HIKING WAS NEVER Blaire's forte. She'd always been an avid hater of walking for extended periods of time, no matter how urgent the situation was. The trek to Aleous' palace was absolutely no exception. In fact, it was the most agitating hike she'd ever been forced to endure.

  It was all uphill, considering a steep flight of stairs was what seperated them from the fortress. And the steps were slippery with ice, causing Blaire to stumble every so often. Ahead of her, Jason was carrying the bag of wind spirits, grumbling to himself. Beside him, Leo was swatting at his legs as he went, making sure they wouldn't catch fire omce more.

The only one who seemed in a good mood was Coach Hedge. He kept bounding up the slippery staircase and trotting back down. "Come on, cupcakes! Only a few thousand more steps!"

Frankly, it was a treacherous journey. And Blairw was incredibly relieved when they'd finally made it to the top of the island. Bronze walls marched all the way around the fortress grounds, though Blaire couldn't imagine who could possibly have the dedication to attack this place. Twenty- foot-high gates opened for them, and a road of polished purple stone led up to the main citadel—a white-columned rotunda, Greek style, like one of the monuments in Washington, D.C. —except for the cluster of satellite dishes and radio towers on the roof.

"That's bizarre," Piper muttered in awe.

Blaire had to agree. She'd never seen anything quite like it.

"Guess you can't get cable on a floating island," Leo joked. "Dang, check this guy's front yard."

The rotunda sat in the center of a quarter-mile circle. The grounds were amazing in a scary way. They were divided into four sections like big pizza slices, each one representing a season.

The section on their right was an icy waste, with bare trees and a frozen lake. Snowmen rolled across the landscape as the wind blew, so it was hard to be sure wether they were alive or not.

To their left was an autumn park with gold and red trees. Mounds of leaves blew into patterns—gods, people, animals that ran after each other before scattering back into leaves.

In the distance, Jason could see two more areas behind the rotunda. One looked like a green pasture with sheep made out of clouds. The last section was a desert where tumbleweeds scratched strange patterns in the sand like Greek letters, smiley faces, and a huge advertisement that read: watch aeolus nightly!

"One section for each of the four wind gods," Jason guessed. "Four cardinal directions."

"I'm loving that pasture." Coach Hedge licked his lips, nearly drooling at the sight of the grass. "You guys mind—"

"Go ahead," Jason told the Satyr, looking around at his friends knowingly. It was a relief the Satyr excused himself, for it would be hard to get on Aleous' good side with Hedge waving his club and screaming "Die!"

While the satyr ran off to attack springtime, Jason, Leo, Piper, and Blaire walked down the road to the steps of the palace. They passed through the front doors into a white marble foyer decorated with purple banners that read olympian weather channel, and some that just read ow!

"Hello!" A woman floated up to them. Literally floated. She was pretty in that elfish way Blaire associated with nature spirits at Camp Half-Blood—petite, slightly pointy ears, and an ageless face that could've been sixteen or thirty. Her brown eyes twinkled cheerfully. Even though there was no wind, her dark hair blew in slow motion, shampoo-commercial style. Her white gown billowed around her like parachute material. They couldn't tell if she had feet, but if so, they didn't touch the floor. She had a white tablet computer in her hand. "Are you from Lord Zeus?" she asked. "We've been expecting you."

Jason started to anwser, but soon began stammering over his own words. At first, Blaire didn't understand why, then she followed his gaze. He was staring straight through the woman— literally. Becasue she was see through.

Her shape faded in and out like she was made of fog.

"Are you a ghost?" Jason asked smartly.

In the moment, Blaire swore she'd never met someone with less common sense than Jason. It was obvious he'd insulted the impish lady. Her smile turned into a pout.

"I'm an aura, sir. A wind nymph, as you might expect, working for the lord of the winds. My name is Mellie. We don't have ghosts."

Piper came to the rescue. "No, of course you don't! My friend simply mistook you for Helen of Troy, the most beautiful mortal of all time. It's an easy mistake."

