IF there was ever a lucky day for Aza-Everett, it certainly wasn't the one that began in a cold sweat. She knew how the day would fare from the start, as soon as she found a new hole in her brown leather jacket – which wasn't un-prone from tears, she had to acknowledge, but combined with the way she banged her knee on the end-table and tripped over a sword, couldn't lead to a good day. It only seemed to go downhill from there.
It hadn't been long after Nico, Reyna and Gleeson left with the Athena Parthenos that the remaining crew members – namely, Percy, Annabeth and Aza – began trying to contact Camp to no avail. It was only the early hours of the morning as she threw her drachma at the floor for what seemed like the hundredth, where it ricocheted off the wood and bounced from the edge of her bed (narrowly missing Jason's shoulder).
"Take my offering, you stupid rainbow goddess!" Aza stomped the golden coin with each word, "Take – my – stupid – offering! Show me Camp! Show it to me, or I swear–"
"Can I stop?" Jason asked, and he shifted to sit atop her bed in order to avoid any further close-calls. He paused misting the air with a squirt bottle, "I mean – it's just that... we know Iris Messages haven't exactly been reliable, and I don't think she'll be inclined to help if you keep calling her the 'stupid rainbow goddess.'"
Aza's voice was sharper than the knife she itched to throw at the drachma, "I wouldn't call her that if she actually took my offering and showed me Camp!"
She threw her hands into the air and shook her fist at the ceiling, "Just show me my stupid cabin! Show me Clarisse! Show me Sherman-Fucking-Yang, for all I care – I'm giving you one last chance: connect me with Camp before I connect my fist –"
" – Aza!" Jason placed the squirt bottle on the floor and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Love, please stop threatening Arcus – Iris, sorry. At this point, I think we can assume it won't work. I'm sorry. Look, it's almost breakfast, and then we have to leave. We can try again tomorrow, I promise."
Aza crossed the room to sit beside him. "What if tomorrow isn't good enough? Time is a resource we can't afford to waste, Jason."
He rested one of his palms atop her knee and squeezed it gently. Though she'd always been hotheaded, recently his girlfriend had been a taut string about to snap: just like in the nightmares Gaea tortured him with. Aza would always begin so bravely, with a beautiful sneer upon her face, and she would fall just the same. Their Achilles to the end, and just as quick to anger. Just as thirsty for vengeance.
"You have to trust us, Aza," He finally shrugged, "You have all this faith in yourself, but where's your faith in us?"
"I do," Aza's brows sewed together, and her head whipped around, "It's not a matter of my faith in you. I – It's that... I can't protect them. I can protect you, and I can protect everyone on this ship, but not them. I don't like feeling out of control, Jase."
He leaned closer, "Can I tell you a secret? No one does. I –"
"Don't patronize me," Aza stood and rolled her eyes, "I'm not an idiot: I know everyone likes having control. But you don't get it, Jase. My job is to protect you. I'll never be nearly as important as you, the Roman golden boy, or Percy – who decided the fate of Olympus – or Annabeth, who designed an entirely new palace. Or Frank, as a praetor. And I know that. And I'm okay with that. But, it means that I have to get you there. Do you know how many monsters I've fought alone, because I knew my chances – while marginally slim – were greater than my friends? How many blows I've taken for all of you? Don't you remember Lycaon?"
"You do a lot for us, but don't diminish how we feel," Jason's eyebrows sewed together and he, too, stood, "Don't you think we'd be devastated if you got hurt? Do you really think Percy, or Annabeth, or I could carry on as if nothing happened? If you don't consider that, you're selfish."
"I'm being selfish," Aza repeated incredulously, her brows raising to her hairline. She folded her arms over her chest, "Thanks, Jason, really: I feel so understood. Anything else you'd like to get off your chest?"
He sucked his teeth. Aza's head pulled back, and her voice held an edge of warning, "Anything else, Jason?"
This wasn't how she thought her morning would start. She wished the clock would rewind, and the sun could sink back below the horizon. Then again, the Lord of Time had never been an ally.
"Why don't you tell me, Aza," her boyfriend threw his hands into the air and laughed in disbelief. He rolled his eyes and licked his lips, "What secrets are you keeping from me now? What aren't you going to tell me until it's almost too late? That's how it goes, right? We're supposed to be a team –"
" –We are –" she spluttered helplessly.
"So why don't you tell me what happened in Sparta? I've only heard the same vague, pardon my language, bullshit you've given everyone else."
