked during her fall, which made her like it a bit more. The screen reflected a better image of herself and the world now. She opened up her contacts to someone she never expected to call. 

———————

His mom’s alarm was Dolly Parton’s nine-to-five. So he knew that opening notes all too well. The novelty of hearing it every morning wore off pretty quickly as well. So when the acoustic guitar of Jolene started, Will sniffled away. However, it was just the change in tune that woke him up. Once his mind started to put the pieces together he rolled over and slammed his pillow over his head. Probably just another call from her agent. 

He heard the click as his mom unlocked her phone. “Hello, Naomi speaking.” With the phone and the pillow, Will couldn’t hear much of the other side of the conversation. “Wednesday Addams?” 

Will sat up. He could see his mother washed in the moonlight. The corner of her nose was illuminated by the phone light. Adding a small twinkle in her eyes as she shot Will a look of confusion. Naomi pulled the phone away so that the person on the other end couldn’t hear them

“Will, do you have a new sibling?” She whispered. 

“Ugh..no.” He clambered up onto the bed. Elegantly tripping over the floral duvet as he did. She put her ear back to the phone. 

“Will gave you this number?” She said in reaction to what Wednesday had stated. She turned to her floundering son in question, who was currently making grabby gestures with his hands. “One moment, I’ll pass you right over.” She put her hand over the microphone. “We need to talk about you handing out my number to random strangers.” 

“It’s only for emergencies.” Will hissed in a hurry as she finally handed over the phone. 

“Hello, Wednesday?” He said as he stepped closer to the window for some privacy. Though he could still feel his mom’s eyes watching him from her bed. 

“Will, I have a situation that would require your expertise.” She spoke in a clipped manner. Will watched his reflection in the window, he raised a brow.

“That’s an overly complicated way to ask for help.” He noted. 

“Fine.” She huffed. “I need help. My friends are hurt and we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere.” 

“Can you give me a rundown on how hurt your friends are?” Will tucked the phone between his chin and shoulder as he started to gather up his medical equipment. And Nico thought it was overkill for Will to bring his special single-use antiseptic needles. 

“None of them are in too much danger. One has an injury on her shoulder and a few bruises. She’s also unconscious.” Will bristled slightly. Being unconscious was never good. “The other patient is awake, and only seems to have a few cuts and bruises. We have also all sustained injuries from bats.”

“Bats.” He repeated. He could do bats. He should probably bring extra antiseptic. “What you have a baseball match with some vampires?” He joked, as also decided to stuff some extra cotton into his medical battle bag. 

“No.” She said. Will felt like that was a reference that was way over her head. “I’m trying to solve the prophecy.”

Will couldn’t remember if there were any mentions of bats in the prophecy. But hopefully, more would be revealed if he went to their destination. He had a niggling feeling that Wednesday wouldn't answer his questions if he asked them. 

“Alright, I’m on my way.” He opened up the window. Not wanting to alert Tyler to his nighttime absence. He shot his mom a look, who stared at him with silent judgment. He gave her a small sheepish shrug and she rolled her eyes. 

She threw off her duvet and made her way to the door. Unhooking the parka and beanie will had left hanging there. She handed him both before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. 

‘Be safe’ She mouthed to him. Will nodded and flashed his special celestial bronze scalpel, which she silently chuckled at. Will stepped out onto the roof and made his way to the edge, where he could climb down one of the pipes to his Mom’s pickup. He shot his mom a final look, as she pulled down the window and gave him a little wave. 

“Wednesday, you still there.” He asked as he shoulders his medical bag a little higher on his shoulders before sliding down the pipe and landing both feet in the dirt.

“Evidently.” 

“I want you to know, I’m not doing this for nothing. I want something in return.” Will would actually do this for nothing, but Wednesday didn’t know him and therefore wouldn’t call his bluff. 

“What?” She asked carefully. 

Will unlocked the car and threw the bag in. “I want you to help me infiltrate Nevermore Academy.”

Chapter Text

Xavier looked at the waste of last night's party. There were puddles of alcohol with floating cocktail umbrellas. The bookshelves were lined with numerous red cups and the occasional lost phone. The glitter mixed with cigarette ash on the floor. He eyed a sleeping initiate abandoned on an ottoman, his face decorated with crude drawings. 

He carefully stepped around all the party favours and made his way to Damocles's sword that hung amongst the trophies. He pulled it down, causing its string to stretch and something click behind the wall. A bookshelf swung open, shaking off the litter of last night's party. 

Xavier stepped inside, the door swinging closed behind him. He blinked in the darkness as his eyes adjusted. Some aspects seemed familiar, he remembered the altar digging into his back from his previous experience with Bianca. He took out his phone and killed the mystery as he used his phone light to search the place for what he was looking for. It didn’t take him long. 

The book rested on a special stand, titled only as  ‘Nightshades’.  It was next to the open box of the initiation dagger and a few candlesticks. He opened the book and held his phone aloft to read. He went past the dedication to Goodie Addams at the beginning. He stopped at the initiation rules. There were neat drawings depicting an initiation. Each member was shrouded in hoods, except the one at the centre. They held the knife’s blade aloft as small droplets of blood collected in a bowl beneath them. 

“ Only a true member will bleed under the blade, ” He read aloud. “ to prove their legacy.”  Xavier’s brow scrunched as he flicked to the following page that depicted the very first Nightshades. How could they be legacies if they were the first Nightshades? He saw his distant relative Madga Thorpe in one of the images. Standing next to her was a girl who looked eerily similar to Wednesday. If Wednesday had platinum blonde hair, a curly bob cut and a twinkle in her eye that made her look like happiness wasn’t a foreign disease. And at the centre, was Nico’s doppelgänger. His hair was neatly combed and his shoulders rolled back in a confident stature.

He flicked through to the following pages, which were simply catalogues of following years, but there was a large gap between the pages. After the first picture, the pages stayed blank for a while before going into the list of members. Just like the random blank pages in Magda’s book. 

His phone pinged as its light turned off, plunging him into darkness. Xavier cursed as he read the notification, his phone was on 5%. He dug into his hoodie for his lighter but paused as he realised that he could see still see his jumper. He could see the book as well, albeit dimly. He turned round in search of the source of the light. His eye’s finally landed on a faint glow coming from the dagger. 

He picked the dagger up carefully. Its light dusted the page and from the blank parchment, glowed a passage, but in Ancient Greek. He glanced to the following page finding that it was in Latin. He pulled the book closer. He was tutored in Latin since he could talk. He mouthed the conjugations slowly as he worked out what each line meant. But one part was written in English, a signature down at the very bottom:  Arius Mabuz, Son of Hades.

Xavier snapped the book shut and placed it back on its dias. He pulled the lever to escape into the main room. His feet kicked at the garbage, his mind too preoccupied to avoid it. He was also too preoccupied to notice that Magda Thorpe’s journal, was no longer on the shelf. 

——————-

“Are you sure about this?” Enid asked, still bandaged. She had been determined to accompany Wednesday as soon as she woke up. Her reasoning was annoyingly sound, Wednesday wasn’t a people person, and she was. So when it came to infiltration, Enid was begrudgingly the expert. “I mean, he’s the Hyde’s cousin.”

“He’s harmless,” Wednesday told her as she shouldered the sack containing Will’s Nevermore uniform. “He healed you.”

Enid eyed her bandages. Her lips grew tight. “Newsflash, remember Tyler being your personal Uber driver.”

Wednesday silenced. She had weighed it out. Will had come straight to their rescue when she called. He dropped all small talk and idle chatter to focus on her friend's wounds. He worked efficiently and with a bit too much comfort in his actions. His movements were almost thoughtless as if this were routine for him. The only deviation he made away from his patients was when he had asked Wednesday about the prophecy and when he reminded her of her end of the bargain as he dropped them off. 

Will seemed straightforward. Boring at an easy stretch. But she found that people were a lot more unpredictable than she anticipated and annoyingly confusing. But that was why she let Enid come along.

“Why does he want to go to Nevermore anyway?” She hobbled alongside Wednesday. 

“He needs a book.” 

“We could have just given it to him.” She grumbled as they stood by one of the side gates.

“He didn’t like the idea of stealing,” Wednesday answered. She had tried to convince him, but he was mulishly moral. 

“That’s so see-through.” Enid declared.

“He wants a book by Julius Mugwort. It’s got something about Hyde’s apparently.” Wednesday told her. “We’ll keep an eye on him. See what he’s reading up on. That way, we’ll also be keeping an eye on what Tyler knows.” She laid out for her. 

Enid stayed silent. Wednesday turned back to look at her. Her claws were out and she was digging into her thumb. 

“He is not a Hyde, Enid.” She informed her. “He is from Sherif Galpin’s side.” 

“I don’t care if he does turn out to be one.” She snaps. “ I  put Tyler away.” 

Wednesday crossed her arms. “Then what?” Ergo another example of arbitrary human complexities. 

“Mugwort.” She mumbled angrily. Wednesday blinked at her roommate. “He was a famous scientist, a horrible one.” 

“So?”

Enid glared at her friend's lack of care. Wednesday at least dropped her folded arms. “He’s the only other case of a lone wolf.” She mumbled. “And my family thinks I might be one.” 

“I think that sounds great.” Wednesday complimented her. “It only adds to your good qualities.” 

“You don’t understand, wolves without a pack are dangerous. Amoral, unconnected….alone,” she added listlessly. “I don’t want to-”

She cut herself off as a blue pickup truck rolled up the country road. Will’s sunny blonde hair was visible from the driver’s seat. 

