They were all exhausted.

Emilia had heard of how terrible road trips were. She couldn't really remember the one she and her aunt took to get from San Diego to San Francisco. Her most recent memories involved school field trips. In a way that was still less enjoyable than being on a flying dragon with people she barely knew, on her way to attempt a quest she might not survive.

They'd been flying for a while when, out of nowhere, Leo muttered, "Shut up, me."

Emilia made a face, snapped out of her own thoughts about sitting in the back of a school bus wanting everyone to be quiet. Now that it was quiet, it wasn't actually all that fun. "Huh?"

"Nothing," he said. "Long night. I think I'm hallucinating. It's cool." He took their silence as a bad sign. "Just joking. So, what's the plan, bro? You said something about catching wind, or breaking wind, or something?"

As they began to fly over New England, Jason laid out the game plan. First up, they had to find Boreas, the North Wind.

"His name is Boreas?" Leo asked. "What is he, the God of Boring?"

Jason and Piper found this funny but Emilia struggled to muster up a genuine laugh. After they grilled Boreas for information, Jason thought it would be a good idea to find the specific 'venti' that attacked them at the Grand Canyon, right before they were brought to camp.

"Can we just call them storm spirits?" Leo had interjected. "Venti makes them sound like evil espresso drinks."

Emilia wasn't sure what he was talking about but once more, Piper and Jason were enjoying his comments. Third, Jason said they'd find who the storm spirits worked for, locate Hera, and free her. Maybe, they'd find a lead on their protector, Gleeson Hedge, too.

"So you want to look for Dylan," said Leo, "the nasty storm dude, on purpose. The guy who threw me off the skywalk and sucked Coach Hedge into the clouds."

"That's about it," said Jason. "Well... there may be a wolf involved, too. But I think she's friendly. She probably won't eat us, unless we show weakness." He told them about a strange dream he had, something about the Redlands in northern California, involving a big nasty mother wolf and a burned-out house with stone spires growing out of the swimming pool.

"Lupa," recalled Emilia. "The founding of Rome." When no one replied, she said awkwardly, "She kept Romulus and Remus alive, they quarreled, Romulus founded Rome... I learned about it in my Italian class. Anyway, it makes sense that that'd be in NorCal. There's Jack London Square in Oakland and his Wolf House in Glen Ellen. That's all I can think about involving wolves there. Must be one of those two, probably the second one."

(She felt she should know more about the Bay Area, given she grew up there, but her knowledge of it would be pretty useless unless they needed to drive around. Then, at least, she might recognize the freeway signs. But to know about more significant places they'd need a miracle, and miracles steered clear of Emilia.)

"There's also giants," added Piper. "The prophecy said the giants' revenge."

"Hold on," said Leo. "Giants– like more than one? Why can't it be just one giant who wants revenge?"

"I don't think so. I remember in some of the old Greek stories, there was something about an army of giants."

Emilia murmured under her breath, "Oh, there is."

Of course you remember that, my brilliant little lieutenant. I once told you that I wanted you to try and bring me a giant, a real giant, and you almost brought me Typhon all on your own... but thankfully, Percy Jackson helped us there, didn't he? Even you had your limits... but you'd stretch them thin if I willed you to.

"Great," muttered Leo. "Of course, with our luck, it's an army. So you know anything else about these giants?" He directed the question to Piper, presumably. "Didn't you do a bunch of myth research for that movie with your dad?"

Jason asked, "Your dad's an actor?"

Leo laughed, "I keep forgetting about your amnesia. Heh. Forgetting about amnesia. That's funny. But yeah, her dad's Tristan McLean."

Emilia and Jason were both confused. "Uh– Sorry, what was he in?"

"It doesn't matter," Piper said quickly, though she sounded relieved that the name 'Tristan McLean' rang absolutely no bells in their heads. Emilia had never even been in a movie theater. Her extent of movie watching boiled down to her tiny VHS player at her aunt's house, and there weren't many movies that religious woman would have approved of. The goriest film she'd ever watched was The Passion of Christ.

You could make even your aunt bend to your will if you wanted her to. Her, your father, stepmother, your siblings. If they saw you now, they'd cower at your feet, declaring themselves unworthy. They'd beg you for forgiveness, they'd beg you for even a show of your power.

