Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The coming of summer presented two major upsides if you were living on the streets. Your thin, worn-out layers seemed less out of place. And the lack of a reliable shower was less noticeable among the sweat of everyone else.

This would be Ethan’s first full summer homeless, a whole year since he’d left Camp Half-Blood behind to claim his destiny as a child of Nemesis. He didn’t exactly like being out here, where he could count himself lucky to get a proper roof over his head in a thunderstorm. But it didn’t feel like he had any choices, he couldn’t go back to camp, he didn’t have a home outside of it anymore, and the Titan Army…

When he’d first left he had meant to buy himself some time to choose, almost a year and a half later he was still stuck in limbo. He wanted to bring respect to his mother, he really did, but there was something about pledging his soul to Kronos that made his stomach churn.

He glanced over the boy in front of him properly for the first time. He was a kid, a little under a head shorter than Ethan (who wasn’t exactly a giant himself), with hair as dark as his own but longer. It touched his shoulders, the longest parts creeping past them. A grey shirt was barely visible underneath a brown bomber jacket that looked like some kind of odd robe on him. It was so big. And he was pale, too pale like he’d crawled up from the ground just that morning and hadn’t seen the sun before it. He had been creeping along the edge of the street, dark eyes striking out ahead of him, searching for danger. A half-blood, no doubt about it.

He held out a kitchen knife oddly, sideways, like he was planning on slashing Ethan with it. If he’d ever been trained with a knife he’d know to point it forward.

But he still did have a stance. And it looked like he would be able to hold a sword, albeit with variable results. It could be instinct, of course, plenty of half-bloods had it but…

“That’s not going to get you very far,” Ethan nodded at the flimsy blade. “Unless you’re going for Top Chef you’d be better off with basically anything else.”

The boy just glared at him, retreating into his jacket.

Ethan sighed, better he give the kid a little help than have his inevitable death on his hands.

“I don’t have any celestial bronze,” he gestured to his knife, “ other than this. But I’ve got steel.”

He handed Nico a steel dagger. He’d found it a while ago stashed in an abandoned house, part of some other demigod’s stash probably. Giving it to someone else made him feel a bit better about having stolen it from someone who probably needed it.

“Ethan Nakamura.”

“Nico di Angelo,” The boy responded, taking the dagger warily.

He decided to take a guess at the boy’s origins. “You should have stolen something from the shed at camp before you left.”

Nico stepped back back, eyes widening.

“How did you know? Are you from camp?”

“No, well… not anymore. I left, you know, fuck the gods.” He rambled. He doubted he should be swearing in front of a kid.

“Are you with the other guy then?” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Kronos.” Nico clarified.

“I… no. No, I ran away from camp a while ago and I’ve lived out here ever since.”

“Then how did you know I-”

“Mostly guesswork,” he gestured to Nico’s feet, now out of their previous stance. “You don’t have much technique but you do have some. And you just confirmed it.” He smiled slightly.

Nico drew himself out of his jacket suddenly, seemingly unable to resist, “Why do you have an eyepatch?” And then, “Are you a pirate?”

Ethan sighed, when he had given his eye up for a chance to change the world he had anticipated many struggles. Relearning how to fight on the streets where he had no one to lean on and no luxury to fuck up. Finding his way to completing his destiny, after all, was he supposed to walk up to the first monster he found and announce he had a destiny to fulfil?

What he hadn’t anticipated was the sheer amount of people who thought they had a right to hear whatever, tragic story he must be hiding. Or worse the ‘sympathetic’ looks he got, like just because he had a disability that meant his life had to be completely miserable. He didn’t even think his story was all that tragic. He preferred to see it as triumphant.

The pirate comment did crack him up a bit though.

“No,” he said, firmly setting that boundary, “I’m not a pirate. I have an eyepatch to stop the wind from blowing around in the socket.”

Nico’s face scrunched up, “Gross.”

“It’s even grosser to feel,” Ethan assured.

-+-

They stayed together that night, sleeping next to a stream under a bridge by the edge of the water so polluted it reminded Ethan of tar. Nico had kept sneaking glances at it when he thought Ethan wasn’t looking, he must have grown up away from the city. It would explain his odd accent he supposed. He had made sure to warn Nico very firmly not to touch it.

He had expected that they would go their separate ways but it soon became clear that neither of them had anywhere to be.

“You have to point the knife out,” Ethan instructed as he adjusted Nico’s hold on it. It was the third day of their ‘alliance’ and he was trying to teach him. “You stab with a dagger. If you wanna slash you get a sword.”

“I don’t have a sword,” Nico grumbled but followed the instructions anyway.

Nico stepped forward and swung his arm out, bringing the dagger straight into the open air in front of him with a high-pitched whoosh. However, he wasn’t properly prepared for the movement. He stumbled forward, nearly losing his balance. The dagger flew off course and he dropped it. Ethan barely managed to catch it before clattered into the river and got sloshed away.

“Oops.”

Ethan sighed.

-+-

They both sat in an alleyway over a campfire lit in an old trash can. Nico had insisted on trying to light it himself and had kept putting the matches in too quickly, so they went out before anything could catch. It had taken almost an hour for him to get the hang of it so they were only now getting any warmth from the fire. When the world was black, and no stars were visible under the polluted sky.

“So you ran away from camp a year ago,” Nico said.

Ethan was getting used to his presence. It was comforting, like something or someone he used to know.

“Almost a year ago,” Ethan added a few more sticks to the fire.

“Close enough,” Nico whined. It felt important somehow to Ethan, he hadn’t been out here that long. “Are there any other demigods out here?”He asked.

Ethan shrugged, “A few, not many who know what they are. The ones who do… they’re not very nice. You don’t want to meet them.”

“Do you know who your godly parent is?”

He thought now might be the right time to ask Nico about his godly parent. He had been worrying about it, for many people he’d known it had been a sore subject. Lack of acknowledgement from a parent, especially if the other parent was also absent, was not fun.

“No,” Nico shook his head. “Do you know who yours is?”

“N… Nemesis,” Ethan fumbled a little, “Goddess of balance, and revenge.”

“Revenge,” Nico echoed, “that’s pretty cool.”

-+-

Ethan bent over his dagger, having to sharpen it every few weeks made him want to switch to whatever wooden plank he happened to come across at the moment. He felt Nico’s odd presence come up behind him.

It had been nearly a week before Ethan guessed he was close enough with Nico to ask about his past. A week for most people wasn’t much, but when you were a demigod on the run, relying on your partner completely to avoid getting devoured by some unholy beast, you got very close very quickly.

“Where were you before here exactly?” He asked.

Nico shrugged, “I ran away from camp.”

“Well,” Ethan sighed, “Yeah. But how, and why?”

Nico did that thing where he wrapped himself in his jacket, sinking into it like he was trying to bury himself. He was quiet for a long time.

“Percy Jackson got my sister killed.”

Ethan blinked, “What?” This was the first he was hearing of Nico having a sister.

“Percy Jackson got my sister killed. He promised he would protect her but he lied!” There was something darker in Nico’s tone now, something Ethan had seen parts of when they had trained, or when Ethan had talked about the gods. “I ran away, and I was in this maze. There were lots of monsters, and it was really confusing. And it went really deep, like it was underground but it can lead… somewhere else.”

Ethan didn’t really understand what Nico was going on about, and from the faraway look in the kid’s eyes, he didn’t either. That weird feeling came over Ethan again, for some reason he thought he should be scared but he just… wasn’t.

“I wasn’t in there for very long I think, but I came out here and it had been a lot longer than I thought.”

There was silence for a few more moments. The only sound filling the air was the raspy scrapes and grinding sounds of Ethan’s sharpener against his blade.

“Ethan?” Nico finally asked.

“Yeah?” Ethan blinked, ripped from his own train of thought.

“Why did you leave?”

“What?”

“Why did you leave Camp Half-Blood?”

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, Ethan wasn’t sure what or how to say.

“You’re not a part of the Titan Army, but you still left. Do people do that?”

“You did,” Ethan pointed out.

“That… well I know why I left, but why did you leave?” He didn’t want to tell Nico, he couldn’t afford to scare him off. He felt sure he wouldn’t survive out there on his own, people his age just didn’t survive all on their own.

“I just did.” He tried to be firm, hoping that Nico wouldn’t follow up.

“Yes but why?” Nico seemed more insistent, he wanted to know. “Isn’t it better to be at camp for you than be caught by them?”

“They’re not so bad,” Ethan mumbled, after all, he knew people, knew someone, who had joined.

“Yes, they are.” Nico sounded almost offended, “They’re evil.”

“It’s not that black and white!” Ethan snapped.

“So you were going to join?” Nico accused.

“What if I did! What if… I did! I did want to join okay!” Ethan was shouting now. Shouting at a kid. “I meant to… I… I mean too I just...”

Nico had gotten up and backed away from him. Ethan spotted his hand snaking to the dagger tied to his side—the dagger Ethan had given him.

There had to be some way to explain this, even to a ten-year-old.

“My mom is the goddess of balance. When I left camp she claimed me, because I finally understood what I was meant to do, make everything balanced. Earn respect for her. I gave up my eye to do it. It might not be pretty but this world is super fucked up trust me.”

“Then why aren’t you there right now!”

“I… I will be, soon.” He knew he had to go eventually. It was fate, he could feel it like the string of Lachesis herself was pulling him all way to that damned mountain. He didn’t think he could avoid it if he wanted to, only wait.

“You lied to me!” Nico shouted.

“No! I… I… I didn’t! I didn’t mean to.”

“You did! You said you weren’t with them!” He had the knife out now. Still not holding out out properly. He was backing away now. Ethan could have disarmed him easily.

“Nico wait!” He reached out but Nico just backed away further. “You can’t just go off it’s dangerous!”

“What are you gonna do? Try to stop me?”

Ethan didn’t know what to do. The ground felt like it was falling out from under him. Like it was shaking so badly he was in the centre of an earthquake.

Ethan must have tripped on something, he fell. His hands got cut open on the rough gravel, they were bleeding.

Nico stood dead still for a second. Then turned and ran.

Ethan didn’t know how long it took of him sitting there to realise what had happened. He released why Nico’s presence made him feel that way. It reminded him of Alabaster. He was a chthonic kid.

Chapter Text

The labyrinth was downright hellish and not just because some parts of it lead to the Greek equivalent.

It seemed designed to strike every one of Alabaster's nerves. Alabaster thrived on routine and struggled with time even in the upper world. The labyrinth seemed to pulverise any form of routine he could string together, with its surprise monsters and poison spike pits, and, with its same-y endless corridors. It left him unable to tell if he had been squirming under the skin of the earth for two hours, or two years. The legends had it all wrong, it wasn’t the fear that crept up on you; it was the suffocation. The walls closed in and the air was thick and heavy. It grated on him more than anything else.

He wasn’t even a good pick for the mission. He didn’t have an affinity for the mist at all. His affinity was for runes and, though they shared a name, he found mistforms weren’t like the mist at all past their creation, once the spell was cast there was no need to shape anything. That was what he liked about runes, they were exact, spells cast with formulas and recipes that could stay suspended and ready for weeks at a time. Like baking a cake, if you followed the recipe it would turn out good every time, if it didn’t you had a crap recipe.

Mist manipulation wasn’t like that. It was a story you had to tell over and over, and when done well the idea was it would be impossible to see through. Sure there was the stuff most people thought of, the mist itself hiding the mythological world from mortals by assigning whatever random, and often inconvenient, thing that fit the vague shape of whatever was being hidden. Demigods could see through that instinctually, there was no effort put in. But real mist manipulation was an art, Alabaster remembered watching for hours as his older siblings crafted intricate illusions.

Unfortunately, they were all gone now, and the only other siblings who could come close to that were far too young to be sent into the labyrinth alone. Not that he would let them even if they weren’t.

So he was left there, wandering those mind-shattering halls.

He sighed as he moved out from the crawl space he had been squirming along for what felt like the last hour. His knees cracked sickeningly as he rose and he took a moment to stretch.

He noted his surroundings, Luke had said the entrance at camp had been a cave-like corridor and he had no idea what the workshop of Daedalus would look like after thousands of years. The place he was in now was a long platform of rotting wood, shielded by red brick walls dotted with horizontal blacked-out windows like teeth in a giant bite mark. It was like half a 19th-century train station left to rot.

In the dulled-out liminal space, Alabaster could easily spot a piece of scarlet trash a few feet ahead of him. He ran over to it, an empty Happy Meal box, it looked fresh, only a few wrinkles in it. Though using any kind of logical reasoning tended to be a bad idea in the labyrinth this gave Alabaster a little hope… or dread. Either there was an exit somewhere near here for a Happy Meal box to fall, or some poor kid had wandered off into this place with it. Alabaster decided to believe it was the former.

He moved through the weird half-station as quickly as he could, keeping an eye out for monsters.

There seemed to be only one exit, a tall anachronistic archway carved into the wall with no regard for the integrity of the brick; Alabaster got a weird feeling. He tapped the rune on his sleeve, a complex circular design that glowed neon green, and pulled at the space above the archway with his mind.

The mist fell away like a curtain, dispersing onto the floor.

The first thing Alabaster noticed was the growling. It was a deep, low thrum that made the air itself shake. Even knowing the Labyrinth's power he was shocked he almost hadn’t sensed anything.

The second thing he noticed was the trapdoor. A hinged wooden plate above the archway that looked practically new in comparison to the rotted wood of the platform. There was no growling coming from it so Alabaster made up his mind pretty quickly. It was just a matter of how to get up there.

Then he spotted a wooden crate. Tossed to the corner haphazardly for no apparent reason except to make things more difficult for him. Alabaster grabbed it and placed it in front of the archway, hoping whatever lay beyond the threshold wouldn’t smell him in time to do anything about it. He tested it, it was shaky but it gave him enough leverage to easily pull himself up.

Just as he was about to kick off, the growling stopped abruptly.

“That can’t be good,” he muttered, opening the door to reveal a brick tunnel resembling a chimney.

He hoisted himself up so he was now suspended by his arms. What followed was a slow and ungraceful shimmying forward, the brick clawing at whatever skin was left exposed. Alabaster was almost to the point where he could get his legs over the edge when something lurched out, nearly grabbing him.

It was a massive set of jaws attached to an equally massive scaly green skull, and Alabaster was not sticking around to see what the rest of the body looked like. He scrambled into the tunnel without so much as a second thought.
After a few feet the tunnel opened up, getting taller and taller. Alabaster realised if it slopped down, the archway would have led to a dead end. Then he heard something, not the usual soft wiring and grinding of the labyrinth of the ominous sound or monsters. It sounded like human voices. He moved quickly and soon found the source of the voice.

Now, Alabaster could see ghosts, Hecate was a resident of the underworld after all. Shell, his 12-year-old sister back at Othrys, even did regular necromancy, but Alabaster couldn’t handle them. Their presence away from the land of the dead just felt wrong. It made him feel sick, like that one time when he’d been on a road trip with his father and had insisted on reading a book the whole way.

