CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
JASON                GRACE

Jason first saw the angel at the ice cream cart.

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, Finn, and Nico hopped on a skiff from one of the tourist boats to 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 cafés, European teenagers were hanging out, speaking a dozen different languages and enjoying the sunny afternoon. The air smelled of grilled meat and fresh-cut flowers.

Beyond the main boulevard, the city was a crammed hodgepodge of medieval castle towers, Roman walls, limestone townhouses with red-tiled roofs, and modern office buildings. In the distance, gray-green hills marched toward a mountain ridge, which made Jason a little nervous. He kept glancing at that rocky escarpment, expecting the face of Gaea to appear in its shadows.

Finn, Nico, and he were wandering along the esplanade when Jason spotted the guy with wings buying an ice cream bar from a street cart. The vendor lady looked bored as she counted the guy's change. Tourists navigated around the angel's huge wings without a second glance.

Jason nudged Nico. "Are you guys seeing this?"

"Yeah," Nico agreed. Finn just rolled her eyes from behind, because she was being immature, per usual. "Maybe we should buy some ice cream."

They approached the street cart, and Jason noted his 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 curly black hair.

"He's not a spirit," Finn murmured, almost like she didn't even realize she was speaking. "I don't know how I know that."

"He's not a creature of the Underworld, either," Nico said.

"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.

Jason couldn't exactly see him, but he'd had enough experience controlling the wind that he could track the angel's path—a warm wisp of red and gold zipping across the street, spiraling down the sidewalk, and blowing postcards from the carousels in front of the tourist shops. The wind headed toward the end of the promenade, where a big fortresslike structure loomed.

"I'm betting that's the palace," Jason said.

"Oh, you think?" Finn snarked.

He rolled his eyes, refusing to indulge her anymore. "Just—Come on."

Even after two millennia, Diocletian's Palace was still impressive. The outer wall was only a pink granite shell, with crumbling columns and arched windows open to the sky, but it was mostly intact, a quarter mile long and seventy or eighty feet tall, dwarfing the modern shops and houses that huddled beneath it. Jason imagined what the palace must have looked like when it was newly built, with Imperial guards walking the ramparts and the golden eagles of Rome glinting on the parapets.

The wind angel—or whatever he was—whisked in and out of the pink granite windows, then disappeared on the other side. Jason scanned the palace's facade for an entrance. The only one he saw was several blocks away, with tourists lined up to buy tickets. No time for that.

"We've got to catch him," Jason said. "Hold on."

Finn protested, "But—"

Jason grabbed her and Nico and lifted them all into the air.

Finn and Nico made muffled sounds of protest as they soared over the walls and into a courtyard where more tourists were milling around, taking pictures. No one else paid them any attention.

On the left side of the courtyard stood a line of columns holding up weathered gray arches. On the right side was a white marble building with rows of tall windows.

"The peristyle," Nico said. "This was the entrance of Diocletian's private residence." He scowled at Jason. "And please, I don't like being touched. Don't ever grab me again."

"Seconded," Finn added.

Jason's shoulder blades tensed. Aside from his annoyance with Finn, he thought he heard the undertone of a threat from Nico, like: unless you want to get a Stygian sword up your nose. "Uh, okay. Sorry. How do you know what this place is called?"

Nico scanned the atrium. He focused on some steps in the far corner, leading down.

"I've been here before." His eyes were as dark as his blade. "With my mother and Bianca. A weekend trip from Venice. I was maybe... six?"

"That was when," Finn asked, "the 1930s?"

"Thirty-eight or so," Nico said absently. "Why do you care? Do you see that winged guy anywhere?"

"Man, I was just asking," she said. "And, no. I don't."

Jason was trying not to be completely pessimistic about this mission. He always tried to build a good relationship with the people on his team. He'd learned the hard way that if somebody was going to have your back in a fight, it was better if you found some common ground and trusted each other. But Nico wasn't easy to figure out, and Finn refused to let them find "common ground."

"Nico, I just..." Jason trailed. "I can't imagine how weird that must be, coming from another time."

"No, you can't."

Nico stared at the stone floor. He took a deep breath.

