SAFE . . . reyna ramirez-arellano

11 - winter is bad

BRIAR DIDN'T WANT to leave Leo, but she was starting to think that hanging out with Cal the hockey jock might be the least dangerous option in this place.

As they climbed the icy staircase, Zethes stayed behind them, his blade drawn. The guy might've looked like a disco-era reject, but there was nothing funny about his sword. Briar figured one hit from that thing would probably turn her into a Popsicle. And she fucking hated popsicles.

Then there was the ice princess. Every once in a while she'd turn and give Briar and Jason a smile, but there was no warmth in her expression. She regarded Jason like he was an especially interesting science specimen — one she couldn't wait to dissect. Briar hated it. She didn't have any attention on her at all but from the creep, and she didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

But either way, if these were Boreas's kids, Briar wasn't sure she wanted to meet Daddy.

Jason took Briar's hand for reassurance.

She raised her eyebrows, but she didn't let go. She missed the feel of Reyna in that dream — warm and loving. As if her hand had tingles just because their hands were touching. But she couldn't argue with what she had now, even if Jason's hand was freezing, and if he totally had the hots for a certain Leo Valdez.

"It'll be fine," she promised. "Just a talk, right?"

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

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

Briar's eyebrows rose further. Your hand was freezing, she mouthed at him.

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

Freezing winds blew back and forth, and Briar's thoughts moved almost as fast. She'd had a lot of time to think while they rode the dragon north, but she felt as confused as ever.

She wished that she had more knowledge of why she knew shit. She knew myths that she didn't know how she'd came to learn them. She knew her accomplishments, but she didn't know when, how, or why she did them.

But mostly, she wished she had memories about Reyna. It would make betraying Jason and Leo a lot easier. That memory of the morning in the bed wasn't enough — at least not for Briar. She wished that she knew more about her girlfriend. It was tough to have a rush of emotion every time she thought of dark eyes or Reyna's stupidly hot morning voice when she couldn't even remember her last name.

It hurt. It really hurt.

Briar brought herself back to reality, shaking her head. She looked over and noticed Jason totally spaced out.

"Hey." She hit his shoulder lightly. "You still alive?"

"Yeah . . . yeah, sorry."

"There are probably other people who hate that you're alive, and yet you're apologizing to me, who appreciates your existence." Briar scoffed. "Despicable. Absolutely despicable."

". . . thanks, Bri."

Her lips pursed at the nickname, but she accepted it. "Happy to help, Jay."

At the end of the hallway they found themselves in front of a set of oaken doors carved with a map of the world. In each corner was a man's bearded face, blowing wind. Briar was pretty sure she'd seen maps like this before. But in this version, all the wind guys were Winter, blowing ice and snow from every corner of the world.