Eventually, the smoke from the burning department store faded in the distance, but Leo didn't relax until the suburbs of Chicago gave way to snowy fields, and the sun began to set.
"Good job, Festus." He patted the dragon's metal hide. "You did awesome."
The dragon shuddered. Gears popped and clicked in his neck.
Leo frowned. He didn't like those noises. If the control disk was failing again—No, hopefully it was something minor. Something he could fix.
"I'll give you a tune-up next time we land," Leo promised. "You've earned some motor oil and Tabasco sauce."
Festus whirled his teeth, but even that sounded weak. He flew at a steady pace, his great wings angling to catch the wind, but he was carrying a heavy load. Two cages in his claws plus three people on his back. Even metal dragons had limits.
Beside them Valen stifled a yawn, grumbling, "I could really use some coffee right about now."
"How did you do that?" Piper asked suddenly.
"Huh?" Valen turned to face her, confused at her question.
"Resist Madea's charmspeak I mean."
"Oh that, I just created a vacuum over my ears so that no sound reached me. I essentially deafened myself." He explained, "Her magic wouldn't work if I couldn't hear it."
Leo turned around to face Jason "Can you do that too?"
Jason frowned and furrowed his brows, but all he could do was create an air barrier around his ears.
Valen shook his head, "At the speed we're going at, making a vacuum will be really hard. But the principles are easy enough. First you need to make a hollow air barrier around your ears, and make sure it's connected airtight to your head. Once you're done with that, drain out the air inside but be careful not to let the barrier collapse."
"..." Jason stared at him as he processed all he would need to do.
"If that's simple, I'd hate to see what you consider complicated." Leo joked.
Valen shrugged, although it looked more like jumping in midair, "It's not that bad."
Festus creaked again, and Leo turned his attention back to the bronze dragon. He couldn't go on like that for long.
"We're going to have to put down soon," he warned his friends. "Couple more hours, maybe, to make sure Medea's not following us. I don't think Festus can fly much longer than that."
"Yeah," Piper agreed. "Coach Hedge probably wants to get out of his canary cage, too. Question is—where are we going?"
"The Bay Area," Leo guessed. His memories of the department store were fuzzy, but he seemed to remember hearing that. "Didn't Medea say something about Oakland?"
Piper didn't respond for so long, Leo wondered if he'd said something wrong.
"Piper's dad," Jason put in. "Something's happened to your dad, right? He got lured into some kind of trap."
Piper let out a shaky breath. "Look, Medea said you would both die in the Bay Area. And besides … even if we went there, the Bay Area is huge! First, we need to find Aeolus and drop off the storm spirits. Boreas said Aeolus was the only one who could tell us exactly where to go."
Valen shrugged, "I'm fine with either, but personally I wouldn't put much trust in Medeas words."
Leo grunted. "So how do we find Aeolus?"
Jason leaned forward. "You mean you don't see it?" He pointed ahead of them, but there was nothing there except clouds and the lights of a few towns glowing in the dusk.
"What?" Leo asked.
"That … whatever it is," Jason said. "In the air."
Valen raised an eyebrow, "Did Medea drug you or something?"
Jason shook his head.
"Right," Leo said. "Could you be more specific on the 'whatever-it-is' part?"
"Like a vapor trail," Jason said. "Except it's glowing. Really faint, but it's definitely there. We've been following it since Chicago, so I figured you saw it."
Leo shook his head. "Maybe Festus can sense it. You think Aeolus made it?"
"Well, it's a magic trail in the wind," Jason said. "Aeolus is the wind god. I think he knows we've got prisoners for him. He's telling us where to fly."
"Or it's another trap," Piper said.
Valen raised an eyebrow at her tone, it sounded broken, devoid of hope. It was like she had let herself drown in despair.
Leo spoke first, "Pipes, you all right?"
"Don't call me that."
"Okay, fine. You don't like any of the names I make up for you. But if your dad's in trouble and we can help—"
"You can't," she said, her voice getting shakier. "Look, I'm tired. If you don't mind …"
She leaned back against Jason and closed her eyes.
