Jason was having a talk with Chiron when footsteps reverberated on the porch outside of the big house. The front door blew open, and Annabeth and another girl, a redhead, burst in, dragging Piper between them, with Estella rushing in behind them. Piper's head lolled like she was unconscious.
"What happened?" Jason rushed over. "What's wrong with her?"
"Hera's cabin," Annabeth gasped, like they'd run all the way. "Vision. Bad. "
The redheaded girl looked up, and Jason saw that she had been crying.
"I think ..." The redheaded girl gulped. "I think I may have killed her. "
•••
Jason and the redhead who introduced herself as Rachel, put Piper on the couch while Annabeth rushed down the hall to get a med kit. Estella leaned over Piper. Piper was still breathing, but she wouldn't wake up. She seemed to be in some kind of coma.
"We've got to heal her," Jason insisted. "There's a way, right?"
Seeing her sopale, barely breathing, Jason felt a surge of protectiveness. Maybe he didn't really know her. Maybe she wasn't actually one of his best friends. But they'd survived the Grand Canyon together. They'd come all this way.
Chiron put his hand on her forehead and grimaced. "Her mind is in a fragile state. Rachel, what happened?"
"I wish I knew," she said. "As soon as I got to camp, I had a premonition about Hera's cabin. I went inside. Annabeth and Piper and Estella came in while I was there. We talked, and then—I just blanked out. Annabeth said I spoke in a different voice. "
"A prophecy?" Chiron asked.
"No. The spirit of Delphi comes from within. I know how that feels. This was like long distance, a power trying to speak through me. "
"Is she going to be okay?" Estella asked.
Before anyone could answer, Annabeth ran in with a leather pouch. She knelt next to Piper. "Chiron, what happened back there—I've never seen anything like it. I've heard Rachel's prophecy voice. This was different. She sounded like an older woman. She grabbed Piper's shoulders and told her—"
"To free her from a prison?" Jason guessed.
Annabeth stared at him. "How did you know that?"
Chiron made a three-fingered gesture over his heart, like a ward against evil.
"Jason, tell them. Annabeth, the medicine bag, please. "
Chiron trickled drops from a medicine vial into Piper's mouth while Jason explained what had happened when the room froze—the dark misty woman who had claimed to be Jason's patron.
When he was done, no one spoke, which made him more nervous and anxious.
"So does this happen often?" he asked. "Supernatural phone calls from convicts demanding you bust them out of jail?"
"Your patron," Annabeth said. "Not your godly parent?"
"No, she said patron. She also said my dad had given her my life. "
Annabeth frowned. "I've never of heard anything like that before. You said the storm spirit on the skywalk—he claimed to be working for some mistress who was giving him orders, right? Could it be this woman you saw, messing with your mind?"
"I don't think so," Jason said. "If she were my enemy, why would she be asking for my help? She's imprisoned. She's worried about some enemy getting more powerful. Something about a king rising from the earth on the solstice—"
Annabeth turned to Chiron. "Not Kronos. Please tell me it's not that. "
The centaur looked miserable. He checked Piper's wrist.
At last he said, "It is not Kronos. That threat is ended. But ..."
"But what?" Annabeth asked.
Chiron closed the medicine bag. "Piper needs rest. We should discuss this later. "
"Or now," Jason said. "Sir, Mr. Chiron, you told me the greatest threat was coming. The last chapter. You can't possibly mean something worse than an army of Titans, right?"
"Oh," Rachel said in a small voice. "Oh, dear. The woman was Hera. Of course. Her cabin, her voice. She showed herself to Jason at the same moment. "
"Hera?" Annabeth's snarl was even fiercer than Seymour's. "She took you over? She did this to Piper?"
"What?" Estella could barely keep up with their conversation.
"I think Rachel's right," Jason said. "The woman did seem like a goddess. And she wore this—this goatskin cloak. That's a symbol of Juno, isn't it?"
