ON THIS SPRING DAY
━━━━━ chapter twenty

━━━━━ THERE WERE TOO MANY GOODBYES.

That night was the first time Violet actually saw camp burial shrouds used on bodies, and it was not something she ever wanted to see again. Part of her wondered if this is what people felt like when they thought they were attending her own burial shroud burning—this disgusting, gutted feeling; the feeling of guilt and shame.

Among the dead, Lee Fletcher from the Apollo Cabin had been downed by a giant's club. He was wrapped in a golden shroud without any decoration. Castor Winward, Son of Dionysus, was wrapped in a deep purple shroud, embroidered with grapevines. He had been seventeen years old—the same age as Lee. His twin brother, Pollux, tried to say a few words, but he choked up and just took the torch. He lit the funeral pyre in the middle of the amphitheater, and within seconds the row of shrouds was engulfed in fire, sending smoke and sparks up to the stars.

It wasn't the smoke suffocating her, it was the feeling of death. Violet's clenched fists shook as she braced them against her legs.

Nico sat down next to her as people shuffled out of the amphitheater. Once the last few stragglers stepped off the last step, he said, "You look sick."

"It's become almost ... worse," admitted Violet. "Now that I know."

"That's what it was like for me." Nico nodded. "You can almost feel like you can sense where they are—being judged, or in Fields of Asphodel, or ... other places."

"Why is that?" Violet asked. "I mean, Elain said the—powers changed, like the season. So why can I feel Death so easily? Persephone's not in the Underworld right now."

Nico shrugged. "Maybe it has to do with you knowing the full truth. Or because you discovered it in winter, so those abilities are stronger. Or ..." He took a deep breath. "Or maybe it's just the amount of death here."

Violet didn't bring up the tension in her chest. Or the fact the knot was released when she saw Lee Fletcher die.

They spent the next day treating the wounded, which was almost everyone. The satyrs and dryads worked to repair the damage to the woods.

At noon, the Council of Cloven Elders held an emergency meeting in their sacred grove. The three senior satyrs were there, along with Chiron, who was in wheelchair form. His broken horse leg was still mending, so he would be confined to the chair for a few months, until the leg was strong enough to take his weight. The grove was filled with satyrs and dryads and naiads up from the water—hundreds of them, anxious to hear what would happen. Juniper, Annabeth, Percy, and Violet stood by Grover's side.

Silenus wanted to exile Grover immediately, but Chiron persuaded him to at least hear evidence first, so the questers told everyone what had happened in the crystal cavern, and what Pan had said. Then several eyewitnesses from the battle described the weird sound Grover had made, which drove the Titans' army back underground.

"It was panic," insisted Juniper. "Grover summoned the power of the wild god."

"Panic?" asked Percy.

"Percy," Chiron explained, "during the first war of the gods and the Titans, Lord Pan let forth a horrible cry that scared away the enemy armies. It is—it was his greatest power—a massive wave of fear that helped the gods win the day. The word panic is named after Pan, you see. And Grover used that power, calling it forth from within himself."

"Preposterous!" Silenus bellowed. "Sacrilege! Perhaps the wild god favored us with a blessing. Or perhaps Grover's music was so awful it scared the enemy away!"

"That wasn't it, sir," Grover said. He sounded a lot calmer than Violet would have if Silenus had just said that to her. "He let his spirit pass into all of us. We must act. Each of us must work to renew the wild, to protect what's left of it. We must spread the word. Pan is dead. There is no one but us."

"After two thousand years of searching, this is what you would have us believe?" Silenus cried. "Never! We must continue the search. Exile the traitor!"

Some of the older satyrs muttered assent.

"A vote!" Silenus demanded. "Who would believe this ridiculous young satyr, anyway?"

"I would," said a familiar voice.

Everyone turned. Striding into the grove was Dionysus. He wore a formal black suit; a deep purple tie and a wine-colored dress shirt. His curly black hair was carefully combed back, and his purple eyes were bloodshot, like he was suffering from grief more than wine withdrawal.

The satyrs all stood respectfully and bowed as he approached. Dionysus waved his hand, and a new chair grew out of the ground next to Silenus's—a throne made of grapevines.

Dionysus sat down and crossed his legs. He snapped his fingers and a satyr hurried forward with a plate of cheese and crackers and a Diet Coke.

The god of wine looked around at the assembled crowd. "Miss me?"

