Chapter Text
“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.
Something about this place seemed even creepier than the palace basement in Split. Jason had never thought much about Cupid. He’d certainly never thought of Cupid as scary. Even for Roman demigods, the name conjured up an image of a silly winged baby with a toy bow and arrow, flying around in his diapers on Valentine’s Day.
“Oh, he’s not like that,” said Favonius.
Jason flinched. “You can read my mind?”
“I don’t need to.” Favonius tossed his bronze hoop in the air. “Everyone has the wrong impression of Cupid. . . until they meet him.”
Nico braced himself against a column, his legs trembling visibly.
“Hey, man. . .” Jason stepped towards him, but Nico waved him off.
At Nico’s feet, the grass turned brown and wilted.
The dead patch spread outwards, as if poison were seeping from the soles of his shoes.
“Ah. . .” Favonius nodded sympathetically. “I don’t blame you for being nervous, Nico di Angelo. Do you know how I ended up serving Cupid?”
“I don’t care,” Nico muttered.
Favonius continued as if he hadn’t heard. “I fell in love with a mortal named Hyacinthus. He was exceptional. I was smitten in one glimpse, the legendary ‘love at first sight.’ But what I hoped he and I would have for all time. . . it was only momentary.”
“He. . . ?” Jason’s brain was still fuzzy from his wind trip, so it took him a second to process that. “Oh. . .”
“Yes, Jason Grace.” Favonius arched an eyebrow. “I fell in love with a dude. Surely that doesn't shock you.”
Nico turned to Jason with a questioning look. Jason ignored it and cleared his throat. When he blinked, he saw brown eyes with gold flecks on the back of his eyelids. “I guess not. So. . . Cupid struck you with his arrow, and you fell in love.”
Favonius snorted. “You make it sound so simple. Alas, love is never simple. You see, the god Apollo also liked Hyacinthus. One day I came across them together, playing a game of quoits –”
“Quoits?” Jason interrupted.
“A game with those hoops,” Nico explained, though his voice was brittle. “Like horseshoes.”
“Sort of,” Favonius said, spinning his quoit(?) around his arm like a kid with a hula-hoop. “Sometimes. . . you're so in love that you act insane. Instead of confronting them, I shifted the wind and sent a heavy metal ring right at Hyacinthus’s head and … well.” The wind god sighed. “As Hyacinthus died, Apollo turned him into a flower, the hyacinth. I’m sure Apollo would’ve taken horrible vengeance on me, but Cupid offered me his protection. I’d done a terrible thing, but I’d been driven mad by love, so he spared me, on the condition that I work for him forever.”
CUPID.
The name echoed through the ruins again.
“That would be my cue.” Favonius stood. “Think long and hard about how you proceed, Nico di Angelo. You cannot lie to Cupid. If you let your anger rule you. . . well, your fate will be even sadder than mine.”
Favonius addressed Nico, but looked Jason in the eye, and Jason had a feeling the advice was for both of them. The wind god disappeared in a swirl of red and gold. The summer air suddenly felt oppressive. The ground shook, and Jason and Nico drew their swords.
So.
The voice rushed past Jason’s ear like a bullet. When he turned, no one was there.
You come to claim the sceptre.
Nico stood at his back, and for once Jason was glad to have the guy’s company.
“Cupid,” Jason called, “where are you?”
The voice laughed. It definitely didn’t sound like a cute baby angel’s. 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.
You are not as steady as you think, Jason Grace. Cupid’s voice whirled around him. You cannot withstand me because you stand in the wrong place. You know where your feet belong, yet you refuse to take the step. Why?
Nico scrambled down the steps. “You okay? Also, what is he talking about?”
Jason accepted his hand and got to his feet. “I'm good, just winded. And — I have no idea.”
But he did know. It was the truth he was always dancing around.
“It’s not fair to attack us invisibly,” growled Nico.
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 towards Nico’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. Jason 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.
Ask your friends, Cupid said. Frank, Hazel and Percy met my counterpart, Thanatos. We are not so different. Except Death is sometimes kinder.
“We just want the sceptre!” Nico shouted. “We’re trying to stop Gaia. 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.”
Jason felt movement behind him and 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 true love is more than most heroes manage.
“So now I get the sceptre?” Jason asked.
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.
Jason wavered. He was an officer of Rome. He was a 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 that 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. Nico gasped as it sank into his sword arm.
“Nico!”
The son of Hades stumbled. The arrow glowed like the sun and then dissolved, leaving no blood and no visible wound, but Nico’s face was tight with rage and pain.