They flew in silence for a while. Festus seemed to knowwhere he was going. He kept his course, gently curving toward the southwest and hopefully Aeolus's fortress.
A feeling of trepidation filled Valen, meeting a god would be all the confirmation he needed to decide whether he was back in his own world. He almost didn't want to know.
Beside him, Leo began dozing off on Festus, and Jason spoke, "Catch a few Z's. It's cool. Hand me the reins."
"Nah, I'm okay—"
"Leo," Jason said, "you're not a machine. Besides, I'm the only one who can see the vapor trail. I'll make sure we stay on course."
Leo's eyes started to close on their own. "All right. Maybe just …"
He didn't finish the sentence before slumping forward against the dragon's warm neck. As Leo began snoring, Jason turned to face Valen, "That includes you too."
Valen raised an eyebrow, "Say what?"
"You haven't slept one bit since we met, you can't just go on without sleep for so long." He said, staring into his eyes as if daring him to refuse.
"I can go on for a few more hours, don't worry," He reassured him.
Jason continued staring at him, "And what if you fall asleep mid air, I wouldn't be able to react in time to catch you."
Valen shrugged, "It won't come to that, I think."
Jason shook his head, "Go to sleep Valen. Here, I'll fly alongside Festus for a while, you can take my seat."
Valen sighed, it seemed he would not convince Jason otherwise. He shook his head, "Stay in your seat, I'll hang on Festus' claws."
He looked uncertain, "Are you sure?"
"I've done it before, I can do it again." Valen said. Before Jason could ask him anything about it, he flew down to the dragons forelegs and sat down on one of them. The limb tightened around him to keep him secure.
With another sigh, he let himself relax and fall unconscious.
He dreamt of an endless cosmos, the heart of a star enshrouded in green, and his reflection staring back at him. He touched the heart with his palm, and the green flames burned through him.
He awoke to the sounds of screaming. Something tugged at his neck, and he opened his eyes to see himself hanging on Festus' claw as the dragon spiralled downwards.
"Not again!" Leo yeled from somewhere above him. "You can't fall again!"
Reaching behind him, Valen freed himself from the dragon's claw. As he fell, the wind picked up around him and his descent slowed. He flew up to the others.
"Jason!" he heard Leo scream. "Take Piper and fly out of here!"
"What?"
"We need to lighten the load! I might be able to reboot Festus, but he's carrying too much weight!"
"What about you?" Piper cried. "If you can't reboot him—"
"I'll be fine," Leo yelled. "Just follow me to the ground. Go!"
"Want me to take the cages off your hands, err claws?" Valen asked.
"That would be great." Leo said as he got to work on the dragon. The cages rattled as Valen levitated them off of Festus' claws, and the dragon became visibly lighter.
Leo talked to the dragon while he worked, faling at terminal velocity. He could see the city lights below him, getting closer and closer. He summoned fire in his hand so he could see what he was doing, but the wind kept extinguishing it.
Valen slowly extended his sword towards him, careful to dull the blade with a constant current of wind, and the lightning flowing inside it gave Leo enough light to work.
He nodded in thanks as he pulled a wire that he thought connected the dragon's nerve center to its head, hoping for a little wake-up jolt.
Festus groaned—metal creaking inside his neck. His eyes flickered weakly to life, and he spread his wings. Their fall turned into a steep glide.
"Good!" Leo said. "Come on, big boy. Come on!"
They were still flying in way too hot, and the ground was too close. They needed a place to land—fast.
Leos eyes darted to the river and it seemed he was contemplating something before he decided against it. He then focused on a mansion near it, and an idea formed in his head.
Then everything went wrong. As they approached the lawn, spotlights along the fence fixed on them, and Valen had just enough time to rip Leo away from Festus and land on the lawn. He watched regrettably as the dragon was torn to shreds.
"No!" Leo screamed as he escaped Valens grip and ran towards Festus. Jason and Piper landed beside him, and the three shared a glance.