The satyrs fell over themselves nodding and bowing. "Oh, yes, very much, sire!"

"Well, I did not miss this place!" Dionysus snapped. "I bear bad news, my friends. Evil news. The minor gods are changing sides. Morpheus has gone over to the enemy. Hecate, Janus, and Nemesis, as well. Zeus knows how many more."

Violet shuffled on her feet nervously. She always hated bringing up the topic of minor gods when around gods or children of the Twelve Olympians. It wasn't that she thought they hated her for her father being Eros, a minor god, but that they would just never understand. And to be honest, Violet didn't want to have to explain why treating minor gods with so little respect was bad—people just wouldn't care, or they'd assume she was jumping at the chance to join Luke and Kronos. ( Which ... ew. )

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Strike that," Dionysus grumbled. "Even Zeus doesn't know. Now, I want to hear Grover's story. Again, from the top."

"But, my lord," Silenus protested. "It's just nonsense!"

Dionysus's eyes flared with purple fire. "I have just learned that my son Castor is dead, Silenus. I am not in a good mood. You would do well to humor me."

Silenus gulped, and waved at Grover to start again.

When Grover was done, Mr. D nodded. "It sounds like just the sort of thing Pan would do. Grover is right. The search is tiresome. You must start thinking for yourselves." He turned to a satyr. "Bring me some peeled grapes, right away!"

"Yes, sire!" The satyr scampered off.

"We must exile the traitor!" Silenus insisted.

"I say no," Dionysus countered. "That is my vote."

"I vote no as well," Chiron put in.

Silenus set his jaw stubbornly. "All in favor of the exile?" He and the other two old satyrs raised their hands. "Three to two," Silenus said smugly.

"Ah, yes," Dionysus said, wagging a finger. "But, unfortunately for you, a god's vote counts twice. And as I voted against, we are tied."

Silenus stood, indignant. "This is an outrage! The council cannot stand at an impasse."

"Then let it be dissolved!" Mr. D said. "I don't care."

Silenus bowed stiffly, along with his two friends, and they left the grove. About twenty satyrs went with them. The rest stood around, murmuring uncomfortably.

"Don't worry," Grover told them. "We don't need a council to tell us what to do. We can figure it out ourselves."

He told them again the words of Pan—how they must save the wild a little at a time. He started dividing the satyrs into groups—which ones would go to the national parks, which ones would search out the last wild places, and which ones would defend the parks in big cities.

"Well," Annabeth sighed, hands on her hips, "Grover seems to be growing up."

Violet grinned, for the first time in a while. "It's amazing to see!" She clapped her hands.

When everyone was gone, and Violet was all alone, she took the seeds that had appeared in her pocket after meeting Pan out. She turned it over in her hand, wondering what the god Pan had given her. She dug a small hole in the dirt in the center of the council meeting, gently tucked the oval seed into the dirt, and patted the dirt over like a warm blanket.

In the blink of an eye, a small purple larkspur sprouted from the ground. Violet's cheek twitched at the flower, thumbing the charm on her bracelet. It might've been her imagination, but a small wisp of white smoke curled out from the top of the purple larkspur. Violet liked to think it was Pan, watching over her.

"I'll do whatever," she promised in a whisper. "To make it right. To bring back the wild."

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, watching the larkspur move in the wind, but it was comforting. But it also wasn't. For as long as Violet could remember, plants surrounded her. They reminded her of home—of Dahlia Beaumont and Camp Half-Blood. But it felt like both of those things were being swept out from underneath her; no longer could Violet rely on Dahlia, and it was seemingly coming towards the end of Camp Half-Blood's lifespan in a matter of a year—the day Percy would turn sixteen and ... something would happen.

Violet knew of the Great Prophecy—the couple of rhyming lines that foretold the fate of the world when a child that wasn't supposed to exist reached sixteen. She didn't know exactly what was in the lines, but she knew it spelled death. Prophecies always spelled death. She knew that now.

"Love Bug?"

Violet turned, finding Percy watching her was an expression of concern. She didn't want to look at Percy—in case that tension in her chest started, the same feeling that signified Lee's death came when she looked at him.

"Hey," she croaked, wincing at her raw tone.

"You're crying," he noticed, and Violet furiously wiped away the tears on her cheeks.

"S'nothing," she said. "Just ... thinking."

"Right." Percy sat next to her, pulling his knees to his chest. "So ... about what?"

