Hades was not a happy god.

Hades was never a happy god, but now he was more pissed off than usual. His only son going missing, and all signs showing that he'd been abducted by the thrice damned House of Life had a tendency to get on his nerves like nothing else had managed to in the past two millennia.

"There will be blood!" Hades roared when he found that he was being blocked out of his son's mind by an alien power, which confirmed his suspicions that Nico had been kidnapped.

It had started when he found Cerberus chewing on a jackal.

Jackals weren't very common in Hades' realm. Not normal jackals and not magical jackals either. They were associated with death, yes, but not really part of any Greek lore. So finding a giant jackal that was obviously the familiar of some upstart House of Life magician was the first sign that something strange was afoot.

After a short but undignified tug of war match with his three headed guard dog, Hades managed to obtain the mangled jackal. It was a sorry sight, but there were still a few clues that it could reveal to him. The hieroglyphics that were inscribed beneath its skin let Hades know exactly who the mangy beast belonged to, much more efficiently than one of those modern day computer chips that pet owners used to track errant animals. Hades could have sent the jackal familiar back to its owner with no more effort than it took to snap his fingers, if he'd a mind to. Which he didn't. He'd never been a very charitable god, and more than that, he found something else of interest on the jackal, or rather around it.

His son's signature magic was distinct. All of Hades' children had their own variations of his magic. He could tell each one apart even more easily than he could by their faces. Nico's had actually been the hardest for him to pin down. It was annoying because even after several years of being able to recognize it, he couldn't tell whether his son's power was strong or weak. The first dozen or so times he'd felt his son's powers, they'd felt subpar. Weak and sluggish. And so he'd assumed that Nico was weak and sluggish as well as small of stature, dim witted, and naïve. Then Nico went and dug a hole in one of Persephone's flower beds, used his magic and blasted through every one of the many iron clad wards that Hades had erected around the area of his domain that housed his deceased family and all memories and magic relating to them. That was something that even Zeus would have barely been able to manage, and Hades had to wonder if his son had been deliberately holding back his powers all this time, tricking everyone, including his own father into underestimating him, and playing up the illusion of frailty that his body presented.

Hades still didn't know whether Nico was weak or strong, but he'd begun to suspect it was actually the latter. The trace magic that he left behind every time he used his powers deteriorated fast, so anyone looking at his handiwork would think he was weak and impotent, but now Hades realized that could have been deliberate. But whichever it was, he could see that Nico's residual power clung to the jackal and let him know that his son had been responsible for the mangy beast's impromptu trip to Hades.

Unlike the majority of Hades' children, Nico was actually quite sane. More than that though, he took after his mother. He was polite and decent and much too sincere for his own good. The sort of hero who the world could look at and admire, if not for the fact that he called up the dead, which all mortals considered a turn off. But that aside, Nico was a good boy, and further away from being cruel than any of Hades' other sons. (who usually tended to go off on the deep end) Nico didn't torture small animals or pull the wings off of flies. On the contrary, he seemed to actually like animals, especially cute furry ones. (though he tried to hide this fact from his father) He wouldn't have sent a magician's jackal familiar to get chewed up by Cerberus for his own amusement. He would have only sent it to Hades' realm if it had attacked him.

Which meant, Hades realized with mounting rage, that the House of Life had attacked his son.

He'd immediately tried to get in contact with Nico, to make sure that this insult had been properly dealt with. His summons had not only gone unanswered, it had failed to even reach his son. So Hades had tried again, and when it failed to work the second time, cast a wider net. He manually checked the Hades Cabin at Camp Half-Blood in case it was the camp's pesky defenses that were turning back his messages, since his powers were the sort of thing most half-bloods needed protection from. But the Hades Cabin was empty and lacked any of the typical signs that Nico's nests contained, such as the Mythomagic cards and figurines he'd begun collecting again, candy bar and fast food wrappers filling the wastebasket, and the most recently released Happy Meal toys lined up with almost OCD meticulousness. Hades would never admit that he actually found his son's quirks to be almost . . . well, cute, but he wouldn't deny that their absence caused him to feel a disturbed pang of worry in his chest.

