They all would have died five times on the way to the front door if not for Leo.
First it was the motion-activated trapdoor on the sidewalk, then the lasers on the steps, then the nerve gas dispenser on the porch railing, the pressure-sensitive poison spikes in the welcome mat, and of course the exploding doorbell.
Leo deactivated all of them. It was like he could smell the traps, and he picked just the right tool out of his belt to disable them.
"You're amazing, man," Jason said.
Leo scowled as he examined the front door lock. "Yeah, amazing," he said. "Can't fix a dragon right, but I'm amazing."
"That wasn't your fault—" Estella started to tell him.
"Front door's already unlocked," Leo announced.
Piper stared at the door in disbelief. "It is? All those traps, and the door's unlocked?"
Leo turned the knob. The door swung open easily. He stepped inside without hesitation.
Before Jason or Estella could follow, Piper caught their arms, one hand in each. "He's going to need some time to get over Festus. Don't take it personally."
"Yeah," Jason said. "Yeah, okay."
"I won't," Estella said, wearing a frown on a face. She completely understood and hated seeing one of her best friends suffering.
She still felt terrible for what she had said back in Medea's store—plus almost killing him and Jason, which a friend shouldn't do. If it hadn't been for Piper, they'd all be dead. And Piper hadn't gotten out of that encounter easily, either.
"Piper," Estella said, "I know I was in a daze back in Chicago, but that stuff about your dad—if he's in trouble, We really want to help. I don't care if it's a trap or not."
Jason nodded in agreement, watching Piper.
Her eyes were always different colors, but now they looked shattered, as if she'd seen something she just couldn't cope with. "Guys, you don't know what you're saying. Please—don't make me feel worse. Come on. We should stick together."
She ducked inside.
"Together," Jason muttered to Estella. "Yeah, we're doing great with that."
Estella chuckled despite the many emotions clouding her head.
Estella and Jason went in after Piper and her first impression of the house was dark.
From the echo of her footsteps she could tell the entry hall was enormous, even bigger than Boreas's penthouse; but the only illumination came from the yard lights outside. A faint glow peeked through the breaks in the thick velvet curtains. The windows rose about ten feet tall. Spaced between them along the walls were life-size metal statues. As Estella's eyes adjusted, she saw sofas arranged in a U in the middle of the room, with a central coffee table and one large chair at the far end. A massive chandelier glinted overhead. Along the back wall stood a row of closed doors.
"Where's the light switch?" Jason asked, his voice echoed alarmingly through the room.
"Don't see one," Leo said.
"Fire?" Piper suggested.
Leo held out his hand, but nothing happened. "It's not working."
"Your fire is out? Why?" Estella asked.
"Well, if I knew that—"
"Okay, I'm sorry," Estella was quick to say.
"Should we explore?" Piper asked.
Leo shook his head. "After all those traps outside? Bad idea."
Estella'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," 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."
Estella shuddered.
"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 Jason ate, he 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 Jason 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 Jason got the uncomfortable feeling they were watching him. He 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. Jason decided not to sit next to him in case Hedge suddenly unfroze and went into ninja goat mode.
Despite how wired he 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. Jason 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 Jason feel even guiltier.
And they were running out of time. If Jason had his days straight, this was early morning of December 20. Which meant tomorrow was the winter solstice.
Then there was Estella, who's head was buried in her legs, sitting a little farther from Jason. Jason wanted to ask her what was wrong, wanted to scoot closer to her and wrap his arms around her. It was very clear that Estella was hiding something, something that she's scared to tell them. Jason has the feeling in the back of his head that she was in some type of danger, and before this quest is over, he wants to make sure that she's safe—even if he has to force out her secrets.
Estella lifted her head up and glanced at Jason. "Hey, get some sleep, please," she said. "You look exhausted."
Jason sighed, very aware that Leo was probably listening in. "Estella," he said, his voice stern. Estella let out a barely audible gulp. Since the first time he brought it up, Estella became wary and scared—which made Jason even more suspicious and he knew that she was hiding something.
Jason inched closer, causing Estella's eyes to widen. She started chewing the inside of her cheeks, and Jason wanted to tell her to stop that. Jason carefully grabbed a hold of Estella's wrist, and was alarmed to see Estella flinch out of pure fear.
Jason glanced back at Leo, who seemed to have been avoiding looking at the interaction between them, but his ears being perked up, completely aware of them as he worked on the cage.
"Take your jacket off."