So as soon as he turned to face the source of the voices he felt nauseous. There was a kid, probably around ten or eleven, not all that younger than Alabaster really but much too young to be down here. He was scrawny and so pale it was almost sickly, with pitch-black hair that brushed his shoulders. He wore a brown bomber jacket two sizes two big and a black t-shirt with a skeleton design on the front. The boy reminded Alabaster of his younger siblings back home, homesickness cut through the nausea.

Hovering above him was a ghost, and though its form kept swimming in and out of Alabaster’s vision he could make out the prongs of a crown.

“How did you get here?” The boy asked, he held out a black of dark iron, stygian iron, definitely a chthonic kid.

Alabaster eyed him, “Came through the tunnel, same as you I assume?”

He offered no confirmation.

“Who are you? Are you a demigod?” He said as he clumsily thrusted his sword out more, Alabaster backed up.

“Hey! Yes, I’m a demigod,” His voice was horse from disuse. “My name’s Alabaster.”

“Are you from Camp Half-Blood?”

Alabaster twitched slightly, “No… no, not for a long time.”

The ghost started talking and the room spun upside down. Alabaster had to double over because of the nausea that overtook him. He had no hope of making out what the thing was saying, luckily he didn’t have to. The boy, who seemingly hadn’t been at all affected by the ghost, whispered back to it. He was terrible at whispering.

“Yeah but if he’s like Ethan-”

Alabaster unconsciously rubbed the tops of his nails, but they were bare. There had been no polish on them for a long time. He hadn’t seen Ethan for a long time.

“Ethan?” He interrupted, “Ethan Nakamura?”

The boy’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, “You know him?”

“Yeah, yeah we’re… we were friends.” Friends seemed like an understatement. “You’ve seen him? At camp?” He hated how casual that sounded.

The boy shook his head and gestured upwards with it, “Up there. He left, ‘fuck the gods and all’.”

Alabaster snorted, “He’s got that right. Do you remember where he was? Or where he was going?”

“He wasn’t going anywhere.” The kid started, “I spent a week with him in…”

Alabaster tried not to let the wave of nausea show as the ghost spoke again.

The boy’s eyes turned angry all of a sudden, “How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

He swung the sword, Alabaster had to back up so fast he tripped over himself.

“Wow! Wow! Hey!” He raised his hands, “You wanna put that thing down? You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“You’re just scared I’m gonna hurt you!” The boy accused.

Alabaster chuckled, “I could send you flying with one good hit, maybe even a fakeout. Your stance is the only mildly okay thing, your grip is terrible, and that sword is shaking so much I keep thinking we’re in an earthquake. If you weren’t chthonic you would have been sucked into that thing the second you tried to use it.”

The boy scowled, “What’s chthonic?” Alabaster caught his eyes flicker to his feet.

“In or beneath the earth, it means thing relating to the underworld, the land of the dead,” he nodded to the ghost, “Like your friend there. In this case, though, I'm talking about chthonic gods, which means…”

“Gods from the underworld!” Something lit up in his eyes.

“Exactly. That right there,” he gestured to the sword, “is stygian iron, it’s from the underworld and can only be used safely by chthonic gods or their kids, which you are, and I am.”

“You’re the child of an underworld god?”

He nodded, “Hecate, goddess of crossroad, the mist, magic and necromancy.”

“Necromancy?”

“Yeah that’s-”

“I know what it is!” His eyes looked back to the ghost, but something Alabaster had said seemed to have hooked him. “So you’re like me?”

“Yeah, do you know who your godly parent is?”

The boy shook his head, “I know it’s my dad. But you can see him?” He gestured towards the ghost.

“Kind of, I’m not very good at the death stuff, that’s my sister.”

“And you’re not with Percy.”

“Jackson?” Alabaster asked, as if he could be talking about anyone else.

He nodded.

“No,” Alabaster shook his head, “Never met him.”

A thought seemed to occur to the kid, he raised his sword. “Are you with Kronos?”

“What do you know about Kronos?” Alabaster could only guess.

“He’s evil.” The boy deadpanned

“Well, I am in the Titan Army.” Alabaster figured it would be best to be upfront with him. That usually worked with his siblings. “But I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

The boy frowned, “how do I know you’re not lying?”

“Right now my only concern is trying to make it out of this place in one piece.” He sighed, “And I don’t particularly want to see a kid die in here. Titan Army or not. Besides,” Alabaster gestured behind him, “I’m not going back through that tunnel, and I’m not letting you fight the giant monster back there.”

Alabaster winced as the boy and the Ghost conferred. The raspy sound seemed to ricochet off the walls, getting louder and more warped. Alabaster covered his ears until a good few moments after the talking stopped. The boy stood there for a few moments, presumably of frustration, before resigning.

"Fine." He fumbled with his sword until it fell into the scabbard at his side. Its tip dug into the ground, leaving a trail in the dirt behind him as he started walking.

They were quiet for a while, but it felt like it was getting harder for Alabaster to think with that damned ghost floating around.

"Hey, ah, can you…" he gestured vaguely at the apparition. "Get… him? To go away? It's giving me a headache."

The boy didn't look happy about it, and the ghost wasn't either judging by the intensity of the headspliting rasp. They seemed to reach a breaking point though because the boy snapped.

"Just go!" He seemed to shout a lot. "I'll call you if I need you!"

The blueish-greyish vapour dissolved immediately. Now that was weird. Alabaster has seen his siblings summon a good few ghosts over the years, but even the most experienced ones had needed at least an incantation, usually a charm or something, to get a ghost to leave. Especially if it was tied to the place like this one seemed to be.

It was probably for the best anyway so Alabaster didn't question it. Ghost kings hanging around cursed labyrinths were hardly good supervision for children if you asked him.

Now that his headache was clearing he realised he didn't actually know the boy's name. He also hadn't introduced himself.

"I'm Alabaster, what's your name?"

"Nico" He responded shortly.

"What brought you down here?"

Nico ignored him, surprising Alabaster with the sudden cageyness. It must be a sore spot which meant something had happened to him. Alabaster couldn’t help but feel sorry for him even though he knew when he was that age the last thing he would have wanted was sympathy. They walked in silence.

They walked down the tunnel for what felt like hours. Which meant the actual time was anyone's guess. Maybe they hadn't even moved at all.

They stopped to rest at a random point that looked no different from the one they'd met in. Alabaster shared his food with Nico, who didn't seem to have any.

"You don't have any food?" That was concerning, it was a good thing they'd found each other.

"I have a little," he shrugged, "if I want more I'll just go up."

He said it like it was a simple thing. Maybe his ghost friend had guided him.

They ate in silence, which Alabaster was perfectly okay with, until Nico asked him.

"Did you really know Ethan?"

It took Alabaster a moment to realise what he was talking about.

"Uh, yeah. Actually…" he leaned over and started digging through his bag until he found his wallet. He kept a few different photos in there, from Polaroids to printer ones. Various photos of loved ones. He shuffled through them until he found the one of him and Ethan. "Take a look."

It was a film photo, taken two years ago at camp. Alabaster had just made his first mistform and his oldest sibling, Leah, had taken the photo to celebrate. Alabaster held up a card with the crude outline of a pen drawn on it. Ethan hung off him, leaning toward the camera with that victorious grin of his, pearly teeth peeking out from behind his lips. His charcoal hair was frozen as it swayed through the air. Alabaster still remembers what it had felt like under his palms and twisted around his fingers. It was soft, fluffy, and smelled like vanilla. He remembered the eyes captured on that paper, dark like ebony wood but glossy like it was newly polished. He used to get distracted just looking at them, then Ethan would notice, and they'd both look away, then burst out laughing.

Nico's eyes flashed over the glossy piece of paper.

“He's not a pirate,” He murmured.

Alabaster's attention snapped to him, “What?”

“He doesn’t look like a pirate,” Nico clarified as if it were obvious. “He’s got both eyes.”

Panic rushed through him, “What do you mean ‘he’s got both eyes’? What happened to his eyes?”

Nico shrugged, “He said he gave it up so he could bring balance.”

“What balance?” Alabaster demanded.

“To the world or something,” He suddenly fixed his face to the floor. “I ran away after that, he said he was gonna join Kronos.”

The news rattled Alabaster. He felt the urge rise within him to shake Nico by the shoulders until he let loose everything he knew. He wanted every detail, every update, he wanted to know exactly what had happened to Ethan since he’d last seen him.

But he steadied himself. Nico was clearly uneasy, and he already didn’t trust Alabaster because he was Titan Army. Pressing an eleven-year-old for details he probably didn’t even have would only make him run away and not be found again. Alabaster didn’t want that blood on his hands, he was no Olympian.

He nudged Nico playfully, “S-so, he looks like a pirate eh?”

The boy perked up, “Yeah he’s got an eyepatch and everything, it looks sooo cool.”

Alabaster laughed, the image of Ethan with a set of stripped pants and a parrot on his shoulder came to mind.

-+-

They had grown to trust each other in the labyrinth faster than Alabaster thought. But with two of them down there together, the monster attacks had more than doubled in frequency. Alabaster had thought being a Titan Army member would lessen the monster attacks at least a little, but ever since he had picked up Nico, the two had been unable to have a moment of peace longer than two hours.

He couldn’t even tell if this was a normal amount of monsters. They were in the labyrinth, but both he and Nico were chthonic kids, should that have meant they’d face fewer attacks from underworld-based monsters? Or maybe more?

“Look,” Alabaster sighed from his seat in the booth of a run-down McDonald’s, “we’re not even half a day’s travel away from Othrys, can we please just go for a little and restock? There’s a labyrinth entrance nearby and I swear if you don’t want to stay we will go back down.”

Nico's face crumpled up like an accordion, his reactions to the idea had ranged from fear to frustration but even he had to admit they couldn’t keep this up. In the last two days, he’d been following Alabaster’s advice with at least 60% less questioning, which could be a good sign he supposed.

“Minos won’t be happy,” Nico finally answered.

“You can apologise to him if you go back down there. Trust me, there’s not much he can do about it. He’s dead.”

Alabaster wasn’t actually as sure about that as he was letting on. The fact that Minos was a judge of the dead may have some effect, but if he was spending his free time manipulating random 11-year-old necromancers, he probably wasn’t that big of an issue. Alabaster was sure at the very worst Kronos would be able to scare him off, for a price.

Alabaster nudged him playfully, “You can’t get rid of me don’t worry. I don’t trust you to be by yourself.”

“Hey,” Nico complained, but his heart didn’t sound in it.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

It didn’t seem to reassure Nico, in fact, it seemed to make things worse because Alabaster could swear he saw the boy flinch at that.

“You don’t know that,” he insisted firmly, “You can’t protect me!”

Alabaster looked around, despite the lack of people in the restaurant aside from two burnt-out-looking employees.

“That’s not true,” He said, “I will I swear.”

“Well, he couldn’t protect her!” Nico said, half caught up in his own world

“Who couldn’t protect who?” Alabaster asked, trying to be as gentle as possible.

A sob escaped Nico’s lips, “Percy…” He started to actually cry then, Alabaster wasn’t sure what to do. Should he reach over? Hug him? Were they that close yet?

In the time it took for him to have this crisis, Nico had composed himself enough to get words out again.

“Percy said he would keep my sister safe, he promised! But he couldn’t, he lied!” Nico cried, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks faster than he could wipe them away.

He wasn’t quite sure how to approach this, he was never good at handling things sensitively. However, he did know a few things about grief. I can do this, he thought. He took a deep breath, trying to let go of all his nerves on the exhale.

“Look, I… I know what it’s like to lose an older sister- Hell, I even know what it’s like when someone fails to protect them.” He struggled to get the words out in his usual collected manner. He hated talking about her, it made him feel weak and powerless all over again.

He reached a hand across the sunbleached plastic table. Nico gripped his wrist.

“It’s not fair,” he murmured.

“It’s not,” Alabaster nodded.

They sat there taking in each other’s grief in silence, Alabaster thought an onlooker might think they were strangers sitting at a table together for the first time. Alabaster took apprehensive bites of food now and again, but he was far more focused on Nico’s words, turning them over in his mind like a child with rocks on a beach. There was an understanding between them, he thought. They were both so young yet they had lost so much, and it would forever change them.

Either that or he was projecting. Big time.

“You’re right, I can’t promise to protect you,” He admitted. “But I can, and I will, promise to try.”

Nico’s eyes stayed firmly focused on his lap.

“Nico,” Alabaster put a hand on his shoulder. “I swear on the river Styx that I will try to do everything within my power to protect you.”

Nico’s head snapped up like a rubber band, thunder rumbled somewhere overhead. Alabaster hated that the thunder was a confirmation of the oath, it made him feel like Zeus was about to come down and smite him for his crimes against the all-mighty Olympian mafia.

Nico stared at him, and then his expression changed, though for what reason Alabaster couldn’t guess.

“Okay,” Nico’s voice was a little shaky, but he sounded more assured than he had been since the conversation started. “Let’s go.”

“You sure?” Alabaster asked, “I don’t want you to think I’ll only protect you if you go along with me.” Did he think that? Did he think Alabaster would just up and leave him to die? After all they’d been through the last few weeks?

“No I’m sure,” Nico said, with surprising firmness for an eleven-year-old. Then he said more softly, as if it was a secret for just the two of them to share, “I trust you.”

Alabaster held his hand for what felt like a long moment. The two of them were in their little bubble, where they could be happy, where they could be two kids in a McDonalds in the middle of nowhere at 3 in the morning.

Then Alabaster finished the last of his burger, activated his phone, and rose from the table.

He walked to the outside of the restaurant, and the burner rang out into the warm night air until the line was picked up.

“Jesus Al it’s the middle of the night,” The sleepy voice picked up.

“Three-thirty actually,” He corrected, the voice groaned, “Look time in the labyrinth is weird okay! I need a lift to Othrys I’m in fuck nowhere Colorado. I found a kid in there, I’m taking him to the mountain.”

“A stray?”

“Runaway camper, young kid about eleven.”

“Shit.” There was the muffled sound of what might’ve been bedsheets over the line, then a few moments later, the electronic sounds of what must’ve been a computer. “Okay, we can probably get someone to you in a few hours. Gonna need a real location though.”

He nodded… then promptly remembered the person on the other end couldn’t see him. “Uh yeah sure…”

Chapter Text

Mount Othrys was not what most people would expect from an ancient Titan’s palace. Nico imagined a palace as something that rose up from the land, huge and intimidating with spires that reached up into the clouds and moats full of deadly beasts. Othrys was comparatively modest.

When the truck they were riding in reached the foot of the mountain Nico didn’t even know if it was the right one. The mountain appeared to be like any other in the area, large and dark with a sloped top and patches of greenery along its edges. It wasn’t even that tall.

It was only when they got closer that he realised there was in fact a palace there, but it looked more like a fortress. It was low, only about three floors in the tallest parts, and it hid against the dark rock of the mountain with walls of black marble and wispy-looking spikes that faded into the cloudy sky. When he came up close to it he saw the lines streaking through the polished black marble were what made it look textured, mimicking the details of weathered rock unless he brought his hands up against it and felt the smooth surface.

