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BOREADS
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AS THEY GOT CLOSER, Laviana worried they'd crash into the tower. The Boreads made right for the green gabled peak and didn't slow down. Then a section of the slanted roof slid open, revealing an entrance easily wide enough for Festus. The top and bottom were lined with icicles like jagged teeth.
This cannot be good," Jason muttered, but Leo spurred the dragon downward, and they swooped in after the Boreads.
They landed in what must have been the penthouse suite; but the place had been hit by a flash freeze. The entry hall had vaulted ceilings forty feet high, huge draped windows, and lush oriental carpets. A staircase at the back of the room led up to another equally massive hall, and more corridors branched off to the left and right. But the ice made the room's beauty a little frightening.
When Laviana slid off the dragon, the carpet crunched under her feet. A fine layer of frost covered the furniture. The curtains didn't budge because they were frozen solid, and the ice-coated windows let in weird watery light from the sunset. Even the ceiling was furry with icicles. As for the stairs, Laviana was sure she'd slip and break her neck if she tried to climb them.
"Guys," Leo said, "fix the thermostat in here, and I would totally move in."
"Not me." Jason looked uneasily at the staircase. "Something feels wrong. Something up there ..."
Festus shuddered and snorted flames. Frost started to form on his scales.
"No, no, no." Zethes marched over, though how he could walk in those pointy leather shoes, Laviana had no idea. "The dragon must be deactivated. We can't have fire in here. The heat ruins my hair."
"Oh how terrible," Laviana muttered.
Festus growled and spun his drill-bit teeth.
"'S'okay, boy." Leo turned to Zethes. "The dragon's a little touchy about the whole deactivation concept. But I've got a better solution."
"Destroy?" Cal suggested.
"No, man. You gotta stop with the destroy talk. Just wait."
"Leo," Piper said nervously, "what are you—"
"Watch and learn, beauty queen. When I was repairing Festus last night, I found all kinds of buttons. Some, you do not want to know what they do. But others ... Ah, here we go."
Leo hooked his fingers behind the dragon's left foreleg. He pulled a switch, and the dragon shuddered from head to toe. Everyone backed away as Festus folded like origami. His bronze plating stacked together. His neck and tail contracted into his body. His wings collapsed and his trunk compacted until he was a rectangular metal wedge the size of a suitcase. Leo tried to lift it, but the thing weighed about six billion
pounds. "Um ... yeah. Hold on. I think—aha."
He pushed another button. A handle flipped up on the top, and wheels clicked out on the bottom.
"Ta-da!" he announced. "The world's heaviest carry-on bag!"
"That's impossible," Jason said. "Something that big couldn't—"
"Stop!" Zethes ordered. He and Cal both drew their swords and glared at Leo.
Leo raised his hands. "Okay ... what'd I do? Stay calm, guys. If it bothers you that much, I don't have to take the dragon as carry-on—"
"Who are you?" Zethes shoved the point of his sword against Leo's chest. "A child of the South Wind, spying on us?"
"What? No!" Leo said. "Son of Hephaestus. Friendly blacksmith, no harm to anyone!"
Cal growled. He put his face up to Leo's.
"Smell fire," he said. "Fire is bad."
"Oh." Leo said. "Yeah, well ... my clothes are kind of singed, and I've been working with oil, and—"
"No!" Zethes pushed Leo back at sword point. "We can smellfire, demigod. We assumed it was from the creaky dragon, but now the dragon is a suitcase. And I still smell fire ... on you."
"Hey ... look ... I don't know—" He glanced at his friends desperately. "Guys, a little help?"
Jason already had his gold coin in his hand. He stepped forward, his eyes on Zethes. "Look, there's been a mistake. Leo isn't a fire guy. Tell them, Leo. Tell them you're not a fire guy."
"Um ..."
"Zethes?" Piper tried her dazzling smile again, though she looked a little too nervous and cold to pull it off. "We're all friends here. Put down your swords and let's talk."