“Morning.” He called out, “I brought coffee.” He jumped out of the driver’s seat and made an offering of a hot quad espresso “I asked the barista what your usual was. A thank you, for getting up so early.” 

Will finally realised that Enid was there. He blinked at her existence. “Why are you here?” 

Enid squared her shoulders as she stared up at a confused Will. “Why shouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you’re injured.” He stated. “You should be resting. Didn’t you tell her to do R.I.C.E?” He scolded Wednesday before turning back to Enid. “Rest, ice, compression, elevation. Very important if you want that to heal correctly. And you definitely shouldn’t be gallivanting around the place. Do you  want  me to redo those stitches?” He ranted, his hands resting firmly on his hips like an unimpressed kindergarten teacher. 

Enid blinked. “Sorry. And thanks.” She added on in afterthought. “Werewolves heal faster.” 

“I know that.” He waved off, “But it doesn’t make you immune to septicaemia.” 

“Do you have a problem with her being here?” Wednesday edged in as a threat. 

Will didn’t take it that way, “Not personally.” 

“Good.” Wednesday threw the sack at him “Change.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He lazily saluted as he ducked behind his truck. 

“I’m still not sure about him.” Enid hissed. 

————-

When Nico was little, Bianca had told him that she was psychic. When he pretended he liked coffee, she knew instantly that he was lying. When he hated the beach and didn’t want to say anything. Bianca would take him away. While later on, he stopped believing his sister was omnipotent in all his actions. A small part of him felt like she knew him better than anyone else. That they had a stronger link than any other sibling had. It was only years later, when he was watching Star Wars and being faced with Yoda for the first time, did Will tell him that his face was an open book. 

This open-book quality also allowed him to part crowds without a second thought. But that did little to put a smile on his face. He brooded through the corridors. He had too much on his mind. It felt cluttered with thoughts and choices. It was tiring. Not to mention he had classes on top of all that. 

He didn’t know what to do with Piper. His annoyance had solidified into guilt, which he refused to give recognition to. She was on his side. A side where he rarely found anyone. He had come to Nevermore with Piper because she knew he needed a break from camp. And things did feel easy with Piper. She had a relaxed air about her. He never felt like he was being judged as he did with many other demigods. But we're her actions just stemming from a need to baby him? Did she feel like he was her atonement for Jason? That he was just a cross for her to bare. 

It wasn’t like Nico was ignorant of the fact that people felt protective over him. He didn’t know why. But Jason had trusted him and he felt that he had genuinely respected Nico. He knew Reyna was always looking out for him, but she always let him push himself to his limit. His words to Piper were harsh but true. He wasn’t going to apologise. 

But why did that choice still make him feel guilty? 

Then there was Xavier. Nico had slept in the forest to avoid confrontation with him. Mr D had laughed his head off when he first mentioned it during one of his and Will’s spats. But he saw it as the most efficient method of avoiding a fight. The rest of the day was a breeze, as he didn’t have any classes with Xavier. Except the last one, which he had decided to skive. But he still would have to face him that night when he went back to the dorm. While Xavier might have come to the conclusion that Nico had come to bed after him and left before he woke. He’d probably take notice tonight and warn the housemaster. 

He wasn’t sure where he stood with Xavier. He couldn’t get a read on him. Though, Nico really couldn’t get a read on most people. He did like to think he had good judgement (possibly genetics from his father). Yet, with Xavier, it faltered. He obviously hadn’t told any of the Nightshades about his intrusion, as Nico wasn’t facing a shoddy kidnapping. He had caught Xavier’s eye earlier in the day, and Nico saw his own apprehensive confusion reflected back at him. And he didn’t know what to do about it. Besides get angry, which he was currently doing. 

Then there was Thing. Who was still following him. Except now with invigorated fervour due to Nico’s evasion of him last night. He had felt his constant tapping behind him like a bomb. Every one of his scuttles had soundtracked his worries. Even though Thing had no eyes, he had felt scrutinised every waking moment of the day. 

Nico tucked his hands into his blazer and sharply turned the corner. He slid into one of the alcoves and prayed to the fates that Thing had lost him. But when had the Fates ever been a fan of him? 

The tapping of Thing's fingertips followed. 

“Will you quit it?” Nico seethed. He could feel his deathly glare coming out. 

Thing froze. He could feel that tug he always felt when he controlled the dead. The tautness of the fate’s thread of life as he held them back. Nico quickly let it go. 

Thing unfroze. Before quickly tapping away on the floor in panic. Nico still had no clue what he could be saying. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he faltered on explaining it. At least now he knew that Thing was a part of his father’s domain. But he now also knew that Nico had a power that was rare even amongst the abnormals.

“I’m just really tired right now and I’ve got a lot on my mind.” He sighed as he massaged his temple. “Look, can we make a deal? You can follow me as much as you like, you can even stay at the entrance of this alcove but can you give me an hour. I need to be alone right now.” 

He stared down at the disembodied hand. Now that he knew it was dead, he could feel the faint aura of its emotions. It gave something Nico interpreted as a nod. 

“Thank you.” He breathed. “Also Thing, you can’t tell Wednesday.” He spoke with his father’s voice and swore he never would again. But this was important. If Wednesday found out he was a Necromancer, he felt like the girl would kill him. For a girl heralded from a protector of outcasts, she ironically saw herself as judge, jury and executioner. 

Thing gave another one of his weird nods and scuttled off. Leaving Nico alone in the dark depths of an abandoned alcove. It wasn’t the Poe one of the courtyard. It was much larger and had small alcoves on its sides. 

Nico stared at a small dapple of golden light that invaded the space. He couldn’t help but be reminded of Will. Will would know what to do with everyone. He had this way of laying out all of Nico’s thoughts so that the answer seemed obvious. Everything became easier with him.

Nico coiled himself deeper into one of the alcoves. While he finally felt like Camp was home (or at least on the list of what he considered home), the gothic aesthetics of Nevermore allowed Nico to melt away. Even at camp he still felt like he stuck out. In everyone's head, he was a kid of the big three and in everyone's eyes, he was wearing black when everyone else was wearing sunny orange. Here, no one batted him an eye. Well, no one judged his aesthetic at least. 

“Hey.” came a dreaded voice.

Nico stared at Piper. She had a large pair of sunglasses over her eyes. He decided to put her out of her misery “Hey.” 

Piper, for once, looked unsure whether she should say anything. Nico eyed her as she played with her bracelets. She pressed one of her charms into the pads of her finger before swerving her Jansport round to her front. She unzipped the bag to reveal the book Nico failed to steal. She offered it to him. 

Nico wrapped his hands around the worn tome. Sliding Magda Thorpe’s journal onto his knees as he carefully opened its contents. Nico stared hard into its pages. Telling himself that he was just hyper-focused on the quest and not that he was just trying to ignore Piper’s existence.

“I’m sorry.” She spoke up. “But I never meant to baby you.” 

“How we want to act and what we actually do are worlds apart.” He darkly muttered, before mentally kicking himself. “I mean, look at me, I don’t want to scare people.” Piper raised a tired brow. “90% of the time.” He quickly corrected. 

Piper took that as an invitation to sit down. Taking off her sunglasses as she did. Her eyes were shot red and her bags rivalled Nico. 

“Did you sleep?” He asked. 

“Oh gods,  you’re  asking me that.” She groaned. 

“Are you ill?” He pressed.

“Nico, I’m hungover.” She informed him. The bell trilled above them and she groaned even louder. Digging her head between her knees as it rattled her skull. “Even the sun hurts.” 

Nico felt the shadows writhing around him. He pulled them closer as if he were pulling on a coat. The shadows in the alcove grew longer. 

Piper finally lifted her head. Her bleary eyes looked at Nico. “Nico, I know you’ve saved the world and all but that is the best thing you’ve ever done.” 

Nico shrugged “It’s the least I could do.” 

“It is,” she gestured to her face, “This was a sacrifice for the quest.” 

Nico lifted a brow “Getting shit-faced?” He smirked. 

She gave him a light smack on the shoulder as she gestured for him to move over “I’m the people person department of this quest, remember.” Nico sobered at the mention of that conversation, unknowingly shuffling his body closer to himself. He locked his eyes onto the pages of the book beneath him, finding the pages oddly blank.  

—————-

Will stared at himself in the dark Nevermore uniform. He slicked back his hair with a bit of water. Not to slick it back entirely, but to kill his frizz and curls. Rich people didn’t have frizz. That’s the kind of thing money solved. He pulled at the sleeves of his jacket. It felt too short. Did it make him look ganglier? Will very rarely wore suits. He could count the times on one hand and none of them had been this rigid. They usually contained a fraying stetson on his head or his suit shirt being a cotton everyday flannel. Not a starch white collar accompanied with a silk striped tie. He didn’t hate the idea of a suit. Nico looked killer in one. It just wasn’t very him. While colour made Nico uncomfortable, formality made Will’s skin feel itchy. 

He played with his hair again. The last time Will had played at espionage, his boyfriend had pointed out his blonde mop of hair. Will threw over the hoodie that Wednesday had provided. A few curls of his hair still stuck out. Will harrumphed at the oddness of the outfit. His shoulders sagged as he stared at his look. 

Then he grinned. “Do any of you have any dark eye shadow?” Enid looked up from where she was whispering to Wednesday. She pulled out a silver compact with an accompanying rainbow brush. “Thanks.” 

