Finally he said, “I’m a little tired, guys. You go ahead.”
Hazel and Frank protested, but Percy could tell they wanted some time alone.
As he headed back to camp, he saw Mrs. O’Leary playing with Hannibal in the Field of Mars. Finally, she’d found a playmate she could roughhouse with. They frolicked around, slamming into each other, breaking fortifications, and generally having an excellent time.
At the fort gates, Percy stopped and gazed across the valley. It seemed like so long ago that he’d stood here with Hazel, getting his first good view of camp. Now he was more interested in watching the eastern horizon.
Tomorrow, maybe the next day, his friends from Camp
Half-Blood would arrive. As much as he cared about Camp Jupiter, he couldn’t wait to see Annabeth again. He yearned for his old life—New York and Camp Half-Blood—but something told him it might be a while before he returned home. Gaea and the giants weren’t done causing trouble—not by a long shot.
Reyna had given him the second praetor’s house on the Via Principalis, but as soon as Percy looked inside, he knew he couldn’t stay there. It was nice, but it was also full of Jason Grace’s stuff. Percy already felt uneasy taking Jason’s title of praetor. He didn’t want to take the guy’s house, too. Things would be awkward enough when Jason came back—and Percy was sure that he would be on that dragon-headed warship.
Percy headed back to the Fifth Cohort barracks and climbed into his bunk. He passed out instantly.
He dreamed he was carrying Juno across the Little Tiber.
She was disguised as a crazy old bag lady, smiling and singing an Ancient Greek lullaby as her leathery hands gripped Percy’s neck.
“Do you still want to slap me, dear?” she asked.
Percy stopped midstream. He let go and dumped the goddess in the river.
The moment she hit the water, she vanished and reappeared on the shore. “Oh, my,” she cackled, “that wasn’t very heroic, even in a dream!”
“Eight months,” Percy said. “You stole eight months of my life for a quest that took a week. Why?”
Juno tutted disapprovingly. “You mortals and your short lives. Eight months is nothing, my dear. I lost eight centuries once, missed most of the Byzantine Empire.”
Percy summoned the power of the river. It swirled around him, spinning into a froth of whitewater.
“Now, now,” Juno said. “Don’t get testy. If we are to defeat Gaea, our plans must be timed perfectly. First, I needed Jason and his friends to free me from my prison—”
“Your prison? You were in prison and they let you out?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, dear! I’m a sweet old woman. At any rate, you weren’t needed at Camp Jupiter until now, to save the Romans at their moment of greatest crisis. The eight months between…well, I do have other plans brewing, my boy. Opposing Gaea, working behind Jupiter’s back, protecting your friends—it’s a full-time job! If I had to guard you from Gaea’s monsters and schemes as well, and keep you hidden from your friends back east all that time—no, much better you take a safe nap. You would have been a distraction—a loose cannon.”
“A distraction.” Percy felt the water rising with his anger, spinning faster around him. “A loose cannon.”
“Exactly. I’m glad you understand.”
Percy sent a wave crashing down on the old woman, but Juno simply disappeared and materialized farther down the shore.
“My,” she said, “you are in a bad mood. But you know I’m right. Your timing here was perfect. They trust you now. You are a hero of Rome. And while you slept, Jason Grace has learned to trust the Greeks. They’ve had time to build the Argo II. Together, you and Jason will unite the camps.”
“Why me?” Percy demanded. “You and I never got along. Why would you want a loose cannon on your team?”
“Because I know you, Percy Jackson. In many ways, you are impulsive, but when it comes to your friends, you are as constant as a compass needle. You are unswervingly loyal, and you inspire loyalty. You are the glue that will unite the seven.”
“Great,” Percy said. “I always wanted to be glue.”
Juno laced her crooked fingers. “The Heroes of Olympus must unite! After your victory over Kronos in Manhattan…well, I fear that wounded Jupiter’s self-esteem.”
“Because I was right,” Percy said. “And he was wrong.”
The old lady shrugged. “He should be used to that, after so many eons married to me, but alas! My proud and obstinate husband refuses to ask mere demigods for help again. He believes the giants can be fought without you, and Gaea can be forced back to her slumbers. I know better. But you must prove yourself. Only by sailing to the ancient lands and closing the Doors of Death will you convince Jupiter that you are worthy of fighting side-by-side with the gods. It will be the greatest quest since Aeneas sailed from Troy!”