Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, Percy Jackson is the property of Rick Riordan, and Jojo's Bizarre Adventure is the property of Hirohiko Araki. All other references to any other works are property of their respective owners; I don't own this in any way. Please don't sue me.

Chapter 4: That's not good

As soon as Jason saw the house, he knew he was a dead man.

"Here we are," Madara said in a warm tone. "The Big House, camp's headquarters." It didn't look threatening, just a four-story manor painted baby blue with white trim. The wraparound porch had lounge chairs, a card table, and an empty wheelchair. Wind chimes shaped like nymphs turned into trees as they spun. Jason could imagine older adults coming here for summer vacation, sitting on the porch and sipping prune juice while watching the sunset. Still, the windows seemed to glare down at him like angry eyes. The wide-open doorway looked ready to swallow him. On the highest roof, a bronze eagle weathervane spun in the wind and pointed straight in his direction, as if telling him to turn around. Every molecule in Jason's body told him he was on enemy ground.

"I am not supposed to be here," Jason said.

"Don't stress it," Madara waved it off, "that feeling will pass in time when Percy first got here, he had the same feeling."

"You are different than most."

"No shit Sherlock, for starters, I'm not a demigod, and secondly until recent events I've been dead for 15,000 years." Madara looked at Jason, his eyes red with tomoe in them, on instinct Jason shut his eyes and heard Madara laugh. "Good instincts, kid, always avoid the eyes of an Uchiha, but you don't need to fear I was simply observing you. I have no intention of unleashing their power on you yet."

"Yet?" Jason echoed as he opened his eyes, still making an effort to avoid eye contact with Madara.

"When I train you and your friends, I'll teach you how to resist genjutsu, among other things." Just then, Jason heard the sound of footsteps on the front porch. "Looks like you finally decided to wake up, eh you old horse bastard?" Madara laughed a bit, Jason backed up so fast he almost tripped. Rounding the corner of the porch was a man on horseback. Except he wasn't on horseback—he was part of the horse. From the waist up, he was human, with curly brown hair and a well-trimmed beard. He wore a T-shirt that said World's Best Centaur and had a quiver and bow strapped to his back. His head was so high up he had to duck to avoid the porch lights because from the waist down; he was a white stallion. Chiron started to smile at Jason. Then the color drained from his face.

"You …" The centaur's eyes flared like a cornered animal. "You should be dead." Madara frowned a bit.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Not you, Madara, the boy," Chiron replied, then he looked back at Jason. "Madara, I need a word with…"

"Jason." Jason supplied his name.

"Yes, Jason." Chiron smiled a bit. "Can you go….well wherever you go when you're not beating up my campers?"

"Sure, whatever." Madara replied, and he turned when he stopped in his tracks as he turned his head towards the cabins, and Jason turned to as he felt the flare of a powerful chakra. A few seconds later, a Demigod came running up to the three of them and paused while he looked at Madara.

"Madara." The boy began. "Annabeth wants to see you at cabin 6."

"Well, there goes that idea." Madara rolled his eyes, "we'll talk later, Jason, in the meantime, welcome to camp half-blood." Madara walked away with his hands in his pockets then vanished in a blur of speed.

"He's hard to read." Jason remarked.

"That's just how he always is," Chiron replied. "Now come with me, we have much to discuss." Chiron guided Jason into the big house, he slipped off his quiver and bow then back up into the wheelchair which opened like a magician's box. Chiron gingerly stepped into it with his back legs and began scrunching himself into a space that should've been much too small. Jason imagined a truck's reversing noises as the centaur's lower half disappeared. The chair folded up, popping out a set of fake human legs covered in a blanket, so Chiron appeared to be a regular mortal guy in a wheelchair. "Follow me," he ordered. "We have lemonade." The living room looked like a rainforest had swallowed it. Grapevines curved up the walls and across the ceiling, which Jason found a little strange. He didn't think plants grew like that inside, especially in the winter, but these were leafy green and bursting with bunches of red grapes. Leather couches faced a stone fireplace with a crackling fire. Wedged in one corner was an old-style Pac-Man arcade game beeped and blinked. Mounted on the walls was an assortment of masks—smiley/frowny Greek theater types, feathered Mardi Gras masks, Venetian Carnevale masks with big beaklike noses, carved wooden masks from Africa. Grapevines grew through their mouths, so they seemed to have leafy tongues; a few had red grapes bulging through their eyeholes. But the weirdest thing was the stuffed leopard's head above the fireplace. It looked so real, and its eyes seemed to follow Jason. Then it snarled, and Jason nearly leaped out of his skin. "Now, Seymour," Chiron chided. "Jason is a friend. Behave yourself."