"Look... I don't like talking about it. Honestly, I think Hazel has it worse. She remembers more about when she was young. She had to come back from the dead and adjust to the modern world. Me... me and Bianca, we were stuck at the Lotus Hotel. Time passed so quickly. In a weird way, it made the transition easier."

"Percy told us about that place," Jason said. "Seventy years, but it only felt like a month?"

Nico clenched his fist until his fingers turned white. "Yeah. I'm sure Percy told you all about me."

His voice was heavy with bitterness—the same kind that Finn spoke with when conversing with Jason, actually. It was more than he could understand. He knew that Nico blamed Percy for getting his sister Bianca killed, but they'd supposedly gotten past that, at least according to Percy. Piper also had mentioned a rumor that Nico had a crush on Sylvie. Maybe that was part of it.

Still... Jason didn't get why Nico pushed people away, why he never spent much time at either camp, why he preferred the dead to the living. He really didn't get why Nico had promised to lead the Argo II to Epirus if he hated Percy Jackson so much.

Then again, he didn't understand why Finn hated him so much, either. When Hera stole all of his memories, all he knew for absolute certain was that Finley Briggs was his best friend. It was the only thing that got him through living as an amnesiac, stumbling through life unsure of who and where he was. He could just tell everyone about how amazing Finn was, and suddenly he felt okay. Jason had been so excited to reunite with her.

But when he did, she just judo-flipped him to the ground.

Something happened between them—Jason could gather that much now. He just didn't know what. He just knew that, despite their fallout, they were given a chance to start over, but Finn was throwing it all away instead. She couldn't go thirty minutes without mentioning she hated him. She wasn't the daring and hilarious girl he enjoyed being around. Now, she just hurt him every time he was in her presence.

"That was the mausoleum of the emperor," Nico said, pointing east to a hexagonal building ringed with freestanding columns. "His tomb hasn't been there for centuries, apparently. When the empire collapsed, the building was turned into a Christian cathedral."

Finn swallowed. "So if Diocletian's ghost is still around here—"

"He's probably not happy."

"Of course," she said. "And this is exactly why I didn't want to come along."

Jason detected a note of anxiety in her voice. He actually felt really bad for her, knowing she was facing lingering fear from how she died only weeks ago. But he also knew she didn't want anyone to notice that, especially not Jason.

So he kept quiet.

The wind rustled, pushing leaves and food wrappers across the peristyle. In the corner of his eye, Jason caught a glimpse of movement—a blur of red and gold.

When he turned, a single rust-colored feather was settling on the steps that led down.

"That way." Jason pointed. "The winged guy. Where do you think those stairs lead?"

Nico drew his sword. His smile was even more unsettling than his scowl. "Underground," he said. "My favorite place."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Underground was not Jason's favorite place.

Ever since his trip beneath Rome with Finn, Piper, and Percy, fighting those twin giants in the hypogeum, most of his nightmares were about basements, trap doors, Finn bleeding out, and wine.

Jason looked at her, hoping it would bring him some semblance of comfort. Everyone thought she looked unsettling, but Jason thought that just looking at her felt like breathing fresh air; even if she looked as she did now—nervous, but with her guard up trying to hide it. Finn's hand was clenched around the hilt of her shortsword. Ever since their time in the training room (that Jason preferred not to think about, for the sake of his rapidly beating heart), she'd been keeping the weapon in her possession. It was currently sheathed through an empty belt loop of her jean shorts at the side of her hip.

They crept through a vast cellar with thick support columns holding up a vaulted ceiling. The limestone blocks were so old, they had fused together from centuries of moisture, making the place look almost like a naturally formed cave.

None of the tourists had ventured down here. Obviously, they were smarter than demigods.

Jason drew his gladius. They made their way under the low archways, their steps echoing on the stone floor. Barred windows lined the top of one wall, facing the street level, but that just made the cellar feel more claustrophobic. The shafts of sunlight looked like slanted prison bars, swirling with ancient dust.

Jason passed a support bean, looked to his left, and almost had a heart attack. Staring right at him was a marble bust of Diocletian, his limestone face glowering with disapproval.

Jason steadied his breathing. This seemed like a good place to leave the note he'd written for Reyna, telling her of their route to Epirus. It was away from the crowds, but he trusted Reyna would find it. She had the instincts of a hunter. He slipped the note between the bust and its pedestal, and stepped back.