Jason stared at Estella and she stared back, her breathing heaved. She looked as if she was about to cry again. Jason hated that. Estella shook her head and pulled her wrist away from Jason's grasp.
"No," Estella said.
Leo sighed from where he was working on the canary cages, not looking at Jason or Estella. "Look, Stell," he says, "if you got nothing to hide, why is it such a big deal? We'll stop questioning you if you just lift up your sleeves or something."
Estella sighed. "Maybe tomorrow or something, okay?" she said, looking down at her pants, moving her hands around anxiously. "I'm kind of tired, and Jason, you've had the last few watches so I think you should get some rest..."
Leo nodded. "Estella's right about that one. I'll take watch. But Estella, we won't forget about this, okay?"
"Okay."
•••
Estella woke up when the yelling started.
Estella quickly sat up as Jason jumped to his feet, nearly hitting Estella's face with his arm. Estella wasn't sure which was more jarring—the full sunlight that now bathed the room or the screaming satyr.
"Coach is awake," Leo stated the obvious. 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.
Estella was scared.
"Coach!" Jason yelled.
Hedge turned, breathing hard. His eyes were so wild, Estella was afraid he might attack Jason. 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? Jason put the thought aside.
"You're the new kid," Hedge said, lowering his club. "Jason." He looked at Leo, then Estella, then Piper, who'd apparently also just woken up. Her hair looked like it had become a nest for a friendly hamster.
"Nunez, 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 attack mode. "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?" Estella muttered to herself, looking around. From the way Leo, Jason and Piper caught their breath, she 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—" Piper 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?"
Jason opened his mouth to respond, just as 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!"
•••
It took all four of them to hold back the aggressive satyr.
"Whoa, Coach!" Jason said. "Bring it down a few notches."
A younger man charged into the room. Jason guessed he must be Lit, the old guy's son. He was dressed in pajama pants with a sleeveless T-shirt that said cornhuskers, and he held a sword that looked like it could husk a lot of things besides corn. His ripped arms were covered in scars, and his face, framed by curly dark hair, would've been handsome if it wasn't also sliced up.
Lit immediately zeroed in on Jason like he was the biggest threat, and stalked toward him, swinging his sword overhead.
"Hold on!" Piper stepped forward, trying for her best calming voice. "This is just a misunderstanding! Everything's fine."
Lit stopped in his tracks, but he still looked wary. It didn't help that Hedge was screaming, "I'll get them! Don't worry!"
"Coach," Jason pleaded, "they may be friendly.
"Besides," Estella added timidly, "aren't we trespassing in their house?"
"Thank you!" said the old man in the bathrobe. "Now, who are you, and why are you here?"
"Let's all put our weapons down," Piper said. "Coach, you first."
Hedge clenched his jaw. "Just one thwack?"
"No," Piper said.
"What about a compromise? I'll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I'll apologize."
"No!" Piper insisted.
"Meh." Coach Hedge lowered his club.
Piper gave Lit a friendly sorry-about-that smile.
Lit huffed and sheathed his sword. "You speak well, girl—fortunately for your friends, or I would've run them through."
"Appreciate it," Leo said. "I try not to get run through before lunchtime."
The old man in the bathrobe sighed, kicking the teapot that Coach Hedge had smashed. "Well, since you're here. Please, sit down."
Lit frowned. "Your Majesty—"
"No, no, it's fine, Lit," the old man said. "New land, new customs. They may sit in my presence. After all, they've seen me in my nightclothes. No sense observing formalities." He did his best to smile, though it looked a little forced. "Welcome to my humble home. I am King Midas."
•••
"Midas? Impossible," said Coach Hedge. "He died."
They were sitting on the sofas now, while the king reclined on his throne. Tricky to do that in a bathrobe, and Jason kept worrying the old guy would forget and uncross his legs. Hopefully he was wearing golden boxers under there.
Lit stood behind the throne, both hands on his sword, glancing at Piper and flexing his muscular arms. Occasionally, he'll look at Estella and smirk, and even though his attention was mainly focused on Piper, jealously bubbled in the pit of Jason's stomach.
Piper sat forward. "What our satyr friend means, Your Majesty, is that you're the second mortal we've met who should be—sorry—dead. King Midas lived thousands of years ago."
"Interesting." The king gazed out the windows at the brilliant blue skies and the winter sunlight. In the distance, downtown Omaha looked like a cluster of children's blocks —way too clean and small for a regular city.
