Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12138708.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Percy_Jackson_and_the_Olympians_-_Rick_Riordan
  Relationship:
      Nico_di_Angelo/Percy_Jackson
  Character:
      Percy_Jackson, Nico_di_Angelo, Blackjack_(Percy_Jackson)
  Additional Tags:
      Quests, Road_Trips, Sex_Pollen
  Collections:
      Iddy_Iddy_Bang_Bang!_2017
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-19 Words: 19665
****** What Sweeter Fruit ******
by Cerberusia
Summary
     "Dude, I'm not letting you get hypothermia."
     Nico looked as if he'd rather risk hypothermia than share a sleeping
     bag with me. I knew he didn't like me much these days, though not
     why, but I felt that this was slightly excessive.
Notes
     Written for Iddy Iddy Bang Bang 2017! I wrote 500 words of this every
     day during the month of August, and then when September hit I got so
     busy that I've been rushing desperately to finish it in time. It just
     kept growing and growing! This is actually the longest fic I have
     ever written, and it is my shamelessly iddy baby. Please enjoy.
"Dude, I'm not letting you get hypothermia."
Nico looked as if he'd rather risk hypothermia than share a sleeping bag with
me. I knew he didn't like me much these days, though not why, but I felt that
this was slightly excessive.
"Look, this is standard procedure," I insisted, getting the blanket out of my
rucksack and spreading it over the sleeping bag. "We have to sleep, and we need
to share body heat." Even across the cave, I could see he was shivering. He was
so pale and skinny, he'd be lucky to get away with just hypothermia: I could
imagine him slipping into a sleep he'd never wake up from with horrible
clarity. He could hate me all he liked, but I wasn't going to let him die on my
watch. "What do you think I'm going to do to you," I asked in exasperation,
"molest you in your sleep?"
His cheeks flamed bright red for a minute, which the Underworld-induced
paleness made very obvious; but then he looked away and said, sullenly,
"No."
And I guess I won that one, because, reluctantly, he started taking off his
boots. He was a good inch shorter without them, and when he took off his big
aviator jacket he looked very small and young. I remembered him spilling out of
the bronze jar, ghost-pale and gaunt in the death-trance. I'd thought of it
often, in Tartarus, and felt guilty.
I'd already taken off my shoes and jacket, so I wriggled my way into the
sleeping bag and held it open for him. He made a face like I'd offered him
sheep's eyes, but he crawled in next to me and let me zip up the bag.
It was cozy. Very cozy.
The sleeping bag had some kind of mild enchantment on it to allow it to stretch
to fit some pretty large campers, but two whole people were still a tight
squeeze. I ended up with Nico's back pressed to my chest, my face in his hair.
He smelled like earth and just a little like the Underworld. I tried not to
think about the fact that I was basically spooning him. Nico was stiff as a
board next to me, so I guessed he was trying not to think about it either.
There was nothing I could do to make Nico more comfortable, so I just closed my
eyes and let the day's exertion wash over me. Blackjack was already fast asleep
a few feet away, still standing up. We'd agreed on a mix of Pegasus-back and
shadow-travel to travel cross-country, and both of them were tiring in
different ways.
Shadow-travelling was convenient and all, but it totally wiped Nico out, and we
were limited to making only short jumps. It was frustrating, for Nico
especially, but we didn't want to risk his health with longer jumps.
Correction: I didn't want to risk his health with longer jumps, or Will Solace
would never let me hear the end of it.
I wondered how everyone was getting on back at camp, the people who were still
there now autumn had come. It had only been a couple of days since we'd left,
but of course I'd started worrying the moment we flew out of sight on
Blackjack. We'd survived nearly being bombed back to the Bronze Age by Camp
Jupiter, but the close call had made me realise how fragile it all was.
Which was why we were on this quest in the first place. There was no prophecy
involved: Nico had just turned up at camp two months after vanishing without a
word - Jason had told us, quietly, what Nico had said to him in Croatia about
leaving forever - and announced to Chiron and Mr. D that he'd found something
near Camp Jupiter that would fortify the camp further. Some kind of flower - I
don't know, I wasn't paying attention.
The only reason I heard any of this was because I was up at the Big House to
talk with Chiron about my duties as Head Counsellor of Poseidon Cabin, given
that I was the only person who actually lived there, so my workload was kind of
light. We'd just agreed that I should take on chief responsibility for sword
training when I heard Nico talking to Mr. D in the kitchen. I nearly vaulted
Chiron's withers to get to the door.
That was the only reason I knew about it, you see: because I overheard them. If
I hadn't, he never would have come to say hello. We never would have known he'd
even come back. I said that to him in the kitchen - well, yelled it, actually,
I was pretty mad - and he narrowed his eyes and said,
"That was the point, Percy."
So I went with him to get this flower or whatever. Nico had tried to refuse
point-blank, but we'd all worn him down and in the end I'd simply stolen his
Stygian iron sword so he literally couldn't go without me. So here we were, day
two of our journey to California, in a freezing cave somewhere in the middle of
bumfuck nowhere, Illinois, because that was where his shadow-travel had dumped
us, and he still could hardly stand to look at me. I just wanted to know what
I'd done.
Nico had relaxed minutely beside me, but when I moved my hand so it was resting
on his arm rather than squished up against his back, he tensed up again like
I'd put it on his waist.
"Relax," I hissed in his ear. He was still shivering, just a little, and when
he didn't untense I really did put my arm around his waist and squeeze gently.
Well, maybe kind of firmly. I was tired and wanted to get to sleep, and I
couldn't do that until I was sure Nico wasn't going to expire of cold in the
night. I did not want to wake up to find a Nico-popsicle in my sleeping bag.
So of course Nico went absolutely rigid. I knew he wasn't exactly cuddly, but
he was doing a good impression of a Victorian maiden afraid for her virtue.
That made me imagine him in a white nightgown fleeing an abandoned castle in
the dead of night. Then I stopped imagining that, because it was breaking my
brain.
"Percy." That was what I had mentally dubbed the Stygian-iron-up-your-nose
voice. It made it slightly less frightening. For such a small, pale, scrawny
kid, Nico in a rage was absolutely terrifying. Even when he was on your side.
But I was too tired and just too done to be frightened. Nico wasn't going to do
me violence after he'd tried so hard to keep me alive. Besides, his arms and
legs were trapped by the sleeping bag, plus he was facing the wrong way to bite
me. So I said,
"Nico, you're still shivering. Just relax and let me warm you up." And I
consciously relaxed every muscle in my body, inviting sleep to carry me off.
Nico could have his cuddle-freakout in the morning: I just wanted to pass out
for the next eight hours, and I hadn't even done most of the work.
Nico made a muffled sound that was either a foreign swearword or an
inarticulate noise of despair. But after a long, awkward minute, I felt him
deliberately relax under my arm. Finally I was able to sleep.
I had weird dreams, of course. That always happens on quests. But these dreams
weren't like premonitions or like I was seeing what was happening at that
moment in a different place. Instead, they were of Jason and Nico in a stone-
walled room, their weapons drawn. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but
Jason looked alarmed and Nico looked anguished.
I didn't tell Nico about it when I woke up, though it left me feeling weird. Of
course, I could have told Nico pretty much anything I wanted when I woke up,
because he was still passed out. Reyna had mentioned that he slept like - well,
she hadn't wanted to say 'like the dead', but we were both thinking it. She'd
also suggested a gentle serenade of airhorns to rouse him, but I was pretty
sure she was joking.
So I shook his shoulder roughly to wake him up. This produced a small
'Aagggghhhh' noise and some groaning. I sympathised, but we had to get moving.
"C'mon, Nico, up and at 'em." I shook him again, trying not to make it obvious
that my morning wood was pressing against his ass. With some guys you can make
a joke about it and with some you can't, and I didn't know which one Nico was
yet.
Nico grumbled a bit, but fumbled the sleeping bag zip open and flopped onto the
ground, which at least allowed me to crawl out after him.
Five minutes later, he was propped up against the cave wall eating a
disgruntled cereal bar. I was rolling up my sleeping bag and trying to brush
the leaves off it. The downside of making a leaf mat when camping: you'll never
have a leaf-free sleeping bag ever again. Or a spider-free one.
"Is Hazel this bad in the morning?" I asked in fascination as he started to
list to one side. I didn't remember her falling asleep at the Argo's breakfast
table, but maybe she got up earlier to allow herself time to fully achieve
consciousness.
"Almost." Nico blinked heavily and righted himself. "Dad's worse," he added,
finishing his cereal bar.
Worse? If Hades was even less of a morning person than Nico, it was a wonder
anything got done in the Underworld before lunch. Styx, maybe it didn't. Time
did move differently down there, after all.
Though, I thought as I munched my own cereal bar, this was unusual even for
Nico, who slept heavily but yesterday had managed to drag himself into
wakefulness after a few minutes of bleary-eyed confusion. Either this was just
how he naturally functioned when he wasn't in a life-or-death situation, or
he'd slept badly last night. Looking at him more closely, I noticed that the
dark circles under his eyes, which hadn't been so bad when he'd turned up at
Camp a couple of days ago, were more pronounced.
We got moving soon after. Nico had woken up just enough to climb onto Blackjack
and cling to my waist. He'd been very hesitant to do that when we started out
two days ago, until I pointed out that it was the only reliable way to keep
from falling off, so he should hang on tight. Grudgingly, he'd wrapped his arms
around my waist. Now he just clung on and dozed with his face against my
shoulder. I guessed he was too sleepy to feel uncomfortable. Not a cuddly guy,
Nico - unless you were Hazel.
Away from the sun, boss? Blackjack asked me as we set off, his powerful wings
making eddies in the leaf litter.
"Sure," I confirmed. "Sleep well?"
Oh yeah. Weird dreams, though. I dreamt I was talking with giant carrots. Maybe
I was hungry!
"Blackjack, you're always hungry."
Blackjack was the third member of our quest team. He'd been kind of a last-
minute addition, because we needed transport that wasn't Nico's shadow-
travelling and he was the only pegasus that would give Nico a ride. I could
have taken Porkpie, I guess, but Blackjack was my pegasus. Plus I was afraid
that if I took my eyes off Nico he'd disappear to find the flower on his own
and we wouldn't see him for another six months. Blackjack had insisted that he
was strong enough to carry both me and that skinny Hades kid, so he had.
And to his credit, he'd done just fine with me, Nico and our backpacks - mine
the standard Camp issue orange, Nico's battered and black. I wondered whether
it was significant that the only pegasus who had taken to Nico was black, like
basically everything he owned. I guess if your dad is the god of the
Underworld, you either get with the Goth program or you dress entirely in
rainbows out of sheer spite. Last time I'd seen her, Hazel had seemed to be
trying that.
Beneath us, the landscape changed to open farmland. It was still far from where
we were headed, but it was pretty and peaceful to fly over on a late autumn
morning. Nico had woken up properly by now, and I could feel him looking right
and left to take in the scenery. Despite being strongly associated with the
earth and what was under it, he'd never suffered from Hazel's seasickness or
airsickness.
Though Hazel had no problems on Arion, which for most people felt kind of like
flying without actually being inside a plane, what with the feeling of your
insides being compressed and your face being peeled off. Apparently Pluto had a
connection with horses, which was probably why Hazel was so good with Arion,
along with her ability to provide him with his favourite snack. Did Hades have
a connection with horses, too?
