The Blood of Olympus - The Feat. You Know The One. It's That One.

“A faun,” Bryce said. “Interesting. I heard the Greeks actually trusted their goat men.”

Hedge bleated. “I’m a satyr. And you can trust I’m going to put this bat upside your head, you little punk.”

The coach advanced, but as soon as his foot touched the cairn, the stones rumbled like they were coming to a boil. Out of the gravesite, skeletal warriors erupted—spartoi in the tattered remains of British redcoat uniforms.

Hedge scrambled away, but the first two skeletons grabbed his arms and lifted him off the ground. The coach dropped his bat and kicked his hooves.

“Lemme go, ya stupid boneheads!” he bellowed.

Nico watched, paralyzed, as the grave spewed forth more dead British soldiers—five, ten, twenty, multiplying so quickly that Reyna and her metal dogs were surrounded before Nico even thought to raise his sword.

How could he not have sensed so many dead, so close at hand?

“I forgot to mention,” Bryce said, “I’m actually not alone on this quest. As you can see, I have backup. These redcoats promised quarter to the colonials. Then they butchered them. Personally, I like a good massacre, but because they broke their oaths, their spirits were damned, and they are perpetually under the power of Orcus. Which means they are also under my control.” He pointed to Reyna. “Seize the girl.”

The spartoi surged forward. Aurum and Argentum took down the first few, but they were quickly wrestled to the ground, skeletal hands clamped over their muzzles. The redcoats grabbed Reyna’s arms. For undead creatures, they were surprisingly quick.

Finally, Nico came to his senses. He slashed at the spartoi, but his sword passed harmlessly through them. He exerted his will, ordering the skeletons to dissolve. They acted as if he didn’t exist.

“What’s wrong, son of Hades?” Bryce’s voice was filled with fake sympathy. “Losing your grip?”

Nico tried to push his way through the skeletons. There were too many. Bryce, Reyna, and Coach Hedge might as well have been behind a metal wall.

“Nico, get out of here!” Reyna said. “Get to the statue and leave.”

“Yes, off you go!” Bryce agreed. “Of course, you realize that your next shadow-jump will be your last. You know you don’t have the strength to survive another. But by all means, take the Athena Parthenos.”

Nico glanced down. He still held his Stygian sword, but his hands were dark and transparent like smoky glass. Even in the direct sunlight, he was dissolving.

“Stop this!” he said.

“Oh, I’m not doing a thing,” Bryce said. “But I am curious to see what will happen. If you take the statue, you’ll disappear with it forever, right into oblivion. If you don’t take it...well, I have orders to bring Reyna in alive to stand trial for treason. I have no orders to bring you in alive, or the faun.”

“Satyr!” the coach yelled. He kicked a skeleton in its bony crotch, which seemed to hurt Hedge more than the redcoat. “Ow! Stupid British dead guys!”

Bryce lowered his javelin and poked the coach in the belly. “I wonder what this one’s pain tolerance would be. I’ve experimented on all kinds of animals. I even killed my own centurion once. I’ve never tried a faun...excuse me, a satyr. You reincarnate, don’t you? How much pain can you take before you turn into a patch of daisies?”

Nico’s anger turned as cold and dark as his blade. He’d been morphed into a few plants himself, and he didn’t appreciate it. He hated people like Bryce Lawrence, who inflicted pain just for fun.

“Leave him alone,” Nico warned.

Bryce raised an eyebrow. “Or what? By all means, try something Underworld-y, Nico. I’d love to see it. I have a feeling anything major will make you fade out permanently. Go ahead.”

Reyna struggled. “Bryce, forget about them. If you want me as your prisoner, fine. I’ll go willingly and face Octavian’s stupid trial.”

“A fine offer.” Bryce turned his javelin, letting the tip hover a few inches from Reyna’s eyes. “You really don’t know what Octavian has planned, do you? He’s been busy pulling in favors, spending the legion’s money.”

Reyna clenched her fists. “Octavian has no right—”

“He has the right of power,” Bryce said. “You forfeited your authority when you ran off to the ancient lands. On August first, your Greek friends at Camp Half-Blood will find out what a powerful enemy Octavian is. I’ve seen the designs for his machines....Even I’m impressed.”

Nico’s bones felt like they were changing into helium, the way they’d felt when the god Favonius turned him into a breeze.

Then he locked eyes with Reyna. Her strength surged through him—a wave of courage and resilience that made him feel substantial again, anchored to the mortal world. Even surrounded by the dead and facing execution, Reyna Ramírez-Arellano had a huge reservoir of bravery to share.

“Nico,” she said, “do what you need to do. I’ve got your back.”

Bryce chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, Reyna. You’ve got his back? It’s going to be so fun dragging you before a tribunal, forcing you to confess that you killed your father. I hope they’ll execute you in the ancient way—sewn into a sack with a rabid dog, then thrown into a river. I’ve always wanted to see that. I can’t wait until your little secret comes out.”

