[ Liz Gillies as Khione ]

I 09. I

𝑮𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒓𝒆

❝ north wind ❞

     SHE WAS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHATEVER ACTIONS HAPPENED WHEN SHE WAS AROUND KHIONE. If it ended with the goddess trying to kill her with her powers, it wasn't her fault.

Ariadne could already tell that she would not like Khione. Everything about her screamed stuck up and snobbish, as if she had been handed the entire world, and quite frankly, as a goddess she had.

The brunette looked up the staircase. Her eyes narrowed. At the top stood the goddess in a white silk dress. Her skin was unnaturally pale, the color of snow, but her hair was a lush mane of black, and her eyes were coffee brown. She focused on Leo with no expression, no smile, no friendliness.

Then she looked at Jason and Piper, and seemed to understand the situation immediately. Her lips turned downward toward a scowl at the sight of Ariadne, who stood with her arms crossed, and a nasty glare settled on her face.

"Father will want to see the one called Jason," Khione said.

"Then it is him," Zethes said excitedly.

"We'll see," Khione said. "Zethes, bring our guests."

Leo grabbed the handle of his bronze dragon suitcase. Before he could take a step, she froze him with a look.

"Not you, Leo Valdez," she said.

"Why not?"

"You can't be in the presence of my father," the goddess said. "Fire and ice—it would not be wise."

"We're going together," Jason insisted, putting his hand in Leo's shoulder, "or not at all."

Khione tilted her head, like she wasn't used to people refusing her orders. Ariadne smirked slightly. "He will not be harmed, Jason Grace, unless you make trouble. Calais, keep Leo Valdez here. Guard him, but do not kill him."

Cal pouted. "Just a little?"

"No," she insisted. "And take care of his interesting suitcase, until Father passed judgment."

The trio looked at Leo, their expressions asking him a silent question: How do you want to play this?

Leo felt a surge of gratitude. They were ready to fight for him. Part of him wanted to see if Ariadne could take down the gorgeous girl that scared him, as another gorgeous girl who scared the ever living life out of him.

"It's fine, guys," he said. "No sense causing trouble if we don't have to. You go ahead."

"Listen to your friend," Khione said. "Leo Valde will be perfectly safe. I wish I could say the same for you, son of Zeus. Now come, King Boreas is waiting."

As they climbed the icy staircase, Zethes stayed behind them, his blade drawn. He stuck himself at Ariadne's side, and it took everything in her self control to not slap him.

Every once in a while she's turn and give Jason a smile, but there was no warmth in her expression. Her lips would scowl anytime her eyes caught onto Ariadne's.

The demigod had no clue why the goddess was so irked with her there. Maybe it was because she was basically on the same level as a goddess looks-wise.

But if she kept the act up Ariadne wouldn't hesitate using Lunacy to cut her hair off.

Jason looked nervous. Ariadne and Annabeth had told him Boreas was the friendliest of the wind gods. Apparently that meant he didn't kill heroes quite as fast as the others did.

Without thinking about it, he took Piper's hand for reassurance.

She raised her eyebrows, but she didn't let go.

"It'll be fine," she promised. "Just a talk, right?"

At the top of the stairs, the ice princess looked back and noticed them holding hands. Her smile faded. Suddenly Jason's hand in Piper's turned cold. Their fingers were smoking with frost.

"Warmth is not a good idea here," the Princess advised, "especially when I am your best chance of staying alive. Please, this way."

Ariadne grew tired of Zethes and moved in front of Jason and Piper. It was a countermeasure; keeping her away from Zethes, and ensuring that she could distract the goddess enough in case Piper and Jason were whispering a plan.

"If you're against warmth, should we throw our coats out?" the brunette questioned, tucking her hands into her pockets. "Or should I just lend you mine. You know, seeing as you have a cold, dead heart in your body. Maybe it needs some warmth to make it actually work for once."

She knew Piper and Jason were giving her gaped looks. But she had learned in her years of quests that insulting a god or goddess was the only way to make them slip. Percy and her were great at it. But she usually had Annabeth of Grover to shut them up.

