"WHAT DID ANNABETH MEAN?" Jason asked, trying to create some clarity in all this disarray. "When she said you convinced your siblings into bombing Mount Olympus?"
Aera trudged ahead. "What do you think she meant?"
"But how..." Jason questioned, struggling to process it, as he followed her. "...why would you do that?"
Aera's expression tightened. Jason thought she might disregard him again until she replied in a monotonous voice that resembled a robot reciting the lines programmed into its system, "The Titan's forces needed a way into the sacred city. Camp Half-Blood wouldn't surrender it, no matter how many monsters we sent, so..."
"You used them as collateral," Jason deduced. A shiver crawled down the back of his neck. "You knew they wouldn't want to hurt their own, so you sacrificed them."
Aera pitched him a bitter smile. "You're smarter than you look."
Jason wanted to say the same about Aera, whom he never would've imagined would be interested in warfare strategies, but he just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Aera would engage in such a heartless tactic. No wonder all the campers had been so on edge since she arrived. Not only were they resentful for what she did to her own brethren, but they were also afraid of what she was capable of.
After that exchange, Aera didn't try to flirt or even speak with Jason again as they continued towards the Big House. Jason assumed she was giving him silence to thoroughly access his options.
From the moment they had crash-landed into the lake, every molecule in his body seemed to be alerting him that he was in enemy territory. Something in his very bones told him he wasn't supposed to be here, that he was trespassing into unspeakably foreign grounds.
All things considered, it seemed to be a universally transparent fact to everyone at this camp that Jason wasn't the only intruder unwelcome here.
Every camper they passed on their way to the Big House seemed to have something to say about Aera. People would stop what they were doing and stare balefully in their direction. Jason heard all sorts of hushed speculations about why Aera was back at camp, if she was responsible for the disappearance of Percy Jackson, and what horrible punishments the gods had in store for her. Their amble through Camp Half-Blood made Jason feel more like he was transporting a convicted felon to a detention center rather than going to meet a camp director.
One group of campers even lowered their wooden swords in the middle of sparring to huddle together and disdainfully appraise Aera, whispering loud enough for her to hear.
"What's she doing here?" the first demanded.
Another shook their head. "Does she really think she can show up here and we'll forgive her just because she's got a pretty face?"
"Well, she certainly doesn't have anything else to offer."
"Do your eyes even work?" their friend chided. "She's even thinner than I remember. Looks like she hasn't eaten in days."
"And why would she get a tattoo?" the second continued. "It just make her look more pale. Her skin looks like an ataphoi's. It's just creepy."
"Guess Aera Kim's no longer the Helen of Troy of our generation," another snickered. "No wonder the gods didn't banish her. Going home to a mirror must have been enough punishment for her."
Their whole group erupted into cruel laughter.
Jason drew in a sharp breath and peered at Aera apprehensively. After watching Aera and Annabeth fight like wild animals, he braced himself to break up yet another fight or bear witness to some sort of malicious outburst.
To his ultimate astonishment, Aera turned away from the group. Without a word, she continued ambling straight ahead, as if she never heard them. Shocked, all Jason could do was keep up with her.
It couldn't have been easy for Aera to walk away like that. From what Jason could comprehend, Aera put a lot of pride into her appearance. Jason might not have agreed with her morales nor did he see her as someone he could trust, but he couldn't deny he felt a little sorry for her. After the morning Aera just had, battling storm spirits and nearly falling to her death twice, hearing others make fun of how she looked must have been rubbing salt in her open wounds.
Strolling in silence again, Jason wanted to say something to comfort her, but he didn't know what. Though Aera's face was expressionless, her shoulders were trembling. She was still drenched from head to toe. If his jacket weren't also still soaked, Jason would have offered it to her.
"Are you cold?" he asked gently.
Aera hit the brakes so fast, Jason almost bumped into her back. When she craned her neck around to look at him, all of the emotion was drained from her face as if a vacuum had sucked away every last crumb of her humanity. "You did not just ask me if I'm cold."
Jason froze, startled by her steely reaction. Was she mad at him? What did he do?
"Your clothes are still wet..." he justified, "It's winter."
