Will took a step back, almost tripping over Defiance. “Uh, you mean other minotaurs? I thought you were unique.”
Asterion twitched his large fuzzy ears, which Nico took as a sign of annoyance.
“I mean denizens of Tartarus in general,” said the Minotaur. “Surely some have spoken to you?”
“Oh…yes,” Will admitted. “It’s just that…well, no one ever mentioned thatyou, specifically, could talk.”
“I’m pretty sure Percy told us that the most you did was moo and yell,” added Nico.
Too late, he realized it might be a bad idea mentioning Percy to the Minotaur. Percy had killed the guytwice—once with an ax, and once with his own horn. Nico tensed, ready for a crash course in bullfighting. Instead, Asterion just nodded.
“Percy…as in Jackson.” His tone suggested grudging respect. “A formidable fighter. And you’re right. We did not do a lot of talking.” Asterion stroked his chin, which was a weird look for a bull. “I should like to make amends with Percy Jackson the next time we meet. I believe he is not far from this very spot at the moment. But he is not to be bothered.” Asterion lowered his voice as if sharing a dangerous secret. “Something about…grades.”
“Yes,” said Hazel. “Not bothering Percy would be ideal.”
Nico took this to meanAnnabeth will kill us if we interrupt them during their first semester at New Rome University.
He rubbed his temples. He still felt a bit hazy from the shadow-travel…and now this. “Lot to take in.”
“Yeah,” said Will. “We’ve seen many things, but the Mino—”
“Asterion.”The bull-man’s voice dropped to a dangerous rumble. “Names have power, little demigod. I would greatly appreciate it if you used mine instead of referring to me by the epithet I was assigned.”
Nico trembled. He didn’t often feel afraid, but up close, Asterion was intimidating—a mountain of muscle and fur in a blue bath towel.
“Sorry,” Will said. “Won’t happen again.”
The corner of Asterion’s mouth twitched…. Was that asmile? “Thank you. I know you must be confused. My story…well, sometimes, evenIcannot believe it.”
“So you’re here…why?” Will frowned at Hazel. “You’re not, like, holding him hostage, are you?”
Hazel sniffed indignantly. “Will Solace, you know me better than that.”
Asterion chuckled. “I am no hostage, my friend.” He turned to Nico. “I am actually here because ofbothof you, son of Hades and son of Apollo.”
Nico couldn’t take it anymore. He wobbled and reached for Will. “I think I need to sit down.”
Will guided him to one of the bunk beds. Then he whipped out a Kit Kat bar from his backpack. “Eat this.”
Nico obliged. Meanwhile, Asterion somehow managed to drop to the floor and sit cross-legged opposite him. The Cocoa Puffs hopped around the bull-man, warily checking him out. They seemed to be having a contest to see which of them dared to get closest. Nico felt like his mind was going to fracture at any second. Here they were, just a few friends and demons, having a pleasant chat with a killer monster from Crete. He glanced at Hazel, silently begging her to make it make sense.
“He arrived here last week,” Hazel explained, sitting beside Asterion. “One of the guards spotted him making his way down the hillside waving his, uh, surrender flag.”
Asterion pinched the fabric of his kilt/towel thing, indicating that it had served as the flag in question. Nico desperately hoped the bull-man had been wearing something else underneath when he surrendered.
“I made it myself,” Asterion said proudly. “It is customary for mortals to wave a blue flag when surrendering, is it not?”
“Um…close enough,” Nico said. “But why come here? And what does it have to do with me?”
The bull-man rested his enormous hands on his knees. His fingernails were perfectly manicured, painted blue to match his kilt. “After Percy Jackson defeated me for the second time, my regeneration in Tartarus took over a year. By the time I was made whole again, everything in Tartarus seemed changed. The Doors of Death had closed, but there was still a sense that the boundary between our world and yours had weakened…perhaps permanently. I heard stories of demigods who had survived expeditions into Tartarus and returned to the upper world.”
He paused. “Imagine how that felt—to believe that Tartarus was our realm alone, that it would mean certain death to anyone else who dared enter. And then to discover that three different demigods had successfully escaped the lowest, most terrible reaches of the Underworld!”
“Fourdemigods,” Will corrected. “I’m the fourth.” He’d been nibbling on a brownie from his Bag of Infinite Snacks, but when Asterion turned to study him, he paused, suddenly looking self-conscious. “Sorry,” Will said. “Please continue.”
Asterion lowered his head. “I began to suspect that the old rules no longer applied…. I waited to see what I would be asked to do in this new regeneration, which god or spirit might call upon me to do their bidding. But I received no summons. I wandered Tartarus, waiting for a purpose.”
“A purpose?” Nico leaned forward. He still felt dizzy, but the Kit Kat bar was starting to make its way through his metabolism, shoring up his stamina through the magic of wafers and chocolate. “What do you mean?”
