I try to stay upbeat for Jason's sake.

I don't want to bombard him with questions, so I just walk him up to the Big House. When we get there, I fake a cheery grin. "Here we are! The Big House, camp headquarters." Jason takes it in. I remember when I saw it for the first time. It was one of the first things I ever remember seeing. As soon as my eyes landed on it, I felt calm. Safe.

Now when I look at it, I just wonder why it has four stories.

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

I pat his shoulder lightly. "It's okay. I get that feeling sometimes too. But this is Camp Half-Blood. It's the safest place for demigods." He doesn't really look at me. I bite my bottom lip. Alright, it's now or never. "So, what did you mean when you said you don't remember how you got your tattoo?"

He eyes me like I'm insane. "I meant I don't remember."

"I get that," I snap. He recoils. Instantly, I feel bad. I have no reason to be short with him. "I mean, like, do you remember anything?" For a moment, he just looks at me. I shift uncomfortably under his gaze. I don't really get why he's just staring. Is he checking me out?

"Not really," he admits. "I don't remember anything before I woke up on the bus today." My eyes light up. He has amnesia, just like me. Finally, I have someone to talk to. No one else at camp knows what it's like to not remember who you are or where you come from.

I latch onto both of his arms and lean in, bouncing slightly on my heels. "I don't remember anything beyond three years. The first thing I remember is opening my eyes and being here, at camp. The only thing I remembered about myself was my first name." His eyes widen and he visibly relaxes. I know what that's like. To calm down when you finally speak to someone who doesn't expect answers from you.

"We could start a club," he jokes. "Amnesiacs United."

"We can meet every Wednesday," I continue, beaming. "And it will be perfectly anonymous because neither of us knows who we are." He cracks a smile for the first time since crash-landing into camp.

There are about thirteen seconds of time during which we just look at each other. Eventually, I pull away from him. "I'm really sorry you're going through this, but I have to be honest, it's really nice to have someone else at camp who knows what it's like." I look above his head.

"You're waiting for a sign," he guesses. "Like what popped over Leo's head."

"Maybe." I duck my head as my face grows hot. "I don't know. I was thinking maybe whoever wiped your memories wiped mine too, and  if I knew who your godly parent was, it'd help narrow it down, ya know?"

He takes my hands. "Three years and no answers?" I know I'm supposed to answer, but I'm too busy staring at our hands. I'm not a very touchy-feely person. I especially don't like it when someone touches my hands. But for some reason, I don't mind that Jason is holding my hands like we've been friends forever. I wonder if he even notices how jacked up my fingertips are. If he does, he doesn't say anything.

Three years and no answers.

My vision blurs. I set my jaw and tear my hands away. "Hopefully it won't be like that for you." The door to the Big House opens and Chiron walks out onto the porch. I wipe my hands on my shorts. "Chiron! This is Jason. He has amnesia, like me."

When Chiron finally rounds the corner, Jason backs up and nearly trips over his own feet. I fight a laugh. At first, Chiron smiles at Jason the way he smiles at all new campers, and then, the color drains from his face. I glance between Chiron and Jason, wondering if I missed something.

"You..." Chiron has this look in his eyes I've never seen before. A chill runs down my spine. "You should be dead."

"What?" I take a step forward. "What does that mean?"

"Jason, come inside," Chiron says. "Cordelia, go back to your cabin."

I cross my arms over my chest. "You can't just say something like that then send me back to my cabin!" Jason watches Chiron and I like we're a tennis match.

"Cordelia, please," Chiron begs. He's not in any sort of mood to argue with me. I really don't like that. I don't like anything that's been happening lately. First, the gods go silent, then Percy vanishes, then Chiron says Jason should be dead. What is going on? Are we on the brink of another war already?

I nod reluctantly and whisper "Good luck" to Jason as I walk past. I hurry back towards my cabin, but I'm not dropping this that easily. Maybe Leo or Piper know more. I try checking the usual areas for them. According to Will, Leo is in the forge. The last time I went into the forge, I nearly got decapitated, so I decide to focus on finding Piper.

