With the beast dead, the two could search the ir and adjoining rooms safely, gathering clothing, tools, and anything else that might help them survive. In addition, Jason managed to rig together another backpack, packing it with half a dozen beeswax candles, several torches, a couple of flints, a jar that might contain mp oil, and a supply of rolled bandages.

  “It's almost like we're on a camping trip,” Annabeth chirped as she tried to brush the dirt off an extra bedroll that wasn’t falling apart.

  Jason grunted, not finding anything amusing about their situation.

  He also managed to uncover a small stash of gold and assorted coins, which he added to the leather coin purse he had discovered earlier. Hopefully, they will actually get a chance to spend some of it.

  Weapons, at least, were easier to deal with. Three more daggers, Annabeth’s sword, and a mace joined their collection. The thing was awkward as hell to wield, but Jason tucked it into his belt anyway.

  Annabeth focused on protection: metal gauntlets, arm guards, and a sturdy helmet. It needed a bit of padding to fit properly, but she seemed happy. None of the other armor pieces they found fit Jason, so they were discarded. Still, the two mail shirts uncovered were left in the fountain room with the rest of the gear that couldn’t be carried. Maybe, with the right tools, one could be salvaged.

  What caught his attention most was a rosewood box, carved with the symbol of a tree. Inside, nestled in thick padding, were six small bottles.

  “Potions?” Annabeth asked, lifting one out carefully.

  “Most likely,” Jason said. “Two are missing. But the rest are magical.”

  “You can tell?” she raised an eyebrow.

  “More than before. I’m getting better at it.”

  “Cool, do you know what they do?”

  Jason frowned. “Not a clue. The symbols might be ancient Sumerian, for all I know.”

  They made one final trip to the creatures' ir to pray for the dead. Neither was particurly religious—Jason’s father was a psed Catholic, and his mother was Jewish. When he was younger, he went to Temple with her a few times a year, but it had been a while.

  Annabeth’s parents were Methodists; she attended church on Easter and Christmas and recently for a wedding, one where the father of the bride fainted during communion.

  Still, praying and thanking the dead for the items they would use to save their lives felt like the right thing to do.

  After rinsing off the rest of the water bottles, the two agreed to search for another fountain in the morning. Annabeth’s theory—that there had to be more water—made sense. Worst case, they’d have to return.

  “Guess we’ll have to leave the rest of our stuff here,” Jason said, frustrated.

  “No helping it.” Annabeth grabbed a few more torches and slipped them into her pack. “Too bad your backpack isn’t magical.”

  “Better than nothing.” Jason sighed and unrolled the older bedroll, checking the other. It had been rinsed and was drying slowly.

  “I think it will be okay to sleep on.”

  “Good,” Annabeth settled onto the floor and began pulling out dinner. “We’re going to start having food problems pretty soon.”

  Opening the bag of dried fruit, she frowned at what was left and pondered. “Think we could eat those creatures we killed?”

  Jason nearly choked on his water. “You’re joking.”

  “Not entirely.”

  “I mean, how does it work—just start hacking meat off them and cook it?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve seen worse on those cooking shows you love to watch.”

  Jason stared at her.

  Annabeth held up her hands. “Okay, okay. But remember, I told you my cousin used to take me bow hunting? She and her dad also taught me how to dress game. These knives are sharp enough. We could skin them, too. That alligator thing probably tastes like chicken.”

  Jason’s eyes twitched—not at the idea of butchering, he loved meat, but at the thought that the monster that nearly took off his arm might taste like something you’d toss with buffalo sauce.

  “Have you?”

  “Last time I went out was a couple of years ago. Bagged a Sika deer on my uncle’s nd. Dierdra helped me dress it,” she said with a shrug. “Filled my mom’s freezer.”

  Trying to figure out when she went hunting, or if Greg had joined them, he realized he no longer cared. Indifference was much healthier than anger anyway.

  Instead, Jason chewed on a piece of ftbread and stared at the dried meat they’d been eating. Who knew what it was made of?

  “Better than starving, I guess.”

  The rest of the meal was done in silence, but once everything was put away, Annabeth removed her armor and the rest of her clothes.

  “I’m going to clean off a little.” She said, wandering off.

