CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
SILVIANA         DUVALL

When Sylvie woke up again, her head pounded furiously. There was a blonde guy with a lip scar at her doorway, that took her a few minutes to register as Jason. The bruises on his face had faded and his blue eyes glittered with excitement.

"Hey, Sylvie," he had told her. "We're descending over Rome. You should really see this."

The sky was brilliant blue, as if the stormy weather had never happened. The sun rose over the distant hills, so everything below them shone and sparkled like the entire city of Rome had just come out of the car wash.

Sylvie wasn't used to big cities. Or, at least she didn't think so. She couldn't really remember where she'd come from before the Argo II. But the sheer vastness of Rome grabbed her by the throat and made it hard to breathe. The city seemed to have no regard for the limits of geography. It spread through hills and valleys, jumped over the Tiber with dozens of bridges, and just kept sprawling to the horizon. Streets and alleys zigzagged with no rhyme or reason through quilts of neighborhoods. Glass office buildings stood next to excavation sites. A cathedral stood next to a line of Roman columns, which stood next to a modern soccer stadium. In some neighborhoods, old stucco villas with red-tiled roofs crowded the cobblestone streets, so that if Sylvie concentrated just on those areas, she could imagine he was back in ancient times. Everywhere she looked, there were wide piazzas and traffic-clogged streets. Parks cut across the city with a crazy collection of palm trees, pines, junipers, and olive trees, as if Rome couldn't decide what part of the world it belonged to—or maybe it just believed all the world still belonged to Rome.

It was ironic that such a beautiful place was about to bring Sylvie's death.

"We're setting down in that park," Leonardo? Leonidas? announced, pointing to a wide green space dotted with palm trees. "Let's hope the Mist makes us look like a large pigeon or something."

The whole time, Sylvie just kept thinking: Don't look at me, and hoped the Romans below would fail to notice the giant bronze trireme descending on their city in the middle of morning rush hour.

It seemed to work. Sylvie didn't notice any cars veering off the road or Romans pointing to the sky and screaming, "Aliens!" The Argo II set down in the grassy field and the oars retracted.

The noise of traffic was all around them, but the park itself was peaceful and deserted. To their left, a green lawn sloped toward a line of woods. An old villa nestled in the shade of some weird-looking pine trees with thin curvy trunks that shot up thirty or forty feet, then sprouted into puffy canopies.

To their right, snaking along the top of a hill, was a long brick wall with notches at the top for archers—maybe a medieval defensive line, maybe Ancient Roman. Sylvie wasn't sure.

To the north, about a mile away through the folds of the city, the top of the Colosseum rose above the rooftops, looking just like it did in travel photos. That's when Sylvie's legs started shaking. She was actually here. She couldn't turn back now. And even if she could, she wouldn't know where to go home to. Her memory was quickly dwindling into nothing.

The blonde boy pointed to the base of the archers' wall, where steps led down into some kind of tunnel. Sylvie had remembered his name earlier. Why couldn't she now?

"I think I know where we are," he said. "That's the Tomb of the Scipios."

Percy frowned. "Scipio... Reyna's pegasus?"

Sylvie didn't know Reyna, either. Maybe one of the girls in their group of nine.

"No," Annabelle put in. "They were a noble Roman family, and... wow, this place is amazing."

The blonde boy nodded. "I've studied maps of Rome before. I've always wanted to come here, but..."

Nobody bothered finishing that sentence. Maybe they were like Sylvie—staring back at all these people's faces that were slowly becoming nothing but blurry fog in her head. Or maybe they were just in awe. They'd made it. They'd landed in Rome—the Rome.

"Plans?" the smallest girl asked. "Nico has until sunset—at best. And this entire city is supposedly getting destroyed today."

Percy shook his head, as if ridding himself of a daze. "You're right. Sylv... did you zero in on that spot from your bronze map?"

Sylvie found herself pausing uncomfortably, because the name Sylv sounded so foreign when he said it. But no one else seemed any different, so she would have to pretend she didn't feel weird.

"Yes," she said carefully. She didn't trust the strangers around her. "It's on the Tiber River. I think I can find it, but I should—"

"Take me along," Percy finished. "Yeah, you're right."

Sylvie looked at him sternly. "That's not—"

"Safe," he supplied. "One demigod with amnesia walking through Rome alone. I'll go with you as far as the Tiber. We can use that letter of introduction, hopefully meet the river god Tiberinus. Maybe he can give you some help or advice. Then you can go on alone from there."

