CHAPTER NINE:
RAISED AND MAIMED

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UNDERGROUND WAS NOT JASON'S favourite place. He stuck close to Annais' side as they paced through the shadows, gazing up at the dewy limestone ceiling like he feared it would fall on their heads. Each footstep sounded like a gunshot in the empty silence. Not a single living soul had ventured down those stairs in quite some time. But the dead... the dead. Annais could feel them standing against the walls, parting like the red sea to drag them in deeper.

"This place..." she breathed, afraid to speak louder than a whisper. The words echoed and became a wail, a dead girl's lament with no one to hear it. "I don't like it."

Gaea could defeat them so easily, and no one would be wiser for it.

Beside her, Jason flinched. At first, she thought it was because of her voice, abrupt as it was, but he'd swung around to brandish his sword at a dusty statue of the glowering Diocletian.

"Don't have a heart attack on me, Grace," Annais chuckled as he sighed and lowered his sword. "Just breathe."

He shot her a pointed look, raising his eyebrows at her brilliant advice, before reaching into his pocket for a slip of paper. Annais caught a flash of Reyna's name on the front before he tucked the message between the statue's foot and the pedestal it stood on.

"Alright--"

Whatever Jason was going to say was drowned out by a soft, inquisitive voice greeting them from the passage they'd just exited. "Hello."

Annais gasped. She hadn't heard the footsteps following them. Once again, Jason flinched and whirled around. This time, his sword cut through ancient limestone, and Diocletian's head shattered across the cobblestone.

"That wasn't very nice."

"Who are you?" Annais called out in her best attempt at confidence. Like the next few seconds weren't so uncertain.

Out of the shadows came the angel-man from earlier. At his feet sat a wicker basket topped with a red and white picnic blanket and a bundle of fruits. "Hi there." He turned back to Jason. "So? What did Diocletian ever do to you?"

"Well -- I, uh--"

His voice trailed off as the air swirled around his feet. The shattered marble glued itself back together bit by bit, floating through the air to rest on its pedestal once more. Untouched, no cracks remaining across Diocletian's stern expression.

Out of sheer surprise, Jason lowered his sword. Annais raised her own in his place, a precautionary measure even though she had no reason to believe the angel-man was dangerous. "It was an accident. You startled me."

Angel-man laughed. "Jason Grace, the West Wind has been called many things. Warm, gentle, life-giving, and devilishly handsome." Annais scanned his tank top and sandals with a scrunched up nose. Oh, yeah. Talk about sex appeal. "But I have never been called startling. I leave that crass behaviour to my gusty brethren in the North."

Nico ducked behind Annais and Jason. His wariness was palpable as he echoed, "The West Wind? You mean you're..."

"Favonius," Jason declared. "God of the West Wind."

"Another Wind God," Annais sighed, and Favonius smiled, bowing his head towards Annais at her words, "You can call me by my Roman name, certainly, or Zephyros, if you're Greek. I'm not hung up about it."

Nico frowned at him, his pale features sullen behind the shade of his dark fringe. "Why aren't your Greek and Roman sides in conflict, like the other Gods?"

That was a good question Annais hadn't considered. She turned back to Zephyros, waiting for an answer.

"Oh, I have the occasional headache," he insisted. "Some mornings, I'll wake up in a Greek chiton when I'm sure I went to sleep in my SPQR pyjamas--"

"And this look?" Annais asked, gesturing to his sandals. "I'm guessing Roman."

"How could you tell?" Zephyros smirked. Nico cleared his throat, drawing the wind God's attention back his way again. "Mostly, the war doesn't bother me. I'm a minor God, you know. Never really been much in the limelight. The to-and-fro battles among you demigods don't affect me as greatly."

"Must be nice," Annais muttered bitterly.

For a moment, each side watched each other and waited for the next move. Zephyros paced around the statue of Diocletian with an easy smile on his face. Nico stepped back whenever he came too close.

"So," Jason cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?"

"Several things! Hanging out with my basket of fruit -- I always carry a basket of fruit. Would you like a pear?"

