The Lost Hero (34 page)

P
IPER WOKE AT A TABLE AT A SIDEWALK CAFÉ.

For a second, she thought she was still dreaming. It was a sunny morning. The air was brisk but not unpleasant for sitting outside. At the other tables, a mix of bicyclists, business people, and college kids sat chatting and drinking coffee.

She could smell eucalyptus trees. Lots of foot traffic passed in front of quaint little shops. The street was lined with bottle-brush trees and blooming azaleas as if winter was a foreign concept.

In other words: she was in California.

Her friends sat in chairs around her—all of them with their hands calmly folded across their chests, dozing pleasantly. And they all had new clothes on. Piper looked down at her own outfit and gasped. “Mother!”

She yelled louder than she meant. Jason flinched, bumping the table with his knees, and then all of them were awake.

“What?” Hedge demanded. “Fight who? Where?”

“Falling!” Leo grabbed the table. “No—not falling. Where are we?”

Jason blinked, trying to get his bearings. He focused on Piper and made a little choking sound. “What are you wearing?”

Piper probably blushed. She was wearing the turquoise dress she’d seen in her dream, with black leggings and black leather boots. She had on her favorite silver charm bracelet, even though she’d left that back home in L.A., and her old snowboarding jacket from her dad, which amazingly went with the outfit pretty well. She pulled out Katoptris, and judging from the reflection in the blade, she’d gotten her hair done, too.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “It’s my—” She remembered Aphrodite’s warning not to mention that they’d talked. “It’s nothing.”

Leo grinned. “Aphrodite strikes again, huh? You’re gonna be the best-dressed warrior in town, beauty queen.”

“Hey, Leo.” Jason nudged his arm. “You look at yourself recently?”

“What … oh.”

All of them had been give a makeover. Leo was wearing pinstriped pants, black leather shoes, a white collarless shirt with suspenders, and his tool belt, Ray-Ban sunglasses, and a porkpie hat.

“God, Leo.” Piper tried not to laugh. “I think my dad wore that to his last premiere, minus the tool belt.”

“Hey, shut up!”

“I think he looks good,” said Coach Hedge. “’Course, I look better.”

The satyr was a pastel nightmare. Aphrodite had given him a baggy canary yellow zoot suit with two-tone shoes that fit over his hooves. He had a matching yellow broad-brimmed hat, a rose-colored shirt, a baby blue tie, and a blue carnation in his lapel, which Hedge sniffed and then ate.

“Well,” Jason said, “at least your mom overlooked me.”

Piper knew that wasn’t exactly true. Looking at him, her heart did a little tap dance. Jason was dressed simply in jeans and a clean purple T-shirt, like he’d worn at the Grand Canyon. He had new track shoes on, and his hair was newly trimmed. His eyes were the same color as the sky. Aphrodite’s message was clear:
This one needs no improvement.

And Piper agreed.

“Anyway,” she said uncomfortably, “how did we get here?”

“Oh, that would be Mellie,” Hedge said, chewing happily on his carnation. “Those winds shot us halfway across the country, I’d guess. We would’ve been smashed flat on impact, but Mellie’s last gift—a nice soft breeze—cushioned our fall.”

“And she got fired for us,” Leo said. “Man, we suck.”

“Ah, she’ll be fine,” Hedge said. “Besides, she couldn’t help herself. I’ve got that effect on nymphs. I’ll send her a message when we’re through with this quest and help her figure something out. That is one
aura
I could settle down with and raise a herd of baby goats.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Piper said. “Anyone else want coffee?”

“Coffee!” Hedge’s grin was stained blue from the flower. “I love coffee!”

“Um,” Jason said, “but—money? Our packs?”

Piper looked down. Their packs were at their feet, and everything seemed to still be there. She reached into her coat pocket and felt two things she hadn’t expected. One was a wad of cash. The other was a glass vial—the amnesia potion. She left the vial in her pocket and brought out the money.

Leo whistled. “Allowance? Piper, your mom rocks!”

“Waitress!” Hedge called. “Six double espressos, and whatever these guys want. Put it on the girl’s tab.”

It didn’t take them long to figure out where they were. The menus said “Café Verve, Walnut Creek, CA.” And according to the waitress, it was 9 a.m. on December 21, the winter solstice, which gave them three hours until Enceladus’s deadline.