Growing desperate, he had tried an extreme measure; connecting directly with his son's mind, which always worked, without fail, but would give Nico one heck of a nosebleed and put his eardrums out of commission for a week and a half. That had never failed before. Hades could always, always reach his own children through their minds, but now he found the path to Nico thoroughly blocked by an alien power.

That was when Hades actually began to get worried.

The House of Life had an unofficial agreement with the Greek gods and their progeny. They left each other alone. The House of Life had its own problems, the Greek pantheon had theirs. Their policy of noninterference had been in effect for centuries, and had worked well, aside from one or two mishaps involving some overzealous philosophers and a museum curator who thought he was the reincarnation of Cleopatra, but those are entirely different stories. The House of Life's magic was incapable of banishing the Greek pantheon. They had realized long ago that it was best to deal with the enemies they could defeat, and leave those they couldn't alone. So why they had chosen now of all times to break their agreement, Hades could not fathom. But it was becoming more and more obvious that they had. And not only that, but they had kidnapped Hades' only living son!

Chance encounters between magicians and demigods weren't unheard of. They actually weren't all that uncommon either, and happened at least once a century. An over eager magician would try to incinerate a demigod, a demigod would think a magician was a monster and run it through with a spear. That was normal. Those incidents quickly got cleared up with little or no fanfare. Mistakes happened after all, and these were indeliberate breaches of their unspoken treaty.

Kidnapping a son of Hades was definitely not an indeliberate breach of the treaty, but it was definitely a mistake. A really big mistake.

The House of Life was going to pay.

..............................

When Nico awoke again he was alone.

Thank Hades, he thought, slowly sitting up. There were no magicians or monkeys in the room with him, and no god inside his skull. He could still feel the connection to Anubis, but it was very different from the feeling of being reduced to nothing more than a puppet while someone else pulled his strings.

Nico started to turn, preparing to swing his legs off the bed but something tugged painfully at his arm. He frowned down at what looked like a piece of tape connecting a plastic tube to his arm. The plastic tube, in turn, was connected to a bag of clear liquid hanging from the top of a high backed chair. An IV, he realized. Or a sodium pentathol drip. But considering how willingly Anubis had spilled his secrets to the other kids, Nico doubted they'd have thought it necessary to drug him with truth serum. Then a memory that was just as disturbing as the knowledge that he was possessed by a god crossed his mind. He seemed to remember that screaming monkey doing something to his arm the last time he'd woken up. Sadie and Carter . . . they wouldn't have let their monkey hook him up to an IV, would they?

Scowling, Nico pulled off the bandage tape and pulled the needle beneath it out of his arm. Then he stood, a bit shakily, but managed to stay on his feet.

Using his powers to travel through shadows and leave this place, wherever this place was, wasn't an option. He was too weak and would probably end up taking another unplanned trip to China if he tried. And that was the best case scenario. Resigned to the fact that he was stuck here, for now at least, Nico took in his surroundings. The room he was in was huge. The bed was bigger than some of the cars that he'd seen, covered with white cotton sheets, and instead of a pillow there was an odd headrest, like the ones used in Egyptian tombs for mummies, and which explained the creak in Nico's neck. The floor was a reddish hardwood that had been polished until it was as reflective as a mirror, and was the only dark thing in the room. The walls were white. The ceiling was white. The doors and curtains were white.

Once again, Nico was in hell.

Too much white, he thought, squinting against its brightness. It was night, he could tell, but he had his father's eyes. He could see in pitch black and so the lack of light did nothing to cover up all the oppressive white.

He made his way across the room, to a counter and found that it had been concealing a kitchenette. White refrigerator, stove, and veneer on the counter top, of course. The bloody microwave was white too, but at least the presence of appliances stopped the place from feeling so much like a cell in a mental institution.

