The Ambassador of the Gods

4. Arrive At Madness

-- 17th December 2009 --

By the time Nico's feet found solid ground outside the border of Half-Blood, the little pocket-watch hanging on his backpack told him it was twenty-one hundred. So maybe three hours wasn't exactly the safest to leave to completing a task.

At least it was probably too little time for Chiron to notice and chew him out for. Boy, was Nico getting good at this positive mindset thing. Hestia would be so proud.

Usually, Nico could trust himself to be less cynical, but exhaustion was clearly making him bitter.

Just like the empousai at Jupiter, it took him embarrassingly long to realise something was off. He stopped under the dark of the pine trees and peered up the mortal side of Half-Blood Hill, ankle-deep in fallen needles and detritus. There were voices up ahead, tense and hushed. He could just make out the silhouette of heads against the darker sky over the rise of the hill.

Behind Nico, the shadows let go of the trees and slithered behind him, running up his legs until he was less than the suggestion of presence in the night. He crept closer.

"Jace, don't," said a girl, "we should assume it isn't a demon. It looks like it's guarding that."

The Golden Fleece hung in the branches of Thalia's Pine Tree, giving off warm fuzzy feelings. Its glow reflected off a hint of fiery red hair and black clothing, comically at odds with the situation of a group of somethings trying (and not even very hard) to break into Half-Blood.

A boy, presumably Jace, muttered, "Though it's hard to believe anyone would want a Dragonidae demon hanging round their camp." He had blonde hair that glittered gold under the Fleece, reminding Nico of the time he had watched Jason Grace land onto a balcony in New Rome in summer, at sunset.

Like Grace, Jace was also aggravatingly handsome.

"I don't know about that," said another girl. "It's still a dragon. That's pretty cool."

Closer now, Nico make out their slim, unencumbered figures out with the light from Camp a little better, carrying packs as if they were off on a brief road-trip. These people were taking Peleus (the snarling, snake-headed, copper-scaled dragon) very lightly, and somehow Nico had a feeling that they weren't, as their silhouettes suggested, under-dressed for monster fighting. He had feeling that was a bow and those were swords.

"We have absolutely no idea how to get past this?" asked an older boy, fingertips pressed against the magical border.

Another male joined him and scrutinised it. "Greek magic," he shrugged. "It's a funny thing." Behind them, Peleus growled and snorted in dissent, but hung close to Thalia's Pine.

"Hey, Magnus, I think it's jealous of your eyes," called Jace.

Nico frowned. Magnus turned to Jace with an amused drive. Hard to compare with a dragon's eyes, Nico thought. He crept closer to follow the exchange as the intruders turned their backs to him.

Magnus stopped mid-step. His hand flickered up. 

Nico plunged into adrenaline like he'd dropped two feet through the ground into a tub of ice-cold water. The attention of the boy at the border snapped towards the gesture. Nico reached out and gripped the shadows over himself but they blew off him like dust, no resistance.

Magnus turned and looked at him with gold-and-green slitted eyes.

Nico was shocked enough to stare frozen while the group turned as one. There was a hiss of alarmed whispers, the muttering of names, and rods of pure white light stabbed at Nico's eyes. He saw the taller girl, her sheath of black hair glancing momentarily in the new, harsh light, step around the blonde boy. He saw her wrist flick and a slithering line of metal slicing through the space between them.