"It is?" Annabeth scowled. "I've never heard that. "
Chiron nodded reluctantly. "Of Juno, Hera's Roman aspect, in her most warlike state. The goatskin cloak was a symbol of the Roman soldier. "
"So Hera is imprisoned?" Rachel asked. "Who could do that to the queen of the gods?"
Annabeth crossed her arms. "Well, whoever they are, maybe we should thank them. If they can shut up Hera—"
"Annabeth," Chiron warned, "she is still one of the Olympians. In many ways, she is the glue that holds the gods' family together. If she truly has been imprisoned and is in danger of destruction, this could shake the foundations of the world. It could unravel the stability of Olympus, which is never great even in the best of times. And if Hera has asked Jason for help—"
"Fine," Annabeth grumbled. "Well, we know Titans can capture a god, right? Atlas captured Artemis a few years ago. And in the old stories, the gods captured each other in traps all the time. But something worse than a Titan ... ?"
Jason looked at the leopard's head. Seymour was smacking his lips like the goddess had tasted much better than a Snausage. "Hera said she'd been trying to break through her prison bonds for a month. "
"Which is how long Olympus has been closed," Annabeth said. "So the gods must know something bad is going on. "
"But why use her energy to send me here?" Jason asked. "She wiped my memory, plopped me into the Wilderness School field trip, and sent you a dream vision to come pick me up. Why am I so important? Why not just send up an emergency flare to the other gods—let them know where she is so they bust her out?"
"The gods need heroes to do their will down here on earth," Rachel said. "That's right, isn't it? Their fates are always intertwined with demigods. "
"That's true," Annabeth said, "but Jason's got a point. Why him? Why take his memory?"
"And Piper's involved somehow," Rachel said. "Hera sent her the same message—Free me. And, Annabeth, this must have something to do with Percy's disappearing. "
Annabeth fixed her eyes on Chiron. "Why are you so quiet, Chiron? What is it we're facing?"
The old centaur's face looked like it had aged ten years in a matter of minutes. The lines around his eyes were deeply etched. "My dear, in this, I cannot help you. I am so sorry. "
Annabeth blinked. "You've never ... you've never kept information from me. Even the last great prophecy—"
"I will be in my office. " His voice was heavy. "I need some time to think before dinner. Rachel, will you watch the girl? Call Argus to bring her to the infirmary, if you'd like. And Annabeth, you should speak with Jason. Tell him about—about the Greek and Roman gods."
"But ..."
The centaur turned his wheelchair and rolled off down the hallway. Annabeth's eyes turned stormy. She muttered something in Greek, and Jason got the feeling it wasn't complimentary toward centaurs.
"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I think my being here—I don't know. I've messed things up coming to the camp, somehow. Chiron said he'd sworn an oath and couldn't talk about it. "
"What oath?" Annabeth demanded. "I've never seen him act this way. And why would he tell me to talk to you about the gods. . . "
Her voice trailed off. She had just noticed Jason's sword sitting on the coffee table. She touched the blade gingerly, like it might be hot.
"Is this gold?" she said. "Do you remember where you got it?"
"No," Jason said. "Like I said, I don't remember anything. "
Annabeth nodded, like she'd just come up with a rather desperate plan. "If Chiron won't help, we'll need to figure things out ourselves. Which means ... Cabin Fifteen. Rachel, you'll keep an eye on Piper?"
"Sure," Rachel promised. "Good luck, you two."
"Hold on," Jason said. "What's in Cabin Fifteen?"
Annabeth stood. "Maybe a way to get your memory back. "
Jason glanced at Estella, who was staying silent. She put her hands together and gave him a slight nod.
Jason sighed and followed Annabeth out of the big house.
•••
Piper had a dream about her last day with her dad.
They were on the beach near Big Sur, after a few hours of surfing. The morning had been so fun and just so perfect, but Piper had the feeling that something would go wrong—like it always does.
But so far, the father and daughter surfed the morning away, having excellent waves and perfect weather. Piper's dad had found this out-of-the-way spot, rented a beachfront villa and the properties on either side, and somehow managed to keep it secret from his fans and the paparazzi. If he stayed there too long, Piper knew the photographers would find him, which always seemed to happen.