It was also so… alive. From the moment they got close enough Nico could spot people walking along the top walls, armour glinting in the sunlight. He could hear voices being carried by the wind, kids like him. People and monsters alike came in and out of the great doors as they walked inside into a small hall. There was a trio supporting a kid as he limped across the hall to the right. There was a creature with snakes in place of legs who sped towards the garages, something big and heavy looking in her hands. There were tired and sweaty people coming down staircases and others pushing past them to get up, swords and spears in hands. It was so much like camp in all the ways he didn’t expect.

“It’s not much yet,” Alabaster shrugged, holding tightly to Nico’s hand. “But it’s getting better everyday.”

Nico could believe it. It felt as if the whole place was alive and moving with its inhabitants. Not a group of stagnant buildings that would see people ride in over its hills only to run away into the dead of the night. Something that was made up of each and every one of them.

Alabaster led him up a small spiral staircase on the right side of the entry hall, though not without taking a glance to a staircase leading down. The workshops. That was where Alabaster and his siblings worked on spells and cool potions all day. The staircase wound up and took them to a group of about three rooms, five faces stood waiting for them. All immediately focused on them.

Everyone in the room looked like they were adults, older than even Alabaster.

Nico looked over them and was surprised to find they looked familiar, though he couldn’t have guessed from where. He could swear he’d seen them before, at camp maybe? Somewhere else before then?

There were two guys next to each other, or rather on top of each other. One was standing while the other had his arms around the boy's neck, hanging off him. His body was lean and muscular, skin tanned like he spent all day on the beach, his eyes were hazel and his hair was long, almost reaching his shoulders in inky black curls. He looked like a college student, except for the scars that littered his body, an old gash on his forearm, a nick in his ear. It unsettled Nico. It wasn’t right.

The other guy was tall and bulkier, and in a few years Nico could imagine him as a stone faced general in an action movie. He could have been an instructor at Nico’s old boarding school. He had a crop of coily hair, dyed purple and circled by a blue bandana. His skin was dark, occasionally interrupted with similar pinkish scars to his friend. He had a faint smile though as he looked at the boy hanging off him. It made him look a lot less scary.

There was a man further away from the staircase, and maybe it was the traces of facial hair on his chin, or how he towered over Nico, but he looked like the oldest. He had a wild look in his eyes, which were framed by choppy pieces of dull blond hair. He was grinning at Nico for some unknown reason, but it didn’t reassure him, it unsettled him like a tiger did when baring its teeth.

Nico almost missed the girl at the far end of the space. She was half buried in the shadows and lent against the wall still as a statue. She was the only one not smiling, but looking over both him and Alabaster. Her blue eyes, curtained by bits of tawny hair that fell over her pale face, were the only things moving.

Nico looked away from her quickly. Looking at her was like looking at a horror game Bianca didn’t want him playing.

But… he wasn’t sure if she was a monster or something, because he swore he saw a weird movement behind her, like she had a tail or something. But Alabaster had been very clear in telling him he shouldn’t be rude to any of the monsters, and that asking them about extra limbs was in fact rude. Like asking a soldier about missing limbs, you just didn’t do it.

The lean guy broke away from the group, he nodded to Alabaster and some secret message passed between them. Then he looked at Nico.

“This the kid?” He asked, Alabaster nodded.

He leant down slightly, “Hi, I’m Aron, son of Dike. This is Felix,” He pointed to the boy he’d been with, “Wren,” the girl in the corner, “and Russel,” the tiger looking guy. “What’s your name?”

“Nico di Angelo,” he held out his hand and Aron shook it.

“Nice to meet you Nico, we’ve,” he gestured to the others in the room, “gotta get a report from Alabaster. It’s gonna take a while and be pretty boring so in the meantime Russel will take you to the infirmary.”

He gripped Alabaster’s arm more tightly, “I’m not sick.”

Alabaster looked down to him. “They know, but you should get some of those injuries checked out.”

It was true that Nico had some injuries from the labyrinth…

“I'll see you as soon as I'm done, okay?” He assured.

Nico nodded, Alabaster gave his hand a squeeze and then let go. Nico hugged him quickly.

The Tiger Guy (or ‘Russel’) came up behind him and moved to take his hand before pausing abruptly. Nico made no move to finish the gesture so they simply moved back down the stairs.

When they walked into the infirmary they were led to a bed and told to wait. The infirmary was big, pretty much everything was on wheels, the walls were painted plain white, the floors were tiled, and there were a bunch of huge bright lights suspended on the ceiling. Somehow though, it still felt warm and comforting. The light was warm and gentle, the curtains separating them beds had patterns of things like flowers around sheep. There were even photos on the walls. There were photos of people, and monsters, sitting in the infirmary holding up papers and smiling. And above all of them was a line of photos, showing groups of people. When he looked closer he saw that many of the people were in multiple photos, noticeably older from one to another.

“Excuse me,” he was brought out of his thoughts by a tapping on his shoulder.

The girl in front of him looked at Tiger Guy, “He new?”

The guy nodded.

Her voice was sharp, firm and slightly snappy, but, a lot like the infirmary, somehow managed to not sound mean.

Her most striking feature was her hair. It was super long and pitch black, to her back even in a braid. Her eyes were light brown and her skin was bronzy, like she belonged outdoors in the sun.

“My names Clia,” she said.

“Nico,” he shook her hand.

She started looking over the injuries he'd gotten over the past few weeks. Alabaster had done his best, but even Nico knew the makeshift attempts with limited resources wasn't ideal.

She cleaned out and bandaged the wounds as easily as a heart beats. Then, she paused and looked up past him.

“Hi Mel.”

Tiger Guy looked in that direction and scowled, well, scowled more.

Stalking along the wall was a girl with dark curly, chin length hair and brown skin like polished wood. She had big black eyes framed by deep red glasses. She looked a bit like the girl who had hung around in the shadows, Wren she'd been called. This girl had that same suspenseful air about her.

“What are you doing here?” Tiger Guy demanded.

“Seeing my friend?” She raised her eyebrow, like he was being unreasonable and she couldn't figure out why. In short, she did a really good job of making him look stupid.

Nico just caught Clia rolling her eyes before Russel turned around and she shrugged.

He didn't know what to make of them. It felt like he'd just walked in on a long term argument and had no clue of the backstory.

Before he could comment on anything though, the girl came up to him. “I'm assuming you're new?”

The full weight of her attention barring down on him was a lot. He just nodded and introduced himself.

“I'm Mel,” she said, “Daughter of Anake, goddess of inevitability. Welcome to Mount Othrys.''

Clia continued to dress Nico's wounds, and when she was finished she got out a pen and clipboard. She went through what she said was a regular check up you would get at the doctor, but most of what she did felt totally foreign to Nico. He wasn't quite sure what a visit to the doctor should look like, but this felt weird. And then she asked him when he last went to the doctor.

He frowned, “uh…I…I'm not sure”

“Okay, well when's the last time you remember going?”

He thought for a while, then shrugged.

She looked at him with a worried expression.

“Have you been to the doctor before?”

“Yes!,” he insisted.

“Okay… when?” She sounded like she was trying to be nice, but didn't understand what he was on about. Which was fair, he didn't either.

“Uh…” He trailed off, he was sure he had been, but when he tried to remember anything beyond that he came up blank.

They continued back and forth for a while longer. She asked him more stuff, about ‘vaccinations’ or something. They got nowhere, Nico wasn't trying to be unhelpful but he just couldn't remember. Like reaching for something, only to find out it was no longer there.

-+-

Alabaster had no idea what Aron was playing at. He'd glanced at him for a second which was maybe supposed to communicate something? All he knew was that Nico had been taken away, by Russel.

He waited until Nico was out of earshot before facing Aron.

“Russel?” He put as much anger in his voice as he dared.

Aron raised his hands slightly, probably on instinct. “It's okay-”

“Mel's got it “ Wren interrupted shortly.

“Two birds, one stone.” Felix chimed in.

“Three birds.” Wren corrected, and then she opened the door to the nearest meeting room. Alabaster considered her words.

Russel was always a problem. When they sent him the triumvirate had claimed it was as a liaison, but everyone with half a brain knew he was their little spy. It also didn't help that he appealed to Kronos’ more… sadistic side, of course making him a favourite of the Titan Lord to rival Luke. Or surpass him if you believed the rumours.

Nico obviously couldn't be here for this. As weird as it felt to be without the boy after the past few weeks, Alabaster had seen his penchant for infodumping first hand. It didn't help that the wider Titan Army had higher rates of ADHD than a ‘Gifted and Talented’ program, news travelled like thunder and reached Titan ears like lightning.

And Mel…wasn't a problem per say. The kid just had an eavesdropping problem and a tight bond with Wren. They were sisters after all.

Aron flipped the light switch and the room was bathed in a warm light. There was a long table in it, twin sets of wheeled white boards and markers, and someone had even placed a shoe rack in there. There was a large window at the back wall looking out into the grey sky. Alabaster liked meeting room 3, it was simple, adaptable.

Wren sat at the place closest to the door, Aron and Felix sat opposite her, which left Alabaster to either sit at the end, or next to Wren. He chose the end.

For a moment, the presence of all three of them barred down on him. On paper he was equal with them, all leaders in their various groups, but that meant nothing, really they were the ones in charge, directly under Luke himself. They were what the rest of the Army had affectionately nicknamed ‘The Inner Circle’. They were some of the earliest, and more importantly most trusted people in the entire operation.

He never quite knew where he stood with them. Hell he'd grown up with Aron as the de-facto leader of the non-Olympian kids. It was weird whenever they had a friendly moment and weird when he acted like a subordinate. And in such a formal setting, with all of them there except…

“Where's Luke?” He wondered out loud.

“He's… occupied.” Which was Aron 's avoidant way of saying Like was passed out in his room communing with an ancient Lord of Time, or worse. Since Thalia's failure to fulfil the prophecy Kronos had been much bolder in his influences.

“So,” Felix cleared his throat, “you find anything?”

“Right,” and with that Alabaster launched into his report. He told them as much as he had, which wasn't much. When he noted Minos’ presence in the labyrinth Felix frowned, but they moved on quickly. All of the Inner Circle listened attentively, occasionally asking questions or taking notes. When he was finished Aron was the first to rise.

“We'll talk about this tomorrow, strategy meeting after lunch,” then he added, “same room.”

Wren frowned, “I have a thing.”

“Move it,” Aron insisted.

“It's not the sort of thing-” She started.

“The sooner we get this done the sooner we can get moving. He's getting impatient.”

She didn't have a retort for that. None of them did.

Alabaster left the room and started his climb down the stairs, Felix followed him.

“Got a spar session with Clia after her shift,” he explained, then he laughed. “Maybe our kids’ll be friends.”

“Maybe they already are.” Nico might actually get on with Felix, he was a legacy of Mercury but he lent more towards the god's psychopomp aspect. Then he fully processed the words, “Nico's not ‘my kid’, I just brought him in.”

Felix raised an eyebrow playfully, “whatever you say.”

When they opened the doors it turned out Felix wasn't far off, because Alabaster got about 3 seconds before Clia pounced on him. Hands on hips.

At first glance she didn't look anything like Felix, or Aron aside from her inky braid. Which made sense because they weren't really related. She currently wore a bandana to hide the blond roots peaking through the dye in her hair. But you could see them in the way her shoulders squared when dealing with stubborn patients, like Felix going into battle. You could see Aron in her whenever she paused mid situation to take exactly 5 deep breaths, just like when he got tired of wrangling teenagers after a long day, and was one incident away from starting tomorrow's morning exercise 2 hours early.

“Nico doesn't have his vaccinations.” She was around two years older than Nico, though often couldn't meet the expectations that came with it. Here though, she was in her element and it showed. She held herself with complete certainty.

The confidence made Alabaster smile. He knew how reserved she'd been when Aron and Felix had first brought her aboard the Andromeda.

“He doesn't,” Alabaster frowned, that definitely wasn't good.

She shook her head, walking as she talked towards one of the beds containing Nico, an annoyed looking Russel, and Mel staring in a slightly creepy manner. He always thought she looked a bit like an owl, staring at you and hardly ever blinking.

“Who was his guardian before the camp?”

“I don't know,” Alabaster paused his stride and lowered his voice. “He had a sister, but I don't think he's had a real guardian in a long time.”

“Well I've passed the message to get someone to look into it. We'll work on it,” She assured.

“You mean someone else will work on it,” Felix corrected. “You're done for the day, and you don't run this place yet.”

Clia rolled her eyes. Then had to move very quickly to the side as Russel came thundering up to them.

He started, “You've got some nerve pulling that sh-”

Clia cut him off with a violent glare. Felix took the opportunity to put on his best innocent act.

“What?” His face went blank when he looked at Russel.

Alabaster just shrugged nonchalantly, “I just got back. You might wanna take this up with someone else.”

Russel looked between the two of them, then stormed out. Presumably to go whine to someone else.

“Nice,” Felix smiled at him, and Alabaster couldn't help but smile back.

“That brawn over brains act works way too well,” Alabaster muttered.

“Can Mel come sparring with us?” Clia asked.

Felix shrugged, “if she's free.” Then, he looked to Alabaster saying, “you guys free?” As if to invite him along.

Her felt his simile widen, then he raised his voice and said, “sure. As long as Nico doesn't mind visiting the lab for the first time tomorrow.”

The boy shot out the bed quicker than an arrow from Eros’ bow.

“No!” He insisted, practically hopping from one foot to another. “Let's go now!”

-+-

That evening Nico went to bed excited, and Alabaster relieved. Wren didn't go to bed, so neither did Mel.

They met instead in the part of the basement level secured for Wren’s operatives; the spies. Most people didn't go near the place if they could avoid it, but this was Mel's home. She knew the differences between the bare brick corridors better than she knew her own room. She knew where the cameras were, and which areas her sister's trainees practiced bugging. Which walls had secret doors and which held dead ends. And she knew the office she now found herself in best of all.

Her sister had a yellow paper file open on her desk. Thin, only a few pages - 5 at most -, mostly handwritten.

She sighed, “Torrington’s kid, what do you have?”

“He's weird,” she said, thinking through every word they'd exchanged. “Clearly traumatised, more than most anyway. Bad memory, stupid bad. Either that or he's lying but I don't think he had the foresight to. Could be tampering. he barely remembers anything before the last year.” Nice though she thought, she could imagine him being just some innocent kid quite easily in another life. Perhaps too easily.

Wren jotted something down, “any idea of godly parent?”

Mel shrugged half-heartedly, “Torrington would know if it was his mom by now. Feels underworldly though… Melinoë?”

Wren just raised her eyebrow. “That's a guess. You know better.” So it wasn't a test, she didn't know either. Her sister looked over the file in front of her one last time. “I have an assignment for you.”

Mel stood up straighter.

“You investigate this kid. Find out everything you can, past, godly parent, everything. Use every resource available to you, tell no one.”

Mel nodded, and her sister handed her the file.

“Any reason why?” She asked hollowly.

“Just a hunch.”

And when it came to Wren, a hunch was more than enough.

