Piper's right. He's breathing. He's breathing, and he squeezed my hand. He's alive. Jason's alive.

"Impossible," Hera declares, ever the optimist. "I wish it were true, child, but no mortal has ever—"

"Jason," Piper says, laying on the charmspeak as thick as she possibly can. "Listen to me. You can do this. Come back. You're going to be fine."

Nothing. No, no, I saw it. I saw him breathing, I felt him squeeze my hand. He's alive. I know he is. So why isn't he?

I double over, pressing my face into his shoulder. He's still warm. I let out another sob. This isn't fair. This isn't fucking fair. After everything I've been through, haven't I earned just this one thing? My mom abandoned me, my stepmother was murdered by my father who then tried to bury me alive. I ran away from foster care and was all alone in the world, living on the streets, until...

Until I met Jason. Until he found me. Or maybe I found him or maybe we found each other. Either way, he came into my life and he was...beautiful. Beautiful and kind and funny. Clever and selfless and a little dorky. A shining light. My shining light. My sweet, wonderful Jay, who made me believe in things like destiny and true love. 

I remember. I remember now. All of it. We only had three weeks together until everything went wrong and we got separated. We were so close to safety — to here, the Wolf House — just a couple of days away, when the Chimera came out of nowhere. We were on a cliffside. The Chimera's fire melted the metal railing. I was trying to avoid its tail, not eager to get poisoned.

I fell.

And then I was in Pennsylvania, soaked in my own blood, wandering numbly down a highway until a satyr found me. Hera's doing, I'm sure. She'd saved me from the fall but hadn't had the decency of healing my old injuries which must've reopened at some point in my fugue state. I got taken to Camp Half-Blood, the right place for me. Because I'm Greek. Not Roman. Not like him. I would've stuck out like a sore thumb at his camp.

I think I would've been happy, though. I would've been with him.

"Healing is not a power of Aphrodite," Hera says. "Even I cannot fix this, girl. His mortal spirit—"

"Jason," Piper tries again. Somehow, there's more weight to her words. No, not weight, exactly. Resonance? Power. Just...power. Power so strong it might wake the dead. "Wake up."

It won't work. It shouldn't work. It could never work.

It works.

I bolt upright, yanking my hand away as he lets out a sharp gasp, his eyes flying open. My jaw drops. His eyes...they're gold. Glowing gold. I hold my breath until the light fades. He blinks at us, looking more like he's been abruptly woken from his nap rather than resurrected. "What—What happened?"

"Impossible!" Hera exclaims.

Piper's quick to pull him into a tight embrace. Maybe too tight.

"Crushing me," he groans.

"Sorry," she says, pulling away with a little laugh. She wipes a tear from her eye. She looks so beautiful and composed while I'm a snotty mess. It's so unfair. She's so lucky she's one of my favorite people in the entire world or I'd hate her for that.

Thalia shifts to take Jason's hand, a small smile on her lips like she's worried if she's too happy he's alive he'll die again. "How do you feel?"

"Hot," he says. "Mouth is dry. And I saw something...really terrible."

"That was Hera," Thalia grumbles. "Her Majesty, the Loose Cannon."

Hera bristles. "That's it, Thalia Grace. I will turn you into an aardvark, so help me—"

"With all due respect, can you both shut the fuck up?" I snap. The two shoot each other dirty looks, but they keep their mouths shut.

Jason turns his attention to me. His face softens and he forces himself to sit more upright, reaching for me. "Dee-Dee...your shoulder—"

"I'm fine," I interject, swiping at my eyes. "It's just dislocated. No biggie. It only hurts a lot."

He cracks a smile. "Were you crying over me?"

"No," I blatantly lie. I sniffle. "Did you like, die or something, 'cause I—I wasn't paying attention."

Piper helps Jason to his feet, and Thalia helps me to mine. She gestures for Phoebe and one of the other Hunters to come over while Piper gives Jason the last of our nectar.

