Archive of Our Own

Nico di Angelo waited for his father at the bend in the river closest to his obsidian palace. Thousands of indiscernible items sank and resurfaced through the turbulent black water— representations of lost hopes and broken dreams. The Styx roared past the demigod, snaking its way through the underworld, ad infinitum. He resisted the urge to cover his ears. The sound was not merely the force of rushing water, but an ever growing collection of discordant despair: shrieks, muffled sobs, hyperventilating, outraged shouting, moans, perpetual crying.

He rubbed down the gooseflesh on his arms. Not so long ago, he’d witnessed Percy Jackson bathe in the river to gain invulnerability so he’d be better protected in the fight against the titan Kronos. The risk had worked out, but could’ve been fatal. Though most wouldn’t survive the river’s shuddering current, Nico had believed in Percy’s strength, in his ability to do anything. He’d felt convinced of this ever since Percy had rescued him and his sister Bianca from Westover Hall. Excepting Kronos and his demigod vessel Luke Castellan and Hades’s trickery, Nico wished he could have those moments all over again: Percy trusting him and the two of them working together without anyone else.

Glancing toward the glittering black towers, he wondered why his father had summoned him. Maybe Hades had been spying on Nico? Or, he’d acted upon some paternal sense that Nico was in desperate need of a diversion? Nico dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands, hard. Nothing in all of his father’s realm could compare to the grotesque reality-check he’d experienced a few hours earlier:

Although he understood that Percy didn’t view them as close so perhaps it would be weird to give him a birthday present, Nico couldn’t help himself. Growing up, he and Bianca would make one another gifts and he missed the tradition now that she wasn’t around. He still offered her spirit a McDonalds Happy Meal on special occasions, but it wasn’t the same. All day, he deliberated on the best way to present the gift. All day, he wrestled with himself over whether to go through with it.

Then, came the shrieks and commotion from the direction of the lake. He tucked the Mythomagic-style card he’d drawn of the son of Poseidon into his pocket and hurried after other concerned campers. A crowd of teens lingered and paced by the edge of the lake, peering into the water as if they expected a dolphin to surface any moment.

Nico approached the nearest onlooker: the golden retriever sunshine Apollo kid, the medic guy. He tugged at his sleeve.

“Oh hey, Nico!”

He felt a stab of guilt for not remembering the boy’s name. “Hey. What’s going on?”

The son of Apollo grinned. “It’s Percy and Annabeth. We caught them kissing at the arts and crafts pavilion, carried them down here, and tossed them into the lake. They’ve been down there for a while now, so— wait, what’s wrong?”

Nico felt like he couldn’t breathe. He stumbled backward from the boy, turned on his heel, and fled up the hill. In the dark of his cabin, face raw with crying, Nico shredded the homemade card into tinier and tinier pieces.

“My boy!” Hades appeared next to him, now. “Apologies for the delay. Had to review some of the placement proposals in cases of the dead where the jury’s still out. You know paperwork! Always takes longer than one anticipates.”

Nico shrugged. He wanted to ask why his father had summoned him, but wasn’t sure if this directness would be considered rude and only result in a lecture on respect.

“You look quite terrible. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

As if in answer, Nico’s stomach growled and he winced at the gnawing hunger pang. There’d been no way he was going to dinner or campfire or anywhere else Percy and Annabeth might be for the foreseeable future. “I’m fine. How are you?”

Hades straightened, brows raising. “Well enough, I suppose. Listen, Nico, I asked you here because certain forces are stirring once again, and my siblings are bickering amongst themselves with no desire to listen to miserable old Hades.”

“Rachel—she’s our oracle now—had her first prophecy the other day. It warns of the world falling to storm or fire and of the Doors of Death. It foretells an endeavor taken on by seven heroes. Seems pretty doomsday. Does that have anything to do with your certain forces?”

Hades hummed noncommittally. “Perhaps against better judgment, I intend to let you in on a long kept secret. It is unavoidable if you are to fulfill the station I envision for you. I believe you are well-suited to this particular task as you are accustomed to multiple simultaneous realities. You have suffered from chronological displacement—tethered between a bygone era and the present. You walk the line between living and dead, at home in both realms.”