"I'm good. Thanks."

If Zephyros was disappointed that neither Annais or Nico answered, he didn't show it. Eating fruit offered to them by a stranger. Annais had heard that one before. She wasn't going to be stuck underground if she could help it.

"Let's see..." Zephyros hummed, tapping his pointer finger on his chin. "Well, earlier, I was eating ice cream. Right now, I'm tossing this quoit thing."

Annais had no clue what a 'quoit' thing was, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. The flash of bronze danced around his finger and then disappeared into his palm, again and again without fail.

"I mean why did you appear to us?" Jason asked, trying to sound firm. "Why did you lead us to this cellar?"

"Oh! The sarcophagus of Diocletian. Yes. This was its final resting place. The Christians moved it out of the mausoleum. Then some barbarians destroyed the coffin. I just wanted to show you..." He let out a disappointed sigh, like he was truly sorry they'd wasted their time. Annais narrowed her eyes at him. "That what you're looking for isn't here. My master has taken it."

"Your master?" Jason frowned. "Please tell me your master isn't Aeolus."

Annais hadn't been present when Jason, Piper, Leo and Mel faced Aeolus, and part of her was glad she hadn't. Her distaste, though, didn't run as deep as it did for Zephyros. His nose scrunched up at the name that was unfortunately familiar. "That airhead? No, of course not."

"He means Eros," Nico snapped. "Cupid, in Latin."

Zephyros regarded him with a pleasant but knowing smile. "Very good, Nico Di Angelo. I'm glad to see you again, by the way. It's been a long time."

Annais rounded on her brother. Was that why he seemed so cagey? But Nico looked genuinely confused. "I've never met you."

"You've never seen me," he corrected. "But I've been watching you. When you came here as a small boy, and several times since. I knew eventually you would return to look upon my master's face."

All the blood drained from Nico's face. Annais shifted uneasily.

"Nico?" This was Jason. "What's he talking about?"

Nico hesitated. Annais wasn't sure if Jason noticed, but she did. He knew. He just didn't want to admit it. Or maybe he couldn't. "I don't know," Nico stammered. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Zephyros laughed incredulously. "The one you care for most... plunged into Tartarus... and still you will not allow the truth?"

"Wait," Annais frowned. "Nico, what does he mean by that?"

Her brother refused to meet her eyes while Annais pondered over the words. The one you care for most. Could that mean Ezra, his sister? Or was Annais missing something...

"We've only come for Diocletian's sceptre," Nico muttered. "Where is it?"

This time, Zephyros gave a sympathetic nod. His sad expression suddenly seemed dangerous, a threat lying in plain sight. "You thought it would be as easy as facing Diocletian's ghost? I'm afraid not, Nico. Your trials will be much more difficult."

Nico gulped, and Annais moved in front of him again, fiercely protective. Whatever Nico kept hidden, he did it for a reason.

"You know, long before this was Diocletian's Palace, it was the gateway to my master's court. I've dwelt here for aeons, bringing those who sought love into the presence of Cupid."

"Like Psyche, Cupid's wife," Jason murmured. "You carried her to his palace."

Zephyros' smile was slow and calculating. "Very good, Jason Grace. From this exact spot, I carried Psyche on the winds and brought her to the chambers of my master. In fact, that is why Diocletian built his palace here. This place has always been graced by the gentle West Wind." He spread his arms out wide in a victorious gesture. "It is a spot of tranquillity and love in a turbulent world. When Diocletian's Palace was ransacked--"

"You took the sceptre."

"For safekeeping," Zephyros was turning out to be a brilliant liar. "It is one of Cupid's many treasures, a reminder of better times. If you want it..." He turned to Nico, directing each word at him like blunt blades. "You must face the God of Love."

Nico's jaw clenched like he was in pain. So it was love that cursed him then. This ruled out Ezra. So did he love Annabeth?

Or Percy?

Annais' eyes widened.

But Jason hadn't put the pieces together just yet. "Nico, you can do this. It might be embarrassing, but it's for the sceptre."

