ON THIS SPRING DAY
━━━━━ chapter seven

━━━━━ THE HOUSE WAS homey enough, the only thing that made Violet hate the place was the fact Geryon and Eurytion tied them up the minute they entered. Bounded by the wrists and ankles, she, Nico, Grover, Annabeth, and Tyson were tied together by rope and tossed into the corner. It truly was uncomfortable, and not an experience she would recommend to any.

               The five of them had been tossed into the corner, tied up like rodeo animals, and watched helplessly as Geryon started grilling. Geryon had ordered Eurytion to gag the captive, but the son of Ares had gotten a bit lazy.

               After tying them all up and tossing them in a corner, he sat down, picking at his nails with his knife. It would've been wise to not speak at all, hoping Geryon didn't realize Eurtyion had slack off, but Violet couldn't help herself.

               "What kind son of Ares sides with a monster?"

               Eurytion glanced at her in a tired manner. "A son of Ares like me."

               "I don't think Ares would like that very much," she replied. "Wouldn't he want you to, you know, pulverize him?"

               Eurytion snorted. "There's a lot for you to learn, Daughter of Eros. Tell me—do you blindly do what you think your father would want you to do?"

               "Well ..." She shifted, picking at the ropes around her wrists. "Well, no."

               Violet's father had told her a lot of things last winter, many of which she chose to ignore. Most were mildly embarrassing ( imagine talking about your love life with your father, even if he was the God of Love! ), but some made her skin prickle. Going on quests to prove herself; recognition for a daughter of a minor god; and Dahlia.

               As much as she outwardly denied it, a lot of the reasons she went on the quest last year was to prove that children of minor gods were just as capable as children of the twelve Olympians. Never once—as far as Violet was aware—had a child of a minor god gone on such an important quest. And sure, she had proved herself capable as a child of Eros, but that quest also unveiled a lot of secrets and questions she hadn't known she was looking for.

               And sure, now people didn't overlook her as much. But she wasn't exactly sure anymore if that was a good thing.

               And Dahlia—well, a lot had changed. For better, and for worse. For better; at least Violet and Dahlia were talking. For worse; they were both keeping secrets from one another, and they both knew the other was keeping secrets.

               However, perhaps secrets were something the Beaumonts were wonderful at.

               Violet shook her head. "Okay, sure, maybe I don't do everything Eros wants me to, but that doesn't mean I'm going to spite him and fight for a monster."

               Eurytion shrugged, lounging in his chair, petting his two-headed dog at his feet. The daughter of Eros gritted her teeth.

               "You could at least pretend to give a shit about what I'm saying." She rolled her eyes.

               "Keep talking and I'll listen to Geryon and gag you all."

               Annabeth sent Violet a warning look. "Sir—Mr. Eurytion—whatever—why do you stay here and deal with Geryon? He's not very kind to you. He bosses you around."

               "Perhaps that's because he's my boss," the son of Ares quipped.

               "He's trying to sell Nico off and get money for it," Annabeth continued. "And if Percy doesn't get those stables clean, he'll sell us, too. How can you stand by and let that happen? Shouldn't you help fellow half-bloods?"

               His eyes were cold as they narrowed on the daughter of Athena. "Every half-blood for themselves, is what I think."

               Violet frowned. "How'd you even end up with Geryon, anyways?"

               "I accepted immortality when offered it by the gods," explained Eurytion. "If you live long enough, here's a word of advice; don't accept the gods' offer of immortality. I've been stuck here ever since. It's not like I want to fight for Geryon, but I have no other choice."

               "Sure you do," Violet insisted. "Set us free. We'll find a way out. Tell Geryon we escaped. I dunno. Say you fought really hard and we ended up beating you. Whatever it takes."

               Tyson nodded. "You can untie us, we find Percy, and we escape this evil ranch."

               "Geryon's got three torsos and six legs, and you think you'd be able to escape without him noticing?" Eurytion scoffed. "I forget how confident half-bloods can be ..."

               "How does fighting for Geryon benefit you?" Annabeth pressed. "You do all his dirty work. Don't you want to rest? Have a day off? Not be told what to do? Who to fight?"