Wow, she was good. The compliment seemed a little over the top, but Mellie the aura blushed. "Oh ... well, then. So you are from Zeus?"

"Er," Jason said, "I'm the son of Zeus, yeah."

Excellent! Please, right this way." She led them through some security doors into another lobby, consulting her tablet as she floated. She didn't look where she was going, but apparently it didn't matter as she drifted straight through a marble column with no problem. "We're out of prime time now, so that's good," she mused. "I can fit you in right before his 11:12 spot."

"Um, okay," Jason mumbled.

So they did. They followed her through the palace, into the crowded lobby. It was a pretty distracting place. Winds blasted around them, so Blaire felt like she was pushing through an invisible crowd. Doors blew open and slammed by themselves.

The things Blaire could see were just as bizarre. Paper airplanes of all different sizes and shapes sped around, and other wind nymphs, aurai, would occasionally pluck them out of the air, unfold and read them, then toss them back into the air, where the planes would refold themselves and keep flying.

An ugly Harpy flew by, and Blaire had to supress her laughter. Camp Half-blood had employed Harpys to watch over the grounds at night, make sure no camper's were out after curfew. And to clean the perimeters. Still, every time Blaire saw one she giggled like it was her first encounter with the species.

"Not an aura?" Jason, who was obviously confused, asked Mellie as the creature wobbled by.

Mellie laughed. "That's a harpy, of course. Our, ah, ugly stepsisters, I suppose you would say. Don't you have harpies on Olympus? They're spirits of violent gusts, unlike us aurai. We're all gentle breezes."

Mellie batted her eyes at Jason. Piper scoffed from beside Blaire.

"'Course you are," Jason agreed.

"So," Piper prompted, "you were taking us to see Aeolus?"

Mellie led them through a set of doors like an airlock. Above the interior door, a green light blinked.

"We have a few minutes before he starts," Mellie said cheerfully. "He probably won't kill you if we go in now. Come along!"

"Probably?" Blaire repeated, eyes wide.

Alot of things stood out about Aleous' studio; the soaring domed roof covered in silver. The television equipment that floated randomly through the air —cameras, spotlights, set pieces, potted plants. But mostly, the lack of a floor.

Leo would've fallen into the dark chasm if it weren't for Blaire, who shot out and grabbed the hood of his coat before he could plummet. She seemed to have noticed the lack of flooring before any of the others.

"Holy—!" Leo gulped. "Hey, Mellie. A little warning next time!"

An enormous circular pit plunged into the heart of the mountain. It was probably half a mile deep, honeycombed with caves. Some of the tunnels probably led straight outside. Blaire remembered seeing winds blast out of them when they'd been on Pikes Peak. Other caves were sealed with some glistening material like glass or wax. The whole cavern bustled with harpies,aurai, and paper airplanes, but for someone who couldn't fly, it would be a very long, very fatal fall.

"Oh, my," Mellie gasped. "I'm so sorry." She unclipped a walkie-talkie from somewhere inside her robes and spoke into it: "Hello, sets? Is that Nuggets? Hi, Nuggets. Could we get a floor in the main studio, please? Yes, a solid one. Thanks."

A few seconds later, an army of harpies rose from the pit —three dozen or so demon chicken ladies, all carrying squares of various building material. They went to work hammering and gluing—and using large quantities of duct tape, which didn't reassure Blaire. In no time there was a makeshift floor snaking out over the chasm. It was made of plywood, marble blocks, carpet squares, wedges of grass sod —just about anything.

"This can't be safe," Jason complained.

"Oh, it is!" Mellie assured him. "The harpies are very good. "

Considering she was able to drift over the makeshift floor without even touching it, Blaire wasn't too sure of her reassurances.

Jason, considering he could fly, stepped out first. And to all of their suprise, the floor held. He didn't fall through.

The rest of them followed his lead, stepping onto the newly established surface. Piper took his hand, standing rather close to him.

"If I fall, you're catching me."

"Uh, sure," Jason stammered.

Blaire scowled at the back of their heads. "If I fall, just let me die. I'm not holding your hand."

