Leo 𐀖𐀖 𐀗

Leo wasn't bitter, was he? No, of course not. Leo wasn't bitter at all. Just because he wasn't invited by the super attractive girl who seemed to float through the air with the grace of a gazelle to meet the king didn't necessarily make him bitter. Of course not. Besides, he had more important issues to deal with, like fixing his dragon without taking it out of suitcase mode.

Okay, maybe not that, but still, there was the urgent task of somehow making himself look more presentable. That had nothing to do with the girl. He just, uh, felt bogged down or something. Would that classify as reason enough for Piper and Jason? He wondered.

"Hey Cal," he turned to the sole remaining person in the room, "Is there any way that I could clean up? I'm feeling a bit out of place."

Cal just stared at him.

"Laundry mat cleaning service," Leo continued, emphasizing his suet-stained shirt.

"Down the stairs." he eventually got out, but before he could even finish his sentence, Leo had dashed off.

Probably not the best Idea, Leo thought to himself. I probably should have asked him what stairs.

However, as luck would have it, Cal jogged to catch up with Leo, probably just to keep an eye on him. Still, Leo appreciated the company all the same. Especially since it meant he wouldn't get lost in the hotel.

"I must protect the box."

Okay, so not for him but his dragon, still he appreciated the gesture.

Leo thought to himself, the walk down the icy staircase was treacherous, nothing akin to the likes of what the other two were probably going through. Still, as he looked down, he realized slipping down the stairway would not end well for him.

Are there no elevators here?" Leo asked, placing his left foot down a step, carefully testing his footing.

"We have no need for them," Cal responded.

"Right," Leo said to himself. Why would flying people need an elevator... or stairs for that matter? Leo decided not to think too hard about that last one.

After Leo had made it down what he could guessed was a maintenance stairwell, the two of them finally emerged on the uppermost floor of the resort.

Nothing special as far as Leo could tell, there were rooms, starting from 4500 and continued down the hall, which itself was decorated with paintings of traditional Canadian wildlife.

There was the moose, the bear, Leo thought to himself, the small moose, the ... furry moose ... the beaver that was Canadian, right?

He looked to Cal for clarification, but he remained focused on finding the laundry room.

"Hey uh Cal," Leo started hesitantly, "I don't mean to be rude, but how are we going to clean my clothes while I'm still wearing them?"

You do not go in too?" Cal responded, tilting his head.

"Uh, no. Preferably not." Leo shivered, imagining the industrial-style washers and driers hotel resorts would use.

Cal stopped, frowning he looked around the hallway, his eyes coming to rest on a maintenance worker's cart outside an opened room. "here," he said, walking into the room before a heated discussion in french followed with one side in short one-syllable words and the other in an exasperated tone.

Leo stood outside while silently praying to all the gods that no tourists would choose this moment to leave for pastry tours? Was that a thing or whatever it was that tourists would do in Montreal.

Eventually, the argument subsided, and Cal walked out carrying a pair of jeans two sized too large and a red "I heart New York" shirt two sizes too small. Apparently, Leo thought to himself. He didn't even take these articles from the same suitcase.

Cal then returned with Leo to the laundry room, Leo, still holding the newly acquired clothes looked around. "Um, can I have a bit of privacy?" he asked Cal.

Cal glared at Leo before shuffling out of the room closing the door.

Well, that's that, Leo thought to himself.

After waiting around for his laundry to dry, Leo heard a commotion coming from outside.

Cal was arguing with a tourist, Leo thought to himself, quickly changing his shirt before he hid the borrowed one behind the washer. As Leo opened the door, he was greeted by Cal arguing with the last person he expected to see.

"Angry girl's, brother?"

Cal turned around, wheeling on his heel, "Leo, smash him?"

Malcolm looked terrible. His orange Camp Halfblood T-shirt was torn and stained with various substances in multiple places with what seemed to be blood, sweat, and... honey? His hair hadn't been combed recently, not that Leo was one to talk. His jeans had multiple holes in them and seemed to coordinate with fresh wounds. A small straight swod's scabbard holding what Leo could only imagine was a sword with numerous indents in it. It was stained a crimson color of which Leo immediately identified as blood.

