Renegade

Emily's POV

That night, we didn’t go to bed all happy and as a couple. Griff and I went to bed with a dagger under our pillows. Literally. We had thought that if Nico was the shooter, there would be two options.

One, he would continue to set up his rifle and tripod tonight, thinking that we didn’t know enough about the situation in the Attic to suspect him. Two, he would not continue to set up tonight, meaning that he was waiting for his cover to become safe again.

Either way, Griff and I decided to take turns on the watch. One of us would stay awake, lying as still as possible, listening for any noises in the Attic, while the other slept. I took first watch, which Griff seemed happy about.

In the room where we had set up the beds, there were no windows, and the door was almost closed, letting in almost zero light, but that didn’t bother me. I had been trained to work in little to zero visibility conditions. So, I closed my eyes tight, and focused on my ears. It felt like an eternity, but when I opened my eyes and checked my watch again, two and a half hours had passed. It was well past two in the morning, and Griff would have to take over at four.

In the harsh turquoise glow of my watch, Griff’s peaceful body moved at an almost rhythmic pace, up and down with his breathing. I thought about this morning, when Griff had kissed me again. Gods, it had felt wonderful, but it had also felt a bit fast. I felt somewhat awkward and vulnerable around him, something I had no intention of feeling. It both surprised and scared me, and I had no idea how to feel about that.

By the time my watch reached three, I had almost given up hope. That’s when I heard it. A single creak of wood, straining against the weight on top of it, four floors above my head.

“Griff!” I hissed quietly, and he was instantly awake. I hated to disturb the rhythm of his breathing, but this was important.

He grabbed a gun from under his pillow, the silencer already attached. I grabbed my dagger and we sprinted, as quietly as we could, up the stairs, slowing down just before the Attic door. But it was closed, still locked from this evening. How had someone locked the door from the outside and still gotten into the room?

But that wasn’t important for now. I picked the lock as quietly as I could, and we crouched, moving into the room in total silence. I could feel the breath of Griff on my neck behind me, and I tried to calm myself down. Was someone actually in here, or was I hallucinating, wishing for something to happen out of boredom?

Just when I was a bout to give up, a voice cursed softly from the shadows, saying,

“Styx! Ugh, those stupid kids! ”

I realized in horror that I recognized that voice. It was the voice of Nico di Angelo. Even though every molecule of my body told me to get out of there, I motioned Griff to hide behind some boxes. From our hiding spot, we could barely see Nico, illuminated in the moonlight coming through the window.

Griff looked at me with his eyebrows raised, a mixture of surprise, disbelief, confusion, and anger. I knew what he was thinking. Why would Nico want to shoot Percy? Even though I knew this from Jason, Nico once had a crush on the guy, and they had solved their differences later in life. Why go crazy now?

Then, Griff tapped my shoulder and motioned for me to look at Nico. He was now on all fours, feeling the ground with his eyes closed, looking for the three impressions. When he found them, he traced them with his fingers, and cursed again. Then, he stood up, looked around, and, after apparently not finding us, walked straight into a shadow on the wall, disappearing altogether.

“So that’s how he got in without anybody noticing!” I whispered, but Griff just put his finger to his lips. We walked back down in silence and decided to get some actual sleep, even though we were completely wired awake.

_______________________________________________________________________________

The next morning, Nico di Angelo strolled out of Cabin 13 looking like a complete mess. His plain grey pajamas were still on, and he was wearing a black t-shirt that was covered in dust, evidence of him crawling around in the Attic last night. He brushed off the dust when he saw us looking at him, and scowled at Griff and I, which completely terrified me.

“He doesn’t look very happy, does he?” Griff asked sarcastically, and I scoffed in approval.

“He looks like a young, thin Alan Rickman,” I remarked, and Griff asked,

“Who?”

“Professor Snape?”

“Ohhhhh,” Griff responded, “wait, yeah, he kind of does, doesn’t he?”

I laughed, and we continued our breakfast, although we still were keeping an eye on him.

By now, I was used to Nico di Angelo not talking to anyone at meals. But this time, it was different. It was if he was actively avoiding eye contact with anyone, staring directly at his food while he slowly ate, and not even acknowledging the other people at his table.

“Let’s go talk to him,” I suggested into the air in front of me, still staring at Nico.

“Em, you know that’s a bad idea right? Right?” Griff responded, looking incredulous, “He’ll get suspicious!”

“C’mon,” I said with a little more force, “let’s go.”

With a lot of groaning that I pretended not to hear, Griff joined me as we walked over to the table Nico was sitting at.

“Hey, Nico!” I said, mustering up all the enthusiasm I could.

“People aren’t supposed to be switching tables,” he grunted.

“People aren’t supposed to be in the Attic,” I responded, and both Griff and Nico tensed. This was a gamble I was taking. If Nico was the shooter, he would know his cover was blown, and would show it. If he wasn’t the shooter, he would be curious.

As if on cue, Nico asked, “You saw me in the Attic? Like I’d go up there, I’d have nothing to do!”

“Really?” I asked, “I mean, my dad told me you kind of a loner when you were young, but a loner still? Resorting to hanging out in the Attic? C’mon Nico, we all know that you weren’t going up to the Attic to spy on us or to hang out by yourself.

That’s when he gave his tell. His shoulder muscles didn’t tense, his forehead didn’t develop a wrinkle, he didn’t start sweating. But his eyes, they started darting around like a cornered animal’s.

“You guys see…the sniper?” Nico said in a barely audible voice.

“No way, Em!” Griff whispered, sitting down and motioning for me to sit down, “it actually worked!”

We don’t know that, yet, I thought, he could still be the shooter.

“We haven’t seen him,” I said, “But we have found—”

“Signs that he’s been there?” Nico finished, “tripod holes, pointing to two very specific cabins?”

“Yeah,” I said in a quiet voice. Even though we had just cleared his name, there was still something eerily weird about the son of Hades. He had this freaky, dark aura that gave me the chills. My dad had told me about that, too.

But by now, Chiron had come out to breakfast, and he grunted very loudly when he saw us three sitting together. He didn’t want to punish us, but he did have to enforce the rules. No switching tables.

So, Griff and I went back to our respective tables, back on the hunt for the sniper.

Notes

Enjoy this one, because I won't be able to write for a week! :(
--Grafon