Aera ignored him. Jason was confused as to why she would take offense to what he said. Maybe she was still hurt about what those guys had said earlier about her. What they had said was pretty messed up.
Jason inspected Aera warily. "Are you...are you OK?"
No response.
Coming here had already put Aera in a bad mood and hearing those words probably amplified it. Jason knew he probably should've said something...
"Do you..." he tried again, feeling like he was treading on thin ice, "...wanna talk about it?"
Aera stared him square in the eye. There was no telling what she was thinking. Jason's heart thumped in his chest.
Then Aera threw her head back and broke out in a fit of laughter.
"I'm totally messing with you!" Clutching her stomach, Aera started laughing so hard Jason thought her jaw might fall off. "You should've seen your face!" In between gasps of air, Aera mimicked Jason with an overdramatic, deep voice, "'Do you...wanna talk about it?'" Squealing like a dolphin, Aera clapped her hands in delight. "Oh my, gods! That was priceless!" Sighing contently, she dabbed a tear from the corner of her eye. "Who knew someone as a boring as you could be so hilarious?"
He was concerned for her and this is what he got? Called boring?
Jason crossed his arms. "I thought you were upset."
"Because of what those ugly gorgons said back there?" Aera asked dubiously, but her voice sounded higher-pitched than usual. She tossed her damp hair over one shoulder, spraying Jason with lake water. "Please, why would I care what they think about me? They have less game than Jacob from Twilight."
Jason flicked the water off his cheek. "I don't know who that is."
"You've never watched Twilight?" Aera gasped. "It's only the worst romance film in all of history."
"OK..." Jason said slowly. He didn't see why this was important.
"Aw," Aera cooed. "Are you mad at me?" She gave him puppy eyes, and Jason had to look away before he let her do something bad like steal his sword and try kill someone else with it again. "Don't be mad. You're cute when you're flustered."
Jason ran his hands through his hair. "I'm not flustered."
Aera looked like she was on the verge of another dolphin song.
"Whatever you say," she chimed, not even being able to keep a straight face for Jason's sake. Why did he even try? "Oh, by the way, Camp Half-Blood might have the tackiest interior designing in the world—no, the universe—but they do have magical borders that keep the outside weather out, you know."
Borders that keep the outside weather out? Jason mentally absorbed. Why did that sound so familiar?
"Besides," Aera added airily, "did you already forget I can control my own pulse, Johnny Bravo?"
Jason scowled. "Stop calling me that."
"What would you rather be called then?" Aera whined. "Peter Pan? Superman?" She glanced down at Jason's burnt bare foot. "Twinkletoes?"
"Um, no thanks," Jason answered firmly. "I don't need a nickname. Just Jason is fine."
"Alright, Just Jason." Aera's smile grew mischievous as she inched closer, unwinding his folded arms and looping one of her own around his. Even though she was covered in lake water, she somehow smelled like vanilla. "How about...instead of going to meet my un-little pony, we forget all about your totally tedious amnesia situation and you pack your handsome face and ripping biceps and go on a trip with me to Cabo?"
Aera batted her eyelashes at him. Her damp sleeve stuck to his bare arm like a second skin. Jason tried his best not to fall for her tricks again, but her warm brown eyes were seriously distracting.
Jason resorted to staring at the little mole on the left side of her jaw instead. It kind of resembled the shape of a heart. "Last I checked, you don't remember anything from last week either."
"What can I say?" Aera said breezily. "A girl moves on fast. Maybe even faster than the winds supporting us."
Jason almost wanted to smile. "Is that your way of thanking me for saving your life?"
"Mm..." Aera hummed, wrinkling her nose in thought. "...saving my life is a bit of a stretch, don't you think?" Aera turned her nose up at him. "You just...cushioned my fall."
"Right."
"I'm just saying," Aera said defensively. "This whole thing is a total snoozefest! I'd much rather be someplace sunny and tropical than stuck in this musty, dusty hole. Wouldn't you?"
"Whoever put us on that bus took my memories," Jason reminded, though he had to admit the prospect of someplace sunny and tropical did sound appealing. "I need them back."
"No, what you need is to relax, Johnny—" Jason raised his eyebrows at her. "—Just Jason—" Aera rolled her eyes. "I thought my speech was ominous enough to scare you away. Need another one?"
