the earth and open a new path into the Underworld. He sang his way right into

Hades's palace and almost got away with his wife's soul."

 

I remembered the story. Orpheus wasn't supposed to look behind him when he was

leading his wife back to the world, but of course he did. It was one of those

typical "and-so-they-died/the-end" stories that always made us feel warm and

fuzzy.

 

"So this is the Door of Orpheus." I tried to be impressed, but it still looked

like a pile of rocks to me. "How does it open?"

 

"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.

 

"I have a better idea." I turned and called, "GROVER!"

 

We waited for a long time. Mrs. O'Leary curled up and took a nap. I could hear

the crickets in the woods and an owl hooting. Traffic hummed along Central Park

West. Horse hooves clopped down a nearby path, maybe a mounted police patrol. I