“What do you need that for?” Wednesday eyed him as he applied a light brow under his eyes. 

“I’m finishing the look.” He thanked the gods he was friends with Lacy and Mitchell. Their make-up tutorials in the Apollo cabin really did save lives. 

Will adjusted the mirrors of his car and imagined it was Nico staring back at him. He had studied every inch of that boy. He loved all of his scathing looks and eye twitches. The way Nico’s eyes darkened on a bright summer day. Will looked back and saw himself constipated. 

While his father was the god of the arts, none of his siblings had ever really taken to acting. Though some could say (Mr D) that Dad never really took to it either. 

“Ok, method acting.” He mumbled to himself. What makes Nico look dead all the time?  ‘Life, probably.’  That’s what Nico would say. ‘ Generally being, I guess .’ Would be a close second. Will went back to his endless days in the infirmary. The rush and panic after battles and war. The constant aftermath of capture the flag. Those patients who never learned from the first time, and came in with another severed limb. 

Will directed a glare towards Wednesday and Enid. The dark-haired girl raised a single brow, not entirely sure what she was seeing.

“Chills.” Enid voiced her thought. “You’ll fit in fine.” 

“Library?” His voice had zero of his usual inflections and he nearly startled himself. Sign him up for Mi6 or whatever spy agency James Bond was a part of. He was acing this. Though he couldn’t exactly do a happy little dance in his current persona. 

“Not exactly.” Wednesday turned towards the school.

They entered through a side field, where an archery range had been set up. A few students chatted on one of the benches nearby, but they didn’t bat an eye at their little group. Will’s acting abilities were truly tested when he entered the main building. He wanted to take Nico here. Maybe give him a few ideas on refurbishing his cabin. It was a great study in functional gothic, and where sunlight didn’t  “kill the aesthetic”  (A line Nico would say every time he shut the curtains) .  The Nevermore students rushed around the winding corridors. Their leather shoes clacked against the cobbles. A big part of Will was thankful, but a small part was sad that he wouldn’t get time to flex his acting abilities. Sadly, that quickly broke with a snap of Wednesday’s fingers. 

Sure, he came from a school with Harpies, lava climbing walls and Pegasi. But usually, he expected the weirdness to be contained there, or at least within the Graeco-Latin realm. 

“ Wednesday. ” Enid hissed as she stop herself from clutching the Latina, “Are you crazy?”. 

“I have ways of keeping him quiet.” Wednesday placated Enid. But she still kept her lips pursed as Will kept silent. His eyes widened around the whole alcove as he processed the information.

“Still.” Enid insisted. 

Will seemed to finally rejoin the reality the three were sharing. “How old is this school?” 

“Old,” Wednesday informed him. 

“Right…” he nodded. He arranged his thoughts like cue cards, lining one behind the others as conclusions were drawn and redrawn. “Is this Hogwarts?” 

“Is it what?” Wednesday asked. 

“No.” Enid informed him, before turning to Wednesday “And we need a talk.” 

“I told you, I can keep him quiet-“

“Not about that, about Harry Potter.” Enid insisted as she nudged the other girl towards the entrance. Will took that as his cue to follow. The secret door swinging resounded behind them. 

“Does he go here?” Wednesday asked in the darkness. 

Lights sputtered to life, giving life to a marble room. Will stared at it all open-mouthed. “What is this place?” 

“It’s the club room for the Deadly Nightshades, Nevermore’s elite secret society.” Enid explained as she spun around the room. 

“So some people,” Will pointed upwards. “don’t know this place exists?” 

“Wouldn’t be secret otherwise.” Wednesday stated as she scanned the library walls for the particular book.

That sent Will down a spiral. Did Camp Half-Blood have a secret society? Surely he’d be a part of it. Head of the Apollo cabin, and head of the infirmary and he’s a hoot at parties, he would be a member of a secret society. He would know and therefore one didn’t exist. New Rome was a different story. He would have to ask Nico about that because he would not only know about it but was possibly pulling the strings behind it. 

“Here’s your book.” Wednesday slammed the tome into Will’s arm, waking him quickly from his thoughts. He glanced down at it, it was deep green leather. It wasn’t like the usual bound book. Instead, it was made out of flimsier leather and was more worn at the edges. 

————

Wednesday watched Will as he sank to the floor and took out a notebook. He scribbled down some illegible notes as he went through page by page. Enid kept a wary eye above him. She wouldn’t say it, but she did feel better with Enid around. She had gained a sharper edge since the Rave’n. The young werewolf had gained a more distrusting attitude toward strangers and Wednesday couldn’t help but think it was an improvement. 

Wednesday sent a cursory glance to the Nightshades central room. She had heard they had a party recently. Enid was a member, but she had declined the last initiation ceremony to study for an upcoming test. Wednesday would rather join the social book club than this elitist society, but knowing their password did let her get all the pros without any of the cons. The cons were the people who usually filled the rooms. 

Wednesday went to look at some of the newer books the society had added to their collection. Her foot kicked a stray red cup from last night. She glanced down to check that no alcohol had touched her Italian leather hand-crafted boots. She didn’t even check if they were safe before her eyes caught on a red cup that was wedged between the shelves. There was a hidden room. 

She scanned the place for some kind of lever and found a blunt sword hanging beside the shelf. She gave it a tug, causing the whole shelf to swing open. 

“Woah.” Enid breathed. 

Will gave it a cursory glance. “How many secret doors do you guys have?” 

It was smaller and it looked like someone had already rifled around. Wednesday picked at the small altar where a thick tome laid askew. Enid stepped down into the small room. Staring up at the paintings hung above her. Wednesday's hand moved towards the golden dagger -

The wind rushed past her ears - 

Wednesday turned to find herself back in the main room but found it bare. There were no bookshelves or faded photographs. Instead, it was nothing but black marble. There were a few pieces of gold and bronze weaponry stacked on the wall, but it seemed bare in comparison to the Nightshade’s club room she knew. 

Wednesday stepped up to one of the swords, her ashen face perfectly reflected. Her hand flexed at the memory. She had been reaching out for that golden dagger, and instead of metal, felt the usual volt of a vision. 

She had been wrong, the room wasn’t entirely bare. There was a roaring fire pit at its centre. A ring of golden mosaics rippled in the firelight. Wednesday couldn’t read the Greek at its centre, but she recognised the names of the Gods of the Roman Pantheon. 

Then, behind where she had appeared, Wednesday saw herself. Frozen in marble was her own face, commemorated in a fresco. However, she was dressed as a pilgrim. The Latin underneath only confirmed her suspicions, they had a marble carving of Goodie Addams. But why had they commemorated her like this? 

Steps interrupted her thoughts. Arius easily walked down the stairs. His hair was mussed again, and his eyes sallow but he had more colour in his face than she had ever seen in Nico. He carried a large leather satchel with him. As soon as the stone slid shut, he rushed to take something out of it.

It was a thick black tome. The pages barely came apart as he opened it. Wednesday tried to read over his shoulder, but it was all literal Greek to her. She tried to make sense of the image accompanying the writing. It was of a half-man, half-skeleton.

“Oh, don’t give me that look?” Arius spoke. Wednesday's head shot up, she thought he was alone. But there, manifesting in a ghostly form, was Goodie Addams. 

“What is that?” She asked as she stared at the book in his hands. She seemed almost afraid of it.

“A book,” Arius commented, ignoring her fear. “From my father’s collection. Took all my Drachmae to get it smuggled here. Of course, he’ll play no part in  this  either.” He scowled. 

“Outcasts are just protecting themselves.” Goodie reasoned with him. 

“And how many of my kind will have to die before they feel  protected.”  He hissed back at her. He let out a chuckle. “Do you know what this book contains?” He hefted it up. 

Goodie stayed silent. 

“The key to immortality, in a sense.”

“You want to be immortal?” Goodie asked in confusion. 

“Gods no, it’s only a small part of the plan.” He smiled as he snapped the book shut and made his way to the other side of the room. 

“Why do you need a plan?” Goodie was asking some very obvious questions. It seems that Wednesday's sharp deductive instincts came more from her mother’s side.

“I was never as gifted as my siblings.” He said the words with no malice. It was more observational and light. His eyes glazed over in a reverie. “I had a brother, Elias. He could convince people to kill each other just with a slight change in his tone. He could sometimes do it so well, that he could convince a heart to stop entirely.” His eyes snapped to Goodie “Oh, if I were him.” 

“He sounds terrifying,” Goodie stated. 

He sat down by the fire pit and flicked out a cigarette. He placed it in between his lips and set it alight. “He was nine when they killed him.” He mumbled around the tobacco. He turned his head up to look at Goodie “How much of a person do you think one can be at nine?”

Goodie stayed quiet. It didn’t seem like a question he wanted answering anyway.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? He had the blood of Gods in him. The blood of Hades.” He told Goodie. He stared at the ember at the end of his cigarette. “A demigod has been at every turn of the century, every major event, every new civilisation, every new thought. We didn’t guide mortals to America, but we made it into a country.” He sucked at the nicotine and watch the smoke curl into the air. “And look at us now. Bastards to Gods, Vermin to mortals.” 

Goodie stared at him like she could turn him into salt if she tried hard enough. “You can’t change people.” 

“Oh, Goodie.” He purred. He gave a tap to the book. “Like I said, Blood of Gods.”

“What are you planning?” She asked again, stepping closer. The items in the room started to rattle as if a poltergeist had gotten hold. Arius smiled at her. His eyes twinkled with knowingness, which only seemed to anger Goodie more. 