Her face fell, and the words had barely left Jason's mouth before he wished he could take them all back; but lightning scorches the earth with no regret, leaving nothing but smoldering remains. Perhaps it's because the sky and the ground are lovers, and lightning is their only way to touch, but even love can burn you. Her voice was low, "Get out."
Jason froze. His girlfriend had been unpredictable since they left the House of Hades, but she'd never spoken to him in the same growl, as though it were a final warning before she drew her blade. The same way she spoke to her enemies. "Why?"
"Because I don't need to deal with this right now, Jason!" Aza clenched her hands into fists and did her best to suck in a deep breath. "I am so incredibly stressed out, and right now I just – I just can't," she scoffed. "What happened in Sparta doesn't concern anyone. All that matters is I have the shield."
Jason crossed the room and looked over his shoulder as he opened the door, "I guess what hurts the most is I feel like we're not a team anymore. You don't have to tell me everything, but something would be nice. We're meeting on the deck at eight. I guess I'll see you then."
Aza hurled her pillow across the room after the door shut. She picked it up, and with one hand – her left, with only three fingers – she held it against the wall. With the other, she punched it until her hand grew swollen.
She had always been alone, even when she was with others. Stuck in her mind, with words that tried to claw out her throat, only to be smothered by a silver tongue. She could never share the darker parts of her soul – the ones that taunted her as the stars twinkled out her window. The ones that made her who she was, locked away with a long-lost key.
Why couldn't she tell him?
If there was only one good thing to come about her day, it was the knowledge that old age would never best Jason's handsomeness. Sure, his skin folded and sagged and his jaw softened considerably, and his hair was dry straw. His cheekbones no longer cast a shadow, but his eyes were alight with life despite a shockingly feeble frame: his back curved into a crescent moon as he leaned against his gladius, disguised as a dusty walking stick.
If she had to choose a second thing to make her day more bearable, it was the way Jason met her eyes just before Hazel's fingertips aged him seventy years. The angle of his lid and the hesitant raise of his brow meant everything: we have bigger problems. Her response was similar, and it meant they were okay. The soft angle of her lips, pointed towards her jaw, reassured him.
Even for her, the hike was terrible. She held Jason's hand and slowly guided him up the path, despite his gnarled fingers and stench of mothballs. Age was no match for his beauty nor his stubbornness. Once his lungs began to rattle like a pack-a-day smoker, Aza slipped her hand under his and guided him up the hill.
"We're almost there," Piper's smile was nervously genuine, despite the look she gave Aza that clearly said otherwise, "You're doing great."
Aza smothered a laugh in her free hand. It was easy for them to say: Piper, Annabeth and her were disguised as Greek serving maidens, dressed in sleeveless white gowns. Though Aza despised the dress, which she squeezed with her elbows and biceps to keep positioned on her chest, she was grateful to keep her physique. The only great difference was the pile of dark hair at the top of her head, which Annabeth twisted into a spiral and adorned with a golden band; she forced herself to tolerate the flyaways and stray hairs that beat against her temples.
Her eyes, too, were hidden by Hazel's magic; as were Piper's. She was only reminded when Jason nudged her, "It's odd to see you with brown eyes. You look so different."
Aza chuckled, "You're one to talk, old-timer."
She wanted to claw the dress off and burn it in a ditch – she'd toss in the silver bracelets for good measure – but at least she was still sixteen. A different sixteen year-old, she thought. With more jewelry than she owned on her right wrist alone and contemptful eyes, the thought struck Aza like lightning: she looked like a descendant of Aphrodite
Jason leaned against a cedar tree and wiped his sweaty forehead, "This is the worst idea ever. Hazel's magic is too strong. If I have to fight, I'll be useless."
"Why do you think we brought Aza?" Piper snickered to herself and shied away from his sharp glare; she sucked in her teeth and met Annabeth's eyes.
Annabeth, who had to hunch in order to keep her dress from slipping, eased the tension as quickly as she recognized it, "It won't come to that," she brushed away a few of the stray hairs that came loose, dancing upon the nape of her neck like a weeping willow, "We'll infiltrate the palace, get the information we need and get out. No unnecessary fights."
Though the last words were clearly directed towards the daughter of Phobos, as if commanding a dog, her friends had enough compassion to nod as well. Piper placed her amphora, the ceramic wine jar which hid her sword, on the ground. "We can rest for a second. Catch your breath, Jason."
Aza rubbed Jason's back whilst he caught his breath. He spat, "Stupid Ithaca," and spittle flew from his lips to the dirt.