Violet fought the urge to rip the larkspur out of the ground and crumple it in her hand. It was for Pan, not anything more. "About my childhood. Wishing I made better choices. Wishing I never found out I was a demigod."

"Yeah, but we would've never met." Percy nudged her. "'Cause you would've been in France, and I would be left here, fighting for my life."

Violet knew Percy was trying to make her feel better, but she only took a shuddered breath. "You don't understand, Perce."

He raised his eyebrows. "Understand what?"

"That I just blew the only parental relationship I had."

"Your mom?" Percy frowned. "What happened?"

Violet shook her head. "I can't talk about it."

"Because you don't want to, or because you really can't?"

"... Both."

It wasn't like Hades forbade her from ever telling anyone she was a legacy of Persephone, but telling people would probably cause the Lord of the Dead to keep his promise—to use Violet's skeleton as decoration. Sure, maybe Violet's rib cage would make a lovely chandelier piece, but that doesn't mean she wants to be on display so young.

Percy pursed his lips. "Right."

For a moment, there was silence between the two. Then, Percy nudged the larkspur Violet had planted. "Your gardening skills?" he asked.

She shrugged. "More like Pan's."

Percy hummed. "You really did plant a garden for him."

"No, I haven't. No yet." Violet shook her head. "I planted a flower. But I will."

Percy looked at her very seriously. "Vi, what has you crying?"

"You're not gonna drop it, are you?" she asked.

"Not until you tell me," he admitted. "I can help."

Despite the tears in her eyes, Violet laughed slightly. "Not this, you can't. And it's not exactly ... a problem. It's ... I don't know what it is, I guess. But it's not anything you can fix."

"It has to do with the Underworld," Percy blurted suddenly. "And Nico. And that sword you got."

Violet's eyes went wide. "How do you know that?"

"I—I had dreams," said Percy, shrugging. "You and Nico broke into the Underworld and went to Persephone's garden. Why?"

Violet's jaw set and she rubbed her arm. "Forget it. It's nothing."

"It has you crying," insisted Percy. "It's clearly something."

Violet sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "Percy, can you stop being so fucking nice for two seconds?"

He blinked at her. "Why?"

"Because!" She waved her hands around. "I can't explain it, okay? I know you want to help, but there's nothing you can do."

Percy didn't like her answer, and Violet knew that. He pursed his lips, crossing his legs underneath him. "Vi, I want you to tell me."

"I can tell that."

"Then, tell me."

Violet only shook her head.

Percy started getting frustrated. He stood up, spreading his hands at her. "Why not? You practically know everything about me—about Gabe, how he abused me and my mom, the fact I had no friends until Grover. You know the fact my mom and I struggled to get by. You even know about Calypso and Ogygia. Why can't you tell me this?"

Violet's chin quivered. "Because I don't want to talk about it."

"Nico knows." Percy's jaw ticked.

"Because he was the only one who could help me."

"What could Nico do that I couldn't?" Percy pointed to himself. "Violet—we held the fucking sky together. You think I wouldn't do anything for you?"

"That's the problem, Percy!" Violet snapped, standing up quickly. Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she clenched her fist and stepped back. "You're taking this personally when it's not about you. It's about me and my mom, okay?"

"What could your mom do that makes you and Nico break into the Underworld?"

"Lie." Violet's voice broke. "About everything. My entire life. And somehow, I'm the bad guy for figuring it out and confronting her."

She looked off as Percy's resolve started to fall. He uncrossed his arms. "Oh." His expression was conflicted. "I didn't ... realize."

"'Course you don't," murmured Violet.

Instead of saying anything, Percy took two long strides and engulfed her in a hug. He rested his chin on the top of her head, and Violet broke down. His hands drew circles in her back as she cried. And he didn't do anything until her cries turned into sniffles.

"I didn't mean to make it worse," he admitted. "And I'm not saying that so I can pressure you to tell me, Vi. Promise. But I didn't realize what you were doing."

Violet wasn't sure what conclusion Percy had come to, but she didn't even want to ask. She clenched his T-shirt in her fist, her ear laying on his shoulder, giving her a perfect way to listen to his heartbeat. "There was no way for you to know," she agreed.

"I mean ... my dreams," Percy chuckled. Violet could've listened to that sound all day. "It would've been nice if they gave me more information than they did."

She smiled lightly. "Then there wouldn't be any suspense."