She let her gaze harden on him. They had a silent staring contest, but Percy didn't back down. Maybe he thought it was good manners to walk Sylvie to the start of her epic solo death quest.

"Fine," she muttered.

Percy grinned, like an asshole. "Then it's a date."

Sylvie rolled her eyes. She looked away from him and to the young, small girl with them. "H..."

Her eyes screwed shut and she silently cursed herself.

"I'm—I'm so sorry," Sylvie apologized. "What's your name?"

The dark-skinned girl blinked in suprise, her gold eyes disappearing for a moment. When her eyelids opened again, the girl's gaze was wide and concerned. Yeah. Sylvie was concerned too.

Still, she supplied, "Hazel."

"Right. Hazel," Sylvie nodded, although there wasn't a Hazel cataloged anywhere in her memory. She just thought it better to brush the moment off and pretend like everyone wasn't looking at her as if she were insane. "Now that we're in Rome, do you think you can pinpoint"—again, her head throbbed of nothingness—"that boy's location?"

Hazel still seemed as if she were coming out of a trance watching Sylvie's mental health decline. "Nico, you mean," she realized. "Um... hopefully, if I get close enough. I'll have to walk around the city. Frank, would you come with me?"

The guy named Frank beamed. "Absolutely."

"And, uh... Leo," Hazel added. "It might be a good idea if you came along too. The fish-centaurs said we'd need your help with something mechanical."

"Yeah," Leo said, "no problem."

The air went stiff between them, but obviously Sylvie was too clueless as to why. Everyone else must've understood this though. Especially Anneliese—She's your best friend, she's your best friend, she's your best friend, Sylvie repeated in her mind—who was jolting to cover up the awkward gap.

"It might be safe for me to go as well," she suggested. "In case Leo needs help. And... well, I do want to walk around the city. The architecture's beautiful."

"Right." Hazel nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Annabeth."

Not Anneliese. Not Annabelle. Sylvie couldn't even remember her best friend's name.

Another girl drew a knife and set it on the rail. "Jason, Finley, and I can watch the ship for now. I'll see what Katoptris can show me. But, Hazel, if you guys get a fix on Nico's location, don't go in there by yourselves. Come back and get us. It'll take all of us to fight the giants."

She didn't say the obvious: even all of them together wouldn't be enough, unless they had a god on their side. Sylvie didn't know these people enough to speak up about it though.

"Good idea," Percy said. "How about we plan to meet back here at... what?"

"Three this afternoon?" a copper-haired girl with a gold nose ring suggested. "Probably the latest we could rendezvous and still hope to fight the giants and save Nico. If something happens to change the plan, try to send an Iris-message."

The others nodded in agreement, but Sylvie noticed several of them glancing at her. She didn't know them, but she knew what they were thinking: Sylvie would be on a different schedule. She might be back at three, or much later, or never. But she would be on her own, searching for the Demeter of Knidos.

A frumpy-looking satyr with a bat grunted. "That'll give me time to eat the coconuts—I mean dig the coconuts out of our hull. Percy, Sylvie... I don't like you two going off on your own. Just remember: behave. If I hear about any funny business, I will ground you until the Styx freezes over."

"And who are you?" Sylvie asked defensively.

Satyr-guy gaped at her, features twisting with something dangerous. "Young lady, you will not—"

"Coach," Percy interjected. "Shut up. Not now."

"Jackson! Speak to me like that again and—"

"I said not now," he repeated, voice so terrifying everyone tensed up. "Sylv and I are gonna leave right after we change."

Sylvie eyed him warily. She felt so on edge around him all of a sudden. "Change?"

"I did say it's a date, didn't I?" Percy had softened completely when talking to her, nothing like when he just snapped at Hedge. "Put on something nice, Duvall. I'm taking you out to see Rome."

She stared at him blankly. She blinked a few times, too.

"You're insane," Sylvie realized.

Percy beamed at her, as if that had been the right thing to say.

"We'll be back soon after," he promised the half-bloods around them. "Good luck, everyone."

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By the time Sylvie got changed, she only knew 5 things:

1.) Her name was Silviana Henriette Duvall.

2.) She was seventeen years old (although her birthday itself was a mystery).

3.) Demeter was sending her off to restore the Demeter of Knidos.

4.) Gaea wanted to kill her.

5.) She really liked that Percy guy, and she was pretty sure he liked her too.