"The girl is pretty," Zethes admitted, "and of course she cannot help being attracted to my amazingness; but sadly, I cannot romance her at this time."
He poked his sword point farther into Leo's chest, and Laviana could see the frost spreading across his shirt.
"Destroy him now?" Cal asked his brother.
Zethes nodded. "Sadly, I think—"
"No," Jason insisted. He sounded calm enough, but Laviana figured he was about two seconds away from flipping that coin and going into full gladiator mode. "Leo's just a son of Hephaestus. He's no threat. Piper here is a daughter of Aphrodite. Laviana's unclaimed. I'm the son of Zeus. We're on a peaceful ..." Jason's voice faltered, because both Boreads had suddenly turned on him.
"What did you say?" Zethes demanded. "You are the son of Zeus?"
"Um ... yeah," Jason said. "That's a good thing, right? My name is Jason."
Cal looked so surprised, he almost dropped his sword.
"Can't be Jason," he said. "Doesn't look the same."
Zethes stepped forward and squinted at Jason's face. "No, he is not our Jason. Our Jason was more stylish. Not as much as me—but stylish. Besides, our Jason died millennia ago."
"Wait," Jason said. "Your Jason ... you mean the original Jason? The Golden Fleece guy?"
"Of course," Zethes said. "We were his crewmates aboard his ship, the Argo, in the old times, when we were mortal demigods. Then we accepted immortality to serve our father, so I could look this good for all time, and my silly brother could enjoy pizza and hockey."
"Hockey!" Cal agreed.
"But Jason—our Jason—he died a mortal death," Zethes said. "You can't be him."
"I'm not," Jason agreed.
"So, destroy?" Cal asked. Clearly the conversation was giving his two brain cells a serious workout.
"No," Zethes said regretfully. "If he is a son of Zeus, and his friend is unclaimed," he glared at Laviana for whatever reason. "They could be the ones we've been watching for."
"Watching for?" Leo asked. "You mean like in a good way: you'll shower them with fabulous prizes? Or watching for like in a bad way: they're in trouble?"
A girl's voice said, "That depends on my father's will."
Laviana looked up the staircase. At the top stood a girl in a white silk dress. Her skin was unnaturally pale, the color of snow, but her hair was a lush mane of black, and her eyes were coffee brown. She focused on Leo with no expression, no smile, no friendliness. But it didn't matter. Leo was obviously in love.
Then she looked at Laviana, Jason and Piper, and seemed to understand the situation immediately.
"Father will want to see the one called Jason," the girl said.
"Then it is him?" Zethes asked excitedly.
"We'll see," the girl said. "Zethes, bring our guests."
Leo grabbed the handle of his bronze dragon suitcase. Before he could take a step, the girl froze him with a look. Not literally froze, but she might as well have.
"Not you, Leo Valdez," she said.
"Why not?" He sounded like a whiny kindergartner.
"You cannot be in the presence of my father," the girl said. "Fire and ice—it would not be wise."
"We're going together," Jason insisted, putting his hand on Leo's shoulder, "or not at all."
The girl tilted her head, like she wasn't used to people refusing her orders. "He will not be harmed, Jason Grace, unless you make trouble. Calais, keep Leo Valdez here. Guard him, but do not kill him."
Cal pouted. "Just a little?"
"No," the girl insisted. "And take care of his interesting suitcase, until Father passes judgment."
Laviana, Jason and Piper looked at Leo, their expressions asking him a silent question: How do you want to play this?
"It's fine, guys," he said. "No sense causing trouble if we don't have to. You go ahead."
"Listen to your friend," the pale girl said. "Leo Valdez will be perfectly safe. I wish I could say the same for you, son of Zeus. Now come, King Boreas is waiting."
-
Laviana didn't want to leave Leo, but she was starting to think that hanging out with Cal the hockey jock might be the least dangerous option in this place.
