CHIRON INVITED THEM inside, sending Drew back to her cabin. Ophelia was glad when the girl walked away—her excessive touchiness with Jason had been grating on her nerves, as was the fact that she didn't even understand why it pissed her off so much.
"Follow me," the centaur said. "We have lemonade."
Grapevines covered the walls of the living room, running across the ceiling as well. Ophelia wasn't sure how they were able to grow inside, especially given the season, but they were leafy green and bursting with bunches of red grapes.
Ophelia looked up at a stuffed leopard's head hung above the fireplace, so real-looking that its eyes seemed to move. It snarled at Jason, and Ophelia felt him nearly jump out of his skin next to her.
"Now, Seymour," Chiron chided. "Jason is a friend. Behave yourself."
Chiron threw a Snausage to the leopard, who snatched it up and licked his lips. "You must excuse the decor," Chiron said. "All this was a parting gift from our old director before he was recalled to Mount Olympus. He thought it would help us remember him. Mr. D has a strange sense of humor."
"Mr. D," Jason said. "Dionysus?"
"Mmm hmm." Chiron poured three glasses of lemonade, though his hands seemed to tremble slightly. He and Jason carried on a conversation about the old camp director and Seymour's origins, Ophelia watching in silence. She could tell that Chiron was wary of her as well, though he hadn't recognized her the way he recognized Jason. She supposed that was a good thing—he had said Jason was supposed to be dead.
"So, Jason, Ophelia," Chiron said. "Would you mind telling me—ah—where you're from?"
"I wish we knew," Jason sighed.
Ophelia let Jason tell the story, only chiming in when he left out a detail or she needed to speak from her own experience. Chiron didn't react aside from nodding encouragingly for either of them to continue.
When Jason was done, Chiron took a sip of his lemonade. "You only remember each other?" he asked for clarification.
Ophelia nodded. "Just names," she muttered, looking over at Jason briefly. "Everything else is... blank."
"I see," Chiron said. "Well, you must have questions for me."
"I have one," Ophelia spoke up. "Any reason in particular those... naiads? Is that what they're called? Is there a reason they tried to drown me?"
Chiron regarded her with inquisitive eyes. "They tried to drown you?"
Ophelia nodded. "Yeah, they grabbed my wrists and tried to drag me down." She tried to push away the memory of panic that had flared up when the lake water hit her lungs. "Is that... normal?"
"No," Chiron confessed. "That's highly unusual—naiads are typically friendly, especially the ones in the canoe lake. Though I suppose they could be on edge what with Percy being missing." At Ophelia's raised eyebrow, he elaborated, "Percy is a son of Poseidon. The naiads here are rather partial toward him—it would make sense that they're agitated now that he's missing."
Jason frowned. "But they helped Piper and Leo back to the surface," he said, which was news to Ophelia. "It was like they targeted Ophelia."
"That is... strange," Chiron said quietly. "I will have a talk with them. Until then, it may be best to steer clear of the lake."
"That won't be a problem," Ophelia muttered.
"Do you have any other questions?" Chiron asked.
"Uh, yeah," Jason admitted. "What did you mean when you said I should be dead?"
Chiron studied him with concern. "Do either of you know what the marks on your arms mean? The color of your shirt, Jason? Do you remember anything?"
Ophelia shook her head.
"No, nothing," Jason said.
"Do you know where you are?" Chiron asked. "Do you understand what this place is, who I am?"
"You're Chiron the centaur," Jason said. "I'm guessing you're the same one from the old stories, who used to train heroes like Heracles."
"And this is a camp for demigods," Ophelia said, "children of the Olympian gods."
"So you believe those gods still exist?" Chiron asked.
"Yes," Jason answered immediately. Ophelia felt the same confidence, though she didn't know where it came from. "I mean, I don't think we should worship them or sacrifice chickens to them or anything, but they're still around because they're a powerful part of civilization. They move from country to country as the center of power shifts—like they moved from Ancient Greece to Rome."
"I couldn't have said it better." Something in Chiron's voice had changed. "So you already know the gods are real. You have both already been claimed, haven't you?"
"Maybe," Jason answered.
"We can't remember," Ophelia said.