Nico opened the fridge and found that someone had stocked it, presumably for him, since there were perishables that hadn't gone bad inside. In it he found several pint size cartons of milk, a couple of sandwiches that were stuffed ridiculously full of cold cuts and vegetables, and a huge bowl of fruit salad. All healthy crap. The kind of junk Percy Jackson's mother tried to make him eat on the occasions that he allowed Percy to talk him into coming over for Sunday dinner. But at least Miss Sally had the decency to have something unhealthy and artificially colored on hand for desert.

He was hungry enough that he devoured two of the sandwiches and gulped down a pint of milk. When he went to wash the juice from the sandwiches' tomatoes off his hands he realized that it had been quite some time since he'd bathed. He'd been unconscious four days before he woke up the first time. He wasn't sure how long had passed since he'd blacked out again, but now that he was aware of it, he could feel how stiff his clothes were from sweat, and in some places, blood.

There was a bathroom connected to his room, and he was relieved to see that the walls in it were beige instead of white. There was no shower head, but there was a big stone bathtub that was large enough to drown in. Someone had left towels for him on a shelf. Fluffy white towels, and a fluffy white bathrobe that almost made Nico burst a blood vessel. It was almost like the magicians were trying to piss him off. And to cap it all off, he found a change of clothes right next to the bathrobe. Some sort of middle eastern garments that looked like a cross between a martial arts gi and a set of pajamas. White, of course, damn them.

Nico resolved to wash his current set of clothes in his bath water, ring them out, and wear them while they dried. He turned the faucet on and stripped off his shirt, wincing as his muscles protested the movement, and as the dried blood and sweat stung his skin like the glue on a bandaide when it was removed too quickly.

It was only by chance that he happened to glance at his reflection in the full length mirror that covered the back of the door. Nico was far from vain after all. He knew that he wasn't anything special to look at, being as pale and skinny as he was. He had no muscles and no cool scars that would merit a second glance, and in his own opinion his face was still too childlike for him to look at it without getting annoyed about how low his intimidation stats would be if Mythomagic decided to make a Nico di Angelo card or miniature. So he almost didn't notice that anything was different at first glance. But a large black blotch on his corpse pale flesh stood out too much and caught his attention. Nico faced the mirror squarely and stared at his reflection, then looked down at his chest to make sure that he was really seeing what he was seeing.

What. In. Hades?

There was a black stone scarab about the size of Nico's fist embedded right in the center of his ribcage, right over his heart. Feather-covered wings that were anatomically incorrect for a scarab, spread from either side of the beetle and a sun-disk was directly above the scarab, held in its pincer-like mandibles.

He put his fingertips to it tentatively, expecting it to be cold to the touch like his own skin, but to his surprise it was warm. Not just warm. Hot. Like sand in the freaking Sahara Desert. And it had a pulse. A pulse that was perfectly aligned with his own, he realized after experimentally putting two fingers to his jugular to feel the beating there. Feeling an irrational surge of anger, Nico grabbed the scarab and tried to slide his fingers under the edges, but couldn't seem to find any. Then he tried pulling the skin around it away from it, hoping to dislodge it that way, but that didn't work either. Finally, he grabbed it with both hands and yanked as hard as he could.

White hot pain sent Nico stumbling into the mirror, forcing him to let go of the stone. He clenched his jaw against the pain and felt hot tears spring into his eyes. Trying to tear the damn scarab off his chest hurt worse than anything he'd ever felt before. Anything.

I wasn't tearing it off my chest, he realized with mounting horror. I was tearing it out of my chest. This . . . thing . . . it's where my heart is supposed to be! My heart has been replaced by a chunk of stone!

For a moment Nico couldn't breathe. All he could do was watch as his reflection gaped at him in horrified shock, face twisted cruelly because of the pain. It took a little while for him to get the pain under control. Once he did, he wiped the back of his hand across his face to get rid of the tears in his eyes, then focused on the alien presence that was tethered to the edges of his consciousness.

ANUBIS! He screamed in his mind as loud as he could. Anubis, you intro pack reject! Come here right now!

There was a flash of surprise from the other end of the mental link that he shared with the god, then the feeling that he got when someone opened a door after he'd knocked or rang a doorbell.