Nico had never told me - I mean, he didn't tell me anything that wasn't quest-
related - that he had any opinon on horses or pegasi one way or the other, but
Blackjack had told me that he'd received the occasional extra carrot and pats
from Nico before he'd disappeared. I remembered Blackjack telling me years ago
that the pegasi didn't like Nico because he smelled like death, and that
Blackjack himself had only agreed to carry him with great reluctance. Blackjack
was special to me, obviously, but I'd never considered that he might be special
to Nico as well.
"Hey, Blackjack," I said, and Blackjack's ears swivelled towards me to indicate
that he was listening. "How's Poptart doing? Eight months off the big event,
right?"
Seven months and three weeks, boss! Blackjack's voice was gleeful. The old
lady's doing fine, just fine. Says she gets all the best hay over there.
"Blackjack's girlfriend is in foal," I explained to Nico over the rushing wind.
"She's Skippy's sister, so she lives over at Camp Jupiter. Love at first sight,
apparently."
Nico snorted in my ear. "Cute," he said.
We're super cute, confirmed Blackjack smugly. And our foal is going to be cuter
than the two of us combined! I bet it's gonna have it's mom's eyes, he added
dreamily. I left him to it. I wondered, would the foal be chestnut like
Poptart, or black like Blackjack? Or maybe bay? I didn't know how pegasi
colours worked - we only had white and black ones at Camp Half-Blood. It would
be cute, though, I had to admit. I'd never seen a baby pegasus, but I'd see
pictures of ordinary baby horses, and they were adorable even without little
fluffy wings.
We touched down just outside some tiny one-horse town so Blackjack could have a
couple of hours' break and we could have lunch. We were in Iowa by now, and
still the rolling cornfields spread on in all directions. The buildings weren't
in pristine condition, but it didn't look like a total dive, just a little
worn, so we left Blackjack grazing some farmer's pasture and went in search of
a diner.
Looking back, I should never have expected it all to go smoothly. But we'd
defeated Gaea several months earlier, and we hadn't encountered any monsters
yet, which was surely a good sign. I let myself hope that maybe they were all
taking a break. They couldn't have got out of Tartarus yet, right?
Yeah, wrong. But we didn't know that yet, walking into Nitchville, Iowa,
population: 2000. It was kind of cute, actually, with lots of old-fashioned
wood buildings. Just a small, sleepy farming community in the middle of nowhere
in the Midwest.
I said as much to Nico, who snorted.
"Percy, you're from New York," he pointed out. "Anything smaller than Manhattan
looks tiny to you." That was true, but I felt like chatting after a few hours
of enforced silence in the air. To carry on a conversation on pegasus-back, you
had to either shout over the wind or turn your head to speak into the other
person's ear, and both options got tiring fast. So I said,
"Hey, it's not like Venice is small." I'd never been to Venice, but we'd done
The Merchant of Venice in English class and apparently it was a big deal.
Nico's nose wrinkled.
"Not big enough for all the tourists who come," he said in distaste.
"Worse than New York?" I grew up there. Trust me, I know all about the pains of
tourists. I'm still kind of surprised that there's no section of the Fields of
Punishment that's made to look like Times Square, crammed with sunburned
tourists that come up to ask you for directions to the Statue of Liberty every
five minutes. Maybe I should suggest it to Nico and have him pass it on to his
dad.
"Way worse." Nico's tone suggested that he'd like to provide his own, terminal
solution to the problem. To be honest, I couldn't imagine anything worse than
all the tourists in Times Square, unless it was the crowds of them in Central
Park. Venice must really be something else.
So we walked up the main street and found the town's only diner. It wasn't
hard: it bore a sign naming it as the Mighty Leap Diner, which I thought was
kind of a weird name for a diner. But we were both hungry, and I guess hunger
blunts my sense of self-preservation (though Annabeth would tell me I have no
such thing), because in we went without a second thought.
It was your typical small-town diner. Not that I've been in many. I'm just
going off what I see on the TV. Checkerboard walls, tacky Americana decor, and
red plastic booths. We sank into one near the door. I stretched my legs out
under the table, stiff from being on horseback for the past few hours, and
gently bumped Nico's as he did the same thing. Neither of us was feeling polite
enough to move, so a bit of my calf was pressed to Nico's. I didn't mind: Nico
usually wouldn't even accept a friendly hand on his arm unless he was injured,
so I hoped it was a sign that he was feeling less closed-off after we'd had to
share a sleeping-bag. Forced togetherness and all that.
The waitress who came to serve us looked safely human, though she'd gone pretty
heavy on the peroxide and fake tan for a woman who was clearly the wrong side
of fifty. She smiled broadly and, yep, unnaturally white teeth. But they were
human teeth, not fangs, and she didn't rip out the table to get to our throats
more easily, so as far as I cared she could embalm herself in as much fake tan
as she wanted.
I ordered a cheeseburger, and Nico did the same. It's something that every
diner has, and it saves me from having to try to read the menu. For some
reason, diner menus don't tend to have an Ancient Greek translation. We didn't
talk while we waited for them to arrive, and we didn't talk while we stuffed
them into our mouths. We were the only people in the diner, and the cool spring
sunlight coming through the window made the silence feel fragile.
I considered Nico over my burger. He wasn't paying any attention to me while
there was food on his plate - after a month of barely eating when we'd rescued
him from the jar, his appetite had come back with a vengeance. And I can tell
you, a hungry Nico is a cranky Nico.
He was still pale, but normal Italian-pale, not the greenish-white he'd been
when he came out of the jar. I didn't know where he'd been for the past two
months, but I didn't think it was the Underworld. He wasn't scarily skinny any
more either. He just looked like himself again, maybe with slightly shorter
hair. It still looked messy, and I bet he'd cut it himself.
The hair, shadows under his eyes and dark clothes gave him a permanently
rumpled look, and I wondered what the waitress saw when she looked at us. We
didn't look like brothers, but we were technically cousins on the godly side,
so maybe there was some resemblance? Then again, Jason was cousin to both of us
on that side, and neither of us looked a thing like him. So long as we didn't
look like teen runaways or like I'd abducted Nico, I guessed it was all fine.
Of course, it wasn't fine. This is the demigod life, remember? There's always
something that wants make your spleen into a fancy hat.
"Refill, sweetie?" I didn't even have to turn. I recognised that voice. I'd
heard it a few too many times. I looked up into the monstrous face of Stheno.
It was slightly depressing that I'd faced these guys enough to tell them apart.
The security in Tartarus really needed tightening up.
On the bright side, at least the Gorgons had let us finish our lunch before
they attacked us. Fighting monsters on an empty stomach sucks.
I uncapped Riptide and swung it at her neck. I trusted Nico to dodge - Styx,
I'd be surprised if Nico was still sitting there. The bronze blade sliced
through the Gorgon's neck and her head toppled off. Unlike the last time we'd
met, she wouldn't be getting up.
There was a shriek from behind Stheno - Euryale, her sister. Stheno's body
dropped to the floor just in time for Euryale to tear the Coke nozzle out of
the machine and direct it at me, spraying me full-force with sticky soft drink.
I staggered backward a few steps and she leapt over the counter, mouth open
wide, fangs directed at my throat.
She didn't make it. Nico materialised right in front of her and I watched his
Stygian iron sword slam right into her chest, her own momentum driving her onto
its point. I stepped over Stheno's goopily dissolving body and finished off her
sister the same way. It pays to make sure with monsters: as Clarisse put it to
the Ares cabin when I overheard her instructing them in spear drills, always
double-tap.
We stood in the middle of the diner, chairs knocked askew and Coke all over the
linoleum floor, watching as the two Gorgons dissolved to leave only vials of
their blood.
"Healing on the right, poison on the left," I said when Nico bent to pick up
Euryale's. He nodded and put them into the respective pockets of his jacket. I
did the same. I didn't want to get those confused.
"Is it just me," I said as we surveyed the destruction, "or are we getting
better at this?" I'd had way more trouble with the Gorgons in the past. Getting
rid of them this time had taken less than five minutes.
Nico shrugged. "I guess we'd have to." He was looking at Lake Coca-Cola instead
of at me. "We've had plenty of practice."
"True." I recapped Riptide and Nico sheathed his sword. It wasn't concealed by
his jacket, but nobody had ever seemed to notice the teenage boy carrying a big
black sword around in public, so I guessed it must be the Mist at work again.
I wasn't sure the Mist would cover this up, though.
"Hey, ready to leave before the waitress gets back?"
Nico was already pulling bills out of his wallet. We didn't run out of the
Mighty Leap Diner - and now I realised, duh - but we definitely strode rather
than sauntered, if you get my drift. Fortunately nobody was about to notice us
except some old guy who nodded at us and didn't even blink at my Coke-soaked
shirt.
Woah, boss! What happened to you? Blackjack looked up from contentedly munching
grass and swished his tail.
"Gorgons. We totally owned them, but they owned my shirt first." I peeled my
sticky, soaked shirt away from my chest and grimaced. "There's a river just
over there, and I guess I'm washing in it."
And I'm thirsty, Blackjack helpfully interjected. Right, pegasi needed plenty
of water, just like horses.
After a moment, I took off my jacket and pulled the shirt over my head and off
entirely. I could have got the water out, but all that sugar - ugh, no. I was
seriously sticky. I looked over at Nico. "Sorry, but at least this way you get
more of a break."
Nico just shrugged. He wasn't just not looking at me, he was not looking in a
way that felt deliberate. Was he angry? No, I recognised that fixed stare. It
was what I did when one day Clarisse had had to strip down to her bra next to
me on the training field. I wished I didn't remember that, actually, but it was
seared into my memory through trauma.
"Nico, we're both guys. You don't need to worry about my maidenly modesty or
anything." Nico's ears went delicately pink and he looked me in the eye at last
- though not at my bare chest. His prudishness was ridiculous, but also kind of
funny. I was tempted to wade into the river naked, just to see what colours he
turned.
"Whatever," he said. "Let's go find this river."
The river was only half a mile away. Nico and I walked next to each other and
Blackjack meandered along behind us, idly commenting on the quality of the
grass. It was a mild autumn day, so I wasn't cold. Nico, as ever, was bundled
up in his battered brown aviator jacket. I knew he'd lost his old one to a
werewolf attack, so this must be a replacement.
We passed some birds sitting on a fence. They were tiny black and white round
things, and they twittered as we walked by. I'd like to say that I
automatically suspected them of being enemy spies, because that sounds badass,
but to be honest I just thought they were kind of cute.
"Hey, if I can understand horses and fish, do you think Jason can understand
birds?"
Nico raised an eyebrow. I was envious - I couldn't do that. If I tried, I just
looked like I had a facial tic.
"No idea. Ask him when we get to Camp Jupiter." His tone didn't imply that he
was wondering whether I really did have kelp between my ears, but that was a
typical Nico-answer: bland and unengaged. Whenever I tried to start a
conversation, he didn't outright tell me to shove it: he just refused to pick
up the conversational football and instead let it deflate on the ground between
us. We never managed to exchange more than a handful of sentences.
To be honest, it was starting to piss me off. Just out of spite, I really did
take off the rest of my clothes when we got to the river. I had second thoughts
halfway through, mainly over the possibility of being ambushed while in a state
of undress, but Nico's choked cough behind me made it worth it. Served him
right, I thought viciously. If I could cope with him being deliberately closed-
off, he could cope with getting a glimpse of my ass.
The water made me feel better, as always. I dived beneath its clear blue
surface in case any of the Coke had got in my hair, and opened my eyes. It was
only a small river, and while it wasn't the cleanest section of water I'd ever
been in, it definitely wasn't the dirtiest. I could see to the bottom, which
was littered with cans and garbage. I wrinkled my nose and decided I could stay
floating up here. At least there were still fish flitting about, apparently
healthy.
