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xv<br />
Nico<br />
‘WOLVES?’ REYNA ASKED.<br />
They were eating dinner from <strong>the</strong> nearby pavement café.<br />
Despite Hades’s warning to hurry back, Nico had found nothing much changed at <strong>the</strong> camp. Reyna<br />
had just awoken. The A<strong>the</strong>na Par<strong>the</strong>nos still lay sideways across <strong>the</strong> top <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple. Coach Hedge<br />
was entertaining a few locals with tap dancing and martial arts, occasionally singing into his<br />
megaphone, though nobody seemed to understand what he was saying.<br />
Nico wished <strong>the</strong> coach hadn’t brought <strong>the</strong> megaphone. Not only was it loud and obnoxious but also,<br />
for no reason Nico understood, it occasionally blurted out random Darth Vader lines from Star Wars<br />
or yelled, ‘THE COW GOES MOO!’<br />
As <strong>the</strong> three <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m sat on <strong>the</strong> lawn to eat, Reyna seemed alert and rested. She and Coach Hedge<br />
listened as Nico described his dreams, <strong>the</strong>n his meeting with Hades at <strong>the</strong> Chapel <strong>of</strong> Bones. Nico held<br />
back a few personal details from his talk with his fa<strong>the</strong>r, though he sensed that Reyna knew plenty<br />
about wrestling with one’s feelings.<br />
When he mentioned Orion and <strong>the</strong> wolves that were supposedly on <strong>the</strong>ir way, Reyna frowned.<br />
‘Most wolves are friendly to Romans,’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard stories about Orion hunting with<br />
a pack.’<br />
Nico finished his ham sandwich. He eyed <strong>the</strong> plate <strong>of</strong> pastries and was surprised to find he still<br />
had an appetite. ‘It could have been a figure <strong>of</strong> speech: very little time before <strong>the</strong> wolves arrive.<br />
Perhaps Hades didn’t literally mean wolves. At any rate, we should leave as soon as it’s dark enough<br />
for shadows.’<br />
Coach Hedge stuffed an issue <strong>of</strong> Guns & Ammo into his bag. ‘Only problem: <strong>the</strong> A<strong>the</strong>na Par<strong>the</strong>nos<br />
is still thirty feet in <strong>the</strong> air. Gonna be fun hauling you guys and your gear to <strong>the</strong> top <strong>of</strong> that temple.’<br />
Nico tried a pastry. The lady at <strong>the</strong> café had called <strong>the</strong>m farturas. They looked like spiral<br />
doughnuts and tasted great – just <strong>the</strong> right combination <strong>of</strong> crispy, sugary and buttery – but when Nico<br />
first heard fartura he knew Percy would have made a joke out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> name.<br />
America has dough-nuts, Percy would have said. Portugal has fart-nuts.<br />
The older Nico got, <strong>the</strong> more juvenile Percy seemed to him, though Percy was three years older.<br />
Nico found his sense <strong>of</strong> humour equal parts endearing and annoying. He decided to concentrate on <strong>the</strong><br />
annoying.<br />
Then <strong>the</strong>re were <strong>the</strong> times Percy was deadly serious: looking up at Nico from that chasm in Rome –<br />
The o<strong>the</strong>r side, Nico! Lead <strong>the</strong>m <strong>the</strong>re. Promise me!<br />
And Nico had promised. It didn’t seem to matter how much he resented Percy Jackson; Nico would