|oui, oui, baguette, bonjour|
—Camilla really 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. Camilla figured one hit from that thing would probably turn her into a Popsicle.
Then there was the ice princess. She was gorgeous. Every once in a while she'd turn and give Jason a smile, and even though it was cold, Camilla couldn't help but wish the smile was directed toward her.
Step on me, turn me into a popsicle, stab me, walk over me, literally do anything—
Piper glared at her and shook her head in disappointment as if she could read her mind.
Camilla watched Piper and Jason walk ahead, Jason's finger still holding tight onto the coin. Suddenly, Jason's right hand took Piper's left and though she raised her eyebrows, she didn't let go.
Camilla didn't have a crush on Jason. She tried to convince herself. But as much as she had spoken highly about big deal, fake memories, get over it. It wasn't actually that easy to get over it. The familiar jealousy still sparked up.
At the top of the stairs, the ice princess looked back and noticed Jason and Piper holding hands. Her smile faded. Jason let go of Piper's hand like it burnt him, which it may have since there was frost smoking from their hands.
Camilla was already smitten with the Ice princess and now this? Gods, this goddess was looking hotter (not temperature wise) by the second.
"Warmth is not a good idea here," the princess advised, "especially when I am your best chance of staying alive. Please, this way."
Camilla hesitated for a second and Zethes poked her in the back with his icicle sword, and they followed the princess down a massive hallway decked in frosty tapestries.
Freezing winds moved back and forth and Camilla wrapped her jacket tighter around her.
In front of her, Piper and Jason still looked chummy.
"Hey." Piper touched his arm. "You still with me?"
"Yeah... yeah, sorry." Jason let his eyes gloss over Piper's features. "You're losing the Aphrodite blessing" He blurted out.
Camilla rolled her eyes. Oh my gods, could they get a room, please?
But he was right, Piper's makeup was fading. Her hair was slowly going back to its old choppy style with the little braids down the sides.
"It makes you look more real and more..." Jason trailed off, red dusting his cheeks.
No wonder Piper had internalized misogyny if she was surrounded by men like these. Camilla bet Jason was thinking that Piper wasn't like other girls and that she looked better without make-up. Camilla and Zethes shared a disgusted look and then she paused— did she just share a look with the enemy???
Gods, Jason was making her go insane.
He had officially given her the ick.
Piper didn't say anything, though she looked pleased at whatever Jason might have said. Seriously, she could do so much better.
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. Camilla was pretty sure she'd seen maps like this before. But in this version, all the wind guys were Winter, blowing ice and snow from every corner of the world.
The princess turned. Her brown eyes glittered, and Camilla felt like she was a Christmas present she was hoping to open.
"This is the throne room," she said. "Be on your best behavior, demigods. 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."
Camilla guessed this girl's definition of fun was not the same as hers, but still she attempted a smile directed at her.
"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. Camilla 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 Camilla 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 Camilla 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 Jason's 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, Camilla 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," Camilla muttered.
Zethes prodded Jason 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 Camilla 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. Camilla hoped so.
"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. Et ce sont Jason, fils de Zeus, et Camilla, fille d'Eris."
The king smiled with pleasant surprise. "Vous parlez français? Très bien!"
"You speak French" Camilla blurted. What the fuck was that and why was that so hot?
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 Jason decided it would be a good idea to bow. "Your Majesty, I'm Jason Grace. 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?"
Camilla tensed. The king was still smiling amiably, like he'd just delivered great news.
"Kill us?" She said. "Why?"
"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. Camilla, 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. Children of Eris however... are how do you say...? Tricky. You cause me too much trouble. I have no fondness for you, Romani. And as for you, Jason Grace, my master Aeolus would not expect me to kill a son of Lord Zeus... without first hearing you out."
Camilla didn't like the way this guy said her last name.
"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, Camilla 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," Piper said, "the gods had no choice but to battle Typhon. He was going to destroy Olympus! Besides, why punish demigods for that?"
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," Camilla 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."
Camilla almost felt like she could breathe again, "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.
Piper made a strangled noise. "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 Camilla and put her cold fingers on her neck. "My father gives me such lovely presents," she murmured in her ear. "Join our court. Perhaps I'll let your friends go."
Camilla was about to agree and say something stupid like, Absolutely, anything you want.
"What?" Zethes broke in. "If Khione gets this one, then I deserve the other girl. 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."
Khione purred and stroked her neck. Camilla wasn't sure when her touches went from omg she's beautiful to okay it's getting creepy now. Jason saw the slight change in her expression. He caught her eye and maybe that's where a lot went wrong.
Bad things happened when people were around her. They seemed to lose all sense of right and wrong. Just giving into conflict.
Electricity sparked along Jason's fingers. There was loud pop, and Khione flew backward, skidding across the floor, away from Camilla.
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—"
"Yes, I dare—" Jason fumed, "Get your hands off my friend, we're not here for you"
"Foolish demigod" Khione shook her head, "I will not let this insult go easily, you don't know what mistake you've made"
"Big words coming from a goddess lying on the floor, overpowered in her own realm" Piper spoke up, crossing her arms across her chest.