"Nico--"

"You're right," he spoke over Annais, voice thick with resignation, and fear. He was terrified. Annais' heart broke. Her brother deserved the whole world. "I -- I'm not afraid of a love God."

Zephyros laughed again, soft but doubtful. Still, he clapped his hands together in excitement, the bronze quoit dipping from palm to palm. "Excellent! Would you like a snack before you go?" He plucked a green apple from his basket then pouted at it. "Oh, bluster. I keep forgetting my symbol is a basket of unripe fruit. Why doesn't the Spring wind get more credit? Summer has all the fun."

"That's okay," Nico squared his shoulders in preparation. "Just take us to Cupid."

"Nico," Annais moved closer so only he could hear. In one last desperate attempt, she murmured, "We can turn back. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. I'm sure Jason would understand--"

But it was too loud. Zephyros, as if he knew that Annais was talking Nico down from a cliff of his own making, used this moment to strike. With one wave of his hand, the three of them dissolved into the Mist.

Once again, Annais Min no longer had a body. If she had a nickel for every time this happened, she'd have two nickels, which wasn't much but it was weird that it happened twice. In a way, travelling as the wind reminded her of shadow travelling. Her body and the earth were one, soil in her lungs and veins. She moved like the universe was within reach; an empty vessel, so maimed in its mortality.

When they reached the mountains in the distance, the Argo II and its bay were now long out of sight. Zephyros guided them down to an abandoned town where ruins stretched out in its shadow. Their bodies slammed against the ground as they were reformed, and Annais gasped as her heart caught up with her mind.

"Yes, mortal bodies are terribly bulky," Zephyros said sympathetically. "Honestly, I don't know how you stand it, day in and day out."

"I'm used to it," Annais mumbled, though her tense stance said otherwise.

"Same," Nico insisted, and yet he moved on woozy feet.

Zephyros smiled. Perhaps he admired their persistence, their stubbornness to the point of naivety. "Welcome to Salona," he threw his arms wide and gestured to the land around them. It was dotted with excavated houses and the likes, long since forgotten or given up on. "Capital of Dalmatia and the birthplace of Diocletian! But before that, long before that, it was the home of Cupid."

This time, the name took on a new meaning. Annais thought of the winged baby at first, the one in a diaper carrying heart-shaped arrows for Valentine' Day. The Aphrodite cabin decorated the whole of Camp Half-Blood without fail for Valentine's Day, unable to resist feeding into the tacky mortal's idea of the love God despite knowing the truth. Eros -- or Cupid -- was nothing like what Annais pictured.

Zephyros seemed to agree. "Oh, he's not like that."

Jason flinched. "You can read my mind?"

So it wasn't just Annais thinking it. At the idea of Zephyros picking through her brain, her personal thoughts and memories, a horrible shudder wracked her body. Had she given Nico up by thinking there was a possibility he could love Percy? Had Zephyros seen her darkest fears and relished in them, too?

"Oh, I don't need to," he said. "Everyone has the wrong impression of Cupid... until they meet him."

"Fantastic," Annais grimaced.

(Spoiler alert; nothing about this was fucking fantastic!)

From the corner of her eye, Annais noticed Nico bracing himself against a column, his legs trembling visibly. She rushed towards him, putting a stabilising hand on his arm, but Nico gently pushed her back.

"Hey, man..." Jason seemed confused.

Still, he hadn't realised the root of Nico's panic. Nico shook his head at him, too, choking on his words. His breathing was shallow and desperate. At Nico's feet, the grass began to wither, turning a dark shade of brown like mud, like rotted fruit. The dead patch spread outward at a fast pace, soon reaching where Annais had backed up next to Jason.

"I don't blame you for being nervous, Nico Di Angelo," sighed Zephyros. "Do you know how I ended up serving Cupid?"

"I don't serve anyone," Nico spat, trembling hands clenched into fists. "Especially not Cupid."

But Zephyros continued as if he hadn't spoken. "I fell in love with a mortal named Hyacinthus. He was quite extraordinary."