"That thing is alive!" Jason said. Chiron rummaged through the side pocket of his wheelchair and brought out a package of Snausages. He threw one to the leopard, who snapped it up and licked his lips.

"You must excuse the décor," Chiron said. "All this was a parting gift from our old director before he was recalled to Mount Olympus. He thought it would help us to remember him. Mr. D has a strange sense of humor."

"Mr. D," Jason said. "Dionysus?"

"Mmm, hmm." Chiron poured lemonade, though his hands were trembling a little. "As for Seymour, well, Mr. D liberated him from a Long Island garage sale. The leopard is Mr. D's sacred animal, and Mr. D was appalled that someone would stuff such a noble creature. He decided to grant it life on the assumption that life as a mounted head was better than no life. I must say it's a kinder fate than Seymour's previous owner got." Seymour bared his fangs and sniffed the air as if hunting for more Snausages.

"If he's only a head," Jason said, "where does the food go when he eats?"

"Better not to ask," Chiron said. "Please, sit." Jason sat down and took some lemonade as Chiron sat in his wheelchair, he was smiling, but it was apparent to Jason it was forced. "So, Jason." Chiron started. "Would you mind telling me where you're from?"

"I wish I knew." Jason shook his head sadly then went into the whole series of the events, Chiron listened in silence nodding when needed, when Jason was done Chiron took a sip of lemonade.

"I see, but I have one more question."

"What?"

"Why do you have the Power Stone? Last I'd heard Krios held this stone."

"What is The Power Stone?" Chiron sighed, then pulled out a gold coin then rolled over to a crystal prism collection hanging by the closed window. Chiron opened the blinds and sunlight filtered into the room, as they hit the prisms they formed a rainbow, Chiron rubbed the coin.

"Let's hope she's in a good mood today." Chiron tossed the coin into the rainbow as he said, "O, Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering." the rainbow shimmered as the coin disappeared. "Show me the origin of the Six Infinity Stones." The rainbow transformed into an image of an explosion, and then five colored crystals were shown forming a ring. "As Percy Explained it to me once. 'The Big Bang sent 6 crystals hurdling across the virgin universe, these infinity stones control an essential aspect of existence, Space," The blue stone glowed then the glow faded, "Reality," the red stone followed the same pattern as the first, "Mind," the yellow stone glowed, "Soul," the orange glowed next, "Time," the green stone was the next to glow, "And finally, Power." The purple stone in Jason's necklace glowed, and like the others, the glow faded. "Each of these stones are dangerous on their own but insanely so when brought together."

"How dangerous are we talking?"

"If one were to gather all six stones, they would be capable of anything, even wiping out half the life of the universe." Chiron sighed. "As it stands at least three stones are in friendly hands, you are the keeper of the power stone, Percy is the keeper of the reality and time stones." Chiron smiled at Jason. "But I can tell you have questions for me."

"Just one," Jason looked at the centaur, "What did you mean when you said that I should be dead?" Chiron studied him with concern as if he expected Jason to burst into flames.

"My boy, do you know what those marks on your arm mean? The color of your shirt? Do you remember anything?" Jason looked at the tattoo on his forearm: SPQR, the eagle, twelve straight lines.

"No," he said. "Nothing."

"Do you know where you are?" Chiron asked. "Do you understand what this place is, and who I am?"

"You're Chiron, the centaur," Jason said. "I'm guessing you're the same one from the old stories, who used to train the Greek heroes like Hercules, and this is a camp for demigods, children of the Olympian gods."

"So you believe those gods still exist?"