Chapter Text

The main lab was huge, and had all the tools you could think to want. There was a row of tables equipped with rubber mats and bunsen burners. There was a door to the store room which held containers of herbs, bottles of oils, and canisters of chemicals. There was a rack for works-in-progress, and a bookshelf so tall you needed a ladder to reach the top. Everything from mortal textbooks to original copies of spells from centuries ago were held in that mahogany.

Nico looked around with a wonder-filled expression.

“This place is so cool.”

Alabaster couldn’t help but smile with pride, he loved the lab. It was a testament to his siblings' creativity and intelligence that they’d been able to accomplish so much in such a short time. Just a year ago, all they’d had to practise with was the clearing at Camp Half-Blood and a stack of fast decaying journals.

Suddenly a small something smashed into him from behind, a pair of arms wrapped around his legs.

“‘Baster!” A little girl's voice squeaked excitedly, “you’re back!”

Someone punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Welcome back, asshole,” the voice had a hollow, almost raspy, quality to it.

A laugh bubbled up from Alabaster’s throat, he picked the little girl up and swirled her around, she squealed and giggled. “I missed you guys,” he said.

After Shell settled down Alabaster tried to introduce her to Nico, but upon seeing him she darted behind the owner of the raspy voice; his sibling Briar.

“Is he one of mom’s?” They asked.

Alabaster shook his head, “undetermined,” it had been a while since he had said those words, they were still uncomfortable.

Nico introduced himself, Briar said hi with a smile that probably meant they intended to give Alabaster a headache very, very soon. Shell stayed firmly behind Briar, Alabaster lent down and whispered in her ear.

“You know… Nico likes necromancy.”

Her eyes lit up and she looked to the boy hesitantly, “I do necromancy.” her voice was small and soft, and she held out her hand. “Wanna see?”

Nico nodded, and the two went off, probably to see the little girl’s collection of bones. She used them to summon spirits. They were mostly animals, a squirrel thigh bone, a fox skull, a chicken leg bone (she’d saved it from dinner, making Alabaster and Briar very glad Camp Half-Blood used free-range chicken), and the skull of a very unfortunate camper. He had strayed too far into the woods alone and now had to spend his days socialising with a 9-year-old. A clear demonstration of the God's carelessness.

The others were probably around somewhere, working on their various projects, Alabaster coming and going wasn’t an uncommon thing for them. He took a moment to glance at the badge on Briar’s jacket, he/him today.

“Nico probably won’t stick around here long anyway, he’s just clinging to me because I’m the only one he knows.” Alabaster elected not to mention Nico’s extreme hesitance to come in the first place. The conversation would inevitably lead back to that stupid Camp, and neither of them needed to think about the events that took place there right now.

“But isn’t he your-” Briar started.

“No!” Alabaster hissed, “Who told you that?”

His sibling smirked, “Rumours fly Al.” It also didn’t help that he had a keen interest in them, and went out of his way to know whatever piece of gossip was floating around the palace as quickly as possible.

“Anyway,” he leaned over and whispered, “how’re the projects going?”

Briar grinned in a slightly mad way that reminded Alabaster of Frankenstein (the doctor, not the monster).

“I made ink,” he whispered back.

“No way,” his foot started tapping with excitement. Briar was an excellent potion maker, the only one he would trust to make things for his serious projects. However, neither had dared to dream that they could get that particular recipe right for at least another year.

“It’s in the fridge,” he grinned.

Safe to say their conversation ended with Alabaster sprinting to his lab, a dozen chilled viles in his arms.

-+-

Alabaster had told Nico to get to bed early. Which was unfair because after he’d said that, he’d gone back to the lab to work on his cool secret projects.

So Nico had ignored this advice to look around his room. He hadn’t spent the night alone in an actual bedroom since the Lotus Hotel, and even then he and Bianca had adjoining rooms. This room was just until Nico got assigned a permanent room, which would probably have a roommate. It was plain but homey, which seemed to be an unexpected theme in Titan Army decor. There were a few books on the bedside table, Nico tried to read one of them but there were lots of weird words and trying to focus on them made his eyes feel tired. When the sky outside had been pitch black for quite some time, he didn’t stop his eyes from fluttering closed.

He regretted staying up so late when he was woken up by an annoying hissing sound.

“No more ssssssleep! Hope you had sssssssssweet dreamsssssss.” An electronic-sounding voice hissed, probably one of the snake ladies.

The recording played over and over until Nico found out the weird clock by his bed had a button to turn it off. He got ready quickly, then rushed out the door to get to the lab. There was a big wooden door he wanted to open.

He didn’t make it there though, because he got lost in the stupid confusing halls. When he asked for help (from a cyclops who looked friendly enough), he got dumped outside Alabaster’s door.

“Found your kid,” the cyclops - whose name was Nate - said with a yawn. “He got lost.” Then he went back down the hall.

“He’s not my-” Alabaster started calling down the hall, then sighed, “... never mind.”

“I wanted to go down to the lab,” Nico explained.

Alabaster gave him a weird look like he hadn’t understood, Nico repeated himself, and that seemed to do the trick.

“Right, well… we’re going down to breakfast first, and then Briar will unlock the lab.” He said the word ‘we’ like it was a foreign one, even though they’d been a team since the labyrinth.

“Fine.” It would have to do.

Luckily, he wasn’t the only one anxious to get into the lab. All the people at their table who had been in the lab the previous day seemed to be in a hurry. Briar, however, took time to make sure that everyone had eaten breakfast, before settling into a conversation with some others at the table.

“Does she always do that,” Nico complained to Shell, who had allowed him to sit next to her, kicking his feet back and forth on the bench.

“He.” She pointed to a badge on Briar’s jacket which had the words ‘he/him’ on it.

“What?”

“Briar’s a he,” She stated simply.

“She- uh, he is a boy?”

Briar didn’t look like a boy. He had long(ish) hair, and was wearing a skirt, and… sounded like a girl? Nico hadn’t really questioned his first assessment.

“He’s not a boy either really,” Shell said, as if that made any sense. “He’s just he sometimes, and not other times, like how the gods change form.”

It must be a demigod thing then. Nico decided to accept it and move on to more important things; like counting how many different types of fruit were in his cereal.

By the time breakfast was over Nico was considering just stealing the keys and making a run for it. When the lab was opened a bunch of people darted towards their projects and the few private labs. In mere minutes the lab was alive, gas taps being opened, beakers filled, he tried to follow Shell to where she kept her bones, or Alabaster, but both were gone.

Briar came up to him and gripped his wrist firmly, but not so tight as to be uncomfortable.

“Alabaster’s catching up with some projects so I’m overseeing the lab for now.” He let go of Nico’s hand. “He mentioned there seemed to be something specifically that you wanted to see?”

He pointed to the big wooden doors, “I wanna see what’s over there.”

“Oh, that’s the supply room, mostly potion ingredients in there.”

“Cool.” Nico wondered what kinds of things you used to make potions.

Briar looked happy at that, “I can take you in there, but we need to go over some ground rules.”

He went over some rules of the lab: don’t touch something if you don’t know what it does, don’t wear sandals, don’t break anything that can’t be replaced. The list went on for a bit. When he was done he went towards the doors and opened them, Nico ran after.

The storeroom was full of huge steel shelves packed with jars and tubs of oils and preserved things, neatly labelled and sorted. Herbs were dangling down in various stages of drying. It looked like a cross between a chemical closet and a grandmother’s kitchen.

He couldn’t help stopping to stare every few steps to stare at a jar or bottle, and ask Briar what it was, and what it did. Luckily, he seemed all too happy to indulge him, telling scientific names and folk names, and listing off three uses for most of them. When Nico was satisfied that he’d seen enough, both of them were beaming.

Before walking out, Briar asked him suddenly, “You wanna do some magic Nico?”

He almost jumped up, “Yes!”

Briar directed him to the right ingredients and equipment piled onto a table. He gave Nico a quick lecture on proper fire safety before lighting the fireplace and hanging a big cast iron pot above the orange flames.

“The specifics don’t matter too much for this potion,” he said while grinding some salt in mortar and pestle. “But it’s good to form the habits.”

They cut up and ground herbs. Briar showed him how to prepare each ingredient, when to add it, and how to stir. He helped Nico get the right rhythm for the simple chanting.

“The word pronunciation isn’t that important, just focus on the rhythm.” A few minutes into the Latin though, he frowned a bit.

When they were done chanting, Nico asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just never heard someone speak the Latin like that first time. Good news is you got the rhythm well. That’ll do you good for vocal spells. Anyway,” he shook his head. “What’s your favourite colour? Don’t say orange.”

It took Nico a second to consider it. A while ago he might have said green like Bianca, which always annoyed her, but that didn’t feel right anymore.

“Black.” He settled on.

Briar grabbed a jar of black powder from a nearby shelf.

“Three scoops,” he directed. Nico obliged.

The liquid turned inky black and they cut the heat. When it cooled enough they poured it into two glass bottles, it had a thick consistency, like that of olive oil.

Nico picked up one of the jars, “Um, what does it do?”

Briar grinned and took out a box of matches. He dipped one into the potion before striking it, as the fire bloomed, it burned black.

Briar handed the match to him, and he stared into the flame until the match burned to his fingertips.

A knock echoed through the room. The door creaked open.

“Come in!” Briar called.

Two people shuffled in. One with dark curly hair and deep red glasses, lurking behind the other, half in the shadows. The other with long black hair tied up with a bandanna. Clia and Mel, the girls from the infirmary.

“Hi, uh, we were wondering if, uh.” At the sight of him, the words Clia had been planning shrivelled up and died before they even reached her lips. She and Mel just looked at him and Briar with panicked expressions.

The latter smiled like this was all incredibly amusing to him. “You here for Nico?”

“Yes.” Mel sounded relieved to be saved from the awkward silence. She looked at Nico, “We’ve both got a few hours and we were gonna… hang out.” She said in a way that sounded like the words were unfamiliar, and even painful, to her.

But when it was his turn to respond, he understood the stammering.

“Um… sure?”

This seemed like the straw which broke the camel’s back for Briar, who burst out into laughter.

“You guys are so cute,” He said, leaning on the table for support.

“Hey!” Clia complained, “You’re barely older than we are!”

“Oh, but I am so much wiser in the ways of this world young one.” He turned to Nico and corked the potion bottles. “These’ll turn anything black for a limited period of time. The more you use, the longer it’ll last.” He handed them to him, “Now, I’m trusting you to cause great chaos with these in a way that’ll give Alabaster a headache when he gets out of his special interest-induced hyperfocus. Understand?”

Nico nodded.

He smiled and ruffled his hair, “great.”

Then proceeded to push the trio out the door.

“What are those?” Clia pointed to the bottles.

“A magic potion, they turn stuff black,” Nico tried to sound like he knew what he was talking about.

“Hecate kids teaching you magic then?” Clia asked.

“I guess.” He shrugged, it was weird to hang out with kids his age -well, sort of his age - he had no idea why they even wanted to hang out with him.

As if reading his mind, Clia said, “Mel wanted to invite you. And she hates everyone so I didn’t question it.”

“I do not hate everyone.” Mel crossed her arms, though it didn’t slow her walking pace at all.

Clia raised an eyebrow, “I’m your only friend.”

“You are not! I have… other people I like,” She shook her head. “Anyway,” She tried to make eye contact with him, which just felt weird. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t think anyone here had, and if they had he certainly hadn’t noticed. “You interest me.”

Clia knocked shoulders with him and show-whispered, “Congrats, that’s the closest she gets to friendship.”

“Oh screw you!” Mel quickened her pace, turning down a corridor that, now that he was taking note, Nico didn’t think he’d been down yet.

“Where are we going?”

“The roof.” Mel called over her shoulder.

“The guards let us sit up there sometimes if it’s a slow enough day,” Clia explained as they started up a flight of stairs. “It’s great, the gardens are below and you can see out for miles.”

They came out into the billowing wind. The roof, much like the other parts of Mount Othrys’ exterior, mimicked the top of a mountain perfectly. It had the rock-like texture, and low shape, but from this angle one could see the trench-like loop carved near the edge of it. The edges of the roof itself were blurry, like they were surrounded by low hanging clouds, except you could see the surrounding area completely clearly. There were maybe five people on the roof, scanning the area around the place.

They didn’t sound too happy about the trio being there, one of them muttering something about the roof being a vulnerable point, but they still let them stay. They also said something about their enemies being able to fly. Which made no sense, Percy couldn’t fly, could he?

They walked to a spot overlooking the garden, a patch of green full of blooming flowers, fruits, and vegetables. In the afternoon light, it looked peaceful and comforting. In the chilly breeze, the leaves of the plants rippled like the surface of a clear pond.

“They grow stuff to supplement the food delivered for the mess hall,” Mel sat down on the edge of the trench.

“Shouldn’t it need a greenhouse or something?” Nico asked, the weather was getting warmer but surely it was too early to have a garden, a mini farm really, bearing fruit.

“Nature magic,” Mel said. “Some people in the Army have a talent for it. Even leaches into the surrounding area.” She pointed to the edges of the garden, and sure enough the wild flowers and eucalyptus on the edges of the garden were a little brighter and healthy looking.

“It’s like the… the…” Clia frowned, “what’re those goat people?”

“Satyrs,” Nico and Mel answered in unionison, then looked at each other in surprise.

Mel fixed him with that intense, forbidden gaze she and her sister had. “You were a camper, right?”

He nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure he’d told her. Maybe she’d picked it up from hearing his check-up yesterday? “Were you?”

Clia made a face like he’d killed her cousin, she said, “Don’t go around asking people that. A lot of people are and they don’t like to talk about it.”

“I wasn’t though,” Mel clarified, “I came here with my sister. Luke took us off the streets.”

“Oh. So it was just you two?”

She nodded, then said quietly, “We ran away from home.”

The way she looked over the garden, eyes glassy like they weren’t taking in what they were seeing. The way Clia held her hand gently, Nico got the impression this was a very sensitive topic.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he tried, “Before I was at Camp I was at a school with my sister. She joined The Hunters of Artemis and died on a quest.” He had never told anyone all of it at once. When he said them, the words sounded scathing, bitter almost, was he bitter?

Mel paused for a moment, before giving him a firm nod. It wasn’t much, but it was still comforting; there was no pity, just understanding.

Before he knew it he was saying, “She was the only one who was there for a long time. She took care of us at the school, and the hotel, we stayed there for a bit,” he explained. “After our parents…”

He hadn’t told anyone that, not even Alabaster (though he was pretty sure he had guessed already), even with Bianca there was - there had been - an unspoken understanding that they didn’t talk about their parents. But it didn’t feel wrong to say here, it didn’t feel like anyone would look at him weirdly.

He didn’t notice Clia had moved until her hand brushed over his. He couldn’t do anything but stare out at the garden, at the trees that had been coaxed into defying the rules of Persephone’s departure to feed the Titan Army.

When she spoke, she did so softly enough that it could’ve been the echoing of the wind.

“There was once a child.” She said, “Her father was a god, used for his divinity to create her. Her mother cared only for that divinity, about shaping it for her purposes. The child knew little of love and less of living. Every moment a manipulation in someone else's game.

