Chapter 2: Cold North
The purple-winged angels stopped near them, and Leo pulled Festus up short. One was dressed in a hockey uniform and had a nasty, beat-up face that was missing many teeth. The other looked like he could have come from some eighties band, like some love god. They carried swords with blades of razor ice, and Luke felt that those wouldn't be as easily broken.
"Why have you come to Boreas's palace?" The love angel said.
"Destroy!" The hockey jock said in agreement, hefting his sword. Leo held up his hands.
"Woah, dude, easy with the whole 'destroy' talk there. We just have a question to ask of Lord Boreas." He said.
The jock looked hopeful, but the love guy was frowning at the four passengers. "We have a 'no-unscheduled-flights-allowed' policy, folks." He said. Then his eyes fell on Piper.
She gulped nervously. "Please, we…we must see Lord Boreas, Master of Cold and the North." Luke thought the flattery was a little cheesy, but the love guy didn't think so.
"You are pretty…." He said, half to himself. Piper almost threw up. Then he stopped, staring at them hard. "I smell fire." The hockey guy growled.
"Fire bad!" he exclaimed, waving his sword around as if to prove it.
"It's urgent! Hera herself sent us on this quest." Piper said. The jock looked sad.
"No destroy?" he asked.
The other angel ignored him. "How do we really know Hera sent you on this quest, eh?" he asked, peering at them intently.
Luke sat straight, looking him in the eye. "Think about it. You could be right, which would mean you'd be safe. Or you could be wrong, and for which, hindering her quest, Hera could destroy you on the spot, and you'd spend the next few centuries in a body under a whole lot of pain. It's about a fifty-fifty chance if you ask me." He said in a flat tone. A single drop of sweat leaked from the angel's forehead.
"You bring up a good point." He said. With a glance at Piper, he said, "And she is very pretty…." Then he sighed. "Alright, I suppose you can come in. I am Zethes, and this is my brother, Calais, but you can call him Cal. He is unable to pronounce words with more than two syllables, so you might have some trouble understanding him."
"Pizza! Hockey! Destroy!" Cal said excitedly.
"Follow me." Zethes said, and the two angels turned and flew towards the roof. Leo steered Festus to follow them. It seemed like they'd run into the roof, but at the last moment, it slid open to reveal an opening Festus could easily slip through. Luke glanced nervously at Annabeth. But before he could say anything, they were inside, and the panel slid shut. They slid off the back of Festus, who snorted and blew a gout of flames into the frosty air. "Hey, now," Zethes reprimanded, "you'll have to deactivate him. We can't have that thing burning our penthouse down, now can we." Festus growled and whirred his teeth.
"Careful, man, he doesn't like that word." Leo said, moving to kneel next to the dragon's left hind leg.
"What are you doing?" Annabeth asked.
Leo kept moving his arm around the inside of Festus's leg. "While I was fixing this bad boy," he explained while he worked, "I found a number of buttons around Festus. There should be one…aha!" He clicked something and withdrew his hand. Festus shuddered and began retracting in on itself, metal plates sliding under each other. When it was finished, a solid metal box half the size of Leo sat there. "Cool, right?" Leo said.
"Hold it!" Zethes exclaimed, pressing his sword against Leo's chest. Luke moved, drawing his sword and lifting it to Zethes, but Cal's blade stopped his. Luke decided to leave it there. For now. "I still smell the fire." Zethes growled.
Leo held up his hands. "The dragon is still radiating heat, man. It ain't my fault." He said. Zethes shook his head.
"No…it seems to be coming from you." Zethes said, pushing Leo backwards with the tip of his sword. Leo looked terrified for a split second, but it vanished quickly.
"I was working on the dragon, so some of its fire smell rubbed off on me." Leo explained hastily. Zethes slowly removed his sword from Leo's chest, thought he watched Leo cautiously. Cal also put away his sword. Leo breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed at the spot where Zethes's sword had been. Luke put his own blade away, though had his hand near it just in case.
