Where You Go ― Jason Grace

iii. would you rather: hypothermia or drowning?

AS THE CHARIOT soared through the sky, off to who-knows-where with a potentially homicidal blonde girl and an overly buff guy who looked like he could easily throw her Ophelia off the chariot if he was so inclined, she decided she liked flying with Jason better. 

He stood next to her, looking out at the horizon with a troubled look on his face that seemed to mirror her own confused state. She studied his face for a moment while he was distracted, taking in the features that were so familiar, despite the fact that Ophelia didn't have any clear memories of his face before waking up on the bus. It was a strange and exceedingly frustrated feeling—to be so sure she knew him, but be unable to locate him in her memories. 

Or rather, to have no memories to even locate him in. 

He was handsome, but Ophelia had known that from the moment she first saw him that afternoon. A few strands of his blond hair fell over his forehead, ending an inch above his brows, and Ophelia was struck with the thought that he hadn't had a haircut in a while, but she wasn't sure why she thought that. His eyes were a mirror of the sky on a sunny, cloudless day—nothing like the grey, stormy sky they were currently flying through. She noticed a tiny scar on his upper lip, and she wondered if he'd told her how he'd gotten it, if that knowledge was locked away with the rest of her memories. 

Jason pulled his eyes away from the horizon, meeting her gaze. His lips tilted upward in a small, nervous smile, and he reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. It felt so natural it was almost frightening. 

"This is so cool!" Leo yelled. He spit a pegasus feather out of his mouth, sputtering for a moment. "Where are we going?" 

"A safe place," Annabeth answered. She'd been quiet since they took off, and there was something sad in her eyes as they looked out at the horizon. "The only safe place for kids like us. Camp Half-Blood." 

"Half-blood?" Piper crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes hard as she scowled at Annabeth. "Is that some kind of bad joke?" 

"She means we're demigods," Jason said. "Half god, half mortal." 

Annabeth glanced back at him. "You seem to know a lot, Jason," she said, her tone suspicious. "But yes, demigods. My mom is Athena, goddess of wisdom. Butch here is the son of Iris, the rainbow goddess." 

Leo choked on a laugh he tried to suppress. "Your mom is a rainbow goddess?" 

"Got a problem with that?" Butch said. 

"No, no," Leo said. "Rainbows. Very macho."

"Butch is our best equestrian," Annabeth told them. "He gets along great with the pegasi." 

"Rainbows, ponies," Leo muttered. 

"I'm going to toss you off this chariot," Butch warned. 

"Demigods," Piper said. "You mean you think you're... you think we're—"

Lightning flashed through the sky. The chariot shuddered and Jason yelled, "Left wheel's on fire!" 

Ophelia looked over and sure enough, it was burning, white flames beginning to lick up the side of the chariot. The wind roared around them with a vengeance. She glanced behind them and saw dark shapes forming in the clouds—more venti spiraling toward the chariot, though these looked more like horses than angels. 

Piper started to say, "Why are they—?" 

"Anemoi come in different shapes," Annabeth explained. "Sometimes human, sometimes stallions, depending on how chaotic they are. Hold on. This is going to get rough."