               Eurytion narrowed his eyes on them, as if analyzing their minds. "Daughter of Athena, right?"

               Annabeth nodded.

               "Word of advice; you can't talk your way out of every scenario."

               "It's been working pretty well for the past few years," the blonde countered. "I've talked my way out of plenty of dangerous spots before."

               Eurytion snorted. He nodded to Violet. "Eros's kid?"

               She narrowed her eyes on the son of Ares. "Yeah, so what?"

               "Makes you my niece, if you want to follow godly families," Eurytion pointed out. "I don't suggest you do—it'll confuse you more than anything."

               "What are you getting at?" she demanded.

               Eurytion considered for a moment. "I figure immorality feels very similar to what it must feel like to be a child of a minor god—endless hope for recognition. I might be wrong, but I don't believe that I am."

               Violet scowled at the son of Ares. "You're saying a lot of words to not just say you're not gonna untie us."

               He shrugged. "Talking wastes time."

               "That it does." Geryon strode into the house with an evil sort of grin on his face. "Euyrtion, gag them."

🌷

By the time Percy made it back, Geryon was casually flipping burgers on a huge barbecue cooker made from an oil drum. Eurytion lounged at a picnic table this time, picking his fingernails with a knife. The two-headed dog sniffed the ribs and burgers that were frying on the grill. And the five were still tossed away in the corner, wrists and ankles tied together, and mouths gagged to prevent them from talking.

               "Let them go!" Percy yelled, out of breath from running up the steps. "I cleaned the stables!"

               Geryon turned. He wore an apron on each chest, with one word on each, so together they spelled out: KISS—THE—CHEF. "Did you, now? How'd you manage it?"

               Percy sounded impatient, but he told the man. Something about a naiad, shells, and hungry, talking horses.

               Geryon nodded appreciatively. "Very ingenious. It would've been better if you'd poisoned that pesky naiad, but no matter."

               "Let my friends go," Percy insisted. "We had a deal."

               "Ah, I've been thinking about that. The problem is, if I let them go, I don't get paid." He shrugged innocently. "That's truly a problem. For me, of course."

               "You promised!"

               Geryon made a tsk~tsk noise. "But did you make me swear on the River Styx? No, you didn't. So it's not binding. When you're conducting business, sonny, you should always get a binding oath."

               In Percy fashion, he drew Riptide. Orthus growled. One head leaned down next to Grover's ear and bared its fangs.

               "Eurytion," Geryon said, "the boy is starting to annoy me. Kill him."

               Eurytion studied Percy. Violet wondered how Percy could ever fair against the huge club beside the son of Ares.

               "Kill him yourself," Eurytion said.

               Geryon raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

               "You heard me," Eurytion grumbled. "You keep sending me out to do your dirty work. You pick fights for no good reason, and I'm tired of dying for you. You want to fight the kid, do it yourself."

               It was the most un-Ares-like thing Violet had ever heard a son of Ares say.

               Geryon threw down his spatula. "You dare defy me? I should fire you right now!"

               "And who'd take care of your cattle? Orthus, heel."

               The dog immediately stopped growling at Grover and came to sit by the cowherd's feet.

               "Fine!" Geryon snarled. "I'll deal with you later, after the boy is dead!"

               He picked up two carving knives and threw them at Percy. The son of Poseidon deflected one with Riptide. The other impaled itself in the picnic table, an inch from Eurytion's hand.

               Not surprisingly, Percy went on the attack. Geryon parried his first strike with a pair of red-hot tongs and lunged at Percy's face with a barbecue fork. The son of Poseidon got inside his next thrust and stabbed him right through the middle chest.

               Geryon crumpled to his knees. Violet waited for him to disintegrate, the way monsters usually do. But instead, he just grimaced and began to stand up. The bleeding slice through his chef's apron started to heal.

               "Nice try, sonny," he said. "Thing is, I have three hearts. The perfect backup system."

               He tipped over the barbecue, and coals spilled everywhere. One landed next to Annabeth's face, and she let out a muffled scream. Tyson strained against his bonds, but even his strength wasn't enough to break them.