“I’m simply going to set things right.” Their eyes locked as the room grew in violent shakes. It was as if an earthquake had taken hold over the club, but Wednesday felt her feet planted firmly on the ground. The fire blew out, along with the gas lamps decorating the halls. Arius tossed the cigarette to the side.

The only thing keeping them lit was the faint glow of Goodie’s ghostly figure. Arius stood up, his height towering over her. 

“We are demigods. Mortals might have forgotten us, but there’s one thing they always remember.” He crooned. “How good we were at killing the Monsters.” Goodie’s eyes flared, but a dark hand landed on the ghost's throat. Wednesday could see Goodie’s flesh indenting under the pressure. The pain swelling in her eyes. “But you won’t breath a word of this, will you Goodie?” 

His eyes turned into nothing but pitch black. He let go of Goodie. But all the shakes and darkness she had created, seemed to sap away. She tried to say something, but the words lodged in her throat. 

“So long Goodie,” he waved, as against her will she disappeared into nothing. Arius sauntered to the fresco of Goodie hung on the wall. He dipped his hands into a pot of sacred oil and flicked it onto the marble, “An offering to our Lares. It’s alright, soon everyone will feel as you do.” 

The dreams quickly started to shift around Wednesday. The darkness melted into more of that open darkness that a night sky had. The cold dankness disappeared as she was met with burning heat on her back. She shuffled her foot, seeing deep scorched cracks in the earth as if Hell was trying to break through. She followed it behind her, turning around to see an engulfing fire of green flames. 

———

Nico slipped through the corridors. His steps light from years of caution. It was one of the first times since he arrived in Nevermore that he didn’t feel the scuttling of Thing behind him. They had called a bit of a truce. It seemed that Thing was not as loyal to Wednesday as he thought. He thought Thing was like his Jules Albert, Nico’s personal zombie chauffeur, but it seemed that Thing was more like an uncle looking out for her. He was currently waiting for him outside his dorm door. 

He heard Thing’s taps of communication. His meaning is,  “You’re late”.  Nico glared at him. 

“I had things to do.” He whispered, as to not rouse his dreaded roommate. 

Thing lifted his equivalent of a brow. 

“Not like that,” Nico grumbled down. “Just some light procrastination.” 

Thing made a tapping rant of  ‘kids these days’.  He wasn’t well versed in Thing’s finger lingo yet, but he swore he saw him say something about  ‘blood sacrifices’  and  ‘Instagram’.  He then proceeded to scuttle off into the dark. Nico could feel him not going too far, probably just finding a more comfortable place for a nighttime stakeout than the floor of the boy’s dormitory. 

The flood of dread came back. Nico leant his forehead against the cold wood of the door. He didn’t know what to do with Xavier. He had let him go, but was that just to make Nico a pawn in Xavier’s much larger game? Are there more chains waiting for him on the other side of the door? Did he know that Nico had the journal? Could he use it against him? Gods, Nico wasn’t used to sharing a room with someone he wasn’t related to. Was it always this complicated?

They had been analysing an Edgar Allan Poe story in class today. It told the story of a murderer trying to kill a relative of his. Nico felt like that main character, as he oh so carefully opened the door. Moving it only a hair width at a time so that not a peep would creak. And he slipped through the door. 

“Nico.” A light flicked on. Nico cursed the river Styx.

He slowly turned to see Xavier, lying in his bed but uncovered by his sheets, as he patiently waited for him. 

“Were you sitting here in the dark, just so you could make this dramatic reveal?” Nico wished he could clobber himself. A lot of Camp didn’t understand how Nico, Percy and Thalia were all related. Except for their dark hair, love of rock music and great power, there wasn’t much that connected them as cousins. But Annabeth, in all her wisdom, noted their  ‘putting their foot in mouth’  genetics. Percy’s was obvious. Thalia’s was normally a lack of social awareness and Nico’s reared its ugly head in moments like this. 

“I had the lights on yesterday, but you wouldn’t know that.” Xavier cut back at him. 

Nico shrugged off his blazer and tossed it onto his chair. Maybe if he got ready for bed and went to sleep, Xavier wouldn’t be able to question him. It was really the only plan he could come up with at the moment. 

He heard a creak of a bed as Xavier’s presence grew closer. “I know about Arius.” 

Nico looked up at him “I  don’t . Who’s that?”

Xavier’s eyes darkened. His bare foot standing an inch away from Nico’s. His body caged him in. Nico couldn’t help but feel the chill of deja-vu. He remembers the cold marble biting into his knees. The warm chains on his wrists. And Xavier’s shadowed face as he stared down at Nico. “I know you’re a demigod.” 

Nico’s face fell. He could feel his shoulders tightening. His hands itching for his blade, for the shadows. There was no glimmer of doubt in Xavier’s eyes. 

Nico leaned back “Ok.” Xavier blinked as Nico had just calmly taken his head off. It seemed like his plan had been derailed entirely. “What are you planning to do with that information?” 

Xavier's eyes were properly locked with Nico's, with no burning emotions or accusations. The two looked at each, for the first time, simply as confused peers. Xavier slumped down on the bed next to Nico, causing the demigod to recoil in surprise. 

“Nothing really.” He confessed. Nico blinked. “Well, I was going to tell Wednesday.”

“I think she’s kind of got it out for me.” Nico noted. He has no clue what he did to her. 

“Yeah, I know what that’s like.” Xavier sighed as he rubbed at his eyes. Nico felt like the dramatics of staying up were finally catching up on Xavier. “She planted evidence on me, framed me for murder and got me arrested,  while  I was trying to help her.”

“Why were you helping her?” Nico asked.

Xavier let his face fall into his hands. Nico could see the skin around his eyes crinkle as he tightly shut them. An annoyed groan slipped out of his fingers. Nico knew that tone, he had made that same noise when he thought of his own dumb mistakes. 

“I had a crush.” Xavier finally said. He released his face from the depths of his palms. Nico was faced with tired green eyes. “I don’t know. Did you ever, like, meet someone as a kid, and they were just miles above you? Like you were the same age, but she was so cool. And as you grew, you’d have fantasies of meeting again. And then they’d be impressed by  you  this time. Or you’ve finally caught up with them.” 

Nico knew exactly that feeling. He horribly knew that feeling. 

Xavier clasped his own knee, as it began to jitter. He held it tighter. “I’m over that though.” Xavier clarified, but he didn’t seem so sure of that. 

Nico could feel something inside him egging him on. But it felt like it was egging him to jump off a cliff. “I had a crush on my cousin.” He could almost hear the tearing sound as he ripped off this proverbial bandaid. “I didn’t know he was my cousin then, but he saved me from..” Nico never had many interactions with mortals anymore, at least not living ones. “He saved me from a manticore. I was ten at the time .  And I was obsessed with Greek myths and legends. And there he was, a Greek hero, like straight out of the myths.”

“Did you get over him?” It was only when he heard it out of Xavier’s mouth, did he realise he had just ousted himself. And Xavier had taken it in an easy stride. Nico lets his eyes easily lock with his roommates.

“Yeah. I think I have.” He smiled. “Though, that was after years of pining and bad choices and lots of self-hatred. But, I would have done the same things as you. I helped him time again, even when he hated me. Even if he left me for dead, I would wait till he needed me again.” Nico finished off, and he was surprised at how small his voice had gotten. 

Xavier’s hand wafted in the air, ready to touch him in some comforting way, but he paused and brought it back. “Love is shit, isn’t it?”

Nico let out a laugh and collapsed back on the bed. “Cupid is an ass.” 

“You’ve met Cupid?” Xavier turned. 

Nico looked at Xavier, properly this time. In his ill-fitting but expensive pyjamas and long hair. His shoulders curled in to compensate for his lanky height. Nico smiled “20 questions?” 

Xavier shuffled to properly seat himself on his roommate's bed “Alright, who’s your godly parent?” 

———————-

Wednesday sat up, like a vampire rising out of its coffin. Enid lurched in surprise. Will didn’t bat an eye from where he sat on the floor. He just deftly raised up his hand to point at something near Wednesday's bed.

“Drink some water.” He told her. 

“I didn’t faint. It was a vision.” She snapped.

“I know.” He answered lightly. “But the symptoms of a vision are similar to symptoms of fainting. So you need to rehydrate.”

She didn’t make a move for the water. Instead, she inspected the blade still in her hand. Her reflection was so clear in its gold reflection.

“What was it?” Enid asked, taking off her headphones. Her loud bobbing music still beating along. 

Wednesday put the knife down and made a beeline for the window. She needed to feel some cold air on her face. Even though it was just a vision. She could still feel the heat under her clothes. The thick stench of smoke still coursing under her nose and sticking to her skin. The screams filled her ears, only masked by the snapping wood of the burning building. Her first vision had been fine, but the second, was something still reverberating in her ears.

“I saw Arius again.” She put it simply. 

“The guy that looks like the new transfer student?” Enid ploughed on. Will only raised his head in slight interest. 

“He was talking to Goodie, told her how he was going to kill the  monsters. ” She voiced, her anger words dripping with thinly veiled anger. She needed to do something. She didn’t like the idea of sitting here and doing nothing. She needed to get down to the bottom of this, to keep investigating. But her visions left her with little clues, just rage. 

“Us?” Enid cried. Wednesday only gave a small curt nod. 

“Then I saw him do it.” She muttered. “He burned down a  whole  dorm.” 