He had to like her, right? He had asked her out on a date, after all. Were they dating? Was he her boyfriend? It was all becoming fuzzy in Sylvie's decaying brain. The more she tried remembering, the worse her headache became.

Still, Sylvie wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to go on a date in Rome with Percy.

As she got ready, some gut instinct told her to wear the cute blue and flowy dress she found hanging in her cabin's closet. Of course, she wore a pair of shorts underneath, considering she was a demigod and well... yeah, you never knew. Her hair was wavier today, half of it tied back and topped with a white bow.

Percy was dressed nicely too, just like he said he'd be. It made Sylvie's heart speed up an incredible amount of beats, but this time, it wasn't because of any panic. He just looked so good. He had white pants on and a blue button-up shirt that Sylvie thought was really handsome on him.

Then, right after the attraction came in, the fear washed everything away.

Sylvie met Percy on the deck of the ship so they could leave together, but they weren't the only ones aboard. There were so many people—too many—and Sylvie didn't know any of them. She was surrounded by strangers. They were all looking at her like they were worried or waiting or something. Like she was the sole focus of their attention right now.

She reached for the dagger on her arm instantly, hand shaking, trying not to crumble under the weight of her fear. She was about to be attacked before she even stepped afoot in Rome.

"Sylv," a voice whispered.

Percy gently grabbed Sylvie's hand, which was trying to get her dagger. Her eyes snapped up to him, clueless and afraid. His gaze softened miserably.

"It's okay," he told her. "Right here, it's okay."

Sylvie shook her head. "Percy, I don't—I don't know these people—I can't remember—"

"I know." Percy's voice shook so horribly that he had to pause and breathe for a second. "Just breathe with me, and we can figure out the next step together."

Sylvie didn't know why him saying those words made something pang painfully in her heart. Regardless, she breathed with him. In and out. Percy's hold on her hand kept Sylvie rooted to the ground. To the universe.

He smiled at her. "Good," Percy encouraged. "Now, let's just be two teenagers going on a date for a little while, yeah?"

Sylvie breathed in again, but this time sharply. She nodded at him. "Just two teenagers going on a date. I can do that."

Right before they left, someone was stopping them.

A tall, dark-skinned girl walked up to Sylvie. She had the same grey streak in her braids as Percy did in his own head of hair. Sylvie was put on edge again. Mental alarm sounds blared in her brain.

"I wanted to give this to you," she said, holding out a strip of paper, "before you leave for your quest. I have a feeling it's gonna be useful."

Sylvie stared back at the girl, defenses rising. How did she know Sylvie? How did she know about Sylvie's quest?

Sylvie looked up to Percy for help. He seemed in pain again, but ultimately gave Sylvie the assuring nod that this girl wasn't a threat.

So Sylvie took the strip of paper.

Remember my abilities echoed onto you.

It was insane how Percy tried telling Sylvie she was safe, when that was what this girl had written down.

"This is what my... my mother told me," Sylvie managed. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "How do you know this? How—I don't even know you."

She stepped forward. "Sylvie—"

Sylvie flinched back.

Tears welled up in the other girl's eyes.

"Don't come near me," Sylvie told her in a hard voice. "I don't know why you gave this to me, or who you are, but don't come hear me."

Still, Sylvie shoved the slip of paper into the pocket of her shorts. She ignored the girl's betrayed stare—and the worried gazes of all the strangers around her. She laced her fingers with Percy's, and dragged him off the ship.

Under different circumstances, wandering through Rome with Percy would have been pretty awesome. Just two teenagers going on a date. They continued holding hands as they navigated the winding streets, dodging cars and crazy Vespa drivers, squeezing through mobs of tourists, and wading through oceans of pigeons. The day warmed up quickly. Once they got away from the car exhaust on the main roads, the air smelled of baking bread and freshly cut flowers.

They aimed for the Colosseum because that was an easy landmark, but getting there proved harder than Sylvie anticipated. As big and confusing as the city had looked from above, it was even more so on the ground. Several times they got lost on dead-end streets. They found beautiful foundations and huge monuments by accident.

Percy tried making commentary on their surroundings that would make Sylvie less tense, but it was hardly beneficial. Her hand was sweaty and shaky in his. She had the burning desire the let go and shove him away entirely, but she kept trying to fight it. Sylvie was stuck in her head, repeating the same 5 things:

1.) Her name was Silviana Henriette Duvall.

2.) She was seventeen years old.

3.) Demeter was sending her off to restore the Demeter of Knidos.