Malcolm sighed, "Relax, Cal, I am here for an audience with your father."

This only appeared to aggravate Cal further.

"And you," Leo chimed in, "he also wanted to see you."

This seemed to placate Cal at least a bit. "Hmm, is he a friend?"

Leo studies Malcolm for a bit, he hadn't spent that much time with him, and he did attack Jasson at the campfire. However, he didn't want to anger Annabeth anymore, and she seemed close to her brother. "Yeah, he's cool."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow at this as Cal poked his arm, "Cool, he seems warm to me." Cal continued to poke at Malcolm, who seemed to take it all in stride.

"I assume Jason and Piper are already speaking with Boreas." Malcolm asked, ignoring Cal's prodding.

Leo nodded.

"And you decided you would rather freshen up?" Malcolm asked, narrowing his eyes to the point Leo was sure that Malcolm's eyes would stick.

Cal shrugged, fidgeting with his sword, "Fire is bad."

"What in Hade's name does fire have to do with anything?" Malcolm scowled, turning his attention back towards Cal, "Unless..." he drifted off, taking a step towards Leo. "Whatever," he said, breaking his eye contact with Leo, "I am not here for him, and I will speak to your father," he said, challenging Cal.

Cal sneered, the angriest Leo had ever seen him. "Destroy now."

Leo watched in horror as Cal drew his sword, and Malcolm just smirked one hand on the hilt of his sword, watching Cal's movements.

Luckily, it was at this exact moment that all of the tension was drained out of the room. Or at least for Leo, and not precisely drained out of the room, more like it was transformed into a different type of tension. The ice girl had returned and drew all of Leo's attention.

"I see we have another guest," Leo assumed that she was looking at Malcolm, but he didn't break contact with her to find out. something was off about her, though, something that Leo couldn't quite put his finger on

"Destroy?" call asked.

The ice princess glared at Cal. "No, bring him with the other one. Father is about to pass judgment, might as well include him." Leo was happy to go along with the girl, but the way she said pass judgment made him just a bit nervous.

Cal frowned but did what she told him. The girl turned on her heel and started towards the grand hall, not turning to make sure that the other three followed her.

Leo figured this wouldn't end well but couldn't help himself from following, plus if he didn't go on his own free will, he was sure Cal would make him. Might as well make it easier on him if nothing else, Leo thought to himself.

Returning to the main lobby was harder. His dragon suitcase needed to be lifted step over step, and his only saving grace was that he had grabbed a folding board back in the laundry room and used it as a ramp.

Eventually, they made it back to where Leo was left with Cal initially; however, only his suitcase and Cal stopped. That is to say, the girl made Leo leave his suitcase behind and told Cal to watch it while she brought Leo and Malcolm to the throne room.

Well, this isnt concerning. Leo thought to himself, Cal was guarding his one escape route, and the girl was leading him to what he could only assume was his demise.

On the other hand, Malcolm seemed unphased by this, as if being taken to some all-powerful deity to have their judgment passed on him was all par for the course for him.

They eventually made it to a pair of oaken doors, and before opening them, the girl turned around. "This is the throne room, Be on your best behavior, both of you. I will translate for you, even though that honestly probably won't be necessary," she said, a terrifying smile spread across her face.

Leo swallowed, nervous but desperate not to show it challenged the girl's stare, "Hold on lady, don't you think you should introduce yourself before saying you'll translate for someone else we've never met."

The girl smiled as if amused by Leo's demand.

"She's Khione, goddess of snow," Malcolm said slowly as if testing each word.

Khione looked shocked for a minute, almost wholly forgetting that Leo was in the room.

"Who are you?"

"Malcolm Pace."

"Pace," Khinoe said, closing her eyes, "that name's familiar."

"It's a common English surname," Malcolm said, shrugging the comment off.

"Indeed," Khione said but left the subject drop as she turned to open the doors.

Leo took this time to turn towards Malcolm, "You know her?"

"I know who she is. This is my first time meeting her, though perhaps...