Son of the sea god! they said as they swam close to me. Yeah, I'm a minor
celebrity to aquatic creatures. I know you're envious.
I broke the surface again to check that Nico hadn't just shadow-travelled away
in exasperation. That was the kind of thing he might do. But he was just
waiting on the shore, water lapping at his boots as he eyed the river
mistrustfully. He carefully wasn't looking at me.
Out of the corner of my eye, something moved. Something big. Oh, Styx, I really
shouldn't have stripped off. Riptide waited for me in the pocket of my jeans,
safely on the bank. All I was carrying was my t-shirt, which I'd meant to wash.
But water was my element. I took a deep breath and felt for the current.
Whatever it was, I could catch it.
It was a man. A man was wading out of the river, fully-clothed but dry. Nico
had his sword out, but the stranger just turned to me and said,
"Howdy." And he touched the brim of his hat. His face was fair and
weatherbeaten, and he wore fisherman's waders. He looked like the kind of guy
who enjoyed a long hike through nature followed by a game of golf.
"Cedar River," I said, stupidly. You'd think I'd be used to meeting river
spirits by now after all the naiads at Camp, but nope, still a massive surprise
every time. I made to follow him out of the water, then remembered that I still
wasn't wearing any clothes. I didn't know whether the personification of a
river would care about that, but I decided to stay where I was and try not to
think about the fact that I was in him.
"That's me." He stuck his thumbs in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
"You boys travelling far?"
"Calfornia, sir." I could tell he liked being called sir. Demigod lesson: the
more minor the god, the more important it is that they feel respected. The
Olympians can laugh stuff off because they know they're at the top of the heap.
The little guys know every ounce of respect that's their due, and it all goes a
lot smoother if you just give it to them.
"California, huh? That's a long way." Cedar River looked westwards over my
shoulder like he was estimating the distance.
I shrugged. Behind the river spirit, Nico had put away his sword but still
looked wary.
"That's where we've got to go. Central Valley."
Cedar River's bushy eyebrows went up.
"Sacramento and San Joaquim? If you got business with them, take my advice,
son: don't bother." He snorted. "I'd be surprised if Joe even bothers to come
meetcha."
"Nothing to do with them, as far as I know. But, uh, we'll take that advice,
sir." I didn't know what the matter with either of the rivers in question was,
except maybe pollution. It's usually pollution. Though if they were nastier
than the Hudson Bay, I'd be impressed.
"Mm-hm." Cedar River studied me for a minute. Then he turned to glance over his
shoulder at Nico. "Well, you boys take care," he said. He raised his hand,
touched the brim of his hat again, and turned around to stroll right back into
the river. Nico and I both watched as his head sank beneath the waves. It was
like he'd never been there at all.
On the bank, Nico was raising his eyebrows in an expression that said What in
Hades was that about? I shrugged.
"I think he just wanted a chat. Sometimes water spirits like to come and size
me up as Dad's son." I was still immersed in the river in question and still
not wearing any clothes. Nico seemed to realise that at the same time as I did,
because his gaze suddenly slid to one side and his face went very pink. He
stared fixedly into the middle distance as I dried off, wrung the water out of
my shirt, and got dressed again. I felt so awkward that I nearly fell over
trying to put my jeans on.
"Des Moines, right?" I asked when I'd managed to get all my clothes on without
completely embarrassing myself.
"Des Moines," Nico confirmed. "Or somewhere in that direction. Long-distance
shadow-travelling isn't always precise."
"Go west, young man," I said, and got a weird look. Nico passed for a modern
teenager so well that I usually forgot that he was completely ignorant of any
pop culture after the 1930s. Apart from Mythomagic, of course. "Yeah, I forgot
you missed Elvis."
"Presley? I've heard of him." Nico frowned. "Is he really famous?"
"He's known as 'The King of Rock and Roll'. Take a guess." I climbed onto
Blackjack and helped Nico get up behind me.
"Pretty famous, then." Nico wrapped his arms around my waist. I put one of my
hands tight over his and clung to Blackjack's mane with the other. I wasn't
sure whether you could 'fall off' during shadow-travel, but I didn't want to
risk it. With one powerful beat of his wings, Blackjack took us aloft.
"I'll introduce you to his music some time," I said. And then we were off.
As usual, shadow-travel felt like my insides were being squeezed through a tube
while I plunged down a steep drop on a rollercoaster. Nico told me you get used
to it, but I think he might have been lying to make me feel better.
No, scratch that: Nico doesn't lie to make anyone feel better. When Zeus or
whoever was handing out tact, Nico was in the bathroom. Lying to get us to
cross the country more efficiently, on the other hand, was possible-to-likely.
We emerged above a carpet of green and crowds of people. I'm glad to say none
of them happened to be looking up.
Nice, said Blackjack. Green.
After a moment, I realised that the green bits were loads and loads of plants,
all arranged in beds. I looked up: above us was a glass dome. Behind me, Nico
swore in Ancient Greek.
"On the bright side, we're in Des Moines. On the...dark side, we're inside.
Hang on."
Another shadow-travel jump, and another opportunity for my stomach to remind me
exactly what I'd eaten so far today. I swallowed hard as we emerged in mid-air,
this time outside what proclaimed itself to be the Des Moines Botanical Garden.
Blackjack swooped in to land, moaning about enduring two shadow-travel jumps in
the space of a minute. I sympathised.
"Hey, Nico," I said as we climbed off the pegasus, me with slightly wobbly
legs. "When you told me I would 'get used' to shadow-travelling: was that a
lie, or am I just slow?"
"I got used to it pretty quickly. It tires me out, but it hasn't made me feel
sick since maybe the second time I did it?" Nico shrugged. "I assumed other
people would take a longer time to adjust, but maybe if you're not me or Hazel
it's always going to feel unnatural." There was something weird about his voice
on the word 'unnatural'. I frowned, but he'd already turned away to scan the
area.
"The river's in that direction." I pointed. It's a great thing about being the
son of Poseidon: I can always sense the nearest water source. I know it doesn't
sound that cool or impressive, but when you draw strength from bodies of water,
in a fight it can be a matter of life and death. "You can sit on a bench and
I'll talk to the river or something." Nico hadn't just lain down right there to
take a nap, which was a good sign, but he looked even sleepier and more rumpled
than usual.
"Mm-hm." Nico ran his fingers through his hair - getting them caught in several
tangles on the way - and motioned for me to lead on. Yeah, he needed a break.
Nico is never that docile unless he's literally too tired to argue.
This is water I can drink, right, Boss? Blackjack asked suspiciously. Honestly,
you accidentally offer a pegasus salt water one time...
"Technically, but I'm not sure you'd want to." In my experience, rivers that
flow through cities are pretty nastily polluted. It also made the river spirits
bad-tempered, which meant that despite what I'd told Nico, I wasn't that keen
on meeting the Des Moines River. Still, I wanted to stay pretty close to the
water in case we met something nastier than the Gorgons.
In the end, we didn't meet anything. Nico curled up on a bench, knees drawn up,
and promptly passed out. I sat next to him, watching Blackjack investigate the
water quality. A few people came past us, but they paid us no attention. The
exceptions were a mother and her small daughter, who were taking a slow walk
along the river bank. The daughter, who I guess was maybe three or four years
old, exclaimed, "The horse has WINGS!" when she saw Blackjack taking a cautious
sip of the river. Her mother laughed.
"No, Ellie, that's a dog! A doggie!" I saw her squeeze the little girl's hand
affectionately. "You do have a big imagination!"
"HORSE," Ellie stubbornly insisted. It had never occurred to me before that
normal small children might be able to see through the Mist, but when I thought
about it, it wasn't surprising.
Blackjack had some choice words about the Mist choosing to disguise him as a
dog, and about the taste of the Des Moines River, but I pointed out that
anything even vaguely equine would look pretty out of place in downtown Des
Moines. Plus, I sometimes think the Mist has a sense of humour. I still
remember it disguising Mrs. O'Leary - who, let me remind you, is a black
mastiff-like hellhound about the size of a Hummer - as a poodle. It took me
weeks to live that one down.
Above us, the sun was starting to sink lower in the sky. We'd have to get going
soon to make Nebraska by nightfall. I'd already decided that we were going to
take Blackjack, not shadow-travel.
I looked over at Nico. He'd pulled up his knees and rested his head on them,
and I could see his sleeping face over the sleeve of his jacket. He stopped
frowning when he slept. It made him look his age, or maybe a little younger: he
was small for fifteen.
I could hardly believe that Nico was fifteen now. It was autumn, and the school
year had started: but instead of being in freshman Calculus, here he was with
me. As far as I knew, he'd stopped attending school at ten, though he'd told me
his dad had made him agree to be tutored by ghosts.
I thought it sounded like a pretty sweet deal: having gone through high school,
I'd take ghostly tutors any day. Gym class was one of the few times I wished I
really had chosen to stay at Camp all year round.
Nico looked very small and lonely, curled up there on the bench. He seemed
delicate, even though we both knew that he was as strong as me or Jason.
What do you dream about? I wondered. The same things as I dreamed about,
probably. Ghosts, Tartarus, and the occasional stupid but vivid dream featuring
Jason and Octavian celebrating some Roman ritual by solemnly doing the hula on
top of the Camp Half Blood lava wall.
I didn't really want to wake him up, but we had to make Nebraska by nightfall.
So I reached out to shake him awake, vigorously if needed. I'd seen him sleep
through a kazoo before.
But I didn't touch his shoulder, even though it was right there. Instead I
gently put my hand on his head, cupping the curve of his skull. Carefully, I
combed his silky black hair out of his face with my fingers. He didn't stir. It
turned out his hair really was as soft as it looked.
Then I stopped being a weirdo, cleared my throat, and shook his bony shoulder
with slightly more force than necessary. Nico opened his eyes blearily and
hissed at me. Then he seemed to realise where we were and what was going on,
because he lifted his head to stare at the river like he was checking it was
still there.
"Nebraska?" he asked after a moment of swallowing.
"Nebraska," I confirmed. "It's time we were gone."
Blackjack was full of energy, and full of complaints about the Des Moines River
and the people who put nasty things in it. I agreed with him, but really hoped
that the river god wasn't listening. That would not be a good way to end our
time in Iowa.
We flew west, towards the setting sun. This meant the sun was in my eyes, so I
mainly looked down instead of forward. There were great tracts of yellow and
green farmland occasionally dotted with settlements, or broken up entirely by a
city and its suburbs. Don't get me wrong, I'm a city guy through and through:
but flying over endless rolling fields under a sunny sky made me understand why
people get the urge to move out to 'the country'. There's a stillness out
there, like you might go days without meeting another human being, and there'd
be birdsong wherever you went.
It would drive me totally crazy after a day, of course. I'd be so lonely I'd
have to talk to myself. It's just not my kind of thing. But spread out beneath
Blackjack's powerful wings as he bore us westward, it had a sun-dappled
seductive power.
Nebraska was quiet, and we flew in silence. Like I said before, it's difficult
to do otherwise. Ahead of us, the sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky.
I could feel Nico leaning more heavily against my back, like he'd forgotten to
feel weird about physical contact. It was nice, actually, but it meant we
needed to find somewhere to land before we seized up in this position. Luckily,
on pegasus-back, landing is simply a case of finding a suitable spot and
telling Blackjack where to go.
It's not always an exact science, especially when you're trying to fend off
monsters at the same time - I swear, I could teach a class on aerial combat at
Camp - but the pegasi know what they're doing, so at worst you overshoot by a
block. This time, it was just fine.