"Then one day that all changed, and the child died because what she was could not exist when given personhood. And now there's me.” She paused, but before Nico could ask her anything she continued. “I'm not that child because if I was I would break under the burdens she was made to bear. But there's me, and I carry her memory."

None of them spoke, the silence itself seemed sacred. Nico didn’t fully understand what Clia had meant, but the way Mel looked at her told him it was important. It was like Briar, it didn’t need to make sense for him.

Mel broke the silence with a sigh, and got up.

“Enough of that,” she said shakily, “Let’s see what around here needs an inconvenient colour change.”

-+-

Alabaster sighed as his timer ran out. He put down his pen and forced himself to close the notebook before him. He didn’t want to be pulled away from his work so soon, he had been away from his experiments for far too long. It would cause trouble if he missed this meeting though, he was trying to gain respect.

He started packing the papers and diagrams he might need into his bag for the meeting. He got so caught up in the task he didn’t notice the door creak open.

“Uh…” Someone was behind him.

Alabaster jumped, and spun around with a hand near the fire rune scrawled on the hem of his jacket. Then he realised who it was and felt embarrassment rise in his chest, he just hoped the heat he felt on his face didn’t mean it was red.

“Good to know reflex training is paying off,” the familiar voice quipped. It had pale blue eyes that always looked tired these days but still held that mischievous spark in them. They crinkled in amusement, warping the scar on his cheek. At least there was no trace of gold.

Alabaster found his eyes bouncing around the room uncomfortably like rubber balls. “Sorry, I was just caught up.”

“It’s okay. I just wanted to see you before the meeting, sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you yesterday.”

Alabaster waved him off, he was glad Luke hadn’t been there in whatever state he would have been in. He was trying to make sure Nico didn’t get scared off.

“How was the labyrinth?” Luke asked, as if beginning up the writhing tunnels of brick and mortal terror was a perfect way to small talk.

“Creepy, annoying, the usual.” He sorted though some papers. “Nico though… he uh… he saw Ethan.”

Luke stilled, “in there? At camp?”

Alabaster shook his head, “outside, he left camp.”

“That’s… that’s great Al.” Luke had been there when they were kids, he knew that Ethan had been the only person he trusted completely outside of his siblings.

“Anyway,” Alabaster shook his head, trying to get memories of a long decayed past out of his head, “I should be able to go back in after a month or so.”

Luke nodded, but it didn’t seem like he was really listening.

“We were actually thinking about stopping the labyrinth missions for now,” he said.

“Well yeah,” It had been discussed for a long time, given they had a mortality rate even Krios and Atlas couldn’t ignore. “But I thought the Titans weren’t… in favour of that idea.”

Luke shifted uncomfortably, he liked to think he had full control of what happened at Othyrs. But you couldn’t spend much time in the demigod world and seriously believe things could be that simple for long.

“We’ve agreed that you’re more useful here.” Which likely meant he’d foolishly traded something else away that would come back to bite them. “Everything we’ve worked for is so close… we need people we can trust, I need people I can trust.”

Alabaster stopped packing. He had known Luke for a long time, but never thought the older boy had noticed him over anyone else. Sure he came by to talk a lot, and had asked Alabaster on the labyrinth mission personally - but there were others, with more experience, and sway; and power. Luke seemed almost desperate though, like he really couldn’t trust anyone. Maybe he was just trying to let Alabaster down gently.

“Okay,” he tried to take a subtle breath and continue like nothing had happened.

“What are you working on?” There was the Luke he knew, trying to show interest in everything and get everyone to talk to him. No matter how far he’d come.

“Right now I’m getting ready for the meeting, but Briar finally got the recipe for this ink right, so now I can start experimenting with it.” Alabaster’s pace quickened, magic was his special interest. Once he got going it was sometimes hard to stop. Especially regarding the more technical and theoretical aspects, most people only cared about what magic did, few spared thought to how it did it.

These kings of spells would never be allowed at Camp Half-Blood. He could just picture Chiron and Mr D shutting the project down as ‘Dark Magic’, what a load of rubbish. Now their close-mindedness would be their undoing. In the Titan Army, he had the freedom, and the resources, to explore whatever he wanted.

“I have to go to my room before lunch,” He grabbed his bag, moved towards the door, and gestured for Luke to leave. “I’ll see you at the meeting.”

“Yes.” Luke resumed his ‘commander stance’, “see you.”

Alabaster locked the door behind him.

Othrys’ halls were confusing, full of twisting passages and out-of-the-way offices. Alabaster had a small room close to the lab. Some people had roommates, but he couldn’t handle being with another person after a long day.

He opened the door and gathered his things. Then paused, and looked at the pictures taped to his wall, he’d found himself doing so excessively in the past two days. Most had Ethan in them, in all of them he was young and carefree looking, skin tanned from Camp Half-Blood’s eternal summer. Alabaster had changed so much since those photos, he wondered how much Ethan had. Based on Nico’s account Alabaster could guess Ethan had been away from Camp for a long time, how much of him was the same? How much of either of them?

What if, in some future where they met again, they couldn’t even recognise each other?

What if his friend was gone forever? He would never see those eyes again, down for everything and anything. He would never hear that laugh echoing through the forest. He would never feel his touch, the brush of his hands. The touch of his lips.

-+-

The morning after receiving her mission, Mel had asked to visit Camp Half-Blood. Wren had made the arrangements, Mel would go with a truck picking up new recruits. She herself would not come with.

This was probably a good thing. Though the Camp’s resident spymaster Selina Beauregard was fond of Mel, treating her much like a younger camper, she would not be very helpful if Wren pissed her off. The two did not get along, her sister saw Selina as a disloyal security risk, and Selina saw Wren as a coldhearted bitch.

Besides, this was Mel’s mission, another chance for her to prove she was ready for bigger things. She was the most thoroughly trained spy under Wren’s command. She was ready for bigger assignments than spying on the occasional new recruit or collecting information from the archives. She could easily take on the likes of Jason Grace and Reyna Ramírez-Arellano, and this would be the assignment to let Wren see that.

Mel entered the camp from the woods, an unwise strategy for most campers, but by far the safest for a Titan Army member to avoid detection. Selina stood in the clearing she usually met Wren in, when she registered Mel, she smiled.

“Hey Mel,” She waved a hand painted with glittery nail polish, “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” She answered absentmindedly, pulling out a pen and paper pad. “There’s a new recruit I need information on, he was here a few months ago.”

“Straight to business,” Selina sighed, “What’s his name?”

“Nico di Angelo, he ran away after the death of his sister.” She had been mentioned in the files from the last big Greek quest, he was in a footnote.

“Oh yeah, I think I remember him. Percy and Thalia brought him and his sister from some boarding school. There was a monster attack, chimaera or manticore or something, she joined the Hunters.” Selina made a face of disgust, “He came here after that. He was sweet, obsessed with that mythology game.” She looked at Mel’s face and decided to elaborate, “You can ask one of the younger kids about it. Some of them use it to learn their monsters and gods.”

Training on a card game sounded a better alternative to reciting the Iliad until you memorised it.

There was rustling near the bushes to their left. Maybe someone there.

“He was a bit weird though,” Selina continued, “very… out of touch. Conner said he didn’t even recognise a cell phone.”

Mel jotted down information furiously, most of it matched both the records and Mel’s first-hand experience with Nico. “Do you know where he was before the boarding school? How long was he there?”

A slight crunch came from the left, poorly matched to the swirling of the wind in an attempt to avoid detection.

Selina shook her head, “I can try to find out for you, I’ll send over anything I find.”

Mel nodded, “Thanks.”

The crunching moved towards her. A round face with golden blonde hair and rosy cheeks popped out of the bushes.

“Mel!”

“Hey Will,” Mel sighed. Selina had probably told him she’d be here today in an attempt at fueling their ‘friendship’. Stupid sentimental Aphrodite kids. “I’m here on business.” She complained.

“We were just about done for the day, weren’t we though?” Selina didn’t even try to hide it, she just smiled mischievously. Making Mel remember it was Luke who had gotten her mixed up with the Titan Army in the first place.

“No,” She tried half-heartedly, “I have more questions, and I have to go over my notes. I might have missed something.”

“I can just take a look and write some stuff out.” Selina moved to take the paper out of her hands, being unnecessarily gentile the whole time. “If you have any questions you can just ask me later, you won’t be leaving until at least tonight, right?”

“She’s right, she’ll still be here later,” Will argued, “You haven’t come by in ages.”

“It’s only been a few months-”

“Months,” he grabbed her hand, “Let’s go!”

He practically dragged her out of the clearing with a ludicrous excitement. She sighed and decided it would be better to go along - and she could only ignore her own excitement for so long.

Will wasn’t technically Titan Army, and certainly not a spy. But he’d been close with many of the campers who had left, being in the Hermes cabin himself until recently. He’d taken to following Selina around as a joke, and after being a little too well hidden he’d accidentally discovered her as the elusive spy. She had been completely opposed to the idea of letting Wren deal with him. Instead, making him swear not to tell anyone, and swore herself to keep a close eye on him. He saw Mel as some cool, secret friend, which was just fine with her she supposed.

They passed the Hermes cabin, and suddenly there were more and more people milling about. Mel put the hood of her jacket up, despite the relative warmth. She knew it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be recognised as an outsider, compared to her usual grounds of Camp Jupiter the security here was pitiful. The Hermes cabin was so overstuffed, and people came and went so frequently that no one noticed an extra camper; or a missing one.

“So,” Mel increased her pace so she could walk side by side with Will, “what have you been up to?” That was how you small talked right?

“I’ve spent a ton of time in the infirmary, Lee taught me how to dress an arrow wound! And I learnt a bunch of new songs- oh!” He abruptly changed direction, “can I show you?”

“Okay,” she sighed, Will’s music was nice, she never really got to hear live music. She was usually too busy to sit around at the occasional performances sometimes put on in the mess hall. And they always made Clia sad because she wasn’t any good at music.

Will led her to a cabin that looked like it had been dipped in a Roman’s armoury, his cabin. They went round the back and he went in alone and came out quickly with a guitar. They sat down on some rocks behind the cabin.

“Everyone’s either in the infirmary or prepping for sing-along,” he assured. He took a few seconds to get the guitar in the right position, before plucking the strings, adjusting his fingers, and taking a breath.

His fingers struck the strings in quick succession, the sounds of each melded together to form one sound. He moved his fingers and struck the strings again, and again. Soon he got into a rhythm, a warrior melding to the ebb and flow of a battle. Soon the sounds melded together, and then all of a sudden, it was a song.

It wasn’t like the recorded songs you played, it had slight pauses and variations in volume. It had a richness to it that was comforting.

By the time Will set the guitar down they were both smiling and laughing like a pair of idiots. When Will got up to put the guitar away he grabbed her arm.

“Come inside, you can try out an instrument.”

“Fine.”

The inside of the cabin was thankfully less eye-melting. However, Will being slowly driven insane by his own cabin would be an explanation for why he was so weird.

She could just picture Clia saying ‘Actually we’re probably the weird ones.’ Ugh.

Against one wall was a collection of instruments, most of which she didn’t recognise. Will put the guitar back in its place and then turned to her.

“Which one do you wanna try?”

“Uh… I’m not sure,” she looked at all the instruments. Her mom was known for having a spindle, so maybe she’d be better off trying an instrument with strings. She pointed to a small instrument hung up on the wall.

“That one I guess.”

“That’s a lyre. I think I can help with that one.” They took the lyre off the wall and they sat down.

Will didn’t seem to know all that much about playing the lyre, but he still tried to help. Maybe he had some sixth sense because the lyre was a symbol of Apollo. They had fun anyway, she actually managed to carry a tune for a few moments. She found playing music was nice, she could get lost in the sound, just sitting there making noise.

Chapter Text

Over the next few months, Alabaster proved to be dead wrong. Nico came down to the lab after breakfast at the inner circle table with Mel and Clia, who seemed to have adopted him as one of their own. Alabaster even joined them some mornings, something they weren’t even annoyed with, because Nico didn't grow bored of him at all. They stayed close, maybe even getting closer as Nico gained an interest in magic with an intensity to rival his. Which made him fit into the family even better.

Due to this, the boy made quick progress. Having a clear gift for necromancy from his still-mysterious godly parent, he was also great with Latin incantations, picking up the language with unusual ease even those a demigod. At first, they had thought it could be an indication of a godly parent, one that stayed similar between pantheons, Thanatos perhaps.

But the answer came clear when they got a supply shipment in. It was fancy stuff, still the way from Italy, meaning the manuals were in Italian.

While Briar struggled over an Italian-to-English dictionary Nico and Shell had snuck over to a corner with an instructional guide, escaping notice until they got to that box.

What followed was a frustratingly slow realisation which concluded with Briar asking:

“Nico, are you Italian?”

The boy paused for a moment, as he usually did whenever asked something about himself beyond recent realisations and basic information. Then nodded.

The main problem currently facing the Titan Army, however, was Chris Rodriguez.

He had been found outside the labyrinth by La Rue and taken to Camp. This had sparked heated debates among the leaders of the Titan Army.

“We can’t leave a soldier behind!” Aron had said after Selina’s report had reached the palace. “He chose to follow us, we have to take care of him!”

“He chose to follow us,” Wren said coolly. “The same way he chose to accept the labyrinth mission. He was told the risks.”

“We asked him to go!” Aron spat back.

Felix nodded, “That makes us liable. We stopped looking because we thought he was dead. If he’s alive then we have to save him.”

“He’s in enemy arms,” Alabaster added softly.

“Oh please,” Wren scoffed.

“You seriously think those campers can keep a hostage?” Russel laughed. Wren didn't look delighted that they were on the same side, but she was certainly intent on using the advantage.

It was weird Russel was even there, they weren’t in a proper meeting anymore. The inner circle had just taken up a meeting room, inviting Alabaster along as they were doing more frequently post-meeting for some unknown reason. Nico liked to compare Russel to a tiger, Alabaster could see that. He was always prowling where you didn’t want him.

“At the very least he’s a security risk,” Felix tried.

“He’s gone mad,” Russel rolled his eyes.

Pretty much everyone had assumed a clear stance, either for the rescue of Chris, or against. Luke was the only one undecided, barely having said a thing the whole time. He just sat there, staring into space. He must be having a bad day with Kronos.

“If you’re saying he’s a safety problem,” Wren started, her tone unsettling as usual, “then why don’t we just get rid of the problem?”

No one spoke. Felix seemingly not knowing what to say. Aron far too angry for words.

But this only registered to Alabaster after he’d said, “That’s assassination. You’re talking about assassinating a fellow soldier, who is already traumatised, just because he might be a security risk?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Russel lent towards his face, too close for comfort. He spoke to Alabaster slowly, like he was spoon-feeding a toddler. “We’re in a war. That means people die. Think of it as a sacrifice.”

The tension held. Alabaster should’ve backed down, Russel might not have been Inner Circle but he was still dangerous. But all he felt was rage.

“Get. Out. Of my face.” his voice might have been echoing off the walls, he didn’t know. He wasn’t paying attention to his volume. “It’s bold of you to speak of sacrifice when all you do here is tell the rest of us how to do our jobs. Have you even been in the labyrinth? Do I need to get Nico in here to explain to you what it’s like? Or should we find someone more on your level of civility? A cyclops perhaps?”