Nico fiddled with his skull ring, twisting it around his index finger. He wanted to ask his father to cut to the chase, but knew this would be considered rude and doubted he could withstand even further suspense.

“At one time you were oblivious to my and my family’s existence, to your demi-abilities and your relationship to great prophecy.”

Nico wanted to say, and whose fault was that, but swallowed his lingering bitterness.

“These days, you take them for granted as ordinary. I invite you to consider that the Olympians are not the only historically powerful houses as it were. Greeks are not the only cultural power after all.”

Now that Hades said this it made total sense to Nico. How could he have entertained any other reality? It was like naïvely believing there to be only one religion. Just because someone had personal connection to one didn’t negate the existence of others. “So...There are a bunch of other gods that exist in modern times? That impact mortals’ lives? That...have kids with mortals?”

“Precisely. Though they do not all manifest in the same ways or in the same places. Influence is always contextual, you see. In California, there is a camp for demigods of Roman lineage, Camp Jupiter. They know not of Camp Half-Blood. There, you have a sister.”

Apparently, the Roman gods also thought little of abstinence pacts when it came to relations with mortals. Big Three Pact (Roman version). “A daughter of...Pluto? How does that... how is she my sister if she’s not...” Nico broke off, ears burning, unsure that he wanted a detailed explanation of his father’s or his father’s doppelgänger’s dalliances.

“Pluto is an aspect of myself, a manifestation of an alternative path, which differs from my original conception. Both exist because Greek and Roman cultural powers persist equally. Does that make sense?”

“I guess? So he’s like the Persian to your Meowth?”

“What?”

“Never mind. What’s her name?”

“Hazel Levesque. She, like you, comes from another time. I would like for you to check in on her.”

“Okay. Sure. Fine. Where in California is this place? The state’s pretty big.”

“I shall get you the coordinates. Do not worry about that now. There is more to your assignment: There will come a future time when it is necessary for these two groups to not only know about one another, but to work together. The fate of the world will hinge upon such an alliance. Historically these Greek and Roman counterparts have warred and been at odds, even if positively influencing one another at times. The situation must be handled delicately and strategically. This is where you come in, my son.”

“Me?” The fate of the world rested upon Nico’s performance? Goodbye world. Nice knowing you.

“In addition to checking in on your sister, I would like for you to learn the ways of Camp Jupiter. Slowly, delicately, I would like for you to ingratiate yourself with the campers there, without letting them know of your background. They will presume you are a child of Pluto and you must let them think this.”

Nico took a deep breath, the icy air off the Styx stinging his throat and chest. “Okay. When will I go? How long shall I wait before introducing myself?”

“For the time being, you will merely observe and report back to me. I will instruct you as your role must needs develop. Over time, you will plant the seeds for this alliance, so that it has a chance to develop roots and eventually bloom when the moment is right."

Nico imagined Persephone being pleased with this metaphor. “Okay. Sure. Sounds fine.”

“Nico, you won’t be able to tell any friends at Camp Half-Blood what you are doing or of the existence of another Camp. And as you spend time with those at Camp Jupiter, you must not reveal your intentions regarding the alliance nor the existence of Camp Half-Blood. Are you clear on this?”

Friends? Did he have friends at Camp Half-Blood? He’d wanted to be friends with Percy. Rachel seemed alright (at least they could bond over their jealousy of Annabeth) and that Apollo guy seemed cool. Plenty of the campers seemed nice enough, but they didn’t seem all too taken with Nico, the creepy death boy.

“Son, I must ask you to swear it. That is why I requested to meet by the river.” Then, Hades articulated the commitment he wished Nico to make—their verbal binding contract.

Nico glanced down into the frothing black current, felt the tug of its momentum in his chest and heard its captured anguish. “I vow to do what is asked of me and to go where I must in order to help foster an alliance between the Roman and Greek demigods without divulging to either the existence of the other or my part in this effort. I swear this on the River Styx.”