"He?" Annais turned to Jason. Adorably, he seemed confused, if not a little out of it from becoming the wind and reforming again. She elbowed his arm. "Oh."

"Yes, Jason Grace, I fell in love with a dude," Zephyros stared at him. "Does that shock you?"

Jason cleared his throat, a faint dust of pink coating his cheeks. He didn't notice the way Nico looked at him, brimming with hope and choking on fear as he waited for Jason's answer. Annais frowned. She wanted to hug her little brother and never let go.

"I guess not," Jason said, but Nico's expression didn't change. He didn't believe him. "So... Cupid struck you with his arrow, and you fell in love."

"You make it sound so simple. Alas, love is never simple." Now Jason had to agree with that. He wore a shadow of a smile, a brief flash of it on his lips as he glanced at Annais then away again. "You see, the God Apollo also liked Hyacinthus. He claimed they were just friends. I don't know. But one day, I came across them together, playing a game of quoits--"

In that context, it certainly sounded inappropriate. "Quoits?" Annais raised an eyebrow at him.

"A game with those hoops," Nico explained, though his voice was brittle, his body a lifeless shell in a bronze jar again. "Like horseshoes."

"Sort of," Zephyros hummed. "At any rate, I was jealous. Instead of confronting them and finding out the truth, I shifted the wind and sent a heavy metal ring right at Hyacinthus's head and... well."

Yikes.

This was what Annais feared -- or used to, as she reminded herself all the time. She was working through it. Annais feared the kind of love that would kill, that would maim you and break you, build you up just to let you crash and burn. The kind of love that was never done, the pain a constant ache in the back of your throat, squeezing the last bits of life from you like blood from a wound.

But Annais was getting used to it.

"As Hyacinthus died, Apollo turned him into a flower, the hyacinth. I'm sure Apollo would've taken horrible vengeance on me, but Cupid offered me his protection," Zephyros' shame seemed genuine. He, too, knew the agony of love. He'd killed for it in the literal sense, and now he paid the price. "I'd done a terrible thing, but I'd been driven mad by love so he spared me on the condition that I work for him forever."

Once again, that dreaded name rang through the ruins. It was like a church bell, a bird's call, building and rushing into a crescendo. Annais whipped her head around but she saw nothing. All of a sudden, she felt like someone was watching her.

This was no ghost.

"That would be my cue," Zephyros sighed. Annais and Jason seemed to disappear from sight as he met Nico's eyes. "Think long and hard about how you proceed, Nico Di Angelo. You cannot lie to Cupid. If you let your anger rule you... well, your fate will be even sadder than mine."

With that, he disappeared, and the ground began to shake. BOOM! Annais held her sword up and searched for the ghost that wasn't a ghost.

So, his deep baritone voice washed over them, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. You've come to claim the sceptre.

"Cupid," Jason called out. "Where are you?"

Someone laughed. Oh, where you least expect me, as love always is.

Annais barely had time to blink before something crashed into her chest. She gasped, fighting against the invisible hold that pinned her to a nearby column, her sword slicing through thin air.

I would think you'd know better, Jason Grace, Cupid's voice was right in her ear, but it was also looming over Jason, who Annais had just realised was sprawled halfway down the street. She could see his golden hair glinting in the bright light. You've found true love, after all. Or do you still doubt yourself?

Annais paused. She watched Jason's face for a sign of emotion, an explanation, but... nothing. What do you mean by that, Cupid? Fortunately, the God of love didn't answer. He seemed too focused on Nico scrambling over to Jason. They spoke for a moment, their voices out of earshot for Annais, but she heard Cupid's amused laugh.

Oh, did you expect me to play fair? I am the god of love. I am never fair.

From thin air, an arrow materialised, heading in the direction of Nico's head. Jason just managed to intercept it with his sword. It ricocheted in Annais' direction, colliding with the next column over and exploding in a burst of limestone pieces. A few scraped Annais' face, and she winced and fought against the hold on her torso. The invisible grip tightened. It felt like a heavy cord wringing every last drop of air out of her lungs.