"Nice job out there, Pipes. " He gave her the smile he was famous for: perfect teeth, dimpled chin, a twinkle in his dark eyes that always made grown women scream and ask him to sign their bodies in permanent marker. His close-cropped black hair gleamed with salt water. "You're getting better at hanging ten. "
Piper flushed with pride, though she suspected her dad was just being nice. She still spent most of her time wiping out. It took special talent to run over yourself with a surfboard. Her dad was the natural surfer—which made no sense since he'd been raised a poor kid in Oklahoma, hundreds of miles from the ocean—but he was amazing on the curls. Piper would've given up surfing a long time ago except it let her spend time with him. There weren't many ways she could do that.
"Sandwich?" Dad dug into the picnic basket his chef, Arno, had made. "Let's see: turkey pesto, crabcake wasabi—ah, a Piper special. Peanut butter and jelly."
She took the sandwich, though her stomach felt queasy from nerves and worry. Seeing as she was a vegetarian, Piper always asked for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She hadn't eaten meat ever since they'd driven past that slaughterhouse in Chino and the smell had made her insides want to come outside. But it was more than that. Peanut butter and jelly was simple food, like a regular kid would have for lunch. Sometimes she pretended her dad had actually made it for her, not a personal chef from France who liked to wrap the sandwich in gold leaf paper with a light-up sparkler instead of a toothpick.
Piper wished that her life could be more simple.
That's why she turned down the fancy clothes her dad always offered, the designer shoes, the trips to the salon. She cut her own hair with a pair of plastic Garfield safety scissors, deliberately making it uneven. She preferred to wear beat-up running shoes, jeans, a T-shirt, and her old Polartec jacket from the time they went snowboarding.
And she hated the snobby private schools Dad thought were good for her. She kept getting herself kicked out purposely, but he kept finding more schools for her.
Yesterday, she'd pulled her biggest heist yet—driving that "borrowed" BMW out of the dealership. She had to pull a bigger stunt each time, because it took more and more to get Dad's attention.
But she regretted it now. Her dad doesn't even know about it yet.
Piper had meant to tell him that morning. Then he'd surprised her with this trip, and she couldn't ruin it. It was the first time they'd had a day together in three months.
"What's wrong?" her dad asked as he passed her a soda.
"Dad, there's something—" Piper started to say.
"Hold on, Pipes. That's a serious face. Ready for Any Three Questions?"
They'd been playing that game for years. It was her dad's way of staying connected in the shortest possible amount of time. They could ask each other any three questions. Nothing off-limits, and you had to answer honestly. The rest of the time, Dad promised to stay out of her business—which was easy, since he was never around.
Piper knew most kids would find a Q&A like this with their parents completely embarrassing. But she looked forward to it. It was like surfing—not easy, but a way to feel like she actually had a father.
"First question," she said. "Mom. "
No surprise. That was always one of her topics.
Her dad shrugged with resignation. "What do you want to know, Piper? I've already told you—she disappeared. I don't know why, or where she went. After you were born, she simply left. I never heard from her again. "
"Do you think she's still alive?"
It wasn't a real question. Dad was allowed to say he didn't know. But she wanted to hear how he'd answer.
He stared at the waves.
"Your Grandpa Tom," he said at last, "he used to tell me that if you walked far enough toward the sunset, you'd come to Ghost Country, where you could talk to the dead. He said a long time ago, you could bring the dead back; but then mankind messed up. Well, it's a long story. "
"Like the Land of the Dead for the Greeks," Piper remembered. "It was in the west, too. And Orpheus—he tried to bring his wife back. "
Dad nodded. A year before, he'd had his biggest role as an Ancient Greek king. Piper had helped him research the myths—all those old stories about people getting turned to stone and boiled in lakes of lava. They'd had a fun time reading together, and it made Piper's life seem not so bad. For a while she'd felt closer to her dad, but like everything, it didn't last.
"Lot of similarities between Greek and Cherokee," Dad agreed. "Wonder what your grandpa would think if he saw us now, sitting at the end of the western land. He'd probably think we're ghosts. "
"So you're saying you believe those stories? You think Mom is dead?"