Leo laughed and nudged her side. "Ditto."

Mellie led them toward the middle of the chamber, where a loose sphere of flat-panel video screens floated around a kind of control center. A man hovered inside, checking monitors and reading paper airplane messages.

The man paid them no attention as Mellie brought them forward. She pushed a forty-two-inch Sony out of their way and led them into the control area.

Leo whistled appreciatevly. "I got to get a room like this."

The floating screens showed all sorts of television programs. Some Blaire recognized—news broadcasts, mostly —but some programs looked a little strange: gladiators fighting, demigods battling monsters. Maybe they were movies, but they looked more like reality shows.

Blaire shook her head— just as she predicted, the gods watched innocents suffer as a form of amusement. It served as mere background noise for them, something they wouldn't recall within an hour. While for the victims, it was something they would never forget, something that ruined their life.

She wondered if she'd ever showed up on one of these screens.

At the far end of the sphere was a silky blue backdrop like a cinema screen, with cameras and studio lights floating around it.

The man in the center was talking into an earpiece phone. He had a remote control in each hand and was pointing them at various screens, seemingly at random.

He wore a business suit that looked like the sky—blue mostly, but dappled with clouds that changed and darkened and moved across the fabric. He looked like he was in his sixties, with a shock of white hair, but he had a ton of stage makeup on, and that smooth plastic-surgery look to his face, so he appeared not really young, not really old, just wrong—like a Ken doll someone had halfway melted in a microwave. His eyes darted back and forth from screen to screen, like he was trying to absorb everything at once. He muttered things into his phone, and his mouth kept twitching. He was either amused, or crazy, or both.

  Mellie floated toward him, the teenagers following in pursuit. "Ah, sir, Mr. Aeolus, these demigods—"

  "Hold it!" He held up a hand to silence her, then pointed at one of the screens, ignoring his company. "Watch!"

  It was one of those storm-chaser programs, where insane thrill-seekers drive after tornados. As they  watched on, a Jeep plowed straight into a funnel cloud and got tossed into the sky.

   Aeolus shrieked with delight. "The Disaster Channel. People do that on purpose!" He turned toward Jason with a mad grin. "Isn't that amazing? Let's watch it again."

  "Um, sir," Mellie interrupted sheepishly, "this is Jason, son of—"

  "Yes, yes, I remember," Aeolus scoffed. "You're back. How did it go?"

  Jason hesitated. "Sorry? I think you've mistaken me—"

  "No, no, Jason Grace, aren't you? It was—what—last year? You were on your way to fight a sea monster, I believe."

  Though she guessed Jason had a demigodly past before his mysterious appearance at Camp, she was sure now. Aleous had just confirmed those suspicions. Now, she couldn't help but ponder on the possibilities of his past. Where did be come from? Who was he before?

  "I—I don't remember," Jason admitted helplessly, furrowing his eyebrows as if deep in conversation.

  Aelous laughed. "Must not have been a very good sea monster! No, I remember every hero who's ever come to me for aid. Odysseus—gods, he docked at my island for a month! At least you only stayed a few days. Now, watch this video. These ducks get sucked straight into—"

  "Sir," Mellie interjected kindly. As she'd promised, she really was a gentle breeze. "Two minutes to air."

  "Air!" Aeolus exclaimed giddily, rubbing his hands together in glee. "I love air. How do I look? Makeup!"

   Immediately a small tornado of brushes, blotters, and cotton balls descended on Aeolus. They blurred across his face in a cloud of flesh-tone smoke until his coloration was even more gruesome than before. Wind swirled through his hair and left it sticking up like a frosted Christmas tree.

  The demigods stood tensely alongside one another, watching with wide eyes. No matter how long they'd been half-bloods, wether it be ten years or two weeks, they never truly got used to it's terrific wonder. And no matter what they saw, there was still more left to see— to surprise them.

  "Mr. Aeolus." Jason shook himself from his flabbergasted daze, slipping off the golden backpack. "We brought you these rogue storm spirits."

