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“Welcome to Salona,” the wind god Favonius said, gesturing broadly at the ruins around them. “Capital of Dalmatia! Birthplace of Diocletian! But before that, long before that, it was the home of Cupid.”
The name echoed around them, as if disembodied voices were whispering it through the air, making sure they knew exactly whose territory they were on.
Jason shivered, gripping his sword for reassurance. The crumbling stone structures were unimpressive at first glance, but something about this place was even creepier than the palace basement in Split. Jason hadn’t ever spent much time thinking about Cupid, but he’d certainly never considered that the god of love could be scary . Even for Roman demigods, the name conjured up an image of a silly winged baby with a toy bow and arrow, flying around on cheap Valentine’s Day cards and low-budget advertisements. Cute and cuddly, yeah, maybe a little cheesy, but definitely not scary.
“Oh, he’s not like that,” said Favonius.
Jason flinched. “You can read my mind?”
“I don’t need to.” Favonius waved a hand airily. “Everyone has the wrong impression of Cupid, until they meet him.”
Beside Jason, Nico drew a shaky breath, and braced himself against a column, his legs trembling visibly.
“Hey, man, you okay?” Jason took a step towards him, but Nico shook his head violently, wrapping his arms around himself. Around his feet, the grass turned brown and wilted.
“Ah, I don’t blame you for being frightened, Nico di Angelo.” Favonius clucked sympathetically.
“I’m not scared,” Nico muttered. The dead patch of grass at his feet was slowly spreading outward, the sparse vegetation shriveling as if poison was seeping from the soles of his shoes.
“Oh, I do hope you’re not planning on lying to Cupid like that. He won’t like it.” Favonius reached out a consolatory hand to pat Nico on the shoulder, and sighed as the boy jerked away. “If it’s any consolation, your friend is just as frightened as you are, but he’s pretending that he isn’t.”
Jason’s chest tightened as Favonius gestured to him.
“There’s no reason for Cupid to scare me,” Jason insisted, a little too forcefully.
Nico looked sideways at Jason, his posture straightening.
A gentle breeze sighed around the wind god, tugging at Jason’s loose shirt. Both demigods shivered. “A word of advice, boys,” Favonius said after a moment, looking almost sad. “You cannot lie to the god of love. He will tear you to pieces, and smile most beautifully as he does it.”
Jason swallowed, a cold feeling settling in his stomach as Favonius’ expression grew far away and pinched, as if remembering something painful.
“There are no secrets you can keep from Cupid,” he said finally. “You cannot face him lying to yourselves and to each other. If you let your fear rule you,” Favonius’ eyes landed on Nico, who was now perfectly still. “If you let your anger rule you, your fates will be even sadder than mine.”
Jason hesitated. “So when you say ‘tear us apart’. . .”
“I mean it quite literally, son of Jupiter.”
“Oh.” Jason’s voice sounded strange in his ears. “That’s great. That’s really great.”
“He may simply drive you mad,” Favonius offered. “Depends on his mood. He's unpredictable like that.”
Nico let out a strangled laugh. “Sounds like a delight.”
“I’d best be going, then. Cupid and I aren’t on the friendliest of terms.” Favonius checked a nonexistent watch on his wrist. “You probably have, let’s say, four to six minutes before he decides to show himself. I suggest you prepare yourselves. Try that honesty I mentioned.” The wind god smiled at them both in turn, and began to dissolve in swirls of red and gold. “Good luck, demigods. I do hope you survive.”
Jason stared at the spot where Favonius had been, his gut twisting. “Gods,” he muttered. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”
He glanced over at Nico, who had grown pale, his jaw clenched so tightly that he was probably having trouble breathing. “Nico?” Jason said tentatively, and the son of Hades shot him a glare so fierce that Jason was faintly surprised he didn’t drop dead. (Could that happen? He wouldn’t really be surprised by anything that the Underworld kids could do at this point.) He cleared his throat.“Is there, uh, anything you want to get off your chest before we see Cupid?”
Nico crossed and uncrossed his arms. “No.”
“C’mon, you heard Favonius. We—” Jason swallowed. “We have to be honest with each other.”
