LEO AND PIPER were fast asleep when Ophelia finally woke from her involuntary nap.
She blinked at the starry sky around them, trying to remember what the sky had looked like when she'd passed out. How long had she been asleep?
She shifted, and she felt Jason move behind her, his arms tensing around her waist for a second before relaxing again.
"How long was I out?" she asked tiredly.
"Couple hours," Jason answered. "Are you okay? You passed out right after Medea's store exploded. We were worried about you."
"'M fine," Ophelia mumbled, bringing a hand up to rub her eyes. "I manifested a couple of ghosts at her place. Guess that takes a lot of energy."
Jason was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, you... you manifested ghosts? What does that mean?"
Ophelia shrugged. "I brought them into the real world long enough for them to grab Medea and help me kill her. Don't really know how, but I don't think it was the first time I've done something like that."
Jason told her what she'd missed while she was asleep, which wasn't much. Festus had managed to grab the two canary cages containing Coach Hedge and the storm spirits, and now they were following some kind of vapor trail in the air that only Jason could see, which they assumed led to Aeolus.
He also told her about Piper's strange behavior, and that made Ophelia's stomach knot with worry. She remembered the way her chest had tightened at just the possibility of her friend working—willingly or not—for an enemy. But it wasn't just a general worry or sense of betrayal, it was something familiar and awful.
As if this was a scene Ophelia already knew the lines for.
Unfortunately, Ophelia didn't get much time to wonder about her friend's weird behavior—because at that exact second, Festus dropped out of the sky for the second time in forty-eight hours.
Leo and Piper startled awake as they spiraled through the dark in a free fall, still on the dragon's back. Festus's hide was cold, his eyes dim.
"Not again!" Leo yelled. "You can't fall again!"
Leo's fingers were a blur as he tugged at wires in the back of the dragon's neck, trying to figure out the problem and fix it, but they kept plummeting—fast.
"Jason!" Leo screamed. "Take the girls and fly out of here!"
"What?"
"We need to lighten the load! I might be able to reboot Festus, but he's carrying too much weight!"
"What about you?" Piper cried. "If you can't reboot him—"
"I'll be fine," Leo yelled. "Just follow me to the ground. Go!"
It took an agonizingly long second for Jason, Piper, and Ophelia to undo their harnesses. In a flash they were gone—shooting into the air as Festus and Leo continued to fall.
Ophelia screamed in horror as something shot Festus down, tearing the metal dragon to shreds. He crashed into the yard of some kind of private compound with a horrific BOOM, Leo still on his back, and Jason was quick to follow them down.
Leo was thrown from Festus, rolling hard for a few moments before landing in the snow. The canary cages had rolled in different directions and landed on their sides, perfectly intact.
Festus wasn't so lucky.
It took a few moments for Leo to come back to his senses. He spit a clump of frozen grass out of his mouth, trying to sit up. "Where—?"
"Lie still," Piper told him, her voice watery. "You rolled pretty hard when—when Festus—"
"Where is he?" Leo sat up, squeezing his eyes shut immediately as he groaned quietly.
"Seriously, Leo," Jason said. "You could be hurt. You shouldn't—"
Leo pushed himself to his feet despite his friends' protests. Ophelia closed her eyes as he took in the wreckage. The image was already burned into her head. Festus's limbs were scattered across the lawn, his tail stuck on the fence of the compound they'd landed in. His body had broken apart and what remained of his hide was a charred, smoking pile of scraps. Only his neck and head were somewhat intact.
"No," Leo sobbed. Ophelia's heart lurched at the sound. "You can't go. You're the best thing I ever fixed."
Ophelia didn't know how to comfort him, and neither did Jason and Piper. They stood next to him, silent, hoping their presence could be some kind of comfort.
"It's not fair," Leo whimpered, breaking Ophelia's heart even more.
Festus clicked. Leo seemed to understand what the dragon was trying to say. He listened intently for a moment. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I understand. I will. I promise."
Festus's eyes went dark.
Leo cried. Jason and Piper were patting his shoulders, saying comforting words, but Ophelia knew he couldn't really hear them. He was grieving a friend, and somehow, Ophelia knew what that was like. Even if she couldn't remember why, the memory of the pain itself still lingered.
Finally, Jason said, "I'm so sorry, man. What did you promise Festus?"
Leo sniffled. He opened the dragon's head panel, revealing a cracked and burned control disk. "Something my dad told me," Leo said. "Everything can be reused."
"Your dad talked to you?" Jason asked. "When was this?"
Leo didn't answer. He worked at the dragon's neck hinges until the head was detached. He looked up at the starry sky and said to the stars, "Take him back to the bunker, Dad. Please. Until I can reuse him. I've never asked you for anything."
The wind picked up, and the dragon's head floated out of Leo's arms like it weighed nothing. Festus's head flew into the sky and disappeared.
Piper looked at Leo in amazement. "He answered you?"
"I had a dream," Leo managed to say. "Tell you later."
A large white mansion at the center of the grounds loomed over them, tall and glowing. Brick walls with lights and security cameras surrounded the perimeter. Part of Ophelia wondered if some sort of government official or celebrity lived there, given the heavy-handed security measures.
"Where are we?" Leo asked. "I mean, what city?"
"Omaha, Nebraska," Piper said. "I saw a billboard as we flew in. But I don't know what this mansion is. We came in right behind you, but as you were landing, Leo, I swear it looked like—I don't know—"
"Lasers," Leo said. He picked up a piece of dragon wreckage and threw it toward the top of the fence. Immediately a turret popped up from the brick wall and a beam of pure heat incinerated the bronze plating to ashes.
