OPHELIA WAS GETTING really tired of her boyfriend almost dying. It was becoming a particularly nasty habit.
Something must have gone wrong while he was on duty fighting some of the wild venti that kept threatening the ship, because when she and the rest of the crew came up to the deck out of pure chance, he was blacked out and rocketing down toward the sea.
Only Piper's quick thinking and charmspeak saved his life. She yelled WAKE UP! with so much force even Ophelia felt like she could stay awake for three days straight on just a few hours of sleep. With a millisecond to spare, Jason had summoned the winds and avoided becoming a floating patch of demigod grease on the surface of the Adriatic.
Once back on board, Jason pulled Leo aside and suggested a course correction.
As they ate lunch, Jason told them about his midair dream-vision.
Afterward, everyone was quiet long enough for Coach Hedge to finish a peanut butter and banana sandwich, along with the ceramic plate.
The ship creaked as it sailed through the Adriatic, its remaining oars still out of alignment from the giant turtle attack. Every once in a while Festus the figurehead creaked and squeaked through the speakers, reporting the autopilot status in that weird machine language only Leo could understand.
"A note from Annabeth." Piper shook her head in amazement. "I don't see how that's possible, but if it is—"
"She's alive," Leo said. "Thank the gods and pass the hot sauce."
Frank frowned. "What does that mean?"
Leo wiped the chip crumbs off his face. "It means pass the hot sauce, Zhang. I'm still hungry."
Frank slid over a jar of salsa. "I can't believe Reyna would try to find us. It's taboo, coming to the ancient lands. She'll be stripped of her praetorship."
"If she lives," Hazel said. "It was hard enough for us to make it this far with eight demigods and a warship."
"And me." Coach Hedge belched. "Don't forget, cupcakes, you got the satyr advantage."
Everyone looked to Jason, who'd zoned out a little. Ophelia reached over and squeezed his arm.
"Jason?" Leo asked. "Argo II to Jason. Come in."
Jason blinked, realizing everyone was looking to him expectantly.
"Yeah, sorry." He touched the groove that Sciron had cut into his hair with a bullet. "Crossing the Atlantic is a hard journey, no doubt. But I'd never bet against Reyna. If anyone can make it, she will."
Piper circled her spoon through her soup. "Well, I'd love to see Reyna again," she said, and Ophelia didn't miss the way her cheeks were tinged red. "But how is she supposed to find us?"
Frank raised his hand. "Can't you just send her an Iris-message?"
"They're not working very well," Coach Hedge put in. "Horrible reception. Every night, I swear I could kick that rainbow goddess..."
He faltered. His face turned bright red.
"Coach?" Leo grinned. "Who have you been calling every night, you old goat?"
"No one!" Hedge snapped. "Nothing! I just meant—"
"He means we've already tried," Hazel intervened, and the coach shot her a grateful look. "Some magic is interfering... maybe Gaea. Contacting the Romans is even harder. I think they're shielding themselves."
Ophelia looked from Hazel to the coach, wondering what was going on with the satyr, and how Hazel knew about it.
Frank drummed his fingers on the table. "I don't suppose Reyna has a cell phone...? Nah. Never mind. She'd probably have bad reception on a pegasus flying over the Atlantic."
Ophelia thought about the Argo II's journey across the ocean, the dozens of near-fatal encounters they'd had. Thinking about Reyna making that journey alone—she couldn't decide if it was terrifying or awe-inspiring.
"She'll find us," Jason said confidently. "She mentioned something in the dream—she's expecting me to go to a certain place on our way to the House of Hades. I—I'd forgotten about it, actually, but she's right. It's a place I need to visit."
"And where is this place?" Ophelia asked.
"A town called Split," he answered.
"Split? Never heard of it."
"Yeah," Jason said. "In fact, we should be getting close. Leo?"
Leo punched the intercom button. "How's it going up there, buddy?"
Festus the figurehead creaked and steamed.
"He says maybe ten minutes to harbor," Leo reported. "Though I still don't get why you want to go to Croatia, especially a town called Split. I mean, you name your city Split, you gotta figure it's a warning to, you know, split. Kind of like naming your city Get Out!"
"Wait," Hazel said. "Why are we going to Croatia?"
