That was his duty.
So why did the idea fill him with dread? He felt guilty about leaving Reyna to rule without him, but still…part of him wanted to go back to Camp Half-Blood with Piper and Leo. He guessed that that made him a pretty terrible leader.
“Jason?” Leo asked. “Argo II to Jason. Come in.”
He realized his friends were looking at him expectantly. They needed reassurance. Whether or not he made it back to New Rome after the war, Jason had to step up now and act like a praetor.
“Yeah, sorry.” He touched the groove that Sciron the bandit had cut in his hair. “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. Jason was still a little nervous about her getting jealous of Reyna, but when she looked up, she gave him a dry smile that seemed more teasing than insecure.
“Well, I’d love to see Reyna again,” she said. “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 gave her a grateful look. “Some magic is interfering…maybe Gaea. Contacting the Romans is even harder. I think they’re shielding themselves.”
Jason looked from Hazel to the coach, wondering what was going on with the satyr, and how Hazel knew about it. Now that Jason thought about it, the coach hadn’t mentioned his cloud nymph girlfriend Mellie in a long time.…
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.”
Jason thought about the Argo II’s journey across the ocean, the dozens of encounters that had nearly killed them. Thinking about Reyna making that journey alone—he couldn’t decide whether it was terrifying or awe-inspiring.
“She’ll find us,” he said. “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.”
Piper leaned toward him, her caramel braid falling over her shoulder. Her multicolored eyes made it hard for him to think straight.
“And where is this place?” she asked.
“A…uh, a town called Split.”
“Split.” She smelled really good—like blooming honeysuckle.
“Um, yeah.” Jason wondered if Piper was working some sort of Aphrodite magic on him—like maybe every time he mentioned Reyna’s name, she would befuddle him so much he couldn’t think about anything but Piper. He supposed it wasn’t the worst sort of revenge. “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 the 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?”
Jason noticed that the others were reluctant to meet her eyes. Since her trick with the Mist against Sciron the bandit, even Jason felt a little nervous around her. He knew that wasn’t fair to Hazel. It was hard enough being a child of Pluto, but she’d pulled off some serious magic on that cliff. And afterward, according to Hazel, Pluto himself had appeared to her. That was something Romans typically called a bad omen.
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.
Holy Romulus… Jason wished he could put a bell around Nico di Angelo’s neck to remind him the guy was there. Nico had this disturbing habit of standing silently in the corner, blending into the shadows.
He stepped forward, his dark eyes fixed on Jason. Since they’d rescued him from the bronze jar in Rome, Nico had slept very little and eaten even less, as if he were still subsisting on those emergency pomegranate seeds from the Underworld. He reminded Jason a little too much of a flesh-eating ghoul he’d once fought in San Bernardino.
“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?”