"Well, now that that's over with, we can all go see my father now." A voice said from the stairs at the end of the suite, and as one they all looked over. A regal, proud and coldly beautiful woman floated a few steps up. She had incredibly pale skin and a pure white dress, the color of snow. Luke instantly knew she was deadly. "Follow me." She said, turning and beginning to ascend the stairs. Zethes prodded them forward, and suddenly Luke was nervous that they might never leave.
Leo tried to follow, but Zethes turned on him. "Oh no, demigod. You stay down here." He said. Leo started to protest, but Luke caught his eye and shook his head. Frowning, Leo took a seat on Festus. "Cal, if you would?" Zethes said. Cal wandered over and stood in front of Leo. Luke and the others turned and reluctantly followed Khione up the stairs.
"I am Khione, the goddess of snow." She said over her shoulder as they climbed. No one said a word. They reached the throne room of Boreas, and Luke temporarily forgot what they were doing. Many ice sculptures were scattered around the room, and it was very misty. The room was long enough that he couldn't see all the way across. They followed the snow princess until the mist parted and they could see Boreas. He sat on the throne in a stylish white suit that seemed to be woven out of snow. His beard was littered with icicles, and his eyes had a merry twinkle to them.
His eyes widened when he saw Luke. "Well, well, boy." He said, the twinkle disappearing. "You've finally returned." Luke blinked in surprise.
"What?" he asked, confused. Khione hissed quietly and backed away, and suddenly he couldn't feel Zethes's blade anymore.
Boreas rolled his eyes. "Don't insult me, Luke. I'm surprised you had the nerve to return." He said icily.
Luke looked at Piper and Annabeth, but they looked as confused as he did. "I'm sorry, Lord Boreas, but I don't know what you're talking about." He said. Boreas snorted.
"No, I figured you wouldn't." He leaned forward, peering closely at Luke. "Zethes, this is him, isn't it?" he asked.
Luke could sense rather than see Zethes nodding. "Same voice and scar, father." He said. Boreas reclined back onto his throne.
"You truly don't remember anything, boy?" he asked.
"Your Majesty, I have no idea what you're talking about, I swear." Luke said. "Have I offended you in some way?" Boreas remained silent, intensely studying his face.
"Come here." He said, beckoning with a finger. Nervously, Luke stepped directly under the throne. Boreas leaned so close Luke was afraid for a moment he'd bash him with his beard. Then something odd happened: Boreas seemed to sniff him.
The god threw himself backwards, roaring with laughter. Luke stepped back to join his friends. They looked more confused than he did. When the god was finished, he wiped away a few tears from his eyes, flicking them away, and they instantly froze and shattered against the floor. "Hera had something to do with this, I bet." He said, chuckling.
"Sir, I'm still confused." Luke said. Boreas grinned.
"Oh, I'll bet you are." He said. "She plays a dangerous game, that one." Annabeth stepped forward.
"Lord Boreas, we have a question to ask of you." She said. Boreas frowned slightly.
"So, information is what you've come for? Well information I have…probably. Fire away, my girl!" he said. A feral glint was in his eyes now.
"We need to find the storm spirits who attacked the demigods at the Grand Canyon." She said.
"Ah, those storm spirits. Yes, you'll find them in Chicago, the windy city." He said, as if it made no difference to him. Khione made a sound of protest, but Boreas silenced her with a freezing glance. "But be warned, Luke Castellan. You will most likely meet your death there." The glint was back in his eyes. "Oh, a very dangerous game indeed." He said, half to himself.
"Thank you, Lord Boreas." Annabeth said.
"It was nothing. Leave us, demigods. Enjoy your life, because it won't last long." He said. Khione led them away, but the god's vile laughter followed them.
Line Break
Percy stopped Arion a mile or so away from Boreas's palace. It was just in sight, the very top. But he wasn't paying attention to the building. He was paying attention of the dragon flying nearby.