"Yes," Jason said immediately. "I mean, I don't think we should worship them or sacrifice chickens to them or anything, but they're still around because they're a powerful part of civilization. They move from country to country as the center of power shifts—as they moved from Ancient Greece to Rome."

"I couldn't have said it better." Something about Chiron's voice had changed. "So you already know the gods are real. You have already been claimed, haven't you?"

"Maybe," Jason answered. "I'm not sure." Seymour the leopard snarled, Chiron waited, and Jason quickly put two and two together, Chiron had switched languages, and Jason understood him and responded automatically in the same tongue.

"Quis erat-" Jason stopped, then quickly made an effort to speak in English. "What was that?"

"You know Latin," Chiron observed. "Most demigods recognize a few phrases, of course. It's in their blood, but not as much as Ancient Greek. None can speak Latin fluently without practice." Jason tried to wrap his mind around what that meant, but too many pieces were missing from his memory. He still had the feeling that he shouldn't be here. It was wrong—and dangerous. But at least Chiron wasn't threatening. The centaur seemed concerned for him, afraid for his safety. The fire reflected in Chiron's eyes, making them dance fretfully. "I taught your namesake, you know, the original Jason. He had a hard path. I've seen many heroes come and go. Occasionally, they have happy endings. Mostly, they don't. It breaks my heart, like losing a child each time one of my pupils dies. But you—you are not like any pupil I've ever taught. Your presence here could be a disaster."

"Wow," A new voice spoke from behind them, and Jason leapt out of his seat, taking the same battle stance he took back at the Grand Canyon. As he turned to face the owner of this voice, Jason and Chiron's eyes widened as they saw Madara leaning against the wall. "talk about being an asshole." The Ghost of the Uchiha laughed.

"When did you-?" Chiron started.

"You can get out of that stance now, Jason, you're too young to dance with me." Madara started walking forward. "As for when I got here, just now." Jason and Chiron's eyes widened.

"How did I not sense him?" Jason thought as Madara walked towards the table and sat down.

"Probably wondering why you didn't sense my approach." Jason stepped back, and Madara smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not reading your mind, it's just written all over your face." Madara pulled out a kunai and started cutting an orange. "Don't mind me; please continue." Chiron sighed a bit and looked at Jason.

"I am sorry, my boy." Chiron continued. "But it is true; I had hoped that after Percy's success-"

"Percy Jackson, you mean Annabeth's boyfriend, the one who is missing?" Jason asked.

"And my disciple," Madara spoke as he plopped another slice of orange in his mouth. "as well as my younger brother in all but blood." Chiron nodded.

"I hoped that after he succeeded in the Titan War and saved Mount Olympus, we might have some peace. I might be able to enjoy one final triumph, a happy ending, and perhaps retire quietly. I should have known better. The last chapter approaches, just as it did before. The worst is yet to come." In the corner, the arcade game made a sad pew-pew-pew-pew sound, as if a Pac-Man had just died.

"Ohh-kay," Jason said. "So—the last chapter happened before, worst yet to come. Sounds fun, but can we go back to the part where I'm supposed to be dead? I don't like that part."

"I'm afraid I can't explain, my boy. I swore on the River Styx and on all things sacred that I would never …" Chiron frowned. "But you're here, in violation of the same oath. That, too, should not be possible. I don't understand. Who would've done such a thing? Who—" Seymour, the leopard howled. His mouth froze, half open. The arcade game stopped beeping. The fire stopped crackling, its flames hardening like red glass. The masks stared down silently at Jason with their grotesque grape eyes and leafy tongues.

"Chiron?" Jason asked. "What's going—" The old centaur had frozen, too. Jason jumped off the couch, but Chiron kept staring at the same spot, his mouth open mid-sentence. His eyes didn't blink. His chest didn't move.

"Jason," a voice said. For a horrible moment, he thought the leopard had spoken. Then dark mist boiled out of Seymour's mouth, and an even worse thought occurred to Jason: storm spirits. He grabbed the golden coin from his pocket. With a quick flip, it changed into a sword. The mist took the form of a woman in black robes. Her face was hooded, but her eyes glowed in the darkness. Over her shoulders, she wore a goatskin cloak. Jason wasn't sure how he knew it was goatskin, but he recognized it and knew it was important. "Would you attack your patron?" the woman chided. Her voice echoed in Jason's head. "Lower your sword."