"Hello!"

Before Jason could register that the voice had come from somewhere else, he sliced off the emperor's head. The bust toppled and shattered against the floor.

"That wasn't very nice," said the voice behind them.

Jason turned. The winged man from the ice cream was leaning against a nearby column, casually tossing a small bronze hoop in the air. At his feet sat a wicker picnic basket full of fruit.

"I mean," the man said, "what did Diocletian ever do to you?"

The air swirled around Jason's feet. The shards of marble gathered into a miniature tornado, spiraled back to the pedestal, and reassembled into a complete bust, the note still tucked underneath.

"Uh—" Jason lowered his sword. "It was an accident. You startled me."

The winged dude chuckled. "Jason Grace, the West Wind has been called many things... warm, gentle, life-giving, and devilishly handsome. But I have never been called startling. I leave that crass behavior to my gusty brethren in the north."

Nico inched backward. "The West Wind? You mean you're—"

"Favonius," Jason realized. "God of the West Wind."

Favonius smiled and bowed, obviously pleased to be recognized. "You can call me by my Roman name, certainly, or Zephyros, if you're Greek. I'm not hung up about it."

Nico looked pretty hung up about it. "Why aren't your Greek and Roman sides in conflict, like the other gods?"

"Oh, I have the occasional headache." Favonius shrugged. "Some mornings I'll wake up in a Greek chiton when I'm sure I went to sleep in my SPQR pajamas. But mostly the war doesn't bother me. I'm a minor god, you know—never really been much in the limelight. The to-and-fro battles among you demigods don't affect me as greatly."

"So..." Finn eyed him up and down with her unsettling gaze, "what are you doing here?"

"Several things!" Favonius said. "For one, hanging out with my basket of fruit. I always carry a basket of fruit. Would you like a pear?"

"No."

"I think she meant, why did you appear to us?" Jason asked. "Why did you lead us to this cellar?"

"Oh!" Favonius nodded. "The sarcophagus of Diocletian. Yes. This was its final resting place. The Christians moved it out of the mausoleum. Then some barbarians destroyed the coffin. I just wanted to show you"—he spread his hands sadly—"that what you're looking for isn't here. My master has taken it."

"Your master?" Jason had a flashback to a floating place above Pikes Peak in Colorado (the state Finn came from), where he'd visited the studio of a crazy weatherman who claimed he was the god of all the winds. "Please tell me your master isn't Aeolus."

"That airhead?" Favonius snorted. "No, of course not."

"He means Eros." Nico's voice turned edgy. "Cupid, in Latin."

"What?" Finn whipped her head over to him.

Favonius smiled. "Very good, Nico di Angelo. I'm glad to see you again, by the way. It's been a long time."

Nico knit his eyebrows. "I've never met you."

"You've never seen me," the god corrected. "But I've been watching you. When you came here as a small boy, and several times since. I knew eventually you would return to look upon my master's face."

Nico turned even paler than usual. His eyes darted around the cavernous room as if he was starting to feel trapped.

"di Angelo?" Finn said. "What's he talking about?"

"I don't know. Shut up. Nothing."

Finn, of course, didn't have a choice but to obey.

"Nothing?" Favonius cried. "The one you care for most... plunged into Tartarus, and still you will not allow the truth?"

Suddenly Jason felt like he and Finn were eavesdropping.

The one you care for most.

He remembered what Piper had told him about Nico's crush on Sylvie. Apparently Nico's feelings went way deeper than a simple crush.

"We've only come for Diocletian's scepter," Nico said, clearly eager to change the subject. "Where is it?"

"Ah..." Favonius nodded sadly. "You thought it would be as easy as facing Diocletian's ghost? I'm afraid not, Nico. Your trials will be much more difficult. If you want the scepter..." He turned to Finn and Nico. "You must face the god of love."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Jason had ridden the wind many times. Being the wind was not the same.

He felt out of control, his thoughts scattered, no boundaries between his body and the rest of the world. He wondered if this was how monsters felt when they were defeated—bursting into dust, helpless and formless.