Until your little secret comes out.

Bryce flicked the point of his pilum across Reyna’s face, leaving a line of blood.

And Nico’s rage exploded.

[...]

LATER, THEY TOLD HIM WHAT HAPPENED. All he remembered was the screaming.

According to Reyna, the air around him dropped to freezing. The ground blackened. In one horrible cry, he unleashed a flood of pain and anger on everyone in the clearing. Reyna and the coach experienced his journey through Tartarus, his capture by the giants, his days wasting away inside that bronze jar. They felt Nico’s anguish from his days on the Argo II, and his encounter with Cupid in the ruins of Salona.

They heard his unspoken challenge to Bryce Lawrence, loud and clear: You want secrets? Here.

The spartoi disintegrated into ashes. The rocks of the cairn turned white with frost. Bryce Lawrence stumbled, clutching his head, both nostrils bleeding.

Nico marched toward him. He grabbed Bryce’s probatio tablet and ripped it off his neck.

“You aren’t worthy of this,” Nico growled.

The earth split under Bryce’s feet. He sank up to his waist. “Stop!” Bryce clawed at the dirt and the plastic bouquets, but his body kept sinking.

“You took an oath to the legion.” Nico’s breath steamed in the cold. “You broke its rules. You inflicted pain. You killed your own centurion.”

“I—I didn’t! I—”

“You should’ve died for your crimes,” Nico continued. “That was the punishment. Instead you got exile. You should have stayed away. Your father Orcus may not approve of broken oaths. But my father Hades really doesn’t approve of those who escape punishment.”

“Please!”

That word didn’t make sense to Nico. The Underworld had no mercy. It only had justice.

“You’re already dead,” Nico said. “You’re a ghost with no tongue, no memory. You won’t be sharing any secrets.”

“No!” Bryce’s body turned dark and smoky. He slipped into the earth, up to his chest. “No, I am Bryce Lawrence! I’m alive!”

“Who are you?” Nico asked.

The next sound from Bryce’s mouth was a chattering whisper. His face became indistinct. He could have been anyone—just another nameless spirit among millions.

“Begone,” Nico said.

The spirit dissipated. The earth closed.

Nico looked back and saw that his friends were safe. Reyna and the coach stared at him in horror. Reyna’s face was bleeding. Aurum and Argentum turned in circles, as if their mechanical brains had short-circuited.

Nico collapsed.

His dreams made no sense, which was almost a relief.

A flock of ravens circled in a dark sky. Then the ravens turned into horses galloping through the surf.

He saw his sister Bianca sitting in the dining pavilion at Camp Half-Blood with the Hunters of Artemis. She smiled and laughed with her new group of friends. Then Bianca changed into Hazel, who kissed Nico on the cheek and said, “I want you to be an exception.”

[...]

The scene shifted. Nico stood with Hades in the Berkeley Hills on the day Hades first led him to Camp Jupiter. “Go to them,” said the god. “Introduce yourself as a child of Pluto. It is important you make this connection.”

“Why?” Nico asked.

Hades dissolved. Nico found himself back in Tartarus, standing before Akhlys, the goddess of misery. Blood streaked her cheeks. Tears streamed from her eyes, dripped on the shield of Hercules in her lap. “Child of Hades, what more could I do to you? You are perfect! So much sorrow and pain!”

Nico gasped.

His eyes flew open.

He was flat on his back, staring at the sunlight in the tree branches.

“Thank the gods.” Reyna leaned over him, her hand cool on his forehead. The bleeding cut on her face was completely gone.

Next to her, Coach Hedge scowled. Sadly, Nico had a great view right up the coach’s nostrils.

“Good,” said Coach Hedge. “Just a few more applications.”

He held up a large square bandage coated with sticky brown gunk and plastered it over Nico’s nose.

“What is...? Ugh.”

The gunk smelled like potting soil, cedar chips, grape juice, and just a hint of fertilizer. Nico didn’t have the strength to remove it.

His senses started to work again. He realized he was lying on a sleeping bag outside the tent. He was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts and a thousand gross, brown-plastered bandages all over his body. His arms, legs, and chest were itchy from the drying mud.

“Are—are you trying to plant me?” he murmured.

“It’s sports medicine with a little nature magic,” said the coach. “Kind of a hobby of mine.”

Nico tried to focus on Reyna’s face. “You approved this?”

She looked like she was about to pass out from exhaustion, but she managed a smile. “Coach Hedge brought you back from the brink. The unicorn draught, ambrosia, nectar...we couldn’t use any of it. You were fading so badly.”

“Fading...?”

“Don’t worry about that now, kid.” Hedge put a drinking straw next to Nico’s mouth. “Have some Gatorade.”