"Who are you?" he demanded. "How did you—"

"Our time is limited, Jason. My prison grows stronger by the hour. It took me a full month to gather enough energy to work even the smallest magic through its bonds. I've managed to bring you here, but now I have little time left, and even less power, it's possible this may be the last time I can speak to you."

"You're in prison?" Jason decided maybe he wouldn't lower his sword. "Look, I don't know you, and you're not my patron."

"You know me," she insisted. "I have known you since your birth."

"I don't remember. I don't remember anything."

"No, you don't, she agreed. That also was necessary. Long ago, your father gave me your life as a gift to appease my anger. He named you Jason after my favorite mortal. You belong to me."

"Whoa," Jason said. "I don't belong to anyone."

"Now is the time to pay your debt," she said. Find my prison. "Free me or their king will rise from the earth, and I will be destroyed. You will never retrieve your memory."

"Is that a threat? You took my memories?"

"You have until sunset on the solstice, Jason. Four short days. Do not fail me." The dark woman dissolved, and the mist curled into the leopard's mouth. Time unfroze. Seymour's howl turned into a cough as he'd sucked in a hairball. The fire crackled to life, the arcade machine beeped, and Chiron said,

"—would dare to bring you here?"

"Probably the lady in the mist," Jason offered. Chiron looked up in surprise.

"Weren't you just sitting … why do you have a sword drawn?"

"I hate to tell you this," Jason said, "but I think your leopard just ate a goddess." He told Chiron about the frozen-in-time visit, the dark misty figure that disappeared into Seymour's mouth.

"Oh, dear," Chiron murmured. "That does explain a lot."

"Then why don't you explain a lot to me?" Jason said. "Please." Just then, Jason felt a spike of power, and he turned to the source as, in a swirl of blue fire, Annabeth appeared with Piper over her shoulder, and a few seconds later a red-headed girl arrived huffing and glaring at Annabeth.

"Y-you know…." the redhead spoke between gasps of air. "I cant….use the Teleportation...jutsu."

"Sorry," Annabeth apologized as she scratched the back of her head.

"What's wrong with Piper?!" Jason demanded, pointing his blade at Annabeth.

"She had a vision in Hera's cabin."

"I think …" The redheaded girl gulped. "I think I may have killed her."

"Who are you?" Jason asked as Annabeth, Madara, and Chiron placed Piper on the couch.

"My name is Rachael." Annabeth formed a cross seal with her hands.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu." Annabeth called as a clone of her popped into existence, and Annabeth looked at her clone. "You know what to do."

"Yes, ma'am." The clone replied then ran out Jason looked at Piper who was still breathing, but she wouldn't wake up. She seemed to be in some kind of coma.

"We've got to heal her," Jason insisted. "There's a way, right?" Seeing her so pale, barely breathing, Jason felt a surge of protectiveness. "Maybe I don't really know her, and maybe she isn't my girlfriend. But we'd survived the Grand Canyon together, and come all this way. I left her side for a little while, and this had happened."

"Don't blame yourself, Jason." A calm voice echoed in Jason's head. "This wasn't your fault."

"Who are you?"

"I'm hurt," The voice responded. "You forgot your mentor, did our years of training mean nothing to you."

"I can only remember my name!"

"Ahh, yes." The voice spoke. "Sorry, whatever or whoever took your memories missed me, but we will speak later, but don't fear my wife is no weakling."

"Your wife?"

"Jason!" Madara's voice snapping brought Jason out of his mental conversation with a voice he didn't recognize, just then the girl that was holding hands with Beckendorf walked in, and she looked quite annoyed.

"What is it, Annabeth?" She demanded,

"Calm down, Silena," Annabeth raised her hands in defense. "We just need your help." Annabeth pointed to Piper on the couch, Silena placed her hand on Piper's forehead and grimaced.

"Her mind is in a fragile state." Silena looked at Annabeth and Rachel. "Rachel, what happened?"