As they climbed the icy staircase, Zethes stayed behind them, his blade drawn. The guy might've looked like a disco- era reject, but there was nothing funny about his sword. Laviana figured one hit from that thing would probably turn her into a Popsicle.
Then there was the ice princess. Every once in a while she'd turn and give them a smile, but there was no warmth in her expression. She regarded Jason like he was an especially interesting science specimen—one she couldn't wait to dissect.
If these were Boreas's kids, Laviana wasn't sure he wanted to meet their father.
"It'll be fine," Piper said suddenly. "Just a talk, right?"
Laviana looked back at them and smirked. Jason had grabbed Piper's hand.
At the top of the stairs, Zethes poked Jason in the back with his icicle sword, and they followed the princess down a massive hallway decked in frosty tapestries.
"Hey." Piper touched Jason's arm, who had gone into memory depression. "You still with me?"
"Yeah ... yeah, sorry."
At the end of the hallway they found themselves in front of a set of oaken doors carved with a map of the world. In each corner was a man's bearded face, blowing wind.
The princess turned. Her brown eyes glittered, and Laviana felt like she was a Christmas present she was hoping to open.
"This is the throne room," she said. "Be on your best behavior, Jason Grace. My father can be ... chilly. I will translate for you, and try to encourage him to hear you out. I do hope he spares you. We could have such fun."
"Um, okay," Jason managed. "But really, we're just here for a little talk. We'll be leaving right afterward."
The girl smiled. "I love heroes. So blissfully ignorant."
Piper rested her hand on her dagger. "Well, how about you enlighten us? You say you're going to translate for us, and we don't even know who you are. What's your name?"
The girl sniffed with distaste. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you don't recognize me. Even in the ancient times the Greeks did not know me well. Their island homes were too warm, too far from my domain. I am Khione, daughter of Boreas, goddess of snow."
She stirred the air with her finger, and a miniature blizzard swirled around her—big, fluffy flakes as soft as cotton.
"Now, come," Khione said. The oaken doors blew open, and cold blue light spilled out of the room. "Hopefully you will survive your little talk."
-
If the entry hall had been cold, the throne room was like a meat locker.
Mist hung in the air. Laviana shivered, and her breath steamed. Along the walls, purple tapestries showed scenes of snowy forests, barren mountains, and glaciers. High above, ribbons of colored light—the aurora borealis—pulsed along the ceiling. A layer of snow covered the floor, so she had to step carefully. All around the room stood life-size ice sculpture warriors—some in Greek armor, some medieval, some in modern camouflage—all frozen in various attack positions, swords raised, guns locked and loaded.
At least Laviana thought they were sculptures. Then Jason tried to step between two Greek spearmen, and they moved with surprising speed, their joints cracking and spraying ice crystals as they crossed their javelins to block the path.
From the far end of the hall, a man's voice rang out in a language that sounded like French. The room was so long and misty, Laviana couldn't see the other end; but whatever the man said, the ice guards uncrossed their javelins.
"It's fine," Khione said. "My father has ordered them not to kill you just yet."
"Super," Jason said.
Zethes prodded him in the back with his sword. "Keep moving, Jason Junior."
"Please don't call me that."
"My father is not a patient man," Zethes warned, "and the beautiful Piper, sadly, is losing her magic hairdo very fast. Later, perhaps, I can lend her something from my wide assortment of hair products."
"Thanks," Piper grumbled.
They kept walking, and the mist parted to reveal a man on an ice throne.
He was sturdily built, dressed in a stylish white suit that seemed woven from snow, with dark purple wings that spread out to either side. His long hair and shaggy beard were encrusted with icicles, so Laviana couldn't tell if his hair was gray or just white with frost. His arched eyebrows made him look angry, but his eyes twinkled more warmly than his daughter's —as if he might have a sense of humor buried somewhere under that permafrost.
"Bienvenu," the king said. "Je suis Boreas le Roi. Et vous?"
