Daughter of Pluto | Wattys2017

XXVI

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

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

"It's a few hours until dawn," Jason 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 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 everyone ate, Aimee 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 Aimee 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.

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

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

Aimee saw that 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. She knew he was exhausted.

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

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

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

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."

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."

"Lord of the Universe?"

"Sure, you're all—bam! Lightning man. And 'Watch me fly. I am the eagle that soars—'"

"Shut up, Valdez."

Leo managed a little smile. "Yeah, see. I do annoy you."

"I apologize for apologizing."

"Thank you." He went back to work, but the tension had eased between them. Leo still looked sad and exhausted—just not quite so angry.

"Go to sleep, Jason," he ordered. "It's gonna take a few hours to get this goat man free. Then I still got to figure out how to make the winds a smaller holding cell, 'cause I am not lugging that canary cage to California."

"You did fix Festus, you know," Jason said. "You gave him a purpose again. I think this quest was the high point of his life."

Jason was afraid he'd blown it and made Leo mad again, but Leo just sighed.

"I hope," he said. "Now, sleep, man. I want some time with a few less organic life forms."

Jason wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he didn't argue. He closed his eyes and had a long, blissfully dreamless sleep.Aimee got up from beside him and went over to sit by Leo.

"We will fix Festus,I promise,"Aimee said rubbing his back.

Leo sighed looking down at his hand."I hope so...I feel like I let him down."

Aimee laughed a bit."Festus knows that you tried,you promised him that everything can be reused. So you have to keep that promise."

Leo hugged her."Thanks Aimee.You're right,I have to keep my promise to him but that means we have to get through this quest alive first."

"We will."

Aimee yawn laying her head on Leo's shoulder.Leo ruffled her hair."Get some sleep Aimee."

Aimee didn't argue.She shut her eyes and was out like a light.

She woke up a few hours later to screaming.

"Ahhhggggggh!"

Aimee lifted her head from Leo's shoulder quickly and rubbed her eyes. She wasn't sure what was more jarring—the full sunlight that now bathed the room, or the screaming satyr.

"Coach is awake," Leo said, which was kind of unnecessary. Gleeson Hedge was capering around on his furry hindquarters, swinging his club and yelling, "Die!" as he smashed the tea set, whacked the sofas, and charged at the throne.

"Coach!" Jason yelled.

Hedge turned, breathing hard. His eyes were so wild, Aimee was afraid he might attack. The satyr was still wearing his orange polo shirt and his coach's whistle, but his horns were clearly visible above his curly hair, and his beefy hindquarters were definitely all goat. Could you call a goat beefy? Aimee put the thought aside.

"You're the new kids," Hedge said, lowering his club. "Jason and Aime." He looked at Leo, then Piper, who'd apparently also just woken up. Her hair looked like it had become a nest for a friendly hamster.

"Valdez, McLean," the coach said. "What's going on? We were at the Grand Canyon. The anemoi thuellai were attacking and—" He zeroed in on the storm spirit cage, and his eyes went back to DEFCON 1. "Die!"

"Whoa, Coach!" Leo stepped in his path, which was pretty brave, even though Hedge was six inches shorter. "It's okay. They're locked up. We just sprang you from the other cage."

"Cage? Cage? What's going on? Just because I'm a satyr doesn't mean I can't have you doing plank push-ups, Valdez!"

Jason cleared his throat. "Coach—Gleeson—um, whatever you want us to call you. You saved us at the Grand Canyon. You were totally brave."

"Of course I was!"

"The extraction team came and took us to Camp Half-Blood. We thought we'd lost you. Then we got word the storm spirits had taken you back to their—um, operator, Medea."

"That witch! Wait—that's impossible. She's mortal. She's dead."

"Yeah, well," Leo said, "somehow she got not dead anymore."

Hedge nodded, his eyes narrowing. "So! You were sent on a dangerous quest to rescue me. Excellent!"

"Um." Piper got to her feet, holding out her hands so Coach Hedge wouldn't attack her. "Actually, Glee—can I still call you Coach Hedge? Gleeson seems wrong. We're on a quest for something else. We kind of found you by accident."

"Oh." The coach's spirits seemed to deflate, but only for a second. Then his eyes lit up again. "But there are no accidents! Not on quests. This was meant to happen! So, this is the witch's lair, eh? Why is everything gold?"

"Gold?" Jason looked around. From the way Leo and Piper caught their breath, he guessed they hadn't noticed yet either.

The room was full of gold—the statues, the tea set Hedge had smashed, the chair that was definitely a throne. Even the curtains—which seemed to have opened by themselves at daybreak—appeared to be woven of gold fiber.

"Nice," Leo said. "No wonder they got so much security."

"This isn't—" Aimee stammered. "This isn't Medea's place, Coach. It's some rich person's mansion in Omaha. We got away from Medea and crash-landed here."

"It's destiny, cupcakes!" Hedge insisted. "I'm meant to protect you. What's the quest?"

Before Aimee could decide if he wanted to explain or just shove Coach Hedge back into his cage, a door opened at the far end of the room.

A pudgy man in a white bathrobe stepped out with a golden toothbrush in his mouth. He had a white beard and one of those long, old-fashioned sleeping caps pressed down over his white hair. He froze when he saw them, and the toothbrush fell out of his mouth.

He glanced into the room behind him and called, "Son? Lit, come out here, please. There are strange people in the throne room."

Coach Hedge did the obvious thing. He raised his club and shouted, "Die!"