“No,” Piper said. “Not at all. ”
She stared at the logo on the wall: monocle motors, the single red eye. Something about that logo bothered her.
Maybe it was the idea Enceladus was watching her, holding her father for leverage. She had to save him, but how could she betray her friends?
“Jason,” she said. “Speaking of the truth, I need to tell you something—something about my dad—”
She didn’t get the chance. Somewhere below, metal clanged against metal, like a door slamming shut. The sound echoed through the warehouse.
Jason stood. He took out his coin and flipped it, snatching his golden sword out of the air. He peered over the railing. “Leo?” he called.
No answer.
He crouched next to Piper. “I don’t like this. ”
“He could be in trouble,” Piper said. “Go check. ”
“I can’t leave you alone. ”
“I’ll be fine. ” She felt terrified, but she wasn’t about to admit it. She drew her dagger Katoptris and tried to look confident. “Anyone gets close, I’ll skewer them. ”
Jason hesitated. “I’ll leave you the pack. If I’m not back in five minutes—”
“Panic?” she suggested.
He managed a smile. “Glad you’re back to normal. The makeup and the dress were a lot more intimidating than the dagger. ”
“Get going, Sparky, before I skewer you. ”
“Sparky?”
Even offended, Jason looked hot. It wasn’t fair. Then he made his way to the stairs and disappeared into the dark.
Piper counted her breaths, trying to gauge how much time had passed. She lost track at around forty-three. Then something in the warehouse went bang!
The echo died. Piper’s heart pounded, but she didn’t call out. Her instincts told her it might not be a good idea.
She stared at her splinted ankle. It’s not like I can run. Then she looked up again at the Monocle Motors sign. A little voice in her head pestered her, warning of danger. Something from Greek mythology …
Her hand went to her backpack. She took out the ambrosia squares. Too much would burn her up, but would a little more fix her ankle?
Boom. The sound was closer this time, directly below her. She dug out a whole square of ambrosia and stuffed it in her mouth. Her heart raced faster. Her skin felt feverish.
Hesitantly, she flexed her ankle against the splint. No pain, no stiffness at all. She cut through the duct tape with her dagger and heard heavy steps on the stairs—like metal boots.
Had it been five minutes? Longer? The steps didn’t sound like Jason, but maybe he was carrying Leo. Finally she couldn’t stand it. Gripping her dagger, she called out, “Jason?”
“Yeah,” he said from the darkness. “On my way up. ”
Definitely Jason’s voice. So why did all her instincts say Run?
With effort, she got to her feet.
The steps came closer.
“It’s okay,” Jason’s voice promised.
At the top of the stairs, a face appeared out of the darkness—a hideous black grin, a smashed nose, and a single bloodshot eye in the middle of his forehead.
“It’s fine,” the Cyclops said, in a perfect imitation of Jason’s voice. “You’re just in time for dinner. ”
LEO WISHED THE DRAGON HADN’T LANDED on the toilets.
Of all the places to crash, a line of Porta-Potties would not have been his first choice. A dozen of the blue plastic boxes had been set up in the factory yard, and Festus had flattened them all. Fortunately, they hadn’t been used in a long time, and the fireball from the crash incinerated most of the contents; but still, there were some pretty gross chemicals leaking out of the wreckage. Leo had to pick his way through and try not to breathe through his nose. Heavy snow was coming down, but the dragon’s hide was still steaming hot. Of course, that didn’t bother Leo.
After a few minutes climbing over Festus’s inanimate body, Leo started to get irritated. The dragon looked perfectly fine. Yes, it had fallen out of the sky and landed with a big ka-boom, but its body wasn’t even dented. The fireball had apparently come from built up gasses inside the toilet units, not from the dragon itself. Festus’s wings were intact. Nothing seemed broken. There was no reason it should have stopped.