This Cold Year ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase²

―x. definitely not jealous

PERCY WAS GLAD RIPTIDE HAD RETURNED to his pocket. Judging from Reyna's expression, he thought he might need to defend himself. 

She stormed into the principia with her purple cloak billowing, and her greyhounds at her feet. Percy was sitting in one of the praetor chairs that he'd pulled to the visitor's side, which maybe wasn't the proper thing to do. He started to get up. 

"Stay seated," she growled. "You leave after lunch. We have a lot to discuss."

She plunked her dagger so hard, the jelly-bean bowl rattled. Aurum and Argentum took their posts on her left and right and fixed their ruby eyes on Percy.

"What'd I do wrong?" Percy asked. "If it's about the chair—"

"It's not you." Reyna scowled. "I hate senate meetings. When Octavian gets talking..."

Percy nodded. "You're a warrior. Octavian is a talker. Put him in front of the senate, and suddenly he becomes the powerful one."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're smarter than you look."

"Gee, thanks. I hear Octavian might get elected praetor, assuming the camp survives that long."

"Which brings us to the subject of doomsday," Reyna said, "and how you might help prevent it. But before I place the fate of Camp Jupiter in your hands, we need to get a few things straight."

She sat down and put a ring on her table—a band of silver etched with a sword-and-torch design. "Do you know what that is?"

"The sign of your mom," Percy said. "The... uh, war goddess."

"Bellona, yes." Reyna scrutinized him carefully. "You don't remember where you saw this ring before? You really don't remember me or my sister, Hylla?"

Percy shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"It would've been four years ago."

"Just before you came to camp."

Reyna frowned. "How did you—?"

"You've got four stripes on your tattoo. Four years."

Reyna looked at her forearm. "Of course. It seems so long ago. I suppose you wouldn't recall me even if you had your memory. I was just a little girl—one attendant among so many at the spa. It was Naomi I actually spoke with. But all three of you spoke with my sister, just before you and that other one, Annabeth, destroyed our home."

Percy tried to remember. For some reason, he, Naomi, and Annabeth had visited a spa and decided to destroy it. He couldn't imagine why. Maybe they hadn't liked the deep-tissue massage? Maybe they'd gotten bad manicures?

"It's a blank," he said. "Since your dogs aren't attacking me, I hope you'll believe me. I'm telling the truth."

Aurum and Argentum snarled, as if thinking, Please lie. Please lie.

Reyna tapped the silver ring. "I believe you're sincere," she said. "But not everyone at camp does. Octavian thinks you're a spy. He thinks you were sent by Gaea to find our weaknesses and distract us. He believes the old legends about the Greeks."

"Old legends?" Percy questioned.

"Some believe Greek demigods still exist," Reyna explained, "heroes who follow the older forms of the gods. There are legends of battles between Roman and Greek heroes in relatively modern times—the American Civil War, for instance. I have no proof of this, and if our Lares know anything, they refuse to say. But Octavian believes the Greeks are still around, plotting our downfall, working with the forces of Gaea. He thinks you are one of them."