"Is this guy Love or Death?" she heard Jason huff through her rising panic. She desperately needed a weapon of some kind to escape Cupid's hold.

Ask your friends, Cupid said as Annais began to struggle again. Frank, Hazel and Percy met my counterpart, Thanatos. We are not so different. Except Death is sometimes kinder.

"You can let my sister go! We just want the sceptre!" Nico shouted. "We're trying to stop Gaea. Are you on the Gods' side or not?"

In response, Cupid shot another arrow at him. Nico had to throw himself to the ground to avoid it. Love is on every side, and no one's side. Don't ask what Love can do for you.

"Great," Jason rolled his eyes. "Now he's spouting greeting card messages."

Annais hadn't expected Cupid to release her. She gasped as he dropped her, the heels of her feet slamming against the cobblestone so hard that her ankles burned. She struggled to right herself, scrambling for her sword as Jason lurched forward and grappled with the invisible God. Cupid slipped through his fingers like water. Only a trail of ichor remained. It disappeared into the dark shadow or a nearby bathhouse.

Very good, Jason, Cupid conceded. At least you can sense my presence. Even a glancing hit at true love is more than most heroes manage.

"So now I get the sceptre?"

Cupid laughed, and Annais huffed in frustration. Unfortunately, you could not wield it. Only a child of the Underworld can summon the dead legions. And only an officer of Rome can lead them.

"But..." Jason swallowed thickly. Steeled himself against insecurity. "Just leave that to us. Nico and Annais can summon--"

At the same time, Cupid shot another arrow. It buried itself in Nico's shoulder. He stumbled, grappling for an arrow that dissolved until only the gaping wound remained.

Annais let out a furious shout. She couldn't take her eyes off the crimson stain. But she forced herself to pause for just a second. To breathe, to listen. Cupid's laugh seemed to come from one place this time. Quickly, she swung her own sword and caught his arm. Gold spurted and splattered on her face.

A fair attempt, Annais Min. Annais gasped as an arrow materialised her way. It sunk into her leg just as Jason reached for her. He held her steady as the world tipped and faded. Her whole thigh burned, ripping and tearing to the bone. This arrow dissolved too. But Annais could still feel it as Jason carried her aside, a phantom shadow that moved beneath her skin. Nico's eyes were sorrowful but resigned.

"Enough games!" he demanded. "Show yourself!"

Cupid paused. It's a costly thing, looking at the true face of Love.

"Isn't that what you want, Cupid?" Annais grunted. She let out a cry as Cupid answered by toppling over the column she leant against. Jason shoved her out of the way, narrowly dodging the crumbling stone himself. Annais wanted to be sick.

My wife Psyche learned that lesson, he continued as if Annais hadn't spoken. She was brought here aeons ago, when this was the site of my palace. We met only in the dark. She was warned never to look upon me, and yet she could not stand the mystery. She feared I was a monster. One night, she lit a candle, and beheld my face as I slept.

"Were you that ugly?" Jason squeezed Annais' hand once -- sent her a promising look -- then began to inch away, sword raised in what he hoped seemed to be a casual, unassuming stance. Annais watched him carefully.

I was too handsome, I'm afraid, Cupid chuckled. A mortal cannot gaze upon the true appearance of a God without suffering consequences. My mother, Aphrodite, cursed Psyche for her distrust. My poor lover was tormented, forced into exile, given horrible tasks to prove her worth. She was even sent to the Underworld on a quest to show her dedication. She earned her way back to my side, but she suffered greatly.

Lightning shattered the sky in two as Jason thrust his sword into the air. The blue canvas stitched itself back together as Cupid's voice went quiet.

"Is he...?" Annais trailed off just as the love God knocked Jason to the ground.

A good try, but Love cannot be pinned down so easily.

A God's anger was like a burning fuse, boiling down to one almighty explosion. Annais managed to drag herself even further away from Jason and Nico as walls began to collapse around them. She could barely see through the dust, eyes stinging, but she heard Nico screaming. She tried and failed to stand, her right leg going numb.