Khione the snow goddess was about to speak, but Piper stepped forward and curtsied.
"Votre Majesté," she said, "je suis Piper McLean. C'est Laviana. Et c'est Jason, fils de Zeus."
The king smiled with pleasant surprise. "Vous parlez français? Très bien!"
"Piper, you speak French?" Jason asked.
Piper frowned. "No. Why?"
"You just spoke French."
Piper blinked. "I did?"
The king said something else, and Piper nodded. "Oui, Votre Majesté."
The king laughed and clapped his hands, obviously delighted. He said a few more sentences then swept his hand toward his daughter as if shooing her away.
Khione looked miffed. "The king says—"
"He says I'm a daughter of Aphrodite," Piper interrupted, "so naturally I can speak French, which is the language of love. I had no idea. His Majesty says Khione won't have to translate now."
Behind them, Zethes snorted, and Khione shot him a murderous look. She bowed stiffly to her father and took a step back.
The king sized up Jason and Laviana, and they decided it would be a good idea to bow.
"Your Majesty, I'm Jason Grace. This is Laviana James. Thank you for, um, not killing us. May I ask ... why does a Greek god speak French?"
Piper had another exchange with the king.
"He speaks the language of his host country," Piper translated. "He says all gods do this. Most Greek gods speak English, as they now reside in the United States, but Boreas was never welcomed in their realm. His domain was always far to the north. These days he likes Quebec, so he speaks French."
The king said something else, and Piper turned pale.
"The king says ..." She faltered. "He says—"
"Oh, allow me," Khione said. "My father says he has orders to kill you. Did I not mention that earlier?"
Laviana tensed. The king was still smiling amiably, like he'd just delivered great news.
"Kill us?" Laviana said. "Any particular reason?"
"Because," the king said, in heavily accented English, "my lord Aeolus has commanded it."
Boreas rose. He stepped down from his throne and furled his wings against his back. As he approached, Khione and Zethes bowed. Laviana, Jason and Piper followed their example.
"I shall deign to speak your language," Boreas said, "as Piper McLean has honored me in mine. Toujours, I have had a fondness for the children of Aphrodite. As for you, Jason Grace, my master Aeolus would not expect me to kill a son of Lord Zeus ... without first hearing you out."
Laviana's key seemed to grow heavy in her jacket pocket. If she were forced to fight, she didn't like their chances. Two seconds at least to summon her blade. Then she'd be facing a god, two of his children, and an army of freeze-dried warriors.
"Aeolus is the master of the winds, right?" Jason asked. "Why would he want us dead?"
"You are demigods," Boreas said, as if this explained everything. "Aeolus's job is to contain the winds, and demigods have always caused him many headaches. They ask him for favors. They unleash winds and cause chaos. But the final insult was the battle with Typhon last summer..."
Boreas waved his hand, and a sheet of ice like a flat- screen TV appeared in the air. Images of a battle flickered across the surface—a giant wrapped in storm clouds, wading across a river toward the Manhattan skyline. Tiny, glowing figures—the gods, Laviana guessed—swarmed around him like angry wasps, pounding the monster with lightning and fire. Finally the river erupted in a massive whirlpool, and the smoky form sank beneath the waves and disappeared.
"The storm giant, Typhon," Boreas explained. "The first time the gods defeated him, eons ago, he did not die quietly. His death released a host of storm spirits—wild winds that answered to no one. It was Aeolus's job to track them all down and imprison them in his fortress. The other gods—they did not help. They did not even apologize for the inconvenience. It took Aeolus centuries to track down all the storm spirits, and naturally this irritated him. Then, last summer, Typhon was defeated again—"
"And his death released another wave of venti," Jason guessed. "Which made Aeolus even angrier."
"C'est vrai," Boreas agreed.
"But, Your Majesty," Laviana said, "the gods had no choice but to battle Typhon. He was going to destroy Olympus! Besides, why punish demigods for that?"
