Amber looked around, noting the architecture of each building they were passing over. Annabeth would've loved it. She wondered if Nico had been there before while shadow-travelling.

Oh, wait, she realized. Another mystery that circulates around Jason: Nico knows him somehow.

Right, Emerald hissed. But how, exactly?

I don't know. But Nico seems to trust him, and that's good enough for me.

In front of them, Piper shook Leo awake.

"We're here," she said. Leo rubbed his eyes.

"Tell me that's Quebec and not Santa's workshop," he said.

"It's Santa's workshop," Amber informed him. "Can't you see all the elves? Oh, hey, I bet you'd fit right in with them!" Piper and Jason laughed at that, and Amber could tell Leo was rolling his eyes.

"It's Quebec city, yeah," Piper confirmed.

"One of the oldest cities in North America. Founded in 1608," Amber said. "Site of quite a few wars and war preparations. Children of Athena and Ares met in battle here many times. The place where poutine was originated."

"Right. How could I have forgotten? I'm friends with the biggest nerd in history," Leo said, facepalming himself. Piper snorted while Jason chuckled.

"Get to know Annabeth more, and you'll quickly find out who the bigger nerd is," Amber told him.

"Nope. I do not need two people spitting random facts at me 24/7," Leo groaned. "But, since you know so much, what's that castle?" He pointed to a building with massive red brick walls and a square tower with a peaked, green gabled roof.

They think they have it bad? Half the time, I'm basically reading your thoughts! I actually hear random facts 24/7! Emerald complained.

"A hotel," she informed him. "The Chateau Frontenac Hotel, to be specific." 

"No way," Leo said, laughing. But when they got closer, Amber could tell he started to believe her.

"The North Wind is staying in a hotel?" Leo asked. "That can't be right."

"I met Ares in a diner once. Charon, the person who takes people to the--" Amber paused for a moment, trying not to wince, "to the Underworld, lives in a recording studio. Olympus is at the Empire State building. Immortal beings are weird."

"Heads up, guys," Jason said. "We got company." 

Amber looked below and saw what Jason meant. Rising from the top of the tower were two winged figures--Boreads, according to what Amber's glasses told her. Zethes and Calais. Children of Boreas. They were holding nasty-looking swords.

Festus didn't like the angel guys. He swooped to a halt in midair, wings beating and teeth bared, and made a rumbling sound in his throat. Leo muttered something.

"I don't like this," Jason said. "They look like storm spirits."

"They're Boreads," Amber informed him.

"Children of Boreas?" he guessed.

"Correct." Amber nodded.

The Boreads looked like regular teenagers except for their icy white hair and feathery purple wings. Their bronze swords were jagged, like icicles. Their faces looked similar enough, which made sense, since they were brothers and all. They definitely weren't identical twins, though.

One–Calais–was the size of an ox, with a bright red Canadians hockey jersey, baggy sweatpants, and black leather cleats. The guy had clearly been in too many fights, because both his eyes were black, and when he bared his teeth, several were missing.

The other Boread–Zethes–looked like he'd just stepped off of a 1980s rock album cover. His ice-white hair was long and feathered into a mullet. He wore pointy-toed leather shoes, designer pants that were way too tight, and a gods-awful shirt with the top three buttons open. Maybe he thought he looked like a groovy love god–or like Darren, a boy Amber met in the Lotus Casino who came from the 1960s, and his fashion sense had not changed over the past 40 years–but the guy weighed 87.8 pounds, not including his wings, and he had a bad case of acne.

The brothers pulled up in front of the dragon and hovered there, swords at the ready.

Calais grunted. "No clearance."

Of course, Emerald hissed, annoyed.

"'Scuse me?" Leo said.

"You have no flight plan on file," explained Zethes. On top of his other problems, he had a fake French accent–Amber would know, her dad was the god of languages. "This is restricted airspace."

"Destroy them?" The ox showed off his gap-toothed grin.

Amber needed a plan, and quick.

"We don't have a flight plan?" She frowned. "I'm sure we called in. Maybe it was a fake number? Does your receptionist's number happen to be 305-555-9208?"

"No," Zethes told her. "We don't have a receptionist."

"Oh. We were misinformed, then. My apologies. Also, if you want a receptionist, I know a few cloud nymphs who would love to become one."

Zethes titled his head, thinking. He opened his mouth to say something, but Calais interrupted.

"Destroy them!" he repeated.

Amber frowned and discreetly drew a few throwing knives and inches her hand toward the sheath where Choisant and Verja were. She felt Jason move, undoubtedly to grab his coin. Emerald slithered out of Amber's bag, teeth bared. Festus began to hiss steam, but Leo cried, "Hold on!