She looked away to spare him the embarrassment. The island was larger than she expected, with chalky white slopes and rocky beaches lined the sea. Red-roofed houses and stucco buildings nestled comfortably against the shore. The hills were forested, dotted with cherry and cedar trees, and the grass was greener than Camp, which had nymphs to feed it. The breeze smelled like the poppies and wildflowers that brushed against their ankles. It would have been nicer, Aza thought, if it weren't well over a hundred degrees and humid enough to curl her hair.
"You're sure this is the right hill?" Jason wheezed, "Seems kind of – I don't know – quiet."
Piper raised a hand to block the sun and studied the ridge. She shrugged, "The ruins are up there. I saw them in Katoptris' blade. And you heard what Hazel said. 'The biggest –'"
"The biggest gathering of evil spirits she's ever sensed," Jason groaned and placed a hand on his lower back as he straightened, "Yeah, sounds awesome."
Aza wished they were wrong, but her silent woes often went unanswered. When Piper's blade, Hazel's senses and especially Annabeth's instincts pointed in the same direction, there were no other options she could see. At the ancient palace of Odysseus, a horde of evil spirits awaited Gaea's orders.
Annabeth readjusted her golden belt. "I hope our disguises hold up. Those suitors were nasty at best when they were alive. If they find out we're demigods –"
"They won't," Aza's voice was firm, though her uncertainty was clearer than the ocean waters beside them, "Hazel's magic will hold up. Everything will go smoothly."
It was highly unlikely the day would go well, Aza thought. The suitors would be less than pleased to see Jason, disguised as an old beggar; Annabeth coached him through his role, but their success lay with the suitors' reaction.
"Well," Jason steadied himself with his walking stick and gave his girlfriend a dry smile, "If I look half as old as I feel, my disguise is perfect. Let's go."
Aza's forehead was sticky with sweat as they neared the peak, and the muscle she pulled half-way up screamed. As they grew closer, she understood what Hazel sensed; it was neither fear nor panic that radiated from over the hill. Dread dropped a weight in her stomach as the reek of death reached inflamed her nerves. The others didn't seem to notice.
As they reached the top of the ridge, Aza took each of their fears to ensure it didn't impair them. Selfishly, she enjoyed the rush of power and the instantly smothered russet glow to her tanned skin. Annabeth gave her a soft smile. "Almost there. Let's –"
An explosion shook the hillside, and the birds took flight. Somewhere over the ridge a crowd roared in approval, almost louder than the explosion: the sound made Aza's skin crawl. It echoed in her ears, combined with the Colosseum's spectral cheers. Jason placed his free hand on his forearm and squeezed it gently as the two exchanged a dark look.
"That can't be anything good," Annabeth broke the silence.
Aza met her stormy eyes and shrugged, "Sounds like a party. Let's go crash it."
The unfortunate truth about being a demigod, Aza had come to find, was luck's evasion; it danced across their fingertips and floated away like a dandelion in the wind before they could catch it. Perhaps Tyche enjoyed the chase. Unfortunately, situations were always worse than even their darkest estimates. Maybe it was simply Aza who brought such misfortune to them.
They crouched in the olive bushes, stalking the suitors with predatory eyes. The ruins were a mass of crumblings stone walls choked with weeds and moss, with a withered central courtyard smothered by brambles. However, imposed over the ruins like another layer of reality, a spectral mirage of Odysseus's palace in its finest glory glimmered. It was three stories tall, made from white stucco walls lined with balconies; the central atrium featured a marble fountain and bronze braziers in each corner.
A dozen banquet tables lay in front of them, with over two hundred spirits lounging about. Spectral serving girls, dressed in the same fashion as Aza, Piper and Annabeth, dashed away from transparent tunic-clad purple ghosts, like nymphs dancing just out of a satyr's reach. The more nauseating spirits had decayed flesh and matted hair, like walking corpses; a few walked around like regular mortals, dressed in togas and business suits.
"Looks like an out-of-control zombie frat party," Jason mumbled to Aza, eliciting a quiet laugh quickly smothered by Annabeth's hand.
In the center of the atrium, a grey-skinned ghoul in a tattered Greek tunic paraded through the crowd, holding a marble bust above his head like a trophy. The spirits cheered and slapped him on the back, and as he grew closer Aza noticed the arrow sprouting from his Adam's apple – Antinous, she assumed. The leader of the suitors. Jason gripped her arm, and she squinted to recognize the bust of Zeus the spirit held.
"Our next offering," Antinous declared, with a gravelly voice, "Let us feed the Earth Mother!"
The spirits erupted into cheers and pounded their cups as Antinous made his way towards the central fountain, and it was only then that Aza realized it wasn't spewing water – instead a geyser of sand shot upwards, arcing in a curtain like a spurt of water. He heaved the bust into the fountain, which disintegrated as it passed through the sand. For a moment, the sand glimmered gold: the color of ichor. The mountain rumbled with another explosion, as if belching.