4.) Gaea wanted to kill her.

5.) She liked this Percy guy, and he seemed to really like her.

Finally they reached the Colosseum, where a dozen guys in cheap gladiator costumes were scuffling with the police—plastic swords versus batons. Sylvie wasn't sure what that was about, but she and Percy decided to keep walking. Sometimes mortals were even stranger than monsters.

They made their way west, stopping every once in a while to ask directions to the river. Luckily, the language barrier didn't seem to be a problem.

It was almost noon when they arrived at the Tiber River. The shore was edged with a stone embankment. A chaotic assortment of warehouses, apartments, stores, and cafés crowded the riverfront.

The Tiber itself was wide, lazy, and caramel-colored. A few tall cypress trees hung over the banks. The nearest bridge looked fairly new, made from iron girders, but right next to it stood a crumbling line of stone arches that stopped halfway across the river—ruins that might've been left over from the days of the Ceasers.

"This is it." Sylvie pointed at the old stone bridge. "I recognize that from the map. Do I just... leave now?"

Percy didn't say anything immediately, but Sylvie could tell he didn't like that idea at all. Either he was upset with how easily Sylvie was ready to part with him, or he wasn't ready to leave her yet, or something else entirely. She just watched him stare at the river for a while.

Then, Percy gestured to a nearby café with tables overlooking the water. "It's about lunchtime. I did promise you a date, didn't I?"

The honest answer was that Sylvie couldn't remember if he did or not. He must have, if they were dressed like this, and they were strolling around Rome holding hands. So she took his words as truth and followed him to the café.

Even though it was noon, the place was empty. They picked a table outside by the river, and a waiter hurried over. He looked a bit surprised to see them—especially when they said they wanted lunch.

"American?" he asked, with a pained smile.

1.) Her name was Silviana Duvall.

2.) She was... seventeen years old.

3.) Demeter was sending her off to restore the Demeter of Knidos.

4.) Gaea wanted to kill her.

5.) She was on a date with a guy named Percy.

"I... think so," Sylvie said.

"Um, she means yes," Percy said nervously. "And I'd love a pizza."

The waiter looked like he was trying to swallow a euro coin, but both Sylvie and Percy brushed off his behavior. Percy got himself a Coke, and Sylvie... struggled to order. She didn't know what kinds of foods she liked. She couldn't remember what she enjoyed drinking.

Percy had politely informed Sylvie that she was a vegetarian, and a huge fan of dry foods—like cereal. All that did was make Sylvie feel uncomfortable. How did he know that? Why did he know so much? She found her suspicion and unease growing by the minute, worsening by the dense fog that was clouding up her memories.

Sylvie was well aware she was on a date with Percy. That much was obvious. Even more obviously, that meant she knew this boy who'd asked her out. She wasn't sure about much recently, but she knew she wasn't a total idiot. Sylvie wouldn't let herself roam around a foreign city with a complete stranger.

So, logically, Percy wasn't a stranger. But Sylvie feared that he was starting to become one in her mind.

Guilt and regret consumed her. Sylvie had to be the world's worst date of all time. She didn't know Percy's middle name. She didn't know his birthday. She didn't know his favorite color (Could it have been blue? They were both wearing it). She didn't even know how she met this guy. All Sylvie truly knew, was that she felt connected to him. Maybe she even liked him.

"It's alright that you're confused," Percy said suddenly. "Well, not alright. But don't feel guilty about this. None of it is your fault."

Sylvie blinked at him, shocked. "How do you keep doing that? How do you know what I'm thinking?"

"I know you," he said.

And you like me anyway? Sylvie wanted to ask, but she held it back.

She looked down at her hands instead. Sylvie had long since let go of Percy's hand—she felt uncomfortable holding hands with him for so long. Now, she had both of her own hands clasped together. She watched her thumbs brush back and forth against each other, trying to think, but her head hurt and her mind was stuffy.

"Tell me something," she whispered, borderline begging. "About us."

The request hurt Percy to his very core, and his face showed it.

"I miss you," he confessed. "I have missed you. For months. Before this, seven months of our lives together were taken away. If I lost you again—"

Lunch arrived. The waiter looked much calmer. Having accepted the fact that they were clueless Americans, he had apparently decided to forgive them and treat them politely.

"It is a beautiful view," he said, nodding toward the river. "Enjoy, please."

Once he left, they ate in silence. Or, Percy did. Sylvie didn't have an appetite. Her memory was getting worse:

1.) Her name was Silviana Duvall.