I've just about given up when I see a familiar blonde emerge from Hera's cabin. Is that Annabeth? What is she doing in Hera's -- oh gods, is that Piper? I run towards them. Annabeth and Rachel are holding up Piper, who is very much unconscious.

"What happened?" I ask. I take hold of Piper's legs to help out. We pick up the pace, sprinting towards the Big House.

"I don't know," Rachel explains, a panicked look in her eyes. "We were in Hera's cabin, and I had this vision." She bursts into tears.

"A vision from Hera?" I press. 

Annabeth scowls. "Most likely." I fight a smirk. It's no secret Annabeth and Hera don't get along. Hera demands respect, but Annabeth only gives respect if it's earned. It's one of the reasons why we get along so well.

"Wasn't your vision from Hera?"

She nods. My mind is whirring. Two visions from Hera in the span of 24 hours after months of silence from the gods along with an amnesiac who is apparently supposed to be dead? No way is any of this a coincidence. 

We rush up the steps of the Big House porch and burst through the door. Jason and Chiron are in the living room. Jason comes over as soon as he sees Piper. Something about that pricks my heart. I try to ignore it.

Jason looks panicked. "What happened? What's wrong with her?"

"Hera's cabin," Annabeth pants. "Vision. Bad."

Rachel sniffles. "I think...I think I may have killed her."

"You didn't kill her, Rach," I assure our oracle. "Here, let's get her on the couch."

"I'll run and grab a medkit," Annabeth says. She passes Piper to Jason and together the three of us lay her down on the couch. I give Piper a quick assessment. She's breathing, which is good. It's like she's slipped into a dream and she refuses to wake up. Still, that's a lot easier to work with than dead.

"We've got to heal her," Jason insists as I prop Piper up on some pillows. "There's a way, right?"

We all look expectantly to Chiron, who lays a hand on her forehead. Oh, I don't like that face he's making. His hand leaves her forehead and his expression softens. "Her mind is in a fragile state. Rachel, what happened?" That's a great question, one I would also love to know the answer to.

Rachel sighs and tugs her fingers through her fiery red curls. "I wish I knew. 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." My eyebrows shoot into my hairline. A different voice? She can't mean the Oracle of Delphi because Annabeth would just call her by name, not say 'a different voice.'

Chiron asks, "A prophecy?"

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

Annabeth comes running back in holding a medkit. She kneels down next to Piper and starts talking a mile a minute. "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 interjects. My blood runs cold. This is bad. This is very, very bad. I pace back and forth in front of Seymour like if I get enough steps in everything will be okay.

I get back up.

"How did you know that?" Annabeth questions. She's unnerved again. Great. Annabeth Chase unnerved twice in one day? The world must be on the brink of ending. Oh, Gods, I take that back. Please don't let the world be ending. It just almost ended!

"Jason, tell them," Chiron commands. "Annabeth, the medicine bag, please." He tends to Piper as Jason launches into a tale about the room freezing and a misty woman who claimed to be his patron. When he finishes, the room stays quiet for a moment. We're all trying to digest this information. Annabeth and I are having a conversation with our eyes. A probable third vision from Hera? But why would Hera be in prison? Is there anyone powerful enough to capture her after we defeated the Titans back in August?

Jason clears his throat awkwardly. "So, does this happen often? Supernatural phone calls from convicts demanding you bust them out of jail?" Despite everything, I can't help but giggle. If there was any proper sense of justice in the world, Hera would be a convict. Unfortunately, those in power are rarely held accountable.

Annabeth shoots me a look, then presses, "Your patron. Not your godly parent?"

"No, she said patron," he elaborates. "She also said my dad had given her my life."

"Yep, sounds like the gods," I sigh.

Annabeth frowns. "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?"