Jason could sense Finn's and Nico's presence nearby. The West Wind carried them into the sky above Split. Together they raced over the hills, past Roman aqueducts, highways, and vineyards. As they approached the mountains, Jason saw the ruins of a Roman town spread out in a valley below—crumbling walls, square foundations, and cracked roads, all overgrown with grass—so it looked like a giant, mossy game board.

Favonius set them down in the middle of the ruins, next to a broken column the size of a redwood.

Jason's body re-formed. For a moment it felt even worse than being the wind, like he'd suddenly been wrapped in a lead overcoat.

"Yes, mortal bodies are terribly bulky," Favonius said, as if reading his thoughts. The wind god settled on a nearby wall with his basket of fruit and spread his russet wings in the sun. "Honestly, I don't know how you stand it, day in and day out."

Jason scanned their surroundings. Some areas looked like they'd been excavated, but most of the city just seemed abandoned, as if it had been left to the elements for the last two thousand years.

"Welcome to Salona," Favonius said. "Capital of Dalmatia! Birthplace of Diocletian! But before that, long before that, it was the home of Cupid."

The name echoed, as if voices were whispering it through the ruins.

"That would be my cue." Favonius stood. "Think long and hard about how you proceed, Nico di Angelo. I'd advise you to give Finley Briggs back the ability to speak again. You two must know you cannot lie to Cupid."

Jason felt like his brain was turning back into wind. He didn't understand what Favonius was talking about, or why Finn and Nico seemed so shaken, but he had no time to think about it. The wind god disappeared in a swirl of red and gold. The summer air suddenly felt oppressive. The ground shook, and the trio drew their swords.

"You can speak," Nico whispered to Finn, and his voice sounded brittle.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

So.

The wind rushed past Jason's ear like a bullet. When he turned, no one was there.

You come to claim the scepter.

Finn and Nico stood back-to-back with Jason, and he was glad to have the company.

"Cupid," Jason called, "where are you?"

The voice laughed. It sounded deep and rich, but also threatening—like a tremor before a major earthquake.

Where you least expect me, Cupid answered. As Love always is.

Something slammed into Jason and hurled him across the street. He toppled down a set of steps and sprawled on the floor of an excavated Roman basement.

I hoped you would know better, Jason Grace. Cupid's voice whirled around him. After all, you've learned you know nothing about love.

Nico scrambled down the steps. "You okay?"

Jason accepted his hand and got to his feet. "Yeah. Just sucker punched."

Oh, did you expect me to play fair? Cupid laughed. I am the god of love. I am never fair.

This time, Jason's senses were on high alert. He felt the air ripple just as an arrow materialized, racing toward Finn's chest.

Jason intercepted it with his sword and deflected it sideways. The arrow exploded against the nearest wall, peppering them with limestone shrapnel.

They ran up the steps. Finn pulled Nico to one side as another gust of wind toppled a column that would have crushed him flat.

"Is this guy Love or Death?" Jason growled.

It's funny you ask, Cupid said. Your friend—or should I say friend?—Finley actually met my counterpart, Thanatos. We are not so different.

"Except Death is sometimes kinder," Finn bit.

Was that how it was for you, Finley Briggs? Cupid asked. Or have you failed to experience kindness from both sides?

"We just want the scepter!" Nico shouted. "We're trying to stop Gaea. Are you on the gods' side or not?"

A second arrow hit the ground between Nico's feet and glowed white-hot. Nico stumbled back as the arrow burst into a geyser of flame.

Love is on every side, Cupid said. And no one's side. Don't ask what Love can do for you.

"Great," Jason said. "Now he's spouting greeting card messages."

Movement behind him: Jason spun, slicing his sword through the air. His blade bit into something solid. He heard a grunt and he swung again, but the invisible god was gone. On the paving stones, a trail of golden ichor shimmered—the blood of the gods.

Very good, Jason, Cupid said. At least you can sense my presence. Even a glancing hit at having pure love for someone is more than most heroes manage.

"So now I get the scepter?" Jason asked, as Finn tensed.

Cupid laughed. Unfortunately, you could not wield it. Only a child of the Underworld can summon the dead legions. And only an officer of Rome can lead them.

