I am ASHAMED of my old writing. I think I might go back and redo a few chapters... though I'm not sure if my writing's changed much at all. Has it?

You guys have been really supportive—thanks! This was my first fanfiction, I started it some time ago and finished the whole thing in a week... then lost it all except for, like, two chapters. And they sucked. Really bad.
I will never cram a story into a week ever again... It's not possible now, anyway. But nor will I stick everything onto a single, breakable memory drive.

***

Miri

He was frozen.

"Nico?" I reached for his hand. It was clammy, cold. I waited for his response.

Then he gasped, moving at last, eyes wide with disbelief, and spoke Camp Half-Blood's mentor-slash-activities counselor. "What? That's—that's not funny, Chiron. Don't do that to me."

"I'm not joking, Nico. He's gone."

Silence.

He swallowed. "Then I…I have to find him."

The half-horse man bowed his head solemnly. "And you will."

It was as if I was invisible.

"What about me?" I demanded, speaking up. "He's my father, too!"

Chiron stiffened and glanced at Nico, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. Nico nodded in response, and Chiron turned back to me.

"Of course you will go, Miri. I can't see why not."

I looked between them, my eyes narrowed. "What are you hiding?"

Nico looked agonized, and he grimaced, "Nothing."

I gritted my teeth and spat, "Then why don't you want me to come with you? Don't we have to rescue Dad? You've known him longer than I have, but that doesn't mean you're the only one he cares about!"

If I had been talking to anyone else, they would've snorted. Hades, caring?

"Miri…" He blinked at Chiron, who moved his shoulders up and down in a shrug. "Hades… isn't…"

"Isn't what?" I challenged, standing up. My fists were clenched at my sides. "Isn't good enough for saving? Isn't a good enough god?"

"He isn't your father."

I stumbled back, caught off guard. "What are you talking about? He claimed me. He gave me this!" I whipped my pen out, clicked it, and swung it dangerously. Nico flinched as the blade flew over his head.

"He was covering for someone."

"Covering? Covering?" I could feel my own voice rise hysterically. "Gods don't cover for people, last time I heard! And even so… the god of the underworld? How unlikely is that?"

"Very unlikely," said Chiron smoothly. "But still possible. After all, it was—"

He stopped abruptly, all the color drained from of his face. Nico made a choking noise and pointed over my head.

"We're dead."

Slowly, bracing myself, I turned my eyes up. The sky was an odd shade of black, the color of tar, with a mysterious streak of purple rolling across. Even on the starless, rainiest of nights, I had never seen the sky so dark.

"He told her!" Nico swore. "All that trouble that Dad went through—he ruined it all!"

"Who?" I shouted. "Who are you talking about? Who is he, and who is she?"

"Erebus," he spat. "God of darkness and shadow. Your dad."

I blanched.

"And it looks like he told Nyx—his wife—about you. You have to—you have to go!" Nico grabbed my arm and tugged, hard.

"Nico!" Chiron hissed urgently. I could barely make out his face; we were being swallowed in black-grey. "You must find your father! There's no time to hide Miri!"

"Then I'm going with him," I snarled. "I'll find Hades. What did Erebus ever do for me? How is he my—my father? I'd rather have Hades as a dad. Erebus"—I practically shouted this to the ground, hoping it would reach every corner and cranny of the underworld—"is a coward!"

The ground shook slightly. Hades could've caused the earth to rip apart to shreds, but Erebus had only made it tremble.

Coward.

In the pitch-black darkness, I felt Chiron push something into my arms—a backpack. Had he had it with him the entire time?

"Go! There's a—a prophecy in the bag!" He yelled, and a familiar hand clasped mine. Nico's.

We ran.

The darkness was unnerving. I didn't mind the creepy, light-less colors themselves, but the blindness was irritating as hell. Nico seemed pretty comfortable about it, but I kept tripping over tree roots and huge boulder-like rocks that seemed to pop out of nowhere.

"Dammit!" I cursed, after falling flat on my face for the umpteenth time. "How'd you get so used to this?" I dusted imaginary dirt off my knees.

"Practice. And living in the underworld."

"Ah. I see."

An awkward quietness came between us. I had the urge to say something, anything, just to break the strange silence. But talking would slow us down.

"Here," said Nico at last, and stopped. In this far area, the sky wasn't nearly as dark. I could see the shape of his face, I could see the color of my own shoes. "Right here. Open the bag. Find anything that feels like paper."