He didn’t respond.

“If you want to murder an ally in cold blood, at least have the dignity to call it what it is. But I for one did not sign up to take down Olympus only to be no better when we get there.”

Russel sat down.

As the flood of emotions receded Alabaster didn’t find the shame he expected. Except for the cyclops comment, that was a bit uncalled for.

“Enough,” Luke’s voice echoed through the room. He sounded tired. Distant. It wasn’t unusual for these days but it felt so, so wrong on Luke. “No one is assassinating anyone.” Before either side could speak he had his hand up to silence them. “But… I… I don’t think I can convince the Titans to… to spend the resources.”

Chris was his brother, he had looked up to Luke even more than Alabaster had looked up to his older siblings. Even through his defeat and attempts to remain neutral, it must be destroying him to give up on his brother for a second time.

Aron nodded reluctantly. Russel tried to protest, but Wren hissed something in his ear, silencing him.

At the next day’s meeting, it was official, nothing would be done about Chris Rodriguez unless or until he posed an information risk.

-+-

Nico loved it at the Titan Army. Which had stopped feeling wrong to say now that nearly two months had passed. He had become real friends with Mel and Clia. Briar said he had a good brain for potions, he could remember all the ingredients and techniques even if that actual brewing often ended in trouble. Plus his and Shell’s combined necromancy was super powerful.

Which was why, on an appropriately ominous Sunday afternoon, Alabaster and Briar had sat the two of them down and dropped a giant book on the table in front of them.

A big dust cloud rose up, making everyone cough.

“Really Bri?” Alabaster said between coughs.

When he could open his eyes, Nico saw the book had a cover of waxed cloth an ashy purple colour, or maybe it had once been vibrant and had faded due to time. There were gold embossed designs decorating the spine and covers, the largest of which was above the title. He recognised the crossed flaming torches, a symbol of Hecate plastered all over the lab, but here it was different. The flames rose to form a set of teeth and gasping sockets. A skull. Signifying what? He didn’t know.

Shell read the title aloud, fumbling over the words, “Le Journel des Morts.”

Briar nodded, “The Journel of the Dead,” she translated with an air of gandeur. “Written in 1911 by two demigod daughters of Hecate, and Hades.”

“They compiled all their knowledge on necromancy in this book.” Alabaster continued, “To this day it’s still the most comprehensive and relevant book on necromancy created in the last two centuries.”

“Awesome,” Nico muttered, he loved how Alabaster spoke, never dumbing his words down to them just because he was younger. Even if he was a bit hard to understand somehow.

“Now,” He looked at both of them with his ‘this is serious’ expression. “Their work gives us a lot to go off but also leaves a lot out. That makes it dangerous, you two are the only half-bloods here who can do necromancy. As much as we,” Alabaster pointed to Briar and himself, “can help you, we’re also working partially off guesswork. This book can help you guys do more with your talents, but you absolutely have to be responsible with it. Do you understand?”

After getting a yes from both of them they dove into the book. Which was just as useful as Alabaster had made it sound. It had everything from summoning rituals to uses for different dead things, even notes on types of ghosts and offerings. They spent the whole rest of the day studying it, and Nico would have spent longer if Alabaster’s alarm didn’t go off and he insisted they go to bed.

Even then, Nico would have tried to squeeze more time for reading, but Briar threatened to not let them try any of the spells the next day, and Shell really wanted to make one of the charms they had read about.

He spent the whole of breakfast talking about the journal to Mel and Clia.

“There’s notes on ghosts!” he said excitedly, “And there’s all this stuff about summoning rituals, and I’ve been doing that stuff! Before I even knew about the journal, I did offerings, and my incantations are so similar to theirs! And-”

“Nico,” Alabaster put a hand gently on his shoulder. “As much as I understand your excitement, the point of sitting down for breakfast is to eat breakfast.”

“Okay,” he muttered.

He heard Luke at the other end of the table teasing, “Where have I heard that before?”

Followed by a muttering next to him of, “Shut up.”

In the lab, Briar helped him and Shell try a charm. It was supposed to help you find ghosts more easily. The book said that this would help the necromancer using it avoid having to summon spirits all the way from the Underworld, but Briar said not to worry about that.

“I think that part was written by the daughter of Hades,” She guessed. “It must have been easier for children of the Big Three to summon spirits from the Underworld. You two won’t be able to do that for a long time, don’t worry about it.”

Nico frowned at that, “But I already have.”

Briar looked at him with a puzzling expression, then seemed to come to a conclusion.

“That would have been in the labyrinth right?” They asked.

“Yeah...” he didn’t see what that had to do with it.

“So you were probably talking to ghosts connected to it. The labyrinth has super weird geography, and a lot of people have died in it,” they reasoned, “so it’s probably like an electromagnet for ghosts. To the point where there’s a thin line between it and summoning spirits.”

Nico was about to protest that, no, he had definitely summoned spirits from the Underworld, but Shell chimed in first.

“Can we get to the charm now?” She was getting frustrated, “Please?”

-+-

Mel’s assignment was going… well?

She had a file that was growing thicker by the day. Nico seemed to trust her completely after that first time on the roof. She was getting more and more context with each piece of information she gathered.

Because Nico was nice. She liked being around him the same way she liked being around Clia - and she supposed Will. It was fun to listen to him talking about whatever magical thing he was learning from Alabaster, and what he thought they might use it for later. It was fun when Clia quizzed them on mythology, to see who could name fifty monsters first or something. It was stupid, but it was fun, and she couldn’t say that about a lot of things.

So she did what she always did when faced with emotional conflict. She talked to Wren about it.

She didn’t say anything at first when Mel brought it up while spending time in her room together after breakfast one day, a rare moment of nothingness.

Her sister’s room surprised most people by being perfectly ordinary. She had a private room (which Mel might or might not sleep over in some nights) with a double bed full of plush pillows, many of them souvenirs from the Andromeda’s various docking points. The walls were full of photo frames, the Inner Circle, Mel, random stills taken from camcorder footage. Wren had stuck them all in ill-fitting frames and placed them on the walls. Clia often said they should get Wren a film camera.

They sat on her bed, Mel clinging to a pillow from San Diego like a little kid.

“You’ve done good work, a lot of it.” her sister started, appearing calm, but the swaying of her dangling foot had been a nervous tic for years. Even more easy to spot these days. “So I’m happy to let you finish here and just continue myself, or-”

“No.” Mel let go of the pillow instantly. “No, you don’t have to kick me off this. I can handle it!”

“I know you can handle it,” Wren replied instantly, “but if you don’t want to continue,” she sighed, “you don’t have to. You’re in this because you want to be.”

Mel shook her head frantically, she couldn’t lose this. “I’m so close. Between that next file, and… please. Don’t take this away from me.”

Wren sighed.

“Okay,” her leg stopped moving. “Be careful then, don’t let him get so mixed up in your personal life you can’t do what’s needed for the assignment.”

Mel nodded solemnly.

They went down to Wren’s office together. Mel had a small desk in there to work at; and observe. From its place in the corner of the poorly lit room, she could take note of all the people who entered, and report back later if needed.

The usual people came and went, messengers, Luke, returning spies and ones in training, and surprisingly, Russel.

The door creaked as Russel opened it and stepped in. “Hey Wren, how’re you-”

She cut him off, “What do you want?”

He gave a slight nod in Mel’s direction, maybe trying to be subtle about it.

“Don’t mind her,” Wren waved off, “she’s working.”

Mel had in fact stopped working the moment he came in.

“Whatever,” he muttered. “Alabaster’s kid, Nico, you got anything on him?”

Wren kept her expression uninterested and her tone neutral when she responded, “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. A poor attempt to make the inquiry seem casual. “Just, you know, wondering. Heard he was in the labyrinth by himself at one point.” Mel knew by his reaction to her bringing it up that he had most likely not been alone. “It just seems kinda suspicious don’t you think?”

Wren lied, “I have nothing of interest to you.”

Russel’s lips curled and his face scrunched up.

He leant closer to her, “What if it was just information shared between friends?”

“Then I certainly wouldn’t share it with you,” she scowled. That did make Mel smile.

Russel gripped her desk in frustration, “And what if I was ordering you?” He growled.

Wren took a breath, letting him seeth at her silence, before answering. “Then I would have to ask you, on whose orders?”

He glared at her before storming out, slamming the door behind him. How childish.

Wren turned to her for a moment and warned, “Be careful of him,” Before going back to her work.

So Mel went back to reviewing Nico’s file before she had to meet with him and Clia that afternoon.

She had enough evidence to confidently say Nico had some form of amnesia. He couldn’t recall anything distinct from before he and his sister had gone to their first boarding school. Whether it was magically or trauma induced though, she couldn’t be sure.

He definitely wasn’t a spy though. While both she and Wren had doubted Camp Half-Blood would be so bold as to use someone so young, it would have been irresponsible to rule out the possibility.

Nico was dead set on learning magic at the moment, so she couldn’t tell much about his actual powers. Talking to him about her powers would almost definitely inspire him to share more information, but such clear manipulation of him made her feel dirty for some reason. Besides, she didn’t want to show all her cards so easily.

It was the information continued in the photocopied papers which had been delivered to Wren’s office that morning though, that Mel was interested in.

She had managed to get the names of the two boarding schools and the hotel he and his sister had been to out of Nico. The most recent had yielded little results aside from the information of the lawyer who had been assigned to the di Angelos. Not particularly helpful as he and his firm had not been in charge of them for long. The other school’s records didn’t even have a mention of them from any years they could have attended.

The hotel though was interesting. There was no trace of it in the area Nico claimed it had been in. So she had requested any records there might be on a ‘Lotus Hotel and Casino’, leading the relevant sections of the file on none other than Percy Jackson’s first quest being delivered that morning.

The hotel was a modern version of the Isle of the Lotus Eater from the Odyssey. It was a trap for demigods. What felt to the victims like hours inside was days in the real world, while it cast some sort of spell that made them not want to leave. She had no idea how they could have gotten out without even knowing about the gods. Maybe Nico’s sister had broken through the magic somehow?

Regardless, Nico had said they spent a week there. She didn’t know what the exact time difference was but that must be years outside, maybe even a decade or two.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have much time to ponder the implications of this realisation before it was three o’clock and only an hour to go before she met with her friends. She packed her things and left the office without a word, heading for her room, and the lyre.

Over the past few months, she had continued trying to learn the lyre, even managing to rope in some demigods who knew what they were doing. She had quickly learnt her first song, finding she had an unexpected knack for music. Wren had never acknowledged her weekly activity, but almost certainly knew about it.

It was always a gamble on how she would react to such things. In the early days when Wren and Mel were new to Othrys, and the war was still in its infancy, she had encouraged Mel to find interests and hobbies. As things had become more complicated, and Mel had progressed in her training, her sister had needed her focus on various assignments. Sacrifices must be made, she supposed.

After finishing her practice, she met up with Clia and Nico in one of the common rooms. Nico showed off a finished charm to them, apparently the one he’d spoken about that morning.

“It only took me 3 hours to figure it out!” He grinned.

“So you summon ghosts with it?” Clia asked, examining it in his grip.

“Well I can summon them anyway,” he explained as they started walking towards the roof. “This just makes it easier. That reminds me..”

He told them about his interaction with Briar that morning.

“I’m sure I can do it,” he insisted. “I have done it before.”

Mel saw her opportunity.

She stopped walking and asked, “Why don’t you try then?”

Nico paused, frowning slightly, “We could I guess. I’d need to dig a pit though. And get a sacrifice, probably food and drink.”

“We could get that easily,” Clia jumped in.

“And we could dig a pit,” Mel continued. “Somewhere near here.” Clia would never agree to it if they went far. Already she looked uncomfortable with the idea.

Nico had got on board though, so they snuck juice and sandwiches away from the mess hall. They talked a guard into letting them out ‘for a walk’, or at least, Mel made sure he couldn’t go after them, or cry out. This earned a disapproving look from Clia, but Nico was none the wiser.

They didn’t go so far they could no longer see the palace, only until they found a patch of earth soft enough to dig at with bare hands. The tip of the palace watched over them silently like the mountaintop it wasn’t.

It did feel like they were being watched, but that was probably just the paranoia of rule-breaking. It was stupid, Mel reminded herself, Wren would inevitably find out in a week or so anyway. Not like she’d get in trouble, as long as it was for a mission it didn’t really matter.

In a few minutes, they had a pit, really more of a hole, that Nico declared good enough. Apparently though, they needed to wait until the sun started setting.

“It’s harder for spirits to form in the day,” Nico explained.

“We need to be quick though,” Mel warned, “It’s not a good idea to be out here long after dark.” She wanted to see if he could actually do what he claimed, but not at the expense of their lives.

Nico started chanting as soon as sunset hit, hoping that by the time he was done, it would be dark enough. It was Ancient Greek, something about freeing someone from Hades and presenting an offering. She struggled to make out most of it, meaning either it was some obscure old dialect, or she needed to brush up on her ancient language. Hopefully the first one.

At first, it didn’t seem to be doing much, but then there was a sudden drop in temperature. The air suddenly seemed a little colder, a little drier, it sent shivers up her spine. The sounds of the surrounding nature deadened. The world seemed to grow darker, but not like the sun was setting, more like someone had turned down the saturation on a photograph.

White smoke started pouring out of the pit, it smelled of rot and decay. Then the ghosts appeared.

Mel had never seen a ghost before. One part of her thought of floating sheets with cartoon eyes. The other part remembered stray lines from mythology books, about slain warriors with ‘wounds from bronze-tipped spears’ and ‘armour stained with blood.’ The second was perhaps a bit more accurate.

The ghosts first appeared on the periphery, blurry silver shades with indistinct faces. They called out, but the noise they made didn’t sound like a human crowd, Mel had been in those before. The noise of the spirits melded together into a low drowning sound, littered with yells of despair or pain, or something else she couldn’t recognise. It was the sound of people who had been desperate for a long time.

At first, none approached, but eventually, they came forward, focused completely on the pit. As two spirits drank from the pit their forms came into focus. The first was a young woman with ringlets of ashy blond hair and an old-fashioned dress, she might’ve been beautiful if it wasn’t for the dark blood stain on her chest and crowning a bullet hole. The second was an old man, hair all white, he didn’t show any clear indications of how he died but as he spoke his voice was raspy and strained.

The man spoke first, “Ah, some respite at last.” At first, it came out as Ancient Greek, before changing mid-sentence to English. It almost didn’t sound like a voice but more the howling of the wind or an echo in a deep cave.

“How do we know if it’s a ghost or a spirit from the Underworld?” Clia whispered.

“We ask.” Nico replied, before addressing the spirits and asking, “Where have you come from?”

It did seem like he had some experience with this, this was close to the most sure of himself Mel had ever seen Nico. He wasn’t just unafraid of the spirits, but the ritual seemed almost routine for him, natural impulse.

The woman answered him, “Lord, we came from the everlasting fields.”