"But..." Jason wavered. He was an officer. He was praetor. Then he remembered all his second thoughts about where he belonged. In New Rome, he'd offered to give up his position to Percy Jackson. Did that make him unworthy to lead a legion of Roman ghosts?

He decided to face the problem when the time came.

"Just leave that to us," he said. "Nico can summon—"

The third arrow zipped by Jason's shoulder. He couldn't stop it in time. Finn gasped as it sunk into her sword arm.

"Finn!"

The daughter of Bacchus stumbled. The arrow dissolved, leaving no blood and no visible wound, but Finn's face was tight with rage and pain.

"Enough games!" Finn shouted. "Show yourself!"

It is a costly thing, Cupid said, looking on the true face of Love.

Another column toppled. Jason scrambled out of its way.

My wife Psyche learned that lesson, Cupid said. She was brought here eons ago, when this was the site of my palace. We met only in the dark. She was warned never to look upon me, and yet she could not stand the mystery. She feared I was a monster. One night, she lit a candle and beheld my face as I slept.

"Were you that ugly?" Jason thought he had zeroed in on Cupid's voice—at the edge of the amphitheater about twenty yards away—but he wanted to make sure.

The god laughed. I was too handsome, I'm afraid. A mortal cannot gaze upon the true appearance of a god without suffering consequences. My mother, Aphrodite, cursed Psyche for her distrust. My poor lover was tormented, forced into exile, given horrible tasks to prove her worth. She was even sent to the Underworld on a quest to show her dedication. She earned her way back to my side, but she suffered greatly.

Now I've got you, Jason thought.

He thrust his sword in the sky and thunder shook the valley. Lightning blasted a crater where the voice had been speaking.

Silence. Jason was thinking, Damn, it actually worked, when an invisible force knocked him to the ground. His sword skittered across the road.

A good try, Cupid said, his voice already distant. But Love cannot be pinned down so easily. I thought she taught you that, Jason?

Next to him, a wall collapsed. Jason barely managed to roll aside.

"Stop it!" Nico yelled. "It's me you want! Leave them alone!"

Jason's ears rang. He was dizzy from getting smacked around. His mouth tasted like limestone dust. He didn't understand why Nico would think of himself as the main target.

Oh, it's not just you I want, Nico di Angelo. The god's voice was tinged with disappointment. Finley Briggs has gone on for longer than even you, trying to avoid the truths of her love.

Just then, the ground underneath Finn shook so terribly that she collapsed to the ground. She choked when she did, maybe on a dry sob. Jason's heart felt tight as she watched her, scared and in pain, looking around for Cupid with glassy eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She shook her head stubbornly. "You don't know—You don't know anything."

I pity you, Finley, Cupid told her. I think both of us know exactly what you want. My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love. It was the only way to atone for her lack of faith. And you—you have risked everything against the name of Love. Nothing atones for your lack of faith.

"You don't scare me," Finn snarled.

I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.

Jason pulled himself up.

The atmosphere surrounding Finn twinged with something sour, like grape. It made Jason's insides tingle. He almost felt a storm of insanity brewing inside of him, at the will of Finn's mental instability. Nico wasn't doing much better. All around him, the ground shifted. The grass withered, and the stones cracked as if something was moving in the earth beneath, trying to push its way through.

"Give us Diocletian's scepter," Nico said. "We don't have time for games."

Games? Cupid struck, slapping Nico sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work—a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you—especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards.

Jason retrieved his sword. He was starting to think Cupid wasn't love—he seemed more like a thug, an enforcer.

"What does this guy want from you two?" Jason called.

Tell him, Nico di Angelo. Tell him you are a coward, afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him the real reason you ran from Camp Half-Blood, and why you are always alone, Cupid said. Tell him, Finley Briggs. He, of all people, deserves to know. Tell him why he can't come close anymore. Tell him the hurt you push yourself through every day in the name of staying 'protected,' but only leads to more misery—

"Shut up!" Finn snapped.

A column next to her erupted, and while Finn reacted in the right amount of time, she was still so weak and too close. One chunk of stone collapsed onto her leg, making her cry out in pain. Jason yelled for her, trying to run over, but Finn glared at him.

"No," she heaved. "You, stay away."

