By Amanda Pizzolatto (alias Aurora Mandeville)

Word Count: 31845

Rating: PG for scary situations

Summary: Nico Di Angelo, son of Hades, is used to being alone, until one day a girl with auburn hair waltzes into his life…

“So, aren’t we going to go scout out the place?”

“That eager to go, huh, Nic?”
“Not really, I just want to get it over with.”

Riccio snickered, “Whatever you say, Death Lord, but we aren’t going till later.”

Nico growled, “The Death Lord is my father.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll call you Shadow Lord instead, happy?”

Nico rolled his eyes, sighing. “Since you have to have a nickname for me, why don’t you call me what everyone else calls me—the Ghost King, alright?”

“Ooooh, Ghost King, so regal.”
“Good grief, Riccio, enough already; you don’t have to have a nickname for everybody.”

“Oh, yes I do; how else can I sing ‘Ghost King and Valiant Queen sitting in a tree . . .’”

“Hey!”

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

“Riccio! I’m going to get you for that!”

Riccio took off laughing around the seats, Nico not far behind, keeping far from where Mosca sat working, with Bo watching.

“What are you doing?” Bo asked Mosca.

“I’m making a film; should be done soon.”

Then the bell rang, and they could hear banging on the door. Everyone froze; they weren’t expecting Scipio back, and no one else but him knew where they were.

“I’ll see who it is. Stay here, Bo,” Prop stated, heading off towards the door, flanked by Nico and Mosca. “Scipio?”

“Who else did you think it was?” he replied, dashing into the theater.

“But you said you were going away!”

”Lock the door, quick!”

“Well, look at you!” smiled Hornet, noticing his good clothes.

“There isn’t time to explain; gather whatever you need, we’ve got to get out of here. The snoop found out.”

“What?”

“Nico, can you shadow-travel us all out?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“No!” Everyone paused to look at Hornet. “We’re staying right here.”

“You have a plan?”

She smiled. “Of course I do, follow me.” Hornet quickly explained her plan and everyone got into position, and not a moment too soon, for a few minutes later they could hear someone coming in through the front door and fumbling with the excess material left there. They waited a little while before letting Bo peek out through the curtains.

“Hello, Victor.”

“Hello, Bo. What are you doing here all by yourself?”

“I’m not alone, I have my brother and our friends.”

“Really? Where are they?”

“Do you have a gun?”

“Of course I do.”

Nico could see Prop’s eyes widen.

“I bet it’s fake,” Bo said.

The others waited breathlessly for Victor’s response, but they only heard him clear his throat. Scipio grinned; Bo must have called him out. Then Bo came back through the stage.

“Wait!” Victor followed him through, and Scipio gave the order.

“Now!”

The struggle was over in a few seconds, as they were able to wrap him up in a net.

“Why, you scoundrels! Let me out! And as for you, you little . . . mmph!”

Scipio had stuffed a rag in the detective’s mouth, and now he said, “That’ll teach you to cross swords with the Thief Lord.”

The kids chuckled.

“Let’s throw him in the canal,” suggested Riccio.

“No, that’s too barbaric,” Scipio said. “Let’s keep him here for a while. It will show him that we’re capable of taking care of ourselves.”

“Very well, your majesty. Let’s put him in the cleaning closet.”

Prop, Mosca, Riccio, and Nico helped Scipio put the detective in the closet. Once they were sure that there was no way out for him, Scipio turned to the group and said, “Alright, remember, Wednesday at ten o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“We won’t, see you then!”

Scipio walked out, elated to have avoided a major problem, but that didn’t stop Nico from thinking about the strangeness of it all.

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