The Lost Hero (The Heroes of Olympus #1)(53)

“Destroy them later?” Cal offered, which was probably as close to friendly as he ever got.

“It will take some explaining,” Zethes decided. “Father has not been kind to visitors lately. But, yes. Come, faulty dragon people. Follow us.”

The Boreads sheathed their swords and pulled smaller weapons from their belts—or at least Leo thought they were weapons. Then the Boreads switched them on, and Leo realized they were flashlights with orange cones, like the ones traffic controller guys use on a runway. Cal and Zethes turned and swooped toward the hotel’s tower.

Leo turned to his friends. “I love these guys. Follow them?”

Jason and Piper didn’t look eager.

“I guess,” Jason decided. “We’re here now. But I wonder why Boreas hasn’t been kind to visitors.”

“Pfft, he just hasn’t met us.” Leo whistled. “Festus, after those flashlights!”

As they got closer, Leo worried they’d crash into the tower. The Boreads made right for the green gabled peak and didn’t slow down. Then a section of the slanted roof slid open, revealing an entrance easily wide enough for Festus. The top and bottom were lined with icicles like jagged teeth.

“This cannot be good,” Jason muttered, but Leo spurred the dragon downward, and they swooped in after the Boreads.

They landed in what must have been the penthouse suite; but the place had been hit by a flash freeze. The entry hall had vaulted ceilings forty feet high, huge draped windows, and lush oriental carpets. A staircase at the back of the room led up to another equally massive hall, and more corridors branched off to the left and right. But the ice made the room’s beauty a little frightening. When Leo slid off the dragon, the carpet crunched under his feet. A fine layer of frost covered the furniture. The curtains didn’t budge because they were frozen solid, and the ice-coated windows let in weird watery light from the sunset. Even the ceiling was furry with icicles. As for the stairs, Leo was sure he’d slip and break his neck if he tried to climb them.

“Guys,” Leo said, “fix the thermostat in here, and I would totally move in.”

“Not me.” Jason looked uneasily at the staircase. “Something feels wrong. Something up there …”

Festus shuddered and snorted flames. Frost started to form on his scales.

“No, no, no.” Zethes marched over, though how he could walk in those pointy leather shoes, Leo had no idea. “The dragon must be deactivated. We can’t have fire in here. The heat ruins my hair.”

Festus growled and spun his drill-bit teeth.

“’S’okay, boy.” Leo turned to Zethes. “The dragon’s a little touchy about the whole deactivation concept. But I’ve got a better solution.”

“Destroy?” Cal suggested.

“No, man. You gotta stop with the destroy talk. Just wait.”

“Leo,” Piper said nervously, “what are you—”

“Watch and learn, beauty queen. When I was repairing Festus last night, I found all kinds of buttons. Some, you do not want to know what they do. But others … Ah, here we go.”

Leo hooked his fingers behind the dragon’s left foreleg. He pulled a switch, and the dragon shuddered from head to toe. Everyone backed away as Festus folded like origami. His bronze plating stacked together. His neck and tail contracted into his body. His wings collapsed and his trunk compacted until he was a rectangular metal wedge the size of a suitcase.

Leo tried to lift it, but the thing weighed about six billion pounds. “Um … yeah. Hold on. I think—aha.”

He pushed another button. A handle flipped up on the top, and wheels clicked out on the bottom.

“Ta-da!” he announced. “The world’s heaviest carry-on bag!”

“That’s impossible,” Jason said. “Something that big couldn’t—”

“Stop!” Zethes ordered. He and Cal both drew their swords and glared at Leo.

Leo raised his hands. “Okay … what’d I do? Stay calm, guys. If it bothers you that much, I don’t have to take the dragon as carry-on—”

“Who are you?” Zethes shoved the point of his sword against Leo’s chest. “A child of the South Wind, spying on us?”

“What? No!” Leo said. “Son of Hephaestus. Friendly blacksmith, no harm to anyone!”

Cal growled. He put his face up to Leo’s, and he definitely wasn’t any prettier at point-blank, with his bruised eyes and bashed-in mouth. “Smell fire,” he said. “Fire is bad.”

“Oh.” Leo’s heart raced. “Yeah, well … my clothes are kind of singed, and I’ve been working with oil, and—”

“No!” Zethes pushed Leo back at sword point. “We can smell fire, demigod. We assumed it was from the creaky dragon, but now the dragon is a suitcase. And I still smell fire … on you.”

If it hadn’t been like three degrees in the penthouse, Leo would’ve started sweating. “Hey … look … I don’t know—” He glanced at his friends desperately. “Guys, a little help?”

Jason already had his gold coin in his hand. He stepped forward, his eyes on Zethes. “Look, there’s been a mistake. Leo isn’t a fire guy. Tell them, Leo. Tell them you’re not a fire guy.”