Will you hide among false hatred, as you always do? Cupid taunted.

"That's enough!" Nico demanded. 

Waves of darkness rolled off him. When they hit Jason, he almost lost consciousness—overwhelmed by hatred and fear and shame...

Images flashed through his mind. He saw Nico and his sister on a snowy cliff in Maine, Percy Jackson protecting them from a manticore. Percy's sword gleamed in the dark. He'd been the first demigod Nico had ever seen in action.

Later, at Camp Half-Blood, Percy took Nico by the arm, promising to keep his sister Bianca safe. Nico believed him. Nico looked into his sea-green eyes and thought, How can he possibly fail? This is a real hero. He was Nico's favorite game, Mythomagic, brought to life.

Jason saw the moment when Percy returned with Sylvie and told Nico that Bianca was dead. Nico had screamed and called him a liar. He'd felt betrayed, but still... when the skeleton warriors attacked, he couldn't let them harm Percy. Nico had called on the earth to swallow them up, and then he'd run away—terrified of his own powers, and his own emotions.

Jason saw a dozen more scenes like this from Nico's point of view... And they left him stunned, unable to move or speak.

Interesting! Cupid said. Do you have the strength, after all?

"I left Camp Half-Blood because of love," Nico said. "Sylvie... she—"

Still hiding, Cupid said. You do not have the strength. Neither of you do.

"Nico," Jason managed to say, "it's okay. I get it."

Nico glanced over, pain and misery washing across his face.

"No, you don't," he said. "There's no way you can understand."

And so you run away again, Cupid chided. From your friends, from yourself. I find it ironic you clash with Finley here so much, when you two aren't as different as you seem to believe.

"Fuck"—Finn coughed, trying to heave the column off of her knee—"off."

Jason didn't hold back this time. He darted to wherever Finn was, whether she was angry at him for it or not. He slid to her side, using his strength to shove off the crushing stone. Jason tried checking on her, tried inspecting her knee, but Finn scooted away from him with her remaining energy. It was almost like she was scared to be near him.

"Nico, you don't have to do this," she rasped, ignoring Jason and staring at Nico instead. "Neither of us do. This isn't right. This isn't..."

Her voice failed. It was almost like she was about to say This isn't Cupid's business, before she realized this was exactly Cupid's business.

"We do have to," Nico said sadly. His voice was like broken glass. "I—I wasn't in love with Sylvie."

"You were jealous of her," Finn said. "That's why you didn't want to be around her. Especially why you didn't want to be around him. It makes total sense."

All the fight and denial seemed to go out of Nico at once. The darkness subsided.

"I hated myself," Nico said. "I hated Percy Jackson."

Very well, Nico, came Cupid's voice. I'm impressed.

"I had a crush on Percy," Nico spat. "That's the truth. That's the big secret. You can show yourself now."

Oh, I don't think that's the case, the god tutted. I told you I wanted two confessions here. Just your sacrifice alone won't do.

Nico slumped completely—he'd been forced to admit all of that, and it still barely benefitted everything. He looked at Finn with nothing but sadness in his eyes. She couldn't see this, for the fact her eyes were screwed shut like she was hoping this was all a bad dream.

"Stop," she begged, shaking her head. "I didn't ask for this."

Mortals hardly ever ask for Love, Cupid said. Still, it has its way of finding them anyway.

Finn choked out another sob. It could either be from pain, or Cupid, but Jason didn't know. It was so hard to know her these days. He had no clue why she was this adament to discuss her love life with Cupid. It scared him almost as much as she seemed to be.

"She can't even wield Diocletian's scepter!" Nico called angrily.

That's hardly the point here. Finley can't hide from me anymore.

"We can't lie to Cupid," Finn breathed out, reciting Favonius's earlier words.

That you can't, Cupid said, almost sounding like he was smiling. So what will it be, Finley?

Finn shook her head adamantly, fingers clenching uselessly at the ground. "Please. You already know. I can't."

That's not good enough. Cupid sounded disappointed, and Jason instantly knew Finn had made the wrong choice.

He suddenly felt more waves of blindsiding emotions. Finn's, he realized. It couldn't have been Nico's, because this wasn't hatred or fear or shame. This was betrayal and misery and hopelessness. So, maybe they were actually Jason's emotions.