"The giants," continued Piper, "well, there were lots of giants in Greek mythology. But if I'm thinking of the right ones, they were bad news. Huge, almost impossible to kill. They could throw mountains and stuff. I think they were related to the Titans. They rose from the earth after Kronos lost the war– I mean the first Titan war, thousands of years ago– and they tried to destroy Olympus."

"The Titans were Gaea's children with Ouranos," said Emilia, "and the giants were her children with Tartarus. Each giant was the bane of one of the Olympians, so there's too many of them. I remember learning about Porphyrion, Polybotes, Alcyoneus, Enceladus, Ephialtes, Otis, Damasen, Clytius, Orion, Hippolytos, Mimas, Thoon, and Periboia. Kronos had... a lot to say about them."

"Chiron said it was happening again," said Jason nervously. "The last chapter. That's what he meant. No wonder he didn't want us to know all the details."

Leo whistles. "So... giants who can throw mountains. Friendly wolves that will eat us if we show weakness. Evil espresso drinks. Gotcha. Maybe this isn't the time to bring up my psycho babysitter."

"Is that another joke?" asked Piper.

Apparently not. Leo had a handful of disturbing stories about a babysitter he had named Tía Callida, a woman who was actually Hera and raved about him being her hero whilst putting him in ridiculously dangerous situations.

He even shared quietly about his mother's death, how the machine shop had collapsed and she was crushed inside. That night, he'd caught a glimpse of a strange woman in earthen robes who seemed to be asleep, and seemed to know the future. Nobody wanted to ponder too long about who it was because deep down, Emilia was sure they knew.

"That's... disturbing," said Piper after several beats of silence.

"'Bout sums it up," Leo agreed. Emilia found it strange how this disturbed them more than the things she'd done. Maybe she really wasn't as bad as she thought. She at least wasn't putting babies to nap in fires and she certainly wasn't giving them knives and snakes. "Thing is, everybody says don't trust Hera. She hates demigods. And the prophecy said we'd cause death if we unleash her rage but something about that is our only hope. So I'm wondering... why are we doing this?"

"She chose us," said Jason. "All four of us. We're the first of the eight who have to gather for the Great Prophecy. This quest is the beginning of something much bigger. Besides, helping Hera is the only way I can get back my memory. And that dark spire in my dream seemed to be feeding on Hera's energy. If that thing unleashes a king of the giants by destroying Hera–"

"Not a good trade-off," Piper agreed. "At least Hera is on our side– mostly. Losing her would throw the gods into chaos. She's the main one who keeps peace in the family. And a war with the giants could be even more destructive than the Titan War."

"Whatever this threat truly is," offered Emilia, "the Olympians can't afford to be fractured. The way they were before... it's why Kronos almost beat them. Were it not for the demigods, the world would be... really different. Hera, for better or worse, is a necessary player. Whatever game she has going on with Jason and Percy, with us, it has to be seen to the finish line. And let's not even get started on sleeping earth lady and the 'stirring' Chiron mentioned. If... if this has anything to do with Gaea... I don't even want to think about it."

Festus seemed to continue moving on his own, even after they'd all gone silent and elected to simply enjoy the flight, which was hard to do considering they were all contemplating and accepting their imminent demise.

There came a point where Piper reached over Emilia to tell Leo to go to sleep. Afterwards, she told Piper and Jason to get some rest, too. She figured the dragon could direct itself for a bit, and if anything went wrong, she'd just shake Leo awake. She'd be sure to give a firm tap, because she wasn't sure she could shadow travel them all to safety if things went sideways.

Emilia preferred the silence, remembering the feeling of being in her cabin alone, especially on the days where the voice in her head found nothing rude to say or no horrible way to twist her words and thoughts to make her hate being alive.

She remained still once she realized Piper was leaning onto her. She'd never had anyone so much as nap on her shoulder; everyone kept their distance pretty pronounced when Emilia exuded the energy she did. Maybe this was a sign of progress or maybe these half-bloods were simply too kind.

You think because of this, all of them are good, all of them are worthy. What if I told you that you don't deserve their kindness?

She squeezed her eyes tight together, trying to push the voice away. She tried to focus on the fact that these kids, who'd all been through hell, weren't afraid of her. Piper was fine resting on her shoulders, Jason was fine keeping watch over all of them. They thought her necessary. She'd go as far as to assume they felt safe with her there.

Don't cry to me when they've stabbed you in the back, idiot girl.