“Well, what about you?” Nico challenged, holding Jason’s eyes. “He was talking to both of us. What does the son of Jupiter have to lie about?”
Jason dropped his gaze immediately, his face flushing. He stared at the withered patch of grass around Nico’s feet, and willed himself to say Nothing, there’s nothing, why would I be lying about anything? Just say it.
The silence stretched around them, his throat full of sand, and Nico’s eyes burned into him. Favonius’ words rang in his ears. Tear you apart . . . four to six minutes. . .
Jason exhaled sharply, straightening up. They didn’t have time for this. He ran his fingers along the grip of his sword and took another deep breath, and realised he was stalling. “Okay,” he said, and Nico raised an eyebrow. “Okay.” Jason repeated a little louder. “You ever feel like, there’s a certain thing, a certain person that everyone just expects to see when they look at you, so you try and you really want to live up to it, but it never fits right, and you’re just constantly terrified of people finding out you’re not the way you’re supposed to be?”
Nico barked out a humourless laugh, and Jason jumped a little. “Yeah. Yeah, I uh — ” The son of Hades closed his eyes for a moment, flexing his fingers. “I know the feeling.”
Jason was surprised at the weight in his voice, the raw pain drenching every word. Every demigod he knew had had a rough life — it was practically compulsory — but whatever Nico had been through. . . Gods. They really didn’t know each other very well.
Nico cleared his throat, crossing his arms back into his usual defensive stance. “So. What does that have to do with the scepter?”
Jason stared at his impassive face, and blurted, “I’m not in love with Piper.”
The wind ruffled his hair and Jason had the brief, absurd worry that it looked messy. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Uh. That’s it. Well, no, that’s not it, I mean the—obviously it’s all this other Jupiter, praetor, whatever stuff, too, hah, yeah.” Jason was rambling, and gods, they were practically strangers. Nico didn’t need all of this. “But right now with Cupid, I’m just . . . Piper—shit, I’m not . . . I just don’t — ”
“That’s okay, right?” Nico interrupted, looking profoundly uncomfortable and more than a little baffled as Jason tripped and fell spectacularly over his sentence. “I thought you guys haven’t even been together that long."
“No, no, it’s like —” Jason scrubbed a hand across his face, the words tangled in his mouth. “I’m not in love with her at all. Not like that. Not like—not like I’m supposed to be.”
The gentle breeze around them grew cold. “Ah. Okay.”
Jason’s words rang in his own ears and reverberated through his body. He tried desperately to believe that he’d had an epiphany, that it was a sudden realisation spurned by Favonius’ warning about the god of love, but it went deep down, scraping raw all the way to his core. He’d already known. It was something he had known for a while now, maybe even for months. And it wasn't even the whole truth.
"The whole truth?" Nico echoed, and Jason realised that he’d said the last part aloud. He took a breath that came out as a shaky gasp, and another, and pushed his fingers against his chest. Nico’s face was carefully blank. "Jason, you don't have to — "
"No, I do, I do." Jason tried another deep breath, this time successfully, though his voice still wavered. "It's not just Piper that I —that I don’t have those feelings for. I thought it was just a side effect of the amnesia, all my emotions felt like they belonged to someone else. But even when my memories came back . . . I’ve always felt like that. O r not felt like that, I guess.” He tapped his fingers rhythmically along the scabbard at his belt, and forced himself to speak slower. “ Like Reyna, I thought —I thought that’s what a praetor, a proper role model, a good, normal son of Jupiter should feel, should want . She’s awesome, you know? I led her on, and she’s way too smart for her own good, so of course she could tell, and. . . I hurt her for no reason.”
Nico was staring past Jason, his brow furrowed in an inscrutable expression that was the moody, sophisticated second cousin to his usual fierce scowl. Jason wondered if the son of Hades had actually heard anything he had just said, and whether he would be upset if Jason threw up all over the cobblestones.
“Okay,” Nico said, in an almost unrecognizably soft voice. “That’s probably good you said that. That sounded like it was hard.”
A slightly hysterical laugh slipped from Jason’s mouth, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah. Great. So, uh, what about you?”
The air around them seemed to grow darker, the shadows around the ruined pillars creeping towards them. Nico’s mouth twisted. “We probably don’t need to talk about that.”
