The Lost Hero (10 page)

Piper had a moment of dread, thinking she meant the dream about the giant. Then she realized Rachel was talking about what happened in Hera’s cabin.

“Something’s wrong with the goddess,” Piper said. “She told me to free her, like she’s trapped. She mentioned the earth swallowing us, and a fiery one, and something about the solstice.”

In the corner, Argus made a rumbling sound in his chest. His eyes all fluttered at once.

“Hera created Argus,” Rachel explained. “He’s actually very sensitive when it comes to her safety. We’re trying to keep him from crying, because last time that happened …well, it caused quite a flood.”

Argus sniffled. He grabbed a fistful of Kleenex from the bedside table and started dabbing eyes all over his body.

“So …” Piper tried not to stare as Argus wiped the tears from his elbows. “What’s happened to Hera?”

“We’re not sure,” Rachel said. “Annabeth and Jason were here for you, by the way. Jason didn’t want to leave you, but Annabeth had an idea—something that might restore his memories.”

“That’s … that’s great.”

Jason had been here for her? She wished she’d been conscious for that. But if he got his memories back, would that be a good thing? She was still holding out hope that they really did know each other. She didn’t want their relationship to be just a trick of the Mist.

Get over yourself, she thought. If she was going to save her dad, it didn’t matter whether Jason liked her or not. He would hate her eventually. Everyone here would.

She looked down at the ceremonial dagger strapped to her side. Annabeth had said it was a sign of power and status, but not normally used in battle. All show and no substance. A fake, just like Piper. And its name was Katoptris, looking glass. She didn’t dare unsheathe it again, because she couldn’t bear to see her own reflection.

“Don’t worry.” Rachel squeezed her arm. “Jason seems like a good guy. He had a vision too, a lot like yours. Whatever’s happening with Hera—I think you two are meant to work together.”

Rachel smiled like this was good news, but Piper’s spirits plunged even further. She’d thought that this quest—whatever it was—would involve nameless people. Now Rachel was basically telling her:
Good news! Not only is your dad being held ransom by a cannibal giant, you also get to betray the guy you like! How awesome is that?

“Hey,” Rachel said. “No need to cry. You’ll figure it out.”

Piper wiped her eyes, trying to get control of herself. This wasn’t like her. She was supposed to be tough—a hardened car thief, the scourge of L.A. private schools. Here she was, crying like a baby. “How can you know what I’m facing?”

Rachel shrugged. “I know it’s a hard choice, and your options aren’t great. Like I said, I get hunches sometimes.

But you’re going to be claimed at the campfire. I’m almost sure. When you know who your godly parent is, things might be clearer.”

Clearer, Piper thought. Not necessarily better.

She sat up in bed. Her forehead ached like someone had driven a spike between her eyes.
There’s no getting your mother back,
her dad had told her. But apparently, tonight, her mom might claim her. For the first time, Piper wasn’t sure she wanted that.

“I hope it’s Athena.” She looked up, afraid Rachel might make fun of her, but the oracle just smiled.

“Piper, I don’t blame you. Truthfully? I think Annabeth is hoping that too. You guys are a lot alike.”

The comparison made Piper feel even guiltier. “Another hunch? You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re an oracle, aren’t you? You’re supposed to sound all mysterious.”

Rachel laughed. “Don’t be giving away my secrets, Piper. And don’t worry. Things will work out—just maybe not the way you plan.”

“That’s not making me feel better.”

Somewhere in the distance, a conch horn blew. Argus grumbled and opened the door.

“Dinner?” Piper guessed.

“You slept through it,” Rachel said. “Time for the campfire. Let’s go find out who you are.”

T
HE WHOLE CAMPFIRE IDEA FREAKED
P
IPER OUT.
It made her think of that huge purple bonfire in the dreams, and her father tied to a stake.

