The Lost Hero (The Heroes of Olympus, Book 1)
The Lost Hero: Chapter 52

PIPER DIDN’T REMEMBER MUCH ABOUT the rest of the night. They told their story and answered a million questions from the other campers, but finally Chiron saw how tired they were and ordered them to bed.

It felt so good to sleep on a real mattress, and Piper was so exhausted, she crashed immediately, which spared her any worry about what it would be like returning to the Aphrodite cabin.

The next morning she woke in her bunk, feeling reinvigorated. The sun came through the windows along with a pleasant breeze. It might’ve been spring instead of winter. Birds sang. Monsters howled in the woods. Breakfast smells wafted from the dining pavilion—bacon, pancakes, and all sorts of wonderful things.

Drew and her gang were frowning down at her, their arms crossed.

“Morning.” Piper sat up and smiled. “Beautiful day.”

“You’re going to make us late for breakfast,” Drew said, “which means you get to clean the cabin for inspection.”

A week ago, Piper would’ve either punched Drew in the face, or hidden back under her covers. Now she thought about the Cyclopes in Detroit, Medea in Chicago, Midas turning her to gold in Omaha. Looking at Drew, who used to bother her, Piper laughed.

Drew’s smug expression crumbled. She backed up, then remembered she was supposed to be angry. “What are you—”

“Challenging you,” Piper said. “How about noon in the arena? You can choose the weapons.”

She got out of bed, stretched leisurely, and beamed at her cabinmates. She spotted Mitchell and Lacy, who’d helped her pack for the quest. They were smiling tentatively, their eyes flitting from Piper to Drew like this might be a very interesting tennis game.

“I missed you guys!” Piper announced. “We’re going to have a great time when I’m senior counselor.”

Drew turned bug juice red. Even her closest lieutenants looked a little nervous. This wasn’t in their script.

“You—” Drew spluttered. “You ugly little witch! I’ve been here the longest. You can’t just—”

“Challenge you?” Piper said. “Sure, I can. Camp rules: I’ve been claimed by Aphrodite. I’ve completed a quest, which is one more than you’ve completed. If I feel I can do a better job, I can challenge you. Unless you just want to step down. Did I get all that right, Mitchell?”

“Just right, Piper.” Mitchell was grinning. Lacy was bouncing up and down like she was trying to achieve liftoff.

A few of the other kids started to grin, as if they were enjoying the different colors Drew’s face was turning.

“Step down?” Drew shrieked. “You’re crazy!”

Piper shrugged. Then fast as a viper she pulled Katoptris from under her pillow, unsheathed the dagger, and thrust the point under Drew’s chin. Everybody else backed up fast. One guy crashed into a makeup table and sent up a plume of pink powder.

“A duel, then,” Piper said cheerfully. “If you don’t want to wait until noon, now is fine. You’ve turned this cabin into a dictatorship, Drew. Silena Beauregard knew better than that. Aphrodite is about love and beauty. Being loving. Spreadingbeauty. Good friends. Good times. Good deeds. Not just looking good. Silena made mistakes, but in the end she stood by her friends. That’s why she was a hero. I’m going to set things right, and I’ve got a feeling Mom will be on my side. Want to replace out?”

Drew went cross-eyed looking down the blade of Piper’s dagger.

A second passed. Then two. Piper didn’t care. She was absolutely happy and confident. It must’ve shown in her smile.

“I … step down,” Drew grumbled. “But if you think I’m ever going to forget this, McLean—”

“Oh, I hope you won’t,” Piper said. “Now, run along to the dining pavilion, and explain to Chiron why we’re late. There’s been a change of leadership.”

Drew backed to the door. Even her closest lieutenants didn’t follow her. She was about to leave when Piper said, “Oh, and Drew, honey?”

The former counselor looked back reluctantly.

“In case you think I’m not a true daughter of Aphrodite,” Piper said, “don’t even look at Jason Grace. He may not know it yet, but he’s mine. If you even try to make a move, I will load you into a catapult and shoot you across Long Island Sound.”

Drew turned around so fast, she ran into the doorframe. Then she was gone.

The cabin was silent. The other campers stared at Piper. This was the part she was unsure of. She didn’t want to rule by fear. She wasn’t like Drew, but she didn’t know if they’d accept her.

Then, spontaneously, the Aphrodite campers cheered so loudly, they must’ve been heard all across camp. They herded Piper out of the cabin, raised her on their shoulders, and carried her all the way to the dining pavilion—still in her pajamas, her hair still a mess, but she didn’t care. She’d never felt better.

By afternoon, Piper had changed into comfortable camp clothes and led the Aphrodite cabin through their morning activities. She was ready for free time.

Some of the buzz of her victory had faded because she had an appointment at the Big House.

Chiron met her on the front porch in human form, compacted into his wheelchair. “Come inside, my dear. The video conference is ready.”

