CHAPTER XI ——
DEATH THREATS, AGAIN?

As she entered the throne room, Mare breathed out and watched her breath steam from the cold.

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 the quest members had to step carefully. It was beautiful, something that you'd see in a movie and never think could be real, except it was.

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.

Mare had assumed that they were sculptures, but was proven wrong when 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.

Mare quickly stepped forward.

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, Mare couldn't see the other end; but whatever the man said, the ice guards uncrossed their javelins.

Mare was thankful for that, it meant she didn't have to fight literal statutes— she wasn't quite sure how she'd do it. Maybe if she pushed them over like you would a cow? She wasn't certain of the semantics, would they shatter when she pushed them or were they strong ice sculptures? Would it be like the episode from Doctor Who, where they just formed again and again until eventually Victorian!Clara died?

Mare was spiralling far too much into her thoughts. She took a deep breath and focused back on the situation at hand, the likely untimely demise that they she would suffer.

"It's fine," Khione said. "My father has ordered them not to kill you just yet. "

"Tell your father we thank him," Mare replied, squinting at the mist where her father seemed to be.

"I will make sure to do that, daughter of nightmares." Khione said.

"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." Zethes paused for a moment as he looked at Mare. "Though, the redhead seems to be at home. Perhaps she could join us permanently, after she speaks to our father of course"

"Thanks," Piper grumbled.

"I've got plans later, sorry." Mare said simply.

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 Made 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.

She wondered, for the first time in a while, what her mother looked like. She wondered if Mare had gotten anything from her, she knew a lot of Gods didn't pass on their genetics to their kids, but she had to wonder.

"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 c'est Jason, fils de Zeus."

Mare raised an eyebrow.

The king smiled with pleasant surprise, and Mare wished she was able to understand what they were saying. "Vous parlez français? Très bien!"

"Piper, you speak French?" Jason asked.

Piper frowned. "No. Why?"

"You just spoke French."

Piper blinked. "I did?"

Mare nodded, "How do you not recognise that you're speaking another language?"

Jason looked at her, a 'WTF' expression on his face, and suddenly she remembered his conversation with Chiron. She shrugged her shoulders, completely unbothered.

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."

Mare was starting to like Piper a whole lot more.

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 bowed. Mare followed suit, she had enough experience with Gods to know that ass-kissing was usually the best way to not get killed on the spot. Images of Percy flashed in her mind, his fight with the God of War at the age of twelve and all the times he was saved only by the fact that Poseidon would have started a war of his son died. She fought the urge to wince. "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."

"That's nice of them, getting to know the culture and all that." Mare quipped.

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?"

Mare wanted to strangle her in that moment.