  "Did you!" Aeolus looked at the bag like it was a gift from a fan—something he really didn't want. "Well, how nice."

  Leo nudged him, urging the boy to hamd the bag over. So he did. "Boreas sent us to capture them for you. We hope you'll accept them and stop—you know—ordering demigods to be killed."

  Aeolus laughed, and looked incredulously at Mellie. "Demigods be killed—did I order that?"

  Mellie checked her computer tablet. "Yes, sir, fifteenth of September. 'Storm spirits released by the death of Typhon, demigods to be held responsible,' etc... yes, a general order for them all to be killed."

"Oh, pish," Aeolus waved her off. "I was just grumpy. Rescind that order, Mellie, and um, who's on guard duty—Teriyaki?—Teri, take these storm spirits down to cell block Fourteen E, will you?"

  A harpy swooped out of nowhere, Blaire had to bite her tounge to keep in her laughter— and snatched the golden bag, then spiraled into the abyss.

  Aeolus grinned at Jason. "Now, sorry about that kill-on- sight business. But gods, I really was mad, wasn't I?" His face suddenly darkened, and his suit did the same, the lapels flashing with lightning. "You know ... I remember now. Almost seemed like a voice was telling me to give that order. A little cold tingle on the back of my neck."

   "A ... um, voice in your head, sir?" Jason visibily tensed.

  "Yes. How odd. Mellie,should we kill them?"

  "No, sir," she tried patiently. "They just brought us the storm spirits, which makes everything all right."

  "Of course." Aeolus laughed. "Sorry. Mellie, let's send the demigods something nice. A box of chocolates, perhaps."

   Was this man out of his mind?

  "A box of chocolates to every demigod in the world, sir?"

  "No, too expensive. Never mind. Wait, it's time! I'm on!"

  Aeolus flew off toward the blue screen as newscast music started to play. Jason made eye contact with each of his friends and Blaire, sharing skeptical thoughts.

  "Mellie," Jason began, "is he ... always like that?

  She smiled sheepishly. "Well, you know what they say. If you don't like his mood, wait five minutes. That expression 'whichever way the wind blows'—that was based on him."

  "And that thing about the sea monster," Jason interrogated. "Was I here before?"

  He sounded so helpless, as if knowing this would bring him some sort of clarity. Blaire nearly felt bad for him. Then, she remembered what he'd said about her back at the warehouse.

  Mellie blushed. "I'm sorry, I don't remember. I'm Mr. Aeolus's new assistant. I've been with him longer than most, but still—not that long."

  "How long do his assistants usually last?" Piper asked.

  "Oh ..." Mellie thought for a moment. "I've been doing this for ... twelve hours?"

  A voice blared from floating speakers: "And now, weather every twelve minutes! Here's your forecaster for Olympian Weather—the OW! channel—Aeolus!"

  Lights blazed on Aeolus, who was now standing in front of the blue screen. His smile was unnaturally white, and he looked like he'd had so much caffeine his face was about to explode.

  "Hello, Olympus! Aeolus, master of the winds here, with weather every twelve! We'll have a low-pressure system moving over Florida today, so expect milder temperatures since Demeter wishes to spare the citrus farmers!" He gestured at the blue screen, but when Blaire checked the monitors, she saw that a digital image was being projected behind Aeolus, so it looked like he was standing in front of a U.S. map with animated smiley suns and frowny storm clouds. "Along the eastern seaboard—oh, hold on." He tapped his earpiece. "Sorry, folks! Poseidon is angry with Miami today, so it looks like that Florida freeze is back on! Sorry, Demeter. Over in the Midwest, I'm not sure what St. Louis did to offend Zeus, but you can expect winter storms! Boreas himself is being called down to punish the area with ice. Bad news, Missouri! No, wait. Hephaestus feels sorry for central Missouri, so you all will have much more moderate temperatures and sunny skies."
 
   Aeolus kept going like that—forecasting each area of the country and changing his prediction two or three times as he got messages over his earpiece—the gods apparently putting in orders for various winds and weather.