“You sure?” Nico’s eyes had a dangerous light to them, but Jason couldn’t help himself. They were about to go confront an apparently psychopathic love god, Jason had just admitted he’d been lying to his amazing, incredible, badass, selfless girlfriend for months (and himself for even longer) and his skin felt full of static, the air around him buzzing. “Didn’t you hear Favonius? Cupid will literally tear us apart if we can’t face our feelings.” Nico flinched as a couple of sparks jumped from Jason’s arm, and oh, right, son of Jupiter. Actual electricity. “Shit, sorry.” Jason exhaled slowly, wringing his hands out. “I’m a little worked up. You don’t have to tell me anything.”
Nico clenched his jaw, eyes fixed on a crumbling statue beside him.
Jason glanced around the courtyard, wondering how long it had been since Favonius had left them, and shivered. They had no idea what kind of fight was ahead of them. How did someone even confront the god of love? Gods, he hoped it would just be a fight, that there would be something he could hit with his sword, something he could strategise his way through. That at least they could survive.
“Gods, you’re right.” Nico’s quiet voice startled Jason out of his planning.
“What? Right about what?”
“Cupid. This —” Nico gestured aggressively at the open air, then dropped his arms, scowling. “You’re right. Favonius was right . I’m being ridiculous. I need to . . . We need that stupid scepter.”
Jason wasn’t sure what to do; it wasn’t really the appropriate time for a pep talk. “Okay.” He watched Nico’s twisting face carefully. “Go for it.”
Nico took a shuddering breath, then choked, and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Fuck,” he said flatly. His shadow darkened, shifting around his feet.
Jason tried a gentle, encouraging tone. “Listen, man, I don’t want to pressure you about anything. Promise. I just don’t want to be blindsided by whatever Cupid’s gonna throw at us. Seriously, though, I’m not gonna judge you. Annabeth’s cool, and I know you’re not trying to —”
“Wh — Annabeth? ” Nico let out a strangled sound that might have been a laugh. “Why would you even think. . . No, I get it, actually. Gods.” He dragged a hand down his face, suddenly exhausted.
Jason blinked. “So, you don’t have a crush on Annabeth?” What had Favonius said? The one you care for most, plunged into Tartarus.
“I— No. ” Nico's voice was anguished, and Jason suddenly remembered that the son of Hades had been raised in 1930s Italy, and wished that he could shovel all of his words back into his mouth and down his esophagus.
“Okay. Not Annabeth,” he said carefully, thinking very violent thoughts towards Favonius and Cupid.
“Not Annabeth,” Nico agreed, his voice ragged.
Jason moved to put a hand on Nico’s shoulder, then dropped his arm to tap along his own belt instead. “Hey.” He almost looked away when Nico held his gaze. “I meant it. I’m not gonna force you to say it to me, and I . . . I’m definitely not judging you.” As soon as this quest was over, Jason was going to personally track down and smack every single person (and god, for that matter) who was responsible for that cracked and hollow look in the son of Hades’ eyes. Or maybe he could just cheer while Nico bashed them with his scary black sword. That would be good.
Jason exhaled. “So we don’t really know each other that well, and this is all kinds of messed up. I don’t really know what to say. But for what it’s worth, Nico? I’ve got your back. You’re not facing Cupid alone.”
Nico’s jaw tightened, and for a moment Jason thought he was going to hit him. “Yeah, okay.” He cleared his throat a few times, glancing down. “Thanks,” Nico muttered finally, his eyes tracing one of the cracks in the ground. “Let’s just get what we came here for.”
The ground shook beneath them. The soft breeze had stopped, and the summer air grew suddenly thick and heavy, as if anticipating a thunderstorm. Nico and Jason drew their swords in unison, moving to stand back to back.
So .
The voice rushed past Jason’s ear like a bullet, and he shuddered. When he turned, no one was there.
You come to claim the scepter.
“Cupid!” Jason called out with bravado he didn’t feel, casting his gaze around the empty ruins. A strange grey haze had settled all around them, too even and unnatural to be fog, swirling in faintly geometric patterns. Beside him, Nico was tense, an almost imperceptible trembling in his sword-hand. “Where are you?”