It was just her now.

Khione gave her stone cold look. "Or, I could make you into an ice sculpture. Would that be better?"

Ariadne leaned closer to her and whispered, "Goddess or not, if you try to hurt my friends in any way, I'll ensure that this hotel is covered in your blood."

They continued without any other discussion. They followed the Princess down a massive hallway decked in frosty tapestries.

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. But this version, all the wind guys were Winter, blowing ice and snow from every corner of the world.

Khione turned. Her brown eyes glittered. "This is the throne room," she said. "Be on your best behavior, Jason Grace. My father can be...chilly. I will translate for you, and try to encourage him to hear you out. I do hope he spared you. We could have such fun."

Ariadne guessed her definition of fun was not the same as theirs.

"Um, okay," Jason managed. "But really, we're just here for a little talk. We'll be leaving right afterward."

The goddess 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 Princess sniffed in distaste. "You're friend did not tell you?" Looking over at Ariadne. "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 sword 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.

Most hung in the air. Ariadne tried not to shiver, and her break 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. All around the room stood life sized 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 Jason thought they were ice sculptures. Then he 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.

Ariadne grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him out of harm's way. He nodded in thanks.

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, Ariadne 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," 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," Zeus 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 products. But the stunning Ariadne is still in good shape."

Ariadne rolled her eyes.

They kept walking, and the most 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. His arched eyebrows made him look angry, but his eyes twinkled more warmly than his daughter's—as if he must have a sense of humor buried somewhere under that permafrost.

"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 Majeste," she said, "je suis Piper McLean. Et c'est Jason, fils de Zeus. Voici Ariadne, fille de Dionysos."

The king smiled with pleasant surprise. "Vous parlez français? Très bien!"

"Piper, you speak French?" Jason asked.

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 murderohs 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 while Ariadne kept a close eye on Khione. "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 Unite 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?"

"No," Ariadne growled, "you didn't."

Jason tensed. The king was still smiling amiably, like he'd just delivered great news.

"Kill us?" Jason 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 fueled his wings against his back. As he approached, Khione and Zethes bowed. Ariadne, Jason, and Piper followed their example.

"I shall deign to speak your language," Boreas said, "as Piper McLean had honored me in mine. Trojours, I have had a fondness for the children of Aphrodite. As for you, Jason Grace, my master Aeolus would not expect me to kill a son of Lord Zeus...without first hearing you out."

Lunacy was at the ready if a fight broke out. She would love to have a crack at Khione.

"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 flatscreen 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—swarmed around him like angry wasps, pounding the monster with lightning and fire. Vines larger than a skyscraper claws at the monster's legs, causing it to slow its movements. Finally the river erupted in a massive whirlpool, and the smoky form sank beneath the waves and disappeared.

Jason noticed Ariadne stiffen. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, and he wondered what she had went through last summer.

The girl only pictured Luke's body on the floor of the throne room up on Olympus. His eyes soulless. They haunted her every night. Remembering it brought back a new source of pain, and seeing Titan again resulted in remembering all those who had died in those days fighting against the Titans.

"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 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.

"Your Majesty," Ariadne said, "last summer, the gods had no choice but to battle Typhon. I was there. He would've destroy New York and Olympus if they hadn't. I'm sorry about the storm spirits, but why punish demigods for it?"

The king gazed down at her. "I heard of your deeds through the winds, Ariadne Phoenix. The Titans had a right to try and take you out. But, alas, 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," Jason ventured. "But you're not going to crush your 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 do I put it?—make all our lives very interesting. I am only obligated to listen, however. After that, I am free to pass judgement as I see fit. But I will listen first. Khione wishes this also. It may be that we will not kill you."

Jason let out a sigh. "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 could be very messy."

Khione stepped behind Jason and put her cold fingers on his neck. "My father gives me such lovely presents," she murmured in his ear. "Join our court. Perhaps I'll let your friends go."

"What?" Zethes broke in. "If Khione gets this one, then I deserve the girls. 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 heard the demigod's story yet. Then we will decide what to do with them. Please, Jason Grace, entertain us."

