Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Annabeth burst into the cave without a second thought. The air was thick with lavender, lighting low from torches lit with Greek fire along the walls. Paying little mind to the dizzying paintings on the walls, Annabeth strode over to where the redheaded girl had been sitting on her stool staring at an easel.

“Rachel,” Annabeth said.

The girl didn’t hear her. Annabeth swallowed back her tension and took a deep breath. She tapped Rachel’s shoulder this time, and the Oracle jumped.

“Oh!” Rachel Elizabeth Dare was usually covered in paint, but this time, her face had been smudged with black fingerprints over her freckled cheeks. Under her eyes were even darker circles. She pulled off a pair of headphones, wrapping the cord around a boxy silver Walkman. “You’re back.”

“Yes,” Annabeth said. She pulled on the straps of her backpack, staring down at the girl. “But where was—”

“Percy’s gone,” Rachel finished. She rubbed her forehead, streaking another black line across her pale skin. Standing up from her stool, Rachel moved toward the couches with a frown. Annabeth followed silently, unsure if she wanted to sit with her. Hell, Annabeth wanted to scream with frustration, but she couldn’t do that either. After all that time searching, she thought this would be it. She was so sure.

“He wasn’t ever there,” Annabeth told Rachel. “There was some science class, but no one who was supposed to be there was there. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel fell back into her plush cushions. Then, rubbing the palms of her hands against her eyes, she sighed out into the cabin. “Even Gleeson Hedge was missing?”

“Apparently. The Mist was already working on them when we asked, but a few of the kids mentioned a coach.” Annabeth’s head turned to the wall. Across from the couch Rachel was on, there used to be a painting of Percy holding onto Riptide and something random in his hand. Annabeth rarely came to the Cave of the Oracle (she never had any reason to before now), but the second object had been changing over the past few months. At first, it was a coin, a hoodie, a Target bag, and even a blue stuffed Pillowpet. Percy had thought it was funny at first, and he and Rachel would go back and forth to decipher the prophecy of the Pillowpet. Annabeth had never really paid attention. But then Percy disappeared.

Whatever was last in Percy’s hands didn’t matter. Rachel had scratched out his figure with angry black streaks of paint. Annabeth’s worry began pressing against her chest. You don’t need to be a daughter of Athena to know how to interpret something like that.

There was a lot of black in Rachel’s cave the more she looked. Rachel’s hands were blackened up to her elbows from paint, her sweaty hair streaked and tied up. Most walls were still covered in their various graffiti jobs, ranging from mellow song lyrics to familiar campers to nonsensical abstract art, but the blacked-out Percy seemed to darken the space. Even Rachel’s normally colorful spare clothes lying around seemed to act as if the Oracle was in mourning.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare didn’t look too good herself. The girl leaned over to the coffee table where a giant map of North America laid. All over the map were colorful pins haphazardly sticking up, tiny notes scribbled on post-its, and giant blotted question marks. Rachel was staring at Arizona, where an innocent white pushpin carved into the Grand Canyon.

“It wasn’t just Percy, though,” Rachel murmured. Her head lifted up to Annabeth, eyebrows knitted together. “There weren’t any other demigods? There was supposed to be—”

“Two, I know.” Annabeth plucked the pushpin out. She stabbed a red pin in its place. “Nothing. There was a shoe— but no owner.”

Annabeth began pacing back and forth. It was helping her think, but her mind was still clouded with thoughts of Percy. She had a vision just like Rachel, but Percy was missing from it. There was supposed to be some one-shoed boy to help her figure everything out, but instead, she got a bunch of scared high schoolers. Butch said the Mist was erasing whatever happened fast, so there weren’t enough answers to her overwhelming number of questions.

At least Rachel was helping her. No one batted an eye when Percy went missing a few days ago. Her siblings kept telling her that Percy must’ve returned to his mom for the rest of his winter break. You know how much he loves his mom, they said. But Annabeth knew Percy. He wouldn’t have left without telling her. He wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.

Things grew worse when she couldn’t get a hold of Grover. He was busy with his duties telling the satyrs about what happened with Pan. Surely, if something was seriously wrong, he would’ve felt it and rushed straight to Annabeth. The silence should’ve been comforting, but to Annabeth, it was choking.

When she went to Chiron, the man had done something he had never done before. He brushed her aside and told her to stop thinking about it. It would be fine. Annabeth immediately knew something was wrong then. But if Grover was inaccessible, and Chiron was blocklisting her, then who else could she go to? She didn’t want to give Sally Jackson a heart attack.

Annabeth was grateful for Rachel, at least. The girl was quick and knew what Annabeth would say the first time the daughter of Athena demanded help. While Annabeth didn’t love the thought of Rachel Elizabeth Dare knowing something she didn’t, she was quickly affirmed that Rachel knew little to nothing.

Annabeth rubbed at a growing tension headache. Whatever she had previously felt about Rachel Elizabeth Dare had been wiped away, replaced with an anxious hunger for an answer. It was like the two girls were assembling a puzzle, but the picture on the box the girls had been given was completely different from what was in front of her. All she needed was some momentum to get started— a corner piece to build her sides.

“I just don’t get it,” Annabeth muttered.

Rachel pulled up her legs onto the cushions. “Me neither.”

“I mean, you had that vision. I had that dream.” Annabeth’s headache was beginning to throb. “He was supposed to be there at the Grand Canyon!”

Annabeth stopped pacing, staring at the blacked-out Percy painting. “But there was nothing.” The lavender in the cave was supposed to be soothing, but it was starting to feel suffocating. Annabeth’s eyes flickered to Percy’s face, where flecks of green glared back at her. “No Percy, no demigods at all. Even Gleeson Hedge was missing.”

She reached up to her necklace, rubbing the red coral on the strand. Something was moving, but she couldn’t figure it out yet. Kronos was gone. Olympus was closed. Percy was missing. Whatever lightbulbs were supposed to be lit in Annabeth’s head were frustratingly dim.

“I can’t help but think….” Rachel trailed off, and Annabeth whirled around.

“What?” If Rachel had gotten another vision when Annabeth was out, she needed to know.

“I just—” Rachel hesitated. Her usually loud and unabashed voice was barely a whisper. Annabeth pressed away any jealousy left of Rachel and Percy’s relationship. The girl always knew Percy in a way Annabeth couldn’t. Not that it mattered now.

“I feel like something has gone really, really wrong.” Rachel’s legs dropped down to the floor, and her back straightened. Rachel’s eyes looked frighteningly green, but the telltale Mist of the Oracle spirit was nowhere to be seen. Still, a shiver crawled up Annabeth’s spine. This wasn’t the Oracle of Delphi talking— this was Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Percy’s friend speaking. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Annabeth’s anger slipped out of her, only to be caught and tangled up by fear.

“What… what do you mean?” She cursed her voice for sounding so tiny.

Rachel nodded to the Percy painting. “I got frustrated. Anytime I tried to picture him or anything related to him, everything was just… black. I… I don’t know what it means. Something isn’t right.”

“But I listened to you,” Annabeth cried. “We both saw a vision. It had to be Percy.”

“I don’t know about that.” Rachel stood. She crossed the cave heading back to her easel. Next to it sat a caddy, where she picked up a paintbrush from a cup and dipped it into a puddle of white paint on wax paper. “We saw a boy with a missing shoe, didn’t you?” Rachel gave Annabeth a pained look. “And that happened. Now I keep getting this, and then it goes black.”