  Jason rolled his eyes. “I noticed. Do you want to go to sleep first?”

  “No, you go ahead.”

  Nodding, Jason stored his stuff and began preparing for bed. Deciding that he had worn a bra long enough, he reached for the hem of his tunic but stopped, finding his ex staring at him.

  Instead, with a smug look, he reached around, uncsped his bra, slipped his hand into the tunic's sleeve, fiddled with the straps, and suddenly pulled it out without removing his tunic.

  “Huh,” Annabeth gave a slow golf cp, sounding disappointed. “Didn’t know you knew how to do that.”

  “Amazing what you can learn on the internet,” Jason said, grabbing the other tunic and making it a pillow. “Night.”

  Sometime ter, he felt someone shaking him. “Time to wake up.”

  Shifting, he looked up to find Annabeth staring at him.

  “Go ahead, I’m up.”

  Surprised to find her dressed, he rolled up the sleeping bag and went off to check on the other things left to dry. Truthfully, he was only making busy work, waiting until Annabeth fell asleep.

  Finally, after ensuring his backpack wouldn't fall apart, Jason watched her for a moment. Satisfied, he walked over to the fountain, stripping off his clothes on the way, then paused.

  Like before, it took him a few moments of contemption before Jason finally got over it and started to clean himself properly. He even killed two birds with one stone, gently washing his clothes before setting them out to dry.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, wishing this nightmare would end.

  He would be thrilled if he woke up tomorrow and discovered the whole thing was a dream, even with Annabeth’s betrayal. Because this body was beginning to feel less alien as time passed, and it terrified him.

  The only consotion was that he could switch them back if he learned enough magic or found the right spells. Of course, with how Annabeth acted, would she even agree to do it?

  After drying off, ignoring how certain parts of his body reacted to the cold air, he pced a hand on one clean garment in particur. Fabrics generally disintegrate over time, and even leather wasn’t immune.

  The garment—well, dress, he might as well call it for what it was—y intact. It was sea blue, with intricate gold flowers sewn into the neck, hem, and sleeves. Admittedly, it was quite beautiful.

  But like everything else, it had been filthy, covered in grime and dried blood for God knows how long. It was one of the st things he brought back, although he immediately noticed it, being one of the few magical items in the room. It took no effort to clean, the dirt seemly just falling off.

  Running his hand over the fabric, he pondered the st owner. Was it an adventurer, a mourner, or maybe a priestess?

  “Needs must,” he whispered.

  Amazingly, if not impossible, it fit perfectly. It had to be magic, as it settled on his body. What pleased him the most was that he wouldn’t need to wear a bra; some sort of magic support was built in.

  “And now the slippers.”

  He scrubbed his feet again before putting them on, which, like the dress, fit perfectly—unlike the ill-fitting dead man’s shoes he had been forced to wear.

  Several other items that must have been part of the outfit were uncovered. One was a silver chain belt, which now sat perfectly on his hips. Surprisingly, the mace and her knife fit and didn’t drag the belt down.

  He twisted back and forth, taking a good look at himself. Thankfully, he soon discovered that he had no issues moving around in it.

  “God, you're beautiful.”

  Jason jumped, noticing that Annabeth was sitting up.

  “How long have you been awake?”

  “Long enough,” she said, giving her a cheerful leer. “Come on, spin around, let me see.”

  “Must you be such an ass?”

  “Please,” she begged him.

  “Fine, whatever.” Jason did as he was told. “Happy now?”

  “Yes, and I will repeat myself: you’re so damn beautiful.”

  Rolling his eyes, he quickly pointed out. “That just makes you a narcissist, Annabeth. Remember this is still your body.”

  “Perhaps I am, but still.”

  “Well, now that you’ve had your fun, go back to sleep,” Jason brushed her off. “Oh, before you do…”

  He then struck a pose and said, “And let there be light.”

  Suddenly, a bright white globe appeared above him, illuminating the room.

  “Holy shit, that’s so cool. How long will it st?”

  “No clue. This is the first time casting it, but I will leave it up for now. Maybe you’ll gain a new skill if you actually go to sleep instead of being a perv.”

  Annabeth raised her hands in surrender. “I get it, good night.”