What she got instead was almost as terrifying: a sing-along. The amphitheater steps were carved into the side of a hill, facing a stone-lined fire pit. Fifty or sixty kids filled the rows, clustered into groups under various banners.

Piper spotted Jason in the front next to Annabeth. Leo was nearby, sitting with a bunch of burly-looking campers under a steel gray banner emblazoned with a hammer. Standing in front of the fire, half a dozen campers with guitars and strange, old-fashioned harps—lyres?—were jumping around, leading a song about pieces of armor, something about how their grandma got dressed for war. Everybody was singing with them and making gestures for the pieces of armor and joking around. It was quite possibly the weirdest thing Piper had ever seen—one of those campfire songs that would’ve been completely embarrassing in daylight; but in the dark, with everybody participating, it was kind of corny and fun. As the energy level got higher, the flames did too, turning from red to orange to gold.

Finally the song ended with a lot of rowdy applause. A guy on a horse trotted up. At least in the flickering light, Piper
thought
it was a guy on a horse. Then she realized it was a centaur—his bottom half a white stallion, his top half a middle-aged guy with curly hair and a trimmed beard. He brandished a spear impaled with toasted marshmallows. “Very nice! And a special welcome to our new arrivals. I am Chiron, camp activities director, and I’m happy you have all arrived here alive and with most of your limbs attached. In a moment, I promise we’ll get to the s’mores, but first—”

“What about capture the flag?” somebody yelled. Grumbling broke out among some kids in armor, sitting under a red banner with the emblem of a boar’s head.

“Yes,” the centaur said. “I know the Ares cabin is anxious to return to the woods for our regular games.”

“And kill people!” one of them shouted.

“However,” Chiron said, “until the dragon is brought under control, that won’t be possible. Cabin Nine, anything to report on that?”

He turned to Leo’s group. Leo winked at Piper and shot her with a finger gun. The girl next to him stood uncomfortably. She wore an army jacket a lot like Leo’s, with her hair covered in a red bandanna. “We’re working on it.”

More grumbling.

“How, Nyssa?” an Ares kid demanded.

“Really hard,” the girl said.

Nyssa sat down to a lot of yelling and complaining, which caused the fire to sputter chaotically. Chiron stamped his hoof against the fire pit stones—
bang, bang, bang
—and the campers fell silent.

“We will have to be patient,” Chiron said. “In the meantime, we have more pressing matters to discuss.”

“Percy?” someone asked. The fire dimmed even further, but Piper didn’t need the mood flames to sense the crowd’s anxiety.

Chiron gestured to Annabeth. She took a deep breath and stood.

“I didn’t find Percy,” she announced. Her voice caught a little when she said his name. “He wasn’t at the Grand Canyon like I thought. But we’re not giving up. We’ve got teams everywhere. Grover, Tyson, Nico, the Hunters of Artemis —everyone’s out looking. We
will
find him. Chiron’s talking about something different. A new quest.”

“It’s the Great Prophecy, isn’t it?” a girl called out.

Everyone turned. The voice had come from a group in back, sitting under a rose-colored banner with a dove emblem. They’d been chatting among themselves and not paying much attention until their leader stood up: Drew.

Everyone else looked surprised. Apparently Drew didn’t address the crowd very often.

“Drew?” Annabeth said. “What do you mean?”

“Well,
come on
.” Drew spread her hands like the truth was obvious. “Olympus is closed. Percy’s disappeared. Hera sends you a vision and you come back with three new demigods in one day. I mean, something weird is going on. The Great Prophecy has started, right?”

Piper whispered to Rachel, “What’s she talking about—the Great Prophecy?”

Then she realized everyone else was looking at Rachel, too.

“Well?” Drew called down. “You’re the oracle. Has it started or not?”

Rachel’s eyes looked scary in the firelight. Piper was afraid she might clench up and start channeling a freaky peacock goddess again, but she stepped forward calmly and addressed the camp.

“Yes,” she said. “The Great Prophecy has begun.”

Pandemonium broke out.