"You know," the king said, "I think I was a bit dead for a while. It's strange. Seems like a dream, doesn't it, Lit?"
"A very long dream, Your Majesty."
"And yet, now we're here. I'm enjoying myself very much. I like being alive better."
"But how?" Piper asked. "You didn't happen to have a ... patron?"
Midas hesitated, but there was a sly twinkle in his eyes. "Does it matter, my dear?"
"We could kill them again," Hedge suggested.
"Coach, not helping," Jason said. "Why don't you go outside and stand guard?"
Leo coughed. "Is that safe? They've got some serious security."
"Oh, yes," the king said. "Sorry about that. But it's lovely stuff, isn't it? Amazing what gold can still buy. Such excellent toys you have in this country!"
He fished a remote control out of his bathrobe pocket and pressed a few buttons—a pass code, Jason guessed.
"There," Midas said. "Safe to go out now."
Coach Hedge grunted. "Fine. But if you need me ..." He winked at Jason meaningfully. Then he pointed at himself, pointed two fingers at their hosts, and sliced a finger across his throat. Very subtle sign language.
"Yeah, thanks," Jason said.
After the satyr left, Piper tried another diplomatic smile. "So ... you don't know how you got here?"
"Oh, well, yes. Sort of," the king said. He frowned at Lit. "Why did we pick Omaha, again? I know it wasn't the weather."
"The oracle," Lit said.
"Yes! I was told there was an oracle in Omaha." The king shrugged. "Apparently I was mistaken. But this is a rather nice house, isn't it? Lit—it's short for Lityerses, by the way—horrible name, but his mother insisted—Lit has plenty of wide-open space to practice his swordplay. He has quite a reputation for that. They called him the Reaper of Men back in the old days."
"Oh." Piper tried to sound enthusiastic. "How nice."
Lit's smile was more of a cruel sneer. Jason was now one hundred percent sure he didn't like this guy, and he was starting to regret sending Hedge outside.
"So," Jason said. "All this gold—"
The king's eyes lit up. "Are you here for gold, my boy? Please, take a brochure!"
Jason looked at the brochures on the coffee table. The title said GOLD: Invest for Eternity. "Um, you sell gold?"
"No, no," the king said. "I make it. In uncertain times like these, gold is the wisest investment, don't you think? Governments fall. The dead rise. Giants attack Olympus. But gold retains its value!"
Leo frowned. "I've seen that commercial."
"Oh, don't be fooled by cheap imitators!" the king said. "I assure you, I can beat any price for a serious investor. I can make a wide assortment of gold items at a moment's notice."
Estella leaned forward. "I-I'm sorry, but... I thought... didn't you give up the golden touch...?"
The king looked astonished. "Gave it up?"
"Yes, she's right," Piper said. "You got it from some god—"
"Dionysus," the king agreed. "I'd rescued one of his satyrs, and in return, the god granted me one wish. I chose the golden touch."
"But you accidentally turned your own daughter to gold," Piper remembered. "And you realized how greedy you'd been. So you repented."
"Repented!" King Midas looked at Lit incredulously. "You see, son? You're away for a few thousand years, and the story gets twisted all around. My dear girl, did those stories ever say I'd lost my magic touch?"
"Well, I guess not. They just said you learned how to reverse it with running water, and you brought your daughter back to life."
"That's all true. Sometimes I still have to reverse my touch. There's no running water in the house because I don't want accidents"—he gestured to his statues—"but we chose to live next to a river just in case. Occasionally, I'll forget and pat Lit on the back—"
Lit retreated a few steps. "I hate that."
"I told you I was sorry, son. At any rate, gold is wonderful. Why would I give it up?"
"Well ..." Piper looked truly lost now, exchanging looks with Estella. "Isn't that the point of the story? That you learned your lesson?"
Midas laughed. "My dear, may I see your backpack for a moment? Toss it here."
Piper hesitated, but she wasn't eager to offend the king. She dumped everything out of the pack and tossed it to Midas. As soon as he caught it, the pack turned to gold, like frost spreading across the fabric. It still looked flexible and soft, but definitely gold. The king tossed it back.
"As you see, I can still turn anything to gold," Midas said. "That pack is magic now, as well. Go ahead—put your little storm spirit enemies in there."
"Seriously?" Leo was suddenly interested. He took the bag from Piper and held it up to the cage. As soon as he unzipped the backpack, the winds stirred and howled in protest. The cage bars shuddered. The door of the prison flew open and the winds got vacuumed straight into the pack. Leo zipped it shut and grinned. "Gotta admit. That's cool."