We were flying over a town, so I just directed Blackjack down, and down we
went. The sudden descent made my stomach swoop like it had the one and only
time I'd experienced a plane landing, and I felt Nico squeeze my waist a bit
tighter. It reminded me of how I'd stroked his hair this morning, and I felt
kind of embarrassed. Thanks, ADHD and its associated lack of impulse control.
But his hair had been soft and silky.
The town wasn't much bigger than the one we'd had lunch with in Iowa, but it
was cuter: more stone buildings about and something a little old-fashioned
about it all. More money, I guess. We landed in about the centre of town, next
to a little stone bandstand, and none of the few passers-by paid any attention
to two teenaged demigods or the flying horse who'd brought us. The wonders of
the Mist.
"Sorry, buddy," I told Blackjack, "there's no water source here." Blackjack
could go a lot longer without water than a normal horse, but I still felt bad.
Maybe we could find a bucket and fill it with tap water.
Blackjack snorted contemptuously. Humans! Why would you settle somewhere
without a river?
"Beats me." I sure wouldn't.
Nico had already slid off the pegasus' back, and I followed him. Well, I was
sure getting an education in small-town America. I'd seen more of the flyover
states since I turned twelve than I could ever have dreamed. So far, I'd found
that most of them basically looked the same, and that I kind of missed New
York.
We headed off down what looked like a main street, looking for somewhere to
stay. I was surprised when I looked at my watch and found that it was only
eight P.M. Nebraska time, but pegasus travel has this way of compressing time.
"Is it just me," Nico began - and I jumped, because he hadn't spoken since Iowa
- "or are there an awful lot of people around?"
Now, my idea of how crowded public places should usually be might not match up
with other people's if they don't live somewhere like New York City. But even
to my eyes, there were an unusually large number of people hanging around.
"For eight at night in a small town like this, the place is packed." Nico was
looking around dubiously. "What do you want to bet there's some kind of
festival for hillbillies going on here?"
"Not sure this is the right place for hillbillies, but I think you're onto
something." The crowds grew thicker as we went on, which I was pretty sure
meant we were getting closer to the center of town. And despite what I'd just
said about hillbillies, there were an awful lot of cowboy hats about. On the
bright side, there were also a bunch of food stalls, which enabled us to get
dinner. Nico and I both get seriously cranky without food.
At least we worked out where we were: Broken Bow, Nebraska, population 3,559
and the county seat of Custer County. Unfortunately, this didn't help us so
much, because next to the sign proclaiming all this was another sign
advertising a country music weekend - happening right now. That explained the
cowboy hats.
It also didn't bode well for our accomodation. I was hoping for a motel bed and
particularly a motel shower, rather than the collapsible Camp Half Blood tent
in my backpack. It's had its moments - I get all nostalgic when the thing pops
up - but at heart, I'm just not really a camping guy.
So we made for the outskirts of town, where the ground was sandy and there was
a big highway, hoping for a motel. And we found one: Gateway Motel 1. I spent
way too long trying to work out whether this was like the Mighty Leap Diner.
Could the 'gateway' be the gates to the Underworld? Was a gate enough like a
door that Janus might pop up? I walk into traps all the time because of my
total lack of mythological knowledge all the time, but I'm trying to get
better. Half the time I still walk in anyway, but at least I know I'm walking
into a trap, which kind of makes it better. Sometimes.
In the end, it turned out to be a perfectly normal motel. I kept an eye out for
Minotaur-leg umbrella stands or any sign that the desk attendant might be an
empousa, but no: just your normal slightly-nicer-than-average motel.
Of course, there was still a problem. The problem was the room, and the damn
hillbillies-slash-country-music-enthusiasts.
"We've only got one room left," said the attendant apologetically, "and I'm
afraid it's only one bed. It is a queen, though," she added hopefully, glancing
between us as if trying to size up whether we would both fit. I was pretty sure
that if we'd fit in that sleeping bag then we'd fit in a queen-sized bed, but I
wasn't about to say that in front of her.
Nico just looked more dead than usual. Neither of us could complain: if there
were no more rooms, then there were no more rooms, and getting mad at the desk
attendant who probably only made minimum wage wouldn't help. It was a room with
a bed and a shower. We could put up with it for one night.
"Fine," I said as graciously as I could. The desk attendant looked relieved.
And that was how Nico and I ended up sharing a bed in a Nebraska motel.
It's not like it's that weird to share a bed with a bed with your male friend,
I guess. If you're pre-teens. And actually friends. I mean, I kept trying to be
Nico's friend, but he wouldn't let me, so we were kind of stuck as distant
acquaintances who kept saving each other's lives.
So yeah, it was kind of weird. The last person I'd shared a bed with was
Annabeth, and, literal bed-sharing aside, the two situations were in no way
comparable. Though Nico probably wished Annabeth were here instead of me. I
kind of wished Annabeth were here instead of me. Nico liked her better and
she'd know what to say.
Nico took the first shower while I contacted Camp. Wouldn't want Chiron to
worry that we'd been eaten by the Hydra back in Iowa or something, though it
would disappoint Mr. D, who no doubt was hoping that we had been eaten.
It was too dark to use the sun to make a rainbow, so I got out my torch, a
white t-shirt and a tiny mist-maker, plus the glass of water I'd grabbed from
the bathroom earlier. It doesn't make as big a screen as a carwash or a
fountain, but it's a lot more portable.
Chiron was in horse-form when he answered, with a quiver slung over his back.
He looked a lot less grey than he had the last time I'd seen him, and his beard
and coat looked shiny and groomed. The effect was pretty impressive, even with
the teacher glasses and button-down shirt. He looked like the guy who'd taught
Achilles everything he knew.
He didn't like the Gorgon sisters turning up, but agreed that if they were the
only monsters we'd encountered so far, we were doing well.
"Was it really that easy?" he asked sceptically when I recounted the battle.
"Yeah, it was." I was slightly offended that he didn't think we were capable of
it. "I was surprised too, but I guess Nico and I work well together." We had
done in the past too, just like me and Jason, and I guess probably Jason and
Nico too.
"Hm." Chiron stroked his beard. "Maybe the Gorgons have been weakened by Gaia's
defeat."
I gave up.
"Yeah, maybe," I said in a way that suggested I thought it was unlikely.
"Anyway, we've gotta crash now. I'll message Camp again when we've got this
flower-thing." Chiron's eyes narrowed at the words 'flower-thing', and I
hastily broke the connection. He didn't need to know that I still wasn't
perfectly sure what we'd come all this way for.
"Bathroom's free," said Nico behind me, making me jump about a foot. Somebody
should put a bell on that kid. I swear he does it deliberately.
Nico had come out of the bathroom without me noticing. His hair was wet, but he
was fully dressed again. I can't say that I find sleeping in jeans all that
comfortable, but if that was how he wanted it, I wasn't going to say anything.
I didn't want to get my head bitten off.
A shower made me feel better in the same way as my dip in the Cedar River had
earlier. Sure, I like getting clean as much as the next guy, but it's more than
that. When I'm surrounded by my own element, it's like the water is healing
injuries I didn't even know were there. I'd spent a month in Dad's palace after
we defeated Gaia. It helped with the nightmares.
I didn't want to hog the bathroom, but Nico was done, and I had, you know,
other needs. I closed my eyes and didn't think of anything in particular for a
few minutes. It was only the normal thing for a teenage boy to do after two
days on the road with no privacy. For all I knew, Nico has been doing the exact
same thing in here ten minutes ago.
Of course, I'd forgotten to take my clothes into the bathroom with me, so I had
to come out in only a towel and a cloud of steam. Nico was sitting on one side
of the bed, minus his boots, reading a small book with a colourful dustjacket.
He looked up, caught sight of my bare chest, and quickly looked down at his
book again. I was in a good mood, so I just found his unexpected
prudishness...quaint, I guess. It reminded me that he'd been born in the same
era as Hazel.
I guess I could have taken my clothes into the bathroom and got dressed there,
but I didn't feel like it. We were about to share a bed: me putting on my
underwear on one side of the room while he stared fixedly at his book on the
other was no more than I'd done with other guys in the room before.
Besides, Nico might as well get used to shirtless guys, because he was going to
see a lot of them when I convinced him or dragged him back to Camp. Some of the
Apollo guys in particular aren't shy about letting it all hang out on warm
days. I think I've seen more of Will Solace's bare chest than I have
Annabeth's. When he's not in scrubs, the guy's practically an exhibitionist.
Will had kept asking after Nico, actually, when he vanished. I'd felt bad that
I never had any news for him. Of course, now that I had him I could deliver him
direct to the medical tent where Will would no doubt keep him captive until he
was satisfied Nico wasn't about to dissolve into shadow.
Yeah, I'd heard about that from Reyna. It was another reason I'd insisted on
taking Blackjack rather than just relying on Nico's shadow-travel. That, and
how I don't like the feeling of my internal organs being squeezed through a
keyhole.
I hadn't said anything about it to Nico, of course. He wouldn't stop shadow-
travelling just because I asked, and he didn't want my sympathy. If I said I
was worried about it, he'd just blow me off like he did when I tried to talk to
him before he took the Athena Parthenos. I hadn't said anything to set him off
yet, and I really wanted to keep it that way. I was tired of fighting with him
when I hadn't wanted a fight in the first place. I've never exactly been
renowned for my subtlely, but with Nico you have to go softly-softly. Or at
least you do if you're me.
We managed to get into bed with the minimum amount of awkwardness we could
manage. I hadn't put my jeans on, and Nico hadn't taken his off. I guess it
takes all kinds, though personally I've had to sleep in jeans enough times that
my modesty isn't worth the discomfort.
I spared a thought for Blackjack, who had flown off in search of the nearest
woodland and hopefully a river. I could hardly believe that he was going to be
a dad. To be honest, I was slightly more excited about the baby pegasus on the
way than I would have liked to admit. I felt like I was going to be an uncle,
and my niece or nephew was going to be a lot cuter than any human baby I'd ever
seen.
I'm pretty sure Nico fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. We'd
started out facing away from each other, but I turned over and considered him
in the grey half-light of the motel room. He'd curled up in a ball under the
covers, like he was protecting himself even in sleep.
You don't have to do that, I wanted to tell him. You don't have to be strong
all the time. I'll protect you.
I'd always felt that way about Nico - protective. Even when he was an annoying
ten year old who wouldn't shut up or stop asking uncomfortable questions, I
definitely had the nagging sense I should look after him. The age gap was only
three years, but he'd been a little kid and I was a teenager.
Then Bianca had died inside that Talos, and I had to break the news. And after
that, I'd felt responsible for him. Whatever happened, wherever I was, Nico
always crossed my mind. Where was he? What was he doing? I was always happy to
see him, even though it always meant that things were about to get
exponentially more complicated, because it proved he was still alive. And along
the way I stopped thinking of him as a kid, or three years younger than me,
even though he was. He seemed to become weirdly grown-up almost overnight.
I was still protective of him, though. I worried about him. It was stupid,
because he was tough - at least as tough as me once he'd got in enough practice
with shadow-travelling and skeleton-summoning that he could do it without
passing out. But he was still shorter and skinnier and paler than the rest of
us, with huge dark eyes, and I guess maybe that triggered some kind of demented
nurturing instinct.
It wasn't just because of the promise I'd made to Bianca, though that was part
of it. I still remembered Nico as a chatty, excitable, kind of geeky ten year
old, and I felt responsible for the way he was now. I didn't get Bianca killed,
I know that, but I kept feeling like I'd let Nico down in some way, or that he
felt I had. After Bianca's ghost showed me Nico in the Underworld, I felt like
that was a hint: I trust you to stop him from making bad choices.