  "This can't be right," Jason whispered. "Weather isn't this random."

  Blaire scoffed. It was obvious Jason didn't watch the mortal news. Weatherman were never correct.

    Mellie smirked. "And how often are the mortal weathermen right? They talk about fronts and air pressure and moisture, but the weather surprises them all the time. At least Aeolus tells us why it's so unpredictable. Very hard job, trying to appease all the gods at once. It's enough to drive anyone ..."

  Mad. Blaire she knew meant mad because a demigod's life was full of nothing but desperate attempts to earn the gods admiration. And she'd too gone mad. Just not to this degree.

  "And that's the weather," Aeolus concluded. "See you in twelve minutes, because I'm sure it'll change!"

  The lights shut off, the video monitors went back to random coverage, and just for a moment, Aeolus's face sagged with weariness. Then he seemed to remember he had guests, and he put a smile back on.

  "So, you brought me some rogue storm spirits," Aeolus said. "I suppose ... thanks! And did you want something else? I assume so. Demigods always do."

  Mellie sighed, "Um, sir, this is Zeus's son."

  "Yes, yes. I know that. I said I remembered him from before."

  "But, sir, they're here from Olympus."

  Aeolus looked stunned. Then he laughed so abruptly, Blaire couldn't help but flinch. "You mean you're here on behalf of your father this time? Finally! I knewthey would send someone to renegotiate my contract!"

  "Um, what?" Jason murmured, earning a series of nods from his friends.

  "Oh, thank goodness!" Aeolus sighed with relief. "It's been what, three thousand years since Zeus made me master of the winds. Not that I'm ungrateful, of course! But really, my contract is so vague. Obviously I'm immortal, but 'master of the winds.' What does that mean? Am I a nature spirit? A demigod? A god? I want to be god of the winds, because the benefits are so much better. Can we start with that?"

   Blaire raised both of her eyebrows. Did he think they were here to give him a pay raise?

  "Dude," Leo laughed, "you think we're here to promote you?"

  "You are, then?" Aeolus grinned. His business suit turned completely blue—not a cloud in the fabric. "Marvelous! I mean, I think I've shown quite a bit of initiative with the weather channel, eh? And of course I'm in the press all the time. So many books have been written about me: Into Thin Air, Up in the Air, Gone with the Wind—"

  "Those books have nothing to do with—-" Blaire began but stopped herself when she caught sight of Mellie frantically shaking her head in warning.

  "Nonsense," Aeolus protested with a forced laugh. "Mellie, they're biographies of me, aren't they?"

  "Absolutely, sir," she squeaked in response.

  "There, you see? I don't read. Who has time? But obviously the mortals love me. So, we'll change my official title to god of the winds. Then, about salary and staff—"

  "Sir," Jason stopped his rambling, "we're not from Olympus."

   Aeolus blinked. "But—"

  "I'm the son of Zeus, yes," Jason confirmed, "but we're not here to negotiate your contract. We're on a quest and we need your help."

  Aeolus's expression hardened into one of pure hatred. "Like last time? Like every hero who comes here? Demigods! It's always about you, isn't it?"

   It was ironic, a god talking about the selfishness of demigods when the diety's were nothing but selfish. It made Blaire angry— how could someone like him have the nerve to speak on such a topic.

  "Sir, please," Jason pleaded. "I don't remember last time, but if you helped me once before—"

  "I'm always helping! Well, sometimes I'm destroying, but mostly I'm helping, and sometimes I'm asked to do both at the same time! Why, Aeneas, the first of your kind—"

  "My kind?" Jason quiered. "You mean, demigods?"

  "Oh, please!" Aeolus shouted, his voice suddenly trembling with fury. "I mean your line of demigods. You know, Aeneas, son of Venus—the only surviving hero of Troy. When the Greeks burned down his city, he escaped to Italy, where he founded the kingdom that would eventually become Rome, blah, blah, blah. That's what I meant."

  Was Aleous trying to say Jason was Roman? Not a son of Zues— but a son of Jupiter.

  "I don't get it," Jason admitted.

