Where You Go ― Jason Grace

xvii. jason accidentally pisses off the most powerful demigod of all time

Here she was, comforting him when she was the one who'd just found out her ex-girlfriend-turned-nemesis had come back to life. 

He didn't deserve her. He wasn't sure he ever would.

"What now?" Piper asked, looking between the pillars at the open sea ahead. "Do we just... sail in?" 

"Why not?" Leo asked. "It's a big shipping channel. Boats go in and out all the time." 

Annabeth gazed up at the Rock of Gibraltar. "In the old days," she said, "they called this area the Pillars of Hercules. The Rock was supposed to be one pillar. The other is one of the African mountains. Nobody is sure which one."

"Hercules, huh?" Percy frowned. "That guy is like the Starbucks of Ancient Greece. Everywhere you turn—there he is."

A thunderous boom shook the Argo II, though Jason couldn't tell where it was coming from. There were no other ships that he could see, and the sky was clear. There was no storm in the air—not one he could sense, anyway. 

"So..." Piper said, sounding unnerved. "These Pillars of Hercules. Are they dangerous?" 

Annabeth stayed focused on the white cliffs. "For Greeks, the pillars marked the end of the known world. The Romans said the pillars were inscribed with a Latin warning—"

"Non plus ultra," Percy said.

Annabeth looked surprised. "Yeah. Nothing Further Beyond. How did you know?"

Percy pointed. "Because I'm looking at it."

Directly ahead of them, in the middle of the straits, an island had shimmered into existence. It was a small, hilly mass of land, covered in forests and ringed with white beaches. Not very impressive compared to Gibraltar, but in front of the island, jutting from the waves about a hundred waves offshore, were two white Grecian columns as tall as their ship's masts. Between the columns, huge silver words glittered underwater—maybe an illusion, or maybe inlaid in the sand: NON PLUS ULTRA.

"Guys, do I turn around?" Leo asked nervously. "Or..." No one answered—probably because, like Jason, they'd noticed the figure standing on the beach. As the ship approached the columns, he saw a dark-haired man in purple robes, his arms crossed, staring intently at their ship as if he were expecting them. Jason couldn't tell much else about him from so far away, but judging from his posture, he didn't seem too thrilled. 

Even from a distance, Jason knew who it had to be. 

Frank inhaled sharply. "Could that be—?"

"Hercules," Jason said. "The most powerful demigod of all time."

The Argo II was only a few hundred yards from the columns now. 

"Need an answer," Leo said urgently. "I can turn, or we can take off. The stabilizers are working again. But I need to know quick—"

"We have to keep going," Annabeth said. "I think he's guarding these straits. If it's really Hercules, sailing or flying away wouldn't do any good. He'll want to talk to us."

"Won't Hercules be on our side?" Piper asked hopefully. "I mean... he's one of us, right?"

Jason grunted. "He was a son of Zeus, but when he died, he became a god. You can never be sure with gods."

Ophelia sighed. "Awesome," she muttered. "Eight of us against Hercules. And we haven't even had breakfast yet." 

"Eight plus a satyr, Imai!" Hedge said. "We can take him."

"I've got a better idea," Annabeth said. "We send ambassadors ashore. A small group—one or two at most. Try to talk with him."

"I'll go," Jason volunteered. "He's a son of Zeus. I'm a son of Jupiter. Maybe he'll be friendly to me."