True Blue ✷ Leo Valdez.

18: Obituary.

   HIKING WAS NEVER Blaire's forte. She'd always been an avid hater of walking for extended periods of time, no matter how urgent the situation was. The trek to Aleous' palace was absolutely no exception. In fact, it was the most agitating hike she'd ever been forced to endure.

  It was all uphill, considering a steep flight of stairs was what seperated them from the fortress. And the steps were slippery with ice, causing Blaire to stumble every so often. Ahead of her, Jason was carrying the bag of wind spirits, grumbling to himself. Beside him, Leo was swatting at his legs as he went, making sure they wouldn't catch fire omce more.

The only one who seemed in a good mood was Coach Hedge. He kept bounding up the slippery staircase and trotting back down. "Come on, cupcakes! Only a few thousand more steps!"

Frankly, it was a treacherous journey. And Blairw was incredibly relieved when they'd finally made it to the top of the island. Bronze walls marched all the way around the fortress grounds, though Blaire couldn't imagine who could possibly have the dedication to attack this place. Twenty- foot-high gates opened for them, and a road of polished purple stone led up to the main citadel—a white-columned rotunda, Greek style, like one of the monuments in Washington, D.C. —except for the cluster of satellite dishes and radio towers on the roof.

"That's bizarre," Piper muttered in awe.

Blaire had to agree. She'd never seen anything quite like it.

"Guess you can't get cable on a floating island," Leo joked. "Dang, check this guy's front yard."

The rotunda sat in the center of a quarter-mile circle. The grounds were amazing in a scary way. They were divided into four sections like big pizza slices, each one representing a season.

The section on their right was an icy waste, with bare trees and a frozen lake. Snowmen rolled across the landscape as the wind blew, so it was hard to be sure wether they were alive or not.

To their left was an autumn park with gold and red trees. Mounds of leaves blew into patterns—gods, people, animals that ran after each other before scattering back into leaves.

In the distance, Jason could see two more areas behind the rotunda. One looked like a green pasture with sheep made out of clouds. The last section was a desert where tumbleweeds scratched strange patterns in the sand like Greek letters, smiley faces, and a huge advertisement that read: watch aeolus nightly!

"One section for each of the four wind gods," Jason guessed. "Four cardinal directions."

"I'm loving that pasture." Coach Hedge licked his lips, nearly drooling at the sight of the grass. "You guys mind—"

"Go ahead," Jason told the Satyr, looking around at his friends knowingly. It was a relief the Satyr excused himself, for it would be hard to get on Aleous' good side with Hedge waving his club and screaming "Die!"

While the satyr ran off to attack springtime, Jason, Leo, Piper, and Blaire walked down the road to the steps of the palace. They passed through the front doors into a white marble foyer decorated with purple banners that read olympian weather channel, and some that just read ow!

"Hello!" A woman floated up to them. Literally floated. She was pretty in that elfish way Blaire associated with nature spirits at Camp Half-Blood—petite, slightly pointy ears, and an ageless face that could've been sixteen or thirty. Her brown eyes twinkled cheerfully. Even though there was no wind, her dark hair blew in slow motion, shampoo-commercial style. Her white gown billowed around her like parachute material. They couldn't tell if she had feet, but if so, they didn't touch the floor. She had a white tablet computer in her hand. "Are you from Lord Zeus?" she asked. "We've been expecting you."