She knew the answer as soon as she said it.
The king shrugged. "Aeolus cannot take out his anger on the gods. They are his bosses, and very powerful. So he gets even with the demigods who helped them in the war. He issued orders to us: demigods who come to us for aid are no longer to be tolerated. We are to crush your little mortal faces."
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"That sounds ... extreme," Jason ventured. "But you're not going to crush our faces yet, right? You're going to listen to us first, 'cause once you hear about our quest—"
"Yes, yes," the king agreed. "You see, Aeolus also said that a son of Zeus might seek my aid, and if this happened, I should listen to you before destroying you, as you might—how did he put it?—make all our lives very interesting. I am only obligated to listen, however. After that, I am free to pass judgment as I see fit. But I will listen first. Khione wishes this also. It may be that we will not kill you."
"Great. Thanks."
"Do not thank me." Boreas smiled. "There are many ways you could make our lives interesting. Sometimes we keep demigods for our amusement, as you can see."
He gestured around the room to the various ice statues.
Laviana flinched. "You mean—they're all demigods? Frozen demigods? They're alive?"
"An interesting question," Boreas conceded, as if it had never occurred to him before. "They do not move unless they are obeying my orders. The rest of the time, they are merely frozen. Unless they were to melt, I suppose, which would be very messy."
Khione stepped behind Jason and put her cold fingers on his neck. "My father gives me such lovely presents," she murmured in his ear. "Join our court. Perhaps I'll let your friends go."
"What?" Zethes broke in. "If Khione gets this one, then I deserve the girls. Khione always gets more presents!"
"Now, children," Boreas said sternly. "Our guests will think you are spoiled! Besides, you moved too fast. We have not even heard the demigod's story yet. Then we will decide what to do with them. Please, Jason Grace, entertain us."
Electricity sparked along Jason's skin. There was loud pop, and Khione flew backward, skidding across the floor.
Zethes laughed. "That is good! I'm glad you did that, even though I have to kill you now."
For a moment, Khione was too stunned to react. Then the air around her began to swirl with a micro-blizzard. "You dare—"
"Stop," Jason ordered, with as much force as he could muster. "You're not going to kill us. And you're not going to keep us. We're on a quest for the queen of the gods herself, so unless you want Hera busting down your doors, you're going to let us go."
It got their attention. Khione's blizzard swirled to a stop. Zethes lowered his sword. They both looked uncertainly at their father.
"Hmm," Boreas said. His eyes twinkled, but Laviana couldn't tell if it was with anger or amusement. "A son of Zeus, favored by Hera? This is definitely a first. Tell us your story."
"Your Majesty." Laviana curtsied again as best she could. She told Boreas the whole story, from the Grand Canyon to the prophecy.
"All we ask for is guidance," she concluded. "These storm spirits attacked us, and they're working for some evil mistress. If we find them, maybe we can find Hera."
The king stroked the icicles in his beard. Out the windows, night had fallen, and the only light came from the aurora borealis overhead, washing everything in red and blue.
"I know of these storm spirits," Boreas said. "I know where they are kept, and of the prisoner they took."
"You mean Coach Hedge?" Laviana asked. "He's alive?"
Boreas waved aside the question. "For now. But the one who controls these storm winds ... It would be madness to oppose her. You would be better staying here as frozen statues."
"Hera's in trouble," Jason said. "In three days she's going to be—I don't know—consumed, destroyed, something. And a giant is going to rise."
"Yes," Boreas agreed. Was it Laviana's imagination, or did he shoot Khione an angry look? "Many horrible things are waking. Even my children do not tell me all the news they should. The Great Stirring of monsters that began with Kronos —your father Zeus foolishly believed it would end when the Titans were defeated. But just as it was before, so it is now. The final battle is yet to come, and the one who will wake is more terrible than any Titan. Storm spirits—these are only beginning. The earth has many more horrors to yield up. When monsters no longer stay in Tartarus, and souls are no longer confined to Hades...Olympus has good reason to fear."