They didn’t have to wonder where Mount Diablo was, either. They could see it on the horizon, right at the end of the street. After the Rockies, Mount Diablo didn’t look very large, nor was it covered in snow. It seemed downright peaceful, its golden creases marbled with gray-green trees. But size was deceptive with mountains, Piper knew. It was probably much bigger up close. And appearances were deceptive too. Here they were—back in California—supposedly her home—with sunny skies, mild weather, laid-back people, and a plate of chocolate chip scones with coffee. And only a few miles away, somewhere on that peaceful mountain, a superpowerful, super-evil giant was about to have her father for lunch.

Leo pulled something out of his pocket—the old crayon drawing Aeolus had given him. Aphrodite must’ve thought it was important if she’d magically transferred it to his new outfit.

“What is that?” Piper asked.

Leo folded it up gingerly again and put it away. “Nothing. You don’t want to see my kindergarten artwork.”

“It’s more than that,” Jason guessed. “Aeolus said it was the key to our success.”

Leo shook his head. “Not today. He was talking about… later.”

“How can you be sure?” Piper asked.

“Trust me,” Leo said. “Now—what’s our game plan?”

Coach Hedge belched. He’d already had three espressos and a plate of doughnuts, along with two napkins and another flower from the vase on the table. He would’ve eaten the silverware, except Piper had slapped his hand.

“Climb the mountain,” Hedge said. “Kill everything except Piper’s dad. Leave.”

“Thank you, General Eisenhower,” Jason grumbled.

“Hey, I’m just saying!”

“Guys,” Piper said. “There’s more you need to know.”

It was tricky, because she couldn’t mention her mom; but she told them she’d figured some things out in her dreams. She told them about their real enemy: Gaea.

“Gaea?” Leo shook his head. “Isn’t that Mother Nature? She’s supposed to have, like, flowers in her hair and birds singing around her and deer and rabbits doing her laundry.”

“Leo, that’s Snow White,” Piper said.

“Okay, but—”

“Listen, cupcake.” Coach Hedge dabbed the espresso out of his goatee. “Piper’s telling us some serious stuff, here. Gaea’s no softie. I’m not even sure
I
could take her.”

Leo whistled. “Really?”

Hedge nodded. “This earth lady—she and her old man the sky were nasty customers.”

“Ouranos,” Piper said. She couldn’t help looking up at the blue sky, wondering if it had eyes.

“Right,” Hedge said. “So Ouranos, he’s not the best dad. He throws their first kids, the Cyclopes, into Tartarus. That makes Gaea mad, but she bides her time. Then they have another set of kids—the twelve Titans—and Gaea is afraid they’ll get thrown into prison too. So she goes up to her son Kronos—”

“The big bad dude,” Leo said. “The one they defeated last summer.”

“Right. And Gaea’s the one who gives him the scythe, and tells him, ‘Hey, why don’t I call your dad down here? And while he’s talking to me, distracted, you can cut him to pieces. Then you can take over the world. Wouldn’t that be great?’”

Nobody said anything. Piper’s chocolate chip scone didn’t look so appetizing anymore. Even though she’d heard the story before, she still couldn’t quite get her mind around it. She tried to imagine a kid so messed up, he would kill his own dad just for power. Then she imagined a mom so messed up, she would convince her son to do it.

“Definitely not Snow White,” she decided.

“Nah, Kronos was a bad guy,” Hedge said. “But Gaea is literally the
mother
of all bad guys. She’s so old and powerful, so
huge
, that it’s hard for her to be fully conscious. Most of the time, she sleeps, and that’s the way we like her—snoring.”“But she talked to me,” Leo said. “How can she be asleep?”

Gleeson brushed crumbs off his canary yellow lapel. He was on his sixth espresso now, and his pupils were as big as quarters. “Even in her sleep, part of her consciousness is active—dreaming, keeping watch, doing little things like causing volcanoes to explode and monsters to rise. Even now, she’s not fully awake. Believe me, you don’t want to see her fully awake.”

“But she’s getting more powerful,” Piper said. “She’s causing the giants to rise. And if their king comes back—this guy Porphyrion—”

“He’ll raise an army to destroy the gods,” Jason put in. “Starting with Hera. It’ll be another war. And Gaea will wake up fully.”

Gleeson nodded. “Which is why it’s a good idea for us to stay off the ground as much as possible.”

Leo looked warily at Mount Diablo. “So … climbing a mountain. That would be bad.”

Piper’s heart sank. First, she’d been asked to betray her friends. Now they were trying to help her rescue her dad even though they knew they were walking into a trap. The idea of fighting a giant had been scary enough. But the idea that Gaea was behind it—a force more powerful than a god or Titan …

“Guys, I can’t ask you to do this,” Piper said. “This is too dangerous.”

