I don't own this . Enjoy
AS SOON AS JASON SAW THE HOUSE, he knew he was a dead man.
"What is wrong with the big house?" asked Sally. "Is it because . . . oh, I see. He's Roman so being in a Greek camp feels like he is in enemy territory. It's his instincts."
Beryl sighed, relieved. "Good. I would hate for him to be an actual dead man."
"Here we are!" Drew said cheerfully. "The Big House, camp 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 old people coming here for summer vacation, sitting on the porch and sipping prune juice while they watched 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 gable, 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.
"We've already established that he thinks he is." Sally said.
"I am not supposed to be here," he said.
Drew circled her arm through his. "Oh, please. You're perfect here, sweetie. Believe me, I've seen a lot of heroes."
Drew smelled like Christmas—a strange combination of pine and nutmeg. Jason wondered if she always smelled like that, or if it was some kind of special perfume for the holidays. Her pink eyeliner was really distracting. Every time she blinked, he felt compelled to look at her. Maybe that was the point, to show off her warm brown eyes. She was pretty. No doubt about that. But she made Jason feel uncomfortable.
He slipped his arm away as gently as he could. "Look, I appreciate—"
"Is it that girl?" Drew pouted. "Oh, please, tell me you are not dating the Dumpster Queen."
Tristan's eye twitched.
"You mean Piper? Um …"
Jason wasn't sure how to answer. He didn't think he'd ever seen Piper before today, but he felt strangely guilty about it. He knew he shouldn't be in this place. He shouldn't befriend these people, and certainly he shouldn't date one of them. Still … Piper had been holding his hand when he woke up on that bus. She believed she was his girlfriend. She'd been brave on the skywalk, fighting those venti, and when Jason had caught her in midair and they'd held each other face-to-face, he couldn't pretend he wasn't a little tempted to kiss her.
Tristan growled softly. He muttered things under his breath.
But that wasn't right. He didn't even know his own story. He couldn't play with her emotions like that.
"Good. Good Jason." Tristan said calmly.
"I think he's about to lose it." Apollo whispered to Hermes.
Drew rolled her eyes. "Let me help you decide, sweetie. You can do better. A guy with your looks and obvious talent?"
She wasn't looking at him, though. She was staring at a spot right above his head.
"You're waiting for a sign," he guessed. "Like what popped over Leo's head."
"What? No! Well … yes. I mean, from what I heard, you're pretty powerful, right? You're going to be important at camp, so I figure your parent will claim you right away. And I'd love to see that. I wanna be with you every step of the way! So is your dad or mom the god? Please tell me it's not your mom. I would hate it if you were an Aphrodite kid."
"Why?"
"Yeah? Why is that?" Queen Marie asked. "Aren't they all related?"
"It explains here." Dr. Chase said.
"Then you'd be my half brother, silly. You can't date somebody from your own cabin. Yuck!"
"But aren't all the gods related?" Jason asked. "So isn't everyone here your cousin or something?"
"Aren't you cute! Sweetie, the godly side of your family doesn't count except for your parent. So anybody from another cabin—they're fair game. So who's your godly parent—mom or dad?"
"Oh." Queen Marie said.
As usual, Jason didn't have an answer. He looked up, but no glowing sign popped above his head. At the top of the Big House, the weathervane was still pointing his direction, that bronze eagle glaring as if to say, Turn around, kid, while you still can.
Then he heard footsteps on the front porch. No—not footsteps—hooves.
"Chiron!" Drew called. "This is Jason. He's totally awesome!"
"That's the best she could come up with?" asked Beryl incredulously. "'He's totally awesome.'" She mimicked.
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's. "You should be dead."
Chiron ordered Jason—well, invited, but it sounded like an order—to come inside the house. He told Drew to go back to her cabin, which Drew didn't look happy about.
The centaur trotted over to the empty wheelchair on the porch. He slipped off his quiver and bow and backed up to the chair, 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—beep, beep, beep—
The mortals raised an eyebrow while the gods snickered.
"Definitely hereditary." Hermes agreed. Then yelped as he also was hit and doused with lightning and water respectively.
as the centaur's lower half disappeared and 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 it had been swallowed by a rain forest. 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, 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. Some had red grapes bulging through their eyeholes.
The mortals looked weirded out while the gods looked on calmly.
"Uh . . . is that normal?" asked Maria.
"Not at all. No." was her response from Ares.
"It was a parting gift from Dionysus." Athena explained.
"Oh. Okay." She said.
But the weirdest thing was the stuffed leopard's head above the fireplace. It looked so real, 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."