Let's have some manners here, boys."

Huh. I didn't think he knew what manners are.

You're one to talk, Emerald. Also, you won't be able to reach them if they attack. They'll know how to stay away from your teeth. Get back in the bag.

Emerald obeyed, grumbling.

"--Cal!" Calais–Cal? Was saying when Amber started paying attention again. He looked proud, like he'd taken a long time to memorize that.

"That's short for Calais," Zethes said. "Sadly, my brother cannot say words with more than two syllables–"

"Pizza! Hockey! Muffins! Destroy! Murder!" Cal offered.

"--which includes his own name," Zethes finished.

"Here, Cal, try saying the word 'pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis' or 'antidisestablishmentarianism' while playing hockey. Everyone will be so impressed, they'll forget about everything else, and you'd be able to get a clear shot," Amber offered.

Her friends gave her strange looks.

Nerd.

Oh, shut up.

"New– too hard. But I am Cal," Cal repeated. "And this is Zethes, my brother!"

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

Cal grunted, obviously pleased with himself.

"Stupid buffoon," Zethes grumbled. "They're making fun of you. But whatever. I am Zethes, which is short for Zethes. And the lady there–" He winked at Piper, but it looked more like he had gunk in his eye he was trying to get out."She may call me anything she likes. Preferably smoking hot."

Amber frowned. For one: she used to have a crush on Piper, and she wasn't 100% sure she was over it. For two: she knew she wasn't even remotely pretty, but he could've at least tried to soften the blow! Not that she cared, since she'd rather not have a tiny used-to-be demigod with ego problems hitting on her, but still!

"Perhaps she would like to have dinner with a famous demigod before we must destroy you?" Piper made a disgusted sound. "Yeah, no. That's a horrifying offer."

"It is no problem." Zethes wiggled his eyebrows. "We are a very romantic people, we Boreads."

"Y'know, males like you are why I sometimes feel like I'm lesbian," Amber commented, annoyed and sightly creeped out with the millenia-or-so-year-old's shameless hitting on her friend. "Now, can you just do your job of gatekeeping or whatever?"

"Right," Zethes said, frowning. "We are our father's gatekeepers. So you understand, we cannot have unauthorized people flying in his airspace on creaky dragons, scaring the silly mortal people."

"We were told we were authorized, though," Amber pointed out, glad she wasn't a terrible liar.

"But that is not our fault. Which is sadly why, unless this is an emergency landing," Zethes said, brushing his hair out of his acne-covered face, "we will have to destroy you painfully."

Dang, painfully? Can't you just destroy us normally?

Not helping, Emerald.

When am I ever helping?

"Destroy!" Cal agreed, with way too much enthusiasm.

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

Zethes studied Piper, which of course he'd already been doing. Amber resisted the urge to hurl a few throwing knives at him. "How does the pretty girl decide this is an emergency, then?"

Self-control. I can't just attack him and jeopardize the mission, right?

I mean, you could, Emerald pointed out.

But I won't.

"We have to see Boreas. It's totally urgent! Please?" She forced a smile, which was definitely killing her, but Amber could barely tell. She looked so dazzling. She opened her mouth to agree with her, but found she couldn't talk. Zethes and Piper started talking again, but Amber couldn't do anything but stare.

Hello. Hello? Earth to Amber? Earth to Miss Castellan? Anyone home?

I–she's beautiful. And awesome.

Yeah, she is. But we have other problems to focus on, such as not being destroyed.

Right.

Amber forced herself to look away from Piper and at Cal and Zethes, who were holding orange traffic cones. They turned and swooped toward the hotel's tower.

Leo turned to his friends. "I love these guys. Follow them?"

Amber wasn't feeling very eager to do that. What she was feeling eager to do, though, was impale Zethes, which she wouldn't be able to do if they just flew away. So she nodded.

"Sure," she said.

"I wonder why Boreas hasn't been kind to visitors," Jason murmured.

"He's immortal. They're almost all the same, hating demigods for various reasons," Amber informed him.

"Pfft. He'll love us," Leo whistled. "Festus, after those not-angels!"

As they got closer, Amber wondered if this was all just a terribly-made yet effective plan to have them crushed against a tower. The Boreads made right for the green gabled peak and didn't slow down. Then a section of the slanted roof slid open, revealing an entrance easily wide enough for Festus. The top and bottom were lined with icicles like jagged teeth.

"This cannot be good," Jason muttered, and Amber couldn't help but agree, but Leo spurred the dragon downward, and they swooped in after the Boreads.