“Wait, the great fire? That was him?” Enid asked as she moved closer to Wednesday. “It’s like one of  the  ghost stories of Nevermore. That’s why everyone thinks the dining hall is haunted, it was built in that spot.” Enid explained. “Those graves in the crypts commemorate them. At least, that’s what everyone says. It adds to the creepiness factor.”

“You guys have crypts too?” Will voiced, his pencil pausing on the page. 

Wednesday was already making a grab for her stake-out kit “Then that’s where I’ll start.”

“Wednesday, it’s dark.” Enid whined. “And I need to get up early tomorrow. And what are we gonna do with him?” Enid gestured to Will as if he was a dog who had just pissed himself on their lovely carpet.

“You’re taking him home. I’m going alone.” She told her.

“You’re dumping me with babysitting?” Enid shoved her hands on her hips, expecting for Wednesday to reply but she went into her wardrobe instead.

“Gee thanks, Enid.” Will commented into the silence. 

Enid glared at him “Just keep making notes about your stupid Julius Mugwort.”

Will did the exact opposite of that, instead, he pushed the book off his lap. He stood up and started to wander around the room. Enid kept her eyes locked on the sun-kissed teen as he went over Wednesday’s desk. 

“Are you spying for your cousin?” She asked, folding her arms. 

Will turned to her in surprise. “He doesn’t even know I’m here.” Enid scoffed at the answer. “It’s  true . I just want to help him.” 

“ Sure .” She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you have family?” He snapped at her. Enid softened slightly. Though she didn’t exactly click with her family, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for them. “Don’t wolves have a pack?” 

Enid glared at him. “Why would you care so much? Mugwort didn’t have a pack.” 

“What’s with your animosity towards him? Are you related or is he  Hitler-y ?” He whispered the last bit to her in concern. 

“He was a lone wolf. They're a law onto themselves.” She told him. 

Will’s face was sapped of a friendly demeanour as he became serious. His freckles crinkled between his brow. “Huh."

Will didn’t say anything else and it wasn’t a conversation that Enid wanted continued. She put her headphones back on and leaned back on her bed. Leaving Will unsupervised in the room. 

He picked up the golden dagger. It looked Roman in the make. Greek weaponry was usually handed down or made specifically for a demigod. So the hilts tended to be made of a specific length or have special dents to accommodate the user’s hold. There were sometimes decorations of godly symbols or protective runes. And obviously, the wear and tear, a chip or a mark from some great battle it had already been through. But Roman daggers were pristine. Regimental like their legions. The handles were made for everyone. There were no markings or signifiers of any kind. Just a simple gold dagger. 

“Ahem.” Wednesday waited, her hand outstretched. Will didn’t jump. He deftly twisted the dagger so that he offered the handle to her. She snatched it quickly and oddly already had a holster for it. 

“I don’t see how it can be of much help. It’s blunt.” Will informed her. 

“Why do you say that?” She asked. Will found it hard to judge her emotionless tone, but the tightness in her lips made Will think she was intrigued.

He shrugged “It looks blunt.”. All demigods were good liars. 

“And I tried taking it out of your hand.” Enid raised her unscarred palms. “Like properly gripped the sharp bit and  nothing .”

Wednesday looked down at the dagger and pierced her thumb. 

“What are you-“ Will voiced. 

“Sees sharp to me.” She noted and then silenced in thought. Will moved back to his stuff and pulled out a miniature first aid kit. 

“It’s fine.” She snapped.

“You say that now but wait till it gets infected. Do you like having a thumb?” But there was something off about him. Something Wednesday couldn’t quite place. He wiped the antiseptic on it before placing a bandaid. “It’s black too.” He added as he showed off the little pirate-themed bandaid. 

Wednesday only humphed in reply. Ripping her hand away from him as soon as it covered the cut. With that, she turned and made a beeline for the crypts. 

————

Nico found himself sleeping in an awkward position. That was nothing new to him. He could probably play Twister and fall asleep in one of those positions. After so many years and quests on the run, he had learned to pretzel himself into safe sleeping places. He was at the end of his bed, leaning against the bottom board and his knees curled up to his chest. By his pillow, where Nico should be sleeping, was Xavier. His mouth was wide open as if he fell asleep mid-word. They must have fallen asleep whilst they chatted. That had never happened to Nico before, and he found himself smiling. 

But he knew that wasn’t the reason he had woken up. He could feel a tug. His eyes blinked in the dark as he noticed that the moonlight was coming from the wrong direction. 

He turned his head to find Ophelia’s ghostly figure. 

Nico didn’t jump. He was the ghost king, he couldn’t jump at the sight of his own subjects. 

“Can’t you come in the middle of my math class?” Nico croaked, his voice still thick with sleep. “I actually like sleeping.” 

She didn’t say anything as she simply evaporated through the door and expected him to follow. Nico sighed. He shoved his leather jacket onto one of his arms and grabbed his boots with the other. 

He easily followed her down the corridor. Tripping into his boots and swinging on his jacket as he did. He could feel the thrum of Thing nearby, but he could tell he was asleep. It felt like a low hum, like a cat purring but in an aura sense. It seemed even disembodied hands needed sleep. 

Nico was greeted by the cold grounds. The snow was mostly gone. 

Ophelia didn’t even stop by the tree, she just twisted and turned deeper into the school. Nico ran after her. Constantly following her glow as she leads him downstairs and into a crypt-looking tunnel. She turned again, and Nico halted. 

Her glow lit up images of Camp Jupiter. He could see the cracked remains of an insignia for Camp Half-Blood. He moved further and saw his own father’s face. The throne room was off, with more skulls than his father ever had, but that was Hades on the throne, sitting by an accurate carving of Persephone. Whoever did this knew his Papa’s and step Mother’s faces. 

Nico’s feet stumbled to catch up after Ophelia and he stopped. She quickly dissipated in the dark room. He felt a thrumming beside him and reached his hand out. Something in him clicked with whatever he had touched, and suddenly the place was lit in green flame. 

It was Greek in design. He could tell from the architecture and details, even if the whole place was cracked into a million pieces. But the gold and dirt-covered jewels pointed towards the Roman heritage of his father. There was even Pluto’s symbol above the door. In all of Nico’s travels, he had never seen a temple dedicated to both godly counterparts, least of all his father. 

Nico eyed a metal door at the back. It reminded him of a piece Will had dragged them to see whilst they visited Paris. It was by the artist who had done the Thinker statue. It was a tall door with twisted figures in black metal. But instead of figures, Nico found it depicted five streams, each labelled with their proper names. Nico recognised them all. He tries giving the door a push but to no avail. He kicked it slightly, more out of frustration than anything else.  

Nico turned to look at the statues. He got an odd niggling feeling about them. He guessed that they were the goddess of the rivers of the Underworld, but he counted six. He read the golden writing below,  “Cecelia Dotterweich, Daughter of Pluto”.  Nico moved to another, a young man with an axe and an hourglass. His plaque had  “Peter Halphen, Son of Hades”.  Nico stumbled back, this was no temple. This was a tomb. A tomb to his siblings. 

Nico felt his body growing light. He could see a faded date of their deaths. He could have known them. If he had lived back when he was meant to and they had lived a bit longer. He could have known them. He wouldn’t know these faces of stone and cracks. He would know them in flesh and blood. 

He and Bianca wouldn’t have been alone. 

Nico had always been told that his other siblings had been evil. That some of them had started great wars and had been fuelled with nothing but revenge. But as he looked at these faces of stone, he yearned to disprove those statements. 

Then he heard a scuffle of steps behind him. H

————

She didn’t think of the steps. She didn’t hear the sounds of the floorboards. She couldn’t think. All she felt was anger and rage. It filled every crevice of her being. She felt her breath hitch as if she was preparing herself for something. Her hand stayed clasped on the golden dagger at her side. It felt so right in her hand. So perfect. It was the only thing anchoring her to the here and now. 

She barely noticed her feet had reached the crypts. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dark (all Addams were nocturnal and if they weren’t there was a ritual to make them so). Her mind faintly recognised the faint glow of the blade at her side. But she didn’t care. 

The cold stone and mouldy smell were far from where her mind was. The smell of smoke cloying in her throat. The ash floated in the air like snow, before falling and burning her skin in pinpricks. The screams warped. The lucky few, stumbling out like citizens of Pompeii. 

Wednesday gripped the dagger harder.

She imagined driving the dagger into Arius's heart and watching the smugness drain out of his face. How could her ancestor fall for a boy like that? She wanted to drive this dagger into his ribcage, till his blood overflowed onto her hand. She wanted to stab him like Caesar, but she would be the one-woman mob to bring his demise. 

Wednesday’s feet stuttered to a halt as she saw twisted locks of dark hair. Her mind cried Arius, but she knew better. She knew that leather jacket. 

The face turned, and there she saw Nico di Angelo. 

The skull ring firmly on his finger. His pale complexion glowed in the dark. But his eyes, glimmered just like Arius' did. The same black eyes that watched the flames danced. 

Wednesday did what she wanted. 

She surged at him. Heard the sweet tune of the dagger scraping its scabbard. And plunged the blade between his ribs. 

Nico lurched. Wednesday felt his hot breath against her face as all the air escaped from his lungs. 

Then she felt a cold hand cling to her neck. It didn’t tighten. It wasn't choking her. His fingers were digging up into her chin. And she bared her teeth at him in an ugly smile. She angled the dagger. 