Khione purred and stroked his neck. There was a loud pop, and Khione flew backward, skidding across the floor.

Zethes laughed while Ariadne snorted. "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—"

"Stop," Jason ordered, with as much force as he could muster. "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 Hers busting down your doors, you're going to let us go."

He sounded confident, and it got their attention. Khione's blizzard swirled to a stop. Zethes lowered his hand. They both looked uncertainly at their father.

"Hmm," Boreas said. His eyes twinkled, but Ariadne couldn't tell if it was with anger of amusement. "A son of Zeus, favored by Hera? This is definitely a first. Tell us your story."

Piper saved them. "Your Majesty." She curtsied again with incredible poise, considering her life was on the line. She told Boreas the whole story, from the Grand Canyon to the prophecy.

"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?" Jason asked. "He's alive?"

Boreas waved aside the question. "For now. But the one who controls the 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 her 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 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."

"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 looked beautiful and confident—and it had nothing to do with the blessing of Aphrodite. She looked herself again, in day old traveling clothes with choppy hair and no makeup. But 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 Gleason 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 dared charmspeak a god? Freeze her now!"

Boreas considered this. Jason slipped his hand into the pocket that held the gold coin. Ariadne held her ring tighter.

The movement caught Boreas's eye. "What is that on your forearm, demigod?"

Jason hadn't realized his coat sleeve had gotten pushed up, revealing the edge of his tattoo. 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 crackled 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—hung at his side.

"Aquilon," Jason said.

The god inclined his head. "You recognize me better in this form, yes? And yet you say 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," Piper said nervously, "why did Boreas change shape? The toga, the wreath. What's going on?"

"It's his Roman form," Jason 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 the demigods again."

"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 pasty. "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 is 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 the 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," Jason 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, son of Jupiter."

Ariadne felt a chill up her spine at those words. And it wasn't because of the cold. Someone else was serving someone worse than the Titans, and she had an idea who was pulling the strings on everyone, but not who they had under their palm.

"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 tde winds, then you may go to Aeolus. Only he had 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 nodded. But the god wasn't finished.

"Daughter of the Vines," he said lowly. Ariadne faced the god. "I wish, for your sake, that you have enough hold on your own mind to keep yourself safe. For you, Ariadne Phoenix, are the one who will face the most pain in the end."

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 just used the hotel's valet service. Festus the dragon was back in normal form, snorting fire over his scales to keep him defrosted.

As Khione led them down the stairs, Ariadne noticed that Leo's eyes followed her. Leo started combing his hair back with his hands.

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, Jason Grace, I will see you as a statue in the throne room soon enough."

"Boreas is right," Jason said. "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?"

Leo looked devastated. "What happened up there? You made her mad? Is she mad at me too! Guys, that was my prom date!"

"We'll explain later," Piper promised.

Jason looked away from Piper. "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 would make a lovely ice statue, in which I could check my reflection."

"Thanks," Ariadne said. "But I'd rather play hockey with Cal over that any day."

"Hockey?" Cal's eyes lit up.

"Kidding," Ariadne said. "And the storm winds aren't our worst problem, I'm betting."

"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 Ariadne and Piper into ice sculptures.

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 in, guys." Jason stared out at the dark. He was anxious. "Let's go to Chicago and try not to get destroyed."

But what stuck in her mind the most was what Boreas had told her. That in the end, she would feel the most pain. Something told her that Percy was the one who would be used against her.

And that caused unimaginable pain.

authors note:

Pretty sure this is the longest chapter so far

Also: I hope y'all like how ominous it was because I sure do

I need to study for my permit test but I'm procrastinating because I want to keep writing because I miss Percaidan so much and I need MOA

So yeah. Hope y'all like it because I feel like this chapter was shit

Q: If I decided to make like a group chat on what we (insta, Snapchat, text message) would you all be interested. Liek we all talk about the book and stuff and you guys can ask me questions and what not?
A: I would love to do it but only if everyone is comfortable because I would love to be able to ask your opinions and let everyone know some sneak peeks and stuff

Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Comment your favorite parts so far!

Love you guys!