What's going on? Anubis asked in his mind.

What in Dad's name is that? demanded Nico, pointing at his reflection, his finger jabbing the reflected image dead in the center of the black stone scarab's back.

It looks like a scarab. Nico could feel Anubis' interest, but could tell the god was not overly impressed.

I know it's a scarab! he shouted. What I want to know is who in Hades gave you the right to replace my heart with a gods damned rock!

What? Anubis was doubtful. Replaced your heart . . .

Feel, Nico ordered, and touched one hand to the scarab and the other to his throat again.

It has a pulse, Anubis realized. And it's in sync with your own. But there is no way that it could have replaced your heart Nico.

Oh yes there is.

No, there's not. You'd be dead if someone took out your heart and put a stone scarab in its place, even if the scarab did have a pulse.

You'd think that, telepathed Nico angrily, wouldn't you?

Anubis gave the mental equivalent of rolling his eyes. Watch then, he ordered.

Nico felt control of his body being torn away. Wait. No!

It was too late. Anubis wasted no time trying a more gentle way of separating the scarab from his body, as Nico had done. He grabbed the stone with both hands and tried to pry it loose with as much strength as Nico's muscles could provide.

Pain even worse than what Nico felt earlier burned through his system and through the mental link he had with Anubis. He heard Anubis' scream in his head, and felt his lips twisting as though he meant to give voice to it, but no sound came out. So he avoided sounding like a pansy, but didn't manage to stay on his feet this time. The floor flew up to smack him in the face, and Nico noted, with more than a little annoyance, that the floor was made of white stone tiles.

What is that thing? demanded Anubis once he'd recovered.

Nico didn't answer. He needed a little more time before he could put together coherent thoughts.

Nico? asked Anubis a bit more gently when he realized what sorry state his host was in. Are you alright?

Nico managed to think one word clearly enough to telepath to the parasite god. Hurts.

I'm sorry. I didn't know that trying to remove it would . . . I'm sorry.

Nico didn't bother trying to respond to that. It was hard enough just to breathe. What is it? he asked again when he finally had a modicum of control.

I don't know, admitted Anubis. I've never seen anything like . . . well I've never seen anything that would do that before. In ancient times, during the embalming process –

You people would put stones carved into scarabs over a mummy's heart, Nico remembered. I researched death lore and customs from every major society in history after I learned I was the son of a death god. He managed to cough, the first physical sound he'd made since Anubis' attempt to remove the scarab. His chin clonking against the ugly white floor didn't count.

You are right about the scarabs being put over a mummy's heart, Anubis told him. But that was in the earlier days. Later it became the practice to actually remove the heart from the mummy and replace it with a stone scarab.

Whose bright idea was that? demanded Nico. I'll hunt their soul down and drag it to Tartarus for this.

I cannot say exactly when the tradition changed.

Why not? Aren't you supposed to be the Ancient Egyptian god of desecrating the dead in the name of embalming?

Your thoughts could be considered blasphemy, you know.

I know. I just don't care. I'm the son of Hades, remember? Do you really think I'm going to fall down on my knees and worship you and your pantheon of fools? My dad could squash you, your scales, and your pet croco-dog like you were all bugs.

You had best hope that he does not attempt to do so, Anubis cautioned the young demigod. The consequences of that would be dire.

Nico stilled his thoughts for a moment. He didn't want to admit that Anubis was right but he could hardly hide his thoughts from someone who was inside of his head. You do know that this isn't going to go over well, don't you? he asked when he managed to unmuddle his train of thought.

What?

This. You possessing me. Me having the power of another pantheon's death god at my disposal. No one from the Greek Pantheon is going to like it. Nico gave a mental chuckle. My dad will be furious out of principle. Not because he really cares about me, but because he'll see you as infringing on what belongs to him. Zeus and Poseidon won't be happy either if they find out. They'll see this as an alliance between two death gods. They'll think that my dad himself was responsible for me becoming your puppet.

It is not my intention to use you as a puppet.