I fumbled with the zippered pockets of the backpack, until my fingers brushed against something small and square—a folded-up scrap of paper.

Nico snapped his fingers, and a tiny black-blue flame danced on the tip of his nails.

"It wouldn't do much back there," he grunted, noticing the weird expression on my face. "It's brighter here, the flame can actually work as a light."

I opened up the note, and he waved his hand over it as a make shift lamplight.

"What the hell?" I hissed. "This is in English. How are we supposed to…?"

Nico ignored my irritable comment and squinted, as if narrowing his eyes would cure his dyslexia. "Uh… verir… evrir.."

"River," I whispered, following his lead. "River of… of…"

"River of fire," read Nico, "L-l…"

"Lev…" I threw my arms up. "Ugh! Why can't this be in Greek?"

"Lover," Nico realized, ignoring me again. I didn't even know why I was so angry and annoyed in the first place. Was it because I just discovered I'd been lied to? Was it because my real father was such a wimp?

"River of fire, lover of Styx."

"Ruler lies in its waves," I said softly.

"Product of what enemy inflicts," said Nico.

"Hero will bring him to rise again." I finished.

We glanced at each other. I hadn't met the Oracle, Rachel, yet, but I had heard that she was really cool when not jerking into despair-filled premonition-mode.

"Phlegethon," He whispered. "Hades is in the Phlegethon river. It's parallel to the Styx, its lover."

I creased my brow. "… Lover?" Though I shouldn't have been surprised. Apparently, it's normal for things of nature to fall in love in Greek mythology.

"Yes. Styx loved Phlegethon, but was burned by its flames."

"Oh." I frowned. "So… Hades is in a river of fire? How could he be hurt, though? He sets things on fire all the time. He controls flames."

"This is a mythological river. Think of the Lethe, and how it makes everyone—mortal or immortal—forget so easily. Dad has no advantage with the Phlegethon.

I gave him a wide-eyed look. "So, that means that he could… he could…"

"Die. Fade." Nico's voice was blunt. "If he's in there too long."

I struggled for the right words. "But… if we're going to the underworld…" Would Erebus be there?

Nico misunderstood my trailed-off question. "Nyx lives elsewhere," he assured me. "The place where all matter comes from. She'll chase you, but she won't find you unless she wanders into the underworld—which I doubt will happen. She hates that place, even though all her children live there."

I sighed, dropping the subject. "Yeah. Okay."

He studied me. "Are you alright?"

I forced a smile. "I'm fine."

"You can… you can go back if you want to. The camp will protect you. Percy will do his big-shot hero act again."

I chuckled. "No. I'd rather stay with you."

Nico hesitated, before saying, "You know… we're not siblings anymore. We never really were."

I stared at his pale, thin face, illuminated by the glow of his mini-fire, and my breath hitched in my throat.

"I know," I whispered.

I shuffled forward, just a few inches, and his head tilted toward mine…

The fire on his fingertips went out.

"Crap."

I thought shadow travel was cool. It rustled my hair, slapped my cheeks with cold wind. It was a thrill, a rush of adrenaline. I loved it, and I kinda wished that I could do it myself.

"You can do other things," Nico said when I told him my thoughts. "… Erebus-y things."

I scowled. Gods, I hated that name.

There was still light in New York—the sun was shining, maybe not as bright as it should've been, but glowing yellow nonetheless.

"C'mon," said Nico, walking out of the shadow we'd popped out of. He let go of my arm, which he'd gripped tightly while transporting us to Manhattan. He led the way through Central Park, and I followed. When he stopped at a pile of small rocks and pebbles, I quirked up an eyebrow and smirked.

"Isn't this Orpheus's door? You know… the place where you betrayed Percy?" I had heard a lot of stories in my short time at Camp Half-Blood.

He flushed. "That was… that was a bad decision."

"Mmm-hmm."

He glared at me. "Shut up."

I grinned, reveling in his shamed embarrassment. "Whatever." I turned back to the entrance. "So, uh, how do we get in?"

"Music."

I blinked. "You're gonna sing?"

"No. You are."

I gawked at him, then shook my head wildly. "No way. You're kidding."

"Sing. Just sing, sing anything!"

I stared at him incredulously.

He nodded yes.

I swallowed. Stepped up. Racked my mind for a song.

Opened my mouth.

" 'When it started, we had high hopes. Now my back's on the line, my back's on the ropes. When it started, we were alright—but night makes a fool of us in daylight.' "

The rocks quivered and shook, then slowly moved out of the way. A hole formed.