Ophelia noticed that most of the crew seemed reluctant to meet her eyes. Since her Mist-trick against Sciron the bandit, everyone seemed a little nervous around her. Ophelia understood, even if she didn't agree. She'd pulled off some serious magic on the cliff, and according to Hazel, Pluto himself had appeared to her, which was what Romans typically called a bad omen.
But Ophelia was decidedly pro-whatever Romans decided were superstitions, mostly because the last time she'd watched someone get treated like a bad omen, it nearly killed her—twice.
Superstitions were bullshit anyway.
Leo pushed his chips and hot sauce aside. "Well, technically we've been in Croatian territory for the past day or so. All that coastline we've been sailing past is it, but I guess back in the Roman times it was called... what'd you say, Jason? Bodacious?"
"Dalmatia," Nico said, making Jason jump, his fingers locking around Ophelia's thigh in his flinch.
Ophelia covered her laugh with a cough.
Nico stepped forward out of the shadows, his dark eyes fixed on Jason. "Croatia used to be Dalmatia," Nico said. "A major Roman province. You want to visit Diocletian's Palace, don't you?"
Coach Hedge managed another heroic belch. "Whose palace? And is Dalmatia where those Dalmatian dogs come from? That 101 Dalmatians movie—I still have nightmares."
Frank scratched his head. "Why would you have nightmares about that?"
Coach Hedge looked like he was about to launch into a major speech about the evils of cartoon Dalmatians, but thankfully Jason jumped in.
"Nico is right," he said. "I need to go to Diocletian's Palace. It's where Reyna will go first, because she knows I would go there."
Piper raised an eyebrow. "And why would Reyna think that? Because you've always had a mad fascination with Croatian culture?"
Jason stared at his uneaten sandwich for a moment, his expression sad and nostalgic. Ophelia laid her hand over his on her leg.
"Reyna and I used to talk about Diocletian," he said. "We both kind of idolized the guy as a leader. We talked about how we'd like to visit Diocletian's Palace. Of course we knew that was impossible. No one could travel to the ancient lands. But still, we made this pact that if we ever did, that's where we'd go."
"Diocletian..." Leo considered the name, then shook his head. "I got nothing. Why is he so important?"
Frank looked offended. "He was the last great pagan emperor!"
Leo rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised you know that, Zhang?"
"Why wouldn't I? He was the last one who worshiped the Olympian gods, before Constantine came along and adopted Christianity."
Hazel nodded. "I remember something about that. The nuns at St. Agnes taught us that Diocletian was a huge villain, right along with Nero and Caligula." She looked askance at Jason. "Why would you idolize him?"
"He wasn't a total villain," Jason said. "Yeah, he persecuted Christians, but otherwise he was a good ruler. He worked his way up from nothing by joining the legion. His parents were former slaves... or at least, his mom was. Demigods know he was a son of Jupiter—the last demigod to rule Rome. He was also the first emperor to ever retire, like, peacefully, and give up his power. He was from Dalmatia, so he moved back there and built a retirement palace. The town of Split grew up around..."
He faltered when he looked at Leo, who was mimicking taking notes with an air pencil.
"Go on, Professor Grace!" he said, wide-eyed. "I wanna get an A on the test."
Ophelia snorted in amusement.
"Shut up, Leo," Jason said.
Piper sipped another spoonful of soup. "So why is Diocletian's Palace so special?"
Nico leaned over and plucked a grape. "It's said to be haunted by the ghost of Diocletian."
"A ghost," Ophelia muttered. "Lovely."
"A ghost who was a son of Jupiter, like me," Jason said. "His tomb was destroyed centuries ago, but Reyna and I used to wonder if we could find Diocletian's ghost and ask where he was buried... well, according to the legends, his scepter was buried with him."
Nico gave Jason a thin smile. "Ah... that legend."
"What legend?" Hazel asked.
Nico turned to his sister. "Supposedly Diocletian's scepter could summon the ghosts of the Roman legions, any of them who worshiped the old gods."
Leo whistled. "Okay, now I'm interested. Be nice to have a booty-kicking army of pagan zombies on our side when we enter the House of Hades."
"Not sure I would've put it that way," Jason muttered, "but yeah."