I’m right here, dear boy.
A vaguely humanoid shape, huge and shadowy, moved in Jason’s peripheral vision. As he twisted to face it, raising his blade, something rammed into his shoulder from the opposite side. He stumbled backwards into Nico, who swore and caught his arm clumsily.
“Thanks.” Nico removed his hand quickly as Jason steadied himself, squinting in the direction the attack had come from. “Where did he go?”
Nico pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I thought I saw him over there but—”
There was a sharp laugh like a whetstone scraping down a blade, a chilling, metallic sound that couldn't have been mistaken for anything remotely human. Oh, did you, Nico di Angelo?
The air swirled and shifted about twenty yards in front of them and something materialized, shooting directly at their faces. Jason grabbed the edge of Nico’s jacket and ducked forward, rolling underneath the projectile, which clattered against the ground where they had been standing.
Jason steadied his breathing and glanced quickly to the other boy at his side. Nico caught his eye and frowned, eyebrows knitting together.
“You okay?” Jason prompted, after Nico stayed silent for a moment too long. Nico blinked and opened his mouth hesitatingly, then his eyes narrowed and he yanked Jason towards himself. Another projectile whooshed past, barely missing Jason's left shoulder as he clasped Nico's forearm.
It was an enormous hunting arrow, about the length of his entire leg, with a weathered iron broadhead and mottled white feathers as fletching. Jason kicked the closer one aside on impulse, and winced as it clattered impossibly loud against the cobblestones.
“No one said anything about him trying to actually kill us,” Jason muttered.
Nico's mouth twisted. “I think we would've been dead as soon as we got here if he was really trying.” He glowered down at the arrows. “I’ve met enough gods. He's having fun with this.”
You are a clever one, aren't you, son of Hades? An arrow embedded itself in the cracks in the stone between Jason's feet with an enormous crack and he flinched backwards.
“We just need the stupid scepter!” Nico yelled, stepping forward and slashing his sword in a broad arc towards the space that the arrow had come from. “You don’t want Gaea to win, do you? Whose side are you even on?”
A theatrical sigh echoed around them. I am no one’s side, demigods. What do I care if Olympus crumbles? Love endures, through wars and beyond empire.
“Oh, he’s one of those ,” Jason muttered, and pivoted slowly, following the faint blurs of motion in the air. Was that a silhouette? Was that an arm, drawing and readying an arrow on a bowstring, or just a leaf blown haywire through the air? He shifted his grip on his sword, tense.
Ah, Jason Grace. You think you can see me where I am not. A heavy weight slammed into Jason’s stomach, and he doubled over, gasping.
You believe that by simply closing your eyes and pretending, you can force me to be where you think I ought. My dear boy, love cannot be pinned down so easily.
Jason barely deflected an arrow off the flat of his blade , and caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun, stabbing at it. His sword whizzed through empty air again and he stumbled, a cold laugh tickling the hairs at the base of his neck.
A valiant effort, demigod. But how long will you pretend? The invisible force shoved at his back as he overbalanced, and he fell, groaning as his forehead smacked against stone. Cupid made a tutting sound, suddenly close, and there was something like a breath against Jason’s ear. A cold shudder went down his spine. I’ve had such fun with Jupiter and his sons, before. It’s terribly disappointing to find you so —
“Leave him alone .” Nico’s voice rang out, and suddenly the son of Hades was next to him, hauling him to his feet with surprising strength. An arrow shot towards them, and he parried it to the ground with a metallic clang, then peered appraisingly into Jason's eyes. “You hit your head pretty hard there, you okay?”
Jason startled slightly at the show of concern, then immediately felt guilty for being surprised. “Yeah, I think so.” He shifted his feet, and tried for a light tone. “I just really don’t like this guy.”
Nico scoffed in agreement, and they turned their attention back to the ruined courtyard.
A shadow darted in front of them and Jason raised his sword, but Nico was already moving. The son of Hades pivoted, feinting left, and slashed low. The dark blade caught against something, and they caught a brief glimpse of bare, muscular calves before it flickered out of view again.