Percy made a choking sound, like he just realized something shocking, and quickly stepped back. "Um—sorry," he said, avoiding eye contact. "Look, we have to go help clean up Camp, Vi."

She frowned at him. "What?"

"Chores, Love Bug," said Percy, ushering her out of the grove. "I'm sure Chiron's looking for us."

Violet's face burned scarlet. "Why'd you say it like that?!"

Percy sputtered. "That's not what I meant!"

🌷

Being back at Camp Half-Blood was weird. Don't get Violet wrong—she loved being back here, but it just wasn't the same.

It seems everyone thought the same. There were fewer campers. The mood was damp and dreary. The usual chatter wasn't in the air. Not even at Cabin Eleven's table—where it was always loud. The sunset over Long Island Sound was beautiful. Violet tried to be grateful—she was alive, and her friends were, too. Camp Half-Blood was safe. Kronos had suffered a setback, at least for a while. Even, to some degree, Violet had answers. Even if they weren't the answers expected, nor wanted. ( And Violet totally botched the already barely living relationship with her mother. )

Despite how much Violet prodded and pleaded, Nico refused to sit at Cabin Eleven's table with her and AJ. He kept shaking his head, saying that he wasn't hungry. Violet called bullshit on that, but she knew Nico had his limits—and pushing his limits means pushing him very far away. ( She wanted to think they had grown past that, but she was also scared of pushing just in case they weren't. )

After dinner, the campers headed towards the amphitheater, where the Apollo Cabin promised an awesome sing-along to pick up the campers's spirits. Nico appeared at Violet's side, tugging on her wrist, and whispering, "We need to talk—alone."

Violet couldn't refuse the son of Hades, and so, she nodded. Nico turned and disappeared into the woods, leaving Violet to follow.

As she passed under the shadows of the trees, in pursuit of the black-haired boy, she realized how dark it was getting. She wasn't scared, but some part of her expected Hades to jump out, having changed his mind about letting Violet live.

But that didn't happen. And so, Violet's mind was force to fill in the spaces the darkness left with the sneering faces of the enemies she had fought the day before. She wanted to be able to walk through the woods without having to think of the horror that was the battle.

It was easy not to lose Nico, even among all the dark, looming trees. He stopped in a clearing Violet had passed through once during a game of Capture the Flag. Luckily, there were no memories of the battle from this clearing for her mind to cling to.

Nico was frowning at the dark grass beneath his feet. Violet watched him carefully before asking, "You're not staying, are you?"

He didn't look up at her. "I don't belong at Camp, Violet. Anyone can see that. You can see that."

"That's not it, Nico," said Violet. "It's just ..."

"They know something's off, so they stay away," Nico answered for her.

Violet frowned, this time carefully avoiding the eyes that were so much like Hades's. "You could prove them wrong."

He shook his head. "I'm not going to pretend to be something that I'm not."

"That's not what I meant," said Violet, shaking her own head. "I mean ... Look, a lot of people made fun of the fact my dad's Eros. I really struggled—I do still struggle—with that, so I made a name for myself. You can do that, too. I'll help you! There's things you can do—"

"Your dad's not the God of Death, Violet." Nico's voice was cold and stern, and Violet had to accept there was no changing his mind.

She blinked back tears, not expecting this to affect her so much. "So I haven't changed your mind?"

"No."

An air of tense silence settled between them. The future was up in the air, nothing was determined. The thing that had kept them tied together—the mystery surrounding why Violet could control darkness—was unraveled. Messily, for sure. But it was over. There was no need for them to keep talking. Nico had helped Violet, and Violet had helped Nico—just like they promised back in January.

"I don't want us to become strangers, Nico," she admitted.

"We won't." He nodded, like he was sure of it. "I mean ... I'll come by Camp every once in a while—for you and AJ. If you ever go back to the Underworld—"

"I won't." Violet shook her head. "Not until I actually die. Hades won't let me ever leave if I go back."

Nico's cheek twitched. "I guess you're right."

Violet's cheek puffed out, partially to hide her tears. "Always am."

Nico rolled his eyes, but didn't disagree. He looked behind Violet, like he expected something or someone. The daughter of Eros frowned and looked behind her, finding nothing but darkness. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's ..." Nico trailed off. "Bianca said she would come talk to us."

"Us?" Violet frowned.

"That's what she said." The son of Hades shrugged.

"Oh. So ..." Violet rubbed at her arms. "We don't have to go through another summoning ceremony, right?"