"I wish I knew," Rachel replied sadly. "As soon as I got to camp, I had a premonition about Hera's cabin. I went inside. Annabeth and Piper came in while I was there. We talked, and then—I just blanked out. Annabeth said I spoke in a different voice."

"A prophecy?" Chiron asked.

"No. The spirit of Delphi comes from within. I know how that feels. This was like long-distance, a power trying to speak through me."

"Chiron, what happened back there," Annabeth started. "I've never seen anything like it. I've heard Rachel's prophecy voice. This was different. She sounded like an older woman. She grabbed Piper's shoulders and told her—"

"To free her from prison?" Jason guessed. Annabeth stared at him.

"How did you know that?" Chiron made a three-fingered gesture over his heart, like a ward against evil.

"Jason, tell them." Chiron spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Annabeth," Silena spoke, "Get Chiron's medicine bag, please." Annabeth nodded and ran out, returning a few seconds later with a brown bag, Silena rummaged through the back, pulled out a vial and trickled drops from a medicine vial into Piper's mouth. At the same time, Jason explained what had happened when the room froze—the dark misty woman who had claimed to be Jason's patron. When he was done, no one spoke, which made him more anxious.

"So does this happen often?" he asked. "Supernatural phone calls from convicts demanding you bust them out of jail?"

"Your patron," Annabeth said. "Not your godly parent?"

"No, she definitely said patron. She also said my dad had given her my life." Annabeth frowned.

"I've never heard of anything like that before. You said the storm spirit on the skywalk—he claimed to be working for some mistress who was giving him orders, right? Could it be this woman you saw, messing with your mind?"

"I don't think so," Jason said. "If she were my enemy, why would she be asking for my help? She's imprisoned. She's worried about some enemy getting more powerful. Something about a king rising from the earth on the solstice—" Annabeth turned to Chiron.

"Not fucking Kronos again!" The centaur looked miserable. He held Piper's wrist, checking her pulse.

"No, it's not Kronos; his threat has ended, but..."

"But what?" Annabeth started tapping her foot, Madara placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head, Silena closed the medicine bag, and Chiron looked at Annabeth.

"Piper needs rest; we'll talk later."

"Or now," Jason said. "Sir, Mr. Chiron, you told me the greatest threat was coming. The last chapter. You can't possibly mean something worse than an army of Titans, right?"

"Oh," Rachel said in a small voice. "Oh, dear. The woman was Hera. Of course. Her cabin, her voice. She showed herself to Jason at the same moment."

"Hera Koroleva such'yev!?" (The Queen of Cunts?!) Annabeth's snarl was even fiercer than Seymour's.

"Language!" Madara snapped, and Annabeth looked at Madara, shocked.

"You know Russian?"

"I'm not fluent, but I know what you just said."

"Can someone clue us in on what she just said?" Silena asked.

"I'm not translating that." Chiron and Madara spoke simultaneously

"I think Rachel's right," Jason said, bringing everyone back on topic. "The woman did seem like a goddess. And she wore this—this goatskin cloak. That's a symbol of Juno, isn't it?"

"It is?" Annabeth scowled. "I've never heard that." Chiron nodded reluctantly. "Of Juno, Hera's Roman aspect, in her most warlike state. The goatskin cloak was a symbol of the Roman soldier."

"So, Hera is imprisoned?" Rachel asked. "Who could do that to the queen of the gods?" Annabeth crossed her arms.

"Nu, kem by oni ni byli, mozhet byt', my dolzhny poblagodarit' ikh. Yesli oni mogut zatknut'sya Gera …" (Well, whoever they are, maybe we should thank them. If they can shut up Hera—)

"Annabeth," Chiron warned, "she is still one of the Olympians. In many ways, she is the glue that holds the gods' family together. If she truly has been imprisoned and is in danger of destruction, this could shake the foundations of the world. It could unravel the stability of Olympus, which is never great even in the best of times. And if Hera has asked Jason for help, also please speak English."

"Fine," Annabeth grumbled. "Well, we know Titans can capture a god, right? Atlas captured Artemis a few years ago. And in the old stories, the gods captured each other in traps all the time. But something worse than a Titan…?" Jason looked at the leopard's head. Seymour was smacking his lips like the goddess had tasted much better than a sausage.