Annabeth moved behind the girl to look at the painting. At first, it was indistinguishable, just a bunch of black silhouettes on an angry dark background. But then the shapes took form as Annabeth focused on it. Rachel slid her paintbrush from the top of the page, moving down in a wide, jagged zig-zag. She traced along thinner lines around the page stemming from the extended one.

“What is that?” Annabeth leaned over her shoulder. “Lightning?”

Rachel rolled her paintbrush between her hands. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“But that would be—” Annabeth’s thoughts were flying so fast that she couldn’t seize a single one to bring to coherent speech. “Thalia’s with the Hunters. Unless Zeus took Percy—”

“I don’t know.” Rachel’s paintbrush dropped into a cup of murky water. “Everything keeps coming blank when I think about the Grand Canyon.”

Annabeth’s heart pounded so harshly that she would’ve believed that Rachel could hear it. “What if you’re being tricked?” she hissed. “You could be having false prophecies?”

Rachel winced but shook her head, strands of ginger hair shaking falling around her face. “Maybe if something was wrong with Apollo, but everything else looks good. All the other things I’ve seen are coming true.”

“But this isn’t,” Annabeth said. “Otherwise, Percy would be here.”

“Maybe,” Rachel sighed. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, staring at her lightning picture intently. “I miss him too, you know.”

Of course, Annabeth knew that. She felt silly for getting frustrated at the girl when she was only helping, but Annabeth was frustrated. It was as if her options were spiraling away before she knew something was an option.

“Can you talk to Apollo?” Annabeth suggested. “This might be bigger than you. Especially with the gods going silent. No gods and a son of the Big Three going missing can’t be a coincidence.”

“I’ll try. But the gods have been silent, and even Apollo—”

“Just—” Annabeth exhaled. “Try it. Please. I want to try everything. Just in case.”

Rachel nodded. She reached out and squeezed Annabeth’s arm. “I will.”

Annabeth didn’t doubt it. After a moment, Rachel smiled at her. “We’ll figure it out, Annabeth. Percy would believe that if anyone can figure something out, it’s you.”

Worry was freezing her up, but Annabeth slowly nodded. A few months ago, she would’ve been sure she could do this. But now, everything was growing hopeless. Still, Annabeth was not a quitter. She would do anything she could.

Pulling away from Rachel, Annabeth wandered back to the coffee table. She scanned the map and its colorful tacks, recalling all the failures, but eyeing the new pins. Somewhere behind the couches was an even bigger map of the world’s countries with even fewer pins.

“Is there anywhere else I can go?” She checked the map. Multiple took up New York. Las Vegas. DC. And now a scarlet pin at Arizona. All dead ends. A son of Poseidon couldn’t drop off the face of the Earth, could he?

Rachel called out from her stool. “Unsure. Check the yellow pins. I keep getting images, but they’re all being cut out like static and then the black again. It’s weird.”

“Has that ever happened before?”

“No,” Rachel admitted. “Even if you hadn’t asked, I was planning on talking to Apollo about it.”

“Okay,” Annabeth ripped off one of the extra sticky notes and started jotting things down. Detroit. Quebec. Chicago. San Francisco. The Rockies. Annabeth couldn’t understand the relevance of these places. Nor could she picture Percy taking a vacation there either. She stuffed the paper into her jacket pocket.

Rachel had taken her paintbrush up again, adding details to her dark image. She kept hovering over a bright blue paint, mumbling to herself.

“Rachel,” Annabeth declared. The Oracle didn’t face her, only tilting her head to say she heard. “I’m going to head out tomorrow with Butch to check out some of these places. Let me know first if anything important comes up.”

“What are you going to tell Chiron?”

Annabeth considered the question. Normally, she would’ve rushed off to tell Chiron and demand to know what was happening, but coming back this time, she hesitated. Instead, she told Butch to wait outside the cave as she spoke to Rachel first. Annabeth didn’t even understand it— but it felt right. If Chiron was going to keep secrets, Annabeth could too.

She tightened her hold on her bag straps. “I don’t know yet. I’ll think of something.”

Rachel paused. “Okay… keep safe, Annabeth.”

It wasn’t much, but it warmed Annabeth a little. “Thanks.” She gave another look at the map and headed out. But before she could leave the cave, Annabeth hesitated.

“Do you think—” Annabeth didn’t even want to see Rachel’s face as she asked. She knew her own face was contorted with anxiety. “Do you think Percy’s okay?”

At first, she didn’t think Rachel heard her. Then there was a soft hum.

“I… I don’t know.” Rachel murmured.

Annabeth nodded, wiping her face with her sleeve. “Right.”

“But it’s Percy fucking Jackson.” Rachel’s voice could only be described as pitiful. “How much trouble could he be in?”

Annabeth almost laughed. She muttered a small prayer to her mother, clutching the purple velvet curtains tightly as she stepped into the night. Butch was talking lowly to the pegasi, but they bristled when Annabeth came out, catching his attention.

“Now what?” Butch asked. “Are we going to Chiron?”

“No,” Annabeth bit back her annoyance. “I’m going to figure this out without his help.”

Butch looked like he wanted to implore more, but something in her face made him hold his tongue. He nodded and followed her as the two piled onto the chariot to head back to camp. Annabeth bit at her thumbnail, piecing together what she’s collected from Rachel. It was hopeless as all demigod things were.

She immediately chided herself for thinking that way. Annabeth Chase was not a quitter. She prayed to her mother once more, asking for help. Just in case, she sent a prayer to Poseidon as well. She’d take anything to help her with this. Annabeth would do anything to bring Percy back home. But something in the back of her mind was telling her it would be harder than she thought.

Chapter Text

“Demigods?” Piper repeated, baffled. “Children of Greek gods. You can’t be serious.”

“Yes,” Medea smiled behind her hand. “It sure is a shock, isn’t it?”

“No kidding, lady,” Leo folded his arms. “If it wasn’t for that freaky hammer thing, I would’ve told you to lay off the acid.”

“We are underground,” Jason reminded them, and Medea’s smile grew wider. Out of the Wilderness kids, he seemed to warm up to the idea faster, but his skepticism was still evident on his easy-to-read face.

But his point made it all too convincing. After being attacked by… what had Jason called Dylan? Frappes? Vespas? Whatever Dylan was, it was clearly not of the real world. Followed by Jason’s sudden abilities to fly, Coach Hedge’s horns, and the Grand Canyon bottom turning into sand soup, Piper couldn’t say that being the child of a Greek god was the most out-of-this-world thing to occur today.

Tristan McLean might’ve played one once onstage, but he certainly wasn’t a god. He could barely remember to take the wet clothes out of the washing machine at the right time. Which left Piper’s missing mother, who, for most of her life, Piper believed the woman bailed on them. If this strange lady told the truth, did that really change things? Her mom was still gone.

“That ‘freaky hammer thing,’” Medea explained, “was you being claimed. It’s a demigod ritual for you to be acknowledged by your godly parent.”

“Vulcan,” Jason added.

Leo glanced at Jason, incredulous. “Maybe you do have amnesia. We swore to never mention Star Trek again.”

“What?” Jason frowned. “What is-”

“Not important, guys,” Piper then looked to Medea with suspicion. “How does Jason know that? Who is Vulcan?”

Medea shrugged, but Piper had a feeling she knew. The woman- princess as she introduced herself- was wearing the type of elegant chic fashion as the mothers of the rich kids Piper went to private school with. They had always seemed to look down on Piper during parent-hosted events at schools- at least until they found out who her father was.

Medea looked like she had come off a fashion shoot, and she wasn’t underground holding a torch with green fire, with three bruised kids who fell out of the ceiling.