"Take good care of her," Thalia instructs. They nod, each taking one of my arms, but I pull away with a sharp hiss.

"Don't touch me," I whine. "I'm fine."

Thalia narrows her eyes. "You're not fine, Dee-Dee. How did you dislocate your shoulder, anyway?"

"I jumped off of a building," I say nonchalantly.

Her eyes go wide. "What?"

"Oh, my box!" I gasp. I run to grab the fallen jewelry box, dropped in my haste to get to Jason. When I get back to my friends, Thalia is offering Piper a spot with the Hunters.

Hera crosses her arms over her chest, still visibly irritated but at least keeping her snarky comments to herself. "Fortunately for this Hunter, you have a point, daughter of Aphrodite." She looks Piper over. "You wondered, Piper, why I chose you for this quest, why I didn't reveal your secret in the beginning, even when I knew Enceladus was using you. I must admit, until this moment I was not sure. Something told me you would be vital to this quest. Now I see I was right. You're even stronger than I realized. And you are correct about the dangers to come. We must work together."

Piper shifts uncomfortably, smiling but clearly not used to accepting compliments. That's something we have in common. Luckily, she's saved from coming up with a worthy response by Leo.

"Yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck, "I don't suppose that Porphyrion guy just melted and died, huh?"

"No," Hera confirms. "By saving me, and saving this place, you prevented Gaea from waking. You have bought us some time. But Porphyrion has risen. He simply knew better than to stay here, especially since he has not yet regained his full power. Giants can only be killed by a combination of god and demigod, working together. Once you freed me—"

"He ran away," Jason says. "But to where?"

Hera doesn't answer. I don't think she has to. I vaguely recall Porphyrion saying something about killing the Olympians by pulling up their roots. So...Greece, then. Hm. That's not good.

I really want answers about this stupid jewelry box, but I wait while Thalia talks. "I need to find Annabeth. She has to know what's happened here."

"Thalia..." Jason takes her hand and squeezes. "We never got to talk about this place, or—"

"I know." Her expression softens. It's a rare sight, like a blue moon or a solar eclipse. "I lost you here once. I don't want to leave you again. But we'll meet soon. I'll rendezvous with you back at Camp Half-Blood." She glances at Hera expectantly. "You'll see them there safely? It's the least you can do."

"It's not your place to tell me—"

"Queen Hera," Piper interjects.

Hera lets out a long sigh. "Fine. Yes. Just off with you, Hunter!"

Thalia hugs Jason. While I'm patiently waiting my turn, Phoebe and the Hunter sneak up on me and grab me in a tight hold. I yelp in surprise, and then I scream when they pop my shoulder back in. When they let me go, I instantly turn to swing at whoever's nearest, but Phoebe catches my wrist with one hand and offers me a bit of ambrosia with the other.

"Don't be stupid," she says. "It's a bad look on you."

I pout, but I take the ambrosia and pop it into my mouth. Instantly, a wave of relief crashes over me. I almost didn't realize how bad it actually hurt until the pain was gone. Thalia pulls me into a hug.

"Look after him for me, will you?" she mumbles. Words meant for my ears and my ears alone. I nod and she pulls away, ruffling my hair. "See you soon, Dee-Dee."

"Don't threaten me, Thals," I snark with a shit-eating grin. 

As soon as she turns her back, I flip her off. Somehow, she just knows, and without looking, she holds up her hand and flips me off right back. And then the Hunters are gone, and it's far too quiet, and I'm still holding this fucking jewelry box like a moron.

"Jason, what happened to you here?" Piper asks before I can raise the topic of the box. "I mean — I know your mom abandoned you here. But you said it was sacred ground for demigods. Why? What happened after you were on your own?"

He shakes his head, looking uneasy. "It's still murky. The wolves..."

"You were given a destiny," Hera tells him. "You were given into my service."