"I do not." Dionysus said.
"Yeah, D, you kinda do." Apollo said.
Dionysus huffed.
"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, you see, 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 at all. I must say it's a kinder fate than Seymour's previous owner got."
Dionysus smirked. "Much kinder."
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,"
"Yeah, please don't ask." The gods shuddered.
Chiron said. "Please, sit."
Jason took some lemonade, though his stomach was fluttering. Chiron sat back in his wheelchair and tried for a smile, but Jason could tell it was forced. The old man's eyes were as deep and dark as wells.
"So, Jason," he said, "would you mind telling me—ah—where you're from?"
"I wish I knew." Jason told him the whole story, from waking up on the bus to crash-landing at Camp Half-Blood. He didn't see any point in hiding the details, and Chiron was a good listener. He didn't react to the story, other than to nod encouragingly for more.
When Jason was done, the old man sipped his lemonade.
"I see," Chiron said. "And you must have questions for me."
"Only one," Jason admitted. "What did you mean when you said that I should be dead?"
"We also would like to know." Beryl muttered.
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 Heracles. 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—like they moved from Ancient Greece to Rome."
"I couldn't have said it better." Something about Chiron's voice had changed.
"How could his voice change?" asked Beryl, worried.
"You'll see." Was her reply.
"I'm starting to hate those words." Beryl muttered.
"So you already know the gods are real. You have already been claimed, haven't you?"
"Maybe," Jason answered. "I'm not really sure."
Seymour the leopard snarled.
Chiron waited, and Jason realized what had just happened. The centaur had switched to another language and Jason had understood, automatically answering in the same tongue.
"I can't read Latin." Frederick said. "I think that's Latin."
"Let me see." Hermes said.
Frederick gave him the book. "Oh, it's simple. It says:
"Quis erat—"
"Thank you." Frederick said taking back the book.
"No problem." Hermes said as he sat back in his throne.
Jason faltered, then made a conscious effort to speak 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. In fact the centaur seemed concerned for him, afraid for his safety.
The gods breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone else but Chiron was there, Jason would've been dead. Killed by the Greeks. There would've been a massive war.
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."
"Thanks," Jason said. "You must be an inspiring teacher."
"I am sorry, my boy. But it's true. I had hoped that after Percy's success—"
"Percy Jackson, you mean. Annabeth's boyfriend, the one who's missing."
Sally gave a slight tremble.
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, like a Pac-Man had just died.
"Great timing, D." Apollo said.
Dionysus snorted. "I had nothing to do with that. Like I would watch that dreadful camp after I'm gone."
"Yeah, sure." Apollo muttered nervously, after seeing Mr. D's glare.
"Ohh-kay," Jason said. "So—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 don't like it either." Beryl mumbled.
"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.
"Creepy." Murmured Tristan.
"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.
"Hera/Juno." Hissed several people.
Hera's form flickered for a minute.
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. 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 placate my anger. He named you Jason, after my favorite mortal. You belong to me.
Beryl hissed and muttered things under her breath. None of them flattering towards the Queen of the Gods.
"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 like he'd sucked in a hair ball. 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."
Apollo and Hermes snickered.
Hera glared at them.
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."
Before Chiron could say anything, footsteps reverberated on the porch outside. The front door blew open, and Annabeth and another girl, a redhead, burst in, dragging Piper between them. Piper's head lolled like she was unconscious.
Tristan gasped. "Piper."
"She'll be fine." Aphrodite consoled.
"What happened?" Jason rushed over. "What's wrong with her?"
"Hera's cabin," Annabeth gasped, like they'd run all the way. "Vision. Bad."
The redheaded girl looked up, and Jason saw that she'd been crying.
"I think …" The redheaded girl gulped. "I think I may have killed her."
"Done." Frederick said.
"Good. I'm starving." Apollo waved his hand a feast appeared before the mortals. "We have to go do things, so enjoy and we'll be back here in an hour."
The gods got off their thrones, one by one, and left the room.
Sally started towards the food, followed by all of the others.
After they were done eating, Frederick caught up to Sally. "My daughter," He asked. "Does she ever come home?" He looked hopeful, but at the same time discouraged.
"Yes." Sally said. "But only for short visits. Percy was the one actually to get her to talk to you."
Frederick looked happy, well, happier. "Thank you. Maybe your son isn't all that bad."
Sally smiled. "You're welcome."
The others paired up in groups and got to know each other.
When the hour was up the gods trickled back in.
"Who'll read now?" asked Zeus.
"I will." Said Athena. "Chapter 8 Jason."