Even now, when Piper and Medea’s eyes met, Piper felt like the woman could sense her dislike. Yet, she made little acknowledgment of it, which only further pissed Piper off.

The ceiling began to crumble, threatening to collapse and crush them all. Medea stepped back, dusting off her shoulders. She spun on her heel, heading back toward the odd opening she came from. “Come now, children. This tunnel can only hold on for so long.”

Jason and Leo stepped forward, but Piper yelped, “Wait!”

The two boys looked back at her quizzically, while the princess only turned her head.

“How do we know we can trust you?” Piper asked. “This is too weird.”

“Piper-” Jason said, but Leo elbowed him quiet. They looked toward the older woman for answers.

Medea tilted her head as if thinking and a fly piece of hair spilled from her bun. Then, the ground began to shake again.

“Hmm,” Medea shrugged again, tapping her chin with a French manicured finger. “I suppose you can’t. But have fun if you want to be buried alive, demigod. I do not control you.”

The earth trembled again, collapsing a part of the cavern wall a few feet from where Piper stood. Her nerves buzzed from the near miss. The tunnel threatened to hit again, but Piper didn’t want to take her chances this time.

Biting her lip, she moved by her friends, and they followed the strange woman deeper into the tunnel. A few moments later, the dirt crumbled behind her, crashing down angrily. No way of turning back even if she wanted to.

None of them knew where they were going, and Medea didn’t seem keen on answering. The rocky terrain grew harsher as they traveled, the space even narrower, until they were forced into a single line, with Medea taking charge, followed by Leo, Piper, and Jason tailing behind. Every so often, Leo would brush his hand along the dirt walls, and Piper tried not to gasp at how horrifying his hand looked silhouetted by the green fire Medea carried.

Medea explained what demigods were. It wasn’t the most descriptive tale Piper had heard, but it did its purpose. She was brief but to the point, answering questions with as much mystery in her clipped sentences as possible. No, she wasn’t a demigod. She laughed when Jason asked if she was a goddess. Yes, she was a myth too. Other deities exist too, but she didn’t say which ones.

“So, I’m like, the kid of this ugly god who lives alone in a volcano and no one likes,” Leo said bitterly. “Sounds fun.”

Medea tsked. “He has many gifts. I’m sure you’re aware of some already.”

Whatever Leo muttered under his breath, Piper didn’t catch. She was too busy trying to figure out her own godly parent. She went through the mental list of the ones she knew, but none of them felt right. She wished she didn’t care as much as she did.

“Do you know who mine is?” Jason spoke aloud her thoughts. “Mine and Piper’s parents, I mean.”

There was a pause, and the group stopped, Piper, slamming into Leo and Jason bumping into her.

“Ah,” Medea examined him over Leo’s head. “So that was taken from you too, Jason?”

Jason was the only one she consistently referred to by name.

“Taken?” Piper said. “What do you mean?”

“His memories, of course,” Medea said as if she were talking about the weather. Piper tensed, feeling Jason stiffen behind her. None of them had mentioned his memory loss.

“It’s a shame, really,” Medea continued. “A claiming like Jason’s only comes once in a lifetime. Of course, I would’ve loved to see it, but Jason had been claimed much earlier than most.”

“My memories… did you say they were taken?” Jason choked out.

“By a goddess, even,” Medea almost sounded delighted at the conversation. Piper looked back at Jason, but it was too dark to tell what he was feeling. She couldn’t imagine it was good. She reached out to grab his hand, but he shook her away. Ouch.

“Wait- wait- hold up,” Leo called out. “Somethings fishy here. Didn’t you say the gods were our parents? Aren’t they the good guys? And why Jason’s memories? The dude thinks hot Cheetos are breakfast food. He can’t be that special.”

“Leo!” Jason snapped.

“I’m just saying,” Leo snorted. “It’s not like you even know what I’m talking about.”

While they bickered, Medea’s smile slipped. Piper resisted a shiver at the sight, but she doubted her two friends even noticed. Piper didn’t like their nonchalance, like everything was normal. The boys were too trusting, too compliant. Medea’s voice was so soothing and honeyed that Piper felt like a fly narrowly missing a trap.

Piper frowned. “You never answered the question. I’m more inclined to trust the gods than you.”

“She saved us from Dylan, though,” Jason murmured. “Anyone willing to save people is good in my book.”

“And she’s pretty,” Leo said. “Pretty people don’t lie.”

Ignoring that, Piper said, “No, you saved us, Jason. You were the one with the sword and the flying powers. She’s just the one in the tunnel.”

“Yeah, man,” Leo agreed. “When the heck were you going to tell us about being Superman?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Jason bemoaned, and Leo spun around.

“Man, do I got stuff to teach you!”

“Guys!” Piper pleaded. “There’s more important things to know than superheroes. Like, Jason’s memories, why we were attacked, and what the hell is happening!”

With Leo at least, Piper can see a hint of confusion flit across his face. Then, with them quieted, Piper turned to Medea. “Why would the gods take Jason’s memories? And why do you know that?”

The princess’s face was neutral. Then, her cherry red lips drew into a deep scowl, and her face shined with so much anger that Piper almost flinched. But this was good, something was telling Piper. This felt honest. No more games.

“I never said the gods were good,” Medea snarled. “They’ve ruined so many lives.”

“No offense,” Piper said. “But you don’t look like you care about others.”

Leo elbowed her as Jason took in a sharp breath.

Medea sighed and placed her unoccupied hand over her chest. “I love helping others. I am telling you the truth when I say this, child.”

“But-”

“Answer me this-” something sweet slipped into her voice, something that made Piper’s skin crawl, but a part of her desperately wanted to know the question. She felt gross. Cotton crammed into her brain. Medea didn’t even notice. “Has any of your godly parents helped you? Have any of you heard of them until me?”

“No.” All three of their voices echoed.

The princess smiled sadly. “I used to have children too if you must know. I would never hurt them like that for no reason.”

Piper frowned. Something about Medea was becoming increasingly familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She pictured sitting next to her dad, poring through Greek myth after Greek myth, but they all blurred together. There was too much tragedy, too much pain.

“What happened to your kids?” Leo blurted out.

Medea turned around. “Another time. We must hurry before the tunnels close.”

They didn’t talk much after that. Piper wondered if the princess knew who her mother was. What kind of goddess was she? How many kids did she have? And most importantly: why did she leave Piper and her dad?

There were too many questions and not enough answers. Medea’s words sunk heavily into Piper with every step. She tried to piece together the myths in her head, but it was as if there was a fog flooding her mind. Anytime she tried to think too hard on Medea’s story, she felt woozy like she was taking a nap on a warm summer afternoon. As comforting as it was, it terrified Piper even more.

Eventually, the tunnel grew golden handrails on both sides until Piper realized they were heading up. The rocks slowly morphed into smooth stone stairs. Medea halted once more, but this time, she was in front of a wide wooden door with stained glass glittering in the green light. A snowflake.

“We’re here,” Medea murmured. She recanted something in an ancient tongue, voice gravely and deep, and then pushed at the golden doorknob. It opened easily.

The group stepped out into a janitor’s closet. Leo walked into a mop, bonking himself in the head, while Piper kicked over Clorox bottles and a toilet paper roll. Medea dropped her torch into a bucket with a plop! and pushed open the janitor’s door. When Piper glanced back, the snowflake door they originally came from had been replaced with lockers.

