The Lost Hero (The Heroes of Olympus, Book 1)
The Lost Hero: Chapter 21

PIPER DIDN’T RELAX UNTIL THE GLOW OF Quebec City faded behind them.

“You were amazing,” Jason told her.

The compliment should’ve made her day. But all she could think about was the trouble ahead. Evil things are stirring,Zethes had warned them. She knew that firsthand. The closer they got to the solstice, the less time Piper had to make her decision.

She told Jason in French: “If you knew the truth about me, you wouldn’t think I was so amazing.”

“What’d you say?” he asked.

“I said I only talked to Boreas. It wasn’t so amazing.”

She didn’t turn to look, but she imagined him smiling.

“Hey,” he said, “you saved me from joining Khione’s subzero hero collection. I owe you one.”

That was definitely the easy part, she thought. There was no way Piper would’ve let that ice witch keep Jason. What bothered Piper more was the way Boreas had changed form, and why he’d let them go. It had something to do with Jason’s past, those tattoos on his arm. Boreas assumed Jason was some sort of Roman, and Romans didn’t mix with Greeks. She kept waiting for Jason to offer an explanation, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

Until now, Piper had been able to dismiss Jason’s feeling that he didn’t belong at Camp Half-Blood. Obviously he was a demigod. Of course he belonged. But now … what if he was something else? What if he really was an enemy? She couldn’t stand that idea any more than she could stand Khione.

Leo passed them some sandwiches from his pack. He’d been quiet ever since they’d told him what happened in the throne room. “I still can’t believe Khione,” he said. “She looked so nice.”

“Trust me, man,” Jason said. “Snow may be pretty, but up close it’s cold and nasty. We’ll replace you a better prom date.”

Piper smiled, but Leo didn’t look pleased. He hadn’t said much about his time in the palace, or why the Boreads had singled him out for smelling like fire. Piper got the feeling he was hiding something. Whatever it was, his mood seemed to be affecting Festus, who grumbled and steamed as he tried to keep himself warm in the cold Canadian air. Happy the Dragon was not so happy.

They ate their sandwiches as they flew. Piper had no idea how Leo had stocked up on supplies, but he’d even remembered to bring veggie rations for her. The cheese and avocado sandwich was awesome.

Nobody talked. Whatever they might replace in Chicago, they all knew Boreas had only let them go because he figured they were already on a suicide mission.

The moon rose and stars turned overhead. Piper’s eyes started to feel heavy. The encounter with Boreas and his children had scared her more than she wanted to admit. Now that she had a full stomach, her adrenaline was fading.

Suck it up, cupcake! Coach Hedge would’ve yelled at her. Don’t be a wimp!

Piper had been thinking about the coach ever since Boreas mentioned he was still alive. She’d never liked Hedge, but he’d leaped off a cliff to save Leo, and he’d sacrificed himself to protect them on the skywalk. She now realized that all the times at school the coach had pushed her, yelled at her to run faster or do more push-ups, or even when he’d turned his back and let her fight her own battles with the mean girls, the old goat man had been trying to help her in his own irritating way—trying to prepare her for life as a demigod.

On the skywalk, Dylan the storm spirit had said something about the coach, too: how he’d been retired to Wilderness School because he was getting too old, like it was some sort of punishment. Piper wondered what that was about, and if it explained why the coach was always so grumpy. Whatever the truth, now that Piper knew Hedge was alive, she had a strong compulsion to save him.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, she chided. You’ve got bigger problems. This trip won’t have a happy ending.

She was a traitor, just like Silena Beauregard. It was only a matter of time before her friends found out.

She looked up at the stars and thought about a night long ago when she and her dad had camped out in front of Grandpa Tom’s house. Grandpa Tom had died years before, but Dad had kept his house in Oklahoma because it was where he grew up.

They’d gone back for a few days, with the idea of getting the place fixed up to sell, although Piper wasn’t sure who’d want to buy a run-down cabin with shutters instead of windows and two tiny rooms that smelled like cigars. The first night had been so stifling hot—no air conditioning in the middle of August—that Dad suggested they sleep outside.

They’d spread their sleeping bags and listened to the cicadas buzzing in the trees. Piper pointed out the constellations she’d been reading about—Hercules, Apollo’s lyre, Sagittarius the centaur.

Her dad crossed his arms behind his head. In his old T-shirt and jeans he looked like just another guy from Tahlequah, Oklahoma, a Cherokee who might’ve never left tribal lands. “Your grandpa would say those Greek patterns are a bunch of bull. He told me the stars were creatures with glowing fur, like magic hedgehogs. Once, long ago, some hunters even captured a few in the forest. They didn’t know what they’d done until nighttime, when the star creatures began to glow. Golden sparks flew from their fur, so the Cherokee released them back into the sky.”

“You believe in magic hedgehogs?” Piper asked.

