Images flashed through his mind. He saw Nico and his sister on a snowy mountain cliff in Maine, Percy Jackson protecting them from the manticore. Percy's sword gleamed in the dark. He'd been the first demigod Nico had ever seen in action. Later at Camp Half-Blood, Percy took Nico by the arm, promising to keep his sister Bianca safe. Nico believed him. Nico looked into his sea-green eyes and though, How can he possibly fail? This is a real hero.

Nico wasn't sure whether to kick himself or Will Solace. If he hadn’t been so distracted bickering with the son of Apollo, he would never have allowed the enemy to get so close.

Don't talk to my sister that way.' Nico said. His voice quivered, but I was impressed that he had the guts to say anything at all. — Percy.

He looked at the silver pocketknife in his hand. An idea came to him – possibly the stupidest, craziest idea he’d had since he thought, Hey, I’ll get Percy to swim in the River Styx! He’ll love me for that!

About five meters ahead, Nico was swinging his black sword with one hand, holding the scepter of Diocletian aloft with the other. He kept shouting orders at the legionnaires, but they paid him no atte.

She’d felt more pain from Nico in their brief connection than she had from her entire legion during the battle against the giant Polybotes.

Nothing?' Favonius cried. 'The one you care for most... Plunged into Tartarus, and you still will not allow the truth?'Suddenly Jason felt like he was eavedrop.

Please!’ That word didn’t make sense to Nico. The Underworld had no mercy. It only had justice. ‘You’re already dead,’ Nico said. ‘You’re a ghost with no tongue, no memory. You won’t be sharing any secrets.

Nico drank from the chalice, then offered it to Jason. 'You asked me about trust, and taking a risk? Well, here you go, son of Jupiter. How much do you trust me?'Frank wasn't sure what Nico was talking about, but Jason didn't hesitate. He took the cup and drank.

The two of them looked so comfortable together it made Nico glad. But it also it caused an ache in his heart – a ghostly pain, like an old war wound throbbing in bad weather.