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It also hurt. The air hurt.
Will felt a new level of sympathy for young Harley back at Camp Half-Blood, who struggled with asthma. Will wondered if this was how he felt during a severe attack. The idea of standing up, much less hiking across this horrible landscape, was enough to bring Will to tears.
Nico stirred. Will thought he might be rousing, but instead he turned and settled again.
Will wondered how long he should let him sleep. He felt terribly exposed sitting next to a bright white boat in an otherwise-monotonous red-orange landscape. He wasn’t sure what to be on the lookout for, or where danger might come from next, but Nico needed rest.
So Will kept watch. And while Tartarus was deep beneath the land of the dead, he discovered it was full of life.
In the crimson clouds overhead, something with enormous wingsflapped by. A flock of smaller somethings chased after it, fluttering and screeching. In the distant hills, just at the edge of Will’s vision, shadows moved across the ridgelines, and Will couldn’t help thinking about the packs of slavering wolves Nico had described.
Every so often, the land itself grumbled like it had indigestion. Will wouldn’t have been surprised if that were the case, given the number of monsters it was constantly spitting out.
Somewhere in this nightmarish world, Bob needed their help.
Will shivered. He didn’t get how this place could be so hot and still make him feel so cold.
After a while, his legs started to fall asleep. As gently as possible, he moved Nico’s head off his thigh and onto his knapsack. Nico barely stirred.
Will stood up and stretched his legs until the pins and needles faded.
Exhaustion tugged at the edge of Will’s consciousness, but he had to stay awake, and he didn’t want to wait around doing nothing. He already felt terrible about how much Nico had been forced to look after him in the Underworld. Will wasn’t used to that.Hewas the caretaker and the healer. It was literally his job as a child of Apollo.
And yet all the powers that made up Will’s sense of self were so limited here. He couldn’t even healhimselfeffectively. It was only due to rest and Gorgyra’s kindness that his bleeding had stopped. Speaking of which, he should probably change the bandages, but …
He glanced down at Nico, snoring softly, and completely unsheltered.
Will had another idea. He walked over to the boat. He put his hands on the gunwale, then squatted and gave it an experimental tug. He didn’t want to strain himself – Nico would not appreciate itif Will reopened his wounds – but the hull was surprisingly light. It was good nymph workmanship, just like the canoes at camp.
Will went to work as quietly as he could. He collected rocks and bones – the plentiful building supplies of Tartarus – and made a low wall near where Nico was lying. The effort left him winded and sweaty, but it felt good to be doing something productive. Finally, he was able to turn over the boat, resting the starboard gunwale lengthwise against his wall, and – voilà! – he had constructed a crude shelter for Nico with an upside-down boat for a roof. It wasn’t much better than a lean-to, but if those clouds did decide to rain blood, acid, poison or some other vile liquid, at least they would have some cover.
Will was pleased with himself. He imagined Nico waking up and being amazed. Will could say,Welcome home, honey!
The idea was so ridiculous it made him feel giggly again, but also warm and satisfied. He tried to hold on to those sensations. Evenfeelingswere hard to come by here – unless they were something akin to despair or anger or fear.Thosecame easily. And how could they not? Will was in a place that seemed to spend every moment thinking up new ways to kill him.
Wasn’t that how Annabeth had described Tartarus? For a brief moment, Will wished she and Percy were with them, but then he discarded the thought. He wouldn’t wish this place on his worst enemy …
And, just like that, his despair came creeping back.
They had no idea where Bob might be.
Their only lead was to find the giant Damasen’s hut, but it wasn’t like there were signposts here in Tartarus for Menoetes’s suggested trail. No maps or travel guides. Will tried to imagine what a tourist brochure would look like.Come visit the geysers of suffering! Free tours of the acid-rain fields!
He didn’t know where to go. His boyfriend was out cold. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do aside from build houses out of rocks and boats. And on top of everything else … Oh, gods, he’d accused Nico of murder, hadn’t he? All his deepest grievances, and his guilt about Octavian’s death, had come pouring out when they navigated the Acheron.
When Nico woke up, Will would have to apologize. They’d have to talk it through.
They could get past it. They had bigger problems to deal with. But Will’s disappointment in himself was enough to trigger an emotional landslide.
The sheer absurdity of this quest hit him in full force. They never should have come here, at least not without more support. And if – abigif – they somehow managed to find Bob and rescue him, how were they supposed to climb backoutof Tartarus?
There were so many unknowns. They piled up like the bones Nico had summoned to break their fall. Will knewnothing. All he could do was wait for Nico to wake up and tell him what to do, then lug Will across Tartarus like an overstuffed duffle bag.
Heat rushed to his face. He’d been a huge burden on Nico since they’d entered the Door of Orpheus, and that wasn’t fair. This quest was already a terrible gamble for Nico. He shouldn’t have to take care of Will on top of everything else.
Will was a counsellor. A leader! He was supposed to take the initiative.
A thought nudged his mind, just a gentle push in a new direction. He gazed again at the closest hill, dotted with its orange blisters.