Behind them, Boreas' expression grew cloudy like he was starting to like the demigods less and less.
The ice statues started moving and Camilla did not want to wait around to see the kind of damage they could cause.
Shit, maybe bringing Camilla along hadn't been the best plan. Maybe she should have stayed back with Leo. All she ever did was escalate situations and fuck up friendships. This was the time to be diplomatic, but maybe just her presence was enough to make everything fall apart.
If she could make things fall into chaos, maybe she could piece them back together as well.
It was a half baked, no thought given idea. But it was all she had.
"Stop," She ordered, "I apologize for my friends, it's my fault they're this way right now. Please don't let it get to you. As for you, lord Boreas, 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."
She sounded a lot more confident than she felt, but it got their attention. Khione's blizzard swirled to a stop. Zethes lowered his sword. The ice statues stilled in place. Everyone looked uncertainly at Boreas.
"Hmm," Boreas said. His eyes twinkled, but Camilla couldn't tell if it was with anger or amusement. "A son of Zeus, favored by Hera? A daughter of Eris with skills of diplomacy. This is definitely a first. Tell us your story."
Camilla would've botched it right there. She hadn't been expecting to get the chance to talk, and now that she could, her voice abandoned her.
Piper saved him. "Your Majesty." She curtsied again with incredible poise, considering her life was on the line, Camilla noticed she did it quite nicely. She told Boreas the whole story, from the Grand Canyon to the prophecy, much better and faster than Jason or Camilla could have. Her voice was like honey, drawing them in. It was the kind of voice you could fall asleep listening to.
Camilla had to wonder about her singing voice as well, if Piper was this good at story telling, how much better was she at singing? Camilla wouldn't mind listening to Piper sing.
"All we ask for is guidance," Piper 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?" Camilla 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 Camilla'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."
Camilla wasn't sure what all this meant, but she didn't like the way Khione was smiling—like this was her definition of fun. A couple minutes ago, Camilla had been head over heels and now the fog in front of her eyes was clearing.
"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— blessing of Aphrodite or not, Camilla didn't give a shit. Piper was beautiful either way, but this way, she looked comfortable in her own skin. Camilla wished one day she wouldn't hate anything feminine and denounce it. Maybe she would see that building others up was better than tearing them down. She almost glowed with warmth in that cold throne room. "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. Camilla slipped her hand onto the grip of her new Spatha. She had never trained with the weapon, but she figured, how hard could it be? Just stabby stabby.
The movement caught Boreas's eye. "What weapon do you wield, demigod?"
Camilla pulled out her sword and held it up so the god could see. "Uh, this smart girl called Annabeth called it a Sparta—"
"Spatha" Piper corrected. Boreas and Khione breathed in sharply in disbelief.
"And you? What marks do you bear?" Boreas gestured with his chin. Jason's coat sleeve had gotten pushed up, revealing the edge of his tattoo as he gripped his coin/sword/spear. 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 and Camilla's—hung at his side.
"Aquilon," Jason said and Camilla wanted to say yes, yes, yes. This is right. Discordia not Eris, Jupiter not Zeus, Aquilon not Boreas.
The god inclined his head. "You recognize me 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, Romani," Piper said nervously, "why did Boreas change shape? The toga, the wreath. What's going on?"
"It's his Roman form," Camilla 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."
Camilla felt as if Khione's cold fingers were on her neck again, but it wasn't the goddess—it was just the feeling that Aquilon was right. That sense of wrongness which had bothered Camilla since she got to Camp Half-Blood— Boreas knew what they meant.
"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," Camilla 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, daughter of Discordia."
Discordia, Camilla noticed. Before, he called me child of Eris.
"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.
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, Camilla Romani, I will see you as a statue in the throne room soon enough."
"Boreas is right," Jason said, intervening in case he thought Camilla might just say something dumb and gay. "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?"
Camilla had a feeling Khione could do so much worse.
Leo looked at Camilla and wiggled his eyebrows. "What happened up there? Does Cam have a new crush? What's going on, huh?"
"We'll explain later," Piper promised, she and Camilla glanced at Jason. If anyone had to have some idea of what was going on, it had to be him.
What had happened up there? Camilla wasn't sure. Boreas had turned into Aquilon, his Roman form, as if Jason and Camilla's presence caused him to go schizophrenic.
The idea that Jason had been sent to Camp Half-Blood seemed to amuse the god, but Boreas/Aquilon hadn't let them go out of kindness. Cruel excitement had danced in his eyes, as if he'd just placed a bet on a dogfight.
You will tear each other apart, he'd said with delight. Aeolus will never have to worry about demigods again.
Jason looked away, "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 two would make a lovely ice statue, in which I could check my reflection."
"Thanks," Piper said. "But I'd sooner play hockey with Cal."
"Hockey?" Cal's eyes lit up.
"Joking," Piper said. "And 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 Piper into an ice sculpture.
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." Camilla stared out at the dark. She was anxious to get out of that cold penthouse, but she had a feeling it was the most hospitable place they'd see for a while. "Let's go to Chicago and try not to get destroyed."
Camilla losing her shit when Piper speaks French is so real (I'm gonna fail my french midterms)