"You see?" Midas said. "My golden touch a curse? Please. I didn't learn any lesson, and life isn't a story, girl. Honestly, my daughter Zoe was much more pleasant as a gold statue."
"She talked a lot," Lit offered.
"Exactly! And so I turned her back to gold." Midas pointed. There in the corner was a golden statue of a girl with a shocked expression, as if she were thinking, Dad!
"That's horrible!" Estella gasped.
"Nonsense. She doesn't mind. Besides, if I'd learned my lesson, would I have gotten these?"
Midas pulled off his oversize sleeping cap, and Jason didn't know whether to laugh or get sick. Midas had long fuzzy gray ears sticking up from his white hair—like Bugs Bunny's, but they weren't rabbit ears. They were donkey ears.
"Oh, wow," Leo said. "I didn't need to see that."
"Terrible, isn't it?" Midas sighed. "A few years after the golden touch incident, I judged a music contest between Apollo and Pan, and I declared Pan the winner. Apollo, sore loser, said I must have the ears of an ass, and voilà. This was my reward for being truthful. I tried to keep them a secret. Only my barber knew, but he couldn't help blabbing." Midas pointed out another golden statue—a bald man in a toga, holding a pair of shears. "That's him. He won't be telling anyone's secrets again."
The king smiled. Suddenly he didn't strike Jason as a harmless old man in a bathrobe. His eyes had a merry glow to them—the look of a madman who knew he was mad, accepted his madness, and enjoyed it. "Yes, gold has many uses. I think that must be why I was brought back, eh Lit? To bankroll our patron."
Lit nodded. "That and my good sword arm."
Jason glanced at his friends. Suddenly the air in the room seemed much colder.
"So you do have a patron," Jason said. "You work for the giants."
King Midas waved his hand dismissively. "Well, I don't care for giants myself, of course. But even supernatural armies need to get paid. I do owe my patron a great debt. I tried to explain that to the last group that came through, but they were very unfriendly. Wouldn't cooperate at all."
Jason slipped his hand into his pocket and grabbed his gold coin. "The last group?"
"Hunters," Lit snarled. "Blasted girls from Artemis."
Jason felt a spark of electricity—a literal spark—travel down his spine. He caught a whiff of electrical fire like he'd just melted some of the springs in the sofa.
His sister had been here.
"When?" he demanded. "What happened?"
Lit shrugged. "Few days ago? I didn't get to kill them, unfortunately. They were looking for some evil wolves, or something. Said they were following a trail, heading west. Missing demigod—I don't recall."
Percy Jackson, Jason thought. Annabeth had mentioned the Hunters were looking for him. And in Jason's dream of the burned-out house in the redwoods, he'd heard enemy wolves baying. Hera had called them her keepers. It had to be connected somehow.
Midas scratched his donkey ears. "Very unpleasant young ladies, those Hunters," he recalled. "They absolutely refused to be turned into gold. Much of the security system outside I installed to keep that sort of thing from happening again, you know. I don't have time for those who aren't serious investors."
Jason stood warily and glanced at his friends. They got the message.
"Well," Piper said, managing a smile. "It's been a great visit. Welcome back to life. Thanks for the gold bag."
"Oh, but you can't leave!" Midas said. "I know you're not serious investors, but that's all right! I have to rebuild my collection."
Lit was smiling cruelly. The king rose, and Leo and Piper moved away from him.
"Don't worry," the king assured them. "You don't have to be turned to gold. I give all my guests a choice—join my collection, or die at the hands of Lityerses. Really, it's good either way."
Piper tried to use her charmspeak. "Your Majesty, you can't—"
Quicker than any old man should've been able to move, Midas lashed out and grabbed her wrist.
"No!" Jason yelled.
But a frost of gold spread over Piper, and in a heartbeat she was a glittering statue.
"Piper!" Estella yelled, and then narrowed his eyes at Midas. "How fucking dare you!" She charged forward, Jason trying to grab her, only for Midas to turn her to gold as well.
"Stell!" Jason and Leo yelled.
Leo tried to summon fire, but he'd forgotten his power wasn't working. Midas touched his hand, and Leo transformed into solid metal.
Jason was so horrified he couldn't move. His friends—just gone. And he hadn't been able to stop it.