The leopard on the wall snarled, and Chiron studied them for a moment, waiting. Ophelia realized after a moment that Chiron had switched to another language, and she and Jason understood it fluently.
"Quis erat—" Jason faltered, as if the language was automatic. "What was that?"
"You know Latin," Chiron observed. "Most demigods recognize a few phrases, of course. It's in their blood, but not as much as Ancient Greek. None can speak Latin fluently without practice."
Ophelia frowned, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that she could speak Latin, of all languages. It felt so familiar on her tongue as she spoke it, in her ears when Jason and Chiron did.
"I taught your namesake, you know—the original Jason," Chiron said. "He had a hard path. I've seen many heroes come and go. Occasionally, they have happy endings. Mostly, they don't. It breaks my heart, like losing a child every time one of my pupils dies. But you two are unlike any pupils I've ever taught. Your presence here could be a disaster."
"Thanks," Jason muttered. "You must be an inspiring teacher."
"You should look into motivational speaking if you get bored here," Ophelia grumbled.
Chiron sighed quietly. "I am sorry. But it's true. I had hoped after Percy's success—"
"Percy Jackson, you mean," Jason said. "Annabeth's boyfriend, the one who's missing."
"The one the naiads actually like," Ophelia added with only a touch of bitterness.
Chiron nodded. "I hoped after he succeeded in the Titan War and saved Mount Olympus, we might have some peace. I might be able to enjoy one final triumph, a happy ending, and perhaps retire quietly. I should have known better. The last chapter approaches, just as it did before. The worst is yet to come."
A heavy blanket of gloom seemed to rest over the entire room.
"Ooo-kay," Jason said. "So—last chapter, happened before, worst yet to come. Sounds fun, but can we get back to the part where I'm supposed to be dead? I don't like that part."
"I'm afraid I can't explain, my boy. I swore on the River Styx and on all things sacred that I would never..." Chiron frowned. "But you're both here, a violation of the same oath. That, too, should not be possible. I don't understand. Who would've done such a thing? Who—"
Seymour howled, his mouth freezing halfway. The fire stopped crackling, its flames hardening like red glass. Everything seemed to just... stop.
"Chiron?" Jason asked. "What's going—"
Chiron was frozen, too. Jason and Ophelia stood up, but Chiron's eyes didn't waver. His mouth was open mid-sentence, and he sat there, not blinking or even breathing from the looks of it.
"Tell me you're seeing this, too," Jason whispered, reaching for Ophelia's hand.
She squeezed it tightly. "Frozen centaur? Yeah, I see it."
Jason, a voice spoke. Ophelia.
A dark mist poured from Seymour's mouth. Storm spirits, she thought, her free hand going to her pocket and taking her compass out. She and Jason both summoned their weapons.
The mist shaped itself into a woman in black robes. Her face was hooded, but her eyes glowed in the darkness. Over her shoulders was a goat-skin cloak, falling down her back and brushing the floor. Ophelia recognized the cloak for some reason, and she knew somehow that it was important—that it was much more than a strange fashion choice.
Would you attack your patron, Jason? the woman chided. Her voice seemed to echo in Ophelia's mind, bypassing her ears entirely. Lower your swords.
"Who are you?" Jason demanded. "How did you—?"
Our time is limited. My prison grows stronger by the hour. It took me a full month to gather enough energy to work even the smallest magic through its bonds. I've managed to bring you two here, but now I have little time left, and even less power. This may be the last time I can speak to either of you.
"You're in prison?" Jason questioned, still not lowering his sword. "Look, I don't know you, and you're not my patron."
You know me, the woman insisted. I have known you since your birth, Jason.
"I don't remember," Jason said. "I don't remember anything."
No, you don't, she agreed. Neither of you do. That was also necessary. Long ago, Jason, your father gave me your life as a gift to placate my anger. He named you Jason, after my favorite mortal. You belong to me, Jason. And unfortunately, with that little oath you swore to each other, I had no choice but to send her as well or risk everything falling apart.
"Whoa," Jason said. "I don't belong to anyone."
Now is the time to pay your debt, she said. Find my prison. The compass will lead you some of the way, but you will have to find my prison yourselves. Free me, or their king will rise from the earth, and I will be destroyed. You will never retrieve your memories.