She took her turn to keep watch once Jason grew tired. She kept in a locked position as Piper continued to doze on her shoulder, arms secured at her own knees so that she could grab onto Leo if he started to careen too far to either side.

She wasn't sure how to know when they'd reached Quebec. She had never seen pictures of it and doubted she could recognize any landmarks. But by then, Piper was awake, and she seemed to be able to tell where they were. She reached around Emilia's shoulder as the daylight faded, calling to Leo. "We're here."

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, the four of them beholding a city sat on a cliff overlooking a river. The plains around it were dusted with snow, but the city itself glowed warmly in the winter sunset. Buildings crowded together inside high walls in a medieval fashion. In the center was a castle with massive red brick walls and a square tower with a peaked, green gabled roof.

Emilia couldn't recall ever having been at peace enough to imagine herself as a princess. Most little children had their fantasies, but she recalled none. There wasn't a single princess on television that reminded her of herself. There were no Latina princesses anywhere on Disney, and the most recent film she heard of involved frogs, which she was no longer interested in because she wasn't a child anymore.

Still, a small part of her grew excited at the sight of a castle. It was beautiful, and she wanted to imagine a day of leisure in its halls, perhaps chasing a cat around or wearing a ball gown. She'd never gotten to be in one of those, but the idea hadn't exactly been unappealing.

"Tell me that's Quebec and not Santa's workshop," said Leo groggily, once they'd stopped gawking at the castle.

"Yeah, Quebec City," confirmed Piper. "One of the oldest cities in North America. Founded around sixteen hundred or so?"

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Your dad do a movie about that, too?"

She made a face at him. "I read sometimes, okay? Just because Aphrodite claimed me, doesn't mean I have to be an airhead."

"Feisty!" Leo said. "So you know so much, what's the castle?"

"A hotel, I think."

Leo laughed. "No way."

"She's not wrong," said Emilia, pointing down at the grand entrance. There were doormen and valets taking bags and driving away sleek black luxury cars. "It's for rich people, everyone's in suits and cloaks."

"Wait a second," said Leo. "The North Wind is staying in a hotel? That can't be–"

"Heads up, guys," Jason interrupted. "We got company!"

Rising from the top of the tower were two winged figures, similar to the angels that Emilia saw painted in churches. Except, these angels were pissed. They were armed in swords, resembling regular teenagers that had mysteriously dyed their hair an icy white and grown feathery purple wings.

Festus swooped to a halt in midair, wings beating and talons bared. "Steady, boy," urged Leo.

"What are those things?" said Emilia as they got closer. One was the size of an ox, with a bright red hockey jersey, baggy sweatpants, and black leather cleats. His eyes were bruised black and he was missing several teeth. The other had a mullet, pointy-leather shoes, too-tight designer pants, a silk shirt with three buttons open, all while looking severely malnourished. They didn't swirl like wild spirits, no, they were more solid.

The angels pulled up in front of the dragon and hovered there, swords at the ready. "No clearance," huffed the one in the hockey jersey.

"'Scuse me?" asked Leo.

"You have no flight plan on file," replied the one in the mullet. He spoke with a French-sounding accent, and while Emilia had not met many French people, she didn't think it sounded quite right. "This is restricted airspace."

"Destroy them?" offered the hockey angel hopefully.

Festus began to hiss steam. "You two would be lucky we don't destroy you," said Emilia flatly. "Who the hell are you two and what gives you the authority to say we can't be here? It's not like you own this strip of sky!"

They seemed offended she had never heard of them. "I am Cal!" the ox one grunted.

"That's short for Calais," said the other, rolling his eyes. "Sadly, my brother cannot say words with more than two syllables–"

"Pizza!" interrupted Cal. "Hockey! Destroy!"

"–which includes his own name," finished the other. Emilia wondered if maybe Cal had somehow received a permanent concussion from all the hockey he seemed to play.

"I am Cal," repeated Cal. "And this is Zethes! My brother!"

"Wow," said Leo. "That was almost three sentences, man! Way to go!"

Cal seemed pleased, probably because he thought this a compliment. Zethes grumbled, "Stupid buffoon. They make fun of you. But no matter. I am Zethes, which is short of Zethes. And this lady here–" he winked at Piper, an action that seemed to make half his face seize, "She can call me anything she likes. Perhaps she would like to have dinner with a famous demigod before we must destroy you?"

Piper sounded like she was choking. "That's... a truly horrifying offer."