Midas smiled apologetically. "Gold trumps fire, I'm afraid." He waved around him at all the gold curtains and furniture. "In this room, my power dampens all others: fire... even charmspeak. Which leaves me only one more trophy to collect."
"Hedge!" Jason yelled. "Need help in here!"
For once, the satyr didn't charge in. Jason wondered if the lasers had gotten him, or if he was sitting at the bottom of a trap pit.
Midas chuckled. "No goat to the rescue? Sad. But don't worry, my boy. It's really not painful. Lit can tell you."
Jason fixed on an idea. "I choose combat. You said I could choose to fight Lit instead."
Midas looked mildly disappointed, but he shrugged. "I said you could die fighting Lit. But of course, if you wish."
The king backed away, and Lit raised his sword.
"I'm going to enjoy this," Lit said. "I am the Reaper of Men!"
"Come on, Cornhusker." Jason summoned his own weapon. This time it came up as a javelin, and Jason was glad for the extra length.
The guy was fast. He slashed and sliced, and Jason could barely dodge the strikes, but his mind went into a different mode—analyzing patterns, learning Lit's style, which was all offense, no defense.
Jason countered, sidestepped, and blocked. Lit seemed surprised to find him still alive.
"What is that style?" Lit growled. "You don't fight like a Greek."
"Legion training," Jason said, though he wasn't sure how he knew that. "It's Roman."
"Roman?" Lit struck again, and Jason deflected his blade. "What is Roman?"
"News flash," Jason said. "While you were dead, Rome defeated Greece. Created the greatest empire of all time."
"Impossible," Lit said. "Never even heard of them."
Jason spun on one heel, smacked Lit in the chest with the butt of his javelin, and sent him toppling into Midas's throne.
"Oh, dear," Midas said. "Lit?"
"I'm fine," Lit growled.
"You'd better help him up," Jason said.
Lit cried, "Dad, no!"
Too late. Midas put his hand on his son's shoulder, and suddenly a very angry-looking gold statue was sitting on Midas's throne.
"Curses!" Midas wailed. "That was a naughty trick, demigod. I'll get you for that." He patted Lit's golden shoulder. "Don't worry, son. I'll get you down to the river right after I collect this prize."
Midas raced forward. Jason dodged, but the old man was fast, too. Jason kicked the coffee table into the old man's legs and knocked him over, but Midas wouldn't stay down for long.
Then Jason glanced at Piper's golden statue. Anger washed over him. He was the son of Zeus. He could not fail his friends.
He felt a tugging sensation in his gut, and the air pressure dropped so rapidly that his ears popped. Midas must've felt it too, because he stumbled to his feet and grabbed his donkey ears.
"Ow! What are you doing?" he demanded. "My power is supreme here!"
Thunder rumbled. Outside, the sky turned black.
"You know another good use for gold?" Jason said.
Midas raised his eyebrows, suddenly excited. "Yes?"
"It's an excellent conductor of electricity."
Jason raised his javelin, and the ceiling exploded. A lightning bolt ripped through the roof like it was an eggshell, connected with the tip of Jason's spear, and sent out arcs of energy that blasted the sofas to shreds. Chunks of ceiling plaster crashed down. The chandelier groaned and snapped offits chain, and Midas screamed as it pinned him to the floor. The glass immediately turned into gold.
When the rumbling stopped, freezing rain poured into the building. Midas cursed in Ancient Greek, thoroughly pinned under his chandelier. The rain soaked everything, turning the gold chandelier back to glass. Piper, Estella and Leo were slowly changing too, along with the other statues in the room.
Then the front door burst open, and Coach Hedge charged in, club ready. His mouth was covered with dirt, snow, and grass.
"What'd I miss?" he asked.
"Where were you?" Jason demanded. His head was spinning from summoning the lightning bolt, and it was all he could do to keep from passing out. "I was screaming for help."
Hedge belched. "Getting a snack. Sorry. Who needs killing?"
"No one, now!" Jason said. "Just grab Leo and Piper. I'll get Estella."
"Don't leave me like this!" Midas wailed.
All around him the statues of his victims were turning to flesh—his daughter, his barber, and a whole lot of angry-looking guys with swords.
Jason grabbed Piper's golden bag and his own supplies.
Then he threw a rug over the golden statue of Lit on the throne. Hopefully that would keep the Reaper of Men from turning back to flesh—at least until after Midas's victims did.
"Let's get out of here," Jason told Hedge. "I think these guys will want some quality time with Midas."