Nico didn't have to answer. From the dark tree line, a blueish figure emerged from the ground, as if crawling from the Underworld itself. The figure shifted and morphed, struggling to pick a form. Finally, it picked: the figure of Bianca di Angelo.

It wasn't any easier this time. Violet's throat still closed up, and her hands shook. Bianca walked through the dark clearing, passing through the overgrown grass, and a blue halo consumed her entire body.

Nico's lips were pursed, and his nostrils had flared. This wasn't any easier for him, either. Violet reached out and grasped his thin wrist.

Bianca's eyes were forlorn as she looked between Violet and Nico. "Did Nico say why I'm here?" she asked, her eyes flickering towards Violet's shadowy face.

Violet flinched at the sound of Bianca's voice. "Um ... no."

If possible, Bianca's expression turned even sadder. "Oh. Well ... I know you two started working together months back to figure, um, everything out."

Violet winced. How many people knew that shouldn't know?

Nico pursed his lips. "Bianca. what is it?"

"I've decided to try rebirth." It practically tumbled out of the daughter of Hades's mouth. "I want to make it to the Isles of the Blest. You can't talk me out of this, Nico. I've given it a lot of thought, and—"

"I won't try to," Nico broke in.

Violet ignored the passing irritation of Bianca not waiting for Nico. Bianca was his sister, but that wasn't all she was. Like Bianca had told Violet last winter; To prove myself, Bianca told Violet, admitting to why she admitted to going on the quest. Bianca wanted to be more than an older sister. She wanted to make a name for herself. Violet couldn't resent Bianca for wanting to do the exact thing Violet wanted.

She squeezed Nico's wrist. "I think you can do it, Bianca. No—I know you can. How many more lives do you have to live?"

"Two more heroic lives," answered Bianca, her eyes flickering over to Nico. "Then I can go to the Isles."

Nico's mouth twitched. Violet could tell he didn't like the idea at all. The idea of his sister living a whole different life from him—a life he would never be in. Instead of voicing this, he cleared his throat and made a shitty joke, "Hopefully you won't be a demigod this time. No more dangerous quests."

Bianca noticed his anger and didn't smile. "Hopefully not, Nico," she agreed quietly. She reached out to touch his face, but her hand phased right through him. She frowned and added, "I love you, Nico. Don't forget that."

Nico flinched and turned his head to the side. Bianca faltered but looked to Violet. "I know we're not siblings, Vi, but I love you, too."

Violet's eyes burned and she tried to blink them away. "Yeah. Love you, too. We don't have to be siblings for that."

Bianca smiled one last time, a genuine smile that wasn't pained. The daughter of Hades faded, the blue smoke curling around her fading and melting back into the ground. Violet and Nico were silent, neither one wanting to be the first to speak. Everything was silent—until a twig snapped to the right.

Violet's head snapped over to find Percy wincing and checking the crushed tree branch under his sneakers. Of course it was Percy to find him. He was almost as nosey as Violet was ( which was saying something ). But she was grateful it was him who found them and not Connor, AJ, Travis, or Silena. Violet would hate to have and try to explain why Bianca di Angelo—who was supposed to be dead—was talking to her and Nico.

Nico spotted Percy, too. Surprisingly, he didn't look mad.

"Saying goodbye," he said hoarsely.

"We missed you at dinner," Percy spoke up. "You could've sat with Violet."

The son of Hades shook his head. "No."

Percy didn't get the memo, continuing to chide, "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. They've got plenty of rooms."

"I'm not staying, Percy."

"But ..." Percy glanced at Violet, and she only shook her head. "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," Nico 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."

Violet wanted to argue, but she had no fight left in her. She didn't like the idea of Nico going out there all alone, but she knew he could handle himself. She remembered in Pan's cave, how the wild god had addressed each one of them individually... except Nico. She almost went back and ripped up the purple larkspur.

"When will you go?" Percy 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."

Violet laid a hand on his shoulder, and a silent understanding passed between them. I don't mind to help you, it read. Like you helped me. It wasn't that she owed Nico, it was that she genuinely wanted to help him. No one deserved to be left in the dark like that, Violet knew that first-hand.

Percy watched them carefully. "I hope we don't have to be enemies, Nico," he said. "If you and Violet can work together ..." He didn't finish the sentence, but the message was sent. Percy knew about Nico and Violet's escapades.