He grimaced in pain. Then something like joy flickered in his eyes like he knew something she didn’t. Slowly his lips curved into a smirk, not unlike his heinous ancestor. And before Wednesday could spit in his face. She felt the warmth starting to drain from her. She felt the beating of her heart get slower. The world was growing so much darker. 

She fought to keep her eyes open. And found Nico's pupils missing. His eyes were nothing but black. Veins of black traced over his eyelids and curved along his cheeks like poison. 

Wednesday found a little curl of strength and twisted the dagger. She wouldn’t go down without fighting. 

Chapter Text

Will dusted the TV, back at Camp he could restock the infirmary, catalogue stocks, update files, sanitise bedsheets, and cut bandages, but here, he couldn't do that. Will was prone to “overthinking”, his older brothers used to describe him as equal parts ball of sunshine to ball of stress. Will just like things to run smoothly.

Will didn’t like what he had learned in Mugwort’s journal. He expected things more in line with Laurel Gates's experiments (i.e. torture). Instead, he felt a mounting dread as he turned each page, watching it change from English to Old Norse to Latin to Ancient Greek. Most of the ingredients Mugwort had experimented with (Will’s sure guess as the ingredients for the potion) all held importance in the Graeco-Roman Pantheon. Will had used them himself in the infirmary for a specific illness. He saw Lou-Ellen stocking up on them in the Hecate’s cabin. The Demeter campers would grow the very same plants outside their cabin. 

Which was why he was currently dusting Aunty Francoise's knickknacks, for the fourth time. 

He wished Nico was here. His boyfriend was such a good listener, he just seemed to soak in everything Will said. Then he would answer with his lilted accent, waving hand and a snarky smirk. Nico’s voice was always steady. Will knew that people always saw him as having a calming presence, the easygoing son of Apollo, but Nico was Will’s rock. The one who stopped him from caving in on himself in the infirmary. The one who always noticed his silent panic. The one who would squeeze his hand when Will remembered what a sorry of an excuse for a son of Apollo he was. Where was Nico now? 

Will could see it, feel it, the calamity that was about to happen. He wasn’t gifted with prophecy like some of his siblings were. But sometimes, his dad would through him a bone. He’d just get a feeling, like in the way Han Solo would get a bad feeling about things. Usually, it was just a feeling he should stock up extra on bandages or ambrosia or that he should really go canoeing tomorrow (and be in the right spot to give someone CPR). He felt it now, that uneasy feeling in his gut.

He would have to tell Tyler. Will could feel his two worlds colliding. He couldn’t talk to his mother, while she would probably be fine with him infiltrating a prep school (cause honestly that’s quite normal for a demigod). He knew exactly how she felt about Tyler. 

He couldn’t talk to Tyler because he was the problem. 

He remembered where he had packed his drachmas. He could lock the bathroom door and quickly call Nico. He could explain the whole thing, and maybe just seeing that pale sleep sleep-deprived face would do enough to quell his worries. His back was against the wall. There was nothing else-

“You alright there?” 

Will sharply turned to find Uncle Donovan standing entering the house, cleaning his boots on the rug. His sheriff's uniform looked a little sharper than before, but his eyes were just as wary. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Will smiled. 

“Because you’re a teenager,” he nodded to Will. “Cleaning,” Will’s smile irked a little. “Voluntarily.” He did have to give props to his uncle, he was a detective.

“I’m a tidy one.” He smiled harder, till his cheeks felt like they were pinching. 

“Sure.” He didn’t sound convinced, but he started taking off his hat and hanging it up at the door, ready to settle into the sofa and watch Jeopardy. 

Will turned back to dusting, coming face to face with a picture of him and Tyler when they were kids. Tyler’s long face and knowing eyes, with himself smiling like the idiot he was. Will hadn’t known he was a demigod then. There were no secrets between those two cousins. Tyler was the closest thing he had to a brother back then. He was the reason Will looked forward to summers before he even knew Camp was a thing. He hadn’t noticed that he had left Tyler behind.

Is this how Nico felt? Is this how he felt about Haezel? About New Rome? About all those other secrets he held behind his knowing smile? Constantly letting the acidic guilt eat away at him, where all you can do is keep holding it, cupping your hands tighter, lest you let anything slip and burn anything but you. 

His Uncle opened the fridge and took out a can of beer. “Where’s your mom?” 

“Her agent called. She had to drive into the town over to collect some stuff.” Will answered. 

“We got some leftovers. That alright for you?” His uncle asked. Will simply nodded. “Or we could have some pizza. Let you and Tyler have a movie night.”

Will’s carelessly dusted a bit harder on one edge of the frame, causing it to tilt. 

“Or you can tell me what’s eating at you?” His uncle ventured. Will need to be better at hiding things. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I know I’m not as approachable as your mom, but I’m here.” Will let the duster fall and turned to look at his Uncle. “It’s about Tyler?” 

Will looked up, “How-” 

“I’ve got a kid who can turn into a literal beast at the drop of a hat.” He explained. “And you have him for a cousin. I already assumed your mom told you. She’s not one for keeping secrets.” 

Will faltered, he hadn’t even realised the secrets his existence forced his mom to keep. To his uncle, Will’s dad was just some deadbeat country singer who skipped town. 

“Yeah, she’s not.” Ding, ding, ding - another lie, Will thought.

“See it this way, he hates my guts but he hasn’t killed me yet.” He shrugged. 

“Thanks,” Will grumbled. Uncle Don played with the tab on his can of beer and set it down. “I’m gonna head to my room, leftovers are fine, Uncle Don.” 

“Will,” he called. “He’s also your cousin and you’re just a kid. It’s not your job to watch him or guide him. It's his fault if he falls off the wagon, and he’s the only one who can pick himself back up.” Uncle Don sighed, scratching at his head. “I’m not too trusting, it comes with the job. But it's never a bad thing to trust someone. I know you know there’s something wrong, you’re not blind. But you're not in the wrong for trusting someone, they're in the wrong for breaking it." He patted Will on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Will.” 

“Thanks, Uncle Don.” Will smiled, it was genuine this time. 

“So pizza?” He asked, fishing out his phone. 

“I’ll go tell Tyler.” His guilt quickly subsided to giddiness. “Oh, and can we order a Hawaiian?” Will called back to his uncle, as he climbed up the stairs. 

“Oh god!” Was all he heard as went to tell Tyler about more than just pizza. All he had to do was tell him and he would get his cousin back. 

—-

Pain. Nico felt pain. 

He had been stabbed many times, over many occasions, none of which had been an enjoyable experience. Usually, when someone stabbed him, there was a reason. Even Octavian he had understood, with his warped ideals and narcissism. But when Nico turned to find the moon face of Wednesday Adam’s and the literal stab in the gut soon after, another thing clouded his mind besides agony. 

What had he done? He had barely talked to this girl. He even helped her when she collapsed. He could understand someone taking a dislike to him or making him a pariah, but stabbing him? There had been no provocation, nor instigation, not a moment of warning or fair judgement, just blind opinion. 

Well, he was his father’s son. Judgement and fairness were drummed into his bones. Not that he was a good judge of character, but everyone deserves to be listened to, to be given a chance to tell their story before their judgement was passed. That’s what made his blood boil. He knew so many who had been blindly judged, and here it was again with someone who so strongly believed they were saving others. 

Nico might have had an overreaction, but so did she. 

He pressed his hand against her neck and felt the pulls at her thread of life. He would be lying if he didn’t feel a little joy, it was like pulling out a hangnail, painful but satisfying. He watched her cold smugness start to drain from her face. 

Then she twisted the dagger. Nico could feel the bones boiling underneath his feet, ready to burst. Maybe he should drag her down below. He’s pretty sure no one would miss her for a day. 

Then she smiled - a cold smile of glee spreading across her face. “I relish death, Necromancer. I don’t fear you.” 

“That’s bad judgement on your part.” Nico hissed down at her. He bet a few hours in the underworld would make her feel different, but as soon as the thought entered his mind, he felt the rocks start to crack underneath his feet. It was usually easy to descend to his father’s domain, but not this easy. Nico cast an eye downwards, and in his moment of hesitation - 

He felt her relax in his hand. Nico blinked at the change. Her skin went cold under his touch. Her breathing stilled as if she were a corpse. He was pretty sure he didn’t kill her. He could feel her thread of life still there, but something was covering it. 

Something morphed over her face, “Let go!”. 

Nico stumbled back. Wednesday's hair went white, her face looked sharper and covered in scars. It was Ophelia, but she didn’t look ghostly at all. She lifted her hand towards him, grasping for a weapon that wasn’t there. Her body visibly shaking as if she was trying to hold Wednesday back “The Woeful and Misery’s perfect child must-” 

Ophelia fell out of Wednesday's body, returning to her ghostly image.

“She was in the middle of saying something!” Nico exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“I’m not a phone.” Wednesday bit out, bringing up her dagger again.

“No, a phone is far more useful.” Nico sneered, as he stepped away to create some distance and put some pressure on his wound. “You see what I’m dealing with here?” He said to Ophelia’s ghost. She seemed to be going back to not saying anything. 

Wednesday finally took notice of her ghostly ancestor “Is that your plan, to have her possess me? So you can have your lover back?” 

“What?” Nico paused, staring at Wednesday incredulously. “Do I look like I’m Imhotep from the Mummy?” 

“What connection do you have with an ancient Egyptian Chancellor and deified figure of medicine?” Wednesday needled as if this were an actual clue. 

Nico sighed and looked at Ophelia “Can you possess her again?” 

“I thought you said that wasn’t your plan.” Wednesday parted her feet slightly, readying herself for a fight. 