They spilled out into a grand hotel lobby with a dazzling crystalline chandelier hanging over a gorgeous marble fountain. Everything was lined with gold or marble, Medea’s heels clicking against the floor pleasantly.

In the sudden light, Piper could finally look at herself in the passing mirrored walls and recoil. Her face and clothes were smudged with so much dirt that she looked like she had just returned from playing in the mud. Leo and Jason didn’t look any better: Leo made faces in the mirror while Jason was examining his face like it was the first time he had ever seen it.

Medea moved to the concierge talking in a low voice. She looked like a fashion model mother taking in three punks who had never seen a shower. The sparse sprinkling of people in the lobby didn’t bat an eye at them; the employee at the front desk even waved at Piper when they locked eyes.

Piper wandered over to the large glass doors. It was snowing outside, displaying the busy nightlife in the city. But that couldn’t have been- they’d been walking for an hour at most, and there was nothing like this near the Grand Canyon. She felt uneasy and considered running out to the street screaming about kidnapping, but she couldn’t imagine just running like that. She had a feeling that if she bolted now, her situation would grow a lot direr.

She walked back to Jason and Leo, who were eyeing the statue in the middle of the fountain with their fingers to their chins like snobby art inspectors. Piper sat on the rim, staring at her reflection in the crystalline water.

“It’s certainly a Van Gogh,” Leo said in a French accent.

“It’s not,” Jason said in the same accent, though he was much worse.

“Well, maybe it’s a Da Vinci. I’d say worth 3 million pounds,” Leo turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

Jason was silent for a moment, then cocked his head. “It’s clearly worth more. It’s too lifelike.”

Piper glanced up. It was. The statue was frosted like an ice sculpture of some kid with a sword raised, his mouth open in an eternal scream. What a horrible image for such a fancy hotel, Piper thought with a shudder. The employee at the desk waved at her again.

“Children!” Medea called. “I got our rooms in order.” She wiggled a shiny white keycard and headed to the elevator. “Come now.”

It wasn’t an invitation- it was a demand. Piper’s feet moved independently, and the group piled into a gorgeous elevator decorated with Renaissance murals and shiny lights. Medea pressed the 32nd-floor button- straight to the top.

“You’ll be pleased to know I have a friend who owns this place. So I’m cashing in a favor to get a good room. I’ve even ordered room service to be sent along in a few minutes,” Medea said as she fixed her hair in the reflection of the golden elevator doors. When no one responded, she turned to glimpse at them. They must’ve been one funky-looking bunch.

“You shouldn’t frown so much, Piper,” Medea focused her gaze on her. Her dark eyes felt like they were scanning through Piper’s brain, but at Piper’s discomfort, she smiled. “Frown lines is all, dear.”

When the elevator opened, they marched down to the end of the hall. It was a short hall, with only two rooms. Medea handed them each a keycard labeled 32A in gold lettering, but she grabbed the handle to the door of 32B.

“I want to give you privacy,” she explained. The princess patted Jason and Leo’s cheek, but at Piper, she smoothed out her jacket’s shoulders. It was frustratingly motherly. “I feel some of you still don’t trust me.” But, of course, it was no secret who some of you were referring to. But Medea didn’t seem hurt by it and instead waved them goodnight.

“Relax and sweet dreams, children. I will see you in the morning, and then we can begin.”

At her words, Piper felt boneless as all her stress melted away. She yawned, and Leo opened the door to their room and whistled.

It was pretty big, which was expected considering it took up half the floor. Piper, who was used to big hotel rooms, was surprised by the large windows showcasing a snow-covered skyline and the mesmerizing mirrors and frosted glass tables. The gold and white accents from the lobby continued throughout the room, dancing across slick electrical appliances and modern-looking light fixtures. Leo zipped through the various doors while Jason awkwardly stared at one of the paintings on the wall.

Piper stood next to him, recognizing it.

“It’s Jason and his wife,” she told him. “The Greek one from the myths. Our art teacher showed it in a slideshow, remember?”

“Oh,” was all Jason said.

There were three bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. On the beds were silky navy blue pajamas and cozy-looking white fuzzy slippers. Naturally, they were in all their sizes, making Piper shift uncomfortably. The hotel room was nearly perfect except for one thing: it was freezing. They couldn’t find a heater either, settling to zipping up their coats and rubbing their arms together.

Agreeing to shower in turn- something still felt off with the space- Jason and Leo let Piper shower first. She didn’t want to argue.

Piper felt oddly comfortable with herself in the mirror, which had lights built in, which further brightened every flaw in her face. Being covered in dirt and grime like this felt awful, but it felt like Piper. She felt human. The thought that she was anything more than that was fun as a kid, but now? Piper just wanted to be falling asleep in her dorm room, asking her roommate to turn off the lights.

She peeled off her clothes, wincing as a giant bruise was uncovered on her hip under her jeans. She bit her lip, wondering how she didn’t notice it earlier. Getting cold quickly, she turned on the hot water and nearly moaned at how heavenly her shower was.

By the time she was done, Jason and Leo were sitting on the floor, surrounded by food. Medea wasn’t lying about the room service. Piper found all of her favorite foods plus dozens more options mixed in. The surprising amount of vegetarian food made her think Medea knew too much about them. But her stomach growled at the sight, so she sat with them and grabbed a plate.

“We’re in freaking Canada,” Leo explained, dipping shrimp into cocktail sauce. “We got bored and started looking around to find something. Turns out we’re in Québec. Not the craziest thing going on right now, but still pretty crazy.”

Jason had gotten up a few minutes earlier to take a shower. Piper sipped from her water bottle, trying not to let her thoughts overwhelm her. So they walked from Arizona to Québec? She glanced at a clock on the wall, but it was only 11 at night.

“Magic’s real,” Piper said. “And we’re demigods.”

“Crazy, I know.” Leo snorted. “Jason, sure, if anyone’s wacky enough to be a demigod, it’ll definitely be that guy. But us? Medea’s got us confused.”

Piper had to agree. “I’ve always known there was something out there. But not like this.”

“This isn’t the worst thing.”

“It’s not.”

“But it’s not the best,” Leo said. He munched in thought, reaching over for the sushi sitting at his right. “Do you think she’s telling the truth? It was hard to tell. Kinda felt like I had to believe her.”

“Maybe,” Piper admitted. “Can’t be too sure.”

“Even-” Leo’s voice dropped to a whisper, but Piper didn’t know why. “Even about our parents?”

That was tricky. Piper had waited so many years for her mother to come back to her so she could give the woman a piece of her mind. She’d practiced a lot what she would say. But when the truth about her mom being a god struck, Piper couldn’t help but feel even more lost than before.

“Yeah,” Piper said. “That part felt the most true.”

“God,” Leo wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Holy shit. Do you think your dad knew?”

Piper shook her head. “Your dad is the godly one... do you think your mom knew?”

Leo’s eyes darted to his cup. “... Maybe. Doesn’t matter now.”

She wanted to ask more about it, but Leo didn’t seem intent on sharing. Piper grabbed a spring roll and wondered what Medea was doing right now. Was she eating? Listening in? Or was she tucked away sleeping soundly for whatever tomorrow was going to bring? Piper hated that she wanted to know.

“Hey, Piper,” Leo spoke quietly. He was absent-mindedly playing with the zipper of his jacket, staring at the bathroom door. “Do you think Jason’s our Jason?”

She didn’t know the answer, and he continued.

“Like, the guy gets back his memories or something?” Leo said. “Would it be the stuff we know? Or is there an entirely different Jason?”