               Percy jabbed Geryon in the left chest, but he only laughed. Percy stuck him in the right stomach. No good. He might as well have been sticking a sword in a teddy bear for all the reaction Geryon gave.

               Three hearts. The perfect backup system. Stabbing one at a time was no good—

               Percy ran into the house.

               "Coward!" Geryon yelled after the boy. "Come back and die right!"

               The three-bodied man ran after Percy, and Violet hobbled to her feet, bouncing to stay upright. She braced herself against the railing to see inside the windows. The living room walls were decorated with a bunch of gruesome hunting trophies—stuffed deer and dragon heads, a gun case, a sword display, and a bow with a quiver.

               Geryon threw his barbecue fork, and it thudded into the wall right next to Percy's head. He drew two swords from the wall display. "Your head's gonna go right there, Jackson! Next to the grizzly bear!"

               Then, Percy did something stupid.

               ( It wasn't surprising as it once had been by now. )

               The son of Poseidon dropped Riptide and grabbed the bow off the wall.

               Sure, sounded smart—in theory. But in reality, it was horrible. Percy was one of the worst archers Violet had ever met. And it wasn't Violet's need for archery perfection talking; she can understand when someone's strengths lie in close-ranged weapons instead of far-ranged weapons.

               But Percy ... Truly, Violet didn't know what else to say besides the fact Percy Jackson had to be the worst archer she had ever met. Percy with a bow in hand was just as dangerous as Violet Beaumont deadset on giving lovesick classmate advice on how to confess to his crush—which may or may not have been her—when her mother, Percy, and Annabeth all warned her against. ( And perhaps that had happened once. And telling Percy and him saying to her in a sing-songy Told you so would be the most humbling—humiliating—moment of her life. )

               The point is, Percy wasn't the best at archery. In fact, he was probably the worst. So, in Violet's mind, it didn't make much sense as to why he would grab a bow and a quiver of arrows.

               He notched an arrow, hands shaking just enough that it would throw off his shot. Violet gritted her teeth, corrections on how Percy was holding the bow on the tip of her tongue.

               Geryon laughed. "You fool! One arrow is no better than one sword."

               He raised his swords and charged.

               Percy dove sideways. Before he could turn, Percy shot an arrow into the side of Geryon's right chest. Violet heard THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, as the arrow passed clean through each of his chests and flew out his left side, embedding itself in the forehead of the grizzly bear trophy.

               Geryon dropped his swords. He turned and stared at Percy. "You can't shoot. They told me you couldn't ..."

               His face turned a sickly shade of green. He collapsed to his knees and began crumbling into sand, until all that was left were three cooking aprons and an oversized pair of cowboy boots.

               Percy untied the five. Violet was halfway between hugging and hitting him. Instead, she settled for grumbling a compliment ( and a small insult to add ). "That wasn't bad—but you held the bow all wrong."

               He rolled his eyes. "Oh, forgive me, All Mighty Archer."

               She scowled. "You're lucky that even worked out," she insisted. "I've seen you at archery practice."

               Percy flushed a bit. "Well, it wasn't all luck—maybe. I prayed to Artemis and Apollo while I was aiming."

               Violet put her hands on her hips. "You didn't pray to my dad? That's a bit insulting to hear ..."

               He sighed. "I was panicked, okay? I prayed to whatever gods crossed my mind."

               She rolled her eyes. "Excuses, excuses, Jackson."

               Percy stoked up the barbecue and threw the food into the flames as a burnt offering to Artemis and Apollo.

               "Thanks, guys," he said. "I owe you one."

               Violet rummaged through her pant pockets, tossing in a piece of gum from her pack.

               Percy eyed her. "For Apollo?"

               She snorted. "Gods, no. For Artemis."

               "Not thinking of joining, are you?" He looked casual about it, but Violet noticed the way he busied himself with tossing in another piece of cow meat. "I know last year she asked and all. I would—I mean, it would suck if you joined."

               She glanced over to Nico, who hung in a shadowy corner. "No, not that. I just like her better than I like Apollo."