Jason scowls at her. "Because you forced my mom to do that. You couldn't stand knowing Zeus had two children with my mom. Knowing that he'd fallen for her twice. I was the price you demanded for leaving the rest of my family alone."

"It was the right choice for you as well, Jason," Hera insists and my gods, I might just throw this box on the ground and stomp on it. "The second time your mother managed to snare Zeus's affections, it was because she imagined him in a different aspect — the aspect of Jupiter. Never before had this happened — two children, Greek and Roman, born into the same family. You had to be separated from Thalia. This is where all demigods of your kind start their journey."

"Of his kind?" Piper asks.

"She means Roman," Jason says. Am I vibrating? I feel like I'm vibrating. "Demigods are left here. We meet the she-wolf goddess, Lupa, the same immortal wolf that raised Romulus and Remus."

Hera nods. "And if you are strong enough, you'll live."

"But..." Leo looks so confused. Me too, buddy. Me too. About an entirely different topic, but still confused. "What happened after that? I mean, Jason never made it to camp."

"Not to Camp Half-Blood, no," Hera agrees. I kind of want to punch her. I kind of want to punch anyone.

Piper has this sort of dazed look on her face. "You went somewhere else. That's where you've been all these years. Somewhere else for demigods — but where?"

Jason turns to Hera, brow furrowed. "The memories are coming back, but not the location. You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No," Hera says. "That is part of your destiny, Jason. You must find your own way back. But when you do...you will unite two great powers. You will give us hope against the giants, and more importantly — against Gaea herself."

"You want us to help you," Jason says, "but you're holding back information."

Okay, they have to be doing it on purpose at this point. Has no one else noticed the box I'm holding? Is no one else wondering why the queen of the heavens wanted me to climb a chimney? Have I gone completely insane and am just imagining the box and that's why no one is mentioning it or commenting on it? Oh my gods, am I hallucinating a fucking box?

"Suffice to say," Hera is saying when I snap out of my mini-existential crisis, "you have performed well, demigods. But this is only the beginning. Now you must return to Camp Half-Blood, where you will begin planning for the next phase."

"Does it have something to do with the box?" I ask very loudly, unable to keep quiet anymore.

Hera does a double-take but manages a pleasant smile. "Ah, you found it."

"Yeah, in the chimney," I say. "Just had to stick my hand in spiderwebs and pull out a dead bird first, all while my shoulder was dislocated. It was so great, by the way. Just a super enjoyable experience for me."

"Hand it over," Hera demands. I sigh but give her the box. She waves a hand over it. For a brief moment, the entire jewelry box glows. When the glow fades, the box is restored to its former glory, all glittering gold and shiny brass. She smiles almost fondly at the box. "A daughter of Arcus hid this here, many years ago. I trust it should help in your journey."

I tilt my head curiously, accepting the box back when she holds it out to me. "Arcus?"

"Iris's Roman counterpart," Jason explains. He shifts closer to me and taps the lid. "What's inside?"

"You may open it later," Hera says. "As I was saying, it is high time you return to Camp Half-Blood."

Jason pouts. He actually pouts at the queen of Olympus. It's adorable. "And I suppose you destroyed my nice storm spirit horse, so we'll have to walk home?"

Hera waves her hand dismissively. "Storm spirits are creatures of chaos. I did not destroy that one, though I have no idea where he went, or whether you'll see him again. But there is an easier way home for you. As you have done me a great service, so I can help you — at least this once. Farewell, demigods, for now."

The world turns upside down and everything goes black.

*

The next thing I know, we're in the dining pavilion back at camp. We're standing on top of table ten, interrupting what was probably a very nice dinner before our intrusion. Piper is standing on Drew's pizza, and I've knocked over Lacy's goblet, getting lemonade all over my shoes. All sixty campers jump to their feet at once, looking more confused than I've seen them since Thalia came back to life.