But then, I'd made some pretty bad choices myself. I looked at the gulf of
bedsheets between us, and closed my eyes. The busy day crashed over me, and
quickly pulled me down into sleep.
I had the dream about Jason and Nico again. Same place, same scene. Jason
looked startled and concerned. Nico kept blinking and biting his lip, and I
realised that he was on the verge of tears. Jason made a face like he was upset
and didn't know what to do. I felt the same way.
Next thing I knew, it was morning and I was heavy. Correction: there was
something heavy on me. I opened my eyes to find my face buried in silky black
hair. Well, well, who'd have thought it: Nico di Angelo, sleep cuddler. He had
his arm round my waist and an icy foot between my calves. Somebody get this kid
some bedsocks.
I shifted my legs and realised that he must have taken off his jeans at some
point. I wasn't surprised: seriously, jeans make very bad pyjamas.
I wriggled a bit more to get my arm somewhere it wasn't being bent at a weird
angle, and found that we were now in an even more awkward position. My morning
wood was pressing into his stomach, and I was pretty sure that was his morning
wood pressing into my hip. Yeah, I really should have seen that coming. You put
a guy in bed with another warm body, and his dick will have an opinion.
I tried to wriggle out of Nico's limpet-like embrace, but the guy was sound
asleep and I guess he was probably dreaming of Annabeth or Reyna or something,
because he would not let me go. I didn't really want to wake him up by shaking
him, because if he thought me taking off my shirt in front of him was pushing
the limits of decency, he might just up and die of embarrassment if he woke up
to find our boners practically touching.
Screw it, I eventually decided, after failing to unwind his arms from my torso.
Blackjack hadn't turned up yet, and we both needed to be at full strength to
make this cross-country journey without getting killed. No boners were actually
touching. I could cope with this. I closed my eyes, ignored the awkward
position we were in, and drifted back into sleep with Nico attached to me like
a koala.
It was heavy and hot but also, though I would never have told him so, kind of
cute. I'm not cuddly like Jason, who likes to literally sweep people off their
feet and break their ribs; but I felt that maybe I owed Nico a few hugs, and he
definitely wasn't going to ask for them when he was awake.
When I woke up again, Blackjack was rapping on the window with a stick he was
holding in his mouth, and Nico was in the bathroom. It was time for us to be on
the road again.
I shooed Nico - fully dressed once more - out of the tiny bathroom so I could
brush my teeth. He shuffled past me clutching a comb, and somehow managed to
squeeze past my in the narrow doorway without any part of our bodies touching.
When I came out of the bathroom the comb was away and his hair looked as messy
as ever, so I don't know if he ever actually used it or if it was just
symbolic. For all I knew it was actually an Underworld comb that turned into a
skeleton army if broken. That seemed like the kind of thing Hades would give
his son as a present.
Blackjack bore us aloft and headed west again. It was cloudy and overcast, but
not raining. I hoped it stayed that way: travel by pegasus-back is a lot less
fun in the rain. Nebraska was huge, and we'd definitely have to make a stop-off
in the state sometime today, but we were planning to make it to Colorado by
nightfall.
About an hour in, we stopped by a river so that Blackjack could drink. Nico was
avoiding my eyes, like he had been since this morning. I figured he'd realised
about the boners-almost-touching thing. It was slightly awkward. Still, I
couldn't muster up much embarrassment. No boners had actually touched, and on
the long list of weird and embarrassing shit I'd been through, some
unintentional sleep-cuddling barely made the list. Maybe I was finally growing
up?
Being grown-up also meant sucking it up and doing the responsible thing,
unfortunately. So even though Nico was in an especially uncommunicative mood
that morning, I had to ask:
"Hey, Nico, what happened with you and Jason in Croatia?"
First, Nico went white. Then he went red. His mouth opened, then slammed shut
as he compressed his lips into a thin bloodless line. He looked guilty. Holy
Hades, I hadn't expected that reaction.
"That's none of your business," he managed to say, mostly without opening his
mouth. Well, I could hardly claim that I hadn't known that would set him off.
But I knew that it was important, and I knew that that little glance to the
side meant that it was, somehow, something to do with me.
"Nico, I've had a dream about it twice now." Nico looked like I'd stabbed him
with Riptide. "I think it's significant. All I see is you and Jason looking
upset, like really upset, and scared." Even more upset and scared than he
looked now.
Nico shook his head fiercely, his long hair flying in his face. He looked like
he wished very, very desperately to be anywhere but here. What could have
happened in Croatia to make him look like that?
"Drop it," he said hoarsely. He looked willing to shadow-travel out of there
and leave me and Blackjack in Two Miles Past The Back Of Beyond, Nebraska, if I
didn't. So, reluctantly, I dropped it.
Let me tell you: being grown-up sucks.
We flew on in silence. OK, we pretty much always fly in silence because trying
to carry on a conversation on a pegasus is like trying it on a motorbike, but
this silence had a definite uncomfortable edge.
It made me wish, for the second time, that somebody else was here. Jason and
Nico had got close when they were on the Argo. Nico had even told him that he
was leaving for good. He hadn't told me. I'd seen Jason and Nico talking at
Camp after we defeated Gaia, and remembering it made me envy their easy
friendship. Nico was never at ease with me.
Will Solace was the other candidate. Will manages to be both extremely bossy
and good with feelings, which means that if he decides you need a heart-to-
heart, you have a heart-to-heart whether you like it or not. If he was here,
Nico would probably have poured his heart out by now, though maybe not by
choice, and allowed Will to wrap a friendly arm around his shoulders. Will has
that effect on people.
But I wasn't Will, I wasn't Jason, and Nico hated me. So here we were, on
Blackjack who clearly thought we were both idiots, flying over dusty Nebraska
grassland and praying to any god who might be listening to get us to California
sooner.
It was a relief to land. It didn't lift the mood, but it let us stretch our
legs and kept Nico from gnawing on my shoulder with hunger. Nico was going to
have to take us on from here with shadow-travel, because if I sat on Blackjack
any longer my legs were going to seize up and I was going to start walking like
John Wayne.
I'd assumed we'd landed in a town, but a sign proudly proclaimed that in fact
we were in Scottsbluff, Nebraska, which was a city. It looked like a small town
to me, but I'll admit that I'm biased.
We found a diner, and without talking we both stared through the window at the
staff, trying to work out if any of them were actually Gorgons or empousai or
manticores. The first diner we found had a woman who looked a bit too much like
Echidna for comfort sitting at one of its tables. We looked at each other, and
quickly moved on. The second diner we came to looked fine, and nobody tried to
take our entrails along with our orders, so I cautiously put it down as 'safe'.
"Hey, Nico," I said when eventually the silence got too much, "do you have to
do this every time you go to see Hazel?" If he was, that was definitely too
much shadow-travelling, and I'd have to drag him to the Apollo cabin by the ear
when we got back to Camp.
"No." Nico paused in inhaling his sandwich. "If it's just me, I travel to the
Underworld at the New York entrance and come out in LA." Another mouthful,
minimal chewing. I guess I had wanted him to start eating again after his
imprisonment. "But I can't take you to the Underworld with me unless you're
planning to move in permanently, so we're doing this the long way."
Put that way, it made me sound like an inconvenience.
"Sorry," I offered. "I thought you'd have to go overground, and I didn't want
you going alone. I realise that you, like, hate me." I thought we might as well
get that in the open.
Nico's eyebrows shot up. Then he put down his sandwich, which was pretty
serious.
"Percy, I don't - I don't hate you." He was so surprised that he was looking me
full in the face. He never did that these days, so I guess he meant it.
"Thanks, dude, but, uh, you've been doing a pretty good impression of somebody
who hates my guts."
Nico looked down.
"Sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that. I was starting to wonder what I'd done wrong." I
was wondering it again, because now Nico looked sad. "You just...always act
like you can't wait to get away from me."
Inexplicably, Nico laughed. Two tables over, a blonde girl moved to a chair
further away from us.
"Sorry," he said again. He sounded bitter, though I didn't know why. "You're
right. I should stop being an asshole and taking it out on you."
Taking what out on me, I nearly asked. Then I remembered Bianca. He'd said a
few years ago that he'd stopped blaming me, but I guess some scars run deep.
I didn't know what to say about that - 'Sorry about your still tragically dead
sister' didn't seem to cut it - so instead I changed the subject and asked how
his living sister was doing.
"Hazel's fine," he said, sitting up like he always did when Hazel was
mentioned. It was kind of sweet, especially in a guy who to my knowledge hadn't
been excited about anything since he was ten. I liked Hazel, and it made me
really glad that Nico had a sister again.
"Yeah?" I picked up my own sandwich again. "I've not seen her much recently,
but sometimes she's with Reyna when we IM."
It suddenly occurred to me to that maybe Nico would have done better with one
of those big Italian families, with loads of sisters and aunts and uncles and
cousins. The ten year old Nico I'd met would have been thrilled with plenty of
relatives to pester.
But now he just had Hazel, and he obviously loved her as much as he had Bianca.
The cheek-kissing and cuddling was cute because it was so totally not what
you'd expect from Nico, but I guess that's just how the Italians are. Hazel was
a good influence on him.
There was Hades too, I guess, but even though Nico got on well with his dad
these days, he didn't really count. I understood the desire to impress your
godly parent, but I wanted him to spent less time in the Underworld, not more.
The visitor policy down there is pretty harsh.
That left me and Jason as his next closest relatives, in as much as we could be
related given that the gods have no DNA. I squinted at him across the formica
table. Yeah, I'd feel comfortable referring to this guy as my cousin, if anyone
asked.
It was a nice moment, a nice conversation, and we left the diner in comfortable
silence. Which is probably why everything went to Hades shortly after. Monsters
have some kind of sixth sense that makes them appear at exactly the right
moment to ruin your day.
I guess I should have realised when a couple of huge guys in numbered
sweatshirts appeared in the crowd. Then I saw a couple more. Realistically, how
many people in Nowhere, Nebraska do you think care about ice hockey?
But neither Nico nor I were really paying attention, and so we completely
missed the signs - until there were a good ten of them following us and more
melting out of side-streets.
Uh, Boss? Blackjack ruffled his wings. Do you think these guys look like they
eat pegasus? I think they look like they eat pegasus.
"In my experience, they're into something a little...smaller. More bipedal." My
hand was on Riptide in my pocket and I didn't need to look to know that Nico
was on the verge of drawing his sword, but more and more of them were appearing
and I didn't like our chances. We'd done well to dispatch those two Gorgons so
quickly, and I'd even enjoyed it because it had proved to Nico that we made a
good team; but there was no way this fight could end well for us without some
serious godly help.
Which we didn't get, of course. I wasn't massively surprised: the gods don't
come down and interfere in everything their children do. But it would have been
nice to know that somebody up there had our backs.
"Hey, Nico," I said as the looming figures grew closer and loomier, "time to
split?"
Before he could answer me, the Laestrygonians moved in for the kill.
I like to think I did OK in that fight, didn't embarrass the demigod name or
anything, but to be perfectly honest, I haven't a clue. There were too many of
them for me to think up any kind of sensible strategy: if there was an ugly
eight-foot-tall cannibal's face in front of me, I hacked and slashed. I can't
claim much finesse was involved, but it was pretty effective as hack-n-slash
tactics go.
But there were still too many, even with Nico behind me, guarding my back. I
felt his right hand grab my upper arm and then we were falling away from the
Laestrygonians, passing through darkness that felt as oppressive as the
Underworld itself.