They won't see it that way, Nico cautioned him. They can't find out. If they do there will be big trouble. Search my memories if you don't believe me. Zeus killed my mother trying to get to Bianca and me. Poseidon is a bit more level headed and fair, but he wouldn't be able to ignore the threat that you and my father would pose if you were allies. This is assuming that Father doesn't go on a rampage and try to destroy your entire pantheon the moment he finds out I'm possessed. It is possible that he'd kill me himself to keep you from using me.

Anubis could see his thoughts and knew that Nico was not lying to him. Their telepathy seemed to go both ways. Nico could sense how troubled Anubis was by these revelations. More than that, he could feel that Anubis really didn't want this. He hadn't wanted to take a human host, and wanted a complicated demigod host even less than he wanted another Roman Empire to rise. He really didn't have any intentions of using Nico as a medium in the mortal world. No plans for power plays against any other gods. If he could have withdrawn all of his power from Nico and cut the boy free, he would have. That surprised Nico. He was used to people trying to use him. Everyone did and always had, trying to manipulate him to their advantage, never really giving a care about his well being or what happened to him. Everyone was like that . . . except . . . except Percy.

Oh no, Nico realized as his memory was jogged. Oh . . . oh, Hades.

? Anubis sent a wordless query across their link.

Percy, Nico tried to explain. My . . . friend. My only real friend. He saw what happened in Central Park.

He was there?

No, not there. He was spirit walking. Unconsciously using astral projection. It happens to demigods when we dream.

Oh. Like sending your spirit out as a ba bird.

Nico, having studied that part of Egyptian death lore, actually knew what Anubis meant. Yes. Sort of, I guess. Anyway, Percy saw. He'll be worried. He's the only one in the world who would actually try to find me, and when he decides to do something . . . well, no one who's gone against him has ever won when he's fighting for something that really mattered to him.

And you matter to him.

I don't know why. But yeah. Somehow, I do.

You are kinsman though, are you not? asked Anubis, browsing over some of Nico's relevant memories that were fairly close to the surface.

Our fathers are brothers. That makes us parallel cousins. I have one other parallel cousin in this generation . . . Thalia . . . a handful of cross cousins, and more second cousins than I can count. But for demigods extended family really doesn't mean anything. Our gods don't have DNA, so we're really not related. The only ones who might count are your siblings, and even then . . . even then, not usually.

Yet your cousin Percy looks out for you.

Yeah . . . He always has. Nico felt ashamed remembering how much of a brat he'd been to Percy after Bianca died. And Percy had still tried to watch out for him, and had risked way too much to save him. For awhile he'd tried to make it up to Percy and get them back to even so that he wouldn't be in debt, but somewhere along the line it had stopped mattering who owed who what. Somehow they'd just become friends.

You are fortunate, Anubis told him.

I know. Nico tried to pick himself up off the floor now that his thoughts were coming clearer. It took four tries before he managed to get to his hands and knees. I need to go find him. Let him know I'm all right.

You're in no shape to go anywhere right now.

Whose fault is that? demanded Nico.

Even if I hadn't attempted to remove the scarab, you were weak before. You should wash up and then rest again. Your body is still very weak.

I am not weak, Nico thought angrily.

Compared to your usual strength you are.

Nico crawled toward the tub, which was almost full now. I'll get a bath. Then I need to find a way to contact Percy. If I don't he's going to cause an inter-pantheon incident trying to save me. And even if that wasn't a certainty, I owe it to him to give him peace of mind, at least.

Very well. I will leave it up to your discretion.

Good. Now leave my head while you're at it, if you don't mind. I'm not getting a bath while there's someone else in my skull.

..............................

Percy had had a rough four days, since Nico disappeared. And the worst part of it was that no one but him seemed to really care.

He thought that people had gotten passed their prejudices against Nico being the son of Hades. Everyone had wanted to be his best friend after the battle at the foot of the Empire State building, when Nico showed up with his father and an army of zombies and turned the tides in their favor. But now everyone either seemed to have forgotten about that or thought that Nico would be fine on his own.