Piper bit her lip, thinking. What would the other Jason be like? The current Jason they faced was familiar, but it was leaning into an uncanny valley. His face was the same, but maybe how he said some words or how he looked at her was entirely different. Was there even a thing such as our Jason anymore?

She didn’t get a chance to answer because Jason, theirs or not, stepped out in silk pajamas with a pleased look on his face.

“The water pressure is really good,” he said happily. Piper couldn’t help but feel relieved because it was only her dorkish Jason who could get excited about water pressure.

Leo fled to shower, and left behind, Jason and Piper began putting away the large multitude of food they couldn’t have eaten. She took note of the things she knew she liked and what she knew Leo liked. But her thoughts grew murky when she tried to think about the foods that she remembered Jason liking. Again, there was that fog. Fine, Piper thought. Anything else she didn’t know to be her favorite food or Leo’s, she mentally assigned to Jason.

“Jason,” she started. “Do you like burgers or ribs?”

“Um,” Jason paused, washing dishes. “I don’t know.” His nose crinkled at her. “I should know that, right?”

“It’s okay,” Piper pushed away the final container of food. She wanted to scream, but she closed the fridge door and leaned against it, rubbing her chilled arms. “I’m sure you’ll remember at some point.”

“Thanks, Piper,” he nodded but didn’t look too convinced. Hell, he seemed more sure of himself when talking to Medea. Piper ruminated on the thought. Medea and Jason… there was something there.

It was a little awkward without Leo to fill the space with his chattering. Piper only remembered being this awkward when she’d first been introduced to Jason as Leo’s roommate. Every so often, she found herself taking peeks at Jason, but after a couple times, she realized Jason was doing the same to her, and they both averted their eyes and blushed.

Jason turned on the TV and began flicking through channels while Piper stared out the window at the softly falling snow.

Canada. For some reason, that was the most ridiculous part of it all. If it wasn’t such a weird circumstance, she would call wherever they were in Québec beautiful.

Piper rubbed her palms into her eyes. Leo returned from his shower and shuffled through a pack of cards he found. Jason watched with dull interest, and Piper wandered into one of the bedrooms.

There was a phone; it then dawned on her. Its sleek black handle was waiting for her under the bedside lamp. She listened for Jason and Leo’s low murmurs and pushed closed the door with her hip. Wrapping herself in the plush duvet with a shiver, Piper dialed a number.

It rang once, twice, three times. That was okay, Piper assured herself. No one picks up a strange call in the middle of the night. She sat on the bed and dialed again. No one picked up, so she dialed one more time.

This time, the call was picked up by a sharp, Hello?

“Jane,” Piper almost felt relieved by the sound of her dad’s assistant. “Where’s my dad? Can you give him the phone?”

“He’s out,” came Jane’s clipped reply.

Piper glanced at the bedside alarm. Her dad wasn’t usually out this late. Maybe he was at an event? “Can you tell him I called when he gets back? It’s an emergency?”

“He’s out,” Jane reminded him again. “Did you get expelled again? You know-”

“Can you just tell him? Okay?”

“... Fine. Anything else?”

Piper frowned. “How far away is Québec? Can you buy some plane tickets? I think I’m in trouble.”

“Piper,” Jane warned. “Quit messing around. You know your dad is busy. We’ll see you in Spring Break.”

“I’m not-” The phone cut out, and Piper growled, dropping the phone. She tried calling again, but Jane ignored her. “Ugh!” Piper fell back on the bed.

She rubbed her face, staring up at the ceiling. Jane had been infuriating as long as Piper knew her. She hoped at least that the assistant would pass along the message for Piper. It couldn’t be long until Wilderness called her dad anyway from going missing on a school trip with Jason, Leo and-

Hedge! Piper snapped up. She almost forgot about him. Coach Hedge had disappeared when Dylan turned into that crazy tornado thing. She felt bad for forgetting about her part-coach-part-substitute-teacher-part-goat who tried saving their lives. He had called them demigods too, hadn’t he? Piper’s head began to hurt, and her eyes burned with tears. Why was everything going so wrong? What was happening?

At some point, she got up and returned to the main room, where Jason and Leo were bundled in their blankets on the sectional and playing cards against the coffee table. Well, Leo was- Jason, on the other hand, was staring at the cards in his hand with frustration while Leo grinned at him.

When Piper entered, though, Jason stood up, knocking the cards to the ground. “Piper! Are you okay?”

Leo looked back at her with concern too. A part of her wanted to just break down and cry and tell them everything was wrong. She wanted Jason back, she hated Medea, she hated her goddess mother, she hated Wilderness, and most of all, she wanted to talk to her father about everything. She didn’t think they would look down at her for crying, but that was almost worse.

“I’m fine,” Piper stressed. She smiled, but her face didn’t seem too into it, so it faded fast. She sat down beside them and picked up a few cards. “Can I play?”

“Of course,” Jason said, and Leo huffed as he shuffled again. “Leo’s cheating.”

“I’m not cheating,” Leo rolled his eyes. “You just suck.”

“He’s definitely cheating,” Piper said.

She sunk into the chair, listening to the rhythmic thumps of the cards shuffling, and sighed. She was glad that she was with them at the very least. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if she were alone.

Chapter Text

They fell asleep in the same bed. She had the weirdest dream. At first, she had been watching a giant bird cage. It was clothed in shadows, but she knew something was there calling for her. But then, as Piper drew near, her dream cut out like static, and she was at the beach with her father. They didn’t say anything to each other, but Piper remembered the water being hot as she dived under the waves.

Piper woke up to the smell of fresh bread and Leo’s armpit in her face. He was achingly warm, however, so she moved her face away from his armpit and onto his chest. Then she darted up, wondering when the heck it began to smell like a bakery.

Her movement jostled Jason asleep, but he just blinked at her and went back to sleep. Piper contemplated hitting them with her pillow but instead slipped out of bed and into her fuzzy slippers. She immediately regretted it: it was like she’d stepped into a freezer. Wrestling a blanket away from them to wrap around herself, she tiptoed away into the other room, closing the door behind her.

Medea was standing at the Jason painting with an undecipherable expression on her face. So much for that sense of privacy if the princes could just waltz in any way. On top of the electric stove sat a large array of freshly baked pastries and fruit bowls. It didn’t make much sense- there wasn’t even an oven in the hotel room. But it smelled so good and buttery that Piper thought she was going to lift off her feet and waft over like a cartoon character.

“Piper,” Medea called without even looking at her. “Come here, dear.”

Piper’s body moved without thinking until they were both gazing at the painting. It was a lovely piece, though Piper didn’t know much about art in the first place. Still, she could at least admire the skillful strokes and painted greens. Jason was depicted lovingly endearing himself up to a woman while cupids aimed at him with a skillful bow and arrow.

“Jean-Francois de Troy,” Medea murmured. In the reflection of the frame’s glass, Medea’s face was covering the woman’s form. “Do you know who he is?”

“No.”

“A painter from France. A legacy of Aphrodite, even. Do you know why that’s ironic right now?”

“No.”

Medea’s reflection smiled. “Of course. It hardly matters now.” She reached up and brushed the painted lovers. “Do you at least know who these are? You’re a smart girl.”

Piper didn’t like being patronized, but Medea wasn’t saying it in that way. The princess sounded almost… sad? Piper focused on the painting. “The original Jason… and you.”

“Yes,” Medea’s fingernail curved along her painted smile. “I don’t look much like this, though.”