  Aeolus rolled his eyes. "The point being, I was thrown in the middle of that conflict, too! Juno calls up: 'Oh, Aeolus, destroy Aeneas's ships for me. I don't like him.' Then Neptune says, 'No, you don't! That's my territory. Calm the winds.' Then Juno is like, 'No, wreck his ships, or I'll tell Jupiter you're uncooperative!' Do you think it's easy juggling requests like that?"

  "No," Jason agreed. "I guess not."

  "And don't get me started on Amelia Earhart! I'm still getting angry calls from Olympus about knocking her out of the sky!"

  "Amelia Earheart?" Blaire heard Leo mutter from beside her.

  We just want information," Piper finally spoke up in her most calming voice. "We hear you know everything."

  Aeolus straightened his lapels and looked slightly mollified. "Well ... that's true, of course. For instance, I know that this business here"—he waggled his fingers at the three of them—"this harebrained scheme of Juno's to bring you all together is likely to end in bloodshed. As for you, Piper McLean, I know your father is in serious trouble." He held out his hand, and a scrap of paper fluttered into his grasp. It was a photo of Piper with a guy who must've been her dad. The slight similarities between the two brought Blaire to this conclusion.

  Piper took the photo. Her hands were shaking terribly, as was her voice. "This—this is from his wallet."

  "Yes," Aeolus confirmed. "All things lost in the wind eventually come to me. The photo blew away when the Earthborn captured him."

  "The what?" Piper managed. She was pale, and she looked sicker than she did when she was suffering from hypothermia.

  Aeolus waved aside the question and narrowed his eyes at Leo. "Now, you, son of Hephaestus ... yes, I see your future." Another paper fell into the wind god's hands—an old tattered drawing done in crayons.

  Leo took it wearily as if it might be coated in fatal poison. He staggered backward dramatically, and his eyes grew wide as saucers. He too looked ill. Blaire couldn't help but wonder what was so flabbergasting about the aforementioned drawing.

  "What is it, Valdez?" Blaire questioned, taking a step toward him. She tried to glance over his shoulder at the doodle, but he quickly moved it from her line of sight.

Aleous laughed, cruelty evident within the sound. Then, he turned on Blaire, narrowing his eyes at the girl. "And you, Cursed Daughter of Hecate, I know all about you."

Blaire didn't shrink away from him as he'd probably expected. Instead, she stood tall. "Oh, yeah?"

Again, the wind summoned another scrap of paper, dropping it into the God's hands. He smirked at it, then handed it forward to the Sullivan girl. Wearily, she took it, not aware of it's meaning at first. However, the second she turned it over, she stammered backwards and nearly dropped the paper. Her legs felt like they could give out beneath her.

It was an obituary. For Olivia Kingsley.

The face of the grinning girl stared back at her. More than likely a school picture, for she was wearing a prestigious uniform and was posed infront of a grey backdrop.

Above the photograph, it read. Olivia Kingsey. Feburary 23rd, 1992 - August 19th, 2007. Beneath the photo, a sappy inspirational quote was drawn out. Though Blaire's vision had began to grow blurry, so she couldn't read it properly.

"Who is that, Blaire?" Piper wondered, "Did you know her?"

"Blaire knew her, alright," Aleous tutted with a shake of head. "Tell them."

Blaire's head was spinning. She'd taken Olivia's life. It was her fault. Olivia was gone. She was a killer.

"Stop," She managed, crumpling up the paper with trembling hands.

Aeolus laughed at the girl's dismay, while the other merely stared in bewilderment, they'd never seen her look so vunrable. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, you wanted information. Are you sure about that? Sometimes information can be dangerous."

He smiled at Jason like he was issuing a challenge. Behind him, Mellie shook her head again in warning.

"Yeah," Jason bellowed. "We need to find the lair of Enceladus."

Blaire was still reeling from the obituary. Olivia's mortal family had put it together, along with a funeral for her. They didn't know what Olivia had done. All they knew was that she perished at the hand of someone who she called a friend.