The purple-winged angels had stopped them, and were talking for a few minutes. Then the angels turned and began flying towards the roof. A panel opened, and they went inside. Percy considered his next move.
He could follow them inside, or he could wait until they left and follow them then. Unconsciously, he summoned Ashrow, his blade. Frowning at the peak of the building, he made his decision. But just as he was about to tell Arion to go, something caught his ear. Not knowing what it was, he hurled himself off of the horse's back. Something sharp grazed his shoulder. He landed hard on the snow, rolling to a crouch. Arion reared, said Oh, shit!, and bolted. Percy cursed mentally. His eyes roamed the trees in front of him for the threat. Instinct saved his life.
He threw himself into a roll to the right just before three spikes could impale him. They shot out of the dark snowy woods like bullets. He summoned his shield and held it up just in time to stop another round of spikes. Grunting, he took a few steps backwards. The next one knocked him off his feet.
Rolling behind a tree, he stood, panting. A spike hit the edge, nicking off a slice of bark. Percy spotted another tree with a small hollow underneath it. Taking a deep breath, he threw himself into a roll and went for the tree. He slid the last few feet, just narrowly missing getting killed by those spikes. "I've been expecting you, Jackson." A deep, feral voice growled. "You can't hide from me." The voice was coming closer. Percy summoned his sword and got ready. Suddenly, there was no dirt behind his back, and he went tumbling into a tunnel under the tree. He watched in shock and dismay as the dirt closed off the way out. Here heard the manticore's voice right outside the tunnel. "Where have you gone, boy?" Holding his breath, he heard soft footsteps pad away outside the tunnel. Then he climbed up the slope to the dirt wall. Pushing did nothing. Throwing his shoulder against it was about as effective as throwing a tennis ball against a brick wall.
He slid down the slope on the last try. Angrily, he summoned Ashrow. Climbing again, he pushed with the blade. Not expecting it to work, he was surprised at the dirt falling away as soon as the blade touched. Mystified, he stepped out. And dropped, swearing almost inaudibly. Looking around the corner of the tree, he saw a man standing in the small clearing, maybe eight feet across, with a spiked tail sticking out from his rear end. The man stopped, sniffing the air. "I smell you, demigod." He hissed.
As quietly as he could, Percy dug around in his pack, finally retrieving a smoke canister. Here goes nothing. He thought, pulling the pin and lobbing it. It exploded right under the manticore's feet.
Percy summoned his sword and shield and ran towards the smoke. The manticore was coughing inside of it. Jumping high, Percy prepared to deliver a brutal downward killing stroke. But the smoke cleared just enough for the manticore to make out his shape.
Quick as lightning, it turned, lashing out with its tail. Percy shifted his shield to catch the spiked end, but ended up flat on his back in the snow. Temporarily breathless, he rolled to the left to avoid the tail. Leaping to his feet, he ducked under a swing from the beast and stabbed at its thigh. Amazingly, he hit it.
The manticore roared and backhanded him across the face, sending Percy stumbling backwards. The tail bristled, and then the spikes were shooting straight towards him. Raising his shield, he managed to catch most of the spikes, but one skipped off the edge and hit his shoulder.
Pain shot down his arm, and Percy suddenly couldn't lift his shield. Dropping it, he ran and threw himself in a roll at the last moment to the side. Coming up, he saw the manticore starting to turn, but it was too late. Percy's sword bit into its side, and the manticore howled, stumbling away from him. Clutching its side, it glared at him with pure hate. Then it began to transform.
The face stayed the same, but the suit melted into his body, which turned golden and furry. Its arms turned into forelegs equipped with razor-sharp claws, and when it grinned evilly, it showed row after row of needle-like teeth. "Time to die." It snarled, and leaped. Percy considered holding his sword in the air on the fairly high chance that in would impale itself, but thought better of it. Instead, he stepped to the side, shield ready. His assumption was correct.