That was true. Medea’s complexion was a darker olive tone, and her hair was pitch black. Even Medea’s clothing was darker: the real-life woman wore a snug purple turtleneck and loose dark dress pants, deeply contrasting the whites that the painter had created. Medea was even wearing a glittering tiara of smooth swirls and tiny glittering diamonds to match her diamond earrings. Piper also couldn’t imagine such a sweet expression on this woman’s face. She wondered if Medea had ever felt that way or if myths were all different from their myths.

“My Jason had been more handsome,” Medea sighed. “He was born to be a leader. He never looked at me like that in public, though.”

“You were there,” Piper realized. The more Medea talked, the more Piper remembered the myth. “You were in love. But then you betrayed him.”

“That’s a strange story.”

“You’re a villain.” Horror seeped into Piper’s bones, but she felt rooted to the ground. Medea rubbed at her eyebrow and glanced at Piper.

“Well, that’s a horrible thing to say,” Medea said, miffed. “I’ve been called many things, but when has anyone listened to my story? Isn’t that villainous in itself?”

Piper’s skin began to crawl. “You killed your family,” she said slowly. “Your brother. Maybe even your own children.”

“That’s not what happened!” she snapped. Medea grabbed Piper’s shoulders, her eyes narrowed and glowing with anger. Piper didn’t want the fear to show, but the more she remembered about the story of Jason and Medea, the more horrified she felt. Medea’s expression then dropped, and she brushed Piper’s hair out of her face. “That is not… what happened.” She let go of Piper and walked over to the stove to grab a croissant. “Eat.”

Piper practically teleported to the food and began stuffing her face.

Medea took a shaky breath and waved Piper away from the food, directing her to the breakfast table.

“Piper,” Medea spun a ring around her finger. “You shouldn’t be so quick to judge people.”

“You killed your family,” Piper spoke around a blueberry muffin. Luckily the princess understood.

“Slow down,” she said, and Piper did. Medea dropped her chin in her hand. “The myths are all complicated. Some of them are true. Some of them are… less than true. It was my new husband who did that, though I admit I helped. But I did it for love? Surely you can trust me with that?”

Medea childishly pouted her lips, and Piper wondered if it was magic or her gut that made her believe Medea was telling the truth.

“Why are you telling me this?” Piper swallowed her final bit of muffin.

Medea’s fingers drummed across her cheek. “We should have trust in each other, shouldn’t we, Piper? My patron has entrusted you three with me. I was a mother once.”

Patron. That was a new word. If she remembered correctly, Dylan had said that when he attacked them. Could it be the same person? But that wouldn’t make sense- why would Dylan attack them only for Medea to rescue them if they were working together?

“Do you trust me, Piper?” Medea asked. “The boys do.”

Something forced the word out of her throat: “No.”

“Ah,” Medea beamed at her. “At least you’re being honest. There is some trust then.” She sat up and waved toward the sectional sofa behind Piper. “I went out and bought you all some new clothes. I even washed your beloved snowboarding jacket. Though I could just buy you a new one- but you wouldn’t take too kindly to that, I assume.”

“... Thanks.” Piper reluctantly spat out.

“Cheer up, dear,” Medea said. “We have a busy day ahead of us. I’ll go wake the boys.”

About an hour later, everyone was fed and warmed with cups of hot cocoa. Piper didn’t love how Medea knew Piper’s clothing sizes but cringed at the thought of getting back into her dirty clothes. Her white jacket was as good as new, the fur on the hood even refreshed and softer than ever. All their sneakers were cleaner than before, their jackets felt warmer, and their shirts nice and bright. Medea even gave Jason a winter hat.

Piper wondered how much her Jason looked like Medea’s Jason, but she felt embarrassed at the comparison. It didn’t really matter.

They were taken back into the elevator, but this time, Medea slid up a panel along the floor buttons, revealing another button, simply marked with a snowflake.

“We’re going to visit a friend, children,” She explained. “He is the one kind enough to lend us a warm bed to sleep in at his luxury hotels. Please remember your manners.”

The warm bed had to be a joke- their hotel room was cold enough that Piper felt like icicles would dangle from the ceiling soon. But just as she thought that the elevator began to ascend, and the temperature further plummeted.

“Who is it?” Jason asked. He was huddled next to Leo, who was rubbing his warm hands on Piper’s arms.

“King Boreas. You must refer to him as such,” Medea said. “Though I have been ignoring your lack of respect for me, this is a different matter. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill you all.”

“And you would?” Piper said.

Medea laughed. “It’s best not to think of such things.”

The elevator slid open, with a puff of cold air blasting them in their faces. Medea stepped out confidently in a fur jacket and high-heeled boots, but when Piper took a step, she nearly fell on her face if it wasn’t for Jason’s quick reflexes. The ground was covered in snow and ice.

They entered some sort of display room. Filled with ice sculptured of varying shapes and sizes, some nearly hundreds of feet high, in the impossibly big hotel penthouse, while others were small glass figurines on pedestals that Piper needed to bend over to distinguish. The walls sloped high, leading to another chandelier in the center, but this was made of only crystalline ice, bouncing rainbows of light across the ice-crusted walls.

They traveled through the room following Medea, who warned them about knocking over the sculptures before the group landed in a foyer at the base of a grand staircase. Sitting at the bottom of the steps were two teenagers. Or at least they looked like teenagers- sprouting out of their back flapped giant purple wings like bats. The skinnier one of them was playing on a pink DS Lite, while the other hung over his shoulder mumbling, “GO! GO! GO!”

“Zethes. Calais.” Medea slid her hands into her coat pockets. “You both look well.”

“Huh?” One of them said, but they both clambered off the stairs and fumbled in front of the princess. Their wings beat more cold air in Piper’s face, but she held her ground. One of the boys leered at her while the other dumbly clapped at their arrival.

“Guests!” He shouted gleefully. He was wearing a hockey jersey and sweatpants. “Dad will destroy!”

“I have a feeling he means us,” Leo said.

“You would be right,” Medea looked toward the other boy who was watching Piper. “Zethes, will you allow us to talk to your father today?”

Zethes stroked his chin like he was debating the answer to the meaning of life. “My father doesn’t like visitors, especially at the beginning of the season.” He had the most horrendous French accent Piper had ever heard, his dress shirt unbuttoned like he was supposed to be in some sensual cologne ad. Zethes zipped close to Medea’s face. “Shouldn’t you be dead? You are not immortal like awesome me. I heard you were banging Achilles. Is that true?”

With a strained smile, Medea leaned away. “Gossip is like wildfire.”

“Fire!” the other teen boy, Calais, Piper would assume, yelled. “Bad!”

“This is ridiculous,” Leo muttered.

“It’s something,” Jason agreed.

“You may not come in!” Zethes declared. He stood in a pose with his hands on his hips, then drew out a sword made of ice. “I am supposed to kill you all, in fact! Unless you are immortal,” he eyed Medea, who shrugged.

“Kill us?” Jason’s head whipped to the princess. “They can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” Zethes said, proud of himself. “Dead like you will be soon!”

“Wow,” Leo snickered behind his hand. “Wow.”

“They are,” Medea told them. “Well, I tried. Piper, it’s your turn.”

Piper’s head shot up. “My turn?” She cried. “To get killed?”

“To convince them,” Medea said simply, nodding toward the two winged guards. “I’m sure you have it in you. You can be persuasive, I’m sure you know. Go.”

Piper tripped over her feet to move closer. Zethes happily took the move as an advancement and dramatically sighed. He puffed out his chest.

“I do not want to have to kill such a beauty,” Zethes flew on his back, hand to his heart. “But I must, or my father would be very angry. And my sister- oh gods.”