"Famous demigod?" asked Emilia. "I've never even heard of you, how famous can you be?"

He sneered in her direction. "I don't need to ask who you are, I can smell Tartarus all over you. You, I've nothing to say to. We Boreads are romantic people but we draw the line when it comes to the Children of Nyx."

"Boreads?" Jason cut in. "Do you mean, like, the sons of Boreas?"

"Ah!" said Zethes. "So you've heard of us! We are our father's gatekeepers. So, you understand, we cannot have unauthorized people flying in this airspace on creaky dragons, scaring the silly mortal people." He pointed below, where the mortals were staring up at them, probably seeing a traffic helicopter flying too low. "Which is sadly why, unless this is an emergency landing, we will have to destroy you painfully."

"Destroy!" agreed Cal enthusiastically.

"Wait!" Piper said. "This is an emergency landing."

Though Cal was apparently disappointed to hear this, Zethes remained suspicious. "How does the pretty girl decide this is an emergency, then?"

"We have to see Boreas," said Piper convincingly. "It's totally urgent! Please?" She forced a sweet smile.

Zethes hummed. "Well... I hate to disappoint a lovely lady, but you see, my sister, she would have an avalanche if we allowed you–"

Emilia was about to threaten them with swallowing the entire city of Quebec with shadows, but Piper kept trying, "And our dragon is malfunctioning! It could crash any minute!"

Festus shuddered helpfully, then turned his head and spilled gunk out of his ear. Cal still seemed mildly devastated that they might not get a chance to destroy them, but the charmspeak was clearly working on Zethes. "Well, you are pretty," he told Piper. "I mean, you're right. A malfunctioning dragon– this could be an emergency."

"Destroy them later?" Cal offered.

"It will take some explaining," decided Zethes. "Father has not been kind to visitors lately. But, yes. Come, faulty dragon people. Follow us." The brothers sheathed their swords and guided them toward the tower, where they could make their landing.

"I love these guys," said Leo when he realized they were holding flashlights with orange cones, like the ones traffic controllers used on a runway. "Follow them?"

"We don't have a choice," muttered Emilia.

"We're already here," agreed Jason. "But I wonder why Boreas hasn't been kind to visitors."

"Pfft, he just hasn't met us," whistled Leo. "Festus, after those flashlights!"

He maneuvered them right to the tower, whose green gables split open, revealing an entrance wide enough for Festus. The top and bottom were lined with icicles like jagged teeth, and Emilia had to pull the shadows tighter around herself to keep warm.

They landed in a penthouse suite. The entry hall had vaulted ceilings forty feet high, huge draped windows, and lush oriental carpets. A staircase at the back of the room led up to another equally massive hall, and more corridors branched off to the left and right. A fine layer of frost covered all the furniture, and the curtains were frozen solid over ice-coated windows letting in a watery light from the sunset. Even the ceiling looked fuzzy with icicles.

"Guys," said Leo as they slid off the dragon. "Fix the thermostat in here, and I would totally move in."

"Not me," said Jason, looking uneasily at the staircase. "Something feels wrong. Something up there..."

Festus shuddered in agreement, snorting flames. "No, no, no!" said Zethes angrily, marching over to them. "The dragon must be deactivated. We can't have fire in here. The heat ruins my hair."

"S'okay, boy," soothed Leo as Festus growled and spun his drill-bit teeth. Leo faced Zethes, "The dragon's a little touchy about the whole deactivation concept. BUt I've got a better solution."

"Destroy?" Cal suggested.

"No, man. You gotta stop with the destroy talk. Just wait."

"Leo," said Piper nervously. "What are you–?"

"Watch and learn, beauty queen," he said. "When I was repairing Festus last night, I found all kinds of buttons. Some, you do not want to know what they do. But others... ah, here we go." He hooked his fingers behind the dragon's left foreleg. He pulled a switch, making Festus shudder from head to toe before he began to fold like origami, bronze plating stacked together and contracting until he was compressed in a rectangular metal wedge the size of a suitcase.

Leo tried to lift it, but it didn't budge. "Um... yeah. Hold on. I think– aha!" He clicked another button and the wedge grew a handle and wheels. "Ta-da! The world's heaviest carry-on bag."

"That's impossible," said Jason. "Something that big couldn't–"

"Stop!" Zethes ordered. Both he and Cal drew their swords. Emilia reached into the air, the shadows offering her spear, which she pushed out as a barrier between the Boreads and Leo.

