𝙰𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚜 (𝙹.𝙶.) [𝟷] (ON HIATUS)

1.8

PISSING OF ICE BITCH

If the entry halls had been cold, the throne room was like a meat locker—on steroids. Mist hung in the air like a bad horror movie, and Jason's breath steamed in front of him, forming little clouds that quickly dissipated into the frosty atmosphere. Thank the gods for Mae's ring, which managed to keep his body warm without drawing too much attention from Khione and Zethes, who were undoubtedly watching his every move. 

Purple tapestries lined the walls, depicting scenes of snowy forests, barren mountains, and glaciers that looked like they could give you frostbite just by staring at them too long. High above, the ceiling was alive with the aurora borealis, its ribbons of colored light pulsing in a hypnotic dance. It might have been beautiful if Jason's teeth weren't chattering so hard he was afraid he'd chip one.

A layer of snow blanketed the floor, turning each step into a precarious adventure. Jason had to be careful not to slip and fall flat on his face—because nothing screams "heroic demigod" like wiping out in front of a room full of ice sculptures. Speaking of which, those sculptures were creepy as Tartarus. Life-sized ice warriors stood along the walls, frozen in mid-attack with swords raised and guns locked and loaded. There were Greek soldiers, medieval knights, and even some modern camouflage-clad soldiers. It was like a frozen museum of "Ways to Die Horribly."

At least Jason thought they were sculptures. Then he tried to step between two Greek spearmen, and they moved with surprising speed, their joints cracking and spraying ice crystals as they crossed their javelins to block Jason's path. 

From the far end of the hall, a man's voice rang out in a language that sounded like French. The room was so long and misty, Jason couldn't see the other end; but whatever the man said, the ice guards uncrossed their javelins.

"It's fine," Khione said with a frosty smirk. "My father has ordered them not to kill you just yet."

"Super," Jason said dryly, feeling less enthusiastic about his prospects.

Zethes, one of the ice princess's charming brothers, prodded Jason in the back with the flat of his sword. "Keep moving, Jason Junior."

Jason sighed. "Please don't call me that."

From behind, Piper couldn't suppress a snicker. "Mae's definitely gonna call you that if she were here."

Jason sighed. Piper was right. Mae would never let him live down a nickname like that. Her humor was as relentless as her sunny disposition, which he now found himself missing more than ever.

"My father is not a patient man," Zethes warned, finally tearing his gaze away from his frosty mirror. "And the beautiful Piper, sadly, is losing her magic hairdo very fast. Later, perhaps, I can lend her something from my wide assortment of hair products."

Piper rolled her eyes. "Thanks, but I'm good. Really."

Zethes smirked, then turned his attention back to Jason. "And that other girl, Mae... If only she didn't have those fire powers. Such a shame. Fire and ice, not a good mix."