The Winds Of Heaven (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)

4. Very Rare, Always Dangerous

As Y/N walked away toward the Big House with Jason, Ethan decided to check on Will and Leo, the Latino boy who'd been claimed almost instantly.

They were halfway across the green when he reached them. Leo stood there, frozen in his tracks, looking toward Hera's cabin.

"That old lady. . . ." Leo said. "What's she doing here?"

Ethan tried to follow his gaze. "What old lady?"

Leo jumped around. "Hey, man! Don't scare me like that! I almost had a heart attack."

"I think you've just had a long day, Leo," Will said. "The Mist could still be playing tricks on your mind. How about we head straight to your cabin, now? You come, Ethan?"

From the outside, the Hephaestus cabin looked like an oversize RV with shiny metal walls and metal-slatted windows. The entrance was like a bank vault door, circular and several feet thick. It opened with lots of brass gears turning and hydraulic pistons blowing smoke.

Leo whistled. "They got a steampunk theme going on, huh?"

Inside, the cabin seemed deserted. Steel bunks were folded against the walls like high-tech Murphy beds. Each had a digital control panel, blinking LED lights, glowing gems, and interlocking gears. Ethan knew each camper had their own combination lock to release his bed, and there was an alcove behind it with storage, sometimes traps to keep out unwanted visitors. A fire pole came down from the second floor, even though the cabin didn't appear to have a second floor from the outside. A circular staircase led down into some kind of basement. The walls were lined with every kind of power tool you could imagine, plus a huge assortment of knives, swords, and other implements of destruction. A large workbench overflowed with scrap metal—screws, bolts, washers, nails, rivets, and a million other machine parts.

Leo picked a long implement from the wall. "A weed whacker? What's the god of fire want with a weed whacker?"

A voice in the shadows said, "You'd be surprised."

At the back of the room, one of the bunk beds was occupied. A curtain of dark camouflage material retracted, and Ethan could see the guy who'd been invisible a second before. It was Jake Mason, the head counselor for the Hephaestus cabin since Charles Beckendorf's death, but he was unrecognizable—he was covered in a body cast. His head was wrapped in gauze except for his face, which was puffy and bruised. He looked like the Pillsbury Doughboy after a beatdown.

"I'm Jake Mason," he told Leo. "I'd shake your hand, but . . ." He cracked a smile, then winced as if it hurt to move his face.

"Welcome to cabin nine," Jake said. "Been almost a year since we had any new kids. I'm head counselor, for now."

"For now?" Leo asked.

Will cleared his throat. "So where is everybody, Jake?"

"Down at the forges," Jake said wistfully. "They're working on . . . you know, that problem."

"Oh."

Ethan changed the subject. "So, Jake, you got a spare bed for Leo?"

Jake studied Leo, sizing him up. "You believe in curses, Leo? Or ghosts?"

"Ghosts? Pfft. Nah. I'm cool. A storm spirit chucked me down the Grand Canyon this morning, but you know, all in a day's work, right?"

Jake nodded. "That's good. Because I'll give you the best bed in the cabin—Beckendorf's."

"Whoa, Jake," Ethan said. "You sure?"

Jake called out: "Bunk 1-A, please."

The whole cabin rumbled. A circular section of the floor spiraled open like a camera lens, and a full-size bed popped up. The bronze frame had a built-in game station at the footboard, a stereo system in the headboard, a glass-door refrigerator mounted into the base, and a whole bunch of control panels running down the side.