               The sky thundered in the distance. That could've meant two things—the twin archers took the offerings, or Apollo was annoyed at Violet's comments about liking Artemis better than him. She figured it was the former since the God of the Sun probably didn't care too much whether or not a daughter of Eros liked him or not.

               "Yay for Percy!" Tyson said.

               "Can we tie up this cowherd now?" Nico asked.

               "Yeah!" Grover agreed. "And that dog almost killed me!"

               Violet looked at Eurytion, who was still sitting, relaxed, at the picnic table. Orthus had both his heads on the cowherd's knees.

               "Why didn't you kill us?" she asked, narrowing her eyes on him.

               He shrugged. "You two ladies might've talked some sense into me."

               Annabeth rubbed her wrists, which were sore from the rope. "So you did listen to what we were saying."

               "How long will it take Geryon to re-form?" Percy asked him.

               Eurytion thought for a moment. "Hundred years? He's not one of those fast re-formers, thank the gods. You've done me a favor."

               "You said you'd died for him before," Percy remembered. "How?"

               "I've worked for that creep for thousands of years. Started as a regular half-blood, but I chose immortality when my dad offered it. Worst mistake I ever made. Now I'm stuck here at this ranch. I can't leave. I can't quit. I just tend the cows and fight Geryon's fights. We're kinda tied together."

               "But you can change that," Violet insisted.

               Eurytion narrowed his eyes. "How?"

               "Just 'cause you're tied to Geryon doesn't mean you have to fight his fights." Violet shrugged. "Technically, you don't have to do shit for him. And you could be nice to the animals. Take care of them. Stop selling them for food. And stop dealing with the Titans."

               Eurytion thought about what she said. "That'd be all right."

               "Get the animals on your side, and they'll help you. Once Geryon gets back, maybe he'll be working for you this time."

               The son of Ares grinned. "Now that I could live with."

               "You won't try to stop us leaving?" Annabeth asked.

               "Shoot, no."

               The daughter of Athena was still looking at Eurytion suspiciously. "Your boss said that somebody paid for our safe passage. Who?"

               The cowherd shrugged. "Maybe he was just saying that to fool you."

               "What about the Titans?" Violet asked. "Did you Iris Message them about Nico yet?"

               "Nope. Geryon was waiting until after the barbecue. They don't know anything about him."

               Nico was glaring at Percy. Violet knew the son of Hades well enough to know he would never travel with them, especially not with Percy Jackson in their ranks. But, on the other hand, Violet couldn't let him roam this place with that ghost whispering into his ear ...

               "You could stay here until we're done with our quest," Percy told him. "It would be safe."

               "Safe?" Nico hissed. "What do you care if I'm safe? You got my sister killed!"

               "Nico," Annabeth said, "that wasn't Percy's fault. And Geryon wasn't lying about Kronos wanting to capture you. If he knew who you were, he'd do anything to get you on his side."

               "I'm not on anyone's side. And I'm not afraid!"

               Violet laid a hand on his arm. Half of her expected him to jump away, but he just looked at her. "Maybe you're not afraid," she agreed. "But you should to be. Nico, you shouldn't be exploring the Labyrinth on your own. And not even with Minos with you."

               "So I should go exploring it with you, then?" he countered.

               She straightened, nerves steeling. "I—I'm saying you shouldn't go exploring at all."

               He scoffed. "That's rich coming from you."

               Violet glanced at the others; Percy and Annabeth stared on with looks of confusion. "Look, Nico," she blubbered for a change of topic, "your sister wouldn't want—"

               "If you actually gave a shit about me or my sister, Violet, you would help me bring her back!"

               "A soul for a soul?" Percy spoke up.

               "Yes!"

               "But if you didn't want my soul—"

               "I'm not explaining anything to you!" Nico blinked tears out of his eyes. "And I will bring her back."

               Violet was at a loss for words. She had no idea this is what Nico had been doing when she wasn't around. Trying to bring back his dead sister.

               "Bianca wouldn't want to be brought back," Percy said. "Not like that."