Jason whistled. "Some defense system. How are we even alive?"
"Festus," Leo said miserably. "He took the fire. The lasers sliced him to bits as he came in so they didn't focus on you. I led him into a death trap."
"You couldn't have known," Piper said. "He saved our lives again."
"But now what?" Jason said. "The main gates are locked, and I'm guessing I can't fly us out of here without getting shot down."
Leo looked up at the walkway at the big white mansion. "Since we can't go out, we'll have to go in."
❖
They would've been dead five times over if it wasn't 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 sense each of 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."
"Hey, that wasn't your—"
"Front door's locked," Leo announced. "I might have a lock pick in here."
Ophelia wasn't sure why, but she stepped forward, grabbing the doorknob. She felt the doorknob click under her palm, and when she turned it, it was unlocked.
Leo narrowed his eyes at her, then at the doorknob. "I swear it was locked when I tried it," he mumbled.
"Hermes is the god of thieves," Piper said. "Maybe it's a trick his kids have."
Ophelia shrugged, opening the door all the way. Leo walked in silently, and Ophelia went in after him, Jason and Piper close behind.
The house was dark. From the echo of their footsteps, Ophelia could tell the entry hall was huge, even bigger than Boreas's penthouse. The only light came from the yard lights outside, peeking through the breaks in the thick velvet curtains. Spaced between the ten-foot windows were life-size metal statues. As Ophelia's vision adjusted to the lack of light, she saw sofas arranged in a U-shape 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 echoing through the room.
"Don't see one," Leo said.
"Fire?" Piper asked.
Leo held out his hand, but nothing happened. "It's not working."
"Your fire is out? Why?" Piper asked.
"Well, if I knew that—"
"Okay," Ophelia said before the two could start actually fighting. There was already enough tension between all of them, they didn't need anymore. "What do we do now? Explore the creepy mansion?"
Leo shook his head. "After all those traps outside? Bad idea."
"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 quivered. "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."
No one had any better ideas, so they rolled in the cages with Coach Hedge and the storm spirits. They settled in, eating cold rations in uncomfortable silence.
Ophelia and Leo went to work on Coach Hedge's cage. Unfortunately, whatever trick Ophelia had done with the lock outside wasn't working in the room, probably for the same reason Leo's fire wasn't working.
"Can you get a lock pick kit out of your belt?" she asked Leo.
Leo pulled one out, giving Ophelia a questioning look. "You know how to pick locks?"
Ophelia shrugged. "Not sure. Guess we'll find out."
As it turned out, she did know how to pick locks. Whether it was muscle memory from learning in the past or a natural skill gifted to her by her father, she couldn't say for sure, but she went with it. As she worked slowly to pick the lock—it was more complicated than a normal lock, though how she knew that she also couldn't say for sure—Leo and Jason talked quietly amongst themselves, hopefully talking through what had happened at Medea's store.
Piper was curled up on one of the sofas, though whether she was sleeping or just avoiding talking to any of them was anybody's guess. Ophelia had to remind herself that, from what Medea had said, Piper's father was in some kind of trouble. But even that didn't quell the unease in her stomach. If Piper was keeping secrets from them...
After talking to Jason for a few minutes, Leo joined her at the canary cages. They worked in silence—Leo carefully tinkering with the cage that contained the storm spirits, trying to find a way to shrink it or build something smaller to transfer them into, Ophelia continuing to try to pick the lock of Hedge's cage. She winced as a spark flew out of the lock, as if protesting her trying to break in, but she ignored it. It was clear the cage—and the lock—were magic, but she just had to hope being a child of Hermes gave her an advantage over it.
Sunlight had started to filtering into the room when the lock finally clicked, and the cage opened.
And Coach Hedge woke up.
Ophelia scrambled back as the satyr immediately burst out of his now-open cage, screaming and running around with his club. Jason and Piper both shot awake at the sudden shouting, looking around wildly for a threat.
"Coach Hedge is awake," Leo deadpanned.
The satyr swung his club wildly, yelling, "Die!" as he viciously assaulted a tea set.
"Coach!" Jason yelled. He pulled Ophelia up from the floor, keeping a close eye on Coach Hedge.
Hedge was turning, breathing hard. His eyes looked wild, like he was ready to attack, and Ophelia wondered if unlocking the cage was the best idea.
"You're the new kids," Hedge said, lowering his club. "Jason and, uh... Cordelia?"
"Ophelia," she corrected with a scowl. "And you're welcome, by the way."
Coach Hedge looked at Leo, then Piper. "Valdez, McLean," he 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. "Die!"
"Whoa, Coach!" Leo stepped into the satyr's path, which was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. "It's okay. They're locked up. Ophelia 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," Jason continued. "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."
"Well, she's dead now," Ophelia said.
"She got not dead, then she got dead again—that's the gist," Leo explained.
Hedge nodded, his eyes narrowing. "So! You were sent on a dangerous quest to rescue me. Excellent!"
Well...
"Um." Piper got to her feet, holding her hands so Coach Hedge wouldn't attack her. "Actually, Gleeson—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 asked.
None of them had noticed before, but 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, though Ophelia hadn't noticed—appeared to be woven from 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 just some rich person's mansion in Omaha. We got away from Medea and crash-landed here."
"It's destiny, cupcakes!" Coach Hedge insisted. "I'm meant to protect you. What's the quest?"
Before anyone could answer, 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.
The man 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!"
❖