“She’s far more useful than you are. And she was in the middle of saying something.” 

“‘The Woeful and Misery’s perfect child must unweave Clotho’s planned guile,’ It’s a line from the prophecy.” Wednesday deadpanned a little more than usual. 

“I know that,”  Nico snapped back. “But I was hoping she would be a bit more forthcoming.”

“I’m Woeful and Misery’s perfect child.” Wednesday stated, rising slightly in stature. 

Nico let that thought sink in, switching hands on his wound. “Your parents are called Misery and Woeful?” 

“It’s an analogy.” Wednesday ground out. 

“How was I supposed to know? Your parents thought Wednesday was a normal name.” Nico waved a hand at her. 

“My mother named me after a line in a poem, ‘Wednesday’s child is full of woe’.” Wednesday said, without a twitch or a hint of emotion. 

“And do prophetic abilities run in your mother’s family?” Nico eyed her up and down. 

“Something like that.” 

Nico leaned back on the altar behind him. “But you over-counted there, Mercoledì. Where does Misery come in? Putting aside your wonderful personality, of course.” 

Wednesday mouth tightened. And that filled Nico with satisfying glee. It was like pulling out the last block in Jenga and watching it fall all over your opponent. 

“Oh, do you not know?” Nico sang. “Did you jump to conclusions?” 

“I know it might refer to two people.” 

“Wow, your biggest fear: teamwork.” Nico deadpanned as he dug in his jacket for some ambrosia. 

Wednesday raised her dagger at his action, which he half-heartedly eyed before going back to his task. Wednesday took this as her chance to gain a bit of ground and started to move around the room.

He was small and lithe-like, but it reminded her of a mangy alley cat. Their fur was mangled, stuck or cleanly shaven in odd patches, with large pleading eyes and a body made of coat hangers - but when threatened, they were fast and sharp as lightning. Pugsley had been scratched by one when they had a family vacation sightseeing the historical murder alleyways of New York. 

But Wednesday knew that everyone was killable, all that was needed was timing and the dedication to doing anything to bring the other down. A weak stomach was the first true weakness in a fight, luckily that was not a trait in the Addams family. 

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Wednesday said.

Nico’s head poked up, but he didn’t turn to face her,  “No one has ever insulted me by calling me a team player.” He was underestimating her, something which she could use to her advantage.

Wednesday scoffed “I wouldn’t exactly describe you and Arius as a team, more master and servant.” 

Nico took a swig from a small canister. His eyes locked with Wednesday when she came back to his field of vision. He tucked the canister back into his pocket, “Who’s Arius?”. 

Wednesday gripped the handle of the dagger tighter. He was seriously underestimating her. It was too dark to tell if he was enjoying his, playing dumb with her. Wednesday didn’t care about the opinions of other people, but she didn’t like others looking down on her. She found that could easily be remedied by cutting off the feet or cutting their head off with her steam-powered guillotine.

A greenish light moved across the tomb, illuminating Nico’s face as Ophelia hovered above the altar he was leaning on. Wednesday saw the Necromancer’s face was stony, but she could see a hint of curiosity mixed in with his apprehension of her. 

Finally, his eyes snapped to Ophelia, before looking down at the tomb he was leaning on.

“Oh.” He read it out “Arius Mabuz, Son of Hades, 1895 to 1913”. There was a sadness in his voice and Wednesday wanted to lob the dagger into his head. 

“You’re a child of Hades. Don’t deny it.” Came Wednesday's voice.

“I wasn’t going to,” Nico answered softly.

“‘Shall the outcasts incur the Necromancer’s Reckoning,’” Wednesday quoted as she started moving again. She could slip in the shadows, attack when he least expected it. She could let her voice echo in the dark, confusing him. 

“That I will deny.” He looked up, but not in Wednesday's direction. Her plan was working.

“So you’re not a Necromancer.” She stated. “You don’t have powers like your siblings did?”

Nico looked at the greenish-tinged faces of his siblings, so chipped and mutilated with age that you could only see a feature or two on their faces. 

“I don’t have anything against Outcasts.” Nico clarified.

“Then why are you here?” She asked. “Why the wondering where you shouldn’t be? The investigations? The prophecy? You expect me to believe this is all just a coincidence? Your ancestors? The crypt?” Her voice echoed around the room, bouncing off the marble walls, vaulted ceilings and stone pillars. 

“Yes.” Nico told her, “Because that’s the truth.” 

“Lies.” Wednesday hissed as she moved behind a pillar. “Have you talked to Arius’ ghost? Have you heard his master plan? I bet you were proud when he burnt those outcasts. That he was just showing them their place, showing them your place.” Wednesday had moved behind another pillar, she could just make out a slim profile of Nico’s face from where it peaked out of his hair. There was an Italian flag on his jacket, she would use that as her target. She couldn’t kill him, with being a child of Hades, he was an unknown variable and death might just make him stronger. She also needed to question him about Arius's master plan, and personally, she hadn’t had a good torture session in a long time.

“Demigods, Harbringers, the Monster killers - it’s what you’re made for and you think that gives you every right to look down on us.” Enshrouded in shadow, she brought up the dagger.

Dark eyes locked with hers and she felt every muscle in her body go cold. It wasn’t like the veiny pitch-black eyes he had before, but it felt just the same. Wednesday got over his stare and clenched her hand tighter around the handle of the dagger. 

“You sound like you’re describing yourself.” He spoke. 

Wednesday froze, but this time, not because of his eyes. She went to muscle memory. The dagger flew in the air, heading straight for Nico’s shoulder. 

But he simply leaned back on the altar and let it clatter against the stone wall. 

Nico saw Wednesday's moon face again, like an owl at night with her large all-seeing eyes. Her breath laboured from the adrenaline in her body. Her pupils flickered like a flame as if she was speed-running a thousand thoughts without ever letting Nico out of her sight. 

…Is this what he had looked like to Bianca? He remembered finally being able to summon her, his dear sister, and she only talked to Percy. Nico remembered how his heart broke, even worse than when she left with the hunters. She had told him of his inherit fatal flaw and he had cursed her for it.  

Nico can’t remember the last time he held a grudge against someone. That burning fire in his bones pushed him to do the impossible. It was terrifying, it even scared him when he was younger. 

But now he saw it again, and he found himself standing in Bianca’s shoes. (God, Mr.D was gonna have a field day when he brought up this moment in their next session.)

Nico sighed, “But first judgment can be wrong. Looks can be deceiving. Trust me, I practically live in the Underworld, where Cerberus has the teeth of a shark, three snarling heads and still pouts for food and steals socks. Bloodthirsty titans can be the most loyal of friends if given the chance. And ghosts…” Nico let his eyes trail to Ophelia and found his gaze returned. “They look terrifying, but honestly, the nicest people I know are dead.” 

Wednesday shifts into Ophelia’s light, her fingers fidgeting at the lack of a weapon. 

“The point of your monologue?” She groused. 

Nico tutted. “People aren’t what they seem. Give them a chance.” 

“Meaning you?” She raised a brow. 

“Yeah,” Nico shrugged, then a smile crept over his face “Coward.” 

Wednesday bottom jaw unhinged. “I’m not going to retaliate to petty name-calling.” 

“Ok, Coward.” 

“What exactly makes me a coward? You’re the one who’s hiding behind a ghost.” She pointed out. 

“Overcoming your fear of teamwork and the horror of other people. Sounds chicken to me.” 

“I can kill you.” 

“Unlikely, but that’s scary-pant’s talk.” Nico grinned. Ok, this was not how Bianca helped him. Younger Nico probably would have cried if Bianca said this to him, but Wednesday looked like she was made of stronger stuff. 

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment. Nico can see the healing scars on Wednesday's face and how her eyes are more grey than black. He could see the differences between Wednesday and Ophelia. Wednesday was still a child, with her round face and the blind surety in her eyes. Ophelia’s eyes held a sadness that all demigods carried, a constant worry of repeating deadly mistakes that haunted them. Ophelia held herself with confidence, that truly knew the importance of it. 

Nico was different to Arius, at least from the one Wednesday saw in her visions. He looked messier, with his hair cut in that bed-head manner, but it wasn’t just that. He looked more worn in comparison to Arius, in the way he held himself. Like at any moment, he could fall asleep on his feet or pounce into an attack. His eyes also looked more human, now that they weren’t pitch black and veiny. They were a warm brown like mahogany, that once looked like they sparkled with life and had been dulled by time. 

“One chance.” Wednesday narrowed her eyes at him. Nico smiled blithely back, dipping his hand in shadow as he made his way to her. And out of thin air, he’s holding her dagger and offering it to her. 

Wednesday snatches it back and slips it into its scabbard. Nico doesn’t move an inch as she does so. 

She decides to stick out her hand to him. Nico eyes the peace offering. “Wednesday Addams: Psychic, Mystery novelist and amateur torture artist.” 

Nico raises a brow at her last descriptor but he shakes her hand anyway, “Nico di Angelo: Son of Hades, Ambassador of Pluto and Oizy's favourite demigod.” He watched Wednesday's brow quirk at the mention of the goddess, but he kept his handshake firm. “Miercoledes, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

—— 

Tyler flipped through Will’s notes, cross-legged on his bed. Will sat opposite him watching him, flipping a pencil between his fingers like he did with his scalpel back at camp.

Will had never told anyone else about his parentage. He was home-schooled by his mom for most of his life, moving from place to place as she toured. His first stable friendships were with other campers, who obviously already knew.

