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🔥🔥🔥🔥Leo's pov🔥🔥🔥🔥

I WAS TOTALLY BUZZING.

The expression on everyone's faces when I flew the dragon into camp? Priceless! I thought my cabin mates were going to bust a lug nut.

Festus had been awesome too. He hadn't blowtorched a single cabin or eaten any satyrs, even if he did dribble a little oil from his ear. Okay, a lot of oil. I could work on that later.

So maybe I didn't seize the chance to tell everybody about Bunker 9 or the flying boat design. I needed some time to think about all that. I could tell them when we came back.

If we come back, part of me thought.

Nah, we'd come back. I'd scored a sweet magic tool belt from the bunker, plus a lot of cool supplies now safely stowed in my backpack. Besides, I had a fire-breathing, only slightly leaky dragon on our side. What could go wrong?

Well, the control disk could bust, the bad part of me suggested. Festus could eat you.

Okay, so the dragon wasn't quite as fixed as I might've let on. I'd worked all night attaching those wings, but I hadn't found an extra dragon brain anywhere in the bunker. Hey, they were under a time limit! Three days until the solstice. They had to get going. Besides, I had cleaned the disk pretty well. Most of the circuits were still good. It would just have to hold together.

My bad side started to think, Yeah, but what if—

"Shut up, me," I said aloud.

"What?" Aimee asked laying her head against my back.

"Nothing," I said. "Long night. I think I'm hallucinating. It's cool."

Sitting in front, I couldn't see their faces, but I assumed from their silence that my friends were not pleased to have a sleepless, hallucinating dragon driver.

"Just joking." I decided it might be good to change the subject. "So what's the plan, m'lady? You said something about catching wind, or breaking wind, or something?"

As they flew over New England, Aimee laid out the game plan: First, find some guy named Boreas and grill him for information—

"His name is Boreas?" I had to ask which made Aimee slap my head slightly. "What is he, the God of Boring?"

Second, Aimee continued, they had to find those venti that had attacked them at the Grand Canyon—

"Can we just call them storm spirits?" I asked. "Venti makes them sound like evil espresso drinks."

And third, Aimee finished, they had to find out who the storm spirits worked for, so they could find Hera and free her.

"So you want to look for Dylan, the nasty storm dude, on purpose," I said. "The guy who threw me off the skywalk and sucked Coach Hedge into the clouds."

"That's about it," Aimee said. "Well ... there may be a wolf involved, too. But I think she's friendly. She probably won't eat us, unless we show weakness."

Jason told them about their dream—the big nasty mother wolf and a burned-out house with stone spires growing out of the swimming pool.

"Uh-huh," I said. "But you don't know where this place is."

"Nope," Aimee admitted her eyes looking down at the cities below them.

"There's also giants," Piper added. "The prophecy said the giants' revenge."

"Hold on," I said. "Giants—like more than one? Why can't it be just one giant who wants revenge?"

"I don't think so," Piper said. "I remember in some of the old Greek stories, there was something about an army of giants."

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