heavy bones [jason grace]

6. no destroy please!

Jason gives me the short version of what I missed while I slept: his dream with the giant she-wolf, Hera's cage, Leo's psychotic babysitter, Earth Woman, and Piper's dad being Tristan McLean. If I have a visible reaction to Earth Woman, Jason doesn't mention it. Giants plus a woman made of dirt has to equal Gaea, which means we're on the brink of the Second Giant War. Makes sense, considering we just had the Second Titan War, but couldn't Gaea have waited a few years? I'm pretty sure I've filled my apocalypse quota.

I decide not to mention Gaea to my new friends because typically people get scared when they hear the word war.

"Why do you guys wait to have an interesting conversation after I fall asleep?" I complain.

"Tell me that's Quebec and not Santa's workshop," Leo says. I follow his gaze. Below us kind of looks like Santa's village had a baby with Hogwarts. It's gorgeous. Man, I wish I had a camera with me.

"Yeah, Quebec City," Piper confirms. "One of the oldest cities in North America. Founded around sixteen hundred or so?" I raise my eyebrows, impressed. I haven't known Piper long — I don't even think we've technically hit the 24-hour mark yet — but I didn't get the vibe she's a trivia kind of person.

Leo has a similar expression on his face. "Your dad do a movie about that too?"

Piper scowls. "I read sometimes, okay? Just because Aphrodite claimed me, doesn't mean I have to be an airhead." I narrow my eyes. What the fuck does that mean?

"Are you saying all children of Aphrodite are airheads?" I snap.

She looks over her shoulder at me, eyes wide. "No—"

"Lacey is one of the smartest demigods I know," I growl, "and Silena...Silena was fucking brilliant. Even Drew, as much as I hate to say it, is smart. That girl is cunning and manipulative, she has to be. They may seem shallow to you, but aren't you the shallow one for making those assumptions about them?"

Silena. Fuck. I don't want to cry, I really don't, but now I'm thinking about Silena. Silena Beaureguard, who took me under her wing when I first came to camp, who taught me how to apply makeup, who introduced me to Lacy, who was a big sister to everyone at camp, who had no obligation to but cared for me nonetheless because I was a traumatized little kid who needed a friend. Shit, I'm crying. I try to hide my tears by turning away from everyone.

When I turn away, I catch a glimpse of two winged figures heading our way. "Fuck. We have company." Festus comes to as close as a screeching halt as a flying dragon can manage. It sounds like he's moments away from roasting the approaching angels.

"Steady, boy," Leo murmurs.

Jason makes a face. "I don't like this. They don't look like storm spirits."

"Because they're not," I chime in. "We're heading to Boreas, right? Those are probably his kids. Fuck, I can't remember their names." They're getting closer now. They kind of look like one of us — teenagers, but with purple wings and Jack Frost's hair. Their swords are icicles. One of them looks like a hockey fan and the other one looks like a rock star who can't decide which century he belongs to.

"No clearance," the hockey fan grunts.

Leo furrows his brow. "'Scuse me?"

"You have no flight plan on file," the rock star says in a pathetically bad French accent. "This is restricted airspace."

I scoff. "How would we even send you a flight plan? Do you guys have like a website or something?"

The hockey fan doesn't seem to care for my biting wit. "Destroy them?" Jason summons his sword, but I gesture for him to stand down. He quirks an eyebrow, silently asking for an explanation. I mouth, Leo's got this.