The only computer at camp was in Chiron’s office, and the whole room was shielded in bronze plating.

“Demigods and technology don’t mix,” Chiron explained. “Phone calls, texting, even browsing the Internet—all these things can attract monsters. Why, just this fall at a school in Cincinnati, we had to rescue a young hero who Googled the gorgons and got a little more than he bargained for, but never mind that. Here at camp, you’re protected. Still … we try to be cautious. You’ll only be able to talk for a few minutes.”

“Got it,” Piper said. “Thank you, Chiron.”

He smiled and wheeled himself out of the office. Piper hesitated before clicking the call button. Chiron’s office had a cluttered, cozy feel. One wall was covered with T-shirts from different conventions—party ponies ’09 vegas, party ponies ’10 honolulu, et cetera. Piper didn’t know who the Party Ponies were, but judging from the stains, scorch marks, and weapon holes in the T-shirts, they must’ve had some pretty wild meetings. On the shelf over Chiron’s desk sat an old-fashioned boom box with cassette tapes labeled “Dean Martin” and “Frank Sinatra” and “Greatest Hits of the 40s.” Chiron was so old, Piper wondered if that meant 1940s, 1840s, or maybe just A.D. 40.

But most of the office’s wall space was plastered with photos of demigods, like a hall of fame. One of the newer shots showed a teenage guy with dark hair and green eyes. Since he stood arm in arm with Annabeth, Piper assumed the guy must be Percy Jackson. In some of the older photos, she recognized famous people: businessmen, athletes, even some actors that her dad knew.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered.

Piper wondered if her photo would go on that wall someday. For the first time, she felt like she was part of something bigger than herself. Demigods had been around for centuries. Whatever she did, she did for all of them.

She took a deep breath and made the call. The video screen popped up.

Gleeson Hedge grinned at her from her dad’s office. “Seen the news?”

“Kind of hard to miss,” Piper said. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Chiron had shown her a newspaper at lunch. Her dad’s mysterious return from nowhere had made the front page. His personal assistant Jane had been fired for covering up his disappearance and failing to notify the police. A new staff had been hired and personally vetted by Tristan McLean’s “life coach,” Gleeson Hedge. According to the paper, Mr. McLean claimed to have no memory of the last week, and the media was totally eating up the story. Some thought it was a clever marketing ploy for a movie—maybe McLean was going to play an amnesiac? Some thought he’d been kidnapped by terrorists, or rabid fans, or had heroically escaped from ransom seekers using his incredible King of Sparta fighting skills. Whatever the truth, Tristan McLean was more famous than ever.

“It’s going great,” Hedge promised. “But don’t worry. We’re going to keep him out of the public eye for the next month or so until things cool down. Your dad’s got more important things to do—like resting, and talking to his daughter.”

“Don’t get too comfortable out there in Hollywood, Gleeson,” Piper said.

Hedge snorted. “You kidding? These people make Aeolus look sane. I’ll be back as soon as I can, but your dad’s gotta get back on his feet first. He’s a good guy. Oh, and by the way, I took care of that other little matter. The Park Service in the Bay Area just got an anonymous gift of a new helicopter. And that ranger pilot who helped us? She’s got a very lucrative offer to fly for Mr. McLean.”

“Thanks, Gleeson,” Piper said. “For everything.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t try to be awesome. It just comes natural. Speaking of Aeolus’s place, meet your dad’s new assistant.”

Hedge was nudged out of the way, and a pretty young lady grinned into the camera.

“Mellie?” Piper stared, but it was definitely her: the aura who’d helped them escape from Aeolus’s fortress. “You’re working for my dad now?”

“Isn’t it great?”

“Does he know you’re a—you know—wind spirit?”

“Oh, no. But I love this job. It’s—um—a breeze.”

Piper couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m glad. That’s awesome. But where—”

“Just a sec.” Mellie kissed Gleeson on the cheek. “Come on, you old goat. Stop hogging the screen.”

“What?” Hedge demanded. But Mellie steered him away and called, “Mr. McLean? She’s on!”

A second later, Piper’s dad appeared.

He broke into a huge grin. “Pipes!”

He looked great—back to normal, with his sparkling brown eyes, his half-day beard, his confident smile, and his newly trimmed hair like he was ready to shoot a scene. Piper was relieved, but she also felt a little sad. Back to normal wasn’t necessarily what she’d wanted.

In her mind, she started the clock. On a normal call like this, on a workday, she hardly ever got her dad’s attention for longer than thirty seconds.

“Hey,” she said weakly. “You feeling okay?”

“Honey, I’m so sorry to worry you with this disappearance business. I don’t know …” His smile wavered, and she could tell he was trying to remember—grasping for a memory that should have been there, but wasn’t. “I’m not sure what happened, honestly. But I’m fine. Coach Hedge has been a godsend.”

“A godsend,” she repeated. Funny choice of words.