Her dad laughed. “I think Grandpa Tom was full of bull, too, just like the Greeks. But it’s a big sky. I suppose there’s room for Hercules and hedgehogs.”

They sat for a while, until Piper got the nerve to ask a question that had been bugging her. “Dad, why don’t you ever play Native American parts?”

The week before, he’d turned down several million dollars to play Tonto in a remake of The Lone Ranger. Piper was still trying to figure out why. He’d played all kinds of roles—a Latino teacher in a tough L.A. school, a dashing Israeli spy in an action-adventure blockbuster, even a Syrian terrorist in a James Bond movie. And, of course, he would always be known as the King of Sparta. But if the part was Native American—it didn’t matter what kind of role it was—Dad turned it down.

He winked at her. “Too close to home, Pipes. Easier to pretend I’m something I’m not.”

“Doesn’t that get old? Aren’t you ever tempted, like, if you found the perfect part that could change people’s opinions?”

“If there’s a part like that, Pipes,” he said sadly, “I haven’t found it.”

She looked at the stars, trying to imagine them as glowing hedgehogs. All she saw were the stick figures she knew—Hercules running across the sky, on his way to kill monsters. Dad was probably right. The Greeks and the Cherokee were equally crazy. The stars were just balls of fire.

“Dad,” she said, “if you don’t like being close to home, why are we sleeping in Grandpa Tom’s yard?”

His laughter echoed in the quiet Oklahoma night. “I think you know me too well, Pipes.”

“You’re not really going to sell this place, are you?”

“Nope,” he sighed. “I’m probably not.”

Piper blinked, shaking herself out of the memory. She realized she’d been falling asleep on the dragon’s back. How could her dad pretend to be so many things he wasn’t? She was trying to do that now, and it was tearing her apart.

Maybe she could pretend for a little while longer. She could dream of replaceing a way to save her father without betraying her friends—even if right now a happy ending seemed about as likely as magic hedgehogs.

She leaned back against Jason’s warm chest. He didn’t complain. As soon she closed her eyes, she drifted off to sleep.

In her dream, she was back on the mountaintop. The ghostly purple bonfire cast shadows across the trees. Piper’s eyes stung from smoke, and the ground was so warm, the soles of her boots felt sticky.

A voice from the dark rumbled, “You forget your duty.”

Piper couldn’t see him, but it was definitely her least favorite giant—the one who called himself Enceladus. She looked around for any sign of her father, but the pole where he’d been chained was no longer there.

“Where is he?” she demanded. “What’ve you done with him?”

The giant’s laugh was like lava hissing down a volcano. “His body is safe enough, though I fear the poor man’s mind can’t take much more of my company. For some reason he replaces me—disturbing. You must hurry, girl, or I fear there will be little left of him to save.”

“Let him go!” she screamed. “Take me instead. He’s just a mortal!”

“But, my dear,” the giant rumbled, “we must prove our love for our parents. That’s what I’m doing. Show me you value your father’s life by doing what I ask. Who’s more important—your father, or a deceitful goddess who used you, toyed with your emotions, manipulated your memories, eh? What is Hera to you?”

Piper began to tremble. So much anger and fear boiled inside her, she could hardly talk. “You’re asking me to betray my friends.”

“Sadly, my dear, your friends are destined to die. Their quest is impossible. Even if you succeeded, you heard the prophecy: unleashing Hera’s rage would mean your destruction. The only question now—will you die with your friends, or live with your father?”

The bonfire roared. Piper tried to step back, but her feet were heavy. She realized the ground was pulling her down, clinging to her boots like wet sand. When she looked up, a shower of purple sparks had spread across the sky, and the sun was rising in the east. A patchwork of cities glowed in the valley below, and far to the west, over a line of rolling hills, she saw a familiar landmark rising from a sea of fog.

“Why are you showing me this?” Piper asked. “You’re revealing where you are.”

“Yes, you know this place,” the giant said. “Lead your friends here instead of their true destination, and I will deal with them. Or even better, arrange their deaths before you arrive. I don’t care which. Just be at the summit by noon on the solstice, and you may collect your father and go in peace.”

“I can’t,” Piper said. “You can’t ask me—”

“To betray that foolish boy Valdez, who always irritated you and is now hiding secrets from you? To give up a boyfriend you never really had? Is that more important than your own father?”

“I’ll replace a way to defeat you,” Piper said. “I’ll save my father and my friends.”

The giant growled in the shadows. “I was once proud too. I thought the gods could never defeat me. Then they hurled a mountain on top of me, crushed me into the ground, where I struggled for eons, half-conscious in pain. That taught me patience, girl. It taught me not to act rashly. Now I’ve clawed my way back with the help of the waking earth. I am only the first. My brethren will follow. We will not be denied our vengeance—not this time. And you, Piper McLean, need a lesson in humility. I’ll show you how easily your rebellious spirit can be brought to earth.”

The dream dissolved. And Piper woke up screaming, free-falling through the air.