Like before, images flashed through his mind. He gasped at the impact of them. There was a younger Jason, trying to braid the hair of a younger Finn. There was a younger Finn dramatically reciting lines from The Phantom of the Opera to get a younger Jason to play cards with her again after cheating for the millionth time. There was a younger Jason surprising a younger Finn for her birthday, because she thought no one would celebrate it with her after what happened to her mom.

"Wait!" Finn pleaded. Jason didn't know how she was speaking. He couldn't even breathe himself. "I'll—"

Three arrows materialized, lodging themselves into Jason's, Finn's, and Nico's chests. They all grunted out. More visions appeared.

Jason could see himself, but he couldn't recognize himself anymore. These must have been the memories that Hera had ripped from him. He heard himself telling Finn she needed to slow down on drinking because it wasn't healthy, but he couldn't remember ever doing that. He heard her snapping back at him, not wanting anything to change, but that kind of irritation on Finn's face had been foreign to him before the Argo II. He felt the tension between them. He saw himself as the unstoppable force, and he saw Finn as the immovable object.

Different, horrible conversations blended together in his head. You're too far gone to be worth any more of my time. That was Jason's voice. Had he really said that? Are you really happy with what they turned you into, Wonderboy? That was Finn's voice. "Wonderboy" had never sounded so cruel.

"Okay, okay, okay!" Finn panicked. She tried (and failed) to scramble up, as if that would stop the visions. She refused to look anywhere near Jason or Nico. She was so devastatingly desperate. "I—I had a crush on Jason! He dropped me as his friend, and I got hurt! Th-There—That's it!"

Was it just a crush? Cupid asked. Is that really it?

It wouldn't have mattered what Finn said in response. Cupid wasn't done showing them images. This one was a million times more impactful than any of the past:

"I'm fine!" Finn snapped. "I've always just been fucking fine! Isn't that what you want? For me to be perfect like you?"

Jason shook his head. "I'm not! That's the whole point, and you're not getting it! I'm trying to help you and I'm trying to defend you, but you're just an asshole all the time!"

"Well, sorry I keep disappointing you!" Finn scowled.

"This!" he cried. "This is what I'm talking about! What are you so defensive about? It's me, Finn! You've never had to hide from me before. You still don't."

Finn's face cracked, but only for a second. "I do, because you look at me like that!"

"How do I look at you, Finn?"

"Like everyone else!" her voice wavered out. "And I feel like I need to be different for you, but I just can't fucking do that!"

"You seriously don't get that I just—" Jason groaned, throwing his head back. "It's not about a superiority, savior complex thing!"

"It feels like it!"

"It's not! Not with you!"

"Then what else could it possibly be?!"

Jason acted on impulse—a thing that he'd never done once in his life. He grabbed Finn by the sides of her face and pulled her up into a kiss.

It didn't seem like much if you just looked at it. Two thirteen-year-olds having their first ever kisses. The taller blonde boy holding onto her face like she was slipping from his fingers. The shorter copper-haired girl flinching like she'd never expected something like this to happen to her. His lips sent a jolt through her, sharp and soft at once, like electricity arcing between them.

Before she could process any of it, he'd made the mistake of opening his eyes for a moment. He caught sight of something out the corner of his eyes.

Jason shoved Finn away.

"R-Reyna!"

A girl with black, glossy hair glared at the two kids with her cold eyes. Her scowl was so fierce that it could probably kill armies. It made Jason back up from Finn even further, ignoring the betrayed look in her eyes completely.

The vision dissipated after that.

Jason felt frozen in time. He felt like his entire life was a lie, like he didn't even know himself. He was replaying everything in his mind with so much thought that he felt an oncoming headache.

"It was always more to me," Finn admitted in defeat, voice faltering. She barely sounded human. "Everything was always more to me."

Keep going, Cupid goaded.

Jason caught Finn sniffling and trying to discreetly wipe a sort of wetness off her cheek. "I was in love with Jason Grace. I never hated him."

Those last words came out as a whisper.

She sounded so scared.

Jason just wanted to protect her.

Jason just wanted to scream.