"You stole our memories?" Ophelia asked, her eyes narrowing at the hooded woman. "And you want us to help you?"
You have until sunset on the solstice. Four short days. Do not fail me.
The dark woman dissolved, the mist curling into Seymour's mouth.
Time unfroze. Seymour's howl tapered off into a cough. The fire crackled to life and Chiron continued, "—would dare to bring you here?"
"My guess is the lady in the mist," Ophelia muttered.
Chiron looked up at them in surprise. "Weren't you just sitting... why are your swords drawn?"
"I hate to tell you this," Jason said, "but I think your leopard just ate a goddess."
He proceeded to Chiron what had happened when time froze.
"Oh, dear," Chiron murmured. "That does explain a lot."
"It does?" Ophelia asked. "Care to fill us in?"
"Please," Jason added.
Before Chiron could say anything else, the front door to the Big House blew open and Annabeth and another girl, a redhead, burst in, dragging an unconscious Piper between them.
"What happened?" Ophelia asked, rushing over to them with Jason close behind, both of their swords abandoned on the coffee table. "What's wrong with her?"
"Hera's cabin," Annabeth gasped, like they'd run all the way to the house. "Vision. Bad."
The redhead looked up, and Ophelia saw tears on her cheeks. "I..." She gulped. "I think I may have killed her."
❖
The redhead had not, in fact, killed Piper—she was still breathing, though she couldn't seem to wake up. Ophelia didn't like the sight of the girl so pale and sickly, as if Death had come for her but stepped out of the room to take a call before he finished reaping Piper's soul. Ophelia was positive she didn't know the girl, not like she knew Jason, but they had survived a battle with storm spirits and a chariot crash within the span of just a few hours—things like that bonded people.
Chiron put his hand on Piper's forehead, grimacing. "Her mind is in a fragile state. Rachel, what happened?"
The redhead, Rachel, shook her head slightly. "I wish I knew," she said. "As soon as I got to camp, I had a premonition about Hera's cabin. I went inside. Annabeth and Piper came in while I was there. We talked, and then—I just blanked out. Annabeth said I spoke in a different voice."
"A prophecy?" Chiron asked.
"No. The spirit of Delphi comes from within. I know how that feels. This is like long distance, a power trying to speak through me."
Annabeth ran into the room carrying a leather pouch. She knelt next to Piper. "Chiron, what happened back there—I've never seen anything like it. I've heard Rachel's prophecy voice. This was different. She sounded like an older woman. She grabbed Piper's shoulders and told her—"
"To free her from a prison?" Jason offered, sharing a look with Ophelia.
Annabeth stared at him. "How did you know that?"
Chiron made a strange three-fingered gesture over his heart, like a ward against evil. Ophelia tried to ignore the unsettling feeling it gave her. "Jason, Ophelia, tell them. Annabeth, the medicine bag, please."
Chiron trickled drops from a medicine vial into Piper's mouth as Jason explained the vision he and Ophelia had witnessed of the woman who claimed to be Jason's patron.
"Does this happen often?" Ophelia chimed in when he was finished talking. "Supernatural phone calls from convicts demanding you bust them out of jail?"
"Patron," Annabeth said, looking at Jason with a frown. "Not your godly parent?"
"No, she said patron. She also said my dad had given her my life," Jason said.
Annabeth's frown deepened. "I've never heard of anything like that before. You said the storm spirit on the skywalk—he claimed to be working for some mistress who was giving him orders, right? Could it be this woman you saw, messing with you?"
"I don't think so," Jason said. "If she were my enemy, why would she be asking for my help? She's imprisoned. She's worried about some enemy getting more powerful. Something about a king rising from the earth on the solstice—"
Annabeth looked at Chiron, her face losing its color. "Not Kronos. Please tell me it's not that."
Chiron was quiet for a moment, checking Piper's pulse before he finally answered, "It is not Kronos. That threat is ended. But..."
"But what?" Annabeth asked.
Chiron closed his medicine bag. "Piper needs rest. We should discuss this later."
"Or now," Ophelia said with a frown. "You said the greatest threat was coming. The last chapter?"