“The punishment of all men who make nothing of themselves,” agreed the man.

“Asphodel?” Nico asked.

“Yes,” they replied.

“You did it,” Mel breathed, “You summoned spirits.”

Nico grinned, “I told you I could.”

“Couldn’t they be lying though?” Clia pointed out, something Mel should have considered a little harder.

The woman answered quickly, “Not to our lord.”

The man nodded.

“Lord?” Mel questioned, her mind started wiring, this wasn’t right.

The man nodded, “The boy carries the blood of our master.”

“The mighty jailer,” the women agreed. “He who rules Eurobus and oversees all us wretched spirits.”

“What?” Clia’s face scrunched up in confusion.

She’d heard that before. Mel had heard something like that before. Where?

Before she could think about it properly she heard Clia again, paniked, calling out, “Nico?”

Nico had gone stiff. Completely still, staring at another spirit that was emerging from the blurry crowd. It didn’t seem to be anything special, maybe a bit more distinct as it approached. Thin and bony looking, spiky hair that stuck up.

“Nico?” Mel leaned in front of him, she put a hand on his shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

That seemed to shake him out of it, or the fact that the spirit was nearly to the pit. He muttered something she couldn’t quite catch and started chanting again immediately, a mile a minute. All Mel managed to understand was that it was a banishing chant, a strongly worded one.

As suddenly as they had appeared the shades evaporated. The world warmed up again and crickets started chirping all at once. It was over. Not a moment too soon as well because it had gotten all too dark all too fast. Mel interrupted Clia trying to talk to Nico.

“We gotta go,” she pointed to the sky.

“Shit,” Clia agreed, “do you think we missed dinner?”

“We will if we keep standing here.”

So they had to practically run up the mountain, a feat that was much harder than Mel had anticipated. By the time they calmed down, Nico was already heading off, not listening to either of their calls.

Clia looked to Mel, “What do we do?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know.” The rational side of her brain kicked in quickly though, she had to get this under control fast. “Just… maybe we don’t say anything yet. At least not until we get a chance to talk to him.”

Clia nodded.

“I’ll go hide this stuff,” Mel volunteered, it would give her a chance to gather some thoughts. “See you at dinner.”

She got rid of the bag in a hurry before heading down to the basement.

The pieces started coming together immediately, and all of a sudden she felt stupid for not seeing it before. Nico who didn’t recognise anything from the modern world. Like he had been held in time. Nico who was good at necromancy, too good at necromancy. Whose skull was surpassing Shell’s despite having a fraction of her experience or knowledge. Whose powers were clearly chthonic, and seemed to put him on a level at least on par with her own. Nico who had survived the labyrinth all by himself like it was nothing.

‘The mighty jailer’, ‘he who rules Erebus’, Nico was a child of Hades. He was a Big Three kid, a prophecy child.

After dinner, Mel spent the hour and a half until Wren came back to her office putting the evidence in order, and looking over her copy of the Odyssey. It was a big claim to make and Wren would need more than the word of a ghost to believe the theory. But the information from the summoning tied everything together. Nico’s presence at the Lotus Hotel, why he had run away from Camp Half-Blood, why he seemed so good at magic despite only knowing about it for a few months.

Wren noticed Mel’s slightly unhinged state immediately. “What happened?”

“I’ve figured it out,” Mel said. “I’ve finished the assignment.”

Her sister closed the door and eyed her, “yes?”

Mel took a deep breath.

“Nico is a child of the Big Three. He’s a son of Hades.”

Wren stilled, she was quiet for a long time, then she looked at Mel.

“You think that Hades broke the oath as well?” She asked.

Mel shook her head, “He and his sister were at this hotel for a week before starting their second school,” she held up the file that had been delivered that morning. “But this hotel is a modern version of the Lotus Eaters from the Odyssey, ‘Those who eat the lotus fruit forget all thoughts of return.’” She paraphrased. “Time passes slower there than in the real world, Percy Jackson and his quest were there for a few hours and missed days. They stayed for a whole week, at first I thought it was a few years, but it’s more like eighty. Nico’s father didn’t have to break the oath.”

Wren didn’t look at her, too busy taking in the information. “That’s still not evidence for him being a big three kid.”

“I know. You remember this morning he was talking about that necromancy book? And how he was going to do stuff with Briar and Shell after breakfast?” She nodded. “Apparently Briar said someone of his level shouldn’t be able to summon spirits from the underworld, but he claimed he’d already done it. We went out to try and-”

“You left the palace?” Her sister asked.

“We didn’t go far.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

Mel paused, then said slowly, “no…”

Her sister sighed, “Continue.”

“He did it. He summoned three and contained them. And one of them said ‘he carries the blood of our master, the nightly jailer.’ That's Hades, book eleven of the Odyssey, ‘and she now resides with Hades, the nightly jailer.’”

Wren was quiet, and sighed, “You tell no one about this.” She ordered, “I mean it. And keep him, and Clia from connecting the dots.”

Mel nodded, even though it felt wrong to keep knowledge of someone's godly parent from them.

It didn't matter.

It didn't.

-+-

“‘Baster, can I talk to you?” Briar walked into his lab; shutting the door behind her.

Alabaster kept his eyes fixed on the whiteboard in front of him.

“One minute,” He muttered with a plastic pen cap between his teeth. He wrote a few more symbols on the board, followed by some Latin annotations. He paused, stepped back, then went to connect that one point to another.

“Okay,” Briar grabbed his jacket sleeve and wrenched the marker out of his hand. “That’s enough, you’ve got the whole day asshole.”

He huffed, but conceded, “What?” Then he noticed the expression on his sibling’s face. Her green eyes tracking every movement, her lips downturned, fingers writhing around each other uncomfortably. “What’s wrong?”

“People are saying… there’s this rumour…”

He prompted, “Yes?”

“People are saying Nico’s a child of the Big Three, that he’s a son of Hades,” she blurted out.

He frowned, “And you believe them? Where did they hear it? From who?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “that’s not how these things work Al.”

“Then it’s foundationless gossip,” he moved to take the pen back from her. She held on.

“I thought so too, at first.” She sighed, “But I mean, you have to admit he’s taken to the necromancy awfully fast. And the parts he’s getting, I mean, they’re probably the ones written by the daughter of Hades. He navigated the labyrinth all by himself after leaving Camp Half-Blood, Al, that’s months. You couldn’t even survive down there that long.”

Alabaster groaned. “We still don’t know how much time he really spent down there, and he did have help, from a judge of the dead. He’s good at necromancy because his parent is a chthonic deity, of which there are hundreds. People just don’t know them because they don’t get taught about them, so when one of their kids shows up they jump to conclusions!”

Briar didn’t look convinced, “You think so?”

“Yes,” he insisted, “Nico’s not anything more special than the rest of us. We both know he’s just a normal kid.”

She sighed, staring at the ceiling, racking her fingers through her hair. Eventually, she caved and handed him back the marker, “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he said firmly.

She walked out, “See you later then.”

He was sure. Nico was just a normal kid. He was nothing like a child of the Big Three. Like Luke’s Thalia, or, Titan’s forbid, Percy Jackson.

Only a minute or so later, someone opened the door. Loudly.

Alabaster threw his hands up, “will no one just let me work in peace?”

“Torrington.” Wren stood at the door of the lab, followed by Aron.

“The meeting isn’t for another while,” he wasn’t sure why they’d come to get him even if it wasn’t.

“We need to talk to you,” Aron’s face had lost all its usual humour. This was important.

“Is something wrong?” Briar asked from the doorway.

“No,” Wren answered immediately. Her tone was firm and unconcerned, but that meant absolutely nothing.

Alabaster looked around, “Should I get…” His stuff was everywhere, anything he might need was in here.

“No,” Aron sighed like he didn’t want to be here. “Just, come.”

They moved quickly, but it took little time for Alabaster to realise they had not taken any route that would lead them to the meeting rooms.

“Where are we going?” He asked, just as they darted into a tucked away corridor he hadn’t even known existed, followed by a dark, cramped, spiral staircase.

“Basement,” Wren said from behind him, where she’d somehow manoeuvred without his notice. For some reason, the idea of her being out of his sight still made him uncomfortable, even after they’d spent time together.

The basement was lit with fluorescent lights everywhere that made Alabaster’s eyes hurt, so he generally avoided going down. There wasn’t much there anyway, just some storerooms, cells, the parking lot and the main exit. The staircase, however, had deposited them in the espionage department.

He had only been here a few times, and never this deep in. He had no reason to, few did.

Aron opened the door to one of the rooms and slipped in. It had bare white walls, lit by a single fixture, occupied by a metal table and chairs.

He turned around to face the spymaster, “What is this?”

“Insurance,” she held a glinting steel dagger in each hand. “I would strongly suggest you cooperate.” Her complete attention weighted on him, her eyes tracking every twitch, tone firm and demanding. Her face still completely neutral.

Alabaster entered and sat, Wren locked the door behind him. The chair was cold, making him hiss in surprise. The light buzzed faintly above, his knee bobbed up and down rapidly. The rest of the inner circle was there, all stiff and tense.

“Did you have to be so… forceful?” Luke asked, also seated near the table. His voice was strained, eyes flecked with gold.

“I’m doing my job,” Wren said with a glance. Her focus had shifted, half still on Alabaster, half wisely trained on Luke and the Titan Lord floating to the surface of his mind like a bloated corpse.

She moved over to him, knives still out.

“What did you know about Nico di Angelo when you met him?”

“What?” Alabaster had prepared himself for a few questions, not this. Why would they want to know about Nico? What could possibly warrant such secrecy and harshness? “Wait,” he looked up to the whole inner circle. “Is this about that rumour?”

“It’s not a rumour,” Felix muttered. He might’ve intended it to be to himself but it had been just a little too loud for that.

Wren glared at him violently. Felix shrugged and she looked ready to punch him then and there, before seemingly thinking better of it and focusing on Alabaster again.

“No,” he muttered, “no that doesn’t make any sense. It’s just a rumour… It’s just a rumour. Nico’s not… he’s not like that- he’s not like them.”

But no one said anything. No one burst out laughing and shouted ‘Just kidding!’ All three gazes - Luke’s vacant stare did not count - were dead serious.

They wouldn’t be interrogating him like this right now, Wren wouldn’t be interrogating him like this right now, if they weren’t sure. There were many choice words Alabaster would and had used to describe the spymaster, but presumptuous definitely wasn’t one of them. Which meant Nico really was a son of Hades, a prophecy kid.

“When did you hear the rumour?” Wren demanded.

“A few minutes ago,” Alabaster scowled.

“Did you hear anything before that?” She asked, “Anything at all?”

“No.”

“You’re sure? You didn’t even suspect-”

“No!” He snapped at her, “It didn’t even cross my mind okay?”

And he was an idiot for that. He should have known.

Wren sighed and jotted something down on a paper pad he couldn’t see. “Where did you hear the rumour from?”

Alabaster paused. He didn’t want Briar to get into trouble for this when it wasn’t her who should have noticed something. He had heard the lengths Wren would go to if she thought them necessary. If she thought Briar was connected in some sinister way what would happen to her?

Wren slammed her fist against the table and it rang out, painfully loud. “Who did you hear the rumour from?” She leant in closely to his face.

He said nothing.

She brought her blade to his neck, it was cool, and so sharp it might have been leaving a cut even as she was applying little pressure.

“You only make yourself look suspicious by being silent,” her volume was low, but her tone was demanding as ever.

“My sibling,” he said at last, “Briar but she- she just pays attention to those sorts of things. She won’t know anything.”

“Where did she hear it from?” Wren widened the gap between them a little.

“I don’t know.” he admitted, “The usual people probably, you know, it didn’t seem any more grounded than anything else that goes around.”

But it had been.

“Have you been to Camp Half-Blood at all since you left?” She asked, giving no indication as to what connection this questioning had with the previous line.

“What?” He blinked, “Of course not.”

Why would she ask that? Why would they be wondering about that unless… well unless they really thought he was some kind of traitor. They wouldn’t- they couldn’t think that though, he cared about their cause more than he had any other. They knew that, surely?

“Not when you were in the labyrinth?”

“No,” he said, “I was looking for an entrance to Camp.”

She jotted something down, “Have you had any contact with any members of Camp Half-Blood?”

“No.”

“What about Chris Rodriguez?” She questioned, “You defended him.”

“Because I know what it’s like to be down there,” he insisted. “He’s a fellow soldier.”

She questioned him incessantly. Making him recount his meeting with Nico, his reasons for leaving Camp, anything he noticed, anything he should have noticed. Each event over and over, each detail he only half-remembered inspected to death.

Finally, she stood up and looked to Luke.

“He’s not a traitor,” she decided.

“You’re sure?” His voice was cold and cruel.

“Yes.”

Alabaster never thought he could be this grateful to her in his life, because Wren had probably just saved it.

He wasn’t the only relieved person. Aron clung to Felix looking like he might pass out. Luke just stared into space.

“We have to get to the meeting,” Wren sheathed her knives somewhere out of sight and unlocked the door. “Krios will get impatient.”

They walked to the meeting as a group, as if nothing had happened. As if they hadn’t just suspected him of betraying the cause he had been most dedicated to.

“I don’t have any of my stuff,” his voice was small, tired.

“Yeah,” Felix chuckled teasingly. “I got a feeling everyone’ll be more focused on other things.”

“Shut up Lanner,” Luke muttered. Alabaster had never heard anyone use Felix’s last name. It was clearly for a reason because he went silent instantly. No one felt keen to speak after that.

Most people were in the room by the time they got in. The monster lieutenant, cyclops, the dracaena queen, his empousa sister, and their like. Russel was just finding his seat, and at the head of the table was Krios.

The Titans, like gods, could pick any form they liked. Krios most often chose the form of a muscular man, with shadowy features and the tan skin of someone who spent all his days in the sun, like a warrior of ancient Greece. He chose his size carefully. Always too tall to be a mortal man, but carefully small enough to not be mistaken for a giant. He seemed to like the power that came with leaving people guessing.

Luke took a seat at the Titan’s side. Wren sat next to Russel, near Aron at the other end. Leaving the only seat next to Felix, opposite Russel. He moved to it silently and no one spared him a glance, for now.

Krios raised his voice to address the whole room. “We have pre-planned matters to attend to. However, in light of recent news, we have new priorities. We have received news from the Titan Lord himself that one of the new half-blood recruits, by the name of,” he glanced down at his notes, “Nico di Angelo, is a child of Hades. Thus making him the potential subject of the Great Prophecy. We must therefore decide what actions to take.”

There was something wrong with referring to Nico as solely a child of Hades. It was too… reductive. Too similar to how they talked about the forces of Camps Half-Blood and Jupiter. Nico wasn’t some tool of Olympus. He was more. So much more of a person.

The room had quickly erupted into a cacophony of voices. Some, like Alabaster, were dubious. Others were suspicious, not liking the new uncontrolled variable, even calling for Nico’s murder - and almost making Alabaster go after them with his sword in the process. In contrast, however, some saw it as an opportunity, including a particularly enthusiastic cyclops.