“Mean,” Calais echoed. He balled his fists up in his red and white hockey jersey. “Very mean sister.”

“Um,” Piper said. “Then don’t kill us?”

Despite how ridiculous it sounded, something in Piper’s voice made Zethes and Calais look at each other.

“Don’t… kill?” Calais questioned, solemn. He looked like he was facing the hardest decision of his life.

Zethes stroked his chin once more. “The pretty girl is right. Don’t kill the pretty girl, then. But we should definitely kill the others, Cal. What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“I do!” Leo piped up. “Don’t kill anyone!”

Zethes turned back with such anger that Piper almost felt bad for Leo. “DON’T TELL US WHAT TO DO! YOU ARE NOT THE PRETTY GIRL!”

“Oh, okay,” Leo shrank back, and Jason patted his back. “No more interruptions from me.”

“We want to speak with, um, King Boreas!” Piper said. She glanced at Medea, who pursed her lips. “We have something important to discuss with him.”

“What is it?” Zethes asked, intrigued. “Are you the ones to install the hockey rink for Cal?”

“Um,” Piper couldn’t really come up with anything. She could see the suspicion spreading across the two’s faces as every second ticked by, and Medea remained quiet.

“Beaches.” Jason came to Piper’s rescue next to her.

“Beaches?” Leo muttered behind them, but they both ignored him.

“Beaches!” Cal exclaimed.

“Beaches,” Piper felt Jason grab her hand, and she welled up with joy at both his warmth and support. “There’s some beaches that we want the King to go to! Lots of sand, and water, and sun-”

“Oh, we hate the sun,” Zethes murmured. He waved his sword at them, folding his arms. “But tell me more. Will this be our romantic getaway?”

“Well, there’s-”

“Enough of this,” A voice called out. Piper’s eyes flew to the top of the stairs, where a woman in a long white dress glared at them. She looked like a furious prom queen who had her crown stolen. Zethes and Cal both winced at the woman’s arrival, and they flew back. The girl gave the group a cold look-over and settled on Medea before flickering back to Jason.

“Is this the boy?” She asked Medea.

Medea straightened. Any amusement she might’ve had from the earlier conversation was gone. “Is your father ready to talk?”

The girl nodded, and Medea gestured to Piper and Jason. “Then it is him.” She clapped a hand on Piper’s shoulder, giving a squeeze and bent by Piper’s ear. “You did well,” she murmured, then stood up. Piper’s face burned.

“Follow me.” The girl spun, grabbing her dress as she began walking. They were ready to go, but Zethes pointed his sword at Leo, who looked just as surprised as the rest of them.

“Not him.”

“What?” Piper cried. “Why not?”

Zethes sniffed the air and shot Leo a nasty look. “He smells like fire. It’s revolting.”

“Fire?” Leo raised his arms up in surrender. “Um, listen, buddy-”

“It’s fine,” Medea cut in. She waved Piper and Jason up the stairs. “No harm will come to him if he is left here.”

Jason frowned. “We can’t just leave Leo. It’s all of us or none of us.”

Medea scrutinized him carefully. Then she snapped her fingers. “Calais. Do not cause any harm to Leo. Do you hear me?”

Cal puffed up his chest and saluted. “Sir, yes, sir!”

“See? Everything is alright,” Medea ushered them up the stairs. “You should be more worried about yourselves.”

Piper was ready to protest but heard Cal ask Leo if he liked hockey. When she got to the top of the stairs, the woman in the white dress was tapping her foot and fuming. Piper tried to turn around to look at Leo again, but Zethes was pretending to stab Jason’s back with his sword. When he saw Piper watching him, he gave her a wink.

“Come now,” the girl demanded. “Winter is not a kind or patient force.”

King Boreas, as it turned out, looked like Santa Claus if Jolly St. Nick was at a movie premiere. He was a rotund man with a white suit, whit a big white beard covered in frost. Piper resisted the urge to shiver as she bowed in front of him- here in the throne room, she was afraid that if she stood too long, she might be as frozen as one of the statues. Jason looked as bad as Piper did, but Medea, of course, seemed unfazed.

“Medea!” Boreas greeted with a joyful laugh. “Bienvenu.”

“Votre Majeste,” Medea curtsied.

French. Of course, she would know French. Piper listened as the princess greeted the man. Khione, who had introduced herself before entering, looked peeved.

“It’s all pleasantries. He’s saying stuff about her grandfather and the last time they had met,” Khione explained. She glared at Medea’s back. “She’s explaining that you are Jason, and you are Piper.”

Piper and Jason moved closer together. Her fingers trembled in her pockets, and she rubbed her knees together. Jason hesitantly put an arm around her and rubbed Piper’s shoulder, to which Khione flared her nostrils.

Medea and Boreas began talking for a while, occasionally looking back at the two demigods. Khione was translating her own little version of events, which sounded very wrong, but it’s not like Piper could argue. She didn’t know French.

Apparently, there was something about a promise to kill them. Then there was some talk about Medea’s favor from Boreas. Boreas gave out a hearty laugh and mentioned in excruciating detail how he wanted to kill Jason and Piper. Khione seemed almost too happy to explain until Piper stuttered out, “W-we get it!”

This drew Boreas and Medea’s attention, and the throne room went silent. Jason protectively stepped out in front of Piper.

“Ah,” Boreas waved his hand toward them. “Come closer.”

“He knows English,” Jason blinked.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Khione sneered.

At the foot of the throne, Boreas gazed upon them with warm brown eyes like the hot cocoa they had drunk earlier. Boreas watched her carefully before turning to Jason. He stroked his beard, then his body flickered, and the man’s suit turned into a toga and his crown shrunk into a laurel wreath. “I see. Son of Jupiter, is it as Medea says?”

Son of Jupiter? Piper’s mind tried to comprehend what that meant, but Jason’s eyes widened, and he stammered. “Um.”

Medea smoothly slid behind them, squeezing their shoulders firmly. “Aquilon,” she announced. “He is here to fight, as promised. The other boy is downstairs for obvious reasons.”

Leo? Piper wanted to demand what was going on, but Medea’s cold grip on her kept her still and quiet.

Boreas surveyed the group. “And if he dies?”

“He will be a gift for your daughter,” Medea promised.

“W-what?” Jason’s shouted. “What are you-”

“Quiet,” Medea demanded, and Jason’s jaw practically cracked at the speed his mouth shut. “Have more faith in yourself, Jason. You will not lose.”

“I’m not fighting anyone,” Jason told her. Overhead, thunder cracked, shaking the hotel. Boreas leaned forward with interest, brown eyes twinkling. Medea glanced down at Piper.

“You will,” Medea told him, “Or the King will kill all of you. This is your chance at staying alive for the time being. Prove your worth to him.”

Jason scowled, and Piper felt him grow rigid. After a moment, he exhaled and muttered, “Fine. But Piper and Leo better stay safe if I do.”

“You have my word,” Boreas spoke. He clapped his hands together, and Khione and Zethes flew to his side. “If you lose, I can’t maintain that the bargain will stand. Do your best, and we shall see.”

Piper and Medea sat off to the side on giant ice cubes like they were watching a sports game. It might as well have been one, with the glee Boreas had and Khione standing at the throne with her arms crossed, watching Zethes and Jason face off.

She had been the one to give Jason a sword. It was shiny steel, and Jason tentatively accepted it. He spun his wrist around, getting a feel for it, while Zethes stood across. The immortal was hopping up and down, tossing Piper flirty waves as he hyped himself up.

