The Lost Hero

Chapter 2

"Leo!" I yelled. Ohh! THIS MONSTER HAS A DEATH WISH!!

"Help!" he yelled up at them. "Rope, please? Bungee cord? Something?"

Coach Hedge cursed and tossed Jason his club. "I don't know who you are, kid, but I hope you're good. Keep that thing busy"—he stabbed a thumb at Dylan—"while I get Leo. Aqua Cupcake, you help him!"

"Get him how?" Jason demanded. "Are you going to fly?"

"Not fly. Climb." Hedge kicked off his shoes, and Jason almost had a coronary. The coach didn't have any feet. He had hooves—goat's hooves. Which meant those things on his head, Jason realized, weren't bumps. They were horns.

"You're a faun," Jason said.

"Satyr!" Hedge snapped.

"Fauns are Roman. But we'll talk about that later." I said, clasping my hand on the crystal on my necklace. The crystal started glowing and a silver bow and arrow appeared in my hands and a quiver of arrows on my back.

Ahh, how I missed kicking butt!

Hedge leaped over the railing. He sailed toward the canyon wall and hit hooves first. He bounded down the cliff with impossible agility, finding footholds no bigger than postage stamps, dodging whirlwinds that tried to attack him as he picked his way toward Leo.

"Isn't that cute!" Dylan turned toward us. "Now it's your turn, boy and girl."

Jason threw the club. It seemed useless with the winds so strong, but the club flew right at Dylan, even curving when he tried to dodge, and smacked him on the head so hard he fell to his knees.

"Nice shot!" I told Jason.

"Thanks!"

I took a celestial bronze arrow and shot it at him, causing damage.

Piper wasn't as dazed as she appeared. Her fingers closed around the club when it rolled next to her, but before she could use it, Dylan rose. Blood—golden blood—trickled from his forehead.

"Nice try, girl, boy." He glared at me and Jason. "But you'll have to do better."

The skywalk shuddered. Hairline fractures appeared in the glass. Inside the museum, kids stopped banging on the doors. They backed away, watching in terror.

Dylan's body dissolved into smoke, as if his molecules were coming unglued. He had the same face, the same brilliant white smile, but his whole form was suddenly composed of swirling black vapor, his eyes like electrical sparks in a living storm cloud. He sprouted black smoky wings and rose above the skywalk. If angels could be evil then this would be it. Storm Spirit, I thought.

"You're a ventus," Jason said, though he had no idea how he knew that word. "A storm spirit."

"Don't you mean Anemoi Thuellai? That's the greek term," I said, having zero clue on how Jason knew this.

Dylan's laugh sounded like a tornado tearing off a roof. "I'm glad I waited, demigod. Leo, Vivian and Piper I've known about for weeks. Could've killed them at any time. But my mistress said a fourth was coming—someone special. She'll reward me greatly for your death!"

Three more funnel clouds touched down on either side of Dylan and turned into Anemoi Thuellai—ghostly young men with smoky wings and eyes that flickered with lightning.

Piper stayed down, pretending to be dazed, her hand still gripping the club. Her face was pale, but she gave us a determined look, and we understood the message: Keep their attention. I'll brain them from behind.

Dylan raised his hand, arcs of electricity running between his fingers, and blasted Jason and I in the chest.

Bang! We found ourselves flat on our back. My mouth tasted like burning aluminum foil. Jason lifted his head and saw that his clothes were smoking. The lightning bolt had gone straight though his body and blasted off his left shoe. His toes were black with soot. Thankfully my clothes were still clean and undamaged.