"Look, I appreciate it, but—"
"Suit yourself." Aera cut him off before he could even finish rejecting her offer. Jason hadn't even realized she was still holding his arm until she unlinked herself from him with a scowl terminating her previously lighthearted attitude.
"This is it. Ta-da." Her voice was completely void of enthusiasm. "The Big House."
It didn't look as musty and dusty as Aera foreboded, just a four-story manor painted baby blue with white trim. The wraparound porch had lounge chairs, a card table, and an empty wheelchair. Wind chimes carved into the designs of nymphs turned into trees as they gyrated. Jason could picture old people coming here for a summer vacation, lounging on the chairs and sipping prune juice while they recounted their life and watched the sunset.
Even so, the windows seemed to glare down at him like angry sets of eyes. The wide open doorway looked like it wanted to swallow him whole. On the highest gable, a bronze eagle weathervane spun in the wind and pointed south, as if telling him to turn around.
Jason voiced the largest notion revolving around his head in endless orbit. "I should not be here."
"You're absolutely right," Aera agreed, to Jason's surprise. "We should be in France instead. I heard their winters are so romantic."
"No," Jason said, his trepidation swelling, "I meant, I'm not supposed to be here."
"Think about it," Aera persisted. "France. The Eiffel Tower. Notre-Dame. Louvre Museum. You look like someone geeky enough to actually enjoy history." Aera stifled another giggle. "We can deal with this amnesia stuff later. How does that sound?"
"Sounds irresponsible," Jason said, unimpressed.
"Which is good—"
"Which is bad."
"—which is bad," Aera corrected herself. "But fun." She tilted her head at him, eyes sparkling. "You're a fun person, aren't you, Just Jason?"
Just Jason had to consciously remind himself to look away before he no longer had the power to. Aera's constant show of flirtation could only mean she was used to getting things this way, layering it on thick and flattering her victims into trusting her. He needed to be more careful around her. Especially now that he knew what she was capable of.
"Look," Jason said tartly. "I've got to figure out who took my memories and why. I don't have time to play your games."
"Which means you would if you did," Aera countered. When Jason lagged on a reply, she smiled dryly. "I think it's my turn to ask the questions now. Are you afraid of me?"
"No," Jason replied.
Aera held up her arm, showing him the tattoos on her wrist. "What do these ugly marks mean?"
"I don't know."
Aera put down her arm. "Do you know who I am?"
"I don't."
Aera nodded as if she had expected every single one of his answers.
"Want me to tell you what I know about all this?" Aera offered. "You're a terrible liar." Without warning, Aera pressed closer, setting her hand over Jason's heart. The butterflies came back to life in Jason's chest, itching him to run. "You do know. And you know me, or at least you have some idea." Jason tried to back away, but Aera grabbed the collar of his shirt with unexpected strength, trapping him in place. "So, spill it, Jason." All traces of Aera's playful nature were gone now as her eyes seemed to bore right into his soul. "What do you remember?"
All of a sudden, Jason felt a strong urge to pour out his whole heart to Aera. He wanted to confess how he was secretly scared of being left alone in this foreign territory and without his memories. He wanted to tell her how lost and helpless he felt deep inside, unable to grasp even a sliver of a notion of who he was.
Jason's internal radar was pinging wildly that he was in danger, but his heart was slowing down the longer Aera had her hands on him. He felt at ease with Aera so close to him, but there was also a little voice at the back of his head screaming at him to leave at once. Jason could only conclude Aera was working some kind of magic on him to make him want to talk, and if he didn't concentrate, his self-will would be completely compromised.
"You know me, don't you?" Aera interrogated, reading his face. Her previously warm brown eyes were now smoldering flames burning into his. "I'll ask you one more time, Jason. Who am I to you?"
Truth be told, Jason still couldn't make sense of that memory of Aera that he recalled on the Skywalk. It was obvious Aera had an extensive catalogue of enemies, but that didn't explain why Jason was one of them, and it definitely didn't add up to them getting matching tattoos together. Though, he was starting to believe those marks had more meaning than just a spur-of-the-moment, reckless decision...