“Enough!” Nico 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 aeons 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 amphitheatre 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, forced Psyche to either prove her love or walk away from me. She was tormented, forced into exile, given horrible tasks. She was even sent to the Underworld on a quest. She earned her way back to my side, but she suffered greatly.
Now I’ve got you, Jason thought.
He thrust his sword skyward and thunder shook the valley. Lightning blasted a crater where the voice had been speaking.
Silence. Jason was just thinking, Dang, 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. It will always dance through the lightning strikes.
Next to him, a wall collapsed. Jason barely managed to roll aside.
“Stop it!” Nico yelled. “It’s me you want. Leave him alone!”
Jason’s ears rang. He was dizzy from getting smacked around.
That’s where you’re wrong, Son of Hades, said Cupid. Love demands everything from you, especially the truth. All who come before me with secrets and lies will be made to confess.
“I’ve been to Tartarus and back,” Nico snarled. “You don’t scare me.”
I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.
Jason pulled himself up. All around Nico, 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 sceptre,” 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 is the forge fire that purifies the iron. It is the wild wind that breaks all but the strongest things in its path. It is the flood that takes villages.
Jason retrieved his sword. If this invisible guy was Love, Jason was beginning to think Love was overrated. He liked Piper’s version better – considerate, kind and beautiful.
Oh, yes. Piper McLean, Cupid said, as though he’d read Jason’s mind. The one you pretend to love.
“I do love Piper,” Jason protested. It was the truth - Piper was the best person Jason knew. He would trust her with his life, or forfeit his life for her.
You speak of philia. I speak of eros. Cupid's echoey whisper sounded right behind Jason, and he spun around to find empty air. She is not the one who consumes your mind and stirs your desire.
A freckled face framed by curly black hair flashed through Jason's mind. He tried to push the treacherous pang of wanting away. He usually kept his longings locked inside a vault in his mind.
But we will get to you later, son of Jupiter. For now, Nico di Angelo.
“Nico,” Jason called, “what does this guy want from you?”
Tell him, son of the Underworld, Cupid said. Tell him you are a coward, afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him the real reason you ran away from Camp Half-Blood, and why you are always alone.
Nico let out a guttural scream. The ground at his feet split open and skeletons crawled forth – dead Romans with missing hands and caved-in skulls, cracked ribs and jaws unhinged. Some were dressed in the remnants of togas. Others had glinting pieces of armour hanging off their chests.
Will you hide among the dead, as you always do? Cupid taunted.
Waves of darkness rolled off the son of Hades. When they hit Jason, he almost lost consciousness – overwhelmed by hatred and fear and shame. . .
Images flashed through his mind. With a start, he realized he was witnessing Nico's memories. 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 try to keep his sister Bianca safe. Nico had believed him. Nico had looked into his sea-green eyes and thought, How can he possibly fail? This is a real hero. He was Nico’s favourite game, Mythomagic, brought to life.
Jason saw the moment when Percy returned 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 Percy on the banks of the Styx, cutting down an entire skeleton army. Percy in a New York apartment, holding out a slice of blue cake. Percy sprinting towards danger instead of away, again and again.
The strength of the emotions stupefied Jason.
Meanwhile, Nico’s skeletons surged forward and grappled with something invisible. The god struggled, flinging the dead aside, breaking off ribs and skulls, but the skeletons kept coming, pinning the god’s arms.
Interesting! Cupid said. Do you have the strength, after all?
“I left Camp Half-Blood because of love,” Nico said. “Annabeth. . . she –”
Still hiding, Cupid said, smashing another skeleton to pieces. You do not have the strength.
“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 don’t have friends!” Nico yelled. “I left Camp Half-Blood because I don’t belong! I’ll never belong!”
The skeletons had Cupid pinned now, but the invisible god laughed so cruelly that Jason wanted to summon another bolt of lightning. Unfortunately, he hadn't recovered his full strength after the last one.
“Leave him alone, Cupid,” Jason croaked. “This isn’t right.”
The story of Psyche finally made sense to him – why a mortal girl would be so afraid. Why she would risk breaking the rules to look the god of love in the face, because she feared he might be a monster.
Psyche had been right. Cupid was a monster. Love was the most savage monster of all.
Nico’s voice was like broken glass. “I – I wasn’t in love with Annabeth.”
“You envied her,” Jason said. “That’s why you didn’t want to be around her. Or him.”
All the fight and denial seemed to go out of Nico at once. He fell to his knees as the darkness subsided. The skeletons collapsed with him and crumbled to dust.
“I hated myself,” Nico said. “I hated Percy, and Annabeth, and everyone.”