Piper caught Jason’s eye. He mouthed,
You all right?
She nodded and managed a smile, but then looked away. It was too painful seeing him and not being with him.

When the talking finally subsided, Rachel took another step toward the audience, and fifty-plus demigods leaned away from her, as if one skinny redheaded mortal was more intimidating than all of them put together.

“For those of you who have not heard it,” Rachel said, “the Great Prophecy was my first prediction. It arrived in August. It goes like this:

“Seven half-bloods shall answer the call. To storm or fire the world must fall—”

Jason shot to his feet. His eyes looked wild, like he’d just been tasered.

Even Rachel seemed caught off guard. “J-Jason?” she said. “What’s—”

“Ut cum spiritu postrema sacramentum dejuremus,”
he chanted.
“Et hostes ornamenta addent ad ianuam necem.”

An uneasy silence settled on the group. Piper could see from their faces that several of them were trying to translate the lines. She could tell it was Latin, but she wasn’t sure why her hopefully future boyfriend was suddenly chanting like a Catholic priest.

“You just … finished the prophecy,” Rachel stammered. “—
An oath to keep with a final breath/And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death.
How did you—”

“I know those lines.” Jason winced and put his hands to his temples. “I don’t know how, but I
know
that prophecy.”

“In Latin, no less,” Drew called out. “Handsome
and
smart.”

There was some giggling from the Aphrodite cabin. God, what a bunch of losers, Piper thought. But it didn’t do much to break the tension. The campfire was burning a chaotic, nervous shade of green.

Jason sat down, looking embarrassed, but Annabeth put a hand on his shoulder and muttered something reassuring. Piper felt a pang of jealousy. It should have been
her
next to him, comforting him.

Rachel Dare still looked a little shaken. She glanced back at Chiron for guidance, but the centaur stood grim and silent, as if he were watching a play he couldn’t interrupt—a tragedy that ended with a lot of people dead onstage.

“Well,” Rachel said, trying to regain her composure. “So, yeah, that’s the Great Prophecy. We hoped it might not happen for years, but I fear it’s starting now. I can’t give you proof. It’s just a feeling. And like Drew said, some weird stuff is happening. The seven demigods, whoever they are, have not been gathered yet. I get the feeling some are here tonight. Some are not here.”

The campers began to stir and mutter, looking at each other nervously, until a drowsy voice in the crowd called out, “I’m here! Oh … were you calling roll?”

“Go back to sleep, Clovis,” someone yelled, and a lot of people laughed.

“Anyway,” Rachel continued, “we don’t know what the Great Prophecy means. We don’t know what challenge the demigods will face, but since the
first
Great Prophecy predicted the Titan War, we can guess the
second
Great Prophecy will predict something at least that bad.”

“Or worse,” Chiron murmured.

Maybe he didn’t mean everyone to overhear, but they did. The campfire immediately turned dark purple, the same color as Piper’s dream.

“What we
do
know,” Rachel said, “is that the first phase has begun. A major problem has arisen, and we need a quest to solve it. Hera, the queen of the gods, has been taken.”

Shocked silence. Then fifty demigods started talking at once.

Chiron pounded his hoof again, but Rachel still had to wait before she could get back their attention.

She told them about the incident on the Grand Canyon skywalk—how Gleeson Hedge had sacrificed himself when the storm spirits attacked, and the spirits had warned it was only the beginning. They apparently served some great mistress who would destroy all demigods.

Then Rachel told them about Piper passing out in Hera’s cabin. Piper tried to keep a calm expression, even when she noticed Drew in the back row, pantomiming a faint, and her friends giggling. Finally Rachel told them about Jason’s vision in the living room of the Big House. The message Hera had delivered there was so similar that Piper got a chill. The only difference: Hera had warned Piper not to betray her:
Bow to his will, and their king shall rise, dooming us all.
Hera
knew
about the giant’s threat. But if that was true, why hadn’t she warned Jason, and exposed Piper as an enemy agent?

