Heir of a Titan - Book 2 PJO

Chapter 33: I hope I Wasn't Drooling

My body crashed to the floor, my mind was already asleep and pulled directly into a dream

In my dream, I saw Nico.  He was alone in the gardens of Hades. He'd just dug a hole in one of Persephone's flower beds, which I didn't figure would make the queen very happy, but she did enjoy redecorating. So maybe. I was surprised he didn't see me. 

"You gonna tell me this is a dumb idea?" He finally snapped. 

"No. You know I would, though. So have at 'er." 

He didn't say anything else, just nodded his head once. I could feel the pain and sadness and bitterness rolling of him in waves. I was beside him in my dream Sight state and watched what he was doing. He poured a goblet of wine into the hole and began to chant. "Let the dead taste again. Let them rise and take this offering. Maria di Angelo, show yourself!"

White smoke gathered. A human figure formed, but it wasn't Nico's mother. It was a girl with dark hair, olive skin, and the silvery clothes of a Hunter. It must have been his sister. 

"Bianca," Nico said. "But—"

"Don't summon our mother, Nico," she warned. "She is the one spirit you are forbidden to see."

"Why?" he demanded. "What's our father hiding?"

"Pain," Bianca said. "Hatred. A curse that stretches back to the Great Prophecy."

"What do you mean?" Nico said. "I have to know!"

"The knowledge will only hurt you. Remember what I said: holding grudges is a fatal flaw for children of Hades." 

I agreed with her, poking into the past was not a good idea, but the words curse and great prophecy caught my attention. Now I kind of was intrigued. I didn't say anything. 

"I know that," Nico said. "But I'm not the same as I used to be, Bianca. Stop trying to protect me!"

"Brother, you don't understand-"

Nico swiped his hand through the mist, and Bianca s image dissipated. 

"Nora? You're still with me?" 

"Yes. You're sister has a point poking around the past can bring up old pain and hurts, but I told you before, Nico, I will support your decisions. As stupid as they are. I'm here for you." 

I swear I saw a tear try leak down his pale cheek. I wish I could  hug him. He took a shaky breath and steeled himself. He straightened up and spoke again.

"Maria di Angelo," he said again. "Speak to me!"

A different image formed. It was a scene rather than a single ghost. In the mist, I saw Nico and Bianca as little children, playing in the lobby of an elegant hotel, chasing each other around marble columns.

A woman sat on a nearby sofa. She wore a black dress, gloves, and a black veiled hat like a star from an old 1940s movie. She had Bianca's smile and Nico's eyes.

On a chair next to her sat a large oily man in a black pinstripe suit. With a shock, I realized it was Hades, himself. He was leaning toward the woman, using his hands as he talked, like he was agitated.

"Please, my dear," he said. "You must come to the Underworld. I don't care what Persephone thinks! I can keep you safe there."

"No, my love." She spoke with an Italian accent. "Raise our children in the land of the dead? I will not do this."