𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

16

𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐞, Jason thought they were prepared for anything.

Annabeth had paced the deck of their flying warship, the Argo II, checking and double-checking the ballistae to make sure they were locked down. She confirmed that the white "We come in peace" flag was flying from the mast. She reviewed the plan with the rest of the crew— and the backup plan, and the backup plan for the backup plan.

Most important, she pulled aside their war-crazed chaperone, Coach Gleeson Hedge, and encouraged him to take the morning off in his cabin and watch reruns of mixed martial arts championships. The last thing they needed as they flew a magical Greek trireme into a potentially hostile Roman camp was a middle-aged satyr in gym clothes waving a club and yelling "Die!"

Everything seemed to be in order.

Up on the crossbow platform of the ship, Jason felt like throwing up. He had played the role of the golden boy of Rome for so long, he should have felt comfortable fitting right in. Except he didn't.

Camp Halfblood had treated him far kinder than Rome ever had. For one, there were no wolf goddesses that trained toddlers. And for another, they felt like a proper tight knit family.

Jason had seen the best of both camps, now he just had to make Camp Jupiter see what he had.

Jason should have been excited. He was returning home with new friends, new allies and a girlfriend.

Half of his memories had come back, but he still struggled with the other half, as if he was grappling with Hera herself for a hold of his own life.

He remembered Reyna, Octavian, the other centurions. He remembered Lupa, New Rome, the battle at mount Othrys. And yet there was a huge chunk of his life he just didn't remember.

Those eyes. That was the memory he latched onto, even though he still didn't have a clue who they belonged to.

Try as he might, he couldn't place the name or the person.

The warship descended through the clouds and Jason really hoped the Romans didn't shoot them on sight.

The Argo II definitely did not look friendly. Two hundred feet long, with a bronze-plated hull, mounted repeating crossbows fore and aft, a flaming metal dragon for a figurehead, and two rotating ballistae amidships that could fire explosive bolts powerful enough to blast through concrete... well, it wasn't the most appropriate ride for a meet-and-greet with the neighbors.

They had tried to give the Romans a heads-up. Annabeth had asked Leo to send one of his special inventions— a holographic scroll— to alert their friends inside the camp. Hopefully the message had gotten through. Leo had wanted to paint a giant message on the bottom of the hull— WASSUP? with a smiley face— but Annabeth and Jason vetoed the idea. The Romans weren't exactly known for their sense of humor.

Too late to turn back now.

The clouds broke around their hull, revealing the gold-and-green carpet of the Oakland Hills below them.

Everyone took their places.

On the stern quarterdeck, Leo rushed around like a madman, checking his gauges and wrestling levers. Most helmsmen would've been satisfied with a pilot's wheel or a tiller. Leo had also installed a keyboard, monitor, aviation controls from a Learjet, a dubstep soundboard, and motion-control sensors from a Nintendo Wii. He could turn the ship by pulling on the throttle, fire weapons by sampling an album, or raise sails by shaking his Wii controllers really fast. Even by demigod standards, Leo was seriously ADHD.