ichor - jason grace

VII

As they began to climb the icy staircase, Zethes stayed behind them, his blade drawn. He may have looked like a disco-era reject, but his sword was nothing to laugh at. One hit from that thing and they'd probably be turned into a popsicle.

Then there was the ice princess. Every once in a while, she'd turn around and smile at Jason, but there was no warmth in her expression. She was staring at Jason like he was something she couldn't wait to dissect.

Nell was curious as to what Boreas would be like if these were his kids. She was sure that Boreas was the friendliest of the wind gods but clearly that just meant that he wouldn't kill them as fast as the others.

Nell took a look at Jason. He must have been more nervous than he was letting on, because he reached over and took her hand for reassurance. She gave it a squeeze.

"We'll be fine," she said. "It's just a talk, right?"

At the top of the stairs, the ice princess looked back and noticed them holding hands. Her smile faded. Suddenly Jason's hand in Nell's turned ice-cold - burning cold. He let go, and his fingers were smoking with frost. So were Nell's.

"Warmth is not a good idea here," the princess advised, "especially when I am your best chance of staying alive. Please, this way."

Piper gave them both a nervous frown as if to say what was that about?

Jason didn't have an answer. Zethes poked him in the back with his icicle sword, and they followed the princess down a massive hallway decked in icy tapestries.

Freezing winds blew back and forth as the group continued walking. Nell noticed that Jason seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. She knocked his arm with her elbow.

"You still with us, Sparky?"

"Yeah... yeah, sorry."

They kept walking until they found themselves in front of a set of oak doors carved with a map of the world. In each corner was a man's bearded face, blowing wind. The faces in the corner were all the same, Winter, blowing ice and snow from every corner of the world.

The princess turned. Her brown eyes glittered, and she eyed Jason like he was a Christmas present she was hoping to open.

"This is the throne room," she said. "Be on your best behaviour, Jason Grace. My father can be... chilly. I will translate for you and try to encourage him to hear you out. I do hope he spares you. We could have so much fun."

Nell guessed her idea of fun wasn't the same as theirs.

"Um, okay," he managed. "But really we're just here for a little talk. We'll be leaving right afterwards."

The girl smiled. "I love heroes. So blissfully ignorant."

Nell had a sinking feeling that this talk wasn't going to be as smooth as they'd hoped for.

Piper had clearly gotten sick of the princess. She rested her hand on her dagger. "Well, how about you enlighten us? You say you're going to translate for us, and we don't even know who you are. What's your name?"

The girl sniffed in distaste. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you don't recognise me. Even in ancient times, the Greeks did not know me well. Their island homes were too warm, too far from my domain. I am Khione, daughter of Boreas, goddess of snow."

She stirred the air with her finger, and a miniature blizzard swirled around her - big, fluffy flakes as soft as cotton.

"Now, come," Khione said. The oak doors blew open, and cold blue light spilt out of the room. "Hopefully you will survive your little talk."