The air in front of them shimmered. Cupid became visible – a lean, muscular young man with snowy white wings, straight black hair, a simple white tunic and jeans. The bow and quiver slung over his shoulder were no toys – they were weapons of war. He looked as though he'd recently been to war too — his knuckles were bruised violet, as though he’d been sucker punching walls. His eyes were deep red, as if every valentine in the world had been squeezed dry, distilled into one poisonous mixture, so scarlet it was almost maroon. His face was handsome, but also harsh – as difficult to look at as a spotlight. He watched Nico with satisfaction, as if he’d identified the exact spot for his next arrow to make a clean kill.
“I had a crush on Percy,” Nico spat. “That’s the truth. That’s the big secret.” He glared at Cupid. “Happy now?”
“Both of you came to me,” said Cupid. His voice seemed much smaller and more human now. “Both of you must give your hearts as offerings to receive my help.” He turned and fixed those red eyes on Jason. “You must confess now. Your cowardice. Your pretentions. The love you deny. Lay it before us, Jason Grace. Prove to Nico di Angelo that you understand him.”
Jason sat down beside Nico. His hands trembled. The misery on Nico’s face was still visible behind the quizzical look he gave Jason now.
Jason took a deep breath. He opened up the vault in his mind and allowed the feelings he'd been suppressing to take shape, become thoughts, become words.
“When Hera displaced me and wiped my memory, she gave both Piper and Leo false memories of me.” Jason kept his eyes on Nico, not on Cupid, as he spoke. “Piper knew me as her boyfriend, Leo knew me as his best friend.”
Jason recalled it. Waking up in that bus sitting between two strangers, not knowing who he was or how he got there. All he knew was that they said hello, and Leo’s eyes looked like coming home. Everything about his life had changed after that.
“I went along with it because. . . I thought it made sense. Piper is beautiful, sweet, smart, and brave. She's easy to be with. I thought I would fall for her. I thought I should fall for her. But. . . I didn't.”
“You fell for someone else,” said Cupid. “And you drag this out because it’s easier than facing yourself and who you truly want. My mortal sister deserves the chance to find real love.”
“She does,” agreed Jason, suddenly processing the fact that Cupid and Piper were indeed half-siblings.
A steely resolve began to set in Jason’s chest. He knew what he had to do when they got back to the ship. But for now, he still had to make the confession.
“So tell us, Jason Grace,” demanded Cupid. “Who do you love?”
“Leo,” Jason whispered, too quietly for either of his companions to hear. He cleared his throat and spoke out loud. “I’m in love with Leo Valdez. I have been since my second week of knowing him.”
Nico’s eyes were wide and his mouth formed a little “o.” Jason smiled shakily.
“The offering is complete,” announced Cupid. When Jason looked up, he thought he saw something like sympathy in Cupid's face. “You have faced yourselves. 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 sceptre of Diocletian.
Nico knelt and picked it up. He regarded Jason guardedly, but without the usual suspicion that labelled everyone Nico looked at as a potential attacker. “If the others found out. . .”
“You shouldn't have been forced to come out before you were ready. I won't tell anyone. But if the others did find 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.”
Nico scowled. Jason still felt the resentment and anger rippling off him. “I don’t feel that way about Percy anymore,” Nico muttered. “I mean. . . I was young and impressionable, and I – I don’t. . .”
His voice cracked, and Jason could tell the guy was about to get teary-eyed.
“Dude,” Jason said, “Nobody onboard would blame you for being into Percy. Past or present. Everyone's into Percy. Hazel thought he was a minor god the first time she saw him. One time we played ‘Fuck, Marry, Kill’ and everyone chose Fuck for Percy, except Annabeth, who chose Marry. Another time, we played ‘Smash or Pass’ and everyone chose Smash for Percy. Even Frank said that Percy is so objectively hot that he would want the bragging rights even though he’s one hundred percent straight.”
Nico cracked a smile. It was a small, crooked smile, but it was real. It transformed him from a terror into someone Jason wished he knew.
Whether Nico had really gotten over Percy or not, Jason couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Nico. Jason had been born in the ‘90s and had still spent years denying who he was, feeling completely alone, spineless in his tomb of silence. Nico was from the 1940s. Jason took his pain and fear and mentally multiplied it by ten. It was an incredible burden to bear.
“Nico,” he said, “Cupid compared us. But you were from a far more dangerous time. The only coward here is me. You are stronger and braver than me by far.”
Nico looked up uncertainly and blinked as though he wasn't sure how to respond. “We should get back to the ship.”
“Yeah. I can fly us –”
“No,” Nico interrupted. “This time we’re shadow-travelling. I’ve had enough of the winds for a while.”