Souls not being confined to Hades, Laviana thought. Could he have meant her?
"So you'll help us?" Jason asked the king.
Boreas scowled. "I did not say that."
"Please, Your Majesty," Piper said.
Everyone's eyes turned toward her. She had to be scared out of her mind, but she looked beautiful and confident—and it had nothing to do with the blessing of Aphrodite. She looked herself again, in day-old traveling clothes with choppy hair and no makeup. "If you tell us where the storm spirits are, we can capture them and bring them to Aeolus. You'd look good in front of your boss. Aeolus might pardon us and the other demigods. We could even rescue Gleeson Hedge. Everyone wins."
"She's pretty," Zethes mumbled. "I mean, she's right."
"Father, don't listen to her," Khione said. "She's a child of Aphrodite. She dares to charmspeak a god? Freeze her now!"
Boreas considered this. Jason slipped his hand in his pocket and got ready to bring out the gold coin.
The movement caught Boreas's eye. "What is that on your forearm, demigod?"
Jason's coat sleeve had gotten pushed up, revealing the edge of his tattoo. Reluctantly, he showed Boreas his marks.
The god's eyes widened. Khione actually hissed and stepped away.
Then Boreas did something unexpected. He laughed so loudly, an icicle cracked from the ceiling and crashed next to his throne. The god's form began to flicker. His beard disappeared. He grew taller and thinner, and his clothes changed into a Roman toga, lined with purple. His head was crowned with a frosty laurel wreath, and a gladius—a Roman sword like Jason's—hung at his side.
"Aquilon," Jason said.
The god inclined his head."You recognize better in this form, yes? And yet you said you came from Camp Half-Blood? "
Jason shifted his feet. "Uh ... yes, Your Majesty."
"And Hera sent you there..." The winter god's eyes were full of mirth. "I understand now. Oh, she plays a dangerous game. Bold, but dangerous! No wonder Olympus is closed. They must be trembling at the gamble she has taken."
"Jason," Piper said nervously, "why did Boreas change shape? The toga, the wreath. What's going on?"
"It's his Roman form," Jason said. "But what's going on—I don't know."
The god laughed. "No, I'm sure you don't. This should be very interesting to watch."
"Does that mean you'll let us go?" Piper asked.
"My dear," Boreas said, "there is no reason for me to kill you. If Hera's plan fails, which I think it will, you will tear each other apart. Aeolus will never have to worry about demigods again."
"I don't suppose you could explain?" Jason asked.
"Oh, perish the thought! It is not for me to interfere in Hera's plan. No wonder she took your memory." Boreas chuckled, apparently still having a great time imagining demigods tearing each other apart. "You know, I have a reputation as a helpful wind god. Unlike my brethren, I've been known to fall in love with mortals. Why, my sons Zethes and Calais started as demigods—"
"Which explains why they are idiots," Khione growled.
"Stop it!" Zethes snapped back. "Just because you were born a full goddess—"
"Both of you, freeze," Boreas ordered. Apparently, that word carried a lot of weight in the household, because the two siblings went absolutely still. "Now, as I was saying, I have a good reputation, but it is rare that Boreas plays an important role in the affairs of gods. I sit here in my palace, at the edge of civilization, and so rarely have amusements. Why, even that fool Notus, the South Wind, gets spring break in Cancún. What do I get? A winter festival with naked Québécois rolling around in the snow!"
"I like the winter festival," Zethes muttered.
"My point," Boreas snapped, "is that I now have a chance to be the center. Oh, yes, I will let you go on this quest. You will find your storm spirits in the windy city, of course. Chicago—"
"Father!" Khione protested.
Boreas ignored his daughter. "If you can capture the winds, you may be able to gain safe entrance to the court of Aeolus. If by some miracle you succeed, be sure to tell him you captured the winds on my orders."