Chiron, who Percy had expected more from, was certain that Nico was alright. But he hadn't seen Nico writhing in the thrall of those damned ribbons with blood streaming out of his eyes like ink. He was willing to share what little he knew about the House of Life with Percy though he didn't seem to think it was necessary.

"They're based in Egypt, but have influence throughout all of Africa and plenty of Europe. They don't have a lot to do with North America because there's not a lot here for them. And they know that we're here and they try to avoid us. We don't cause problems for them, but if we wanted to there wouldn't be a thing they could do about it," he'd explained. "Their magicians are for the most part normal humans with a few tricks up their sleeve, but not much else. The gods their ancestors worshiped are from different planes than our pantheon. Despite what certain scholars believe, our gods and theirs have never overlapped. When Egypt fell to the Roman Empire, the House of Life blamed their gods for their own shortcomings and turned on them. They've spent the last two thousand years busy imprisoning their gods and keeping them imprisoned."

"Well now it looks like they're moving on to Greek gods," Percy had responded to Chiron angrily.

"That's very unlikely for several reasons, Percy. Hundred of years ago a few attempts were made by the House of Life to banish Greek gods the same way they banished their own, but it never worked. Their power, in its rawest form, isn't harmful to our gods."

"But Nico's a demigod," Percy had argued, "and it sure as heck hurt him."

"Perhaps he was bluffing in your dream," Chiron suggested. "I promise you, their power cannot banish our gods and would be just as ineffective at trying to banish demigods. You all are anchored in this world by your mortal parents' genes after all. You have just as much right to be here as the House of Life's magicians. And even if they discovered some way to harm demigods, it's unlikely they would pick now to start a war. They have been having rather a lot of problems with their own pantheon escaping banishment, these past few months."

Annabeth had been preoccupied with her architecture projects and hadn't been any more willing to believe. "You worry too much about Nico, Percy," she told him when he went to her for help. "There's no need for it. You know what he can and will do to anyone who threatens him."

"You didn't see him," Percy had told her. "These House of Life freaks had Nico dead." He'd quickly rephrased as a chill ran down his spine when he realized his wording. "I mean they had him nailed. Whatever they did to him took all the fight out of him. He's hurt, Annabeth. I don't know where he is, but he knew I was watching, and if he hasn't contacted me to let me know he's okay it's because he can't."

So since the gathering knowledge part of his plans hadn't worked out very well, and the taking action part couldn't really come until he had a destination or a specific person to take action against, he'd resorted to some pitiful attempts at hunting Nico's kidnappers down himself.

The internet had been even less helpful than the people at Camp Half-Blood. Of course all he'd had to go on for the kids who might have been holding Nico was their first names and the fact that Sadie was British, and searches for the House of Life turned up a big fat nothing.

His next action was even more useless, and was taken up mainly because he couldn't just sit around doing nothing. He'd called up Blackjack after returning Paul's car and had spent three days flying around New York, particularly in the Central Park area, looking for any signs of anything suspicious, and keeping a particularly close eye on the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which he knew had some Egyptian artifacts in it, and big stone obelisk that was in the park.

As he'd expected, nothing had turned up. At the end of each day he'd returned to camp and struggled to fall asleep. For once he was hoping for dreams, because they were the most likely thing he had to link him to his friend, and since they came stronger at camp, he had a better chance at finding Nico if he could fall asleep there. His mother wasn't too happy about him missing school, but Percy didn't think it occurred to her for a moment to try to stop him after he'd explained the situation to her and Paul.

Sally found Nico particularly endearing, to the point where Percy was certain she made Nico uncomfortable. Her mothering instincts seemed to go up a few notches whenever poor motherless Nico was around, and frankly Percy was surprised that Nico hadn't freaked out completely and run away from her apartment, never to return. He really couldn't believe that he managed to successfully talk Nico into coming over for Sunday dinner at least once a month, every month, since camp had ended last summer.

Percy really was trying hard to fall asleep the night he finally got contact from Nico. Unfortunately for him, though he was thankful a few minutes later, he was well aware that the harder someone tries to fall asleep, the more likely it is that they'll stay awake. If he'd been even a little drowsy at all, he might have missed the soft but urgent voice coming from the saltwater fountain in his cabin.

