Eye of Hecate

Ozzy

I'm afraid we'll lose our target. 

The storm spirit moves like...well, like the wind.

"Speed up!" Jason urges.

"Bro," Leo says, "if I get any closer, he'll spot us. Bronze dragon ain't exactly a stealth plane."

"Slow down!" Piper yelps.

The storm spirit dives into the grid of downtown streets. Festus tries to follow, but his wingspan is way too wide. His left wing clips the edge of a building, slicing off a stone gargoyle before Leo pulls up.

"Get above the buildings," I suggest. "We'll track him from there."

"You want to drive this thing?" Leo grumbles, but he does what I asked.

After a few minutes, Jason spots the storm spirit again, zipping through the streets with no apparent purpose—blowing over pedestrians, ruffling flags, making cars swerve.

"Oh great," Piper says. "There're two."

She's right. A second storm spirit blasts around the corner of the Renaissance Hotel and links up with the first. They weave together in a chaotic dance, shooting to the top of a skyscraper, bending a radio tower, and diving back down toward the street.

"Those guys do not need any more caffeine," Leo says.

"Looks like they've already had venti espressos." I joke. 

Leo laughs and high-fives me.  

"I guess Chicago's a good place to hang out," Piper says. "Nobody's going to question a couple more evil winds."

"More than a couple," Jason says. "Look."

The dragon circles over a wide avenue next to a lake-side park. Storm spirits are converging—at least a dozen of them, whirling around a big public art installation.

"Which one do you think is Dylan?" Leo asks. "I wanna throw something at him."

I don't know who Dylan is, but I focus on the art installation. The closer we get to it, the faster my heart beats. It's just a public fountain. I don't know why it makes me so nervous. Two five-story monoliths rise from either end of a long granite reflecting pool. The monoliths seem to be built of video screens, flashing the combined image of a giant face that spews water into the pool. As I watch, the images on the screens change to a woman's face with her eyes closed.

"Leo..." I say nervously. 

"I see her," Leo says. "I don't like her, but I see her."

Then the screens go dark. The storm spirits swirl together into a single funnel cloud and skitter across the fountain, kicking up a waterspout almost as high as the monoliths. They get to its center, pop off a drain cover, and disappear underground.

"Did they just go down a drain?" Piper asks. "How are we supposed to follow them?"

"Maybe we shouldn't," Leo says. "That fountain thing is giving me seriously bad vibes. And aren't we supposed to, like, beware the earth?"

"Put us down in that park," Jason suggests. "We'll check it out on foot."

Festus lands in an open area between the lake and the skyline. The signs say Grant Park, and I imagine it would be a nice place in the summer; but now it's a field of ice, snow, and salted walkways. The dragon's hot metal feet hiss as they touch down. Festus flaps his wings unhappily and shoots fire into the sky, but there's no one around to notice. The wind coming off the lake is bitter cold. Anyone with sense will be inside. My eyes sting so badly, I can barely see. 

We dismount, and Festus the dragon stomps his feet. One of his ruby eyes flickers, so it looks like he's winking.

"Is that normal?" I ask.

Leo pulls a rubber mallet from his tool bag. He whacks the dragon's bad eye, and the light goes back to normal.

"Yes," Leo says. "Festus can't hang around here, though, in the middle of the park. They'll arrest him for loitering. Maybe if I had a dog whistle..."

He rummages in his tool belt, but comes up with nothing.

"Too specialized?" he guesses. "Okay, give me a safety whistle. They got that in lots of machine shops."

This time, Leo pulls out a big plastic orange whistle. "Coach Hedge would be jealous! Okay, Festus, listen." Leo blows the whistle. The shrill sound probably rolls all the way across Lake Michigan. "You hear that, come find me, okay? Until then, you fly wherever you want. Just try not to barbecue any pedestrians."

The dragon snorts—hopefully in agreement. Then he spreads his wings and launches into the air.

Piper takes one step and winces. "Ah!"

"Your ankle?" Jason steps beside her worriedly. "That nectar we gave you might be wearing off."