Jason clenched his walking stick. "That guy just disintegrated my dad. Who does he think he is?"
Aza patted his shoulder, her lips curving into a crescent-moon, "You tell him, Jase. And if all goes wrong, add a sword to match that arrow."
"Aza," Annabeth snapped, "we stick to the plan. If anything goes wrong, we stick to the back-up plan. Okay?"
Aza wasn't a fan of the back-up plan. Leo gave them a birthday-candle sized flare that would shoot white sparks, to be used if any of them got into trouble. She and her friends would only have a few seconds to take cover before Greek fire and bronze shrapnel rained upon the ruins. She'd rather they take their chances with the suitors.
"Aza – I need you to say 'okay,' okay?" Annabeth snapped and curled her finger for Aza to meet her stormy eyes – they dared her to say anything else.
"Okay," Aza huffed with a roll of her eyes, "That's Antinous, right? The guy with the arrow in his neck – the really annoying, obnoxious one. Didn't Odysseus shoot him? You'd think he'd get the message to keep clear."
Piper winced, "And you'd think it'd keep a guy down. What about the others? Why are there so many?"
"I don't know," it was rare Annabeth sounded genuinely befuddled, "Newer recruits for Gaea, I guess. Some must have come back to life before we closed the Doors of Death. Some are merely spirits."
Annabeth and Aza made a three-fingered claw and pushed it out from their chest at the goddess' name. The two, and Percy, knew the others didn't understand – it was clear when Piper and Jason shared a slight roll of their eyes – but they had been taught and shown that names held power; it was risky, especially in a place as rank with evil, to draw such attention.
"Some are ghouls," Jason pointed at a few, "The ones with grey skin and gaping wounds, like Antinous. I've fought their kind before."
"Can I kill them?" Aza brushed aside some loose strands and gave her boyfriend a wolfish smile.
"No, you may not, but theoretically you could," Jason cleared his throat and held up a finger to hack out a cough. "But not easily. They're strong, fast and intelligent. Also, they eat human flesh."
"Fantastic," Annabeth grimaced. "I don't see any option except to stick to the plan. Split up, infiltrate, find out why they're here. If things go bad –"
"Back up plan," Aza and Piper shared a grimace.
"Be careful down there," Jason said, and he squeezed Aza's hand.
She merely nodded in return and crept towards the left ridge; with a peek over her shoulder to ensure Piper followed, she made an arc around the fountain whilst Jason hobbled straight towards the feast.
Piper caught Aza's hand before they separated, "Most of them are going to ignore you. Some are going to flirt with you, Aza," She gave the dark-haired girl a placating smile. "Try not to rip their heads off."
The two girls wove into the crowd as seamlessly as they could, and the spirits were too drunk with false glory to cast a suspicious glance; though there were many second glances towards the serving girls with finely sculpted faces. Though Hazel's magic disguised them, nothing could transfigure Annabeth's solemn face, with dark eyes as she collected empty plates and goblets, as if she saw no reason to create a mask for the spirits.
Piper was the complete opposite, unsurprisingly – she worked the crowd easily, with a smile so bright it almost fooled even Aza; she, of course, found it hard to conceal a grimace as she refilled wine glasses. One of the suitors made the mistake of placing his hand on her forearm. Aza didn't need to touch him to remove his grip.
She didn't need protection, despite what the others thought.
It was unsurprising, she thought, that Percy pulled Jason aside just before they left, to a part of the ship she happened to be lurking. It took all her willpower not to jump out and strangle them when Percy suggested – no, articulated – she and Annabeth needed protection; that they needed a watchful eye.
Aza thought she was hiding it well. The nightmares and the dug-up memories persisted, either from Mania's touch or the House of Hades, but Aza's entire life revolved around keeping secrets and suppressing her emotions. She was losing her touch. '
She pushed away the thoughts and refilled another wine glass, just as Jason reached the edge of the crowd. Antinous cried, "Iros! Is that you, you old beggar?"
She let out a sigh of relief. Hazel's magic worked. He hobbled forward, "That's me! Guess I'm pretty late to the party. I hope you saved me some food?"
They reacted just as Aza expected, with sneers and jeered insults. One of the spirits snarled, "Ungrateful old panhandler. Should I kill him, Antinous?"