That being said, Jason felt strangely protective over that memory of her. Even if he didn't understand why it included Aera, some fragment of him knew that memory must have held some sort of significance for him to have remembered it first, and he just wasn't ready to share that with her yet. Now that Jason was well-aware of Aera's track record of selfish persuasion that resulted in devastation, he wasn't going to let himself be another victim of it.
"We're not friends," Jason told her with difficulty. "I don't owe you any answers. You said it yourself. I'd be a fool if I trusted you."
Anger flashed across Aera's face. Her grip tightened into a fist on his shirt. Jason felt something cold squeezing his heart. Before he could think of an escape plan that didn't involve him whipping out his sword again, he heard footsteps on the front porch. No—not footsteps—the clopping of hooves.
Spite rippling across her face, Aera released Jason, who instantly coughed and gasped for air. Her eyes seemed to scrape from Jason to the source of the noise like iron on concrete. "Chiron." More venom dripped from her voice than water from her clothing.
Jason backed up so fast he almost tripped. Rounding the corner of the porch was a man on horseback. Except he wasn't on horseback—he was part of the horse. From the waist up he was human, with curly brown hair, a well-trimmed beard, and a quiver and bow strapped to his back. His head was so high he had to duck to avoid the porch lights, because from the waist down, he was a full white stallion.
"Ah, Aera," Chiron said cheerfully. "What a lovely surprise."
He started to smile until he saw Jason. The color leaked from his face.
"You..." The centaur's eyes flared like a cornered animal's. "You should be dead."
However, what unnerved Jason more than the centaur's presence, was the memory that came piercing into his brain like a spike upon hearing those words.
The memory was of Aera again, only this time she was sitting peacefully outside of a Parisian-style cafe. In between them was a table set with a flower vase in the middle, two plates of croissants, and a steaming cup of coffee.
Aera was wearing a pale blue dress that ruffled at her feet. Her silky black hair flowed down her back in elegant waves. It had little white flowers woven into it that made Jason think of a Disney princess. Jason had draped her shoulders with his jacket, but Aera's face was still rosy from the chilly morning breeze. Her lips were more pink than usual.
There were only a handful of other customers there, but most of them were seated indoors, leaving the two of them enough space to enjoy each other's company and indulge in the smell of the fresh pastries coming from inside. The early morning sun was mild and felt just the right amount of warm across Jason's skin. Their day had just begun and Jason was happy.
After taking three bites out of her croissant, Aera dabbed her lips with a cloth napkin before she rested her head delicately on her palm with her elbow on the table. Her attention was fully trained on listening to Jason speak, but her gaze wasn't filled with maleficent allure the way it had been earlier, it was filled genuine curiosity.
"You were raised by a wolf?" Aera grimaced at whatever he had just said. Jason remembered thinking it was cute when her nose scrunched up like that. "Well, I guess I can't really talk. Our camp is run by the original alcoholic and a four-thousand-year-old horse man." Jason must have reacted severely because Aera then appeased him with a small smile that almost seemed shy. "I mean, you should be dead before you ever meet that horse man. He's so—ugh." She shuddered.
Horse man. Jason now realized he had misinterpreted Aera's sentence in his memory. Not a man who rode horses, a man who was half horse. Horse man.
"OK." There was Aera's much more berating voice in the present again, yanking Jason back to reality. "I know he's a hideous horse man with absolutely no fashion sense at all, but can you please not do this right now?"
In the time Jason had blacked out in his own head, Aera had grabbed his arm again to keep him balanced. As Jason slowly started to regain his bearings, Aera observed him. If Jason didn't know any better, he might've thought she looked worried.
"Don't faint," Aera ordered. "It's annoying. I haven't even changed my clothes yet."
Jason couldn't respond. Too many questions were overwhelming his brain, but one stood out the most: What was he doing alone with Aera at a café?
Aera watched Jason a little longer before she glared up at the centaur. "You can't just tell people they should be dead, Chiron. You just gave him, like, a seizure or something."
"I'm..." Jason shook his head, trying to reorient his senses. He brushed Aera off. "I'm fine."
Jason was not fine. And he was pretty sure everyone knew that by now.