“I—I don’t want—”

“You’ll have some Gatorade,” the coach insisted.

Nico had some Gatorade. He was surprised at how thirsty he was.

“What happened to me?” he asked. “To Bryce...to those skeletons...?”

Reyna and the coach exchanged an uneasy look.

“There’s good news and bad news,” Reyna said. “But first, eat something. You’ll need your strength back before you hear the bad news.”

[...]

“THREE DAYS?”

Nico wasn’t sure he’d heard her right the first dozen times.

“We couldn’t move you,” Reyna said. “I mean...literally, you couldn’t be moved. You had almost no substance. If it weren’t for Coach Hedge—”

“No biggie,” the coach assured him. “One time in the middle of a play-off game I had to splint a quarterback’s leg with nothing but tree branches and strapping tape.”

Despite his nonchalance, the satyr had bags under his eyes. His cheeks were sunken. He looked almost as bad as Nico felt.

Nico couldn’t believe he’d been unconscious for so long. He recounted his weird dreams—the mutterings of Ella the harpy, the glimpse of Mellie the cloud nymph (which worried the coach)—but Nico felt as if those visions had lasted only seconds. According to Reyna, it was the afternoon of July 30. He’d been in a shadow coma for days.

“The Romans will attack Camp Half-Blood the day after tomorrow.” Nico sipped more Gatorade, which was nice and cold, but without
flavor. His taste buds seemed to have phased into the shadow world permanently. “We have to hurry. I have to get ready.”

“No.” Reyna pressed her hand against his forearm, making the bandages crinkle. “Any more shadow-travel would kill you.”

He gritted his teeth. “If it kills me, it kills me. We have to get the statue to Camp Half-Blood.”

“Hey, kid,” said the coach, “I appreciate your dedication, but if you zap us all into eternal darkness along with the Athena Parthenos, it’s not going to help anybody. Bryce Lawrence was right about that.”

At the mention of Bryce, Reyna’s metallic dogs pricked up their ears and snarled.

Reyna stared at the cairn of rocks, her eyes full of torment, as if more unwelcome spirits might emerge from the grave.

Nico took a breath, getting a nose full of Hedge’s fragrant home remedy. “Reyna, I...I didn’t think. What I did to Bryce—”

“You destroyed him,” Reyna said. “You turned him into a ghost. And, yes, it reminded me of what happened to my father.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Nico said bitterly. “I didn’t mean to...to poison another friendship. I’m sorry.”

Reyna studied his face. “Nico, I have to admit, the first day you were unconscious, I didn’t know what to think or feel. What you did was hard to watch...hard to process.”

Coach Hedge chewed on a stick. “I gotta agree with the girl on this one, kid. Smashing somebody’s head in with a baseball bat, that’s one thing. But ghostifying that creep? That was some dark stuff.”

Nico expected to feel angry—to shout at them for trying to judge him. That’s what he normally did.

But his anger wouldn’t materialize. He still felt plenty of rage toward Bryce Lawrence, and Gaea, and the giants. He wanted to find the augur Octavian and strangle him with his chain belt. But he wasn’t mad at Reyna or the coach.

“Why did you bring me back?” he asked. “You knew I couldn’t help you anymore. You should’ve found another way to keep going with the statue. But you wasted three days watching over me. Why?”

Coach Hedge snorted. “You’re part of the team, you idiot. We’re not going to leave you behind.”

“It’s more than that.” Reyna rested her hand on Nico’s. “While you were asleep, I did a lot of thinking. What I told you about my father...I’d never shared that with anyone. I guess I knew you were the right person to confide in. You lifted some of my burden. I trust you, Nico.”

Nico stared at her, mystified. “How can you trust me? You both felt my anger, saw my worst feelings...”

“Hey, kid,” said Coach Hedge, his tone softer. “We all get angry. Even a sweetheart like me.”

Reyna smirked. She squeezed Nico’s hand. “Coach is right, Nico. You’re not the only one who lets out the darkness once in a while. I told you what happened with my dad, and you supported me. You shared your painful experiences; how can we not support you? We’re friends.”

Nico wasn’t sure what to say. They’d seen his deepest secrets. They knew who he was, what he was.

But they didn’t seem to care. No...they cared more.

They weren’t judging him. They were concerned. None of it made sense to him.

“But Bryce. I...” Nico couldn’t continue.

“You did what had to be done. I see that now,” Reyna said. “Just promise me, no more turning people into ghosts if we can avoid it.”

“Yeah,” Coach said. “Unless you let me whale on them first. Besides, it’s not all bad news.”

Reyna nodded. “We’ve seen no sign of other Romans, so it appears Bryce didn’t notify anyone else where he was. Also, no sign of Orion. Hopefully that means he was taken down by the Hunters.”


- The Blood of Olympus, Chapters 30, 31, and 32