The Tyrant's Tomb

See this right here, kids?
This is how you don’t do it.
Questions? Class dismissed.
“HOW’S THE WOUND?” HAZEL asked.
I knew she meant well, but I was getting very tired of that question, and
even more tired of the wound.
We walked side by side out the main gates, heading for the Field of
Mars. Just ahead of us, Meg cartwheeled down the road, though how she did
this without regurgitating the four hot dogs she’d eaten, I had no idea.
“Oh, you know,” I said, in a terrible attempt to sound upbeat, “all things
considered, I’m okay.”
My old immortal self would have laughed at that. Okay? Are you joking?
Over the last few months, I had drastically scaled back my expectations.
At this point, okay meant still able to walk and breathe.
“I should have realized earlier,” Hazel said. “Your death aura is getting
stronger by the hour—”
“Can we not talk about my death aura?”
“Sorry, it’s just…I wish Nico were here. He might know how to fix you.”
I wouldn’t have minded seeing Hazel’s half brother. Nico di Angelo, son
of Hades, had been quite valuable when we fought Nero at Camp Half-
Blood. And of course his boyfriend, my son Will Solace, was an excellent
healer. Yet I suspected they wouldn’t be able to help me any more than
Pranjal had. If Will and Nico were here, they would just be two more people