I feel a little sick to my stomach, but I think the ambrosia in my system keeps me from puking. Piper doesn't look so hot, but she doesn't vomit either. Leo, however, has to go running to the nearest brazier for somewhere to throw up. I wince. Luckily, the resulting smoke doesn't smell like flambeed vomit. Still. Not the best offering for the gods.

"Jason?" Chiron trots over. Even he's astonished by our little party trick. "What—How—?"

"Hi," Piper says awkwardly. "We're back."

No one says anything or so much as moves a muscle.

"Not enough enthusiasm," I tell her. I raise my jewelry box proudly, beaming at my siblings. "We lived, bitches!"

This time, the campers roar.

*

The rest of the night is a total blur. I know I gave all of my friends and siblings big hugs, and I know we told everyone what happened and we answered as many questions as we possibly could, but I don't really remember what I said or if any of it was coherent. I just remember sitting sandwiched between Butch and Roz, their arms around my shoulders, and leaning on them for support. I think Chiron sent us to bed when I nodded off on Butch's shoulder, but I jumped in the shower first and washed away all of the muck and grime I'd accrued over the past week. Then I threw on my comfiest pair of pajamas and passed out in my bed on top of my covers.

When I wake up, I'm under my covers and Roz is curled up next to me.

She cracks open an eye. "You awake?"

"Unfortunately," I grumble, shifting to wind my arm through hers. "Do you think anyone would judge me too harshly if I just stayed in bed all day?"

Butch speaks up from across the cabin. "You haven't opened your box yet."

I jump to my feet in a flurry of blankets. "I'm up!"

A moment later, we're all sitting on Butch's bed, me in the middle. I'm about to open it when I pause. "Wait. Should I be doing this like, at a cabin counselor meeting or—"

"One of our half-siblings hid this centuries ago for you to find," Butch says. "This is for us, and us alone. You can tell the others about it later."

He makes a great point. I trap my bottom lip between my teeth as I undo the latch and open the box I'd fallen off a building for.

The interior is red velvet, perfectly luxurious. Laying within is a silver locket and a small scroll. Roz snatches up the locket while I unfurl the scroll.

"Fuck," I hiss, throwing it back down almost immediately. "It's in Latin."

"And the locket doesn't open," Roz whines. She tosses it back in with a pout. "No offense, Delia, but your box was kind of a bust."

I purse my lips, determined to find some meaning in all of this. "No, no way. I let Jason fight the king of the giants alone to get this thing." My mind starts whirring, trying to find a way to salvage this. "Okay, so the scroll's in Latin, but Jason's fluent, I think, so I can have him translate it. And Leo's good with tools, so I'll ask him to take a look at the locket."

I nod to myself as I let the lid fall back into place. "Yeah, yeah, that'll work." I grin at Roz and Butch, pleased with myself. "See? No need to throw in the towel just yet."

Butch shakes his head at me, amazed. "Who are you and what have you done with Cordelia Yorkes?"

My face lights up. "That reminds me!" I pass the box off to Roz and hurry to fetch my backpack from across the room. Then I'm plopping back down between her and Butch and pulling out the picture of me and Noelle to show them. "This is me and my stepmom."

"She was so pretty," Roz says softly, leaning against me. "She was a musician?"

"Yeah," I sigh. The picture makes my heart ache but in a good way. "She taught me how to play guitar and piano, and how to read music. We even wrote a song together."

"Sweet," Butch comments. "What did you say her name was?"

I meet his eyes, beaming like a lighthouse. "Her name was Noelle. Noelle Yorkes."

*

We end up being a little late to breakfast, and then Butch gives me permission to hang out in our cabin all day. At first, the plan is to just sleep, but the song is still in my head. So I get up and look for some kind of paper and writing utensil. I find Roz's ink pens and a few mechanical pencils, but my search for paper turns up empty. With a huff, I change into real pants and force myself out of Cabin 14.

