The Battle of the Labyrinth

sing-along to pick up our spirits, but Nico turned and disappeared into the woods. I decided I’d better follow him.
    As I passed under the shadows of the trees, I realized how dark it was getting. I’d never been scared in the forest before, though I knew there were plenty of monsters. Still, I thought about yesterday’s battle, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to walk in these woods again without remembering the horror of so much fighting.
    I couldn’t see Nico, but after a few minutes of walking I saw a glow up ahead. At first I thought Nico had lit a torch. As I got closer, I realized the glow was a ghost. The shimmering form of Bianca di Angelo stood in the clearing, smiling at her brother. She said something to him and touched his face—or tried to. Then her image faded.
    Nico turned and saw me, but he didn’t look mad.
    “Saying good-bye,” he said hoarsely.
    “We missed you at dinner,” I said. “You could’ve sat with me.”
    “No.”
    “Nico, you can’t miss every meal. If you don’t want to stay with Hermes, maybe they can make an exception and put you in the Big House. There’ve got plenty of rooms.”
    “I’m not staying, Percy.”
    “But . . . you can’t just leave. It’s too dangerous out there for a lone half-blood. You need to train.”
    “I train with the dead,” he said flatly. “This camp isn’t for me. There’s a reason they didn’t put a cabin to Hades here, Percy. He’s not welcome, any more than he is on Olympus. I don’t belong. I have to go.”
    I wanted to argue, but part of me knew he was right. I didn’t like it, but Nico would have to find his own, dark way. I remembered in Pan’s cave, how the wild god had addressed each one of us individually . . . except Nico.
    “When will you go?” I asked.
    “Right away. I’ve got tons of questions. Like who was my mother? Who paid for Bianca and me to go to school? Who was that lawyer guy who got us out of the Lotus Hotel? I know nothing about my past. I need to find out.”
    “Makes sense,” I admitted. “But I hope we don’t have to be enemies.”
    He lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry I was a brat. I should’ve listened to you about Bianca.”
    “By the way . . .” I fished something out of my pocket. “Tyson found this while we were cleaning the cabin. Thought you might want it.” I held out a lead figurine of Hades—the little Mythomagic statue Nico had abandoned when he fled camp last winter.
    Nico hesitated. “I don’t play that game anymore. It’s for kids.”
    “It’s got four thousand attack power,” I coaxed.
    “Five thousand,” Nico corrected. “But only if your opponent attacks first.”
    I smiled. “Maybe it’s okay to still be a kid once in a while.” I tossed him the statuette.
    Nico studied it in his palm for a few seconds, then slipped it into his pocket. “Thanks.”
    I put out my hand. He shook reluctantly. His hand was as cold as ice.
    “I’ve got a lot of things to investigate,” he said. “Some of them . . . Well, if I learn anything useful, I’ll let you know.”
    I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I nodded. “Keep in touch, Nico.”
    He turned and trudged off into the woods. The shadows seemed to bend toward him as he walked, like they were reaching out for his attention.
    A voice right behind me said, “There goes a very troubled young man.”
    I turned and found Dionysus standing there, still in his black suit.
    “Walk with me,” he said.
    “Where to?” I asked suspiciously.
    “Just to the campfire,” he said. “I was beginning to feel better, so I thought I would talk with you a bit. You always manage to annoy me.”
    “Uh, thanks.”
    We walked through the woods in silence. I noticed that Dionysus was treading on air, his polished black shoes hovering an inch off the ground. I guess he didn’t want to get them dirty.
    “We have had many betrayals,” he said. “Things are not looking good for Olympus. Yet you and Annabeth saved this camp. I’m not sure I should thank you for that.”
    “It was a group effort.”
    He shrugged. “Regardless, I suppose it was mildly competent, what you two did. I thought you should know—it wasn’t a total loss.”
    We reached the amphitheater, and Dionysus pointed toward the campfire. Clarisse was sitting shoulder to shoulder with a big Hispanic kid who was telling her a joke. It was Chris Rodriguez, the half-blood who’d gone insane in the Labyrinth.
    I turned to Dionysus. “You cured