Death's Touch | Jason Grace

Twenty-seven

Cary tried to make the best of the situation.

Once she, Piper, and Jason had gotten tired of pacing the deck, listening to Coach Hedge sing "Old MacDonald" (with weapons instead of animals), they decided to have a picnic in the park.

Hedge grudgingly agreed. "Stay where I can see you."

"What are we, kids?" Jason asked.

Hedge snorted. "Kids are baby goats. They're cute, and they have redeeming social value. You are definitely not kids."

They spread their blanket under a willow tree next to a pond. Piper turned over her cornucopia and spilled out an entire meal—neatly wrapped sandwiches, canned drinks, fresh fruit, and a birthday cake with purple icing and candles already lit.

She frowned. "Is it someone's birthday?"

Jason winced. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"Jason!" Cary scolded.

"There's too much going on," he said. "And honestly... before last month, I didn't even know when my birthday was. Thalia told me the last time she was at camp."

"July First," Piper said. "The Kalends of July."

"Yeah." Jason smirked. "The Romans would find that auspicious—the first day of the month named for Julius Caesar. Juno's sacred day. Yippee."

"Sixteen?" she asked.

He nodded. "Oh, boy. I can get my driver's license."

Piper laughed. Jason had killed so many monsters and saved the world so many times that the idea of him sweating a driving test seemed ridiculous. She pictured him behind the wheel of some old Lincoln with a STUDENT DRIVER sign on top and a grumpy teacher in the passenger seat with an emergency brake pedal. Cary burst out laughing at him.

"Well?" she urged. "Blow out the candles."

Jason did. Cary wondered if he'd made a wish—hopefully that he and Cary would survive this quest and stay together forever. She decided not to ask him. She didn't want to jinx that wish, and she definitely didn't want to find out that he'd wished for something different.

Jason plucked an extinguished candle from his cake. "I've been thinking."

That snapped Piper back to the present. Coming from your boy best friend, I've been thinking was kind of a scary line.

"About?" she asked.

"Camp Jupiter," he said. "All the years I trained there. We were always push- ing teamwork, working as a unit. I thought I understood what that meant. But hon- estly? I was always the leader. Even when I was younger—"

"The son of Jupiter," Piper said. "Most powerful kid in the legion. You were the star."

Jason looked uncomfortable, but he didn't deny it. "Being in this crew of eight... I'm not sure what to do. I'm not used to being one of so many, well, equals. I feel like I'm failing."

Piper took his hand. "You're not failing."

"It sure felt that way when Chrysaor attacked," Jason said. "I've spent most of this trip knocked out and helpless."

"Come on," Cary chided. "Being a hero doesn't mean you're invincible. It just means that you're brave enough to stand up and do what's needed."

"And if I don't know what's needed?"

"That's what your friends are for. We've all got different strengths. Together, we'll figure it out."

Jason studied them. Cary wasn't sure that he bought what she was saying, but she was glad he could confide in her. She liked that he had a little self-doubt. He didn't succeed all the time. He didn't think the universe owed him an apology whenever something went wrong—unlike another son of the sky god she'd recently met.