“You kidding?” Gleeson belched and showed them his blue carnation smile. “Who’s ready to beat stuff up?”

L
EO HOPED THE TAXI COULD TAKE THEM
all the way to the top.

No such luck. The cab made lurching, grinding sounds as it climbed the mountain road, and halfway up they found the ranger’s station closed, a chain blocking the way.

“Far as I can go,” the cabbie said. “You sure about this? Gonna be a long walk back, and my car’s acting funny. I can’t wait for you.”

“We’re sure.” Leo was the first one out. He had a bad feeling about what was wrong with the cab, and when he looked down he saw he was right. The wheels were sinking into the road like it was made of quicksand. Not fast—just enough to make the driver think he had a transmission problem or a bad axle—but Leo knew different.

The road was hard-packed dirt. No reason at all it should have been soft, but already Leo’s shoes were starting to sink. Gaea was messing with them.

While his friends got out, Leo paid the cabbie. He was generous—heck, why not? It was Aphrodite’s money. Plus, he had a feeling he might never be coming off this mountain.

“Keep the change,” he said. “And get out of here. Quick.”

The driver didn’t argue. Soon all they could see was his dust trail.

The view from the mountain was pretty amazing. The whole inland valley around Mount Diablo was a patchwork of towns—grids of tree-lined streets and nice middle-class suburbs, shops, and schools. All these normal people living normal lives—the kind Leo had never known.

“That’s Concord,” Jason said, pointing to the north. “Walnut Creek below us. To the south, Danville, past those hills. And that way …”

He pointed west, where a ridge of golden hills held back a layer of fog, like the rim of a bowl. “That’s the Berkeley Hills. The East Bay. Past that, San Francisco.”

“Jason?” Piper touched his arm. “You remember something? You’ve been here?”

“Yes … no.” He gave her an anguished look. “It just seems important.”

“That’s Titan land.” Coach Hedge nodded toward the west. “Bad place, Jason. Trust me, this is as close to ’Frisco as we want to get.”

But Jason looked toward the foggy basin with such longing that Leo felt uneasy. Why did Jason seem so connected with that place—a place Hedge said was evil, full of bad magic and old enemies? What if Jason came from here? Everybody kept hinting Jason was an enemy, that his arrival at Camp Half-Blood was a dangerous mistake.

No, Leo thought. Ridiculous. Jason was their friend.

Leo tried to move his foot, but his heels were now completely embedded in the dirt.

“Hey, guys,” he said. “Let’s keep moving.”

The others noticed the problem.

“Gaea is stronger here,” Hedge grumbled. He popped his hooves free from his shoes, then handed the shoes to Leo. “Keep those for me, Valdez. They’re nice.”

Leo snorted. “Yes, sir, Coach. Would you like them polished?”

“That’s varsity thinking, Valdez.” Hedge nodded approvingly. “But first, we’d better hike up this mountain while we still can.”

“How do we know where the giant is?” Piper asked.

Jason pointed toward the peak. Drifting across the summit was a plume of smoke. From a distance, Leo had thought it was a cloud, but it wasn’t. Something was burning.

“Smoke equals fire,” Jason said. “We’d better hurry.”

The Wilderness School had taken Leo on several forced marches. He thought he was in good shape. But climbing a mountain when the earth was trying to swallow his feet was like jogging on a flypaper treadmill.

In no time, Leo had rolled up the sleeves on his collarless shirt, even though the wind was cold and sharp. He wished Aphrodite had given him walking shorts and some more comfortable shoes, but he was grateful for the Ray-Bans that kept the sun out of his eyes. He slipped his hands into his tool belt and started summoning supplies—gears, a tiny wrench, some strips of bronze. As he walked, he built—not really thinking about it, just fiddling with pieces.

By the time they neared the crest of the mountain, Leo was the most fashionably dressed sweaty, dirty hero ever. His hands were covered in machine grease.

The little object he’d made was like a windup toy—the kind that rattles and walks across a coffee table. He wasn’t sure what it could do, but he slipped it into his tool belt.

He missed his army coat with all its pockets. Even more than that, he missed Festus. He could use a fire-breathing bronze dragon right now. But Leo knew Festus would not be coming back—at least, not in his old form.

He patted the picture in his pocket—the crayon drawing he’d made at the picnic table under the pecan tree when he was five years old. He remembered Tía Callida singing as he worked, and how upset he’d been when the winds had snatched the picture away.
It isn’t time yet, little hero,
Tía Callida had told him.
Someday, yes. You’ll have your quest. You will find your destiny, and your hard journey will finally make sense.