Malcolm trailed off Khione interrupted him.

"Follow me."

Inside the throne room, the first thing that caught Leo's attention, well, more like things, were multiple life-like ice sculptures. Sure he also saw his friends, Zethes, and who he assumed was Boreas but those Ice statues...

"Ah, you're back," Boreas said, looking at Khione, "and the third one is, what's this? I was told there were three of them," he said, switching his gaze towards Malcolm.

"He was demanding an audience, and since he knows the other three, I figured he could be judged along with them."

"Well, this is highly unusual, but I suppose given that I was told only to listen to the son of Zeus and their attack on my daughter, that only seems fitting, so I will kill the four."

Wait, Leo thought to himself, what the heck happened here?

"Please, Your Majesty," Piper said.

Everyone's eyes turned toward her. She had to be scared out of her mind, but 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 Gleeson 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 dares to charmspeak a god? Freeze her now!"

Boreas considered this. Leo thought that he had only spent minutes in this throneroom before being killed, not fair.

However, two things happened almost simultaneously that seemed to catch Boreas's eyes.

First, something on Jason's arm as he fumbled for something in his pocket, and a puff of water vapor imploded around the hilt of Malcolm's blade as he started to draw it.

"Damascus steel?"

Malcolm just nodded

"Interesting," Boreas turned his attention towards Jasson as Khione gingerly stepped away from Malcolm towards the other three.

"What is that on your forearm, demigod?" he asked Jason.

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 cracked 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," both Jason and Malcolm said; however, in Malcolm's case, it came out more like an insult.

The god inclined his head. "You recognize me better in this form, yes? And yet you both came from Camp Half-Blood?"

Jason shifted his feet while Malcolm remained silent. "Uh 
 yes, Your Majesty." Jason was fully aware that he had Boreas's full attention.

"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 demigods again. And even if it doesn't, well, I'm not worried," he said as his gaze drifted towards Malcolm.

Leo felt as if he had walked into a walk-in freezer, the feeling that Boreas was right. That sense of wrongness which had bothered Jason since he got to Camp Half-Blood, Chiron's comment about his arrival being disastrous, and his unease around Malcolm—Boreas knew what they meant.

"I don't suppose you could explain?" Jason asked.

"Oh, perish the thought! It is not for me to interfere in fate. No wonder Hera took your memory." Boreas chuckled, apparently still having a great time imagining demigods tearing each other apart. "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 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 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 CancĂșn. What do I get? A winter festival with naked QuĂ©bĂ©cois 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. I imagine your friend, he mentioned at Malcolm, "can give you the full stop tour. 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."

"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 the winds, then you may go to Aeolus. Only he has 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 all bowed, and the god of the North Wind dissolved into mist.

Cal was waiting for them back in the entry hall, and suitcase Festus was still in suitcase mode.

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?" But as he said it, Jason had a feeling Khione could do a whole lot worse.

Leo looked devastated. "What happened up there? You attacked her? Is she mad at me? Guys, that was my prom date!" as he transformed his suitcase back into a dragon.

"We'll explain later," Piper promised.

As for the part he did catch, Leo was confused.

The idea that Jason had been sent to Camp Half-Blood seemed to amuse the god, but Boreas/Aquilon hadn't let them go out of kindness. Cruel excitement had danced in his eyes, as if he'd just placed a bet on a dogfight.

You will tear each other apart, he'd said with delight. Aeolus will never have to worry about demigods again.

"Be careful, pretty girl," 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," Piper said. "But I'd sooner play hockey with Cal."

"Hockey?" Cal's eyes lit up.

"Joking," Piper said. "And the storm winds aren't our worst problem, are they?"

"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 Piper into an ice sculpture.

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 on, guys." Jason stared out at the dark. before his eyes settled on Malcolm, "Um, I guess you can come along if you need a ride."

"To Chicago." Malcolm pointed out.

"uh, yeah, I guess.

Malcolm shrugged, "Sure, I got some things I need to take care of over there."

"Great," Jason said. "let's go to Chicago and try not to get destroyed."

Sorry for the lateness, if anyone cares at this point.