The Lost Hero

Chapter 22

Vivian's skin tingled. She hated being a demigod. Looking around, she didn't see a comfortable room to hang out in. She imagined vicious storm spirits lurking in the curtains, dragons under the carpet, a chandelier made of lethal ice shards, ready to impale them.

"Leo's right," he said. "We're not separating again—not like in Detroit."

"Really Jason? Really? You sure know how to comfort people," Vivian said sarcastically.

"Oh, thank you for reminding me of the Cyclopes." Piper's voice quavered. "I needed that."

"It's a few hours until dawn," Vivian guessed. "Too cold to wait outside. Let's bring the cages in and make camp in this room. Wait for daylight; then we can decide what to do."

Nobody offered a better idea, so they rolled in the cages with Coach Hedge and the storm spirits, then settled in. Thankfully, Leo and Vivian didn't find any poison throw pillows or electric whoopee cushions on the sofas.

Leo didn't seem in the mood to make more tacos. Besides, they had no fire, so they settled for cold rations.

As Vivian ate, she studied the metal statues along the walls. They looked like Greek gods or heroes. Maybe that was a good sign. Or maybe they were used for target practice. On the coffee table sat a tea service and a stack of glossy brochures, but Vivian couldn't make out the words. The big chair at the other end of the table looked like a throne. None of them tried to sit in it. Vivian finished eating and went to help Leo with the cages.

The canary cages didn't make the place any less creepy. The storm spirits kept churning in their prison, hissing and spinning, and Vivian got the uncomfortable feeling they were watching not her, but Jason. She could sense their hatred for the children of Zeus—the lord of the sky who'd ordered Aeolus to imprison their kind. The storm spirits would like nothing better than to tear Jason apart.

As for Coach Hedge, he was still frozen mid-shout, his cudgel raised. Leo and Vivian were working on the cage, trying to open it with various tools, but the lock seemed to be giving them a hard time. Jason decided not to sit next to Leo or Vivian in case Hedge suddenly unfroze and went into ninja goat mode.

Despite how wired Jason felt, once his stomach was full, Jason started to nod off. The couches were a little too comfortable —a lot better than a dragon's back—and he'd taken the last two watches while his friends slept. He was exhausted.

Piper had already curled up on the other sofa. Vivian wondered if she was really asleep or dodging a conversation about her dad. Whatever Medea had meant in Chicago, about Piper getting her dad back if she cooperated—it didn't sound good. If Piper had risked her own dad to save them, that made Vivian feel even guiltier.

And they were running out of time. If Vivian had her days straight, this was early morning of December 20. Which meant tomorrow was the winter solstice.

"Get some sleep," Leo said, still working on the locked cage. "It's your turn."

"We slept the last few times. Get some sleep Latin boy," Vivian tried to joke.

Jason took a deep breath. "Leo, I'm sorry about that stuff I said in Chicago. That wasn't me. You're not annoying and you do take stuff seriously—especially your work. I wish I could do half the things you can do."

Vivian facepalmed.

Leo lowered his screwdriver. He looked at the ceiling and shook his head like, What am I gonna do with this guy?

"I try very hard to be annoying," Leo said. "Don't insult my ability to annoy. And how am I supposed to resent you if you go apologizing? I'm a lowly mechanic. You're like the prince of the sky, son of the Lord of the Universe. I'm supposed to resent you."