“Let’s kill Jackson!” He cheered in the same tone one might announce winning the lottery, same volume too.

“Silence!” Krios cast a shadow over the table as he rose, “You will contain yourselves.”

Everyone shut up. After a few precautionary moments, Alabaster removed his fingers from his ears. From the murmuring he could catch, they were still leaning too murderous for his liking.

Wren cleared her throat two times before Krois acknowledged her.

“Killing Jackson now would be preemptive at best.” She projected so the whole room could hear her, “We know his location?”

Luke nodded.

“And our spies are facing no resistance. We have no reason to kill him yet and no impediment on doing it later.” She was met with murmurs of agreement.

“Damn shame,” Felix muttered next to him.

“He’s like fifteen,” Aron whispered back.

Alabaster couldn’t help chiming in, “I’m fifteen.”

“Yeah Aron, he’s fifteen.” Alabaster couldn’t quite tell if he was being mocked or not.

Aron rolled his eyes, “You just wanna burn a camp to the ground.”

Felix shrugged, a smile dancing across his lips, “‘Least I’m not picky. Jackson, Grace, all the same to the bullet.”

“You’ll get your chance,” Aron sighed, but he was also smiling even if it was a slightly sad kind.

Alabaster could almost ignore what had happened earlier.

“We use him then,” a bleach blond empousa -Kelsy he thought - grinned. The Jackson question had seemingly been resolved, moving the focus to Nico. A conversation Alabaster was much more invested in.

“Obviousssly,” the dracaena queen hissed, “but how?”

“Lock him up. Train him. Set him loose.” Russel interrupted, self-satisfied as ever, “It’s not that complicated. Besides,” he nodded at Alabaster, “he’s already under that one’s thumb.”

Alabaster scowled. That was it. He was going to take his worst rune and shove it down Russel’s-

Felix dug his nails into Alabaster's leg. When they met eyes, he gave a subtle shake of the head.

“He found Nico yes,” Aron had immediately responded in his stead. “But that doesn’t mean he can control him.”

“But we have leverage?” Krios’s voice boomed, and Alabaster realised that the Titan had never looked at him before. Not really. Not in any way that mattered. Now he was looking. Staring. Seeing Alabaster’s every panicked thought, every weakness.

Felix was holding his hand now. Rubbing a thumb over it meditatively under the table.

A debate had broken out over how exactly they should use Nico to their advantage. It seemed a bit dehumanising, but he supposed the monsters - and Wren - talked about everyone that way. It probably wouldn’t turn out as manipulative as they were making it sound.

“And once that’s done,” The cyclops said as they got to the end of the planning, “We eliminate him.”

Alabaster frowned, “I don’t think he’ll betray us, especially that far in.”

Several people looked at him weirdly.

“We can’t risssk that, With hisss power.” The Dracaena queen said at last.

“He could fuck everything up,” Russel agreed. “Easier to just off him while we get the chance. You could even do it.”

“We don’t need to be that preemptive,” Wren said, but she’d been nodding subtly.

Aron and Felix too, made no protest, A glance around the room showed that no one seemed to be questioning this, as if it was expected. Was it? Had they all seen it coming?

They all just nodded along, no one pointing out how crazy it was. How crazy all of this was. It was worse than what they’d done to Chris. This was killing a child, for no reason at all.

They ironed out the details, assigned jobs. His was, at Wren’s suggestion, to keep Nico from figuring out his parentage for as long as possible. How many people would know before he did? What had been a shared goal mere hours ago was now confidential information. Its flow to be manipulated by people who didn’t give a second thought to his murder. Known by just about everyone except whom it most concerned.

The rest of the meeting passed with a blur. He tried to tune in, to focus on food supplies and missions, instead of what was really happening. It was no use, he didn’t even have a journal to take notes in. Felix had to lead him out in a daze at the end of the meeting.

Luke spared them the barest glance and a mutter of, “I’m going to lie down.” Before walking to his quarters.

They were soon left with just him, Felix, Aron, and Wren. With Russel trailing behind like a prideful puppy.

“Hey,” He leaned over Wren’s shoulder. She made a disgusted face. “Bet you’re pretty embarrassed you didn’t notice that there was a prophecy kid right under your nose.” The absolute silence he got in response seemed to encourage him. “Wasn’t he around your sister all the time too?”

Wren shoved him off her, “Fuck. Off.”

He scowled but complied.

They walked in silence. Wren nudged his shoulder, “You still shaken up from the interrogation?”

Alabaster said nothing.

“I didn’t actually think you were a traitor, you know,” she continued. “You’re not the type.”

Alabaster paused, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, “Just that you’re not the betraying type. You’re like Aron, loyal to the end. No matter what.”

He stopped walking entirely. They were in the courtyard passage, no reason to stick with the inner circle.

“I’m going to my room. It’s been a long day, I’m overstimulated; too many surprises.” He turned and left without another word.

When he got to his room he locked the door and went to the bed, not bothering with the light. He grabbed a pillow, large and plush with a grey covering, curled into it and screamed until his throat was dry. Before he knew it he was flailing his limbs, ankles bashed into the bedframe, hands raked through his scalp. Screams turned to sobs, fingers digging into flesh. Nails pulling away skin to reveal the soft pink underneath.

He wasn’t sure how long it lasted before he wore himself out and drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke, groggy, it was to find his shoes removed and a blanket draped over him. On his desk was a sandwich and a packet of chips. Next to them, his first aid kit dug out of somewhere, and a note.

You missed dinner. Got you something. Clean yourself up.
B.
He smiled slightly. As he got to the work of cleaning the wounds and pulling out the tiny fibres lodged in their sticky surface, he couldn’t quite feel the usual shame. Small miracles.

While changing, his eye caught the photo wall. Nico was in some of them now. Smiling over a spell completed. Shining with sweat after beating Alabaster in a spar for the first time - a feat he still had yet to replicate.

He tried to picture it, killing the boy. Pushing a dagger into his back, or driving Nico’s own sword into his gut. Watching his shocked expression as his soul was leached away. His eyes would go wide, like they did when Shell jumped him out of nowhere. His pale lips barely parted, forming a question he’d never get to ask. One Alabaster would never get to hear.

His knees gave out. The sobs returned in wet, warm, free-flowing tears.

‘I won’t let anything happen to you.’

He’d promised. He’d sworn.

‘I swear on the River Styx that I will do everything within my power to protect you.’

This wasn’t protection. This wasn’t right.

‘You’re not the type.’

Was that a compliment? Was it a good thing? Or did loyalty just mean cowardice? Was he just too blind, too naive, too stupid to see what was right in front of him?

They had to leave.

The next morning, Alabaster went down to breakfast. He didn’t talk to Briar about what had happened. He didn’t often talk about the meltdowns after they happened so they questioned nothing.

He made it through the day surprisingly well. The hours stretched on though. Like they were trying to ensnare him, and maybe they were, but it didn’t matter. Time still had to move for now.

He couldn’t do work. He spent most of the day deciding what to pack. When he left Camp Half-Blood he’d have months to ponder it over. The Hecate kids had taken all of their materials anyway. His sister had made sure of it before she-

Nevermind.

Now he had only a day and what could be carried on his back. His best inks, his good pens, should he take the stuff he and Briar were working on? He probably wouldn’t get many chances to use it. It would be better with her. How many journals did he take? He still needed room for books. Which ones should he choose? Which would his siblings need for their projects? Or should he take the most useful ones so Krios couldn’t use them? No. He wasn’t betraying the Titan Army, not really. Right?

The hardest bit would be Nico. Alabaster couldn’t risk telling him before they left. The rooms had been shuffled so Nico and Shell shared, and if she woke up it was all over.

When night fell, Alabaster didn’t change. He took his pen and wrote a letter to Briar, they would have to be in charge now. All alone. He wasn’t sure there was anything he could say that made choosing Nico over them any better. If he told the truth they might go after him, or do something rash. She had to stay, someone had to stay and take care of everyone. Whatever story was told after he left would have to stand. All he could do was apologise.

He slipped it under her door on the way to Nico’s room.

The door opened with a quiet click. Alabaster shuffled over to Shell’s bed and muttered over her sleeping body.

“Incantare: dormeo.” It wouldn’t last long, but he needed his energy. He walked to the other bed and shook Nico’s shoulders, “Hey, wake up.”

He rolled over and groaned, “What?”

“Sh,” he hurried Nico out of bed, “We gotta go.”

“Where?” He stumbled up and started moving towards Shell’s bed, probably to wake her. Alabaster had to frantically steer him to the closet.

“Doesn’t matter,” he started grabbing clothes, “pack. You’ve still got your bag from the labyrinth?”

Maybe it was the trust they had built in the labyrinth, maybe Alabaster really did have more influence over the boy than he thought. But regardless of the reason, some dense determination came over Nico, and he listened.

They moved quietly to the basement, where he was pretty sure they could steal a car or something. Most of the lights were off, covering the rooms in shadow. They could barely see their hands in front of their own faces.

They found the parking lot soon enough, but none of the cars had keys nearby. Alabaster moved around hastily, what would happen if they couldn’t find a key soon enough? There was a room around her somewhere.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered.

“Hey!” A voice somewhere in the darkness called out. “Lot’s closed for the night?”

“Hide,” Alabaster grabbed Nico’s wrist and ducked around a corner.

Whoever was there paused for a moment before booming, “Half-Bloods!”

“Fuck, run!” There was no way Alabaster could cover up Nico’s scent with mist. He could only hope they thought it was some regular intruding party and not a prophecy kid.

“Why are we hiding?” There was fear in Nico’s voice as he asked, it had taken so long to get him to trust this place. Now it was for nothing.

A light came on somewhere behind them with a bang, another probably soon to follow. He just barely managed to drag Nico out before the whole place was lit. Unfortunately, they came out into the awakened basement and a blaring alarm.

Alabaster hissed at the sudden light and noise. He reached for his headphones before registering Nico’s near-identical reaction and shoving them over his ears instead.

“We have to keep going,” Alabaster gasped. Though where they were supposed to go, he now had no idea.

They were heading for the main stairs now. Alabaster mentally prepared to fight their way through, then he remembered something and nearly tripped over his own feet.

“Left,” He had to tug Nico with all his strength to keep him upright and moving. “Go left!”

So they turned towards the espionage department and a certain spiral staircase.

They reached it. Alabaster wrenched the door open, pushing Nico in front of him. They ran up the stairs like mad men. When he saw the light ahead of him, Alabaster nearly cried with relief. They came out and crashed. Right into Wren.

Alabaster's fingers were on his mistform paper in a second. Lips forming a spell the next. The sword appeared in front of him, casting its golden light.

“Let us through,” he was too desperate now to fear looking her dead on.

“Put that thing away!” She hissed at him, not even acknowledging the demand.

There was something wrong. Her composure had disappeared, replaced by a wild, frantic furry, it almost scared him more.

She gestured for them to follow, “Walk.”

Alabaster lowered the sword carefully, “We’re leaving,” he insisted, “Both of us.”

“Not if you don’t move.” She growled, “Come.”

Nico started walking, there was no real choice but to follow.

“Where are we going?” His voice was hollow and afraid, “Why are we running?”

Alabaster didn’t answer, what could he say?

Wren ignored him, “You’re earlier than we thought you’d be.” She didn’t slow her stride, “That’s good. Less time for people to wake up and come to their senses.”

“‘We’...” Alabaster’s half-frozen too-overstimulated brain worked to connect the dots. Trying to think was impossible through that Gods’ damned alarm. “Are you? Is Luke-”

“No.” She sounded almost sad, “No, if Luke knows then he’ll know.”

He nodded, then realised she couldn’t see him, “Right.”

He expected them to come out into the main corridor like they had previously. Instead, Wren led them into a small space he hadn’t ever noticed before.

“Where are we going?”He called to her.

“Your plan was to steal a car?”

He muttered, trying not to be disturbed at how much she knew of his plans, “Yeah.”

“The only way to get a car out of here is from the lot’s exit or the big doors. Both are secured by now. There are multiple smaller exits that lead out to the mountains, like the one you used on Mondy.” She nodded to Nico.

“You what?” Alabaster demanded.

At the same time, Nico said, “You know about that?”

Wren ignored them both, “But if you go on foot you’ll either be overtaken or lost in the mountains. You need a small, poorly secured exit that can get you as far away as possible as quickly as possible. Without the need for the main doors and with little risk of being followed.”

Then Alabaster caught on. There was one exit that fit the bill. One that no one in the Army had managed to utilise yet. Except for him and Nico. The one that was connected to the very throne room the corridor was now opening into.

“The labyrinth,” Nico beat him to voicing the realisation. “It’s here. I can feel it.”

“Good for you,” a voice whispered out of the darkness. Two figures approached them, a lanky young man with black curls, and his coily-haired partner trailing after. Aron and Felix.

Wren pushed them forward into the throne room but remained hidden.

“Good luck,” was all she said to Alabaster before turning to Nico, “I’ll give Mel your goodbye. She liked you I think.”

Nico nodded slowly, he still didn’t understand what was going on.

Aron took Nico’s hand and lent down to his level. “We’ve gotta get you out of here, it’s not safe for you anymore,” he explained like Alabaster had seen him do before. Never this way around though.

The throne room was all dark marble and intimidation. Alabaster had seen Olympus once, and the two looked all too similar. He supposed it was supposed to be a kind of irony, a better version of the Olympian’s finest luxury. In the low moonlight, looking up at the overbearing throne, it just made him feel small. That was a point of a throne he supposed, if you asked him maybe they shouldn’t have one.

Aron and Felix lead them through the room, to a gap in the marble where the labyrinth entrance lay. It had been guarded when they first discovered it, and when the missions were running, but by now it had been concluded no enemy forces could use the labyrinth to assault them.

The last time he’d been here it had been when he was entering the labyrinth on that last mission. The one he’d met Nico on. It had been daytime then, Luke had watched and wished him luck, Shell and Briar had hugged him right before he went in.

Now it was just the four of them in the darkness. One hand clutched around Nico’s, the other hovering over Daedalus' mark.

“I’ll take care of him,” Alabaster told Aron and Felix.

“We know,” Felix said. “Wish there was more we could do, kid.”

Alabaster sighed. The right thing to say would probably be something like ‘You’ve done more than enough’ or ‘We’ll be okay’, but he wasn’t sure they would be. He didn't know if they had.

He settled with, “Goodbye,” before descending into the darkness once again.

-+-

They had been walking for ages, and Alabaster had said nothing so Nico hadn’t either.

He wanted to ask what exactly had just happened, or why they’d had to leave, why it hadn’t been safe. That seemed like one of those questions with a complicated answer though. Alabaster would explain eventually. He always did.

Instead, Nico asked, “Where are we going now?”

Alabaster sighed, tiredly and desperately.

“I don’t know Nico,” he answered. “Away from here.”

They kept walking, and the silence overtook them again. They stayed like that for a long time, it might have been hours, it might have been days.

Alabaster perked up suddenly.

“Maybe…” he muttered under his breath, he was thinking. “Hey Nico, do you remember…” he trailed

“Remember what?” Nico asked

“Where exactly it was…that you met Ethan?”