"Okay, sure," Jason said. "So Chicago is where we'll find this lady who's controlling the winds? She's the one who's trapped Hera?"
"Ah." Boreas grinned. "Those are two different questions, son of Jupiter."
Jupiter, Laviana noticed. Before, he called him son of Zeus.
"The one who controls the winds," Boreas continued, "yes, you will find her in Chicago. But she is only a servant—a servant who is very likely to destroy you. If you succeed against her and take the winds, then you may go to Aeolus. Only he has knowledge of all the winds on the earth. All secrets come to his fortress eventually. If anyone can tell you where Hera is imprisoned, it is Aeolus. As for who you will meet when you finally find Hera's cage—truly, if I told you that, you would beg me to freeze you."
"Father," Khione protested, "you can't simply let them—"
"I can do what I like," he said, his voice hardening. "I am still master here, am I not?"
The way Boreas glared at his daughter, it was obvious they had some ongoing argument. Khione's eyes flashed with anger, but she clenched her teeth. "As you wish, Father."
"Now go, demigods," Boreas said, "before I change my mind. Zethes, escort them out safely."
They all bowed, and the god of the North Wind dissolved into mist.
-
Back in the entry hall, Cal and Leo were waiting for them. Leo looked cold but unharmed. He'd even gotten cleaned up, and his clothes looked newly washed, like he'd used the hotel's valet service. Festus the dragon was back in normal form, snorting fire over his scales to keep himself defrosted.
As Khione led them down the stairs, Jason noticed that Leo's eyes followed her. Leo started combing his hair back with his hands.
At the bottom step, Khione turned to Piper. "You have fooled my father, girl. But you have not fooled me. We are not done. And you, Jason Grace, Laviana James. I will see you two as statues in the throne room soon enough."
"Boreas is right," Jason said. "You're a spoiled kid. See you around, ice princess."
Khione's eyes flared pure white. For once, she seemed at a loss for words. She stormed back up the stairs—literally. Halfway up, she turned into a blizzard and disappeared.
"Be careful," Zethes warned. "She never forgets an insult."
Cal grunted in agreement. "Bad sister."
"She's the goddess of snow," Jason said. "What's she going to do, throw snowballs at us?"
But as he said it, Laviana had a feeling Khione could do a whole lot worse.
Leo looked devastated. "What happened up there? You made her mad? Is she mad at me too? Guys, that was my prom date!"
"We'll explain later," Piper promised, but when she glanced at Jason, it was obvious she expected him to explain.
Jason looked away from Piper.
"Yeah," he agreed, "we'll explain later."
"Be careful, pretty girls," Zethes said. "The winds between here and Chicago are bad-tempered. Many other evil things are stirring. I am sorry you will not be staying. You would make lovely ice statues, in which I could check my reflection.
"Thanks," Laviana said. "But I'd sooner play hockey with Cal."
"Hockey?" Cal's eyes lit up.
Laviana rolled her eyes. "The storm winds aren't our worst problem, are they?"
"Oh, no," Zethes agreed. "Something else. Something worse."
"Worse," Cal echoed.
"Can you tell me?" Piper gave them a smile.
This time, the charm didn't work. The purple-winged Boreads shook their heads in unison. The hangar doors opened onto a freezing starry night, and Festus the dragon stomped his feet, anxious to fly.
"Ask Aeolus what is worse," Zethes said darkly. "He knows. Good luck."
He almost sounded like he cared what happened to them, even though a few minutes ago he'd wanted to make the girls into ice sculptures.
Cal patted Leo on the shoulder. "Don't get destroyed," he said, which was probably the longest sentence he'd ever attempted. "Next time—hockey. Pizza."
"Come on, guys." Jason stared out at the dark. "Let's go to Chicago and try not to get destroyed."
- A/N -
HEY!
I have a prequel for Laviana's story out on my profile now!