The dragon had disintegrated. His limbs were scattered across the lawn. His tail hung on the fence. The main section of his body had plowed a trench twenty feet wide and fifty feet long across the mansion's yard before breaking apart. What remained of his hide was a charred, smoking pile of scraps. Only his neck and head were somewhat intact, resting across a row of frozen rosebushes like a pillow.
"No," Leo sobbed. He ran to the dragon's head and stroked its snout. The dragon's eyes flickered weakly. Oil leaked out of his ear.
"You can't go," Leo pleaded. "You're the best thing I ever fixed."
The dragon's head whirred its gears, as if it were purring. Jason, Piper and Valen stood beside him in silence, but Leo kept his eyes fixed on the dragon.
"It's not fair," he said.
The dragon clicked. Long creak. Two short clicks. Creak. Creak.
Morse code? Valen thought, though he could not understand what it said.
.
"Yeah," Leo said. "I understand. I wi l. I promise."
The dragon's eyes went dark. Festus was gone. And Leo cried.
Jason and Piper comforted him, patting his back. And Valen stayed behind his eyes darting to the turrets that had attacked them. A normal human wouldn't have defences that strong in their yard. He could understand if it damaged Festus, but outright disintegrating it was beyond what a mortal needed for protection.
"I'm so sorry, man. What did you promise Festus?" Jason asked.
Leo sniffled. He opened the dragon's head panel, just to be sure, but the control disk was cracked and burned beyond repair.
"Something my dad told me," Leo said. "Everything can be reused."
"Your dad talked to you?" Jason asked. "When was this?"
Leo didn't answer. He worked at the dragon's neck hinges until the head was detached. It weighed about a hundred pounds, but Leo managed to hold it in his arms.
He looked up at the starry sky and said, "Take him back to the bunker, Dad. Please, until I can reuse him. I've never asked you for anything."
The wind picked up, and the dragon's head floated out of Leo's arms like it weighed nothing. It flew into the sky and disappeared.
Piper looked at him in amazement. "He answered you?"
"I had a dream," Leo managed. "Tell you later."
He looked around. The large white mansion glowed in the center of the grounds. Tal brick wals with lights and security cameras surrounded the perimeter, but now Leo could see—or rather sense—just how wel those wals were defended
"Where are we?" he asked. "I mean, what city?"
"Omaha, Nebraska," Piper said. "I saw a bilboard as we flew in. But I don't know what this mansion is. We came in right behind you, but as you were landing, Leo, I swear it looked like —I don't know—"
"Lasers," Leo said. He picked up a piece of dragon wreckage and threw it toward the top of the fence.
Immediately a turret popped up from the brick wall and a beam of pure heat incinerated the bronze plating to ashes.
Jason whistled. "Some defense system. How are we even alive?"
"Festus," Leo said miserably. "He took the fire. The lasers sliced him to bits as he came in so they didn't focus on you. I led him into a death trap."
"You couldn't have known," Piper said. "He saved our lives again."
"But what now?" Jason said. "The main gates are locked, and I'm guessing I can't fly us out of here without getting shot down."
"I'd suggest breaking the fence altogehter, but that would take too much time.
Leo nodded and looked up the walkway at the big white mansion. "Since we can't go out, we'll have to go in."
.
.
.
They would have died at least five times on the way to the front door if not for Leo.
First, it was the motion-activated trapdoor on the sidewalk, then the lasers on the steps, then the nerve gas dispenser on the porch railing, the pressure-sensitive poison spikes in the welcome mat, and of course the exploding doorbell.
With every trap, Valen's suspicion grew even stronger. The entire thing reeked of monster work. Leo deactivated all of them. It was like he could smell the traps, and he picked just the right tool out of his belt to disable them.
"You're amazing, man," Jason said.
Leo scowled as he examined the front door lock. "Yeah, amazing," he said. "Can't fix a dragon right, but I'm amazing."
"Hey, that wasn't your—"
"Front door's already unlocked," Leo announced.
Piper stared at the door in disbelief. "It is? All those traps, and the door's unlocked?"
