Breaking the Gods

Chapter 1

Preface

Jason forced his hands to remain steady as he pressed two fingers against Nico's throat, checking for a pulse. It was hard to quiet the thundering of his own heartbeat that was pounding away at his temples, to make sure he didn't mistake his own pulse for Nico's. But Nico was frighteningly cold to the touch, and Jason couldn't feel his heartbeat.

Not completely trusting his own evaluation, he grabbed Nico's wrist and tried to find a pulse there, but again, there was nothing.

"No, no, no," he growled, and grabbed the front of Nico's shirt. He tore it open, to make it easier to give the younger boy chest compressions, but as he reached to position his hands directly over Nico's heart, he froze. Because embedded in Nico's chest, right overtop of his heart, was a black stone scarab, and Jason could clearly see that it wasn't just stuck to his skin. The thing was actually a part of him. A very thin, translucent layer of skin had actually grown over the edges of it, and a spider web of black veins radiated outward around it. "What the . . ."

Jason wasn't sure what to do. He'd been planning on trying to restart Nico's heart, but now he wasn't sure if Nico even had one. Or if the scarab thing was some sort of magical replacement for it. Or if he ever even had a pulse to begin with. All Jason knew was that he didn't want to lose anyone else on this assignment, even if Nico hadn't officially been working for him.

He tried to steel himself and focus and think like a commander, and a warrior. This wasn't the first time he'd knelt over a dying or dead friend, and fate wasn't kind enough for him to think it would be the last time either, but it never, ever got any easier.

"Nico?" he asked, because the stone scarab in place of his heart meant that the usual rules for having a pulse might not apply. "Can you hear me? Nico?"

Nico gave no indication that he'd heard Jason, or that he was conscious.

"I was going to give you CPR, but I'm not sure if it will work, considering you might have a stone heart," said Jason. "I'm going to try anyway, because I don't know what else to do. If this is the wrong thing, I'm sorry. And if this doesn't work . . . I'm sorry."

He could almost see Nico scowling at him, reminding him that he was doing what he wanted to do, and not doing any favors for Jason, except maybe telling him what he learned inside the complex, but that didn't make Jason feel like it was any less his fault. He should have tried harder to keep tabs on the kid. But it was too late now, and stewing over it wasn't going to help him.

Jason positioned his hands over the stone scarab, and prepared to start chest compressions, but the sound of rushed footsteps reached his ears. He tensed and was about to reach for his sword, but another teen was already rushing into the room. Another demigod, Jason realized with relief, and one who wasn't one of the poor, broken half-bloods that the complex had been torturing. That much was apparent at just a glance.

This new demigod wore a few pieces of old fashioned armor over an orange T-shirt, and carried a bronze sword, that he clearly knew how to use. His wrists were thick with muscle and he had the graceful, balanced step that only a trained warrior could manage. Several pieces of tousled dark hair fell into, but did nothing to obscure a pair of furious sea green eyes that zeroed in on Jason with deadly intent.

"Get away from my cousin!"

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Three Weeks Earlier

"No, no, no!" The shout echoed through all of Brooklyn House.

It was Saturday morning, but late in the morning, so most of the magicians in training were awake. Kids and teens lounged around, on the sofa, in the library, in whatever favorite nooks and acloves they'd claimed since beginning their magical education, eating cereal, or eggs, or oatmeal, reading, watching cartoons, practicing magic, or playing a little basketball . . . or in the case of one young penguin-loving magician, and one possessed demigod, playing Mythomagic.