𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 - j. grace, ocxoc ¹ ✓

vii. patches of green burnt down !

VII.      JASON GRACE   !
⋆ ★
patches of green burnt down

The sound of thunder woke Jason up. Still groggy, he thought the end of the world was happening. Then he remembered where he was. It was always thundering in Cabin One.

Above his cot, the domed ceiling was decorated with a blue-and-white mosaic like a cloudy sky. The cloud tiles shifted across the ceiling, changing from white to black. Thunder rumbled through the room, and gold tiles flashed like veins of lightning.

Except for the cot that the other campers had brought him, the cabin had no regular furniture—no chairs, tables, or dressers. As far as Jason could tell, it didn't even have a bathroom. The walls were carved with alcoves, each holding a bronze brazier or a golden eagle statue on a marble pedestal. In the center of the room, a twenty-foot-tall, full-color statue of Zeus in classic Greek robes stood with a shield at his side and a lightning bolt raised, ready to smite somebody.

Jason studied the statue, looking for anything he had in common with the Lord of the Sky. Black hair? Nope. Grumbly expression? Well, maybe. Beard? No thanks. In his robes and sandals, Zeus looked like a really buff, really angry hippie.

Yeah, Cabin One. A big honor, the other campers had told him. Sure, if you liked sleeping in a cold temple by yourself with Hippie Zeus frowning down at you all night.

Jason got up and rubbed his neck. His whole body was stiff from bad sleep and summoning lightning. That little trick last night hadn't been as easy as he had let on. It had almost made him pass out.

Next to the cot, new clothes were laid out for him: jeans, sneakers, and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt. He definitely needed a change of clothes, but looking down at his tattered purple shirt, he was reluctant to change. It felt wrong somehow, putting on the camp shirt. He still couldn't believe he belonged here, despite everything they'd told him.

He thought about his dream, hoping more memories would come back to him about Lupa, or that ruined house in the redwoods. He knew he'd been there before. The wolf was real. But his head ached when he tried to remember. The marks on his forearm seemed to burn.

If he could find those ruins, he could find his past. Whatever was growing inside that rock spire, Jason had to stop it.

He looked at Hippie Zeus. "You're welcome to help." The statue said nothing.

"Thanks, Pops," Jason muttered.

He changed clothes and checked his reflection in Zeus's shield. His face looked watery and strange in the metal, like he was dissolving in a pool of gold.

His mind went to Kaori, who looked like she wasn't enjoying the campfire as much as others were last night. Everytime he glanced at her and was looking down, fiddling with her fingers or simply zoning out. She'd whisper to Kaen at times, but for the most part she looked like she wanted to go straight to her cabin. The only smile she had was when she agreed to go on the quest, and it was so genuine Jason thought she was acting and it was all a hoax.

Jason felt bad for her. Maybe that was crazy, considering she'd willingly agreed to go on the quest. But knowing that she had some problems to have the courage to speak to anyone she didn't know made Jason worry that she'd run away from Piper and Leo as soon as they set off. The other problem: Jason knew that problems would appear with Kaori and Piper — a girl who Jason was starting to have an interest in, and a girl who he was supposed to be interested in.

His talk with Kaori after the campfire didn't really help.

Last night when he'd called down lightning, the other campers' reactions had seemed familiar to him. He was pretty sure he'd been dealing with that for a long time—people looking at him in awe just because he was the son of Zeus, treating him special, but it didn't have anything to do with him. Nobody cared about him, just his big scary daddy standing behind him with the doomsday bolt, as if to say, Respect this kid or eat voltage!