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Johan hesitated, and then set the dodecahedron on the praetors’ desk. “But not right now. I believe I will go home and brew a pot of tea.” He glanced at Nico. “Did I set boundaries correctly?”

“Great job,” Nico said.

“Yay!” Johan clapped his hands and bounded out of the office.

Once he was gone, Nico let out a long sigh. “How is it we’re not even halfway through the day and I’m already exhausted?”

“Tell me about it,” his boyfriend said, leaning his head against Nico’s. “What did Hazel need you for earlier, anyway?”

Nico shared what had happened with Orcus on Highway 24, and how he’d left the griffin chatting away with Yazan and Deion.

“That’s progress!” said Will. “Wearemaking a difference.”

Nico remembered his conversation with Dionysus—how this wasn’t a quest, and there was no finish line.

“I hope so,” he said. “It’s hard to tell.”

“Oh, trust me.” Will smiled. “I’m usually right.”

“You’re so old and wise.”

“Okay, calm down.”

“Deeply, deeply old.”

“Aren’t we only a year apart?”

Nico didn’t know the answer to that, any more than he knew dodecahedrons from dinosaurs. Like Hazel, he’d been born in a different century. He hadn’t really aged for most of that time, but hehadbeen conscious and active. So was he a teen, a hundred-year-old fossil, or something in between?

All he knew was that Will was his peer in every way that mattered.

“Come on.” He planted a kiss on Will’s cheek. “Let’s see what other fires we can put out.”

As it turned out, the next fire was Arielle’s hair.

That afternoon, while Will continued to drill with the Fifth Cohort—which hetotallydidn’t complain about—Nico found himself back on the Field of Mars. Savannah had told him she wanted to give sparring with the empousa another try, and while Nico wasn’t sure this was a good idea, he admired Savannah’s determination.

It was just the three of them, standing on an expanse of packed dirt under a surprisingly hot winter sun. Sweat beaded on Nico’s forehead as he watched the two girls square off with their wooden practice swords.

Savannah had strapped a leather cuirass over her camp tee and leg guards over her jeans. Her long red hair fell loosely across her shoulders. She wore an expression of intense concentration, her green eyes and orange freckles all seeming to gather in the center of her face as she focused on a point just beyond the tip of her nose. She didn’t look like someone who’d recently had a full-blown panic attack, but Nico knew appearances could be deceiving.

As for Arielle, Nico was just glad she hadn’t fled camp yet. She’d reluctantly agreed to meet Savannah for another round of practice as long as Nico served as referee.

The empousa’s flaming hair guttered and flickered in the breeze. She wore a pink tank top and white wide-legged skater pants today, so you couldn’t tell she had mismatched legs until you looked at her feet—one bronze, and the other a donkey’s hoof. If she’d really spent last night sobbing, Nico couldn’t tell. Her eyes were red, but they were always red. Her frown conveyed worry and caution. Judging from her tense stance, she was taking this rematch seriously.

“Okay, you two,” Nico said. “We’re going to do this one step at a time. We’re just working on form for now. Savannah, don’t forget to breathe. Concentrate on Arielle’s blade and watch where she puts her feet.”

She nodded. “I can do that.”

“Perfect. Arielle, nothing fancy. Just strike, parry, strike, parry.”

“Yes,” the empousa said tightly.

Savannah brought her rudis up into a defensive position, planting her feet slightly apart.

“Starting slowly with Arielle,” Nico said. “Savannah, just block her swings. Don’t think too hard about it or worry about how you look, okay?”

She nodded. “Got it.”