Leo turned the knob. The door swung open easily. He stepped inside without hesitation. Valen walked in after him, and the darkness inside seemed unnatural to him. As a son of Hades, he had always had some form of night vision, but without his shadow based powers, he lacked any of that.
the only illumination came from the yard lights outside. A faint glow peeked through the breaks in the thick velvet curtains. The windows rose about ten feet tall. Spaced between them along the walls were life-size metal statues.
As his eyes adjusted, he saw sofas arranged in a U in the middle of the room, with a central coffee table and one large chair at the far end. A massive chandelier glinted overhead. Along the back wall stood a row of closed doors.
"Where's the light switch?" Jason asked, his voice echoed alarmingly through the room.
"Don't see one," Leo said.
"Fire?" Piper suggested.
Leo held out his hand, but nothing happened. "It's not working."
"Your fire is out? Why?" Piper asked.
"Well, if I knew that—"
"Okay, okay," she said. "What do we do—explore?"
Leo shook his head. "After all those traps outside? Bad idea."
"That sounds like the premise to a bad horror movie." Valen said dryly.
"It does," He said with a hint of amusement in his voice.
"It's a few hours until dawn," Jason guessed. "Too cold to wait outside. Let's bring the cages in and make camp in this room. Wait for daylight; then we can decide what to do."
Nobody offered a better idea, so they rolled in the cages with Coach Hedge and the storm spirits, then settled in.
Leo didn't seem in the mood to make more tacos. Besides, they had no fire, so they settled for cold rations.
Valen sat on the ground, away from the rest as he meditated in silence. Flying for an extended period of time was exhausting, and his manuever with the cages and Leo had cost him even more mana. The mansion was teeming with it, it was concentrated to a degree that it was hard to cast any spells without precise understanding of magic.
Is that why Leo cannot summon his fire?
As he expanded his senses even further, he felt dozens of concentrated masses of mana in roughly humanoid shapes, and a shiver ran down his spine. His eyes snapped open, but his surroundings were the same as they had been before. A few feet away from him, Leo worked on the cages, while Jason and Piper slept on the sofa.
He got up and approached one of the statues, and sure enough, they were the source of the concentrated mana. Stormguard manifested in his arm in a clink, and the light from the thunder fell on the statue.
Gold. Valen thought as he stumbled backwards. It's just like Medusa's garden.
As if on cue, the sun rose over the horizon and streaks of sunlight fell through the windows, illuminating the shadows in all their gilded glory.
"Midas…" Valen muttered
"Ahhhggggggh!"
He whirled around with Stormguard held high, on full alert. He saw Jason leap awake to the sound, and look as confused as a deer caught in headlights. The Satyr they rescued was the one responsible for the noise.
"Coach is awake," Leo said, which was kind of unnecessary. Gleeson Hedge was capering around on his furry hindquarters, swinging his club and yelling, "Die!" as he smashed the tea set, whacked the sofas, and charged at the throne.
"Coach!" Jason yelled.
Hedge turned, breathing hard. The satyr was wearing a orange polo shirt and a coach's whistle, and his horns were clearly visible above his curly hair.
"You're the new kid," Hedge said, lowering his club. "Jason." He looked at Leo, then Piper, who'd apparently also just woken up. Her hair looked like it had become a nest for a friendly hamster.
"Valdez, McLean," the coach said. "What's going on? We were at the Grand Canyon. The anemoi thuellai were attacking and—" He zeroed in on the storm spirit cage, and his eyes went back to DEFCON 1. "Die!"
"Whoa, Coach!" Leo stepped in his path, which was pretty brave, even though Hedge was six inches shorter. "It's okay. They're locked up. We just sprang you from the other cage."
"Cage? Cage? What's going on? Just because I'm a satyr doesn't mean I can't have you doing plank push-ups, Valdez!"
Jason cleared his throat. "Coach—Gleeson—um, whatever you want us to call you. You saved us at the Grand Canyon. You were totally brave."
"Of course I was!"
"The extraction team came and took us to Camp Half-Blood. We thought we'd lost you. Then we got word the stormspirits had taken you back to their—um, operator, Medea."