"You can't possibly mean something worse than an army of Titans, right?" Jason asked.
"Oh," Rachel said, her voice small. "Oh, dear. The woman was Hera. Of course. Her cabin, her voice. She showed herself to Jason and Ophelia at the same moment."
"Hera?" Annabeth looked downright murderous. "She took you over? She did this to Piper?"
"I think Rachel's right," Jason said. "The woman did seem like a goddess. And she wore this—this goatskin cloak. That's the symbol of Juno, isn't it?"
"It is?" Annabeth scowled. "I've never heard that."
Chiron nodded. "Of Juno, Hera's Roman aspect, in her most warlike state. The goatskin cloak was a symbol of the Roman soldier."
"So Hera is imprisoned?" Rachel asked. "Who could do that to the queen of the gods?"
Annabeth crossed her arms. "Well, whoever they are, maybe we should thank them. If they can shut up Hera—"
"Annabeth," Chiron warned, "she is still one of the Olympians. In many ways, she is the glue that holds the gods' family together. If she truly has been imprisoned and is in danger of destruction, this could shake the foundations of the world. It could unravel the stability of Olympus, which is never great even in the best of times. And if Hera has asked Jason and Ophelia for help—"
"Fine," Annabeth grumbled. "Well, we know Titans can capture a god, right? Atlas captured Artemis a few years ago. And in the old stories, the gods captured each other in traps all the time. But something worse than a Titan...?"
"Hera said she'd been trying to break through her prison bonds for a month," Jason said.
"Which is how long Olympus has been closed," Annabeth said. "So the gods must know something bad is going on."
Jason sighed, a look of frustration on his face. "But why use her energy to send Ophelia and me here?" he asked. "She wiped our memories, plopped us into the Wilderness School field trip, and sent you a dream vision to come pick us up. Why are we so important? Why not just send up an emergency flare to the other gods—let them know where she is so they can bust her out?"
"The gods need heroes to do their will down here on earth," Rachel said. "That's right, isn't it? Their fates are always intertwined with demigods."
"That's true," Annabeth said, "but Jason's got a point. Why them? Why take their memories?"
"I'd like to know that myself," Ophelia muttered.
"Piper's involved somehow," Rachel said. "Hera sent her the same message—Free me. And Annabeth, this must have something to do with Percy's disappearance."
Annabeth looked at Chiron, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why are you so quiet, Chiron? What is it we're facing?"
Chiron looked as if he'd aged ten years in a matter of minutes. "My dear, in this, I cannot help you. I am so sorry."
Annabeth blinked. "You've never... you've never kept information from me. Even the last Great Prophecy—"
"I will be in my office," Chiron announced, his voice heavy. "I need some time to think before dinner. Rachel, will you watch the girl? Call Argus to bring her to the infirmary, if you'd like. And Annabeth, you should speak with Jason and Ophelia. Tell them about—about the Greek and Roman gods."
"But..."
Chiron turned away, heading out of the room and down the hallway. Annabeth muttered something in Greek that Ophelia suspected wasn't too kind toward centaurs.
"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I think us being here—I don't know. We've messed things up coming to the camp, somehow. Chiron said he'd sworn an oath and couldn't talk about it."
Ophelia frowned, wanting to add that neither she nor Jason had asked to come to the camp, but she bit her tongue—it wasn't the time.
"What oath?" Annabeth demanded. "I've never seen him act this way. And why would he tell me to talk to you about the gods..." Her voice trailed off, looking at the two gold swords lying on the coffee table. She touched Jason's gingerly, like it might be hot. "Are these gold? Do you remember where you got it?"
Ophelia shook her head, Jason doing the same. "We don't remember anything," she said.
Annabeth nodded like she'd come up with a rather desperate plan. "If Chiron won't help, we'll need to figure things out ourselves. Which means... Cabin Fifteen. Rachel, you'll keep an eye on Piper?"
"Sure," Rachel promised. "Good luck, you three."
"Hold on," Jason said. "What's in Cabin Fifteen?"
Annabeth stood. "Maybe a way to get your memories back."
❖
it's gonna be a while before we get to ophelia's backstory but boy oh boy is it ripe with tragedy. (she has been... through it)
hope you enjoyed the chapter!