Aeolus's smile melted. "The giant? Why would you want to go there? He's horrible! He doesn't even watch my program!"

Piper held up the photo. "Aeolus, he's got my father. We need to rescue him and find out where Hera is being held captive."

"Now, that's impossible," Aeolus told them. "Even I can't see that, and believe me, I've tried. There's a veil of magic over Hera's location—very strong, impossible to locate."

"She's at a place called the Wolf House," Jason recalled.

"Hold on!" Aelous put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "I'm getting something! Yes, she's at a place called the Wolf House! Sadly, I don't know where that is."

"Enceladus does," Piper persisted. "If you help us find him, we could get the location of the goddess—"

"Yeah," Leo added, catching on. "And if we save her, she'd be really grateful to you—"

"And Zeus might promote you," Jason finished.

While her questmates were busy trying to persuade the god, Blaire was still stunned into silence. She felt like she wasn't able to talk, like the vocal chords had been ripped from her throat. Blaire hadn't done anything but complain and expect them to help her. She was useless. And she was a killer.

Aeolus's eyebrows crept up. "A promotion—and all you want from me is the giant's location?"

"Well, if you could get us there, too," Jason amended, "that would be great."

Mellie clapped her hands in excitement. "Oh, he could do that! He often sends helpful winds—"

  "Mellie, quiet!" Aeolus snapped. "I have half a mind to fire you for letting these people in under false pretenses."

  Her face paled. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

  "It wasn't her fault," Jason said. "But about that help ..."

  Aelous tilted his head as if thinking. Then Blaire realized the wind lord was listening to voices in his earpiece.

  "Well ... Zeus approves," Aeolus muttered. "He says ... he says it would be better if you could avoid saving her until after the weekend, because he has a big party planned—Ow! That's Aphrodite yelling at him, reminding him that the solstice starts at dawn. She says I should help you. And Hephaestus...
yes. Hmm. Very rare they agree on anything. Hold on ..."

  What about Hecate? Did she stay silent? After everything, she didn't come to her daughters help. Blaire was powerful, she supposedly weilded the power of every titan's domain, but she wouldn't even speak up in support of her daughter.

   Back toward the entrance, a loud belch sounded. Coach Hedge waddled in from the lobby, grass all over his face. Mellie saw him coming across the makeshift floor and caught her breath. "Who is that?"

  Jason stifled a cough. "That? That's just Coach Hedge. Uh, Gleeson Hedge. He's our ..." Jason hesitated as if unsure what to call him. "...Our guide?"

  "He's so goatly," Mellie murmured in apparent awe.

  Behind her, Piper poofed out her cheeks, pretending to vomit.

  "What's up, guys?" Hedge trotted over. "Wow, nice place. Oh! Sod squares."

  "Coach, you just ate," Jason scolded. "And we're using the sod as a floor. This is, ah, Mellie—"

  "An aura." Hedge smiled winningly. "Beautiful as a summer breeze."

  A blush blossomed high on Mellie's cheeks.

  "And Aeolus here was just about to help us," Jason reminded him hopefully.

  "Yes," the wind lord muttered. "It seems so. You'll find Enceladus on Mount Diablo."

  "Devil Mountain?" Leo translated, furrowing his dark eyebrows. "That doesn't sound good."

  "I remember that place!" Piper exclaimed. "I went there once with my dad. It's just east of San Francisco Bay."

  "The Bay Area again?" The coach shook his head. "Not good. Not good at all."

  "Now ..." Aeolus began to smile. "As to getting you there—"

  Suddenly his face went slack. He bent over and tapped his earpiece as if it were malfunctioning. When he straightened again, his eyes were wild. Despite the makeup, he looked like an old man—an old, very frightened man. "She hasn't spoke to me for centuries. I can't—yes, yes I understand."

  He swallowed, regarding Jason as if he had suddenly turned into a giant cockroach. "I'm sorry, son of Jupiter. New orders. You all have to die."

  They all backed away in fear, even his assistant, Mellie. The rapid change in his mood was very concerning, and quite frankly terryfying.