"Percy? Percy!"

Percy sat up, immediately alert. He recognized that voice. "Nico?"

"Percy, can you hear me?"

He saw his fountain glowing an eerie reddish color and wasted no time rushing to it and crouching down to peer in the mist. "Nico, is that you?"

Nico's face appeared, though it seemed slightly distorted, like Percy was seeing him through a thick piece of glass. But he still looked a whole lot better than the last time Percy had seen him. The black veins that had been visible through his translucent skin were gone now, and his hair wasn't matted with blood anymore. It was a bit damp and hung lank around his face. His shirt was wet too, and very wrinkled, and his jacket was missing. There were dark shadows under his eyes, like he was exhausted, and he looked like he might collapse at any time. He was very, very far away from healthy, but he gave a tired smile when he saw Percy. "Thank Iris," he said. "I didn't really think this would work."

"Nico, are you okay?" demanded Percy.

"Mostly," answered Nico.

Mostly was good enough for now, as far as Percy was concerned. Alive was better than he'd expected. They could fix whatever was wrong later, after he found his cousin. "What happened? Where are you?"

"I'm not really sure what happened myself," Nico told him, "and I'm not positive where I am."

"Are you being held prisoner?" Percy wanted to know.

"I haven't really gotten a chance to talk with the people holding me," said Nico. Percy got the sense from Nico's tone that there was more to that statement than he could get from its surface value, but he could worry about that later.

"Who are they?" he asked.

"Those two kids. Sadie and Carter. I don't know their last names. They're the only two people that I've seen here. Unless you count their pet monkey. I think they let their monkey put a needle in my arm and hook me up to an IV, Percy." Nico sounded very disturbed.

Percy found that it was a bit easier to think now that he knew that Nico was alive, relatively well, and didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. "Do you know anything about where you are that will help me find you?"

"I can see the Statue of Liberty and the harbor in front of it from my window," Nico told him. "There's a balcony, but I can't go out on it. The door is sealed and I couldn't throw a chair through it. I'm pretty high up. The door of my room is locked too, and I'm not strong enough to shadow travel. I can't get out of here on my own . . ."

His eyes were intense and a little desperate and there was an almost pleading note in his voice, yet Percy was amazed that Nico still seemed unable to ask for help, even at a time like this.

"I'll come find you," Percy told him. "I've got Blackjack on standby."

"The glass though . . . it's either magic proof or bulletproof. Maybe both. I couldn't break it. Not with a chair or my sword."

"Then I'll just have to find another way in," said Percy. "Do those kids know who they're messing with?"

Nico bowed his head slightly. "They know who I am," he muttered.

"You mean they know your name?"

"They know who my dad is."

Percy frowned. "So they do know what they're messing with."

"I don't know." Nico closed his eyes and shook his head as though he was trying to rattle his thoughts back into place. "I was unconscious for four days, after that night in the park, Percy. When I woke up the first time it was only for a few minutes, and I only had time to . . . well . . . I- they . . ."

"It's okay, Nico," interrupted Percy. "Take your time. Breathe."

"When I woke up the first time . . . I was awake long enough to learn that . . . to learn that they know who I am and who my father is, but I don't think they know the full extent of that."

"Do you know how they found out?" Percy wanted to know.

Nico's face darkened with shame. "I . . . I told them."

Talking in his sleep, Percy thought. Or under the influence of drugs maybe? He could tell from Nico's face that he hadn't given up the information willingly. He just hoped for Carter and Sadie's sake that they hadn't tortured it out of Nico. If they had then there would be Hades for them to pay. And that would come after Percy was finished with them.

"It's not your fault," Percy told him quickly. "Don't fret over it, Nico."

Nico didn't look like he felt absolved of guilt by Percy's words. If anything he looked even more troubled. "I passed out again shortly after I woke up. I don't know how much time has passed since then."

