“Child of Hades, what more could I do to you? You are perfect! So much sorrow and pain!’ Nico gasped. His eyes flew open.”

“The coach could do a goat-hoof tap dance around Nico’s head and the son of Hades wouldn’t even budge.”

“Getting some redecorating ideas?’ Nico asked. ‘Maybe you could do your dining room in mediaeval monk skulls.’
Hades arched an eyebrow. ‘I can never tell when you’re joking.”

“I am Nico Di Angelo, son of Hades. I control the shadows. They do not control me.”

“We need music," Nico said. "How's your singing?"
"Um, no. Can't you just, like, tell it to open? You're the son of Hades and all."
"It's not so easy. We need music."
I was pretty sure if I tried to sing, all I would cause was an avalanche.”

“My eyes flew open, and I pushed back against rock-hard shoulders. I let out a little squeak of horror.

"It's me," said a familiar voice.

…"Eric, what are you doing here?"

"Snuggling.”

“Percy scowled. "I-I know you."
Nico raised his eyebrows. "Do you?”

“She'd expected some backlash; it happened every time she shared her strength. But she hadn't anticipated so much raw anguish from Nico di Angelo… If this was only a portion of Nico’s pain… how could he bear it?”

“There was no warning, not even a knock. The door flew open, and he forgot his present aches and pains in anticipation of what lay in store. The figure that stood in the door was not that of an enemy. It was worse. It was his mother.”

“Then, his struggles stopped. His eyes stared at me, stunned, and his lips parted, almost into a smile, albeit a grisly and pained one.
"That’s what I was supposed to say…" he gasped out.
Those were his last words.”