Where You Go ― Jason Grace

xxxii. traditions

"That stupid wall is going to kill me one day," Piper said in between breaths and gulps of water from the bottle Ophelia handed her. 

"Why don't you just charmspeak the lava not to touch you?" Ophelia said. "Worked for Hera's cage." 

Piper rolled her eyes. "Lava's inanimate," she said. "That cage thingy was like an extension of Gaea. Totally different." 

Ophelia hummed. "Makes sense." 

"Is it time for lunch yet?" Piper asked. "I'm starving." 

"Should be any time now," Ophelia said. 

Piper nodded. She shifted to rest her head on Ophelia's leg. "How's your memory coming along?" 

"Some parts are still foggy, but I remember most things," Ophelia answered. "My mom and my aunt, my brother and Gi. Camp life, the barracks—all that good stuff." 

"Kind of ironic Hera stole you guys from a military camp and put you in a military school," Piper pointed out. "Though from what I've heard, I'm sure your camp is a lot nicer." 

"Oh, definitely," Ophelia agreed. "But we didn't have a Coach Hedge. Just a Terminus." 

Piper laughed. "Well, you guys were missing out, then," she joked. "I dunno what a Terminus is, but I doubt it's got anything on Coach." 

Ophelia snorted. "Of course not," she agreed. "Hedge is... one of a kind." 

The conch horn blew across the camp, signaling the start of lunch. Piper sat up as Ophelia stood, offering her friend a hand up. "C'mon, Pepper," Ophelia said, hooking an arm over Piper's shoulders. "Let's go get some food so you don't starve."

❖

Ophelia would never understand how Leo—or any of the Hephaestus kids, for that matter—could do the things they did. Just watching them at work, sketching details for the Argo II or starting to build any one of the multiple weapons the warship would boast, made Ophelia more than a little envious of how skilled they were. 

She looked back down at the maps spread out in front of her, studying them for any clues as to the exact location of Camp Jupiter. On a blank map of the U.S., she'd drawn a wide circle around the Bay Area in California, marking Mount Tam, Mount Diablo, and various other landmarks that sparked something in her returning memory. Scattered around the work table Leo had assigned her and whatever siblings came by to help—Hermes was the god of travelers, so they were pretty good with navigation—were older maps of the U.S., with sites of battles between Roman and Greek demigods marked on each of them. 

Despite Hera's warning, she'd tried to see if her compass would at least point her toward the Roman camp. But, alas, it had proven just as useless as Hera had said in showing them where Camp Jupiter was. Ophelia knew that was due to the magic that veiled the camp's location, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

"Any revelations, Phee?" Leo called from a few work tables away where he was sketching designs of the Argo II's interior, using some of Annabeth's notes from her visit to Bunker Nine earlier that afternoon. 

"Nope," she said with a scowl. "Just the same vague idea of where it is." 

"Maybe it's like instinct or something," Leo suggested. "Like, you won't be able to find it on a map, but you'll know you're close when you get close? If that makes sense?" 

Ophelia sighs. "It does make sense," she grumbled, gathering her maps and putting them into a neat stack on top of the table. She'd been working for a few hours and she was starting to go cross-eyed. "That's the problem. I just want a solid destination, not a stupid guessing game."