Golden ichor shone bright against the dark Stygian iron blade, dripping onto the cracked grey cobblestones. Both boys stared.
“Somehow I didn’t think —” Nico started, at the same time Jason said “ How did you even—”
Beautifully done, son of Hades. You see what can happen when you crawl out from the darkness?
Nico snarled wordlessly, and twisted as another arrow shot towards them. He braced himself and slashed downwards, the hazy air coalescing into thick, swirling shadows down the length of his blade, and sliced clean through the shaft. The two halves clattered to the ground.
Cupid’s bone-chilling voice rasped in amusement, suddenly behind them. Impressive. Why don’t you give your friend some pointers?
Jason’s sword arm erupted in pain as something slammed against his shoulder, but he managed to move with the blow, and stabbed outwards and up into where, he knew precisely without looking, his opponent was.
The gladius thrust into empty air. Half a breath later, the Stygian iron blade sliced through the exact same spot, and caught against something. A single white feather, flecked with gold, stuck against the metal for a moment, then fell to the ground like something exponentially heavier.
Nico followed it down with his eyes, then glanced up, his face mirroring Jason’s own confusion.
Jason pressed his lips together, mentally sifting through each attack that he’d missed, every shadow that Nico had seen but he hadn’t. Love cannot be pinned down so easily. He’s having fun with this.
“Nico, I —I don’t think I can hit him.” The words were painful to spit out. He lowered his sword, even as every instinct in his body screamed at him to push Nico behind him, to charge, to protect, to be the gods-damned leader you’re supposed to be, Jason Grace. He swallowed hard. “I can’t hit him,” he repeated. “I think it has to be you. I’m sorry, man.”
Surprisingly, Nico’s shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, I figured it’d come to that. Don't feel bad, it's what he wants." He adjusted his grip on his sword then sighed exaggeratedly. "Aren't there other people on this quest? Maybe literally anyone other than us should have tried to face the god of love." He took a few steps forward, scanning their surroundings. Jason blinked at his back, trying to decide if Nico di Angelo had just made a joke.
After a moment, he moved so he could cover Nico’s flank, though he wasn’t sure what use he would be. The son of Hades always fought like the entire world was his enemy, like he'd never been able to relax and know that someone was watching his back. He had developed the skills to compensate, clearly, with an inelegant but frighteningly efficient blend of techniques; some, Jason recognised from his time with the Greek demigods, but most were unfamiliar entirely. Jason wondered how long you had to know someone before you could ask, hey, your fighting style is extremely weird and terrifying, where'd you learn it? And while we're here, have you ever had a real friend? Are you taking applications?
Two arrows sped towards their heads, but they ducked and sidestepped easily. Nico squinted at the statue they seemed to have come from. “Enough games,” Jason called out, stepping deliberately on the shaft of one of the fallen arrows as Nico pivoted slowly, frowning in concentration a few yards ahead of him. “Scared to show your face, Cupid?”
Oh, I’m not the one who’s scared. The air grew thicker and cold, something like mist clinging onto their weapons and skin and clothes. You don’t even know what you ask for. It’s a dangerous thing, demigods, to look upon the true face of Love. My wife, Psyche, learned that the hard way.
A sudden gust of wind nearly knocked them both off their feet, and Jason caught the edge of Nico’s jacket to steady him. Nico nodded his thanks, then pushed his hair out of his face, scowling at something Jason couldn’t see. “Why don’t you let us decide that?” He snapped, raising his sword. “Just show us where you are.”
I’m right here, son of Hades. I always have been.
Nico let out a strangled sound and stumbled backwards abruptly, his back slamming against a half-standing pillar. If Jason squinted, he could almost see the blurred, shimmering outline of a hand at the base of his neck, and a bare, muscular arm, dragging him upwards slowly.
Still you cannot even look at me. Nico choked, his feet kicking to stay on the ground. His sword dropped from his slackened grip and he scrabbled at the empty air in front of him.
Still you cannot even utter my name, or anything true.
“Fine.” Nico sputtered, gasping out a breath, and fumbled his hand along his belt, just above the hip. “I’m gay, and you’re an asshole .” He stabbed violently upwards with a small bronze knife, and dropped to the ground. Nico tucked his head and rolled as he hit the concrete, grabbing his sword.