"Hera said she'd been trying to break through her prison bonds for a month."

"Which is how long Olympus has been closed," Annabeth said. "So, the gods must know something bad is going on."

"But why use her energy to send me here?" Jason asked. "She wiped my memory, plopped me into the Wilderness School field trip, and sent you a dream vision to come pick me up. Why am I so important? Why not just send up an emergency flare to the other gods—let them know where she is so they bust her out?"

"The gods need heroes to do their will down here on earth," Rachel said. "That's right, isn't it? Their fates are always intertwined with demigods."

"That's true," Annabeth said, "but Jason has a point. Why him? Why take his memory?"

"And Piper's involved somehow," Rachel said. "Hera sent her the same message—Free me. And, Annabeth, this must have something to do with Percy's disappearing." Annabeth fixed her eyes on Chiron.

"Why are you so quiet, Chiron? What is it we're facing?" The old centaur's face looked like it had aged ten years in a matter of minutes. The lines around his eyes were deeply etched.

"My dear," Chiron spoke his voice heavy. "in this, I cannot help you. I am so sorry." Annabeth blinked.

"You've never … you've never kept information from me. Even the last great prophecy—"

"I will be in my office." His voice was heavy. "I need some time to think before dinner. Rachel, will you watch the girl? Call Argus to bring her to the infirmary, if you'd like. And Annabeth, you should speak with Jason. Tell him about—about the Greek and Roman gods."

"But …"

"Do as he says, Annabeth." Madara spoke, "in the meantime, you and I are going to talk, old man."

"Old man?!" Chiron snapped as he looked at the Uchiha. "If I recall correctly, you're 12,000 years older than me!"

"Yes, but the difference is I don't look it." With that, Madara and Chiron walked and wheeled off down the hallway, and Annabeth muttered something in Russian, and Jason got the feeling it wasn't complimentary toward centaurs.

"I'm sorry," Jason started, "I think my being here, I don't know. I think I've messed things up by coming to this camp, somehow. Chiron mentioned that he'd swore an oath and couldn't talk about it." Annabeth looked at Jason, and her face hardened.

"What Oath?" Annabeth demanded. "I've never seen him act like this, and why would he ask me to tell you about the gods…." Annabeth looks at the table and saw Jason's sword on the table; she touched it gently as if she was afraid the blade would burn her. "Is this gold?" Annabeth looked back at Jason. "Do you remember where you got this?"

"No," Jason shook his head. "I can only remember my name.." Annabeth nodded like she'd come up with a plan.

"If Chiron won't help us and Madara is being, well Madara, we'll need to figure things out ourselves, which means….cabin 15, Rachel, Silena can the two of you keep an eye on Piper here?"

"Sure," Rachel replied, "I'm sure Sliena and I will be happy to help, good luck you two."

"Now hang on," Silena piped up, "don't go putting words in my mouth."

"Silena," Annabeth spoke as she looked at the girl. "You're our camp's most trusted medic, taught by Tsunade Senju herself if there is anyone I trust to watch over Piper, it's you." Annabeth looked at Jason. "In the meantime, you are coming with me to cabin 15."

"Hold on," Jason said. "What's in Cabin Fifteen?" Annabeth started walking.

"Maybe a way to get your memory back." They headed toward a newer wing of cabins in the southwest corner of the green. Some were fancy, with glowing walls or blazing torches, but Cabin Fifteen was not so dramatic. It looked like an old-fashioned prairie house with mud walls and a rush roof. On the door hung a wreath of crimson flowers—red poppies, Jason thought, though he wasn't sure how he knew.

"You think this is my parent's cabin?" he asked.

"No," Annabeth said. "This is the cabin for Hypnos, the god of sleep."

