Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Demigod Files

We actually did it.”
    “We did?” Iapetus asked. “Did I help?”
    I managed a weak smile. “Yeah, Bob. You did great.”
    We got an express ride back to the palace of Hades. Nico sent word ahead, thanks to some ghost he’d summoned out of the ground, and within a few minutes the Three Furies themselves arrived to ferry us back. They weren’t thrilled about lugging Bob the Titan too, but I didn’t have the heart to leave him behind, especially after he noticed my shoulder wound, said, “Owie,” and healed it with a touch.
    Anyway, by the time we arrived in the throne room of Hades, I was feeling great. The lord of the dead sat on his throne of bones, glowering at us and stroking his black beard like he was contemplating the best way to torture us. Persephone sat next to him, not saying a word, as Nico explained about our adventure.
    Before we gave back the sword, I insisted that Hades take an oath not to use it against the gods. His eyes flared like he wanted to incinerate me, but finally he made the promise through clenched teeth.
    Nico laid the sword at his father’s feet and bowed, waiting for a reaction.
    Hades looked at his wife. “You defied my direct orders.”
    I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but Persephone didn’t react, even under his withering gaze.
    Hades turned back to Nico. His gaze softened just a little, like rock soft rather than steel . “You will speak of this to no one.”
    “Yes, lord,” Nico agreed.
    The god glared at me. “And if your friends do not hold their tongues, I will cut them out.”
    “You’re welcome,” I said.
    Hades stared at the sword. His eyes were full of anger and something else—something like hunger. He snapped his fingers. The Furies fluttered down from the top of his throne.
    “Return the blade to the forges,” he told them. “Stay with the smiths until it is finished, and then return it to me.”
    The Furies swirled into the air with the weapon, and I wondered how soon I would be regretting this day. There were ways around oaths, and I imagined Hades would be looking for one.
    “You are wise, my lord,” Persephone said.
    “If I were wise,” he growled, “I would lock you in your chambers. If you ever disobey me again—”
    He let the threat hang in the air. Then he snapped his fingers and vanished into darkness.
    Persephone looked even paler than usual. She took a moment to smooth her dress, then turned toward us. “You have done well, demigods.” She waved her hand and three red roses appeared at our feet. “Crush these, and they will return you to the world of the living. You have my lord’s thanks.”
    “I could tell,” Thalia muttered.
    “Making the sword was your idea,” I realized. “That’s why Hades wasn’t there when you gave us the mission. Hades didn’t know the sword was missing. He didn’t even know it existed.”
    “Nonsense,” the goddess said.
    Nico clenched his fists. “Percy’s right. You wanted Hades to make a sword. He told you no. He knew it was too dangerous. The other gods would never trust him. It would undo the balance of power.”
    “Then it got stolen,” Thalia said. “ You shut down the Underworld, not Hades. You couldn’t tell him what had happened. And you needed us to get the sword back before Hades found out. You used us.”
    Persephone moistened her lips. “The important thing is that Hades has now accepted the sword. He will have it finished, and my husband will become as powerful as Zeus or Poseidon. Our realm will be protected against Kronos . . . or any others who try to threaten us.”
    “And we’re responsible,” I said miserably.
    “You’ve been very helpful,” Persephone agreed. “Perhaps a reward for your silence—”
    “Get lost,” I said, “before I carry you down to the Lethe and throw you in. Bob will help me. Won’t you, Bob?”
    “Bob will help you!” Iapetus agreed cheerfully.
    Persephone’s eyes widened, and she disappeared in a shower of daisies.
    Nico, Thalia, and I said our good-byes on a balcony overlooking Asphodel. Bob the Titan sat inside, building a toy house out of bones and laughing every time it collapsed.
    “I’ll watch him,” Nico said. “He’s harmless now. Maybe . . . I don’t know. Maybe we can retrain him to do something good.”
    “Are you sure you want to stay here?” I asked.
    “Persephone will make your life miserable.” “I have to,” he insisted. “I have to get close to my dad.
    He needs a better adviser.” I