"We don't have much time," Frank warned. "It's already July ninth. We have to get to Epirus, close the Doors of Death—"
"Which are guarded," Hazel murmured, "by a smoky giant, an army of evil ghosts, and a sorceress who wants..." She hesitated. "Well, I'm not sure. But according to Pluto, she plans to 'rebuild her domain.' Whatever that means, it's bad enough that my dad felt like warning me personally."
Frank grunted. "And if we survive that, we still have to find out where the giants are waking Gaea and get there before the first of August. Besides, the longer Percy and Annabeth are in Tartarus—"
"I know," Jason said. "We won't take long in Split. But looking for the scepter is worth a try. While we're at the palace, I can leave a message for Reyna, letting her know the route we're taking to Epirus."
Nico nodded. "The scepter of Diocletian could make a huge difference. You'll need my help."
Ophelia sighed. "If ghosts are involved, I guess I'm in."
Nico didn't look particularly pleased with all of the company, but he nodded his acceptance.
Jason squeezed Ophelia's thigh in a silent thank you.
The ship's bell sounded. Festus creaked and whirred over the loudspeaker.
"We've arrived," Leo announced. "Time to Split."
Frank groaned. "Can we leave Valdez in Croatia?"
Jason stood. "Frank, you're in charge of defending the ship. Leo, you've got repairs to do. The rest of you, help out wherever you can. Nico, Ophelia, and I..." He faced the son of Hades. "We have a ghost to find."
❖
The Argo II had anchored in the bay along with six or seven cruise ships. As usual, the mortals didn't pay the trireme any attention; but just to be safe, Jason, Ophelia, and Nico hopped on a skiff from one of the tourist boats so they would look like part of the crowd when they came ashore.
At first glance, Split seemed like a cool place. Curving around the harbor was a long esplanade lined with palm trees. At the sidewalk cafes, European teenagers were hanging out, speaking a dozen different languages and enjoying the sunny afternoon.
Ophelia felt a tugging in her chest at the sight of them. There were so many people her age, all relaxed and smiling and hanging out with their friends. Their biggest worries were what to do later in the day or whether they'd put on enough sunscreen. They knew nothing about gods, monsters, or Mother Earth's plans to destroy the world.
Ophelia envied them, more than she thought she would. They were free to live without the fate of the world hanging over them. Would Ophelia and her friends ever get that? Even if they managed to stop Gaea in time, would they ever know a life of peace?
Ophelia wanted to say yes, of course we will. But she'd thought the same thing after the Second Titan War, and not even half a year later, she and Jason were plucked out of Camp Jupiter and thrown into yet another life-and-death war.
Was there a happy ending at the end of all of it? Or would they continue to fight for the gods until fate picked them all off one-by-one?
Jason silently reached for her hand, squeezing it as if he knew what she was thinking. Maybe he did—maybe he was thinking the same.
She squeezed his hand back.
Let us have a happy ending after all of this, she prayed to any god who might be listening. Please.
The three were wandering along the esplanade when Jason stopped. He nodded toward a street cart, where a guy with wings was buying an ice cream bar. The vendor lady looked bored as she counted the guy's change. Tourists navigated around the angel's huge wings without a second glance.
"Are you guys seeing this?" Jason asked.
"Yeah," Nico agreed. "Maybe we should buy some ice cream."
As they made their way toward the street cart, Ophelia worried the winged guy might be a Boread. At his side, the angel carried the same sort of jagged bronze sword Zethes and Cal had, and Ophelia and Jason's last encounter with them hadn't gone so well.
But this guy seemed more chill than chilly. He wore a red tank-top, Bermuda shorts, and huarache sandals. His wings were a combination of russet colors, like a bantam rooster or a lazy sunset. He had a deep tan and black hair almost as curly as Leo's.
"Not a ghost," Ophelia said.
"Not a returned spirit or a creature of the Underworld, either," Nico added.
"No," Jason agreed. "I doubt they would eat chocolate-covered ice cream bars."
"So what is he?" Nico wondered.
They got within thirty feet, and the winged dude looked directly at them. He smiled, gestured over his shoulder with his ice cream bar, and dissolved into the air.
"I'm betting that's the palace," Jason said. "Come on."
❖