Nico turned to me, with an expression of someone suffocating on their own laughter. "That was horrible."

My face heated up, and I punched him in the arm. "Thanks a lot. But it worked, see?"

He chuckled, and entered quickly. I did the same. "Yeah. Surprisingly enough."

Our footsteps echoed as we walked slowly down the never-ending stairs. It was pitch-black, and I couldn't see where I was going at all.

"So," Nico started again, apparently trying to make conversation. "What was that song called?"

"What?" I said, startled at his undisguised interest.

"The song you just sang. The one that cracked a bit at the end?"

I didn't even try wasting my energy to glare at him. He probably wouldn't see it, anyway, in the darkness.

"It's called 'Yes'," I muttered.

"By…?"

"By Coldplay."

He snorted. "That band is boring."

"You're boring."

"Great comeback."

"I know."

We walked on in silence, until we finally reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Keep walking," Nico instructed. "Wait till we reach the Styx."

At last, I heard the gushing noise of the river, gurgling out murky black water. Far ahead, there was a blurry dark pinpoint in the distance. Nico ran after the moving shape, following the side of the river, and I bounded after him. As we grew closer, I realized that the slow-moving figure was a person. In a ferry.

My blood ran cold. I'd heard about him.

"Hey!" Nico yelled. "Charon!"

The skeletal man turned around. "I don't stop during a trip, son of Hades." He gestured to the small group of dead people sitting in his boat, blinking curiously at Nico. "You're going to have to go to Los Angeles and wait for me there."

"Come on," Nico pleaded. "For me and a relative of yours."

Charon snorted. His ferry wasn't very fast, we barely had to jog to catch up with it. "All demigods are technically related to me. That doesn't work on—" He stopped in mid-sentence and stared right at me. Or, rather, he turned so that his empty eye sockets bore into my face. His jaw twisted and bent to form a creepy smile, and he gave a laugh that rattled his own bones and made the deceased passengers edge away from him.

"Sister," he grinned sadistically. "I thought I'd see you soon. Has Nyx gotten rid of daylight yet? I didn't know she loved Father that much. After all, she wasn't so committed herself… a couple of times. How do you think the hellhounds were born?"

I gaped at him. "You're…"

"A child of Erebus and Nyx," Nico said under his breath.

"Yep." Charon grinned again, and the ferry lurched to a stop. "Hop in. I'm as cheap as ever, but siblings go without payment." He shot a stern look when Nico avoided his gaze. He huffed loudly and handed him a tiny pile of drachmas before sliding in.

The ferry started to move again, and I smiled cheerfully at the dead man next to me. He wore a wrinkled, dusty brown suit and black leather shoes that seemed to have lost their shine.

"Hello. How did you die?"

He turned around, and I saw that half his face was missing—like Harvey Dent from the Batman movie, The Dark Knight. I recoiled, more stunned than disgusted.

"Something fell on me," he replied happily. "Not sure what, though."

"Oh."

He stopped talking immediately.

On the other side of me, Nico rolled his eyes. "That's what it's like conversing with the dead."

I frowned. "They're nice enough."

"I guess."

Charon rowed on.

"Hey," Nico said to him, after a while. "We're getting out here."

Charon gave us a look, so I sighed and handed him a couple more drachmas from the backpack. The ferry stopped at once, and Nico and I clambered out.

"There," he breathed, as the ferry slowly moved away from us. He pointed ahead. A blood-red river that seemed to stretch on forever greeted me with a pop as an acidic bubble floated up and burst.

"That… doesn't look like a river of fire," I gasped. "It looks like blood."

Nico leaned down, scooped up a handful of dark sand, and tossed the little grains into the body of 'water' at our feet. The river sloshed and burbled, then—

Burst into flames. The blazes reached high, licking the ceiling-ground above us. Dirt and ash rained down, and I quickly ducked my head. The fire raged on for another minute, until it started to slowly shrink at last, rapidly losing height, until it was just a bloody river of crimson once again.

The whole experience was absolutely terrifying.

I turned to Nico, feeling my face twist into a pained expression, and asked the single, unavoidable question that had been on my mind since we reached Central Park. I hadn't brought it up before. It hadn't been the right time. But this moment, so theatrical and dramatic, was perfect.

"How are we going to get Hades out of the river?"

***

The romance bus will arrive shortly. Maybe.

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