"That witch! Wait—that's impossible. She's mortal. She's dead."
"Yeah, well," Leo said, "somehow she got not dead anymore."
Hedge nodded, his eyes narrowing. "So! You were sent on a dangerous quest to rescue me. Excellent!"
"Um." Piper got to her feet, holding out her hands so Coach Hedge wouldn't attack her. "Actually, Glee—can I still call you Coach Hedge? Gleeson seems wrong. We're on a quest for something else. We kind of found you by accident."
"Oh." The coach's spirits seemed to deflate, but only for a second. Then his eyes lit up again. "But there are no accidents! Not on quests. This was meant to happen! So, this is the witch's lair, eh? Why is everything gold?"
"Gold?" Jason looked around.
That was when Valen intervened, "If you lot are done bickering, shall we turn to more pressing issues?"
Hedge narrowed his eyes at him, "Who are you?"
"A demigod," Valen said, "sorta."
"Of course you are, you smell like one. Although its a bit stronger than usual. But you're not a demigod I know, tell me who you are or I will introduce you to my club."
"Cyrus Delphon, a camper."
"You're lying," He said, "I don't know of any camper named Cyrus."
"..." Valen stared at him neutrally for a moment, before turning to Jason, "We need to get out of here, this is Mi-"
He had to cut himself short to dodge the satyr's lunging blow that was bound to have cracked his skull otherwise.
"As I was saying, this is Mida-"
This time he was interrupted by a door opening at the far end of the room. A pudgy man in a white bathrobe stepped out with a golden toothbrush in his mouth. He had a white beard and one of those long, old-fashioned sleeping caps pressed down over his white hair. He froze when he saw them, and the toothbrush fell out of his mouth. He glanced into the room behind him and called, "Son? Lit, come out here, please. There are strange people in the throne room." Coach Hedge did the obvious thing. He raised his club and shouted, "Die!
It took three of them to stop the satyr. "Woah Coach," Jason said "Bring it down a few notches."
A younger man charged into the room. Jason guessed he must be Lit, the old guy's son. He was dressed in pajama pants with a sleeveless T-shirt that said cornhuskers, and he held a sword that looked like it could husk a lot of things besides corn. His ripped arms were covered in scars, and his face, framed by curly dark hair, would've been handsome if it wasn't also sliced up.
Lit immediately zeroed in on Valen like he was the biggest threat, and stalked toward him, swinging his sword overhead. Valen tilted his head, summoning his own sword, and taking a stance as if to say 'Do your worst.'
"Hold on!" Piper stepped forward, trying for her best calming voice. "This is just a misunderstanding! Everything's fine."
Lit stopped in his tracks, but he still looked wary. It didn't help that Hedge was screaming, "I'll get them! Don't worry!"
"Coach," Jason pleaded, "they may be friendly. Besides, we're trespassing in their house."
"Thank you!" said the old man in the bathrobe. "Now, who are you, and why are you here?"
"Let's all put our weapons down," Piper said. "Coach, you first."
Hedge clenched his jaw. "Just one thwack?"
"No," Piper said. "What about a compromise? I'll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I'll apologize."
"No!" Piper insisted.
"Meh." Coach Hedge lowered his club.
She turned to Valen, giving him a pointed look. He sighed almost disappointedly as he 'sheathed' his sword.
Piper gave Lit a friendly sorry-about-that smile
Lit huffed and sheathed his sword. "You speak well, girl —fortunately for your friends, or Iwould've run them through."
"Doubt it." Valen retorted.
"Appreciate it," Leo interrupted. "I try not to get run through before lunchtime."
The old man in the bathrobe sighed, kicking the teapot that Coach Hedge had smashed. "Well, since you're here. Please, sit down."
Lit frowned. "Your Majesty—"
"No, no, it's fine, Lit," the old man said. "New land, new customs. They may sit in my presence. After all, they've seen me in my nightclothes. No sense observing formalities." He did his best to smile, though it looked a little forced. "Welcome to my humble home. I am-
"Midas of the gold-touch." Valen said.
"So you know of me then?" He said.