Now Aeolus had returned the picture. Leo knew that meant his destiny was getting close; but the journey was as frustrating as this stupid mountain. Every time Leo thought they’d reached the summit, it turned out to be just another ridge with an even higher one behind it.

First things first, Leo told himself. Survive today. Figure out crayon drawing of destiny later.

Finally Jason crouched behind a wall of rock. He gestured for the others to do the same. Leo crawled up next to him. Piper had to pull Coach Hedge down.

“I don’t want to get my outfit dirty!” Hedge complained.

“Shhh!” Piper said.

Reluctantly, the satyr knelt.

Just over the ridge where they were hiding, in the shadow of the mountain’s final crest, was a forested depression about the size of a football field, where the giant Enceladus had set up camp.

Trees had been cut down to make a towering purple bonfire. The outer rim of the clearing was littered with extra logs and construction equipment—an earthmover; a big crane thing with rotating blades at the end like an electric shaver—must be a tree harvester, Leo thought—and a long metal column with an ax blade, like a sideways guillotine—a hydraulic ax.

Why a giant needed construction equipment, Leo wasn’t sure. He didn’t see how the creature in front of him could even fit in the driver’s seat. The giant Enceladus was so large, so horrible, Leo didn’t want to look at him.

But he forced himself to focus on the monster.

To start with, he was thirty feet tall—easily as tall as the treetops. Leo was sure the giant could’ve seen them behind their ridge, but he seemed intent on the weird purple bonfire, circling it and chanting under his breath. From the waist up, the giant appeared humanoid, his muscular chest clad in bronze armor, decorated with flame designs. His arms were completely ripped. Each of his biceps was bigger than Leo. His skin was bronze but sooty with ash. His face was crudely shaped, like a half-finished clay figure, but his eyes glowed white, and his hair was matted in shaggy dreadlocks down to his shoulders, braided with bones.

From the waist down, he was even more terrifying. His legs were scaly green, with claws instead of feet—like the forelegs of a dragon. In his hand, Enceladus held a spear the size of a flagpole. Every so often he dipped its tip in the fire, turning the metal molten red.

“Okay,” Coach Hedge whispered. “Here’s the plan—”

Leo elbowed him. “You’re not charging him alone!”

“Aw, c’mon.”

Piper choked back a sob. “Look.”

Just visible on the other side of the bonfire was a man tied to a post. His head slumped like he was unconscious, so Leo couldn’t make out his face, but Piper didn’t seem to have any doubts.

“Dad,” she said.

Leo swallowed. He wished this were a Tristan McLean movie. Then Piper’s dad would be faking unconsciousness. He’d untie his bonds and knock out the giant with some cleverly hidden anti-giant gas. Heroic music would start to play, and Tristan McLean would make his amazing escape, running away in slow motion while the mountainside exploded behind him.

But this wasn’t a movie. Tristan McLean was half dead and about to be eaten. The only people who could stop it—three fashionably dressed teenaged demigods and a megalomaniac goat.

“There’s four of us,” Hedge whispered urgently. “And only one of him.”

“Did you miss the fact that he’s thirty feet tall?” Leo asked.

“Okay,” Hedge said. “So you, me, and Jason distract him. Piper sneaks around and frees her dad.”

They all looked at Jason.

“What?” Jason asked. “I’m not the leader.”

“Yes,” Piper said. “You are.”

They’d never really talked about it, but no one disagreed, not even Hedge. Coming this far had been a team effort, but when it came to a life-and-death decision, Leo knew Jason was the one to ask. Even if he had no memory, Jason had a kind of balance to him. You could just tell he’d been in battles before, and he knew how to keep his cool. Leo wasn’t exactly the trusting type, but he trusted Jason with his life.

“I hate to say it,” Jason sighed, “but Coach Hedge is right. A distraction is Piper’s best chance.”

Not a good chance, Leo thought. Not even a survivable chance. Just their
best
chance.

They couldn’t sit there all day and talk about it, though. It had to be close to noon—the giant’s deadline—and the ground was still trying to pull them down. Leo’s knees had already sunk two inches into the dirt.

Leo looked at the construction equipment and got a crazy idea. He brought out the little toy he’d made on the climb, and he realized what it could do—
if
he was lucky, which he almost never was.

“Let’s boogie,” he said. “Before I come to my senses.”