JASON AND THE REDHEAD, WHO INTRODUCED herself as Rachel, put Piper on the couch while Annabeth rushed down the hall to get a med kit. Piper was still breathing, but she wouldn't wake up. She seemed to be in some kind of coma.
Tristan looked really worried. "Shouldn't they get her to the hospital or something?"
The gods looked at him weird. "We give the demigods some of our food. In small amounts, it heals them. If they take too much they can die. Mortals who eat it, die instantly, no matter how small of a bite they get." Athena explained. "Now, can I read or,"
"Read, daughter." Zeus said.
"Okay."
"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 he didn't really know her. Maybe she wasn't his girlfriend. But they'd survived the Grand Canyon together. They'd come all this way. He'd left her side for a little while, and this had happened.
Chiron put his hand on her forehead and grimaced. "Her mind is in a fragile state. Rachel, what happened?"
"I wish I knew," she said. "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."
Apollo glared at Hera. "Don't touch my oracle again." He said.
Hera sniffed. "I needed help. She was the only available option for getting that help."
"Oh, yeah. Well, next time, find another way! You could've killed her." Apollo glared even more harder at her. "Don't touch my oracle!"
"Apollo, you can yell at her later. We kind of have a story to read." Artemis said.
"Fine." Apollo said huffily. "Thena."
Athena as about to yell back at him to not call her Thena, but she noticed Artemis look. She nodded and continued to read.
Annabeth ran in with a leather pouch. She knelt next to Piper. "Chiron, what happened back there—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 a 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. Annabeth, the medicine bag, please."
Chiron trickled drops from a medicine vial into Piper's mouth while 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?"
Hermes busted out laughing. Apollo let out a slight smirk.
"Your patron," Annabeth said. "Not your godly parent?"
"No, she said patron. She also said my dad had given her my life."
Beryl muttered under her breath.
Annabeth frowned. "I've never of heard 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 Kronos. Please tell me it's not that."
The centaur looked miserable. He held Piper's wrist, checking her pulse.
At last he said, "It is not Kronos. That threat is ended. But …"
"But what?" Annabeth asked.
Chiron closed the medicine bag. "Piper needs rest. We should discuss this 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?" Annabeth's snarl was even fiercer than Seymour's.
Hera muttered death threats under her breath.
"She took you over? She did this to Piper?"
"I think Rachel's right," Jason said. "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?"
"Someone we should thank." Apollo muttered.
Annabeth crossed her arms. "Well, whoever they are, maybe we should thank them. If they can shut up Hera—"
Apollo laughed, darkly.
"Annabeth," Chiron warned, "she is still one of the Olympians. In many ways, she is the glue that holds the gods' family together.
Apollo sighed. "Then there's that." He said softly.
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—"
"Fine," Annabeth grumbled. "Well, we know Titans can capture a god, right? Atlas captured Artemis a few years ago.
Apollo glared again.
And in the old stories, the gods captured each other in traps all the time.
Ares and Aphrodite flinched.
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 Snausage.
Hera huffed. Apollo and Hermes snickered.
"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's got a point. Why him? Why take his memory?"
"So he doesn't go full Roman soldier on your butts and kill you all." Hermes said sarcastically.
"Hermes." Zeus said warningly.
"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, 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—"
"Last great prophecy?" asked Emily.
The question was waved away. "The first book series." was her answer given by Apollo.
"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 …"
The centaur turned his wheelchair and rolled off down the hallway. Annabeth's eyes turned stormy. She muttered something in Greek, and Jason got the feeling it wasn't complimentary toward centaurs.
"Annabeth Chase." Athena and Frederick scolded.
"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I think my being here—I don't know. I've messed things up coming to the camp, somehow. Chiron said he'd sworn an oath and couldn't talk about it."
"What oath?" Annabeth demanded. "I've never seen him act this way. And why would he tell me to talk to you about the gods..."
Her voice trailed off. Apparently she'd just noticed Jason's sword sitting on the coffee table. She touched the blade gingerly, like it might be hot.
"Is this gold?"
"Yes." Hermes said
she said. "Do you remember where you got it?"
"No."
"Hermes." Yelled Athena. "I'm trying to read."
"Sorry, Thena, but you asked." Hermes said, trying to lighten up the tension in the room.
Athena's eye twitched. She was about to stand up when a voice stopped her.
"Athena, read please, we don't have time to waste playing around." Zeus said.
"No," Jason said. "Like I said, I don't remember anything."
Annabeth nodded, like she'd just come up with a rather desperate plan. "If Chiron won't help, we'll need to figure things out ourselves. Which means … Cabin Fifteen. Rachel, you'll keep an eye on Piper?"