"Stop it! It's me you want. Leave him alone!"

Poor Nico Di Angelo. Do you know what you want, much less what I want? My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love. It was the only way to atone for her lack of faith. And you...

What have you risked in my name?

"I've been to Tartarus and back. You don't scare me."

I scare you very, very much.

Face me.

Be honest.

Love, as Annais had come to learn, was a double-edged sword. Love was as beautiful as Aphrodite, brutal as Ares, sly as Hermes. Love was vengeful like Zeus, loss like Hades. It was everything and nothing at once. This love that Cupid spoke of? It was twisted. He was so... bitter. For his story ended in Death. Why should someone else feel the glow of Aphrodite when the rest of the Gods festered in mayhem?

Around Nico, the ground began to crack. Annais recognised the bare white hue of bone reaching for life once more. Nico's very own skeletal army there to shield him time and time again.

"Give us Diocletian's sceptre," he demanded. "We don't have time for games."

Games? This infuriated Cupid. Love is no game! There is no flowery softness! It is hard work, a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you. Especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards.

"Nico," Jason turned to him. He'd seen Annais, balanced on one knee and trying to drag herself up, and was torn between leaving her or potentially dragging her into Cupid's attention span again. She was pale; the lips he kissed a dull purple, eyes dazed as she swayed. Her jeans were ripped back to reveal a seeping wound coated in blood and grime. He needed to get to her, but he was stuck. "Nico, what does this guy want from you?"

Slowly, he took a step in her direction. Cupid spoke, but it was to taunt Nico. Tell him, Nico di Angelo. Tell him you are a coward, afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him the real reason you ran from Camp Half-Blood, and why you are always alone.

The cracks at his feet splintered. Jason stumbled back, making one last attempt to reach Annais as the skeletons crawled out of ancient graves. Some were dressed in tattered togas, others in dust-encrusted armour that rattled against their bones. They stood in a circle around Nico, waiting for his command. Some stared down Jason, who had one arm around Annais' waist while his other hand hefted his sword.

"I've got you," he said beneath the echo of Cupid's laughter. Annais clung to his shirt, hot tears burning behind her eyes. Useless, she'd become a pawn in Cupid's game. Clinging to the only beautiful part of love while Nico suffered with the scraps.

Will you hide among the dead, as you always do?

Darkness seeped out of Nico's skin, but not the kind Annais was used to. "Nico," she squeezed Jason's arm and tried to push him away. Confused, he resisted. "Jason, please, help him--"

Percy. In a blink, the son of Poseidon was the only thing on Annais' mind. In every memory, he was golden, not to her but to another... Nico saw Percy like she saw Jason. Perhaps this was their curse, the loving gaze from Death's perspective. To be stuck in darkness while they glowed. Percy was a hero to Nico Di Angelo, the first to show kindness, to make promises that could not be kept.

When Annais came out of her daze, Jason's expression was grim. At last, he knew. While they were distracted, Nico's skeletal army had tackled something invisible. Bits of bone broke away as Cupid resisted then went limp as the skeletons covered him like brittle skin.

Interesting... Do you have the strength, after all?

Nico was panting but he'd barely broken a sweat. Each word was desperate, one last attempt to keep his feelings to himself. "I left Camp Half-Blood because of love. Annabeth... she--"

Cupid let out a roar. This time, he overpowered the skeletons. Several were sent back where they came from. Still hiding. You do not have the strength.

"Nico, it's okay," Jason exclaimed, to which Nico looked miserable. "I get it."

"No, you don't," he whispered. "There's no way you can understand."

"We do, Nico," Annais said. Her words were slurred at the edges but insistent. Hopelessly, she tried to lean on Jason's shoulder and hop forward. She would've crawled to him if she had to, but her strength, the one thing she could always count on, had been snatched so easily. Frustration and despair hung over her head like a dark, sombre cloud.

You're running away again, Cupid continued to taunt him. From your friends, your family. Yourself.