His eyes watered. Piper saw the sadness behind them. She figured that that was a reason women were so attracted to him. On the surface, he seemed confident and rugged, but his eyes held so much inner sadness. Women wanted to find out why. They wanted to comfort him, and they never could. Dad told Piper it was a Cherokee thing—they all had that darkness inside them from generations of pain and suffering. But Piper thought it was more than that.
"I don't believe the stories," he said. "They're fun to tell, but if I really believed in Ghost Country, or animal spirits, or Greek gods ... I don't think I could sleep at night. I'd always be looking for somebody to blame. "
Somebody to blame for Grandpa Tom dying of lung cancer, Piper thought, before Dad got famous and had the money to help. For Mom—the only woman he'd ever loved —abandoning him without even a good-bye note, leaving him with a newborn girl he wasn't ready to care for. For his being so successful, and yet still not happy.
"I don't know if she's alive," he said. "But I do think she might as well be in Ghost Country, Piper. There's no getting her back. If I believed otherwise ... I don't think I could stand that, either. "
Behind them, a car door opened. Piper turned, and her heart sank. Jane was marching toward them in her business suit, wobbling over the sand in her high heels, her PDA in hand. The look on her face was partly annoyed, partly triumphant, and Piper knew she'd been in touch with the police.
Please fall down, Piper prayed. If there's any animal spirit or Greek god that can help, make Jane take a header. I'm not asking for permanent damage, just knock her out for the rest of the day, please?
But Jane kept advancing.
"Dad," Piper said quickly. "Something happened yesterday..."
But he'd seen Jane, too. He was already reconstructing his business face. Jane wouldn't be here if it wasn't serious. A studio head called—a project fell through—or Piper had messed up again.
"We'll get back to that, Pipes," he promised. "I'd better see what Jane wants. You know how she is. "
Yes—Piper knew. Dad trudged across the sand to meet her. Piper couldn't hear them talking, but she didn't need to. She was good at reading faces. Jane gave him the facts about the stolen car, occasionally pointing at Piper like she was a disgusting pet that had whizzed on the carpet.
Dad's energy and enthusiasm drained away. He gestured for Jane to wait. Then he walked back to Piper. She couldn't stand that look in his eyes—like she'd betrayed his trust.
"You told me you would try, Piper," he said.
"Dad, I hate that school. I can't do it. I wanted to tell you about the BMW, but—"
"They've expelled you," he said. "A car, Piper? You're sixteen next year. I would buy you any car you want. How could you—"
"You mean Jane would buy me a car?" Piper demanded. She couldn't help it. The anger just welled up and spilled out of her. "Dad, just listen for once. Don't make me wait for you to ask your stupid three questions. I want to go to regular school. I want you to take me to parents' night, not Jane. Or homeschool me! I learned so much when we read about Greece together. We could do that all the time! We could—"
"Don't make this about me," her dad said. "I do the best I can, Piper. We've had this conversation. "
No, she thought. You've cut off this conversation. For years.
Her dad sighed. "Jane's talked to the police, brokered a deal. The dealership won't press charges, but you have to agree to go to a boarding school in Nevada. They specialize in problems ... in kids with tough issues. "
"That's what I am. " Her voice trembled. "A problem. "
"Piper ... you said you'd try. You let me down. I don't know what else to do. "
"Do anything," she said. "But do it yourself! Don't let Jane handle it for you. You can't just send me away. "
Dad looked down at the picnic basket. His sandwich sat uneaten on a piece of gold leaf paper. They'd planned for a whole afternoon in the surf. Now that was ruined.
Piper couldn't believe he'd really give in to Jane's wishes. Not this time. Not on something as huge as boarding school.
"Go see her," Dad said. "She's got the details. "
"Dad ..."
He looked away, gazing at the ocean like he could see all the way to Ghost Country. Piper promised herself she wouldn't cry. She headed up the beach toward Jane, who smiled coldly and held up a plane ticket. As usual, she'd already arranged everything. Piper was just another problem of the day that Jane could now check off her list.