Medea crossed her legs, back straight, as she watched Jason move. Piper was trying not to slide off her ice cube as she wondered how Medea could stay so calm. From what Piper had gathered yesterday at the Grand Canyon, Jason could fight, but Zethes was immortal. No one but Boreas was allowed to interfere, and the words fight until incapacitated were worryingly vague. But Medea was so calm that she must’ve known something.

“What do you gain from this?” Piper asked. “A fight can’t be that simple.”

“Ever a sharp girl,” Medea beamed at her. “Of course, there is something else to be gained. It will be helpful in the long run.”

“Is it for your patron?” Piper hissed.

“You will see in time.”

Piper watched Jason’s body slide into a stance she’d never seen outside the movies. His feet wobbled from the iced floors, but he seemed to get the hang of it. His eyebrows knotted in concentration as he experimentally swung.

“How’d you do it?” Piper asked.

Medea shifted her gaze to the girl. “Pardon?”

“How’d you get Jason to listen to you?” Piper murmured. Khione murmured into Zethes’s ear, and Jason awkwardly waited. “And Leo too. It’s like you’re doing something to them- making them do stuff and comply. How are you doing it?”

At first, Piper was sure that Medea would lie to her. Treat her like a child, dismiss her, keep another secret, or manipulate the truth. But Medea just slid her hands into her pockets and bent forward. “Charmspeak.”

“Charmspeak,” Piper repeated. “What is that?”

“A gift,” Medea said. Unfortunately, she doesn’t get to finish because Boreas gives out a hearty Go! In English and French, the two opponents scrambled to hit a blow.

Piper watched Jason, holding her breath. She didn’t know his abilities, but she didn’t want to believe the Grand Canyon was a fluke.

But Zethes wasn’t easy to count out either. The immortal flew to Jason in seconds, slashing away with his ice sword like Jason was just an obstacle to overcome. Jason ducked away, gritting his teeth, and recentered himself for Zethes’ next barrage.

“You have good shoulders,” Zethes commented, wings fluttering excitedly. “Cal shall use you to practice hockey moves!” He swiped at Jason but only managed to nip the demigod’s cheek. “We will have to dispose of the fire boy, though. Fire is unpleasant. And for the girl-”

Jason smacked away Zethes sword. He glanced at Piper, eyebrows furrowing. Piper bit her lip, wishing Jason well with this upper hand. Then he began showering Zethes with wild swipes, the immortal left flying away to escape.

“A shame,” Medea sighed and completely turned away from the match. “Of course, it was going to be short, but Zethes was never a strong fighter. Even if Jason lost his skills… well, this makes things easier in the long run.” She sighed again. “What do you see, dear?”

“I see…” Piper murmured. “Jason winning.”

“But do you know why?”

Piper watched Zethes fumble flying out of reach, but Jason stayed persistent. Piper was sure this fight would’ve been called for if it wasn’t for the ice floor tripping Jason up. His feet kept jerking at the worst moments while Zethes managed to hover a few centimeters above. Boreas began muttering in Khione’s ear, and the ice goddess seemed displeased.

“Jason’s a good fighter,” Piper stated. Her heart swelled up with pride.

“He was one of the best, once,” Medea told her. “A shame.”

Piper pulled on her hood, shivering. She wanted this to be done so they could go somewhere much warmer. She was comforted by Medea’s trust in Jason, though. She knew Jason would win. “Did you know Jason before? His-”

“Real memories?”

Piper’s gaze dropped to the ground. “Yeah. His real life before Wilderness.”

In front of them, Jason had Zethes pinned, a constant thud, thud, thud, from Zethes’s wings beating against his restraint.

“Dear, of course not,” Medea laughed. “I’m only a seer. My patron tells me these things.”

“A seer with charmspeak,” Piper said.

“Amongst other things, yes,” Medea smiled.

“Who is this patron you keep mentioning? Do they know about Jason’s memories?”

Medea’s smile grew wider, sharper. “Would you like to meet her?”

“I-” Piper swallowed. She didn’t know.

It didn’t matter because Khione snapped at Zethes, “You idiot! Are you as useless as you look?”

Zethes paled, and Jason looked over to Piper as if to say, Now what? Zethes slapped his hands at Jason’s chest to push him off, but it didn’t do anything.

“Carry on, demigod,” Boreas leaned forward, hands steepled with his elbows on his knees. “Le teur!”

The room dropped a few degrees. Instantly, Khione whirled at her father, face growing red. Ice twisted from her feet, jagged spikes sprouting from each enraged step.

“Father-” She began prattling off in heated French.

Beneath Jason, Zethes began shifting, but his wing was pinned under Jason’s knee. “Get off-”

“What’d he say?” Jason asked Medea at the same time as Piper. Zethes furtively protested against him.

Medea smiled. “He’s asking you to kill him, Jason.”

Piper froze. “Kill him? He can’t be serious. Zethes is-” The immortal beat his fists against Jason’s chest. “-that’s his son.”

“Children are expendable to gods,” Medea scolded her. “It is not-”

“But he’s immortal,” Jason said, frowning down at Zethes.

Medea’s eyes fell to the writhing winged boy. “There’s always a way. Even gods can fall.”

“Seriously? I can’t just-” Jason’s voice got cut off when Zethes’ right hook collided with his cheek. The blond tumbled to the ground, and the boys wrestled over each other. Jason’s sword clattered out of reach.

“Jason can’t kill him,” Piper said. “He’s not a murderer.”

“You don’t know Jason,” Medea said. “If he were to receive his memories and there were memories of him killing, what would change?”

“That wouldn’t happen,” Piper decided. “I know Jason.”

“Remember, dear,” Medea warned. “If Jason doesn’t fight to the King’s liking,” her eyes glowed a mesmerizing magenta. “Then it’s your death today. I believe Jason realizes that as well.”

Jason and Zethes scrambled away, each reaching out for the closest sword in reach. Khione fumed, turning on her heel to stomp out of the room. Boreas rubbed his temples and relaxed back into his chair, waving Zethes on.

Zethes, although panting, bolted at Jason with renewed speed. They collided in a flurry, skidding across the ice. Jason had the ice sword in hand, and the blade was slipping out of his heated, sweaty hands with each press from his opponent.

Piper was sure he would win when it had been Jason on the offense. But now?

“He’s not-” Piper slid off her block of ice. She slipped and landed on her butt but crawled to her feet. “We’ve got to stop them-”

A freezing hand snatched up her wrist. “We cannot.”

“Yes, we can!” Piper’s other hand scratched at the one holding her, but Medea’s grip remained strong. “You have that- that charmspeak! You can tell Jason to stop. You have to!”

Zethes’s sword swiped at Jason’s side, and the demigod groaned. His foot slid back too far against the ice, and he stumbled, dropping to his knees.

“Piper, dear,” Medea said. “You have the power as well. It’s within your reach if you truly want that. I, however, cannot and will not stop them. This is Jason’s fight.”

“W-What?”

Medea let her go and stood as well, brushing off her clothes. “If you desire to, you can tell Jason and Zethes to stop. I’m sure they’ll listen if it were you. It’s like what you attempted downstairs.”

Before them, Zethes kicked Jason down and nudged his toe into Jason’s torso. Jason’s groan shook Piper to her core.

“Are you sure, father?” Zethes’ voice trembled as he kneed into Jason, his sword held high.

Boreas roared a yes. Piper’s heart dropped. She had to do something.

But before she could shout out and interrupt, Zethes’ sword swung, and an anguished cry erupted through the room.