Where You Go ― Jason Grace

iv. nothing like a roman feast

OPHELIA HAD FORGOTTEN how much she loved Roman feasts. Aurae carrying an endless assortment of finger foods; Lares drifting around in their togas and legionnaire armor; fauns trotting from table to table, panhandling for food and spare change. 

In the fields nearby, Hannibal frolicked with a huge black hellhound that was apparently Percy's pet, and children from New Rome played tag around the statues of Terminus that dotted the Pomerian Line.

Reyna stood, calling a toast to friendship. Introductions were made, and soon everyone was exchanging stories. Jason explained how he and Ophelia had arrived at Camp Half-Blood without their memories, how they'd gone on a quest with Piper and Leo to rescue Juno from imprisonment at the Wolf House.

"Impossible!" Octavian broke in. "That's our most sacred place. If the giants had imprisoned a goddess there—"

"They would've destroyed her," Piper said. "And blamed it on the Greeks, and started a war between the camps. Now, be quiet and let Jason finish."

Ophelia stifled a laugh as Octavian opened his mouth, trying and failing to speak. Gods, Ophelia loved Piper's charmspeak.

"So," Jason continued, shooting Piper a grateful look, "that's how we found out about the earth goddess Gaea. She's still half asleep, but she's the one freeing the monsters from Tartarus and raising the giants. Porphyrion, the big leader dude we fought at the Wolf House: he said he was retreating to the ancient lands—Greece itself. He plans on awakening Gaea and destroying the gods by... what did he call it?"

"Pulling up their roots," Ophelia supplied.

Percy nodded thoughtfully. "Gaea's been busy over here, too. We had our own encounter with Queen Dirt Face."

He recounted his side of the story: waking up at the Wolf House with no memories except Annabeth's name, his quest with Hazel and Frank—the legionnaire Ophelia hadn't recognized—to Alaska. He told them how they'd defeated the giant Alcyoneus, freed Thanatos, and returned with the lost golden eagle standard of Camp Jupiter to repel an attack by the giants' army.

When Percy was done, Jason whistled appreciatively. "No wonder they made you praetor."

Octavian snorted. "Which means we now have three praetors! The rules clearly state we can only have two!"

"On the bright side," Percy said, "both Jason and I outrank you, Octavian. So we can both tell you to shut up."

Octavian's face turned purple. Jason gave Percy a fist bump like they were already best friends.

Even Reyna managed a smile, though her eyes were stormy. "We'll have to figure out the extra praetor problem later," she said. "Right now we have more serious issues to deal with."

"I'll step aside for Jason," Percy said easily. "It's no biggie."

"No biggie?" Octavian choked. "The praetorship of Rome is no biggie?"

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "You're just mad there's three praetors and none of them are you," she said with a dismissive eye-roll. 

Octavian glared at her like he was trying to set her on fire with his eyes alone, but it didn't have much of an effect. He was so scrawny she could break his arm with one medium-strength smack, and she could still remember the high-pitched shriek he'd let out when she and Maren filled his precious stuffed animal offerings with Kool-Aid. No matter how hard the scarecrow tried, he'd never be intimating to her.  

She returned his glare with one of her own, channeling the wolf stare Lupa taught her pups. It only took seconds for Octavian to look away, grumbling under his breath about traitor-lovers.