the_blood_of_olympus_-_rick_riordan

Over at the altar, the fiery ghost rose. He approached, burning and screaming silently, his eyes
conveying some urgent message.
‘Ah,’ Hades said. ‘This is Brother Paloan. He’s one of hundreds who were burned alive in the
square near the old Roman temple. The Inquisition had its headquarters there, you know. At any rate,
he suggests you leave now. You have very little time before the wolves arrive.’
‘Wolves? You mean Orion’s pack?’
Hades flicked his hand. The ghost of Brother Paloan disappeared. ‘My son, what you are
attempting – shadow-travel across the world, carrying the statue of Athena – it may well destroy you.’
‘Thanks for the encouragement.’
Hades placed his hands briefly on Nico’s shoulders.
Nico didn’t like to be touched, but somehow this brief contact with his father felt reassuring – the
same way the Chapel of Bones was reassuring. Like death, his father’s presence was cold and often
callous, but it was real – brutally honest, inescapably dependable. Nico found a sort of freedom in
knowing that eventually, no matter what happened, he would end up at the foot of his father’s throne.
‘I will see you again,’ Hades promised. ‘I will prepare a room for you at the palace in case you do
not survive. Perhaps your chambers would look good decorated with the skulls of monks.’
‘Now I can’t tell if you’re joking.’
Hades’s eyes glittered as his form began to fade. ‘Then perhaps we are alike in some important
ways.’
The god vanished.
Suddenly the chapel felt oppressive – thousands of hollow eye sockets staring at Nico. We, the
bones that are here, await yours.
He hurried out of the church, hoping he remembered the way back to his friends.