Jason shakes his head. "I don't think so. 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 whips around and fixes her steely gaze on Chiron. "Not Kronos. Please tell me it's not that." Chiron can't meet her eye. He checks Piper's pulse, looking absolutely miserable.

"It can't be Kronos," I chime in. I'm assuring myself as much as I'm assuring Annabeth. "We wasted that motherfucker."

"Language Cordelia!" Chiron reprimands. I roll my eyes. Chiron's face falls. He's never looked so ancient before. "It is not Kronos. That threat has ended. But..."

"But what?" Annabeth prompts. As desperate as the rest of us are for answers, Annabeth is ten times more so. Maybe it's because her mom is the goddess of wisdom, or maybe it's because the more answers she has, the closer she is to finding Percy. Either way, once Annabeth sets her mind to something, she's basically an unstoppable force of nature. If Chiron has answers, she will get them out of him sooner or later.

Preferably sooner. As in right now.

"Piper needs rest," Chiron says, effectively dodging the question. He closes the medical bag. "We should discuss this later."

"Or now," Jason argues. I nod enthusiastically. Yes, now sounds like a great idea. He continues, "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?"

Rachel's voice is uncharacteristically soft as she lets out an, "Oh. Oh, dear. The woman was Hera. Of course. Her cabin, her voice. She showed herself to Jason at the same moment."

Annabeth's growl sends shivers down my spine. "Hera? She took you over? She did this to Piper?" I bite down on my bottom lip. If Hera is the one who appeared to Jason, then his godly parent is most likely Zeus. After all, who else would give their son's life to the queen of the gods?

"I think Rachel's right," Jason says, completely unaware of the hurricane brewing in Annabeth's eyes. "The woman did seem like a goddess. And she wore this—this goatskin cloak. That's a symbol of Juno, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Annabeth asks. She scowls and a part of me wonders if it's still safe to be in the same room as her. "I've never heard that."

Chiron nods like someone is holding a gun to his head. "Of Juno, Hera's Roman aspect, in her most warlike state. The goatskin cloak was a symbol of the Roman soldier." Roman. Jason had called Hephaestus by his Roman name. Are there Roman demigods, and if so, is Jason one of them?

It would make sense. If the Greek gods are alive and well, why wouldn't the other gods be? Roman, Norse, Egyptian, Hindu...Shit. Just how many fucking monsters are out there in the world? How many wars have been waged under mortals' noses? How many times has the world nearly come to an end?

"Cordy!"

I jolt, whipping around to face Annabeth. Her eyes are wide. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say automatically.

"You're glimmering," she points out. I blink a few times to adjust my vision and shit, she's right. Rainbow glimmers hang around me like a shield. I look around. Chiron is gone. I hadn't even noticed him leaving. I hope I didn't miss too much of the conversation. I take a deep breath and the glimmers blink out of existence.

"Sorry," I mutter.

Jason shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry. 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 demands. "I've never seen him act this way. And why would he tell me to talk to you about the gods..."

I open my mouth to share my theory about Roman demigods and Jason being one, but for some inexplicable reason, I don't say anything and close my mouth. I don't know what it is, but I have this instinct to keep my theory to myself. Almost like I too had made an oath. If I concentrate, I vaguely recall a familiar voice stating urgently, "You can't tell anyone." My vision blurs.

"Cordy?"

"I need to go," I mumble, and then I'm running out of the Big House. My lungs feel tight. I need somewhere to be alone, a rare commodity here. Camp is great and all, but there are people everywhere all the time. It's nearly impossible to take some time for yourself. Which is why I head to the forest despite it technically being off-limits. I couldn't care less that there's a rampaging mechanical dragon.

I refuse to cry in front of anyone.

I find a small cove I remember hiding in for Capture the Flag once or twice. I duck behind the mossy curtain and curl up against the cool rock. Finally, I let myself cry. I let myself break down. I let myself stumble and fall.

But when the tears dry, I get back up.

*