"Then why—"

"You've forgotten everything," she said. "If there's any god who can help us figure out memory loss, it's Hypnos." Inside, even though it was almost dinnertime, three kids were sound asleep under piles of covers. A warm fire crackled in the hearth. Above the mantel hung a tree branch, each twig dripping white liquid into a collection of tin bowls. Jason was tempted to catch a drop on his finger just to see what it was, but he held himself back. Soft violin music played from somewhere. The air smelled like fresh laundry. The cabin was so cozy and peaceful that Jason's eyelids started to feel heavy. A nap sounded like a great idea. He was exhausted. There were plenty of empty beds, all with feather pillows and fresh sheets and fluffy quilts and a sharp pain shot through Jason's foot, and he looked down to see Annabeth's foot on top of his. "Snap out of it." Annabeth smiled a bit. "Cabin 15 does that to everyone, if you ask me, this is the second most dangerous cabin in the entire camp."

"What's the most dangerous?"

"Cabin 3."

"Which is?"

"Poseidon."

"Why would Neptune's cabin be the most dangerous?" Annabeth looked Jason dead in the face.

"Because Percy is not a morning person." Annabeth walked over to the nearest snoring kid and shook his shoulder. "Clovis! Wake up!" The kid looked like a baby cow. He had a blond tuft of hair on a wedge-shaped head, with full features and a thick neck. His body was stocky, but he had spindly little arms as he'd never lifted anything heavier than a pillow. "Clovis!" Annabeth shook harder then got an evil smile, and she started weaving hand signs, even though Jason had no idea how he knew they were hand signs. "Water style: Arctic-!."

"I'M UP, I'M UP, I'M UP!" Clovis shouted as he leapt out of bed and clung to the ceiling.

"What was jutsu you were going to use?" Jason asked.

"A technique Percy helped be to develop," Annabeth replied with a sickly sweet smile on her face. "By adding wind and water chakra in both hands I can create a river of freezing water; we use it when the members of cabin 15 don't want to help." Clovis dropped down from the ceiling and looked at Annabeth.

"I was sleeping." Clovis complained.

"You're always sleeping." Annabeth countered.

"Good night." Clovis started to collapse on his bed again, but before he could pass out, Annabeth clapped her hands.

"Mini Arctic river!" water was pulled from the air around them and blasted Clovis.

"COLD!" Clovis shrieked as he stared at Annabeth.

"Help us first; then you can go back to sleep." Clovis sighed. His breath smelled like warm milk.

"Fine. What?" Annabeth explained Jason's problem, but ever so often she'd blast Clovis with cold water to keep him conscious, Clovis must have been excited because when Annabeth was done, he didn't pass out. He stood and stretched, then blinked at Jason. "So you don't remember anything, huh?"

"Just impressions." Jason replied, "feelings like…"

"Yes?" Clovis asked.

"Like I shouldn't be here, and I get the strongest sense that I'm in danger."

"Hmmm. close your eyes." Jason glanced at Annabeth, who nodded. Jason was afraid he'd end up snoring in one of the bunks forever, but he closed his eyes. His thoughts became murky as if he were sinking into a dark lake. The next thing Jason knew, his eyes snapped open. He was sitting in a chair by the fire. Clovis and Annabeth knelt next to him. "—serious, all right," Clovis was saying.

"What happened?" Jason said. "How long—"

"Just a few minutes," Annabeth said. "But it was tense. You almost dissolved." Jason hoped she didn't mean literally, but her expression was solemn.

"Usually," Clovis said, "memories are lost for a good reason. They sink under the surface like dreams, and with a night of good sleep, I can bring them back. But this …"

"Lethe?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Clovis said. "Not even Lethe."

"Lethe?" Jason asked. Clovis pointed to the tree branch dripping milky drops above the fireplace.

"The River Lethe in the Underworld. It dissolves your memories, wipes your mind clean permanently. That's the branch of a poplar tree from the Underworld, dipped into the Lethe. It's the symbol of my father, Hypnos. Lethe is not a place you want to go swimming." Annabeth nodded.

"Percy went there once. He told me it was powerful enough to wipe the mind of a Titan." Jason was suddenly glad he hadn't touched the branch.

"But … that's not my problem?"

"No," Clovis agreed. "Your mind isn't wiped, and your memories aren't buried. They've been stolen." The fire crackled. Drops of Lethe water plinked into the tin cups on the mantel. One of the other Hypnos campers muttered in his sleep—something about a duck.