2.) She was sixteen? seventeen? eighteen? years old.

3.) Demeter was sending her off to restore the Demeter of Knidos.

4.) Gaea wanted to kill her.

5.) She was getting lunch with the guy across from her.

Sylvie didn't understand why she'd do something like that. She had a quest to go on. She had to find her mother's statue. She couldn't be wasting time, and risking her life, to eat with... with... Pierce? Perry?

Abruptly, Sylvie got out of her chair. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and the urge to draw her daggers. Maybe he would be understanding.

"Look, I'm sure it was nice being here with you and all, but I really have to go."

He flinched back, confusion making its way onto his features. "Sylvie?"

She shook her head. He knew her name, but she didn't know his. He knew her, but she didn't know him. There was a vague pang of recognition in her heart, but otherwise, Sylvie didn't know him.

Realization crashed over him like an unruly wave. "Sylvie," his voice cracked. 

When he stood out of his chair, he almost watched Sylvie like she was a wild animal too far gone to tame. The look in her eyes was a guarded hardness that had never—never—been there before.

Desperately, he tried stepping closer to her, but Sylvie's hand actually did find the dagger on her armband this time. She took a step back.

"Don't get any closer," Sylvie warned, voice wavering, holding her dagger in a shaking hand.

"Sylvie, you know me," he begged. There was a stubborn disbelief to his words. "I promise you know me. It's me. It's Percy."

Sylvie shook her head. "I don't. I don't know you."

(Percy was stunned silent. Nothing anyone had ever said had hurt so much. Nothing.)

"Just let me go," Sylvie warned. "Let me go, so I won't have to drive this dagger through your heart."

"Stop." Percy choked on a dry sob. Somehow, he sounded like there already was a dagger driving his heart in two. "Sylv, stop, this isn't funny."

Desperately, he stepped forward again.

Sylvie reacted quickly.

In one second, Percy was walking towards her. But Sylvie took this as an attack. In the next second, she shifted her glove into a second dagger, grappled with Percy, and slammed him against a support beam.

Sylvie put the point of one dagger up against his stomach, and the bade of another across his throat.

She glared at him with nothing but hatred in her eyes. Sylvie knew she was losing her memory, and she knew her brain was growing more clouded, but this was one of the few pieces of information she was sure of:

1.) Her name was Sylvie Duvall.

2.) Demeter was sending her off to restore the Demeter of Knidos.

3.) Gaea wanted to kill her.

4.) She hated Percy.

"Sylvie," Percy swallowed, pushing back as much as possible to avoid getting his throat slit. "You're Silviana Henriette Duvall. You're my girlfriend. You... You tripped me up in the strawberry fields back at camp when you saw me for the first time. You hijacked a cruise ship with me. You made fun of me for—for giving you my ripped-up jacket. You put up with me being a fucking idiot in the Labyrinth, because that's the kind of person you are. I—I was stupid for a long time, but... we are together. You even let me kiss you in front of the gods on Olympus. You gave me this ring. Look. Please."

With the way Sylvie pressed him against the support beam, he couldn't move. But his eyes flickered downwards. Sylvie's did too, and she caught sight of a necklace with beads around Percy's neck. Along with them, a ring—an elaborate royal blue band with gold carvings of wheat designs and flowers.

Instinctively, Sylvie's hand moved up to a coral ring around her necklace as well. She didn't know why. She couldn't remember why.

This made Percy's eyes light up with something. Hope, maybe. His eyes were darting around her face.

"I've never seen that ring in my life," she said, "and even if it was mine, I don't see why I would give it to you."

A miserable whining noise let out from the back of his throat. Percy threw his head against the support beam, like he wanted Sylvie to get it over with and just kill him already. Still, his eyes didn't leave hers.

"Because I'm everything to you. Because you're everything to me," he pleaded. "Because I... Fuck. Sylvie, I love you. With every piece of my being and soul. I love you."

Sylvie was sure those words had never been spoken aloud before, whether she remembered it or not. His words were a confession of sorrow. They were one last desperate attempt at breaking through to her.

"You mean nothing to be," Sylvie sneered.

The sound of a Vespa interrupted them. Sylvie looked along the riverfront and did a double take. Her daggers faltered from being pressed so tightly against Percy. The motor scooter was an old-fashioned model: big and baby blue. The driver was a guy in a silky gray suit. Behind him sat a younger woman with a headscarf, her hands around the man's waist.