Nico yanked Jason with him behind a statue that might have once been a centaur, retching as he bent over to catch his breath. Cupid’s cold laugh echoed around them. Hide from me, Nico di Angelo. It's quite all right. An arrow ricocheted off the stone between their heads as they crouched, splitting it down the center. They both flinched.
“You okay?” Jason leaned in and tried to get a proper look at Nico’s neck. His breaths were coming fast and shallow, his head tilted downwards so that dark hair fell across his glassy, unfocussed eyes.
I am all the worst parts of you. They can never be allowed to see me.
Jason reached out, and hesitated then tapped his fingers against the crossguard of Nico’s sword. He pressed downward, and the hilt slipped in his loose grasp. Nico jerked, instinctively adjusting his grip to catch the sword before it fell, and he looked up at Jason, eyes wild. “You with me?” Jason asked quietly, holding his gaze and trying not to look as terrified as he felt.
Nico considered Jason, and suddenly his face cleared. He exhaled a sharp breath and nodded, then straightened up, motioning to Jason with a jerk of his chin.
Hide from me.
“ No. ” Nico said the word with surprising force, and strode forward, lowering his sword to his side. All around them, shadows flickered, twisting and fighting against the strange fog. Nico turned, eyes locking on a point just beyond Jason's left shoulder, and squared his shoulders. “You are not the worst part of me. And I. See. You. ”
Nico thrust his hand forward into the swirling mist, and yanked.
Cupid was a lean, muscular young man with broad snowy white wings, wearing a simple loose-fitting white shirt and dark cutoff jeans. The massive bow and quiver slung over his shoulder were no toys — they were instruments of destruction. His eyes were a violent shade of red, almost glowing, as if every Valentine in the world had been wrung dry, distilled into one deadly mixture. His face was beautiful, but harsh and angular, as if carved from stone. A self-satisfied smile perched on his lips as he glanced down at Nico di Angelo, who was nearly two heads shorter than him and gripping a fistful of the god’s shirt.
“Ah, there you are.” Cupid crooned, his voice smaller now, more human. He lifted a hand that dripped gold, revealing the knife still embedded up to the hilt in the soft inside of his wrist, and reached out to brush Nico’s clenched jaw. Jason raised his sword in a heartbeat, the point hovering above Cupid’s collarbone. The god tilted his head slowly towards him, and arched an eyebrow.
Holding that intense red gaze was immediately painful, like looking into the sun. Jason’s eyes watered, burning, and he clenched his grip, shaking a little. He glanced at Nico in silent question, and the other boy shook his head after a moment’s hesitation. Reluctantly, Jason lowered his sword to his side, but he didn't step away.
Cupid's lips quirked, and he slid his attention back to Nico. “It's so good to see you, finally looking back at me. You have beautiful eyes, son of Hades.” He tugged the knife free carelessly, and dropped it to the ground with an exaggerated motion. The ragged hole immediately began to close, skin smoothing over as if it had never been there.
Nico blinked hard, his eyes watering against Cupid’s gaze. “Fuck off.”
Cupid’s too-white teeth flashed in delight. “Do I still frighten you?”
Nico swallowed. “Yes,” he said flatly. “But you can’t control me anymore.”
“Oh, don’t be too sure of that.” He leaned down slightly, his shadow falling across Nico’s face, and his voice dropped low. “You don’t belong up here in the light, son of the Underworld. Who are you doing all this for?”
“I’m — ” Nico stumbled on the words. “My teammates. ”
Cupid laughed harshly, tilting his head back. “Your teammates? How clinical. Are they your friends, Nico di Angelo? Do you want them to be?”
“They could be. If I do my part.” Nico’s hand twisted in the fabric of the god’s shirt, the faintest tremble betraying his nerves. “Now give us the scepter, Cupid. ”
The fog was clearing around them, cold sunlight peeking through the clouds. Cupid gazed down at him, and sighed.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Jason Grace.” His stomach dropped as Cupid tipped a lazy smirk at him. “Here I am, and you’ve got your sword right there. Why don’t you try one more time?”