Piper's dream changed.
She stood on a mountaintop at night, city lights glimmering below. In front of her, a bonfire blazed. Purplish flames seemed to cast more shadows than light, but the heat was so intense, her clothes steamed.
"This is your second warning," a voice rumbled, so powerful it shook the earth. Piper had heard that voice before in her dreams. She'd tried to convince herself it wasn't as scary as she remembered, but it was worse.
Behind the bonfire, a huge face loomed out of the darkness. It seemed to float above the flames, but Piper knew it must be connected to an enormous body. The crude features might've been chiseled out of rock. The face hardly seemed alive except for its piercing white eyes, like raw diamonds, and its horrible frame of dreadlocks, braided with human bones. It smiled, and Piper shivered.
"You'll do what you're told," the giant said. "You'll go on the quest. Do our bidding, and you may walk away alive. Otherwise—"
He gestured to one side of the fire. Piper's father was hanging unconscious, tied to a stake.
She tried to cry out. She wanted to call to her dad, and demand the giant let him go, but her voice wouldn't work.
"I'll be watching," the giant said. "Serve me, and you both live. You have the word of Enceladus. Fail me ... well, I've slept for millennia, young demigod. I am very hungry. Fail, and I'll eat well. "
The giant roared with laughter. The earth trembled. A crevice opened at Piper's feet, and she tumbled into darkness.
•••
Piper opened her eyes, much to Estella's relief. Piper reached down and closed her hand around the hilt of her dagger she had gotten from her tour (Estella would later found out that it was called Katoptris, Helen of Troy's weapon.)
"How are you feeling?" Rachel asked, looking as relieved as Estella felt.
Piper was lying in a bed with a white curtain on one side, like in a nurse's office. Rachel and Estella sat on either side of her.
"Where—" Piper's voice died when she saw the guy at the door.
He looked like a typical California surfer dude—buff and tan, blond hair, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. But he had hundreds of blue eyes all over his body—along his arms, down his legs, and all over his face. Even his feet had eyes, peering up at her from between the straps of his sandals.
"That's Argus," Rachel said, "our head of security. He's just keeping an eye on things ... so to speak. "
Argus nodded. The eye on his chin winked.
"It's okay," Estella assured Piper. "Heck, I just about fainted when I saw him—but he's cool."
"Where—?" Piper tried again, but it seemed she couldn't get her full question out.
"You're in the Big House," Rachel said. "Camp offices. We brought you here when you collapsed. "
"You grabbed me," Piper remembered. "Hera's voice—"
"I'm so sorry about that," Rachel said. "Believe me, it was not my idea to get possessed. Chiron healed you with some nectar—"
"Nectar?"
"The drink of the gods. In small amounts, it heals demigods, if it doesn't—ah—burn you to ashes. "
"Oh. Fun. "
Rachel sat forward. "Do you remember your vision?"
"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.
"What's wrong with him?" Estella asked.
"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." Piper glanced at Estella, but she wasn't sure why.
Estella sighed.
"Don't worry. " Rachel squeezed Piper's 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. "
Estella frowned, not liking Rachel's implications, but she probably didn't mean any harm by it—though Piper sent Estella a panicked look, causing Estella to fill with dread.
To Estella's alarm, tears fell from Piper's eyes. "Hey, Pipes," Estella said, "It's okay. Everything's fine. Don't cry!"
Piper wiped her eyes and gave Estella a small smile.
"You'll figure it out," Rachel added.
"How can you know what I'm facing?" Piper asked, staring at Rachel.
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. Both of you, I'm almost sure. When you know who your godly parents are, things might be clearer. For the both of you."
Estella wasn't sure what Rachel meant—but she was afraid to ask.
Piper sat up.
Somewhere in the distance, a conch horn blew. Argus grumbled and opened the door.
"Dinner?" Piper guessed.
Estella shook her head. "That was hours ago." She looked at Rachel.
"You slept through it," Rachel said. "Time for the campfire. Let's go find out who you guys are. "