“He told me about your new school,” Dad said. “I’m sorry the Wilderness School didn’t work out, but you were right. Jane was wrong. I was a fool to listen to her.”

Ten seconds left, maybe. But at least her dad sounded sincere, like he really did feel remorseful.

“You don’t remember anything?” she said, a bit wistfully.

“Of course I do,” he said.

A chill went down her neck. “You do?”

“I remember that I love you,” he said. “And I’m proud of you. Are you happy at your new school?”

Piper blinked. She wasn’t going to cry now. After all she’d been through, that would be ridiculous. “Yeah, Dad. It’s more like a camp, not a school, but … Yeah, I think I’ll be happy here.”

“Call me as often as you can,” he said. “And come home for Christmas. And Pipes …”

“Yes?”

He touched the screen as if trying to reach through with his hand. “You’re a wonderful young lady. I don’t tell you that often enough. You remind me so much of your mother. She’d be proud. And Grandpa Tom”—he chuckled—“he always said you’d be the most powerful voice in our family. You’re going to outshine me some day, you know. They’re going to remember me as Piper McLean’s father, and that’s the best legacy I can imagine.”

Piper tried to answer, but she was afraid she’d break down. She just touched his fingers on the screen and nodded.

Mellie said something in the background, and her dad sighed. “Studio calling. I’m sorry, honey.” And he did sound genuinely annoyed to go.

“It’s okay, Dad,” she managed. “Love you.”

He winked. Then the video call went black.

Forty-five seconds? Maybe a full minute.

Piper smiled. A small improvement, but it was progress.

At the commons area, she found Jason relaxing on a bench, a basketball between his feet. He was sweaty from working out, but he looked great in his orange tank top and shorts. His various scars and bruises from the quest were healing, thanks to some medical attention from the Apollo cabin. His arms and legs were well muscled and tan—distracting as always. His close-cropped blond hair caught the afternoon light so it looked like it was turning to gold, Midas style.

“Hey,” he said. “How did it go?”

It took her a second to focus on his question. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. Fine.”

She sat next to him and they watched the campers going back and forth. A couple of Demeter girls were playing tricks on two of the Apollo guys—making grass grow around their ankles as they shot baskets. Over at the camp store, the Hermes kids were putting up a sign that read: flying shoes, slightly used, 50% off today! Ares kids were lining their cabin with fresh barbed wire. The Hypnos cabin was snoring away. A normal day at camp.

Meanwhile, the Aphrodite kids were watching Piper and Jason, and trying to pretend they weren’t. Piper was pretty sure she saw money change hands, like they were placing bets on a kiss.

“Get any sleep?” she asked him.

He looked at her as if she’d been reading his thoughts. “Not much. Dreams.”

“About your past?”

He nodded.

She didn’t push him. If he wanted to talk, that was fine, but she knew him better than to press the subject. She didn’t even worry that her knowledge of him was mostly based on three months of false memories. You can sense possibilities, her mother had said. And Piper was determined to make those possibilities a reality.

Jason spun his basketball. “It’s not good news,” he warned. “My memories aren’t good for—for any of us.”

Piper was pretty sure he’d been about to say for us—as in the two of them, and she wondered if he’d remembered a girl from his past. But she didn’t let it bother her. Not on a sunny winter day like this, with Jason next to her.

“We’ll figure it out,” she promised.

He looked at her hesitantly, like he wanted very much to believe her. “Annabeth and Rachel are coming in for the meeting tonight. I should probably wait until then to explain …”

“Okay.” She plucked a blade of grass by her foot. She knew there were dangerous things in store for both of them. She would have to compete with Jason’s past, and they might not even survive their war against the giants. But right now, they were both alive, and she was determined to enjoy this moment.

Jason studied her warily. His forearm tattoo was faint blue in the sunlight. “You’re in a good mood. How can you be so sure things will work out?”

“Because you’re going to lead us,” she said simply. “I’d follow you anywhere.”

Jason blinked. Then slowly, he smiled. “Dangerous thing to say.”

“I’m a dangerous girl.”

“That, I believe.”

He got up and brushed off his shorts. He offered her a hand. “Leo says he’s got something to show us out in the woods. You coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” She took his hand and stood up.

For a moment, they kept holding hands. Jason tilted his head. “We should get going.”

“Yep,” she said. “Just a sec.”

She let go of his hand, and took a card from her pocket—the silver calling card that Thalia had given her for the Hunters of Artemis. She dropped it into a nearby eternal fire and watched it burn. There would be no breaking hearts in Aphrodite cabin from now on. That was one rite of passage they didn’t need.

Across the green, her cabinmates looking disappointed that they hadn’t witnessed a kiss. They started cashing in their bets.

But that was all right. Piper was patient, and she could see lots of good possibilities.

“Let’s go,” she told Jason. “We’ve got adventures to plan.”