"Not another step," warned Emilia, glaring down at the Boreads. It didn't help that on the ground, she was the shortest one present. Pollux better be right with his belief that her enemies' underestimation of her would lead to their doom.

"Step aside," Zethes sneered. "Who is that? A child of the South Wind, spying on us?"

"What?" said Leo. "No! Son of Hephaestus. Friendly blacksmith, no harm to anyone."

Cal growled. "Smell fire. Fire is bad."

"Oh!" said Leo. "Yeah, well... my clothes are kind of singed, and I've been working with oil, and–"

"No!" snarled Zethes. "We can smell fire, demigod. We assumed it was from the creaky dragon, but now the dragon is a suitcase. And I still smell fire... on you."

"You're about to smell even more fire if you don't back off," threatened Emilia, blocking Leo with her body. She didn't know why Leo looked so nervous; maybe he didn't like confrontation. "Hephaestus kids always smell strange. You clearly have never met one. They reek all the time."

"Gee, thanks," said Leo.

"Look," said Jason, trying to further dissolve the tension. "There's been a mistake. Leo isn't a fire guy. Tell them, Leo. Tell them you're not a fire guy."

"Um..."

"Zethes?" Piper offered, smiling again. "We're all friends here. Put down your swords and let's talk."

Zethes considered it. "The girl is pretty, and of course she cannot help being attracted to my amazingness; but sadly, I cannot romance her at this time."

"Did anyone else just throw up in their mouths?" said Emilia. "Listen, Boreads, I am about two seconds away from skewering you and sending you right to Tartarus. Sheathe your fucking swords or I'm going to slit your throats."

"Please," insisted Jason, motioning for her to be quiet. "Leo's just a son of Hephaestus. He's no threat. Piper here is a daughter of Aphrodite. Emilia is a daughter of Eris. I'm the son of Zeus. We're on a peaceful–"

"What did you say?" Zethes demanded. "You are the son of Zeus?"

Jason blinked. "Um.. yeah. That's a good thing, right? My name is Jason."

Cal lowered his sword. "Can't be Jason. Doesn't look the same."

Zethes squinted at the son of Zeus. "No, he is not our Jason. Our Jason was more stylist. Not as much as me– but stylish. Besides, our Jason died millenia ago."

"Wait," said Jason. "Your Jason... you mean the original Jason? The Golden Fleece guy?"

Zethes stared at him as if this should be obvious. "Of course. We were his crewmates aboard his ship, the Argo, in the old times, when we were mortal demigods. Then we accepted immortality to serve our father, so I could look this good for all time, and my silly brother could enjoy pizza and hockey. But Jason– our Jason– he died a mortal death. You can't be him."

Jason nodded. "I'm not."

"So, destroy?" Cal asked.

"No," said Zethes regretfully. "If he is a son of Zeus, he could be the one we've been watching for."

"Watching for?" asked Leo. "You mean like in a good way: you'll shower him with fabulous prizes? Or watching for like in a bad way: he's in trouble?"

A female voice came from the staircase. "That depends on my father's will."

At the top stood a girl 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 bore no smile, no expression, no lick of friendliness. She was like Emilia if she dealt with snow instead of shadows. Cold on purpose.

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

"Then it is him?" asked Zethes excitedly. Emilia rolled her eyes; what a pair of idiots.

"We'll see," said the girl. "Zethes, bring our guests." Just as they started to move, she gestured to Leo and Emilia. "Not you, Emilia Gonzalez, or you, Leo Valdez."

Leo almost seemed to whine. "Why not?"

"You cannot be in the presence of my father. Fire and ice– it would not be wise. And children of Tartarus are not welcome in the throne room. You should not even be inside this castle."

Jason frowned. "We're going together or not at all."

The girl didn't seem pleased to hear this. "They will not be harmed, Jason Grace, unless you make trouble. Calais, keep Emilia Gonzalez and Leo Valdez here. Guard them, but do not kill them."

Cal had the audacity to pout. "Just a little?"

"No," she insisted. "And take care of that interesting suitcase, until Father passes judgment."

"Go," said Emilia to Jason and Piper. At least Jason could fight if things got ugly. Piper's instincts might kick in even without experience. "We'll be fine."

"Listen to your friend," agreed the pale girl. "They will be perfectly safe. I wish I could say the same for you, son of Zeus. Now come, King Boreas is waiting."