The manticore's tail bashed into his shield, which brought a hiss of pain from the monster. Before it could react, Percy swung his sword, catching it in the back of the leg. He was bowled over by a large paw in response. The manticore had his shield crushed up against his chest, holding him in place of the ground. The monster opened its mouth to deliver the killing blow. And Percy struck.
Ashrow went straight up its mouth and down its throat. The manticore gasped, choked, and promptly fell over dead before melting into a pile of ash. Percy climbed shakily to his feet. Daedalus had sent him on training missions to hunt down monsters, and he'd faced some pretty tough, nasty ones, but never before had he come so close to death like he had just then.
A small noise made him look up in time to see the dragon flying away. Percy cursed and pulled out his whistle. A second after blowing it, Arion appeared, looking around nervously. Thanks for the help. Percy said, swinging himself onto Arion's back.
Sorry, dude. Hellhounds, Laistrygonians, sphinxes and all can handle. But manticores…no way, man. You can't get to frickin' fight a manticore, not if my life depended on it. Arion paused, cocking his head. Well, actually I would if there was no other option, but yeah. Percy grunted.
Come on. Follow that dragon. He raised his arm and pointed.
On it, chief. Arion responded, stamping his hoof. He shot off, eyes locked on the metal dragon flying high above.
It was nighttime when they reached Detroit. Percy looked around them and realized he couldn't see the dragon anymore. He swore. "Arion, we lost them!"
Nah, Perce, Arion said, I could tell by their course they were headed here. We'll just wait 'em out.
"If you say so. But if you really lost them, Arion…." Percy never finished. His eyes were drawn to the yard around them. "Where are we?"
It's a place where a crap-ton of warehouses are. They got a ton of 'em here. Arion said. Percy looked around, seeing a flash of movement.
"Did you see that?" he asked uneasily. Arion turned his head. Before he could respond, a rope lashed around Arion's neck, and another around Percy's hand, yanking him off Arion. Arion whinnied in anger, then froze when his captor appeared.
Oh, frick. Amazons! He said. Sure enough, near a dozen Amazon warriors stepped from behind warehouses and junk piles. One held the rope around Percy's hands. She gave it a tug, and Percy threw his arms the other way, trying to get the rope from her hands. No such luck. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned around and sidestepped a sword slash from an Amazon and kicked her in the stomach. Grunting, she swung again. Percy lifted his roped hands and the blade severed the connection to the other Amazon. She cursed, but Percy smacked her with a two-handed backhand, spinning her around and dropping her to the ground.
His hands were still bound together, but he skipped away from a spear thrust and rammed the Amazon with his shoulder. She stumbled backwards, fighting to remain upright. Percy whirled around and managed to catch the haft of another spear aiming for his chest. Wrenching it from the warrior's hands, he swung it, but the rope prevented easy maneuvering, and she evaded it easily. Taking the spear back, she tried to bait him. Instead, Percy took a step backwards.
He hadn't realized that another Amazon had come up behind him. Ducking around the pommel of her sword, he threw his shoulder into her gut, knocking her off of her feet. Unfortunately, Percy fell as well. He could here Arion whinnying angrily, but paid no mind. The Amazon was unconscious, or at least stunned; either way she wasn't a problem for a while. Rolling onto his back, he lashed out with his foot and knocked another Amazon over. He struggled to his feet and looked up just in time to see the haft of a spear connect solidly with his face. Grunting, he staggered backwards. He launched an all-out assault on the Amazon, raining blows as best he could. She managed to shove him off, where he received the pommel of a sword to the back of his head.
Spinning, he held up his hand and pulled as hard as he could on the rope. The Amazon's sword cut right through it. Her eyes widened, but Percy wasted no time in delivering a fist to the eye and a knee to the ribs. She dropped, gasping for air. Turning his head, he prepared to fend off more of the warriors, but something hard struck him in the temple, and he sank to the ground, semi-conscious. "Take him." He heard a woman say, and darkness washed over him.