O C E A N U S

C H A P T E R   T H I R T E E N

( meet the king of crazy )

⟶⬩⬥⬩⟵

          JASON HAD FOUND his sister and lost her in less than an hour. As they climbed the cliffs of the floating island, he kept looking back, but Thalia was gone.

Despite what she'd said about meeting him again, Jason wondered. She'd found a new family with the Hunters, and a new mother in Artemis. She seemed so confident and comfortable with her life, Jason wasn't sure if he'd ever be a part of it. And she seemed so set on finding her friend Percy. Had she ever searched for Jason that way? The way that Malia had been before she'd been sent on this quest?

Not fair, he told himself. She thought you were dead.

He could barely tolerate what she'd said about their mom. It was almost like Thalia had handed him a baby—a really loud, ugly baby—and said, Here, this is yours. Carry it. He didn't want to carry it. He didn't want to look at it or claim it. He didn't want to know that he had an unstable mother who'd gotten rid of him to appease a goddess. No wonder Thalia had run away.

Then he remembered the Zeus cabin at Camp Half-Blood—that tiny little alcove Thalia had used as a bunk, out of sight from the glowering statue of the sky god. Their dad wasn't much of a bargain, either. Jason understood why Thalia had renounced that part of her life too, but he was still resentful. He couldn't be so lucky. He was left holding the bag—literally.

The golden backpack of the winds was strapped over his shoulders. The closer they got to Aeolus's palace, the heavier the bag got. The winds struggled, rumbling and bumping around.

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!"

"I'm gonna turn his furry ass into a coat if he comments on the stairs again," Malia mumbled, glaring at the goat.

As they climbed, Leo, Piper, and Malia left Jason in his silence. Maybe they could sense his bad mood. Malia kept glancing back, worried, as if he were the one who'd almost died from a dragon bite rather than she. Her eyes swam with oceans of worry anytime she'd look back at him, lips tugged down in a frown. She of all people probably understood what he was going through right now, even if not fully.

Jason momentarily thought of Thalia's idea. They'd told the girls about what Thalia had said on the bridge—how they could save both Piper's dad and Hera—but Jason didn't really understand how they were going to do that, and he wasn't sure if the possibility had made Piper more hopeful or just more anxious.

Leo kept swatting his own legs, checking for signs that his pants were on fire. He wasn't steaming anymore, but the incident on the ice bridge had really freaked Jason out. Leo hadn't seemed to realize that he had smoke coming out of his ears and flames dancing through his hair. If Leo started spontaneously combusting every time he got excited, they were going to have a tough time taking him anywhere. Jason imagined trying to get food at a restaurant. I'll have a cheeseburger and—Ahhh! My friend's on fire! Get me a bucket!

Mostly, though, Jason worried about what Leo had said. Jason didn't want to be a bridge, or an exchange, or anything else. He just wanted to know where he'd come from. And Thalia had looked so unnerved when Leo mentioned the burned-out house in his dreams—the place the wolf Lupa had told him was his starting point. How did Thalia know that place, and why did she assume Jason could find it?

The answer seemed close. But the nearer Jason got to it, the less it cooperated, like the winds on his back.

Finally they arrived at the top of the island. Bronze walls marched all the way around the fortress grounds, though Jason couldn't imagine who would possibly 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 said.

"Guess you can't get cable on a floating island," Leo said. "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 Jason wasn't sure if they were decorations or alive.

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."

Malia grinned at the springtime section. "I've always wondered what a cloud felt like. Might try giving one of those sheep a hug and see if I fall through or not."

"I'm loving that pasture." Coach Hedge licked his lips. "You guys mind—"

"Go ahead," Jason said. He was actually relieved to send the satyr off. It would be hard enough getting on Aeolus's good side without Coach Hedge waving his club and screaming, "Die!"

While the satyr ran off to attack springtime, Jason, Leo, Piper, and Malia 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 Jason 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. Jason 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."

"Are you a ghost?" he asked.

Malia smacked him upside the head, and Jason realized he'd insulted the woman. The 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?"

"Well," 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 said.

The lobby was a pretty distracting place. Winds blasted around them, so Jason felt like he was pushing through an invisible crowd. Doors blew open and slammed by themselves.

The things Jason 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 creature fluttered past. She looked like a mix between an old lady and a chicken on steroids. She had a wrinkled face with black hair tied in a hairnet, arms like a human plus wings like a chicken, and a fat, feathered body with talons for feet. It was amazing she could fly at all. She kept drifting around and bumping into things like a parade balloon.

"Not an aura?" Jason 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."

She batted her eyes at Jason.

"'Course you are," he said.

"So," Malia 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!"

⟶⬩⬥⬩⟵

Jason's jaw dropped. The central section of Aeolus's fortress was as big as a cathedral, with a soaring domed roof covered in silver. Television equipment floated randomly through the air—cameras, spotlights, set pieces, potted plants. And there was no floor. Leo almost fell into the chasm before Piper pulled him back.

"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. Jason 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 Jason. 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.

"That can't be safe," Jason said.

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

Easier for her to say. She just drifted across without touching the floor, but Jason decided he had the best chance at surviving, since he could fly, so he stepped out first. Amazingly, the floor held.

Malia gripped his hand tightly as she followed him, her face stark white. "If I fall, you're catching me, Hercules."

"Uh, sure." Jason hoped he wasn't blushing.

Leo and Piper stepped out next, Leo saying, "You're catching us, too, Superman. But we ain't holding your hand."

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. "I got to get a room like this."

"The lack of floor included or. . . ?" Malia quipped, making Leo roll his eyes with a laugh.

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

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 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. "Ah, sir, Mr. Aeolus, these demigods—"

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

It was one of those storm-chaser programs, where insane thrill-seekers drive after tornados. As Jason watched, 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 said, "this is Jason, son of—"

"Yes, yes, I remember," Aeolus said. "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."

