The Demigod Games

Chapter Eighteen

Nico shifted silently as he buried his last morsel of food in the ground. Bianca. He needed to talk to his older sister more than he had ever needed to.

His quietly chanted, summoning her ghost. To Nico's surprise, a willowy ghost arose from the dirt. Wearing her silvery gown with her bows and arrows, Bianca DiAngelo gazed upon her younger brother. "Nico, what if someone catches you?"

"How did you know about any of this?" Nico asked, bewilered by her knowledge.

Bianca waved her hand like it was nothing. "Even the dead are aware of this horrific event, Nico."

"That's why I need to talk to you," Nico pushed, praying to the Gods she wouldn't leave him, ever.

"Nico, I can't help you-" Bianca began.

Nico cut her off angrily. "I know you can't help me! You're dead, Bianca!" He uncontrollably broke into sobs. "It's all my fault," he choked out.

Bianca seemed to kneal down to see Nico eye to eye. When she reached out a hand to him, it simply fell through. She sighed in depression. "It's not your fault Nico. I made my choice. You were not even there, you need to stop blaming yourself. Of course I can't help you, but I do have some advice for you."

"What?" Nico lifted his head, then dried his eyes with his sleeves. "What could you possibly do?"

"Nico, I'm here for a reason. But all I can tell you is that you should make sacrifices. Everything will turn out well in the end."

"What do you mean?" Nico demanded, balling up his fists.

Bianca gave him a sad look. "I'm sorry Nico."

She vanished without a single trace.

--

Lara arose from the sand, then let out a dry cough. Her memory was fried, literally. She couldn't remember a single detail about the previous day, she couldn't remember how she got there, how she passed out, nothing.

Using all of her strength, Lara pushed herself onto her foot to gaze into what appeared to be the moon. The moon? Isn't it morning?

"What in the name of Pluto?" Lara murmured. Wind crept through the sand, bringing up small clods of dirt to hit the daughter of Neptune in the face. She spat it out weakly, feeling sluggish and defeated. But still, nothing came to mind.

The moon sat the far edge of the sky, dawn just beginning to stretch over the horizon. Lara felt power loosen from within her; the moon was always a source of power for her. With the sun, she still was a force to be reckoned with, but not as strong as she could be at night.

Heat already began to set in, warming Lara's sun-kissed skin. But with the heat, another surprise was in store.

--

"Are you ready to release the drakons, Vulcan?" Jupiter paced around the Gods' conference room, preparing for the first challenge to be unleashed.

Vulcan nodded, his scruffy beard scratching against his chest. "Is now an appropriate time to release them?"

"Send them right out on the daughter of Neptune," Jupiter ordered without a second thought. "Before Neptune realizes what we've done."

"But Jupiter-" Vulcan tried to cut in, seeing how unfair the God of the skies was being. He felt obligated to stop him when he was going to extremes.

Jupiter licked his lips in anticipation. "Lara Quinn will fall, my children will be victorious."

"Your children?" Vulcan gritted his teeth to prevent himself from saying something he would later regret.

"Yes," the sky God murmured, then looked upon the arena with greed in his eyes. "Now. Release them."

Ten drakons ran out of a cage lowered from Olympus, straight into the arena. "Each drakon can only be killed a certain child of a demigod," Vulcan commented as he watched each leathery beast fly free. "It's nearly impossible for another to interfere with the prophecies that have been placed on them."

"Of course," Jupiter gazed as a pack of drakons flew to the disoriented daughter of Jupiter.

Out of the Gods' views, Hestia quietly listened in on the conversation the two Gods were having. She was horrified by what they planned, and how Zeus was planning to kill a child for his own. She knew something was wrong when the Gods came up with this idea. Of course, the Gods were already barbaric enough as it was, but this was just completely uncalled for and brutish.

Hestia had her suspicions, but she couldn't prove any of them to be true. But never before has she seen such blood thirsty looks upon the faces of the Gods. It was almost as if they were inherently corrupt.

As the God of the skies turned back to face the pillar from where Hestia was hiding, she skipped off without a sound.