"Sure," Rachel promised. "Good luck, you two."
"Hold on," Jason said. "What's in Cabin Fifteen?"
Annabeth stood. "Maybe a way to get your memory back."
"Yes, please." Beryl muttered.
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,
The gods paled. "Don't, please don't." Zeus murmured.
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—
Athena yawned. Everyone else followed.
Annabeth nudged him. "Snap out of it."
Jason blinked. He realized his knees had been starting to buckle.
"Cabin Fifteen does that to everyone," Annabeth warned. "If you ask me, this place is even more dangerous than the Ares cabin.
"Hey, I find offence in that." Ares grumbled.
At least with Ares, you can learn where the land mines are."
"Landmines?" asked several mortal parents, looking pale.
"Yup." Ares grinned. "Landmines."
"Land mines?"
She walked up 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 thick features and a thick neck. His body was stocky, but he had spindly little arms like he'd never lifted anything heavier than a pillow.
"Clovis!" Annabeth shook harder, then finally knocked on his forehead about six times.
"Wh-wh-what?" Clovis complained, sitting up and squinting. He yawned hugely, and both Annabeth and Jason yawned too.
As did everyone else.
"Stop that!" Annabeth said. "We need your help."
"I was sleeping."
"You're always sleeping."
"Good night."
Before he could pass out, Annabeth yanked his pillow offthe bed.
"That's not fair," Clovis complained meekly. "Give it back."
"First help," Annabeth said. "Then sleep."
Clovis sighed. His breath smelled like warm milk. "Fine. What?"
Annabeth explained about Jason's problem. Every once in a while she'd snap her fingers under Clovis's nose to keep him awake.
Clovis must have been really excited, because when Annabeth was done, he didn't pass out. He actually stood and stretched, then blinked at Jason. "So you don't remember anything, huh?"
"Just impressions," Jason said. "Feelings, like …"
"Yes?" Clovis said.
"Like I know I shouldn't be here. At this camp. I'm in danger."
"Instincts." Muttered Beryl.
"Hmm. Close your eyes."
Jason glanced at Annabeth, but she nodded reassuringly.
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 he 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."
"Does she mean that literally or figuratively?" worried Beryl.
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 good sleep, I can bring them back. But this …"
"Lethe?" Annabeth asked.
"No," Clovis said. "Not even Lethe."
"Lethe?" Jason asked.
"What do they mean Lethe?" Tristan asked Sally.
"I think they meant the river in the Underworld." Sally whispered back.
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."
"Wow. Yeah, please don't touch the branch." Beryl said.
Jason was suddenly glad he hadn't touched the branch. "But … that's not my problem?"
"No," Clovis agreed. "Your mind wasn't wiped, and your memories weren'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."
"Or goddess." Hera huffed.
"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.
"Ah, Hypnos' kids. Gotta love them." Hermes said sarcastically.
"Clovis!" he yelled.
"What? What?" His eyes fluttered open. "We were talking about pillows, right? No, gods. I remember. Greek and Roman. Sure, 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.
The gods snickered.
"I mean … Yeah, I'm awake. So, um, personalities. The gods change to reflect their host cultures. You know that, Annabeth. I mean, these days, Zeus likes tailored suits, reality television, and that Chinese food place on East Twenty-eighth Street, right?
Everyone stared at Zeus.
"You know it's sad when a demigod knows your favorite place to eat." Hera mused.
Zeus blushed.
The other gods snickered.
It was the same in Roman times, and the gods were Roman almost as long as they were Greek. It was a big empire, 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, actually. Like recently, I dreamed I was watching a Michael Jackson concert, and then I was onstage 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—"
People laughed.
"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 exactly 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,
"Because you are Roman." Beryl said.
though wasn't sure why it mattered to him. "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 offat the wrong time, boom—they never woke up. He killed the helmsman of Aeneas when they were sailing from Troy."
"Remind me not to fall asleep on the job." Esperanza whispered to Emily.
Emily nodded.
"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?"
Annabeth stared at the branch above the fire, dripping Lethe water into the cups. She looked so worried, Jason wondered if she was considering a drink to forget her troubles.
"Oh, sweetheart. Don't. It's not worth it." Sally said.
Athena and Frederick looked resigned. They knew Sally would always be closer to Annabeth than them.
Then she stood and tossed Clovis his pillow. "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 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."
"Done. Who's next?" Athena said.
"Can I read?" asked Tristan.
"Sure." Athena levitated the book over to him.
"Lazy." Apollo said under his breath.
Hermes snickered.
Addy