"I don't have friends!" Nico yelled. "I left Camp Half-Blood because I don't belong. I'll never belong!"

The first of Annais' tears fell. Her jaw clenched as Cupid laughed, a cruel and hollow sound. This version of love lacked compassion. It was toxic and heart-eating and Nico didn't deserve it.

"Leave him alone, Cupid," Jason demanded. "This isn't..."

Nico's voice was like broken glass. It splintered into pieces, tore his sister -- the big sister, the protector -- to shreds. He dropped to his knees in the dead grass. "I wasn't in love with Annabeth."

"You were jealous of her," Jason sighed. "That's why you didn't want to be around her. Especially why you didn't want to be around him. It makes total sense, Nico."

The last of the skeletons collapsed into piles of dust. "I hated myself," Nico whimpered. "I hated Percy Jackson."

Annais wondered, then, if Ezra had known. If part of her had resisted her own feelings to save her brother a bit of heartache. It seemed like something she would do.

As Nico's shoulders slumped with defeat, the boy ready to reveal the truth, a man appeared. Cupid. He had wings as white as snow, hair as dark as ink. He wore mortal clothes, jeans and sneakers, but he carried a bow and quiver over his shoulder, each arrow-tip sharpened to bludgeon. Blood red eyes, harrowed features; he was young but gaunt, strong but tired. And smug. He was so pleased to be hurting Nico, to be outing him without remorse.

Cupid, Annais decided with finality, was not Love. He was Hate. Greed. Gluttony.

"I had a crush on Percy," Nico declared. "That's the truth. That's the big secret. Happy now?"

"I wouldn't say Love always makes you happy," Cupid replied.

Nico's revelation had satiated him. His voice sounded smaller now, much more human. Compassion leaked through, but Annais trusted it like she trusted a knife not to cut, a wound not to bleed. Cupid looked down at her leg then, and with one wave of his hand, her vision went black and the pain faded. When the world righted itself, the air rushed back into her lungs. Her leg didn't hurt anymore.

"Sometimes, it makes you incredibly sad. But at least you've faced it now. That's the only way to conquer me."

He was gone.

Nico had done it, but at what cost?

Where Cupid had stood moments before now laid an ivory staff topped with a dark sphere of gleaming marble. Three gold Roman eagles circled the globe. Nico picked it up like it was made of glass. He seemed lifeless, dull at the edges, merely holding it and looking at Jason with wide eyes as Annais surged forward and hugged him.

"If the others found out--"

"If the others found out," Jason repeated firmly, "You'd have that many more people to back you up, and to unleash the fury of the Gods on anybody who gives you trouble." Nico didn't seem to like this. He tore away from Annais; despite staring down Jason, he seemed anxious to catch her eyes. "But it's your call. Your decision to share or not. I can only tell you--"

"I don't feel that way anymore," Nico muttered, as if he was trying to prove a point to them, to himself. "I mean... I gave up on Percy. I was young and impressionable, and I--I don't..."

"But it would be okay," said Annais. "If your feelings hadn't changed just yet. You can't control how you feel or who has your affections, Nico. I really hope you know that."

Nico was quiet. She understood where he was coming from -- he was born in the 1940s where doing what he just did would've had him killed. But Annais was proud of him. She hurt, too, resenting Cupid in support of him, but her brother was brave. Always had been, always would be.

She just wished she could make the pain go away.

"Nico," Jason said gently. Annais knew he saw her brother in a different light now, but not one that was bad. He saw Nico as she did; a boy, a child like the rest of them. Someone who was breakable. "I've seen a lot of brave things. But what you just did? That was maybe the bravest."

Nothing more was said, but for now, it was enough.

Nico let Annais take his hand, the only weakness he was willing to reveal. All of a sudden, he seemed exhausted. Drained.

"Come on," she murmured, gesturing for Jason to join them. "How about I shadow-travel us back to the ship?"

Jason seemed uncertain, but he resigned himself to taking her other hand as Nico nodded eagerly. "Yeah," said Nico. "I've had enough of the winds."