  Mellie squeaked. "But—but, sir! Zeus said to help them. Aphrodite, Hephaestus—"

  "Mellie!" Aeolus snapped. "Your job is already on the line. Besides, there are some orders that transcend even the wishes of the gods, especially when it comes to the forces of nature."

  "Whose orders?" Jason interrogated. "Zeus will fire you if you don't help us!"

  "I doubt it." Aeolus flicked his wrist, and far below them, a cell door opened in the pit. Blaire could hear storm spirits screaming out of it, spiraling up toward them, howling for blood.

  "Even Zeus understands the order of things," Aeolus said. "And if she is waking—by all the gods—she cannot be denied. Good-bye, heroes. I'm terribly sorry, but I'll have to make this quick. I'm back on the air in four minutes."

  Jason summoned his sword. Coach Hedge pulled out his club. Mellie the aura yelled, "No!"

  Blaire fiddled with her bracelet, turning it into it's sword form, though with the recent reminder of what she'd once done with a sword, it felt malicous in her grip. She hardly trusted herself to hold it.

  Then, Mellie dived at their feet just as the storm spirits hit with hurricane force, blasting the floor to pieces, shredding the carpet samples and marble and linoleum into what should've been lethal projectiles, had Mellie's robes not spread out like a shield and absorbed the brunt of the impact. The six of them fell into the pit, and Aeolus screamed above them, "Mellie, you are so fired!"

  "Quick," Mellie yelled. "Son of Zeus, do you have any power over the air?"

  "A little!"

  As she fell through the air, Blaire closed her eyes, utterly terrified. Behind them, the storm spirit's were rushing toward them with a cloud of deadly shrapnel.

  "Then help me, or you're all dead!" Mellie grabbed Jason's hand and he jolted slightly. If they didn't make it out one of the open tunnels somehow, they'd probably die.

  Jason grabbed Piper's hand. "Group hug!"

  As mentioned before, group hugs were Blaire's worst nightmare.
 
  Blaire hesitantly huddled closer to the others, hanging onto Jason, pressed flush against Leo as they fell.

   "HI!" Leo shouted into Blaire's ear despite the situation, his breath tickiling her bare neck.

  "Shut up!"

  "Bring it on, gas bags!" Hedge yelled up at the storm spirits. "I'll pulverize you!"

  "He's magnificent," Mellie sighed.

  "Concentrate?" Jason prompted.

  "Right!" she said.

  They channeled the wind so their fall became more of a tumble into the nearest open chute. Still, they slammed into the tunnel at painful speed and went rolling over each other down a steep vent that was not designed for people. There was no way they could stop.

   Mellie's robes billowed around her. Blaire and the  others clung to her desperately, and they began to slow down, but the storm spirits were screaming into the tunnel behind them. Blaire was naseous at the movement and almost afraid she'd vomit all over the others.

  "Can't—hold—long," Mellie warned. "Stay together! When the winds hit—"

  "You're doing great, Mellie," Hedge reassured her. "My own mama was an aura, you know. She couldn't have done better herself."

  "Iris-message me?" Mellie pleaded.

  Hedge winked.

  "Could you guys plan your date later?" Piper screamed."Look!"

  Behind them, the tunnel was turning dark. Blaire could feel her ears pop as the pressure built.

  "Can't hold them," Mellie warned. "But I'll try to shield you, do you one more favor."

  "Thanks, Mellie," Jason said. "I hope you get a new job."

  She smiled, and then dissolved, wrapping them in a warm gentle breeze. Then the real winds hit, shooting them into the sky so fast, everything went black. Blaire plummeted into a land of unconscious sorrow.

lynn says !!! I HATE THIS CHAPTERI HATE IT I HATE IT IM SORRY. PLEASE. it's fully book plot oriented and you get hardly any Bleo but next chapter will make up for it I SWEARRR U ALL will absolutely love it! AND THE WRITING IN THIS UGH... all for it to be late af im so sorry guys Actually. Anyways olivia's obituary is wild I laughed writing it. UNEDITED!