               "You didn't know her!" Nico shouted. "How do you know what she'd want?"

               Violet stared at the flames in the barbecue pit. She thought about the line in Annabeth's prophecy: You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand. That had to be Minos. Violet was sure that line was about him now. If Nico kept hanging around Minos, and Minos kept influencing Nico ...

               "Let's ask Bianca," Percy decided.

               The sky seemed to grow darker all of a sudden.

               "I've tried," Nico said miserably. "She won't answer."

               "Try again. I've got a feeling she'll answer, with me here."

               "Why would she?"

               "Because she's been sending me Iris Messages," Percy said. "She's been trying to warn me what you're up to, so I can protect you."

               Nico shook his head. "That's impossible."

               "One way to find out. You said you're not afraid." Percy turned to Eurytion. "We're going to need a pit, like a grave. And food and drinks."

               "Percy." Violet's voice was anxious. "I don't think this is a good—"

               "Let's see what Percy's on about," Nico decided, giving her a hard look. "I'll  try and summon Bianca again."

               Eurytion scratched his beard. "There's a hole dug out back for a septic tank. We could use that. Cyclops boy, fetch my ice chest from the kitchen. I hope the dead like root beer."

🌷

Nothing says Summoning the dead like using a twenty-foot-long pit in front of a septic tank in the dead of night.

               The tank was bright yellow, with a smiley face and red words painted on the side: HAPPY FLUSH DISPOSAL CO. It didn't quite go with the mood of summoning the dead, in Violet's opinion.

               The moon was full. Silver clouds drifted across the sky.

               "Minos should be here by now," Nico said, frowning. "It's full dark."

               "Maybe he got lost," Percy said hopefully.

               Nico poured root beer and tossed barbecue into the pit, then began chanting in Ancient Greek. Immediately, the bugs in the woods stopped chirping. That tightening feeling in Violet's chest began; the feeling of cold seeping into her veins started at the tips of her fingers and spread into her arms, shoulders, and chest.

               "Make him stop," Tyson whispered.

               Part of Violet agreed with the Cyclops. This was as unnatural to her as bending darkness. But ... bending darkness had been unnatural to Violet. Now, it wasn't. It had almost become as natural as notching an arrow and letting it fly.

               The night air felt cold and menacing. And before Violet knew it, the first spirits appeared. Sulfurous mist seeped out of the ground. Shadows thickened into human forms. One blue shade drifted to the edge of the pit and knelt to drink.

               "Stop him!" Nico said, momentarily breaking his chant. "Only Bianca may drink!"

               Percy drew Riptide. The ghosts retreated with a collective hiss at the sight of the Celestial bronze blade. But it was too late to stop the first spirit. He had already solidified into the shape of a bearded man in white robes. A circlet of gold wreathed his head, and even in death, his eyes were alive with malice.

               "Minos!" Nico said. "What are you doing?"

               "My apologies, master," the ghost said, though he didn't sound very sorry. "The sacrifice smelled so good, I couldn't resist." He examined his own hands and smiled. "It is good to see myself again. Almost in solid form—"

               "You are disrupting the ritual!" Nico protested. "Get—"

               The spirits of the dead began shimmering dangerously bright, and Nico had to take up the chant again to keep them at bay.

               "Yes, quite right, master," Minos said with amusement. "You keep chanting. I've only come to protect you from these liars who would deceive you."

               He turned to Percy, his expression filled with disgust. "Percy Jackson ... my, my. The sons of Poseidon haven't improved over the centuries, have they?"

               Violet put a hand out before Percy could try and charge the ghost. "Minos, no one here is lying but you. You're whispering bag things to Nico to make him go down a bad road. Besides—not changing over centuries? Neither have you. You're still just as crazy—now and then."

               She struck a nerve within the transparent asshole. Minos's eyes slid over to Violet, burning with anger. "A daughter of Eros ..." he said airly. "I met someone like you once. Very similar in fact. Though, not a daughter of Eros. And I met her in death."

               Her eyebrows furrowed. "What are you on about?"