Sylvie's attention was on them, but Percy's was still on her. Once again, he begged, "Sylvie—" but she shoved herself away harshly and ignored him.

The couple weaved between café tables and puttered to a stop next to Sylvie and Percy.

"Why, hello," the man said. His voice was deep, almost croaky, like a movie actor's. His hair was short and greased back from his craggy face. He was handsome in a 1950s dad-on-television way. Even his clothes seemed old-fashioned—high-waisted slacks and a dress shirt. Sylvie had trouble guessing his age. Maybe he was thirty-something, though the man's fashion and manner seemed grandfatherish.

The woman slid off the bike. "We've had the most lovely morning," she said breathlessly.

She looked about twenty-one, also dressed in an old-fashioned style. Her ankle-length marigold skirt and white blouse were pinched together with a large leather belt, giving her the narrowest waist Sylie had ever seen. When she removed her scarf, her short wavy black hair bounded into perfect shape. She had dark playful eyes and a brilliant smile.

"You're..." Percy's eyes were wide, and his mouth kept falling open. "Gregory Peck. And Audrey Hepburn."

"What?" Sylvie protested, memory shotty.

His eyes flickered to her once, but looking at her was too painful, so he just swallowed hard and looked away. "My mom showed me this movie once. Roman Holiday. But that's, like, a bajillion years old. How—?"

"Oh, my dear!" The woman twirled like an air spirit and sat down at their abandoned table. "I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else! My name is Rhea Silvia."

Sylvie's brows furrowed, and she took a seat next to the woman. "'Silvia.' Like... my name?"

"Close," she smiled grimly. "But, your mother did derive your name from mine. Silvia means forest, you know."

Sylvie swallowed. "No. No, I... didn't know."

Or, maybe she did. Maybe she just forgot.

"That's alright. By any means, I was the mother to Romulus and Remus myself, though thousands of years ago. And this is my husband..."

"Tiberinus," said Gregory Peck, thrusting his hand to Percy in a manly way. "God of the River Tiber."

Percy shook his hand. "Uh, hi," he said. "Do you two always look like American movie stars?"

"Do we?" Tiberinus frowned and studied his clothes. "I'm not sure, actually. The migration of Western civilization goes both ways, you know. Rome affected the world, but the world also affects Rome. There does seem to be a lot of American influence lately. I've rather lost track over the centuries."

"Okay," Percy said. "But... you're here to help?"

"My naiads told me you two were here." Tiberinus cast his dark eyes toward Sylvie. "You have the map, my dear? And your letter of introduction?"

"Uh..." Sylvie handed him the letter and the disk of bronze. "S-so... you've helped other children of Demeter with this quest?"

"Oh, my dear!" The pretty lady, Rhea Silvia, put her hand on Sylvie's shoulder. "Tiberinus is ever so helpful. He saved my children Romulus and Remus, you know, and brought them to the wolf goddess Lupa. Later, when that old king Numen tried to kill me, Tiberinus took pity on me and made me his wife. I've been ruling the river kingdom at his side ever since. He's just dreamy!"

"Thank you, my dear," Tiberinus said with a wry smile. "And, yes, Sylvie Duvall, I've helped many of your siblings... to at least begin their journey safely. A shame all of them died painfully later on. Well, your documents seem in order. We should get going. The Echo of Demeter awaits!"

Percy gripped Sylvie's hand, tight. "Tiberinus, let me go with her—"

Sylvie shoved him again, forcing his hand to let go of hers. "You need to go," she demanded furiously. "I don't want you anywhere near me. I'm doing this alone."

He quivered completely, but Sylvie didn't care.

"Oh, dear," Rhea Silvia grimaced. "It seems the memory curse has already begun taking hold. That's not good. Listen, boy—you must return to your ship and gather your other friends. Confront the giants! The way will appear in your friend Piper's knife. Sylvie has a different path. She must walk alone."

"Indeed," Tiberinus said. "Sylvie must face and overcome her fear by herself. It is the only way. And Percy Jackson, you have less time than you realized to rescue your friend in the jar. You must hurry."

Percy gaped in misery. "But—"

"Go," Sylvie told him. "Now."

He started to protest. Her expression stopped him.

"Okay," he said, forcing out the words. "I know you don't... know me, but—uh—be safe. I really—I do love you. You don't want to hear it, but I need to know I said it."

Sylvie put her daggers away. She shouldered her backpack and climbed on the back of the scooter.

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