“Jason,” Rachel said. “Um … do you remember your last name?”

He looked self-conscious, but he shook his head.

“We’ll just call you Jason, then,” Rachel said. “It’s clear Hera herself has issued you a quest.”

Rachel paused, as if giving Jason a chance to protest his destiny. Everyone’s eyes were on him; there was so much pressure, Piper thought she would’ve buckled in his position. Yet he looked brave and determined. He set his jaw and nodded. “I agree.”

“You must save Hera to prevent a great evil,” Rachel continued. “Some sort of king from rising. For reasons we don’t yet understand, it must happen by the winter solstice, only four days from now.”

“That’s the council day of the gods,” Annabeth said. “If the gods don’t
already
know Hera’s gone, they will definitely notice her absence by then. They’ll probably break out fighting, accusing each other of taking her. That’s what they usually do.”

“The winter solstice,” Chiron spoke up, “is also the time of greatest darkness. The gods gather that day, as mortals always have, because there is strength in numbers. The solstice is a day when evil magic is strong.
Ancient
magic, older than the gods. It is a day when things … stir.”

The way he said it, stirring sounded absolutely sinister—like it should be a first-degree felony, not something you did to cookie dough.

“Okay,” Annabeth said, glaring at the centaur. “Thank you, Captain Sunshine. Whatever’s going on, I agree with Rachel. Jason has been chosen to lead this quest, so—”

“Why hasn’t he been claimed?” somebody yelled from the Ares cabin. “If he’s so important—”

“He has been claimed,” Chiron announced. “Long ago. Jason, give them a demonstration.”

At first, Jason didn’t seem to understand. He stepped forward nervously, but Piper couldn’t help thinking how amazing he looked with his blond hair glowing in the firelight, his regal features like a Roman statue’s. He glanced at Piper, and she nodded encouragingly. She mimicked flipping a coin.

Jason reached into his pocket. His coin flashed in the air, and when he caught it in his hand, he was holding a lance—a rod of gold about seven feet long, with a spear tip at one end.

The other demigods gasped. Rachel and Annabeth stepped back to avoid the point, which looked sharp as an ice pick.

“Wasn’t that …” Annabeth hesitated. “I thought you had a sword.”

“Um, it came up tails, I think,” Jason said. “Same coin, long-range weapon form.”

“Dude, I want one!” yelled somebody from Ares cabin.

“Better than Clarisse’s electric spear, Lamer!” one of his brothers agreed.

“Electric,” Jason murmured, like that was a good idea. “Back away.”

Annabeth and Rachel got the message. Jason raised his javelin, and thunder broke open the sky. Every hair on Piper’s arms stood straight up. Lightning arced down through the golden spear point and hit the campfire with the force of an artillery shell.

When the smoke cleared, and the ringing in Piper’s ears subsided, the entire camp sat frozen in shock, half blind, covered in ashes, staring at the place where the fire had been. Cinders rained down everywhere. A burning log had impaled itself a few inches from the sleeping kid Clovis, who hadn’t even stirred.

Jason lowered his lance. “Um … sorry.”

Chiron brushed some burning coals out of his beard. He grimaced as if his worst fears had been confirmed. “A little overkill, perhaps, but you’ve made your point. And I believe we know who your father is.”

“Jupiter,” Jason said. “I mean Zeus. Lord of the Sky.”

Piper couldn’t help smiling. It made perfect sense. The most powerful god, the father of all the greatest heroes in the ancient myths—no one else could possibly be Jason’s dad.

Apparently, the rest of the camp wasn’t so sure. Everything broke into chaos, with dozens of people asking questions until Annabeth raised her arms.

“Hold it!” she said. “How can he be the son of Zeus? The Big Three … their pact not to have mortal kids … how could we not have known about him sooner?”

Chiron didn’t answer, but Piper got the feeling he knew. And the truth was not good.