               Minos shrugged. "I suppose it'll all make much more sense once revealed. That's how it always works, right?"

               Violet wanted to ask the ghost what he meant, but Percy spoke first; "We're looking for Bianca di Angelo. Get lost, Minos."

               The ghost chuckled. "I understand you once killed my Minotaur with your bare hands. But worse things await you in the maze. Do you really believe Daedalus will help you?"

               The other spirits stirred in agitation. Annabeth drew her knife and helped Percy keep them away from the pit. Violet stood at the edge, her expression unreadable. Grover got so nervous he clung to Tyson's shoulder.

               "Daedalus cares nothing for you, half-bloods," Minos warned. "You can't trust him. He is old beyond counting, and crafty. He is bitter from the guilt of murder and is cursed by the gods."

               "The guilt of murder?" Violet asked. "Who did he kill?"

               "Do not change the subject!" the ghost growled. "You are hindering Nico. You try to persuade him to give up his goal. I would make him a lord!"

               "Enough, Minos," Nico commanded.

               The ghost sneered. "Master, these are your enemies. You must not listen to them! Let me protect you. I will turn their minds to madness, as I did the others."

               "The others?" Annabeth gasped. "You mean Chris Rodriguez? That was you?"

               "The maze is my property," the ghost said, "not Daedalus's! Those who intrude deserve madness."

               "Begone, Minos!" Nico demanded. "I want to see my sister!"

               The ghost bit back his rage. "As you wish, master. But I warn you. You cannot trust these heroes. I led you to the daughter of Eros, but that does not mean she is trustworthy."

               With that, he faded into mist. Other spirits rushed forward, but Annabeth and Percy kept them back.

               "Bianca, appear!" Nico intoned. He started chanting faster, and the spirits shifted restlessly.

               "Any time now," Grover muttered.

               Then a silvery light flickered in the trees—a spirit that seemed brighter and stronger than the others. It came closer, and something told me to let it pass. It knelt to drink at the pit.

               When it arose, it was the ghostly form of Bianca di Angelo.

               Nico's chanting faltered. Percy lowered Riptide. The other spirits started to crowd forward, but Bianca raised her arms and they retreated into the woods.

               "Hello, Percy," she said.

               She looked the same as she had in life: a green cap set sideways on her thick black hair, dark eyes, and olive skin like her brother. She wore jeans and a silvery jacket, the outfit of a Hunter of Artemis. A bow was slung over her shoulder. She smiled faintly, and her whole form flickered.

               "Bianca ..." said Percy, his voice croaky.

               There was a saying Dahlia always repeated to Violet; Never speak ill of the dead. The dead can hear you. Then, Violet rolled her eyes and scoffed, but now ... she wondered just how much her mother had been right about.

               Violet had spoken ill of the dead—and a lot. As a kid, everything seemed so obvious to her. You don't do this; you don't do that; but it was never that simple.

               Bianca di Angelo held a lot of images in Violet's mind; the many stages of getting to know a person. At first, Bianca was just a half-blood Violet could use to prove herself resourceful and powerful as the next demigod. Then Bianca turned into the girl who ditched her younger brother to join a band of immortal archers who hated boys ( even if those boys were your own brother ). And then, Bianca turned into a dead girl; a dead girl Violet was faulty for. Just like that.

               And the dead always becomes an enigma after they're dead. It's the process. Shock; anger; turmoil; unwillingness to accept the death; exaggerating and saying the dead person was better than they actually were. Violet had built these images of Bianca in her mind, and they were never correct—but they were never false, either. They were only parts of the bigger picture. Bianca very clearly had explained why she joined the Hunters—they offered this sense of freedom and individuality that always felt out of reach for her. Bianca had felt all she would ever be was a caregiver, an older sister tasked with raising a child that wasn't even her child.

               Violet never truly understood Bianca until she was dead. It was such cruel irony to never truly know the daughter of Hades until she was dead. Violet never understood the girl until she felt like she was trying to fill Bianca's shoes and be that caregiver for Nico.

               And Violet wondered if this was her retribution for speaking ill of the dead—to be face-to-face with the ghostly apparition of a girl Violet thought she was faulty for the death of.