Valen scoffed, "The 'statues' practically scream it out."
The king chuckled, "Yes, I suppose they do."
"Midas? Impossible," said Coach Hedge. "He died."
They were sitting on the sofas now, while the king reclined on his throne. Lit stood behind the throne, both hands on his sword, glaring at Valen still.
Piper sat forward. "What our satyr friend means, Your Majesty, is that you're the second mortal we've met who should be—sorry—dead. King Midas lived thousands of years ago."
"Interesting." The king gazed out the windows at the brilliant blue skies and the winter sunlight. In the distance, downtown Omaha looked like a cluster of children's blocks —way too clean and small for a regular city.
"You know," the king said, "I think Iwas a bit dead for a while. It's strange. Seems like a dream, doesn't it, Lit?"
"A very long dream, Your Majesty."
"And yet, now we're here. I'm enjoying myself very much. I like being alive better."
"But how?" Piper asked. "You didn't happen to have a … patron?"
Midas hesitated, but there was a sly twinkle in his eyes. "Does it matter, my dear?"
"We could kill them again," Hedge suggested.
"Coach, not helping," Jason said. "Why don't you go outside and stand guard?"
Leo coughed. "Is that safe? They've got some serious security."
"Oh, yes," the king said. "Sorry about that. But it's lovely stuff, isn't it? Amazing what gold can still buy. Such excellent toys you have in this country!"
He fished a remote control out of his bathrobe pocket and pressed a few buttons—a pass code, perhaps.
"There," Midas said. "Safe to go out now."
Coach Hedge grunted. "Fine. But if you need me …" He winked at Jason meaningfully. Then he pointed at himself, pointed two fingers at their hosts, and sliced a finger across his throat. Very subtle sign language.
"Yeah, thanks," Jason said.
As the satys walked past Valen, he paused, "You and me are gonna have a talk after this cupcake."
"Sure thing old goat."
After the satyr left, Piper tried another diplomatic smile. "So … you don't know how you got here?"
"Oh, well, yes. Sort of," the king said. He frowned at Lit. "Why did we pick Omaha, again? I know it wasn't the weather."
"The oracle," Lit said.
"Yes! I was told there was an oracle in Omaha." The king shrugged. "Apparently I was mistaken. But this is a rather nice house, isn't it? Lit—it's short for Lityerses, by the way—horrible name, but his mother insisted—Lit has plenty of wide-open space to practice his swordplay. He has quite a reputation for that. They called him the Reaper of Men back in the old days."
"Oh." Piper tried to sound enthusiastic. "How nice."
Lit smiled, but it was closer to an evil sneer.
"So," Jason said. "All this gold—"
The king's eyes lit up. "Are you here for gold, my boy? Please, take a brochure!"
Jason looked at the brochures on the coffee table. The title said GOLD: Invest for Eternity. "Um, you sell gold?"
"No, no," the king said. "I make it. In uncertain times like these, gold is the wisest investment, don't you think? Governments fall. The dead rise. Giants attack Olympus. But gold retains its value!"
Leo frowned. "I've seen that commercial."
"Oh, don't be fooled by cheap imitators!" the king said. "I assure you, I can beat any price for a serious investor. I can make a wide assortment of gold items at a moment's notice."
"But …" Piper shook her head in confusion. "Your Majesty, you gave up the golden touch, didn't you?"
The king looked astonished. "Gave it up?"
"Yes," Piper said. "You got it from some god—"
"Dionysus," the king agreed. "I'd rescued one of his satyrs, and in return, the god granted me one wish. I chose the golden touch."
Of course its Dionysus. Who else would be giving literal superpowers to people like him. Valen grumbled mentally.
"But you accidentally turned your own daughter to gold," Piper remembered. "And you realized how greedy you'd been. So you repented."
"Repented!" King Midas looked at Lit incredulously. "You see, son? You're away for a few thousand years, and the story gets twisted all around. My dear girl, did those stories ever say I'd lost my magic touch?"
"Well, I guess not. They just said you learned how to reverse it with running water, and you brought your daughter back to life."