"Not more than a few hours," Percy assured him. "Right now you've been missing for four days. This is the evening of the fourth day, I mean. I've been trying to find you ever since, but I had no idea where to look. I took Paul's car and went to Central Park that night. I got there too late to save you. You were already gone, as were the two House of Life freaks and the two kidnappers in training. I've been looking for you ever since. My mom's worried too. She's not complaining that I've been missing school to fly around looking for you."

"Miss Sally's worried?"

"She is," Percy told him, watching as Nico looked at him in disbelief. "I had to promise her I'd bring you by when I found you so she can see with her own eyes that you're still in one piece." He tried to smile, hoping to lighten the conversation up a little. "You better be careful. Tuesday is meatloaf night, and she puts peas and pearl onions in it."

Nico didn't look as horrified at that as he usually would have. He seemed to slouch a bit and looked like he was running out of energy fast.

"Nico? Hey, look at me!"

"Huh?" Nico blinked. "Sorry. I'm tired."

"Stay awake, just a few more minutes," Percy told him.

"We only had five minutes," muttered Nico.

"What?"

"I only had one drachma. There were more in my jacket, but . . . they took it. They didn't even wait until I was completely dead to go through my pockets looking for change." Nico looked very put out by this.

Five minutes. How long had they been talking already?

"Nico," said Percy urgently. "Can you tell me anything else that will help me find where you are?"

"Huh? Oh. Statue of Liberty. And the harbor. House is right on a river bank." Nico's eyelids fluttered like camera shutters. "I . . . hate . . . white curtains. White curtains cover the balcony sliding door. It's glass. I can't open it."

A tall house on a river, probably the East River. Percy pieced together everything Nico said in his mind. Nico's room had a balcony, sliding door, and white curtains. "Good, Nico. Anything else?"

"There's a monkey in the house. A really. Freaking. Ugly monkey."

"Okay, there's a monkey. Anything else about the house?"

"The door to my room is locked. I don't know what's beyond it."

"That's okay. Can you tell me anything else that you can see from your window?"

"I don't know anything else." Nico could barely keep his eyes open. "Don't know the buildings. Don't come to NYC much. The light is on in my room. Had to turn it on to send this message. Had to trick out a crystal ashtray to send this message. They left health food in the refrigerator but put an ashtray in the room. That's hypocritical. It doesn't make any sense."

It wasn't the only thing that didn't make any sense, but Percy couldn't really blame Nico right now.

"All right, so your light is on. That's good," Percy told him. "Keep it on, okay? It will help me find you."

"Okay." Nico gave a very sleepy smile. "I'll try . . . try to leave you another sign too."

"What sort of sign?"

"A skull maybe?"

"Um . . . I think I'll be okay without that," Percy told him, not sure what Nico had in mind and not sure that he wanted to know. "You just get near the window so I can see you, and wait for me, okay?"

"'Kay."

"Alright. I'm coming for you now."

"Wait!" Nico's eyes shot open again and he looked alarmed.

"What? Are you alright?"

"They took my jacket."

Percy frowned at his cousin.

"Most of my money was in there. And my sword, but that came back to me. But not my jacket. They've still got it."

"Forget the jacket," Percy told him.

"No, no, no. I need a jacket," Nico said urgently. "Any jacket."

Several dark images came into Percy's mind at Nico's insistence that he have a jacket. Cuts on his arms, scars on his wrists, and needle tracks were at the forefront of them, and he decided that he'd have to take a look at Nico's arms when he rescued the kid. "I'll bring you one of mine then, okay? Will that work?"

Nico nodded. He looked down, as though trying to see the logo on his shirt. "As long as it zips up. Or buttons."

"Alright then. I'm on my way now."

"You're really coming?"

"Of course I'm coming. Get to the window and wait for me. I'll be there before you know it.

.............................

P.S:Sorry if Nico's acting a little out of character near the end. My reasoning for having him act like that was b/c in my limited experience I've noticed people who are exhausted tend to A) get mad and irritable at everyone and everything, B) start to think that everything's funny, regardless of whether or not it really is, or C) start acting dim and drowsy or childlike.