The House of Hades (The Heros of Olympus, Book 4)

LEO STARED AT THE DAGGER. “Okay…so I don’t like your idea as much as I thought. You think one of us defeats Gaea and the other one dies? Or maybe one of us dies while defeating her? Or—”

“Guys,” Jason said, “we’ll drive ourselves crazy overthinking it. You know how prophecies are. Heroes always get in trouble trying to thwart them.”

“Yeah,” Leo muttered. “We’d hate to get in trouble. We’ve got it so good right now.”

“You know what I mean,” Jason said. “The final breath line might not be connected to the storm and fire part. For all we know, the two of us aren’t even storm and fire. Percy can raise hurricanes.”

“And I could always set Coach Hedge on fire,” Leo volunteered. “Then he can be fire.”

The thought of a blazing satyr screaming, “Die, scumbag!” as he attacked Gaea was almost enough to make Piper laugh— almost.

“I hope I’m wrong,” she said cautiously. “But the whole quest started with us finding Hera and waking that giant king Porphyrion. I have a feeling the war will end with us too. For better or worse.”

“Hey,” Jason said, “personally, I like us.”

“Agreed,” Leo said. “Us is my favorite people.”

Piper managed a smile. She really did love these guys. She wished she could use her charmspeak on the Fates, describe a happy ending, and force them to make it come true.

Unfortunately, it was hard to imagine a happy ending with all the dark thoughts in her head. She worried that the giant Clytius had been put in their path to eliminate Leo as a threat. If so, that meant Gaea would also try to eliminate Jason. Without storm or fire, their quest couldn’t succeed.

And this wintry weather bothered her too.… She felt certain it was being caused by something more than just Diocletian’s scepter. The cold wind, the mix of ice and rain seemed actively hostile, and somehow familiar.

That smell in the air, the thick smell of…

Piper should have understood what was happening sooner, but she’d spent most of her life in Southern California with no major changes of season. She hadn’t grown up with that smell…the smell of impending snow.

Every muscle in her body tensed. “Leo, sound the alarm.”

Piper hadn’t realized she was charmspeaking, but Leo immediately dropped his screwdriver and punched the alarm button. He frowned when nothing happened.

“Uh, it’s disconnected,” he remembered. “Festus is shut down. Gimme a minute to get the system back online.”

“We don’t have a minute! Fires—we need vials of Greek fire. Jason, call the winds. Warm, southerly winds.”

“Wait, what?” Jason stared at her in confusion. “Piper, what’s wrong?”

“It’s her!” Piper snatched up her dagger. “She’s back! We have to—”

Before she could finish, the boat listed to port. The temperature dropped so fast, the sails crackled with ice. The bronze shields along the rails popped like over-pressurized soda cans.

Jason drew his sword, but it was too late. A wave of ice particles swept over him, coating him like a glazed donut and freezing him in place. Under a layer of ice, his eyes were wide with amazement.

“Leo! Flames! Now!” Piper yelled.

Leo’s right hand blazed, but the wind swirled around him and doused the fire. Leo clutched his Archimedes sphere as a funnel cloud of sleet lifted him off his feet.

“Hey!” he yelled. “Hey! Let me go!”

Piper ran toward him, but a voice in the storm said, “Oh, yes, Leo Valdez. I will let you go permanently.”

Leo shot skyward, like he’d been launched from a catapult. He disappeared into the clouds.

“No!” Piper raised her knife, but there was nothing to attack. She looked desperately at the stairwell, hoping to see her friends charging to the rescue, but a block of ice had sealed the hatch. The whole lower deck might have been frozen solid.

She needed a better weapon to fight with—something more than her voice, a stupid fortune-telling dagger, and a cornucopia that shot ham and fresh fruit.

She wondered whether she could make it to the ballista.

Then her enemies appeared, and she realized that no weapon would be enough.

Standing amidships was a girl in a flowing dress of white silk, her mane of black hair pinned back with a circlet of diamonds. Her eyes were the color of coffee, but without the warmth.

Behind her stood her brothers—two young men with purple-feathered wings, stark white hair, and jagged swords of Celestial bronze.

“So good to see you again, ma chère,” said Khione, the goddess of snow. “It’s time we had a very cold reunion.”