"That's all true. Sometimes I still have to reverse my touch. There's no running water in the house because I don't want accidents"—he gestured to his statues—"but we chose to live next to a river just in case. Occasionally, I'll forget and pat Lit on the back—"
Lit retreated a few steps. "I hate that."
"I told you I was sorry, son. At any rate, gold is wonderful. Why would I give it up?"
"Well …" Piper looked truly lost now. "Isn't that the point of the story? That you learned your lesson?"
Midas laughed. "My dear, may I see your backpack for a moment? Toss it here."
Piper hesitated, but she wasn't eager to offend the king. She dumped everything out of the pack and tossed it to Midas. As soon as he caught it, the pack turned to gold, like frost spreading across the fabric. It still looked flexible and soft, but definitely gold. The king tossed it back.
"As you see, I can still turn anything to gold," Midas said. "That pack is magic now, as well. Go ahead—put your little storm spirit enemies in there."
"Seriously?" Leo was suddenly interested. He took the bag from Piper and held it up to the cage. As soon as he unzipped the backpack, the winds stirred and howled in protest. The cage bars shuddered. The door of the prison flew open and the winds got vacuumed straight into the pack. Leo zipped it shut and grinned. "Gotta admit. That's cool."
"You see?" Midas said. "My golden touch a curse? Please. I didn't learn any lesson, and life isn't a story, girl. Honestly, my daughter Zoe was much more pleasant as a gold statue."
"She talked a lot," Lit offered.
"Exactly! And so I turned her back to gold." Midas pointed. There in the corner was a golden statue of a girl with a shocked expression, as if she were thinking, Dad!
Valens fingers twitched, and he placed his thumb on his ring, a sense of anger filled his body.
"That's horrible!" Piper said.
"Nonsense. She doesn't mind. Besides, if I'd learned my lesson, would I have gotten these?"
Midas pulled off his oversize sleeping cap. He had long fuzzy gray ears sticking up from his white hair—like Bugs Bunny's, but they weren't rabbit ears. They were donkey ears.
"Oh, wow," Leo said. "I didn't need to see that."
"Terrible, isn't it?" Midas sighed. "A few years after the golden touch incident, I judged a music contest betweenApollo and Pan, and I declared Pan the winner. Apollo, sore loser, said I must have the ears of an ass, and voilà. This was my reward for being truthful. I tried to keep them a secret. Only my barber knew, but he couldn't help blabbing." Midas pointed out another golden statue—a bald man in a toga, holding a pair of shears. "That's him. He won't be telling anyone's secrets again."
The king smiled. His eyes had a merry glow to them—the look of a madman who knew he was mad, accepted his madness, and enjoyed it. "Yes, gold has many uses. I think that must be why I was brought back, eh Lit? To bankroll our patron."
Lit nodded. "That and my good sword arm."
King Midas waved his hand dismissively. "Well, I don't care for giants myself, of course. But even supernatural armies need to get paid. I do owe my patron a great debt. I tried to explain that to the last group that came through, but they were very unfriendly. Wouldn't cooperate at all."
Jason slipped his hand into his pocket and grabbed his gold coin. "The last group?"
"Hunters," Lit snarled. "Blasted girls from Artemis."
A shiver ran down Valens spine, and the rage dissipated, "The hunters were here?"
"When?" Jason suddenly demanded. "What happened?"
Lit shrugged. "Few days ago? I didn't get to kill them, unfortunately. They were looking for some evil wolves, or something. Said they were following a trail, heading west. Missing demigod—I don't recall."
Midas scratched his donkey ears. "Very unpleasant young ladies, those Hunters," he recalled. "They absolutely refused to be turned into gold. Much of the security system outside I installed to keep that sort of thing from happening again, you know. I don't have time for those who aren't serious investors."
"How the hell are you two even alive then?" Valen asked, and they turned to him.
"What do you mean?" Midas asked.
"The hunters are strong enough to slaughter you two multiple times over, they must have been in a hurry if they let you go." He said, summoning Stormguard, "I guess we'll just have to do their job for them."