We landed with the crunch of leaves and tall trees towering over us up to the
blue sky. Nico's grip on my arm suddenly went slack, and I had to lunge to grab
him before he hit the ground. I picked him up in a bridal carry - hey, he was
passed out, it wasn't like he was going to know - and checked the area.
No monsters I could see, just rocks and trees. I thought we might be in the
Rocky Mountains, but my Colorado geography is shaky to nonexistent, and I
wasn't even sure that the Rocky Mountains were in Colorado at all.
Blackjack whinnied doubtfully. Higher ground, boss?
"If we can get to it." We'd come out at the bottom of a cliff, and the tree
cover was too dense for Blackjack to get a clear take-off.
We didn't find higher ground, in the end, but we did find a whole load of
caves. It looked like we were going camping again. Great. I settled Nico more
comfortably in my arms and set off towards what looked like the biggest
entrance. Please, I prayed to any god who might be listening, don't let it be a
hideout for the Chimera or something.
If it was the Chimera's lair, the Chimera wasn't there and there was a
remarkable lack of bones. All I saw were leaves. I guessed we were sleeping
here tonight, then.
"You coming in, buddy?" I asked Blackjack, who snorted and turned his back. I
guessed not, then. Note to self: pegasi don't like small, enclosed spaces.
Nico was light in my arms - too light. He seemed very small, very young, and
very thin. I had to put him down to put up the tent and set us up for the
night, but just for a moment I didn't want to. I couldn't feel any body heat
coming through his clothes, and I was terrified that if I let go of him he
might just disappear.
I stayed frozen for a long moment, feeling Nico breathe in and out, his ribcage
expanding and contracting. It was fine: he wasn't turning transparent or
insubstantial. He'd just passed out from exhaustion. I made my breathing match
his and did my best to calm down.
Eventually, I set Nico down carefully on the floor and got the tent out of my
bag.
I'd set up this tent so many times that I was a pro. If we ever ran
competitions over who could put up their Camp tent fastest, I would definitely
medal. Up went the two-man tent, in went the sleeping bags. It took me at least
eight goes to start a fire - look, my Dad's domain doesn't lend itself to
awesome powers with matches - but once I managed it I was as proud as that guy
who made a glass bowl that didn't break.
Nico slept through all of it, including me picking him up again and rolling him
into a sleeping bag. It was a good thing he was light, because he was a total
dead weight. It made me glad I'd come with him on this not-quest, even if he
was standoffish and acted like he couldn't stand me most of the time. If he
overextended himself and passed out on his own, he could have been prey for any
casually roaming monster. Nico was willing to push himself to the very limits
of his own powers, way beyond what was safe, and I didn't like how vulnerable
it left him.
I knew there was no point in telling him this: he'd tell me where I could stick
my concern, and probably not that politely, either. But it was that stupid
responsibility I felt rearing its head again. And, despite how surly he'd been
towards me for the past two years, I liked Nico. Even when he pissed me off -
and he did pretty regularly - I still considered him a friend. Though I wasn't
sure he'd say the same about me. I'd never been able to figure Nico out.
It was chilly in the cave, even allowing for the tent trapping our body heat,
and the temperature would drop further as night fell. After some heaving and
tugging - OK, a lot - I managed to more or less zip our sleeping bags together,
so we could share body heat while still being able to breathe. Nico slept
through the whole thing, of course. I was envious. I would love to be able to
sleep that deeply. If he dreamed of Tartarus like I still did, I couldn't tell.
So I put my arm around Nico and closed my eyes. I didn't feel awkward any more
about basically cuddling Nico. After sharing a sleeping bag and then sharing a
bed and waking up with him attached to me, I guess I'd got used to it. It was
Nico who made it awkward every time, but he was already passed out.
To be honest, I'd missed sharing a bed with somebody else. I liked the simple
animal comfort of Nico's warm body tucked into mine. I'd even started to find
the smell of his hair comforting, which was something I was never going to
admit to another living soul.
I rarely thought of Nico as being three years younger than me, even though he
was, but close up our size difference made it clear. Nico fit neatly under my
arm, and I felt some of the old, pointless protectiveness well up in me as I
drifted off to sleep. I drowsily wished I'd been able to do this to eleven year
old Nico. He'd needed it.
Of course, I had the dream again. It replaced the dreams of Tartarus, so I
couldn't complain, but Jason and Nico's expressions unsettled me.
This time, the camera dollied out until I could see what had made them look
that way. Their opponent was a frighteningly beautiful guy with wings and a
bow, and an ageless look that I knew meant he was some kind of immortal. He had
long black hair, and when he looked my way I saw that his eyes were blood red.
I watched him shoot an arrow that hit Nico's arm, then dissolved. He looked
like Thanatos, but crueller.
There was no sound in the dream, but I saw everybody's mouths move. Jason and
Nico were obviously arguing with the guy - the god - but he was totally
impassive. He didn't get angry with them: he just waited. He reminded me of
Aphrodite telling me my love-life would be interesting, like she was looking
forward to watching it.
Remembering Aphrodite made me realise why this guy was so familiar, and why he
used a bow. This was Eros, Love himself - and Aphrodite's son. His dad was
Ares, so I wasn't surprised to discover that he was a total jerk.
But what could he have wanted with Jason and Nico?
In the dream, Nico's face crumpled and more skeletons surged out of the ground.
The dream faded out.
I woke up to light filtering through the thin tent walls. Nico was still safely
tucked up against me, snoring quietly. There was no wind outside, just the
occasional faint snatch of bird song. The tent was small and the sleeping bag
was warm. It felt...intimate. You know how teen movies show girls sharing all
their deepest secrets in the dark at sleepovers? It felt like that. It was a
still, suspended moment.
I didn't know whether Nico would have felt the same if he'd been awake. He'd
told me he didn't hate me, and to his credit he'd stopped acting like it, but I
still got the feeling that he was uncomfortable around me. If I had to explain
it, I would say that it was like he wanted something from me, but he didn't
want to want it and he wasn't going to tell me what he wanted. Frankly, it was
pretty frustrating.
And yet I still felt close to him. He'd spent time with Bob down in the
Underworld, and he'd told the Titan that I was a friend. He'd said such good
things that Bob had helped Annabeth and me when we'd fallen into Tartarus. You
don't do that for people you hate. You have to think pretty highly of somebody
to talk them up to a janitor-Titan, and to repeatedly save their life.
I remembered my Mom telling me, you can't fix everybody's problems, honey, and
sighed, ruffling Nico's hair. Mom was right, as usual. If Nico needed me to
come and beat up a monster, I could do that; but if he didn't want to talk
about what was in his head, I couldn't help him. I just hoped he could talk it
out with Hazel. Like Will, Hazel was the kind of person you'd feel OK with
pouring out your troubles to.
Maybe even love troubles. I wondered again what Eros had been saying to Jason
and Nico. Jason had looked upset, but he'd been looking at Nico, while Nico had
looked like he was in agony. So my guess was that Eros had said something
directed at Nico, and Jason had just been along for the ride. I remembered the
rumour going around our friend-group that he had a crush on Annabeth. Could
Eros have been taunting him about that?
Next to me, Nico stopped snoring. I considered moving away so he wouldn't wake
up to me spooning him for the third time in a week, then stayed where I was. I
was warm and comfortable. If Nico was uncomfortable, he could move.
Nico didn't move. I felt him twitch as he slid into consciousness, but he
didn't immediately throw my arm off and bolt from the tent. He stiffened up,
like he had last time I'd put my arm over him. But he stayed, a little tense
under my arm but willing to bear it. Maybe he felt how fragile the air was in
our little tent.
Slowly, he relaxed. I thought maybe he was going back to sleep, but he didn't
start snoring. We both lay there, awake but on the soft edge of sleep, wrapped
up in our cozy sleeping bag. Despite the rocks and leaves and spiders, it was
the most comfortable I'd been in months.
So naturally, I had to go and open my big mouth to ruin it.
"Nico, I realise you don't want to talk about it." I stared at the back of his
head, willing him to open up. "But this is the third dream I've had about you
and Jason in Croatia, and I think it's relevant to what we're trying to do.
Tell me what you were doing there with Eros, please." I tried to speak gently,
but also make it clear that I really needed to know.
I heard Nico sigh, but it was a sigh that said I'm ready to talk. I was getting
good at this responsible adult thing.
"Cupid," said Nico very quietly, like the words were being dragged out of him.
"He was in his Roman form." He hadn't rolled over to face me, so I had to
strain to hear him. "I don't - I won't tell you all of it. But Cupid told me
some things I really didn't want to hear. It was stuff I didn't want to admit."
His voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "It was embarrassing, especially with
Jason there."
"Oh. I'm sorry." That seemed inadequate, but I couldn't come up with anything
better. Nico had curled up again, like remembering what Cupid had said to him
made him feel small and defensive. "You looked really upset," I offered.
"I was angry." Nico sighed again, then snorted. "No, I wasn't just angry. I
felt humiliated, because it was a secret and Cupid forced me to tell Jason." He
was getting really agitated now, like the memory had upset him all over again.
I kept my voice very even. If I'm totally honest, I did my best to channel my
Mom when she needs to have a serious conversation with me.
"Well, you don't have to tell me what it is. I'm not Cupid, and I can't make
you tell me. But since we're trying to be friends, I'd be glad if you did, some
time." I didn't want to make it sound like I was trying to lay a guilt trip on
him, but this friendship was going to have to include some mutual trust. And I
was as curious as the proverbial cat about this secret.
Nico snorted.
"Trust me, you wouldn't want to be friends with me if you knew."
I didn't want to say it, because if it had been me in that situation I would
have been so embarrassed I could die: but I had to clear the air.
"Look, Nico." I paused, but forced myself to continue. "If this is because you
have a crush on Annabeth, that's not going to change my mind. It wouldn't
change my mind even if we were still dating."
"Annabeth? You think I have a crush on Annabeth?" Nico was so startled that he
rolled over to face me. I don't know what face I was making, but he burst into
incredulous barking laughter.
"I guess it's not Annabeth, then," I said when he'd stopped. I was slightly
offended on Annabeth's behalf: it wasn't ridiculous that a guy might have a
crush on her. I bet loads of guys had crushed on her. I bet some guy had a
crush on her right now; maybe she even had a crush on him in return. Some guy
who wasn't me.
"No," said Nico. His hair was in his face, but he was a little bit pink in the
cheeks and he was still smiling a tiny smile. For a moment, I could see the ten
year old I met who wanted to know all about what a son of Poseidon could do and
tell me all about Mythomagic.
His smile turned bitter.
"No," he said again, "it's not Annabeth."
Then he managed to crawl out of our sleeping bag and out of the tent, and I had
to follow him to start the day.
The weather was mild, but definitely colder than yesterday. Autumn was truly
settling in here, and in the cool morning sunlight I could see the red and
orange leaves as they crunched under our feet.
Blackjack was waiting for us at the cave entrance, peaceably chewing on some
kind of herb or grass. Pegasi were generally pretty chill - in total contrast
to horses, Hazel once told me - but Blackjack was, to use one of Piper's
expressions, so laid back he was practically horizontal. It made us a good fit.
"Morning," I said to him, giving his nose a stroke. The skin around a pegasus'
mouth is soft and velvety, and once you've touched it once it's hard to stop
petting it. It's not where Blackjack most likes to be stroked - that would be
his forehead, underneath his jaw, and on top of his tail - but he's always been
very patient with me poking at him. I didn't grow up around horses, hadn't even
seen one in the flesh before I came to Camp; but now I thought that if I ever
had to go somewhere without any, I'd miss them.