He didn’t feel apprehension. He had faced monsters before, he had healed himself from worse, but for some reason, that felt like a small possibility. That everything would be alright.

He stared hard into Tyler’s face to see if there was a flicker of change. Will’s notes had revealed that Julius was a son of Janus, that alone should have revealed the Greek Pantheon to him. 

Will arched his head to look at the page. “Where are you up to?” 

“I’m still trying to decipher your handwriting.” He groused. Will shuffled closer, “That says 'Muggi', it's old Norse for Marsh.”

“Really?” 

Will took the paper back, “Look I can summarise it.”

“Please.” Tyler said mockingly, putting up little fight to keep the notes.

“Where were you up to?” Will settled the book down on his lap.

“Assume I’ve misread everything.” He waved his hand. “I can’t believe you broke into Nevermore, Goody-two shoes Will. I thought I knew you.” 

“You do know me.” Will objected. “We stole those candy bars together.” 

“I know you bought more and then gave them back to the store, Will.” Tyler said. “Nah, I like this new Will. I wish I could have seen Wednesday's face when you got in. Did she see?” Will pulled a face. 

“She kind of helped me…get in.” There were going to be no more lies. He could just tell him the big truth and ignore the little ones. He had to go completely cold turkey. These were the mini appetiser truths before he got to the big one.

“She did what? How do you even know her?” Tyler sat up. 

“I met her at the weathervane. It was an accident. She had some medical questions and I answered.” Will explained. 

Tyler’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not exactly the helping kind.” 

“Well…I also gave her my Ma’s number if she needed help, which she did because she and her friends went down to some crypt and hurt themselves. And I patched them up, and said she had to get me into Nevermore to return the favour.” Tyler’s eyes darkened midway through the story.

Then he laughed. “You blackmailed her?!” 

“Not exactly.” Will tried to interrupt his laughter. “It was not blackmail!” 

“She was buying your silence.” He pointed out.

“I was giving her an ultimatum.” Will talked over him. 

“Not exactly Good Will, are you?” He joked. Will couldn’t help but snort. “I can’t judge, I dated the girl to do the same.”

Will’s smile shrunk a little. “Well, back to this. Most of the ingredients are pretty easy to get and I can probably get them from the forest or the garden centre.”

“That’s good.” 

“But it seems…you know, how I love Greek mythology.” Will started. There was no going back now. The doorbell rang downstairs, he had no clue if that was the pizza or his mom. He needed to be fast. 

“Second to your love of Star Wars, yeah.” Tyler nodded. 

“Well, I kind of know Ancient Greek, a bit of Latin too but that’s more to do with medical stuff.” Will waved away. He turned the page to face Tyler. “This was written at the beginning. He names himself in Ancient Greek, followed by ‘Son of Janus’. But the way it’s conjugated, it’s referring to Janus as a God.”

Tyler doesn’t say anything, he’s unreadable. 

“There are other things too, all of these,” he runs his finger down the list. “They show up in Greek mythology. He mentions the Greek myths, but he writes as if they actually happened. There are multiple times where he refers to himself and his friends as ‘Hemitheoi' which means-“ Will felt like he was pulling a plug out of a tub. “Demigod.” 

Will gripped the page tighter. “I think that Greek Mythology is real, Tyler. Not think, I know because-“

Tyler yawned. Rubbing his face as he tried to wake himself up.

Will blinked at his reaction. He was thinking nothing. His mind had screeched to an utter halt, but a halt where a car had slammed straight into a brick wall that had appeared out of nowhere. 

“Sorry, just tired, stayed up late last night. You were building up to something.” He gestured to Will. 

“You think I’m joking?” Will tried. He rattled in his head what he could do to prove it to him. Maybe show him some of his photokinesis powers. Maybe he should cut himself and heal it. Or he could do a simple Iris message, though that would mean getting to the bathroom and finding his drachmas and then there’s the question of whether anyone would pick up, he couldn’t even calculate if Nico would be up by now and would that even be the best person to call (he loved his boyfriend but he was not the best introduction -

“I already know about that.” Tyler shrugged. 

“What?” The car that had slammed into a brick wall, had now found the ground had disappeared beneath it's wheels, luney tunes style.

“I already knew about it.” Tyler told him plainly. He got off the bed and Will could only follow him with his gaze, absolutely clueless about what to do next. “Though seems you got my dad’s detective skills. I wondered where that went.” 

“How- How did you know?” Will’s head was starting to reboot and it was rebooting to have a breakdown. He could feel it. All the thought started their engines and started whirling around his head like spinning teacups. 

“I have a friend.” Tyler nonchalantly explains. He grabs the pages from Will’s lap. “I’m also a few steps ahead. There’s one ingredient missing, one you can’t get at any plant centre or specialist shop, right?” 

Will nodded his head. “But it’s- you can’t. I don’t even know how Mugwort got his hands on it.” 

“I do,” Tyler said smugly. “I even know where to get it.” 

“So do I,” Will stood up. He was not letting his cousin go there. “but we can’t. That’s-“ 

“Not the Underworld." Tyler rolled his eyes "There’s a place we can get it right here in Jericho.”

“How? What?” Will stammered. 

“It’s the same place Mugwort got it from.” Tyler started to sort some things on his desk. He took out some fancy stationery and started to scribble a quick note. 

“Where?” 

“I’ll take you there, tomorrow.” Tyler told him as he started to scribble something on a long piece of paper. He curled up the note and made his way to the window. Will tried to follow him. 

“You are electrically tagged! You can’t leave the house unless it's for therapy or a medical check-up.” Will burst out. 

Tyler poked his head out of the window and made two sharp click noises. He looked around a bit and nothing happened. He sighed moving back into his room. Will staggered to follow him. He couldn’t even process what in Hades that was about. 

Tyler pulled out something that looked like a cross between a screwdriver and those little doohickies you use to open an iPhone SIM card slots. 

“It’s simple.” He put his foot up on the chair and slid it into the tag around his ankle. The thing unlocked and slid off his foot, still flashing green. 

“How?” Will stumbled again. 

Tyler opened his bedroom door. “Elvis!” He called. His trusty dog sauntered in. “Paw.” He commanded and then he slipped the contraption on the dogs foot. “They just think I’m pacing most of the time.” He shut the door, letting Elvis run up and take a seat on the bed/

“How can you do this?” Will gestured wildly. 

“Morally or mechanically? Morally, pretty easily. Mechanically, well I’ve always been into machines. I’ve built computers, jail-locked phones, even made an espresso machine malfunction on my command.” He smiled. It was like when he and Will had first climbed the big tree in the forest. Tyler’s big proud face grinned down at him. 

Will felt sick. 

“I could just get it for you,” Will said faintly. “I don’t want you to get into any more trouble.”

“I want you to meet someone. It’s who I’ve been sneaking out to meet. They’re the ones who told me about the Greek Pantheon. You think it’s just that Will, but they’re at every corner of this world, hiding in plain sight.” 

Will opened his mouth again, but his voice was silenced by the flapping of leathery wings. A bat just landed on Tyler’s window sill. 

Will baulked slightly, eyes wide. Elvis didn’t bark at the creature, making Will believe that this was a common occurrence. 

“Finally.” Tyler moved to tie the message around the bat’s little black feet. He then makes three clicks, and let the bat fly off into the night. 

“You can ask all your nerdy questions about the Greek pantheon tomorrow night, ok?” Tyler said. He snapped his fingers to motion Elvis to come back to him, and he took the electric tag off to slide it back onto his ankle.

“Well?” His head then cocked to the side. “Will, you ok?”

Will looked up and plastered on a smile. 

“Yeah. Great. I have so many questions.” His stomach felt empty. Gone was giddiness. Gone was guilt. 

“Boys, Pizza’s ready!” Uncle Don called down below. 

“God, I hope he orders the carnivore one.” Tyler noted, “Will, you coming?”

“I’ll be down in a sec.” he smiled. Tyler eyed him but left anyway. 

Will always knew what to do. He was a planner. He was methodical. Yes, his head could be cluttered by other plans. He liked to have a Plan B, D, C, E or however many plans were necessary. The Greeks were known for being more of a loose gun-slinger, quick on their feet adapters, but when Will entered the New Rome infirmary he felt at peace. He liked creating order, even if there was chaos in his head. He liked organising chaos. He was a fanatic for puzzles and jigsaws. Finding that loose string on the Gordian knot and tugging it, filled him with so much delight. The way his head would come up with several solutions to try and retry. 

He didn’t feel that now. He felt cold. He felt lost. He felt empty. He felt dread. 

Will stood up and made his way to his room. He noticed the glint of zip-locked drachmas winking at him from his open bag. He took them and stuck them deep, deep, deep into the crevices of his suitcase. He piled his dirty clothes on it higher and higher. 

Before moving that all away taking each coin and hiding them individually. One in his shoe, one in his pillowcase, one in the bag compartment he never opened, one in his hoodie with a broken pocket. He hid them all till his face was red and his breath was heavy.

He looked down to find his hands shaking. They hadn’t shaken since the battle of Gaea. 

Will stumbled back onto the bed. He took the pillow and screamed. He screamed until his lungs were empty. Until he found the case was damp. 

“Will?” Came Tyler’s voice. 

“Coming.” He called. 

He imagined he just had another shitty night at the infirmary. That he had lost another camper, another friend, someone who couldn’t be saved because of his incompetence. And imagined his newest youngest siblings were waiting for him at singalong. 

Will put on a smile.