The Quebecois scenery was charming, but it belied a hidden power. Behind the poutine stalls and the ice skaters and the honking geese, somewhere here was the palace of the North Wind.
And inside that castle were England and Spain, held captive.
Alfred and Matthew walked briskly, not talking, only focusing on locating the palace. Soon, their not-so-mortal eyes beheld a veil shimmer and reveal the hidden palace. They snuck in, evading the wards using Canada's overwhelming aura of blandness.
Al saw two angels patrolling the skies. Only he realized they weren't angels. They were, he realized, the Boreads, the fabled brothers of legends who accompanied Jason and later became hencemen of Gaea during the Second Gigantomachy.
"I thought Festus killed them in House of Hades"
Matthew shook his head. "You can't kill gods and spirits that easily"
They were now inside the palace. Matthew had jimmied the doors open with a trusty hockey stick. Sneaking about, they saw beautifully breath-taking ice sculptures. America had never seen such exquisite beauty in ice.
"Beautiful, no?" asked Canada.
"Yeah, who made 'em?"
"Khione did. You're looking at all the men she lured into her lair and froze to death"
"Yikes"
They climbed a stairway and jimmied another ice door open. Inside, they found a huge cavernous room, and in it, the most bizarre collection of beings they ever saw.
The room was dominated by a gigantic organic cage. They could not see the inside of it, but they did not need to. The power of England and Spain's auras, as weakened as they were, was very palpable, even all the way back where Al and Matt were.
Around the cage were three figures: One was a breathtakingly beautiful young woman who looked like the very personage of winter itself.
"Khione herself," murmured Matt.
The second was a young man in very outlandish attire, at least, from where they were: Who wore a turban and a robe in Quebec?!
"Iran," America gritted. "He's leading the ritual for this gig-o-rama, I'll wager"
From the look of it, Iran was flirting with Khione, to some success.
"Has no one ever taken you on a magic carpet ride, dear?"
"I don't usually mingle with fire, but for you, you handsome rogue, I might make an exception!"
Alfred retched.
The third being was unknown to both of them, completely covered in a robe, floating slightly above the ice. They sensed a powerful aura from this third host.
"What's the plan?" asked Alfred.
"Let's observe a little longer. Let them do their villain monologue or something"
"Good idea"
Khione twirled. "You know, after Gaea and the Tyrants failed, I had given up hope on my fantasy of freezing the realms. Thank you and your patron for giving me another chance at revenge at those demigods"
Iran nodded. "I will purge those nephilim in my flames, and the primeval forces will rule the planet once more"
"But you Polisaiads are stronger than demigods, no?"
"Generally, though I wouldn't say a demigod couldn't beat one of our kind one on one. What they can't do is truly kill us. We are ideas incarnate, powered by the fervor of the people. We are barely below you gods in power"
"But that means this offering will also be more powerful than those two demigods Gaea used?"
"Indeed. Though Jackson and McLean are far stronger than your average demigods, these two Polisaiads are far from ordinary: They are England and Spain, two of the proudest empires to walk the Earth. Their blood will water an army far greater than any Gaea could've summoned."
"A pity," said Khione. "They're both very cute. Especially Spain. I love a man with ample… hindquarters"
"You can have their husks. We only need their life force for the ritual"
"What will happen to their people once they die?" mused Khione.
"Civil war will erupt. The chaos will send the West spiralling into destruction. Sending them an unusually cold winter this year might be the ice-ing on that cake"
"I do love stirring the pot"
"NOW!"
Alfred body-slammed Iran, while Matthew lunged for Khione. The element of surprise over, Iran recovered and knocked Alfred back with a magical shock wave. Khione dissolved into snow and reformed at another spot.
"Who dares?! Not even that imp Valdez was bold to barge into my mansion uninvited!" shrieked Khione.
Canada's head tilted. "Your mansion? Isn't it your father's?"
Iran laughed. "Not after I killed Boreas and dissolved his divine essence into the Djinnfire. All pagan gods who get in my way will be purged, adding to my power!"
"And I love a man who's unafraid to wield it," added Khione.
It wasn't good, thought Alfred. If Iran had gotten this powerful on the magical side, there was no telling how amped up his military was.
"With the North Wind gone, the climate will be even more unbalanced," said Canada.
"Greta Thunberg's gonna be pissed"
"No heathen girl will be allowed to speak so boldly once the Hegemony is in control!" Iran conjured Djinnfire at them, the flames exploding on contact with anything solid.
Canada and America dodged. Khione mingled her winds with Iran's fire, amplifying the power of the magic. Al and Matt ran for cover.
"It's no use! You won't get out of this place alive!"
"Could you use a more original line?! And by the way, that little storm you're making doesn't pick favorites!"
Iran pondered this and realized he and Khione had conjured a localized storm that swept them off their feet, knocking them into each other and then onto the floor. Cold.
Alfred whooped. "Alright, now let's free the hostages, Matt! Matt?"
No answer.
A sharp pain at the back of his head blossomed into icy darkness. Alfred reeled and fell to the floor, the cloaked figure hovering in front of him. From his angle, he finally saw the person underneath: He saw the face of a young woman, with tanned skin and sapphire eyes.
Belgium was right, he thought, before the world went black.
Israel had turned.