This Dark Night ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase¹

―vi. hades is NOT getting a christmas gift this year

THEY EMERGED IN CENTRAL PARK just north of the Pond. Mrs. O'Leary looked pretty tired as she limped over to a cluster of boulders. She started sniffing around, and at Percy's worried look, Nico said, "It's okay. She just smells the way home."

Percy frowned. "Through the rocks?"

"The Underworld has two major entrances," Naomi explained. "We went to the one in L.A., with Charon's ferry. That's the way most souls go, but there's a smaller path, harder to find. The Door of Orpheus."

"The dude with the harp," Percy said.

"The dude with the lyre," Nico corrected. "But, yeah, him. He used his music to charm the earth and open a new path into the Underworld. He sang his way right into Hades's palace and almost got away with his wife's soul."

The story of Orpheus and Eurydice had always been Naomi's favorite—not because it made her happy, of course. She cried every time she heard a new rendition of it, because it always ended the same: with Orpheus looking back.

Most people thought he was a fool for looking back and damning Eurydice to return back to the Underworld, but Naomi saw the story differently. Whichever version you read—whether Orpheus turned because he worried Eurydice wasn't following, or he turned because she tripped, or he turned because he'd been so excited to see her again he hadn't realized they both weren't out of the Underworld—the message was the same: his love for Eurydice was what made him turn.

Ovid had said, as Eurydice's soul was pulled back into the Underworld, What was there to complain of, but that she had been loved?

Naomi used to wonder what it felt like to love or be loved like that.

Now, she thought she understood.

"So this is the Door of Orpheus," Percy said. "How does it open?"

"We need music," Nico said. "Either of you good at singing?"

"Drew said her cat screaming while getting a bath sounds better than my singing," Naomi admitted sheepishly. "Percy?"

"Um, no," he said. "Can't you guys just, like, tell it to open? You're children of the Underworld and all."

"It's not so easy," Nico said. "We need music."

"I have a better idea," Percy decided. He turned and called, "GROVER!"

❊

They waited for a long time. Mrs. O'Leary curled up and took a nap. Naomi could hear the crickets in the woods and an owl hooting. Traffic hummed along Central Park West. Horse hooves clopped down a nearby path—maybe a mounted police patrol. Naomi was sure they'd love to find three kids hanging out in the park at one in the morning.

"It's no good," Nico said at last.

Percy shut his eyes, the space between his brows wrinkling in concentration. A few moments later, he almost fell over.

"What happened?" Naomi asked, holding his arm to steady him.

"I got through," Percy said. "He's... yeah. He's on his way."

A minute later, the tree next to them shivered. Grover fell out of the branches, right on his head.

"Grover!" Perch yelled.

"Woof!" Mrs. O'Leary looked up, probably wondering if they were going to play fetch with the satyr.

"Blah-haa-haa!" Grover bleated.

"You okay?" Naomi asked.

"Oh, I'm fine." He rubbed his head. His horns had grown so much they poked right out of his curly hair. "I was at the other end of the park. The dryads had this great idea of passing me through the trees to get me here. They don't understand height very well."