Ascension

Chapter One - Part Two

8:27 AM

Nico shook his head, pushing the memory of the previous day aside. He was in his Camp Half-Blood cabin, not New Rome. He quietly slipped out of bed, the sheets rustling softly. He grabbed a pair of black jeans and a loose, dark grey t-shirt—his standard uniform—from his open duffel bag.

"Nico." The word was a low, tired murmur, but it hit him like a physical blow. He froze with one leg halfway into his jeans, nearly causing him to topple over.

"Go back to sleep, Sunshine," Nico ordered, not turning around. "Just a quick trip. Nothing to worry about."

He heard the creak of the springs as Will sat up. A warm, muscled hand wrapped around his forearm, pulling him gently but firmly until they were nearly nose to nose. Will's eyes were still heavy with sleep, his blonde curls a mess, and his face creased from the pillow, but the look in his bright blue eyes was wide awake and determined. He wore only a pair of orange Camp Half-Blood track shorts.

"You wake up hyperventilating, you have a midnight meeting with your father, and now you're trying to sneak out without so much as a 'Be back in an hour'?" Will's voice was low and steady, laced with a familiar worry. "That's not a 'quick trip,' Nico. That's a suicide mission in the making. What did he want?"

Nico sighed, realizing the futility of arguing. Will had developed an almost preternatural sense for when Nico was trying to handle something dangerous alone. "He wants me to go to New Mexico. The Carlsbad Caverns. To pick up my sister."

Will blinked slowly, processing the information. "Your sister? Not Hazel or Bianca?"

"Melinoë. Apparently, my father is a walking infringement on the Big Three oath," Nico deadpanned, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "She's three. She's been hidden there since birth."

"A three-year-old sister," Will repeated, a soft look replacing the worry in his eyes. "Okay. We're going."

"No," Nico hissed, pulling his arm free. "I just traveled yesterday, Will. We both know a round trip to New Mexico could wipe me out. It's too dangerous to bring you along."

Will stood up, closing the small distance between them. He rested his hands on Nico's shoulders, his gaze unwavering. "You're not going alone. We agreed, Death Boy. No more solo death wishes. You've said it yourself, your shadow travel is getting better—less taxing. I need to see that for myself, and I'm a healer, Nico. I'm the best one you've got. If something goes wrong, I need to be there to fix it immediately. Plus, picking up a toddler from a cave requires more than one pair of hands. I'm an expert in handling tiny, fragile things, remember?" he added with a gentle smile, referring to his time in the infirmary.

Nico searched his eyes, seeing the genuine love and resolve there, and the corner of his mouth twitched up slightly in surrender. "Fine. But if you complain about the shadows, I'm calling Jules-Albert and leaving you with him."

"You act like that's a punishment...but deal. Wait up," Will said, quickly throwing on a grey Cabin 7 t-shirt and a worn denim jacket over his shorts. He grabbed a small, worn leather medical bag from the shelf, ensuring it was stocked with nectar, ambrosia, and other essentials. Pausing momentarily he snatched a plush Mythomagic Hippogryph he had given Nico one Christmas.

Nico took Will's hand, his expression softening just a fraction as the memory played in his head. "Hold tight."

The shadows erupted around them, the world dissolving into a suffocating, chilling pressure. The familiar, sickening lurch was there, but it passed quicker than Nico expected, the shadow-tendrils feeling less like knives and more like a tight hug. It still left him gasping, but he didn't feel the sudden, desperate pull toward the abyss. He was standing, not collapsing.

Will immediately checked him over, hands flying to his pulse point on his neck. "Well?"

Nico took a deep, steadying breath, frowning slightly. "Less bad. Way less bad. But it's still bad enough."

Will, however, was already looking concerned. "It was faster, Nico. And you're not as pale as you should be. You're resisting the draw of the shadows more than you've ever done before. That's... that's a big change."

Nico clenched his jaw, dodging Will's worried blue eyes. "It's seven years of practice, Solace. Let's go."

They found themselves in a large, echoing cavern. The air was cool and smelled faintly of limestone and earth. Torches flickered on the walls, casting dramatic shadows that danced and twisted. This was the Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico—a grand, subterranean cathedral carved by centuries of water.

They followed a light tugging sensation until they heard a low, musical sound leading down a winding path. Entering a smaller, more domestic-looking cave chamber they noticed it was surprisingly warm and well-lit by a large, smooth stone fireplace, though the smoke vanished magically into a fissure in the ceiling. A soft, woven rug covered the floor, and a little, four-poster bed was tucked into a nook.

A young girl was sitting on the rug, surrounded by a scattered collection of small, crudely carved wooden animal figurines—a horse, a badger, a snake. She was tiny, with a shock of jet-black hair and skin that was unnervingly pale, much like Hades. She wore a simple, child-sized white linen dress. Her most striking feature was her eyes; wide and black, they were fixed not on her toys but on a point just beyond them, a deep, unseeing gaze.

A figure shimmered nearby, a slightly translucent woman with an old-fashioned mortician's dress and a gentle, spectral glow. This was the nanny, one of the ghosts Hades had assigned to watch over Melinoë.

"Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, and Will Solace, son of Apollo," the ghost said, her voice a dry, sorrowful whisper. "Welcome! We were expecting you."

Nico nodded his thanks to the ghost then stepped forward, swallowing hard as he knelt down. The little girl—Melinoë—stopped her soft humming and turned her head toward the sound of his voice. He could see the milky quality of her gaze, the blindness Will had sensed with his demigod healing senses.

"Hi," Nico said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I'm Nico. I'm your big brother."

Melinoë tilted her head, a soft, bubbly laugh escaping her. She reached out a small, pale hand, her fingers brushing one of the wooden figurines—the horse—before finding and tracing the stitching on Nico's jeans.

"Dark," she whispered, her voice surprisingly bright for the daughter of Hades. "You smell like dirt and sunshine."

Will moved closer, his heart melting instantly. "That's me, little one. I'm the sunshine part. My name is Will."

Melinoë giggled again. "Smells nice."

"We're here to take you somewhere safe, Melinoë," Nico explained, his eyes meeting the ghost-nanny's. "To a summer camp for demigods. Our dad sent us. It's time for you to meet your other sister, Hazel, and your big uncle, Percy."

"The Lord Hades was most distressed," the ghost sighed, her spectral form wavering. "She's happy here, but she's begun to talk to things that are not here. Animals that passed over the mountain range days ago. She needs the help only others like her can give."

Melinoë suddenly pointed a finger at the ground where a small, black and grey striped mouse had been moments before. "Badger wants you to be happy, big brother. He said he smells his favorite food on your knee. He wants you to give it to him."

Nico frowned, looking down. There was nothing on his knee. He suddenly remembered the half-eaten cinnamon roll he had shoved into his pocket from breakfast the day before. He pulled out the now-squished, sticky pastry and offered it to the spot where the mouse had been.

"She's blind," Will murmured, his hand resting reassuringly on Nico's back. "And she can communicate with the deceased animals. That's her connection to the dead."

The air in the cave felt suddenly heavier, and the flickering torchlight seemed to cast sharp, skeletal-looking shadows on the walls. For just a few seconds there was a distinctly familiar but slightly different melancholy shift in the emotion of the room. As if summoned, a shadow detached itself from the back of the cave—a massive black dog, bigger than a Great Dane, but with the distinct, unnerving gait of a creature of the Underworld. It padded silently over to Melinoë, nuzzling her hand softly before licking it.

"Soul hound," Melinoë confirmed, running her hand over the soft, black fur. "His name is Jasper."

Nico choked back a laugh. "Of course, it is. We need to go, Melinoë. It's a long trip."

The ghost helped them quickly gather a small, worn satchel of Melinoë's few possessions. Nico gently scooped up the three-year-old, holding her close to his chest, the weight of a sister he never knew was both foreign and profoundly comforting. She felt like a delicate, tiny shadow–one that he would not let go of.

"Ready, Death Boy?" Will asked, his hand already on Nico's shoulder, a beacon of warmth against the chill of the cave.

"Ready," Nico confirmed, looking at the little girl in his arms.

He stepped into the shadows. This time, the journey was even quicker, almost instantaneous, but the energy drain was severe. They materialized back in Cabin 13, and Nico stumbled, his knees buckling.

Will caught him instantly, taking Melinoë from his arms and settling her gently onto their bed. He paused, seeing her small hands clutch at the worn plush Hippogryph he'd placed beside her. She looked up at him with her dark, unseeing eyes and gave a small, happy hum. Heback to Nico, who was leaning heavily against the wall, beads of sweat on his pale forehead.

"Nico, you nearly passed out that time," Will scolded, immediately pulling out a small water skin and more ambrosia. "It was definitely faster, but the cost is still too high. Something's wrong. This isn't just normal demigod growth."

Nico shook his head, pushing Will's hand away and staggering over to his desk, where a half-finished game of Mythomagic was waiting. "I'm fine, Solace. Just tired. Now, let's see what we're going to do with a blind, three-year-old daughter of Hades who talks to dead mice."

Melinoë, however, was already busy. She was sitting in the middle of Nico's bed, Jasper—the soul hound—curled up at her feet. She had picked up a worn, silver-framed photo from the nightstand—a picture of a smiling, dark-haired boy and a tall, smiling girl standing in front of a giant, spooky house. Bianca and Nico. She ran her tiny, cold finger over the glass, a faint, metallic shimmer tracing her touch.

"Big Sister," Melinoë announced simply, a soft, melancholic sound in her voice. "She misses you very much, Nico. She says you need to look up."

Nico froze, his breath hitching. Bianca was gone, and she was spoken of rarely. He looked up, his eyes meeting Will's, both of them suddenly seeing the gold flecks that were now undeniable in the darkness of Nico's eyes—a color that had never been there before. A subtle, terrifying shift.

Will was right. This wasn't just nothing and the sooner they could get answers the better, but first they needed to get Melinoë settled and Nico needed a nap.