THE HEALER| Heroes of Olympus

VIII

Before Jason could register that the voice had come from somewhere else, he sliced off the emperor's head. The bust toppled and shattered against the floor.

"That wasn't very nice," said the voice behind them.

I turned. The winged man from the ice-cream stand was leaning against a nearby column,casually tossing a small bronze hoop in the air. At his feet sat a wicker picnic basket full of fruit.

"I mean," the man said, "what did Diocletian ever do to you?"

The air swirled around Jason's feet. The shards of marble gathered into a miniature tornado, spiraled back to the pedestal and reassembled into a complete bust, the note still tucked underneath.

"Uh –" Jason lowered his sword. "It was an accident. You startled me."

He had more than startled me. I jumped nearly a foot back and had almost screamed. Which wouldn't have made me look very brave. But you can't blame me for being jumpy, the dark was terrifying...especially when a creepy winged dude suddenly appears.

The winged dude chuckled. "Jason Grace, the West Wind has been called many things ... warm,gentle, life-giving and devilishly handsome. But I have never been called startling. I leave that crass behavior to my gusty brethren in the north."

Nico inched backwards. "The West Wind? You mean you're –"

"Favonius," Jason realized. "God of the West Wind."

Favonius smiled and bowed, obviously pleased to be recognized. "You can call me by my Roman name, certainly, or Zephyros, if you're Greek. I'm not hung up about it."

Nico looked pretty hung up about it. "Why aren't your Greek and Roman sides in conflict, like theother gods?"

"Oh, I have the occasional headache." Zephyros shrugged. 'Some mornings I'll wake up in a Greek chiton when I'm sure I went to sleep in my SPQR pyjamas. But mostly the war doesn't bother me. I'm a minor god, you know – never really been much in the limelight. The to-and-fro battles among you demigods don't affect me as greatly."

"So ..." I wasn't quite sure whether to drop my bow. "What are you doing here?"

"Several things!" Zephyros said. "Hanging out with my basket of fruit. I always carry a basket of fruit. Would you like a pear?"

"I'm good. Thanks."

"Let's see ... earlier I was eating ice cream. Right now I'm tossing this quoit ring." Zephyros spun the bronze hoop on his index finger.

I had no idea what a quoit was, but I tried to stay focused. "I mean why did you appear to us?Why did you lead us to this cellar?"

"Oh!" Zephyros nodded. "The sarcophagus of Diocletian. Yes. This was its final resting place. The Christians moved it out of the mausoleum. Then some barbarians destroyed the coffin. I just wanted to show you –" he spread his hands sadly – "that what you're looking for isn't here. My master has taken it."

"Your master?" Jason seemed to have a flashback to when he visited the studio of a crazy weatherman who claimed he was the god of all the winds. "Please tell me your master isn't Aeolus."

"That airhead?" Zephyros snorted. "No, of course not."

"He means Eros." Nico's voice turned edgy. "Cupid, in Latin."

Eros the god of carnival love. He was said to be the son of Aphrodite and Ares. The stories said he used to shoot arrows at people to make them fall in love. He even shot one at my father once.

Zephyros smiled. "Very good, Nico di Angelo. I'm glad to see you again, by the way. It's been along time."

Nico knitted his eyebrows. "I've never met you."