"I—I don't remember."

Aeolus 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 interrupted. "Two minutes to air."

"Air!" Aeolus exclaimed. "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-toned 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.

"Mr. Aeolus." Jason slipped 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, and Jason offered the bag. "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 death of Typhon, demigods to be held responsible,' etc. . . yes, a general order for them all to be killed."

"Oh, pish," Aeolus said. "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, snatched the golden bag, and 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."

Jason tensed. A cold tingle on the back of his neck. . . Why did that sound so familiar? "A. . . um, voice in your head, sir?"

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

"No, sir," she said patiently. "They just brought us 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."

"A box of chocolates to every demigod on 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 looked at Malia, Piper, and Leo, who seemed just as confused as he was.

"Mellie," he said, "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 said. "Was I here before?"

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 gestures to the blue screen, but when Jason checked the monitors, he 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 in 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 predictions 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."

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. . ."

She trailed off, but Jason knew what she meant. Mad. Aeolus was completely mad.

"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 said, "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, Jason almost jumped into the chasm. "You mean you're here on behalf of your father this time? Finally! I knew they would send someone to renegotiate my contract!"

"Um, what?" Jason asked.

"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?"

Jason looked at his friends, mystified.

"Dude," Leo said, "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—"

"Er, I don't think those are about you," Jason said, before he noticed Mellie shaking her head.

"Nonsense," Aeolus said. "Mellie, they're biographies of me, aren't they?"

"Absolutely, sir," she squeaked.

"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 said, "we're not from Olympus."

Aeolus blinked. "But—"

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

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

"Sir, please, 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 asked. "You mean, demigods?"

"Oh, please!" Aeolus said. "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 Rom, blah, blah, blah. That's what I meant."

"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 said. "I guess not."

"I say ignore Juno. She's a royal pain in the ass," Malia mumbled.

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

"We just want information," Piper said 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 four 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. His face did look familiar. Jason was pretty sure he'd seen him in some movies.

Piper took the photo. Her hands were shaking. "This—this is from his wallet."

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

"The what?" Piper asked.

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 as if it might be coated in poison. He staggered backward.

"Leo?" Malia said. "What is it?"

"Something I—I drew when I was a kid." He folded it quickly and put it in his coat. "It. . . yeah, it's nothing."

Aeolus laughed. "Really? Just the key to your success! And you, daughter of Poseidon. I have something here for you as well." He held his hand out and grasped at the air, something forming in his palm. He passed it to Malia, who turned even paler than she had been before.

In the palm of her shaking hand was a simple leather bracelet with a few clay beads strung along it. The beads each had a letter painted on them, spelling out 'ARIEL' in fancy writing. Malia's fingers gripped the bracelet so tightly, he thought it might break. She said nothing as she slipped it into the pocket of her jacket, and Jason gave her hand a gentle squeeze of assurance.

"Now, where were we?" Aeolus asked. "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 in warning.

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

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 said. "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 said.

"Hold on!" Aeolus 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."

Malia rolled her eyes. "Your powers of perception are frightening."

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

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

"And Zeus might promote you," Jason finished.

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," Malia 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. . ."

Aeolus tilted his head as if thinking. Then Jason 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. And, well this is a shock. Poseidon and Zeus are actually agreeing on something. . . yes. Hmm. Very rare those four gods agree on anything. Hold on. . ."

Jason smiled at his friends. Finally, they were having some good luck. Their godly parents were standing up for them.

Back toward the entrance, Jason heard a loud belch. 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 wasn't sure what to call him: teacher, friend, problem?

"Our guide."

"He's so goatly," Mellie murmured.

Behind he, 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 said. "And we're using the sod as a flood. This is, ah, Mellie—"

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

Mellie blushed.

"And Aeolus here was just about to help us," Jason said.

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

"Devil Mountain?" Leo asked. "That doesn't sound good."

"I remember that place!" Piper said. "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."

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

"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 said. "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. Jason could hear storm spirits screaming out of it, spiraling up toward them, howling for blood.

"Even Zeus understand 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 and Malia summoned their swords. Coach Hedge pulled out his club. Mellie the aura yelled, "No!"

She 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 five 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!"

"Then help me, or you're all dead!" Mellie grabbed his hand, and an electric charge went through Jason's arm. He understood what she needed. They had to control their fall and head for one of the open tunnels. The storm spirits were following them down, closing rapidly, bringing with them a cloud of deadly shrapnel.

Jason grabbed Malia's hand. "Group hung!"

Hedge, Leo, Piper, and Malia tried to huddle together, hanging on to Jason and Mellie as they fell.

"This is NOT GOOD!" Leo yelled.

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

"He's magnificent," Mellie sighed.

"Concentrate?" Jason and Malia shouted.

"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. Jason and the others clung to her desperately, and they began to slow down, but the storm spirits were screaming into the tunnel behind them.

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

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

"Iris-message me?" Mellie pleaded.

Hedge winked.

"Gods, I'm gonna be sick," Malia mumbled.

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

Behind them, the tunnel was turning dark. Jason could feel his 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, Jason blacked out.

⟶⬩⬥⬩⟵

A U T H O R S   N O T E

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We are nearing the end of the Lost Hero so quickly it's scary. I'm thinking maybe five more chapters? Three or four at the most, maybe. I'm not exactly sure at this point. It could be two chapters for all I know. Five is a solid guess though at this point.

Next chapter is the fight against Enceladus. Or at least half of the fight. Then we enter the fight to save Hera. And then we get back to Camp where Jason and Malia potentially start dating and they figure out what the next step it for the Great Prophecy and where Percy is.

Please comment and vote!

Love you all!

~ a.h.