Nico POV

Sounds slowly start to drift into my head, cutting through the darkness I was seeing. What happened? Where am I? Why does my shoulder hurt so much? Why am I asking myself annoying questions when I can open my eyes and figure it out? Good idea, Nico.

I open my eyes, groaning when the light feels like it's piercing my brain. My mind still feels murky, and I'm having trouble figuring out what is going on. I remember... the forest. Kronos's scythe hit me – that explains the shoulder pain – and I shadow travelled myself and Will away.

Oh, gods... Will. Is he okay? I try to sit up, but pain hits me again and warm hands push me back down.

"It's okay, Nico. Lay back." I inwardly sigh in relief. Thank the gods. Will's face slowly swims into focus. He looks okay. Tired, perhaps a bit shaky, but alive. Good. I look around the room we are in. A couple of beds, nightstands, window, door. Nothing special. Nothing that can tell me where we are.

My eyes then settle on a man behind Will, sitting on a bed. He is watching me closely, and I study him. I feel like I've met him before.

"Have I met you before?" I ask the man, getting straight to the point. The man looks startled.

"Not that I am aware of,  I certainly don't recognize you." Interesting. He has a British accent, and I swear I've talked to him before. I've never been to England though, so where have I met him? My mind still feels sluggish, and I can't remember where I've met him. Whatever. I turn my head to Will, who is looking at me with concern.

"Will, I'm fine," I say, rolling my eyes at his expression. He rolls his eyes as well but has a smile on his face.

"Only you would say you're fine right after you get skewered," Will says, and I smirk.

"I've had worse," I say simply, which is very true. I was stuck in a jar for multiple days with barely any oxygen or food. I had to go into a death trance to survive. I also went through Tartarus alone and had to drink fire to survive. Not fun. You get it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the man's eyes going back and forth between Will and me, looking ready to either fight us or help us. So indecisive. For his sake though, he should pick the latter. I ignore him for now. I need to figure out where we are, and I don't need a mortal getting in the way. Wait a minute though... is he mortal? Will might kill me for this, but I read the man's aura. Usually, I do it automatically, but when I'm weakened – like now – then it requires some effort. Not a lot, though.

Something is weird about his aura. He isn't a monster exactly. Not fully. But I've felt this before, and I wince at the memory. Lycaon, the werewolf. This man is a werewolf. I can sense something else as well. Something magical. He isn't mortal, that's for sure. It doesn't matter, though. He is a werewolf. He is dangerous, and I bet that stick he is holding turns into a weapon. Not that one of his kind needs one. One scratch when they are in wolf form and... I shiver and slowly reach for my sword that is hiding under a bunch of bloody t-shirts.

Will, realizing what I'm doing – or about to do – grabs my arm.

"What are you doing? You're injured, stop moving around." He says. I give him my best glare and reach for my sword again, but he takes it from the floor and holds it away from me.

"Will, give that to me," I say, getting worried. The werewolf has definitely seen the sword and is now standing up.

"Will, please, give it to me. We're in danger" I say desperately. I can't let the werewolf hurt us. It's my fault we are here. Wherever here is.

"No, we aren't, Nico. It's fine. Lupin helped us." I could tell that he isn't lying, but that doesn't help me feel better. Werewolves are deceitful and evil.

"Yes, we are Will. Give me my sword." I plead. Why doesn't he understand?

"Why do you think we're in danger?" Will asks. I'm getting frustrated. Every second we keep fighting is another second, we could be killed. The man – the werewolf – is still holding his stick in front of him in a defensive position.

"Will, just give it to me! Why don't you trust me?" I ask, and hurt creeps into my angry tone. Will looks nervous.

"Nico, your hurt. You may have hit your head. You aren't thinking straight. We are safe, ok? We're in London. His name is Remus Lupin, and he's been really nice. He isn't dangerous."

"Yes, he is, Will! He's a werewolf! Now, give me my sword!" I'm ready to explode. Will wasn't listening to me, and now the werewolf knows I know he's a monster.

Will is frozen on the spot, staring at me in shock. Great, a frozen boyfriend. Why must he always freeze when he is surprised? I struggle to my feet and grab the sword from Will's slack hand. He is most likely in shock. He was probably getting to know this "Lupin" and started to trust him, as he said before.

I would feel bad, but I don't have time. A frozen demigod means a dead demigod, and I need to eliminate the threat. I turn to the werewolf, and he points the stick at my face. I smirk.

"Listen, dude, you tricked Will. Nice job. But I have experience with your kind, and stygian iron does wonder for you." I say in my most menacing voice. I raise my sword up to his chin. "Now, before I send you to Tartarus, you will answer my questions, got it? And if you even think about calling your friends, I will run you through. And get that stick out of my face."

The werewolf looks from the sword at his chest to me, to the stick, and, to my surprise, he lowers his hand and nods. I did not expect him to be so cooperative, but I'm not complaining. I still feel very woozy, and my shoulder is throbbing. It doesn't help that I'm holding my sword up in that arm. I switch to my other hand.

"Sit." He sits and puts his arms in the air in surrender with wary glances at the sword pointed at him.

Will chooses that moment to unfreeze, and comes to stand at my side. His eyes flick occasionally to the door and the med box on the ground. I give him a reassuring look. The werewolf then starts to talk, to my utter annoyance.

"Please, Listen. It's true that I am a werewolf, but I mean you no harm. If we could just talk." He says. I snort, but I also feel a bit uneasy. He isn't lying.

"And why should I trust you at all?"

"I haven't killed you in all this time you have been here. I assisted your friend in healing you. By that, I mean I handed him a medicinal kit." He smiles tiredly. "I also have Dumbledore's complete trust."

Something suddenly clicks into place in my head. Remus Lupin, London, seemingly nice werewolf, Dumbledore.

"I have met you before!" I exclaim. I remember now. Lupin the werewolf-wizard. Why didn't I remember before?! I was at his trial. He went to Elysium for his bravery in war and just being an all-around great guy. I actually had a nice conversation with him. He told me about the wizarding world – which seems pretty cool, other than some Voldy guy, but I pushed that sack of evil (Voldy) into Tartarus myself.

But this isn't Elysium. Or the underworld. We are in London, apparently. So why is this guy alive? It's been like twenty or thirty years since he died or something. And no one, and I mean no-one (with the exception of me and Percy and Annabeth and Grover and Percy's mom) can get out of the underworld alive. Not even wizards.

I turn to Will. Lupin isn't a threat, and I put my sword back on my waist.

"Will, remember I told you about the man who told me about the wizarding world?" I ask Will through shadow talk. Will glares at me for using my powers, then nods, and I motion to Lupin with my eyes. Will's eyes widen.

"Isn't he supposed to be..."

"Dead? Yes. My father will not be happy that someone escaped." Will's eyes narrow and look around the room critically.

"Maybe he didn't."

"What do you mean?" I look at Will questioningly, but before he can answer, Lupin interrupts, and I pull back my shadow.

"Am I missing something here?" Lupin asks. Will turns to him grimly.

"What year is it?" Will asks. 

Oh, gods. That makes too much sense. Kronos's scythe. As in Kronos, the Titan of time. His scythe. That hit me. And then I shadow travelled.

"1995." He answers. Will sits heavily on the bed, and I join him. I shadow travelled Will and me back in time. We are in the 1990s. I run a hand down my face.

"Di immortales," I swear under my breath. Then I slump against Will in exhaustion and fall asleep. And of course, the dreams come with the full force of Hypnos.