Morning, Boss. Blackjack nuzzled my shoulder and raised one hind hoof to
scratch his other hind leg. Nico hung back, maybe because he wanted to be
polite. I remembered again Blackjack telling me how Nico had snuck him the
occasional carrot.
"Hey, Nico, c'mere and show our ride some appreciation."
Nico's eyebrows shot up, he shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets,
and for a moment I thought he was going to refuse. But then Blackjack left me
alone to wander over to him, and gently bumped his nose against Nico's chest.
Faced with a pegasus bending his head to demand attention, Nico's reserve
crumbled like an overbaked cookie. There aren't many people who can stay
totally stoic while scratching an affectionate pegasus behind the ears, and I
don't think I'd be friends with any of them.
When we eventually climbed on board, everybody was a lot more relaxed. We were
heading for Utah, and aiming to get to Nevada by nightfall. If everything went
according to plan, we should be in California tomorrow. And I still didn't know
what exactly we were looking for. I should ask Nico when we next made a stop.
I got to thinking about Nico's little confession this morning. I hadn't had to
literally sit on him to squeeze it out of him, which I had been vaguely
considering, but the more I thought about it, the more it stung that it had
taken him this long to trust me. Did I just come off like a guy you couldn't
trust with personal stuff, even if it was quest-related?
But then, I guess I hadn't been such a great friend. He'd vanished from Camp a
couple of weeks after the Titan War, and I hadn't been able to stop him because
I'd barely noticed that I hadn't seen him around much. I'd been so caught up
with Annabeth that I just hadn't paid much attention to anything else. Then
we'd met up only I didn't remember him; then by the time I'd got my memories
back he'd already been captured; then only minutes after we got him out I
followed Annabeth into Tartarus, and once I got back from that he'd gone off
with Reyna, Hedge and the Athena Parthenos. We just kept missing each other.
This quest had seemed like the perfect chance to get round that: you learnt a
lot about people when you were stuck in close quarters with them for a week,
even if all you learnt was how much they annoyed you. And I had learnt things
about Nico. He'd even finally talked a bit about Bianca, very obliquely. But he
had a secret, a secret about what Cupid had told him in Croatia - a secret that
Jason knew and I didn't.
You wouldn't want to be friends with me if you knew.
Well, I now knew that he wasn't crushing on Annabeth, like I'd thought.
Literally the only person I could think of who would be that bad for Nico to
have a crush on was Hazel.
I let myself really consider that for a minute. It wouldn't be 'dating within
your cabin' in the most technical sense because Nico was Greek and Hazel was
Roman, but they definitely thought of themselves as brother and sister. Hazel
was the only person I'd ever seen Nico hug willingly and enthusiastically: he
let Jason crush the breath out of him, sure, but that wasn't the same. He was
openly affectionate with Hazel: I'd seen him kiss her forehead or cheek and
hold her hands, which he'd never have done with anyone else.
Except Bianca, I thought. He'd been so close to Bianca and so obsessed with
getting her back from the Underworld - he really valued what little family he
had left. Maybe the cuddliness was just an Italian thing and I was overthinking
it. I was building incestuous bricks out of perfectly familial straw.
We stopped off in Provo, Utah. Basically the only things I know about Utah are
Mormons and the Utahraptor. We didn't see any dinosaurs, but we sure saw a lot
of Mormons. I mean, they weren't wearing badges saying 'Hi, I'm a Mormon!' or
anything, but in Geography class they told us that the population of Provo was
ninety-eight per cent Mormon, so I extrapolated.
Apart from all the buildings with the initials 'LDS' on, it looked a lot like
Des Moines and every other big city in the USA. We were in search of a suitably
boring diner when excitement found us.
A deer ran across the street in front of us, and paused. At first I assumed
that this was just one of those weird things that happen in some cities, like
basically everything on the New York subway, that the natives just ignore. Then
I realised that not only was nobody paying attention to the deer, they didn't
even seem to have noticed it.
I looked at Nico. He looked at me and made a face. Blackjack snorted.
Silently, we agreed to follow the deer. If it really was a normal deer, we'd
look pretty stupid; but if it wasn't and we ignored the godly summons, we might
look pretty dead.
The deer led us out of the city. Of course it did. It was probably luring us to
our deaths, I thought gloomily. We shot through Provo on Blackjack's back as he
cantered to keep up with the quick-darting deer. We were heading for the huge
mountain that loomed over the city like Mount Rushmore over the badlands of
South Dakota.
The deer didn't slow down: she just stopped dead. Blackjack stopped dead too,
so hard that I had to cling to his neck to stay on, because a bear had just
prowled out of the trees ahead of us.
The grizzly watched us with silver-yellow eyes. I didn't know what colour eyes
grizzlies usually had, but I recognised these.
"Lady Artemis," I addressed the bear. Nice bear, nice bear. Please don't let
this be Actaeon: Redux.
After a painful pause, the bear suddenly transformed into a girl.
"Demigods." Artemis didn't exactly smile, but she didn't look unhappy to see
us; which, given that we were boys, was probably the best we could have hoped
for. "I know what your quest is for, and how you will complete it." She did?
Great, that was more than I knew. "You did me a service once, and I intend to
return it."
She hold out her hand. Nestled in her palm was a tiny golden knife, like
Piper's Katoptris except even smaller.
"I cannot avert the misfortunes that await you," Artemis told us once I'd
leaned forward and accepted the knife. "But I may alleviate some suffering."
And before I could ask her what in Hades she was on about, she changed back
into a grizzly - Blackjack took a nervous step back - and with a flash of her
silver-yellow eyes was gone.
I didn't really know what to say after that. I guess Nico didn't either,
because Blackjack carried us back to Provo in silence. I'd put the knife in my
pocket, and it felt warm against my leg. I didn't like the sound of these
'misfortunes', but I wasn't even surprised: realistically, this kind of thing
happened to me about twice a week. By now, I just thought of it as part of
being a demigod.
"Hey, Nico," I said when we'd found our boring diner and were waiting for our
food, "do you get attacked by monsters all the time? Just, you know, randomly?"
Nico squinted at me. "Define 'all the time'."
"Uh, once or twice a week?"
"Yeah, same. I go looking for it, though, doing stuff for my dad. You're just
like...a trouble magnet."
"It's not my fault monsters find me irresistible," I grumbled. Nico's face did
a funny thing and he opened his mouth like he was going to say something - but
then our food arrived and we didn't talk for a while.
Nico managed not to pass out after shadow-travelling us to Nevada, and I
managed not to throw up, so maybe we were getting better at this shadow-
travelling thing. Blackjack told me exactly what he thought of the feeling of
his eyeballs being compressed into his skull, though I decided Nico didn't need
to know the specifics. He think he picked up on the tone, though.
After Artemis' warning, I half expected to be attacked the moment we landed;
but there was no suspicious rustling in the scrub, and we set out in the
direction of Ely, Nevada unmolested except by midges. Our shoes - my trainers,
Nico's boots - crunched through the occasional drift of leaves on the ground.
Blackjack offered to carry us further, but he was tired and both Nico and I
wanted to walk and stretch our legs. At least, I think Nico wanted that. He'd
gone quiet again after lunch.
The weird mood stayed through the rest of the afternoon, through dinner, and
through us finding some tiny motel to stay in. Once the sun had gone down, the
temperature had dropped fast.
I said as much to Nico when we got to our twin room.
"It's going to hit freezing out there," I said in wonder as I turned up the
thermostat. "Did you hear the lady on the desk say they had temperatures below
freezing every day for nearly two-thirds of the year? Man, it's cold in here.
We ought to have asked for a double so we could huddle for warmth." I said it
like a joke, but I could actually have done with a human hot-water bottle.
Well, I guess that was the straw that broke the pegasus' back. Nico stopped
emptying the apparently bottomless pockets of his jacket in search of I didn't
know what, and stared fixedly at the wall past my head.
"Don't talk stupid, Percy," he snapped.
"Huh?" For a guy who claimed he didn't hate me...
"Joking about sharing a bed. It's funny because it's too gay for you, right?"
Nico's voice was bitter. "Stop it."
Now, when it comes to figuring out what other people are really saying to me,
I'm not always the brightest bulb in the box. Unless it's that they not-so-
secretly think I'm scum: I'm pretty good at recognising that. But other
interpersonal stuff, noticing and understanding the signals people are giving
off in my direction? It's hit-and-miss, to say the least. But suddenly, a few
things I'd never understood about Nico snapped into place.
"Is that what this is all about?" I tried not to sound accusing. "That was what
Cupid told you that you didn't want to hear? That when you told me you weren't
interested in Annabeth, you meant because you aren't interested in girls?"
Nico blanched in horror.
"I," he said, then stopped. "Percy," he said, helplessly. He looked like he had
when he and Jason had met Cupid. I realised that he hadn't meant to reveal
that.
The shadows around him seemed to lengthen.
"No!" I leapt towards him and grabbed his shoulders, then his hands when he
tried to fight me off. "You are not going to shadow-travel out of here!" I was
scared and upset, but also angry. I was not going to let Nico run away when I'd
just worked out something important.
"Let go!" Nico shouted back. His chalky skin looked stretched over the bones of
his face. In a moment, he'd reverted to how he'd looked when we rescued him
from that jar. I'd done that. He fought my grip with ferocious, desperate
strength; but I was taller and heavier, and in the end I pinned him against the
wall.
"For Zeus' sake, Nico," I hissed, thunder booming disapprovingly in the
distance, "I'm not going to hurt you!"
Nico didn't look like he believed me. Beneath us, the ground shook ominously.
In desperation, and not wanting to have to explain to the management why there
had been a localised earthquake and why there were a bunch of skeletons on the
floor - assuming I was alive to tell the tale - I proved I meant what I'd said.
And by that, I mean I flung my arms around him and refused to let go.
He struggled. And by 'struggled', I mean 'fought like a cat being given a
bath'. I expected to feel bony hands tearing me limb from limb any second as he
snarled into my shoulder and tried to shove me off - but I was taller, older
and heavier, and I had him pinned.
I guess it eventually dawned on him that I wasn't trying to suffocate or
supplex him, because he went limp. The ground stopped shaking. I tightened my
grip, just in case. I remembered playing possum to wriggle out of school
bullies' holds.
"Nico, there's nothing wrong with it. What did you think I was going to say?"
Nico made an inarticulate noise of disagreement into my shoulder.
"It's not. There's nothing wrong with you." Nico shook his head unhappily, but
his arms crept around my waist. Had this really been it, all along? Had this
been Nico's problem?
We stayed like that for a while, clinging onto each other. I didn't say
anything more: I didn't know what to say. I was pretty sure that Nico was
trying not to cry, and that frightened me.
We slept in separate beds, silently. But I listened to Nico's breathing and
thought about a lot of things I hadn't thought about before, until I finally
drifted off to sleep.
The morning was awkard, but not as awkward as it could have been. Nico was back
to not being able to look me in the eye, but I treated him exactly the same as
normal. I maybe even over-compensated slightly. It was as if that moment of
unexpected emotional intimacy in a Nevada hotel room had never happened. But
the tension was bubbling under the surface, and when Nico looked up and
accidentally made eye contact, I felt like my hair was being seared off. Nico
went vibrantly red and instantly looked away.
We made Yerington in a few hours for lunch, then headed for Sacramento and
Central Valley. When Nico took my hand to shadow-travel us, it was like an
electrical charge went through me. He was so wound up that skeletons ought to
be clawing up through the ground. I closed my eyes and squeezed hard.
As luck would have it, Nico got us there on the first try.
Central Valley produces more than half of the fruits, vegetables and nuts grown
in the United States. Logically, it must be pretty green and lush. I know that.