Nico lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry I was a brat. I should've listened to you about Bianca."

"By the way ..." Percy fished something out of his pocket. "Tyson found this while we were cleaning the cabin. Thought you might want it." He held out a lead figurine of Hades—the little Mythomagic statue Nico had abandoned when he fled Camp last winter. Violet had been the one to find it after Nico dropped it, but threw it at Percy, unable to look at it.

Nico hesitated. "I don't play that game any more. It's for kids."

"It's got four thousand attack power," Percy coaxed, shaking it gently.

"Five thousand," Nico corrected the son of Poseidon. "But only if your opponent attacks first."

Percy grinned. "Maybe it's okay to still be a kid once in a while." He tossed the figurine over.

Nico caught the statue, studying it for a moment, then slipped it into his pocket. "Thanks."

Percy put out his hand. Nico shook it reluctantly.

"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."

Violet wasn't so sure what the boy meant, but knew she would find a way to ask sooner or later ( sooner, she hoped ). She wrapped him in a hug and said, "You better keep in touch."

Begrudgingly, or maybe not begrudgingly, he hugged her before slipping away. He turned and trudged off into the woods. The shadows seemed to bend towards him as he walked, like they were reaching out for his attention.

"I know you'll try and help him, Love Bug," said Percy. "But maybe this time ... don't go breaking and entering the Underworld."

She smiled. "No promises."

"Well, at least take me with you if you do," he said.

"Then we'll definitely die." Violet rolled her eyes. "You know how much Hades complained about you? Jackson this, Jackson that."

Percy shrugged, a smile tugging on his lips. "I'm just that memorable."

Violet snorted, making Percy snap his head over to mockingly glare at her.

Behind them, a voice drawled, "Memorable is not the word I would use, Peter Johnson. But what I would say, I can't, since there are children present."

Violet turned to see Dionysus standing there, still in his black suit.

"Walk with me," he said.

Percy bristled at the insult Dionysus gave. "Where to?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just to the campfire," said the god. "I was beginning to feel better, so I thought I would talk with you and Vivian. Campers always manage to annoy me."

Violet sneered. "And what do you think you do to us?"

Dionysus raised his eyebrows at her. "I direct Camp Half-Blood, of course."

"That was not what I was thinking."

The three walked through the woods in silence. Violet noticed that Dionysus was treading on air, his polished black shoes hovering an inch off the ground. She figured he didn't want to get them dirty.

"We have had many betrayals," he said. "Things are not looking good for Olympus. Yet you saved this camp. I'm not sure I should thank you for that."

"It was a group effort."

The God of Wine shrugged. "Regardless, I suppose it was mildly competent, what you two did. I thought you should know—it wasn't a total loss."

They had reached the amphitheater, and Dionysus pointed towards 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.

Violet looked at the god. "You cured Chris?"

"Madness is my specialty. It was quite simple."

"But ... you did something nice," Percy said in disbelief. "Why?"

Dionysus raised an eyebrow. "I am nice! I simply ooze niceness, Perry Johansson. Haven't you noticed?"

"Nice is not the word I would use to describe you, either," Violet murmured.

"Perhaps I felt grieved by my son's death," said Dionysus. "Perhaps I thought this Chris boy deserved a second chance. At any rate, it seems to have improved Clarisse's mood."

"And why are you pointing this out?" asked Violet.

The wine god sighed. "Oh, Hades if I know. But remember, that a kind act can sometimes be as powerful as a sword. As a mortal, I was never a great fighter or athlete or poet. I only made wine. The people in my village laughed at me. They said I would never amount to anything. Look at me now. Sometimes small things can become very large indeed."

He left Violet and Percy alone to think about that. And as Violet watched Clarisse and Chris singing a stupid campfire song together, holding hands in the darkness, where they thought nobody could see them, she couldn't help but smile.

🌷  OCT. 25TH, 2023  /  i wanted this act to be 20 chapters or less but that ain't happening - but i think there's only one more chapter in this act and then the interlude (sword of hades) and then we're onto act three!! (which is really scary and i'm starting to panic a bit - but it's all good,, sort of)

this chapter was mainly talking - so i hope it doesn't feel too boring, especially compared to the previous chapter. but this chapter is necessary for character relationships and the plot both

percy and vi <33 i love them - they've gone through it this act, but together - kind of 💀 - and that will bring them closer together

anyways, thoughts?? opinions??

(not edited nor proofread)