ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

vii.

They reached the lord of the South Wind's palace by noon, but nothing had happened. By their fifth day of waiting for an audience with the lord, Aza was beginning to grow impatient. She considered leaving and heading towards Sparta, but the thought of leaving any of them - Jason, Piper, Nico - before she absolutely had to made her chest tighten.

She felt like, if she was with them, she could control everything. At least Aza would know everything that was happening, and she would be able to watch out for her friends. The worst part about leaving, about going on her own as she was the uncertainty. She wouldn't know if her friends were in danger, or if they needed her help. She would be blind to everything else - but Percy had asked her to lead their friends to Epirus. She had promised, and now she realized she had to break it.

She leaned against the rails of the deck and examined her arms; her forearms were still their normal terra-cotta; like a lighter, softer, browner color than her eyes, but she had tanned considerably in the sun. Her skin was now sepia, like the dark sandy beach that glittered around the bay. The best they knew, they were on the northern coast of Africa; that was all the wind spirits had told Jason. Aza had always been forgetful about applying Medea's SPF, and so the sun beat harshly against her skin, and she could practically feel it boiling and searing.

Initially the wind spirits had welcomed them. It certainly helped that Notus, the South Wind, hated Boreas; and the classic 'enemy of my enemy is my friend' caused him to embrace the demigods. He even offered to help repair their ship.

But as the days dwindled past, the god's mood seemed to be getting worse and worse. She worried that the longer they stayed, the less likely he would be to help him. But he had yet to approve their request for an audience, and the wind spirits quickly lost interest in helping them repair the Argo.

Aza was taking a break after helping Leo repair the mainsail and the rigging. He had moved on to the oars, whilst Hazel and Frank fiddled with the controls at the help; Piper stood by them and directed Gleeson, who hung over the side of the ship and hammered out dents in the oars.

Aza had yet to tell them about her quest. It didn't seem so imminent anymore, as they waited on the African coast for Notus to speak with them. She almost felt like they would be there forever, but that didn't stop her mind from wandering. She wondered if she would even survive.

She turned when she heard hushed whispers. Nico had approached Jason. It made her happy that he looked better; certainly healthier, and more like the Nico she remembered. He was still gaunt and lithe; he always had been, but he had gained back the weight he had lost, and had rebuilt some of his muscle. His sword and Diocletian's scepter hung on either side of his belt.

She couldn't hear what they were saying, but Aza knew both of them well enough to read their body language. Nico had curled inwards, and his face scrunched into a scowl. She had seen that posture a thousand times; he was hiding, letting his shaggy hair flop over his face and to hide him from the rest of the world. Jason raised his hands in submission, and he poorly concealed pity.

She wanted to know what they were talking about - she wanted to know what happened when the two of them went off. Their dynamic had changed to the extreme, and Nico seemed even jumpier and closed-off than usual.

Their conversation ended when the doors to the throne room blasted open with a gust of scorching air. Jason sucked in a breath, and he glanced at Aza. Nico melted back into the shadows, and Aza watched as her boyfriend marched towards the entryway for his audience with the king.

The South Wind had said something to Jason - something that struck him, and changed him. Aza could sense it the instant he reappeared on the ship; they had gotten permission to leave the harbor, and the wind god had given them a team of anemoi thuellai to pull their ship. But something changed in Jason's posture, and the way he held himself. She could sense it, too - she just felt like something had changed. Aza couldn't put her finger on it.