"Stolen," Jason said. "How?"

"A god," Clovis said. "Only a god would have that kind of power."

"We know that," said Jason. "It was Juno. But how did she do it, and why?" Clovis scratched his neck.

"Juno?"

"He means Hera," Annabeth said. "For some reason, Jason likes the Roman names."

"Hmm," Clovis said.

"What?" Jason asked. "Does that mean something?"

"Hmm," Clovis said again, and this time Jason realized he was snoring.

"Clovis!" he yelled.

"What? What?" His eyes fluttered open. "We were talking about pillows, right? No, gods. I remember. Greek and Roman. Sure, it could be important."

"But they're the same gods," Annabeth said. "Just different names."

"Not exactly," Clovis said. Jason sat forward, now very much awake.

"What do you mean, not exactly?"

"Well …" Clovis yawned. "Some gods are only Roman. Like Janus, or Pompona. But even the major Greek gods—it's not just their names that changed when they moved to Rome. Their appearances changed. Their attributes changed. They even had slightly different personalities."

"But …" Annabeth faltered. "Okay, so maybe people saw them differently through the centuries. That doesn't change who they are."

"Sure it does." Clovis began to nod off, and Jason snapped his fingers under his nose.

"Coming, Mother!" he yelped. "I mean … Yeah, I'm awake. So, um, personalities. The gods change to reflect their host cultures. You know that, Annabeth. These days, Zeus likes tailored suits, reality television, and that Chinese food place on East Twenty-eighth Street, right? It was the same in Roman times, and the gods were Roman almost as long as they were Greek. It was a big empire, which lasted for centuries. So, of course, their Roman aspects are still a big part of their character."

"Makes sense," Jason said. Annabeth shook her head, mystified.

"But how do you know all this, Clovis?"

"Oh, I spend a lot of time dreaming. I see the gods there all the time—always shifting forms. Dreams are fluid, you know. You can be in different places at once, always changing identities. It's a lot like being a god. Like recently, I dreamed I was watching a Michael Jackson concert, and then I was on stage with Michael Jackson, and we were singing this duet, and I could not remember the words for 'The Girl Is Mine.' Oh, man, it was so embarrassing, I—"

"Clovis," Annabeth interrupted. "Back to Rome?"

"Right, Rome," Clovis said. "So we call the gods by their Greek names because that's their original form. But saying their Roman aspects are the same—that's not true. In Rome, they became more warlike. They didn't mingle with mortals as much. They were harsher, more powerful—the gods of an empire."

"Like the dark side of the gods?" Annabeth asked.

"Not exactly," Clovis said. "They stood for discipline, honor, strength—"

"Good things, then," Jason said. For some reason, he felt the need to speak up for the Roman gods, though he wasn't sure why it mattered. "I mean, discipline is important, right? That's what made Rome last so long." Clovis gave him a curious look.

"That's true. But the Roman gods weren't very friendly. For instance, my dad, Hypnos he didn't do much except sleep in Greek times. In Roman times, they called him Somnus. He liked killing people who didn't stay alert at their jobs. If they nodded off at the wrong time, boom—they never woke up. He killed the helmsman of Aeneas when they were sailing from Troy."

"Nice guy," Annabeth said. "But I still don't understand what it has to do with Jason."

"Neither do I," Clovis said. "But if Hera took your memory, only she can give it back. And if I had to meet the queen of the gods, I'd hope she was more in a Hera mood than a Juno mood. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Thanks, Clovis. We'll see you at dinner."

"Can I get room service?" Clovis yawned and stumbled to his bunk. "I feel like … zzzz …" He collapsed with his butt in the air and his face buried in the pillow.

"Won't he suffocate?" Jason asked.

"He'll be fine," Annabeth said. "But, I'm beginning to think that you are in serious trouble." As they walked out, Annabeth had an analytical look on her face as if her mind was running at a million miles an hour, but for the life of her, she couldn't answer the question. "I need to speak with Madara; in the meantime, feel free to explore the camp; just don't' leave the borders." Annabeth held up her hand and disappeared in a swirl of blue fire, leaving Jason standing there quite confused.