Cupid became visible—a lean, muscular young man with snowy white wings, straight black hair, a simple white frock and jeans. The bow and quiver slung over his shoulder were no toys—they were weapons of war. His eyes were as red as blood, as if every Valentine in the world had been squeezed dry, distilled into one poisonous mixture. His face was handsome, but also harsh—as difficult to look at as a spotlight. He watched Finn and Nico with satisfaction, as if he'd identified the exact spots for his next arrows to make a clean kill.

"Well, there you have it," Nico spat. "You made us do it. Are you happy now?"

For the first time, Cupid's gaze seemed sympathetic. "Oh, I wouldn't say Love always makes you happy." His voice sounded smaller, much more human. "Sometimes it makes you incredibly sad. But at least you've faced it. Well"—his eyes flickered to Finn—"most of it, anyway. That's the only way to conquer me."

Cupid dissolved into the wind.

On the ground where he'd stood lay an ivory staff three feet long, topped with a dark globe of polished marble about the size of a baseball, nestled on the backs of three gold Roman eagles. The scepter of Diocletian.

No one moved.

"Finn—"

"Nico," Finn cut Jason off, "are you okay?"

He was quiet for long enough that he had time to kneel and pick up the scepter. The two of them shared meaningful eye contact that Jason wasn't privy to. Both of them almost seemed like they were waiting for an attack.

Nico worried, "If the others found out—"

"If the others found out," Jason said, "you'd have that many more people to back you up, and to unleash the fury of the gods on anybody who gives you trouble."

He scowled. Jason still felt the resentment and anger rippling off him.

"But it's your call," Jason added. "Your decision to share or not. I can only tell you—"

"I don't feel that way anymore," Nico muttered. "I mean... I gave up on Percy. I was young and impressionable, and I—I don't..."

His voice cracked, and Jason saw he was struggling to achieve dry eyes. Whether Nico had really given up on Percy or not, Jason couldn't image what it had been like for Nico all those years, keeping a secret that would've been unthinkable to share in the 1940s, denying who he was, feeling completely alone—even more isolated than other demigods.

Finn had been keeping a secret for years too. While on a much smaller scale, to Jason, it felt even bigger. Maybe it wasn't a secret. Maybe Jason knew the whole time, but he was just that much of an asshole in his past that it didn't matter if Finn spoke up about it or not. He felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him. Everything he thought he knew about Finn, about their friendship, about himself, seemed to unravel in that moment. The weight of her confession pressed against his chest, squeezing the air out of him. Just days ago he was yelling at Finn for pulling the plug on their friendship. But now he wondered how much of that had been his fault, how many times he'd hurt her without knowing. Guilt and confusion swirled inside him, and for the first time in his life, Jason Grace felt completely untethered.

"Nico," Finn said gently, "I've seen a lot of brave things. But what you just did? That was maybe the bravest."

Nico looked at her uncertainly. "I'm... sorry for making you come along. You were brave too."

"I really—" her voice broke. She shook her head. "I really wasn't."

Jason's devastation took hold of his heart. "Finn, I—"

"Don't," she interrupted, her voice steadier now. "You don't have to do that. I know. Just... it's out there now, and I can't change it."

Jason frowned, but he didn't press her. Instead, he nodded, a silent promise of understanding. He couldn't promise that they wouldn't talk about this later, though.

"Just let me help you up," he murmured. "You can't stand with your knee."

The trio looked down at her previously-crushed knee. It was red and swollen and bruising, and Finn didn't seem able to straighten her leg all the way. She sighed, another defeat for her to process.

"Whatever. We should get back to the ship."

"Yeah. I can fly us—"

"No," Nico announced. "This time we're shadow-traveling. I've had enough of the winds for a while."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

BAILEY YAPS...

FINLEY BRIGGS😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I JUST GOT SHOT IN THE CHEST BY A JINLEY LORE DROP!!!

Okay so after 59 chapters the cat (Jinley kiss) is finally out of the bag. I know I'm acting nonchalant but I am so chalant right now. I've never been more chalant

Also Jason is the only other person besides Finley who calls Finley "Finn" in his pov 

Jinley deserves so much better than me I need to leave these kids alone

Sometimes family is just gay son, pining mother, and clueless father