He spread his arms wide, inviting and mocking, and Jason tensed, electricity sparking along his blade.
“Fucking leave him alone. ” Nico swung his own sword up, using the blade to physically block Cupid’s stare. The god snapped his head back towards Nico, and bared his teeth.
“I’ll concede, demigods.” Cupid’s voice had flattened, all traces of amusement evaporated. Abruptly, he looked almost bored. “But be careful where you play. I won’t be so gentle next time.”
Cupid dissolved into the wind. Nico stumbled forward, hand grasping at air.
On the ground where the god had stood lay an ivory staff three feet long, topped with a dark globe of polished marble about the size of a baseball, nestled on the backs of three gold Roman eagles. The scepter of Diocletian.
Nico stared down at it for a long moment, then sheathed his blade and reached down. He wrapped his hands around the staff with the care one might use to handle a live snake, and turned it over slowly in his hands.
Jason sheathed his own sword and took a cautious step forward. The other boy's shoulders were heaving, his face still downturned. “Nico?” When he finally met Jason's eyes, his eyes were dry, but red-rimmed and exhausted, his dark circles standing out like day-old bruises against his skin.
“Nico,” he said again gently. “I’ve seen a lot of brave things. But what you just did? That was maybe the bravest.”
Nico’s jaw worked up and down for a moment, then he huffed out a quiet breath. “Oh, that?” He twirled the scepter casually. “Piece of cake, really.”
Jason let out a snort of surprised laughter, and the corners of Nico’s mouth twitched. Jason bent to grab the small knife that Cupid had tossed aside, and marvelled briefly at the ichor that stained the Celestial bronze blade. He held it out. “Thanks for sticking up for me there.” He tried a smile, feeling suddenly exhausted.
Nico nodded mutely, sliding the knife back in its hidden sheath. “Jason —” he tried, then pressed his lips together. Jason watched his eyes dart to the ground, then back up, and flick up towards the sky.
“I know that I’m— I’m hard to read.” Nico swallowed, and his words came out faster, spilling out of his mouth as if he couldn’t stand the taste on his tongue. “I’m hard to count on. I get it. It’s by design, mostly. But if you give me a chance, I promise I’ll earn your trust. I want to help with the quest.” With both hands upturned, he held out the scepter to Jason.
Privately, Jason thought that Nico wasn’t hard to read at all. He hadn’t known what to think when they’d first rescued him, so frail and malnourished that it seemed gravity might forget about him altogether, but wearing a fierce, defensive glare like chainmail and radiating sheer strength and dange r. Jason had always gotten unsettled when he couldn’t size up a threat or an ally. But when he looked for even a moment longer, it was obvious; the son of Hades wore his heart on his sleeve.
He was a teenager, just like the rest of them, who had had to be powerful for so long he hadn’t learned how to be anything else. Maybe they could help each other figure it out.
Jason looked at the hand offering him Diocletian’s scepter and shook his head. “There’s nothing to earn, Nico. You’re part of the team, and I’ll make sure we all remember that.” He wrapped a hand around the staff and pushed it gently away. “I said it before all of that, I’ve got your back, and I still mean it. And I trust you to have mine, too.”
Jason let go of the scepter, his heart sinking a little when Nico’s face went blank with surprise.
“Oh, okay.” He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly, and looked away from Jason. “I—thanks. That’s cool.”
“Cool,” Jason echoed. He nodded enthusiastically for a moment, then stopped, feeling like a bobblehead. They stood together in a silence that definitely wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t awkward anymore. Jason didn’t mind it at all.
“We should get back to the ship,” Nico said finally, his voice steady and unreadable once again.
“Yeah. I can fly us — ”
“Nope,” Nico announced. “This time we’re shadow-traveling. I’ve had enough of the winds for a while.” He held out a hand and tilted his chin. “How about that trust, Grace?”
Jason hesitated. “What’s shadow-travel like?”
Nico pretended to think for a moment. “Kind of like Cupid, I guess. Cold, suffocating, makes you throw up and regret your entire life. But it’s over a lot quicker.”
“Sounds like a treat.” Jason sighed, and clasped the outstretched hand. “That’s three jokes now, by the way. In case you were keeping track.”