Aza's hand itched for her sword; she inched towards her cuff before forcefully restraining herself, her muscles rigid as leaned forward to refill yet another wine goblet. She kept a close eye on Antinous out of the corner of her eye as a yellow-toothed smile spread across his face. "I didn't expect to see you here, Iros. But I suppose even a beggar can sue for retribution. Drink. Eat."
Even Aza's nose turned away at the food from her safe distance; but her boyfriend hesitated only a moment before tearing into a grey chunk of meat and guzzled wine, spilling it down his grey beard. It wasn't easy for her to force a look of disgust, which she shared with one of the spirits whilst she refilled his wine.
She watched Piper from across the room and mirrored her action; Aza placed a hand on the shoulder of the next suitor and swung low, bringing her head level with his as she poured the wine. The spirit's smile might have been more endearing if his cheeks weren't rotted, and it only grew wider as Aza forced a smile and asked, "Is there anything else I can get you?"
She glanced at Piper again, who looked far more natural as she flitted amongst the suitors; when she met Aza's eyes she gave a thumbs up that rose to slice her throat. Aza stifled a laugh as she turned back to the suitor; he examined her with a raised brow and a silky smile. "You have a pleasing voice, girl. To whom do you belong?"
She resisted the urge to rip the rotted piece of flesh from his jaw. "Lord Jason," Aza wanted to slap herself; she hadn't been gifted with a silver tongue, "Of, uh, Corinth. I mean, King Aeetes, of course, but I was assigned... uh... to Jason?"
A dubious expression shadowed his face. "I did not know either would have business here –"
"Uh, they don't," she blinked rapidly and tried to force the charming smile back upon her lips, "It was so long ago – I'm, uh... on loan. Well, I have other wine to refill."
She scurried away and put her head down, weaving amongst the crowd in case the suitor thought her suspicious. Once she was sure he would have lost interest, she moved to the next table, closer to Jason, as he choked, "Who?"
Aza followed his gaze as she poured the next glass. Across the courtyard, by the marble fountain, a boy not much older than them stared at Antinous – and more importantly, Jason. The spirit's outline was blurry: she could make out a purple t-shirt, and even from a distance Aza didn't have to squint to make out the Roman tattoos on his arm.
She moved her way closer, a tendril of nerves bubbling from Jason. It stretched towards Aza as she refilled wine at the closest table; behind her, Annabeth stood only a table away, watching the two with stormy eyes.
Antinous waved a dismissive hand. "He's a Roman demigod. Lost his legions eagle in... Alaska, was it?" Aza didn't have to be a genius to place the pieces together, "Doesn't matter. Gaea lets him hang around. He insists he has some insight into defeating Camp Jupiter, but that's beside the point. Iros, you have yet to answer my question. Why should you be welcome amongst us?'
The fear that chained her boyfriend nearly suffocated Aza; she began to move before she could think. She hung her head over Antinous's shoulder and forced a pleasant voice, "More wine, my Lord?"
She hooked an ankle under one of his chair legs and yanked it backwards, pouring her wine down his back whilst he face-planted into his plate. His silverware clattered to the floor, and Aza subtly kicked the knife towards Jason with a sly wink before she straightened and placed a hand on the spirit's shoulder, "My Lord, I apologize –"
"Idiot girl! Choke on your apologies elsewhere!"
It was difficult to smother her sarcasm. "May I bring you a towelette? Your arrow is dripping."
"Leave! Before I make a show of you!"
Aza's eyes glimmered with challenge, and her hand once more itched towards her cuff; but she bowed her head to conceal a smirk and backed away quickly, "Of course, my Lord. A thousand apologies."
Jason stabbed the knife into the table, and the spirits jumped in symphony. His voice reverberated confidently, mixed with a guttural growl. "Why should you welcome me? Because I'm still running messages, you stupid wretches! I've just come up from the House of Hades to see what you're up to!"
His last sentence rang with such truth that it caused Antinous to pause. Aza gritted her teeth as the silence grew heavy, and the ghoul stared at Jason. As if it were a joke, Antinous asked, "You expect me to believe Gaea sent you – a beggar – to check up on us?"
Jason laughed. "I was the last to leave Epirus before the Doors of Death were closed! I saw the chamber where Clytius stood guard under a domed ceiling lined with tombstones. I walked the jewel-and-bone floors of the Necromanteion!"
Annabeth always told Aza that the best lie held a kernel of the truth, and she now believed it as the ghosts shifted and muttered. Jason jabbed a finger, "So, Antinous... maybe you should explain to me why you are worthy of Gaea's favor. All I see is a lazy, dawdling crowd of dead folk enjoying themselves and not helping the war effort. What should I tell the Earth Mother?"
The silence deafened them.