I think about going to the Arts & Crafts Cabin, but there are probably people in there and I don't feel like people seeing me right now, so I head to Cabin 7 instead. I know it'll be empty, and I know it'll have what I really need — blank sheet music. The plan is to just grab it in and go, but there I'm in there and I see Erin's old backpack, sky blue and embroidered with fluffy clouds (Lacy's handiwork), lying at the foot of Will's bed. I told him a few months ago not to get rid of it just yet, that I wanted to go through it first, and then I kept putting it off.

Armed with empty sheet music and Erin's backpack, I return to Cabin 14 and sit cross-legged in the center of my bed. First, I write down Noelle and I's song, worried I'll forget it again if I wait too long. Even just jotting that down makes me start to tear up, but I push through. Once it's all there, I set the sheet music to the side. Then I take a deep breath and face what I've been avoiding since August.

I start with the smallest pocket on the front. It's stained with dry flecks of blood, though I'm not sure who it belongs to. Inside is a small box full of multicolored pushpins and a polaroid of me, her, Taylor, and Miranda, taken before Lacy got to camp. I tack it up on the wall above my bunk with a blue pushpin, and then I put up the picture of me and Noelle with one yellow pushpin and one pink pushpin.

The second smallest pocket is mostly empty. It's where she kept her healing supplies, so Will must've taken all of that. All that's left is a few crumpled sheets of paper with scribbled-out lyrics and a forgotten pen. It's a novelty pen from the Empire State Building gift shop. Taylor had gotten it for her as a joke. I used to have one too, but I lost it. I decide to give Erin's back to Taylor because I know it will make her laugh.

Now for the big pocket, the reason this backpack feels so damn heavy. I unzip it and immediately I understand the weight. It's all of Erin's songs. Two Lisa Frank folders bursting at the seams with sheets of music both handwritten and printed, and three of her songbooks, all of various sizes. The biggest songbook is the one Lacy and I got her. It's just a black notebook, but we'd decorated the cover with a carefully curated collage — pictures of us, of her siblings, of things that matched her aesthetic and her favorite singers. Silena had helped us pick everything out and put it together.

I'm wiping my eyes when I see a bookmark (laminated with real pressed flowers, a gift from Miranda) stuck between the pages. I flip the notebook open to a song Erin had dubbed Wondering. I run my fingers over the lyrics. She'd played this for me before, I realize. The last song she ever sang for me, just days before the Battle of Manhattan. She'd written it based on a conversation we'd had about my amnesia and on her own fears and worries. She'd goaded me into singing it with her and I'd gotten it stuck in my head. I'd wanted to erase it from my memories so I wouldn't have to keep hearing it on a loop.

Now I close my eyes and try to recall all of the little details. Erin's chipped pink nail polish. Her triumphant smile when I agreed to sing with her. That glimmer in her eye she only ever got while performing. The way she'd insisted on high-fiving me when we were done, and then she'd insisted on a hug "for good measure." Her hearty laugh and her goofy vocal exercises and her general Erin-ness that made me love her so much.

I'm still crying when Roz comes to check in on me during her free time. She doesn't say anything, just sits next to me and gives me a big hug. 

"Hey, Roz?" I rasp, still wrapped in her arms.

"Yeah, Delia?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

I pull away with a little sniffle. "I know I don't say that enough."

She snorts. "No, you don't. But it's cool."

I remember then that I still have some regrets to rectify. 

"No, I don't," I echo. I want to stay here and cry some more, but I get up anyway because I need to stop putting things off. "Sorry to cut sister-bonding time short, but there's something I really need to do."

"Go for it," Roz says, grinning. "I'll probably be here when you get back."

I have my hand on the doorknob when she says, "Wait." I turn around expectantly and she smiles shyly, hugging one of my pillows close to her chest. "I'm really glad you're home."

"Yeah," I say, opening the door to the familiar scent of strawberries in the breeze. "Me too."

*

first chapter of the new year!!! i hope y'all like it <3