               "I'm so sorry," Percy rushed, his voice thick with emotions. "I'm so sorry for letting you die. For letting you—for not stopping Talos myself. I promised Nico I would—"

               "You have nothing to apologize for, Percy. I made my own choice. I don't regret it."

               "Bianca!" Nico stumbled forward like he was just coming out of a daze.

               She turned towards her brother. Her expression was sad, as if she'd been dreading this moment. "Hello, Nico. You've got so tall."

               "Why didn't you answer me sooner?" he cried. "I've been trying for months!"

               "I was hoping you would give up."

               "Give up?" He sounded heartbroken. "How can you say that? I'm trying to save you!"

               "You can't, Nico. Don't do this. Percy is right."

               "No! He let you die! He's not your friend."

               Bianca's eyes slid over to Violet, who looked green in the face. "You need to listen to Violet, Nico. She truly wants what's best for you."

               Nico's chin quivered. "I don't care. I want you back."

               She stretched out a hand as if to touch her brother's face, but she was made of mist. Her hand evaporated as it got close to living skin.

               "You must listen to me," she said. "Holding grudges is dangerous for a child of Hades. It is our fatal flaw. You have to forgive. You have to promise me this."

               "I can't. Never."

               "Percy and Violet have been worried about you, Nico. They can help. I let Percy see what you were up to, hoping he would find you."

               "So it was you," Percy said. "You sent those Iris Messages."

               Bianca nodded.

               "Why are you helping him and not me?" Nico screamed. "It's not fair! I'm your brother!"

               "You are close to the truth now," Bianca told him. "It's not Percy you're mad at, Nico. It's me."

               "No."

               "You're mad because I left you to become a Hunter of Artemis. You're mad because I died and left you alone. I'm sorry for that, Nico. I truly am. But you must overcome the anger. And stop blaming Percy for my choices. It will be your doom."

               Violet swallowed, her hand itching to lay on Nico's shoulder. "She's right, Nico." Her voice was shaky. "You'll lose yourself to this if you keep trying."

               "Kronos is rising, Nico," Annabeth spoke up. "He'll twist anyone he can to his cause."

               "I don't care about Kronos," Nico said. "I just want my sister back."

               "You can't have that, Nico," Bianca told him gently.

               "I'm the son of Hades! I can."

               "Don't try," she said. "If you love me, don't ..."

               Her voice trailed off. Spirits had started to gather around them again, and they seemed agitated. Their shadows shifted. Their voices whispered, Danger!

               "Tartarus stirs," Bianca warned. "Your power draws the attention of Kronos. The dead must return to the Underworld. It is not safe for us to remain."

               "Wait," Nico said. "Please—"

               "Goodbye, Nico," Bianca said. "I love you. Remember what I said."

               Her form shivered and the ghosts disappeared, leaving them alone with a pit, a HAPPY FLUSH septic tank, and a cold full moon.

🌷 JULY 25TH, 2023 / i have a lot of thoughts but a lot of my thoughts surrounding nico and vi - them as people and them as friends/siblings (because they will eventually become that close) so i'll save it for the author's note

(which is far away from here but whatever)

what i will say is - i wish there had been more exploration of bianca's character and her decision to join the hunters - even in the fandom i wish there was more like genuine discussion instead of just "fuck bianca bc she made emo nico" or whatever the fuck nico babiers say (that's what i've dubbed them because that's genuinely what they do)

like personally i think it was really shitty for bianca to join the hunters,, but i can also look at it from another perspective and realize that desire for freedom and to no longer be a caretaker is what drove bianca to join (even if rick didn't mean for that to be the case - because he probably didn't)

(and maybe that's the younger sibling in me is poking out, but the younger sibling in me that wants to love my older sibling to the fullest degree - like i don't want to be resentful to my older sister because she is also weirdly similar to bianca)

i also want to hear what you guys think about the paragraphs i wrote about taking about the dead bc a lot of that was influenced by personal experience and made to fit within otsd

anyways,, thoughts?? opinions??

(not edited and barely proofread)