The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4)

storm cloud. The armrests sizzled where moisture met fire. It didn’t look very comfortable, but the god Auster lounged on it like he was ready for an easy afternoon of watching football.
    Standing up, he would have been about ten feet tall. A crown of steam wreathed his shaggy white hair. His beard was made of clouds, constantly popping with lightning and raining down on the god’s chest, soaking his sand-coloured toga. Jason wondered if you could shave a thundercloud beard. He thought it might be annoying to rain on yourself all the time, but Auster didn’t seem to care. He reminded Jason of a soggy Santa Claus, but more lazy than jolly.
    ‘So …’ The god’s voice rumbled like an oncoming front. ‘The son of Jupiter returns.’
    Auster made it sound like Jason was late. Jason was tempted to remind the stupid wind god that he had spent hours outside every day waiting to be called, but he just bowed.
    ‘My lord,’ he said. ‘Have you received any news of my friend?’
    ‘Friend?’
    ‘Leo Valdez.’ Jason tried to stay patient. ‘The one who was taken by the winds.’
    ‘Oh … yes. Or rather, no. We have had no word. He was not taken by
my
winds. No doubt this was the work of Boreas or his spawn.’
    ‘Uh, yes. We knew that.’
    ‘That is the only reason I took you in, of course.’ Auster’seyebrows rose into his wreath of steam. ‘Boreas must be opposed! The north winds must be driven back!’
    ‘Yes, my lord. But to oppose Boreas we really need to get our ship out of the harbour.’
    ‘Ship in the harbour!’ The god leaned back and chuckled, rain pouring out of his beard. ‘You know the
last
time mortal ships came into my harbour? A king of Libya … Psyollos was his name. He blamed
me
for the scorching winds that burned his crops. Can you believe it?’
    Jason gritted his teeth. He’d learned that Auster couldn’t be rushed. In his rainy form, he was sluggish and warm and random.
    ‘And did you burn those crops, my lord?’
    ‘Of course!’ Auster smiled good-naturedly. ‘But what did Psyollos expect, planting crops at the edge of the Sahara? The fool launched his entire fleet against me. He intended to destroy my stronghold so the south wind could never blow again. I destroyed his fleet, of course.’
    ‘Of course.’
    Auster narrowed his eyes. ‘You aren’t with Psyollos, are you?’
    ‘No, Lord Auster. I’m Jason Grace, son of –’
    ‘Jupiter! Yes, of course. I like sons of Jupiter. But why are you still in my harbour?’
    Jason suppressed a sigh. ‘We don’t have your permission to leave, my lord. Also, our ship is damaged. We need our mechanic, Leo Valdez, to repair the engine, unless you know of another way.’
    ‘Hmm.’ Auster held up his fingers and let a dust devilswirl between them like a baton. ‘You know, people accuse me of being fickle. Some days I am the scorching wind, the destroyer of crops, the sirocco from Africa! Other days I am gentle, heralding the warm summer rains and cooling fogs of the southern Mediterranean. And in the off-season I have a lovely place in Cancun! At any rate, in ancient times, mortals both feared me and loved me. For a god, unpredictability can be a strength.’
    ‘Then you are truly strong,’ Jason said.
    ‘Thank you! Yes! But the same is not true of demigods.’ Auster leaned forward, close enough so that Jason could smell rain-soaked fields and hot sandy beaches. ‘You remind me of my own children, Jason Grace. You have blown from place to place. You are undecided. You change day to day. If you could turn the wind sock, which way would it blow?’
    Sweat trickled between Jason’s shoulder blades. ‘Excuse me?’
    ‘You say you need a navigator. You need my permission. I say you need neither. It is time to choose a direction. A wind that blows aimlessly is of no use to anyone.’
    ‘I don’t … I don’t understand.’
    Even as he said it, he
did
understand. Nico had talked about not belonging anywhere. At least Nico was free of attachments. He could go wherever he chose.
    For months, Jason had been wrestling with the question of where he belonged. He’d always chafed against the traditions of Camp Jupiter, the power plays, the infighting. But Reyna was a good person. She needed his help. If he turned his back on her … someone like Octavian could take over and ruineverything Jason
did
love about New Rome. Could he be so selfish as to leave? The very idea crushed him with guilt.
    But in his heart