But this was something else.
We'd landed in what looked like a garden: a huge, fertile garden. Instead of
fruit being grown in neat rows, all different kinds of tree and bush
intertwined, every one of them laden so heavily that the fruit weighed down the
branches. Beneath our feet, the tops of carrots and kale sprouted from the
soil. I heard water flowing in the distance.
"So, this flower-thingy is in paradise?" Me speaking must have made Nico
realise that he hadn't let go of my hand yet, because he dropped it like I was
contagious.
"Looks like." Nico looked around dubiously at all the growing things.
"Is this Demeter's garden? I mean..." It was clearly divine in origin.
"You think this is Demeter's garden? How very flattering." At the sound of a
rough but sweet man's voice, we spun around. And immediately wished we hadn't,
because this guy was not dressed for company.
"Not Demeter." Nico's lips barely moved. He was trying not to stare at the same
thing I was trying not to stare at. Did this guy really have to go around
greeting guests like that? What was he the god of? Because, as you've probably
already guessed, he was definitely a god.
The guy - the god - smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Little trespassers," he said, almost fondly. "I know what you have come for,
and I am bound to give it to you. Though you will, I am afraid, have to get it
yourself." He sounded pleased about that.
He looked straight at me with piercing deep brown eyes. "Since you've spoken so
kindly of my garden, I'll let you do it. Come forward."
I stepped up to the dubious honour. I could feel Nico vibrating with tension
behind me. Up close, I could see that the god had a craggy, smiling face and
was wearing a wreath on his curly hair. I was also very aware that I was now so
close to a certain part of him that if he stepped forward it would hit my knee,
and if it did I wasn't sure what I would do.
"Your flower and fruit are there on that tree." He pointed to my right. "Cut
them, and you shall have them."
I fled, though not without a backwards glance at Nico, who was determinedly
keeping his gaze above the god's waist. The sooner I could get this fruit
thing, the sooner we could get out of here. I've been in locker rooms with guys
who like to let it all hang out, but this was something else.
The tree was only a few feet away, and I spotted what we needed immediately,
because they were the only flower and fruit on it. It looked like a Chinese
lantern, except the leaf part was lilac and the berry was bright red.
The god had said I could have it if I could cut it. I was tempted to draw
Riptide, just to see what would happen if I tried with the normal demigod's
Celestial Bronze - but I could already guess that at the very best, it wouldn't
work. Artemis' pocket knife was burning a hole in my pocket. I took it out and
set to work.
Behind me, I could hear the god conversing with Nico.
"You, on the other hand..." The god clucked his tongue. "Well, you haven't
really got any manners, have you? Little trespasser."
Wisely, Nico said nothing. That was better than I would have done. I would have
told the guy to shove it, which of course would have proved that I really was a
bad-mannered trespasser. I still desperately wanted to ask whether he just
dressed like that because he couldn't find pants with a third leg.
"Trespassers," the god told Nico with a sigh, "are the bane of my existence.
Always wanting to steal something from me. Always wanting to poach what isn't
theirs." I sawed harder with the golden blade, working it through the tough
stem that kept the fruit on the tree. When we got out of here alive, I was
going to dedicate it to Artemis on her altars.
"That's why, little trespasser, you shall suffer the trespasser's punishment."
The god's voice was so gentle that I didn't realise what he was saying at
first. Then it clicked, and I spun around to see him push Nico to his knees.
I yelled something, I don't know what, and the fruit came off the branch in my
hand as I raced back towards them. I wouldn't let him-
I actually collided with the god, knocking both of us down. I didn't think
about how I probably shouldn't squish this fruit since we needed it to protect
the camp: I was just fixed on getting him and his massive hard-on away from
Nico. Before he could throw me off, I held Artemis' golden blade to his throat.
"Get out of here." I didn't recognise my own voice. The virgin huntress' blade
seemed to want to pierce his divine skin.
The god smiled. There was earth in the lines of his face.
"So I shall. But when you recognise my parting gift, you might wish I'd stayed.
Remember, boys: sucking and fucking only!"
And then I was kneeling over thin air. Behind me, Nico cried out, and I
scrambled awkwardly to my feet.
Nico was still kneeling on the ground, but now he was bent over on his hands
and knees. He looked up as I approached. His face was red. I first thought he'd
overheated somehow, but then he looked away from me and I realised he was
embarrassed.
"Nico..." I ventured. Nico just got redder. Then he squirmed in a very
particular way, and I realised what the god had done.
"Nico, is that guy...?"
"Priapus," interrupted Nico, quietly.
"Priapus. Is this what Priapus usually does?"
Nico attempted a casual shrug. It looked more like he was hunching his
shoulders protectively around his ears.
"Or something like it. He's a fertility god."
"So I see."
There was a long, awkward pause, during which Nico continued to do an
impression of a tomato. 'Sucking and fucking', huh? I cleared my throat and
said, with a nonchalance I really didn't feel,
"So, how do you want to do this?"
Nico looked at me in undisguised horror.
"Percy, I can't ask you to..." Words apparently failed him. He couldn't look me
in the eye. He was turning dangerous shades of red. "Can't you just go?"
"Nico, you heard what Priapus said." I tried to project an air of calm, like I
knew what I was doing. In reality, I was as scared and embarrassed as Nico.
"It's not going to go away unless we...you know." Words apparently failed me
too. That wasn't really helping with the calm, no-judgement thing I was trying
for.
Nico squirmed restlessly and chewed his lip. His eyes kept closing. He was
vulnerable like this, and I hated seeing it; but I couldn't look away either.
He'd never let me in, even though he'd helped me so much - so much of it
without telling me. Why help a guy on a quest but not give him the time of day
when you meet up after it? There were a lot of things I'd never really
understood about Nico.
But now there was one thing I did understand about Nico, and it was extra-cruel
of Priapus to punish him like that. I knew how I'd feel if I was in his
situation at fifteen with a girl I didn't much like.
I put my hand on his thigh - not too high, just feeling out the ground. His
skin was warm through his jeans and I rubbed my hand up and down, like you'd
pet a horse. I felt Nico's breathing pick up.
"Just close your eyes," I told him, in as soothing a voice as I could muster.
"I'll look after you."
It was a stupid thing to say, even though - especially though - it was true.
Nico awoke strange protective instincts in me, but he clearly wasn't interested
in being protected, and least of all by me. If he'd been in his right mind he'd
have given me a sardonic look and pointed out that he didn't carry a heavy
Stygian iron sword as a fashion statement.
But my hand was on his thigh, his breathing was fast, and with a little sigh he
closed his eyes and let his legs fall apart. The only sound around us was the
birdsong and the rustle of wind in the trees.
From there, it was easy. I was surprised how easy it was to just touch another
guy's dick. I never had before, but it just seemed natural to put my hand over
his crotch and squeeze and fondle it through his jeans. I watched my fingers
pull down his zipper like they were a stranger's fingers.
I didn't want to look at my friend's dick - that was weird, even though I was
touching it - but even though I was thinking I shouldn't, I was still looking
at it as I carefully pulled it out of his jeans. It was hot, really hot, and so
hard it throbbed and jumped in my hand. Nico was taking gasping breaths through
his nose as I pulled the foreskin over the head, playing with it.
But I was supposed to be doing this quickly. I made my hand into a fist and
wrapped it around his dick, and started working it like I worked my own. Nico
gasped, then bit his lip hard. I watched his thighs flex as the head of his
dick slid through my fingers, back and forth, so stiff it had to hurt. I pumped
it like I would mine if I really needed to get off in the next sixty seconds,
and he made a high-pitched sound in the back of his throat.
I looked up. Nico's face was scrunched up, his eyes screwed shut and his teeth
chewing a hole in his lip.
I felt bad all of a sudden. This was definitely Nico's first time, and here I
was trying to make it as impersonal as possible. If it had been Jason in his
position I could just have given him a bro hand-job (bro-job?) and it would
have been fine and we probably would have laughed about it afterwards, but Nico
wasn't like that. Whatever happened, we definitely wouldn't be laughing about
it afterwards.
I didn't usually think of Nico as being younger than me, but he was, by a good
three years and a half years, plus he was totally inexperienced; and I suddenly
realised that my attempt at a casual it's-just-business approach probably just
came off as callous. This was not how anyone wanted their first sexual contact
with another human being to go. Plus he clearly wasn't comfortable with being
gay, and here I was, another guy with a hand on his dick.
I took my hand off his dick. Nico opened his eyes. He looked confused.
"Huh?" Make that confused and kind of frustrated.
"C'mere." I put my hand - the clean one - on his jaw, brushing back his silky
hair. Then I leaned in, slowly, so he could back away if he really did just
want an awkward, impersonal handjob and felt kissing me would be too weird.
Apparently he didn't, or maybe wasn't sure, because he stayed totally still as
I tilted my head and gently pressed my mouth to his. When he didn't try to push
me away, I kissed him a little harder, willing him to loosen up.
Slowly, he untensed under me and I felt an answering pressure as he shyly
started to kiss back. Yeah, this was definitely his first kiss. And we were
about to move straight to the advanced class.
"Open your mouth," I whispered against his lips, then traced them with my
tongue. It worked: he shivered hard, then let my tongue slip inside his mouth.
His mouth was hot and soft inside, and I traced his tongue slickly with mine. I
might never have touched another guy's dick before, but I knew how to kiss. I
showed him what to do, sucking and licking at his mouth and encouraging him to
copy me. I put my free arm around his shoulder and tried to hold him close.
When I touched his dick again, he practically melted into me, rocking his hips
like he was close to coming. It was nice: I could happily jerk off Nico here in
this garden and then never speak of it again. That would be fine. But: sucking
and fucking, Priapus had said. I knew what that meant.
I'll be honest: I'd never even thought about doing this before. But it was my
mouth or my ass, and I picked my mouth.
"Percy, what are you doing?" Nico hissed when I broke the kiss and started
moving downwards. I pressed him backwards, encouraging him to lie down on his
back on the ground.
"Sucking or fucking. I choose sucking." His dick was staring me in the face. I
stared back at it. It was just a dick. Not even a menacing dick. Just the dick
of another teenage boy who I was about to suck off to get rid of whatever curse
a fertility god with a permanent hard-on had put on him. No pressure, or
anything.
"What? Percy, you can't-"
I did.
It tasted like - well, like a dick. Salty. Nico made a small hiccupping noise
and tried to arch his hips, but I caught them so he couldn't choke me. I sucked
on the spongy head and felt Nico's blunt fingernails dig into my back. I
started to use my tongue and Nico started shaking, rocking back and forth as
much as he could, like I was making him feel so good he couldn't control
himself.
He started groaning louder, more urgently, and I knew what was coming. I tried
to suck harder and rub the sensitive spot underneath the head with my tongue
and even bob my head a little, as stupid as it made me feel: anything I'd seen
or had done to me that might help.
I opened my eyes and looked up, expecting his eyes to be closed - but they were
open, and he was staring right down at me as I sucked his dick with all the
expertise I could pretend. Then his eyes closed, he threw back his head, and he
let out hoarse, gasping groans as his dick pulsed and spat jets of come into my
mouth.
I won't lie: I spat it all out. I have no idea how anyone can want to swallow
that. But Nico didn't seem to care, shuddering through the aftershocks, dick
dribbling its last spurt of come. I watched his thin chest heave through his t-
shirt, and became uncomfortably aware that I now had a raging boner of my own.
I hadn't expected to like it in that way.
It's just an automatic reaction to somebody making loud sex sounds in your ear,
I told myself. Perfectly normal.
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