Midas stood up, and advanced towards Piper and Leo faster than he should be capable of. Valen flicked his fingers, pushing him away and pulling his comrades back.
ollect." "Hedge!" Jason yelled. "Need help in here!"
For once, the satyr didn't charge in.
Midas chuckled. "No goat to the rescue? Sad. But don't worry, my boy. It's really not painful. Lit can tell you."
"Piper, Leo, stand back. Jason, come with me." Valen ordered, "I challenge Lityerses to combat, Jason keep the King at bay."
"Do you really think you can best us both?" Midas asked, as if he was genuinely confused.
"I'm going to enjoy this," Lit said. "I am the Reaper of Men!"
Valen scoffed, "I have fought literal Titans boy, you don't scare me."
"Not yet," He taunted, and charged.
He was fast, slashing, and hacking at every opportunity, giving Valen no chance to rest. But thats all there was to it. He was pure offence, no defence.
As Valen parried the last hit, he glanced to his side, and noticed Jason desperately fighting off the king. He had to be careful not to let him touch him, but that meant he could only focus on defending himself.
Turning his attention back to the cornhusker, Valen let the thunder flow through his sword. The blades connected again, and a jolt of electricity went up Lityerses' arm, slackening his grip on his sword.
A gust of wind struck him, and the sword was torn away from his arm. Lityerses' shocked face soon turned into one of pain and anger as he felt the stygian iron blade stab through his heart.
"You're a good swordsman," Valen said, twisting the blade as Lityerses screamed in agony, "But you had the misfortune of not being born into power."
The thunder flowed out of Valen's sword, flashing red for a moment as it seared through Lityerses' body, and returned to the blade. His corpse dissolving into golden dust.
On the other side, Jason was having trouble with Midas. Midas raced forward. Jason dodged, but the old man was fast, too. Jason kicked the coffee table into the old man's legs and knocked him over, but Midas wouldn't stay down for long
The king turned to Lit when he heard him scream, and saw him turn to golden dust before his eyes. He knew his son would be back soon, but it still filled him with an anger. Anger, that he would take out on the demigods.
He assaulted Jason again, each time he got closer and closer to touching him. One touch was all it would take to win.
A sudden gust of wind pushed him back, and he glared irritably at Valen, "Don't interfere!"
"Oh I don't plan to," Valen said, tossing his sword to Jason, "Call the thunder," He said, "Let it roar."
Jason grabbed the sword out of mid air, and it was like a second source of power to him. He looked at the stygian iron blade, and the calm lightning that flowed through it. He felt a tugging sensation in his gut, and the air pressure dropped so rapidly that his ears popped.
Midas must've felt it too, because he stumbled to his feet and grabbed his donkey ears."Ow! What are you doing?" he demanded. "My power is supreme here!" Thunder rumbled and storm clouds gathered outside.
"You know another good use for gold?" Jason said.
"What?"
"It's an excellent conductor of electricity."
He raised the sword, and the ceiling explodedd. A lightning bolt ripped through the roof like it was an eggshell, connected with Stormguards blade, and sent out arcs of energy that blasted the sofas to shreds. Chunks of ceiling plaster crashed down. The chandelier groaned and snapped offits chain, and Midas screamed as it pinned him to the floor. The glass immediately turned into gold.
When the rumbling stopped, freezing rain poured into the building. Midas cursed in Ancient Greek, thoroughly pinned under his chandelier. The rain soaked everything, turning the gold chandelier back to glass.
Then the front door burst open, and Coach Hedge charged in, club ready. His mouth was covered with dirt, snow, and grass. "What'd I miss?" he asked.
"Where were you?" Jason demanded. "I was screaming for help."
Hedge belched. "Getting a snack. Sorry. Who needs killing?"
Jason shook his head, "No one now, come on lets go."
"Don't leave me like this!" Midas wailed. All around him the statues of his victims were turning to flesh—his daughter, his barber, and a whole lot of angrylooking guys with swords.
Jason threw the sword back to Valen, and gathered his supplies, "Let's get out of here."