The Lost Hero

XLVI PIPER

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL DIDN’T WANT TO let an unscheduled helicopter land at the Oakland Airport—until Piper got on the radio. Then it turned out to be no problem.

They unloaded on the tarmac, and everyone looked at Piper.

“What now?” Jason asked her.

She felt uncomfortable. She didn’t want to be in charge, but for her dad’s sake, she had to appear confident. She had no plan. She’d just remembered that he’d flown into Oakland, which meant his private plane would still be here. But today was the solstice. They had to save Hera. They had no idea where to go or if they were even too late. And how could she leave her dad in this condition?

“First thing,” she said. “I—I have to get my dad home. I’m sorry, guys.”

Their faces fell.

“Oh,” Leo said. “I mean, absolutely. He needs you right now. We can take it from here.”

“Pipes, no.” Her dad had been sitting in the helicopter doorway, a blanket around his shoulders. But he stumbled to his feet. “You have a mission. A quest. I can’t—”

“I’ll take care of him,” said Coach Hedge.

Piper stared at him. The satyr was the last person she’d expected to offer. “You?” she asked.

“I’m a protector,” Gleeson said. “That’s my job, not fighting.”

He sounded a little crestfallen, and Piper realized maybe she shouldn’t have recounted how he got knocked unconscious in the last battle. In his own way, maybe the satyr was as sensitive as her dad.

Then Hedge straightened, and set his jaw. “Of course, I’m good at fighting, too.” He glared at them all, daring them to argue.

“Yes,” Jason said.

“Terrifying,” Leo agreed.

The coach grunted. “But I’m a protector, and I can do this. Your dad’s right, Piper. You need to carry on with the quest.”

“But …” Piper’s eyes stung, as if she were back in the forest fire. “Dad …”

He held out his arms, and she hugged him. He felt frail. He was trembling so much, it scared her.

“Let’s give them a minute,” Jason said, and they took the pilot a few yards down the tarmac.

“I can’t believe it,” her dad said. “I failed you.”

“No, Dad!”

“The things they did, Piper, the visions they showed me …”

“Dad, listen.” She took out the vial from her pocket. “Aphrodite gave me this, for you. It takes away your recent memories. It’ll make it like none of this ever happened.”

He gazed at her, as if translating her words from a foreign language. “But you’re a hero. I would forget that?”

“Yes,” Piper whispered. She forced an assuring tone into her voice. “Yes, you would. It’ll be like—like before.”

He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. “I love you, Piper. I always have. I—I sent you away because I didn’t want you exposed to my life. Not the way I grew up—the poverty, the hopelessness. Not the Hollywood insanity either. I thought—I thought I was protecting you.” He managed a brittle laugh. “As if your life without me was better, or safer.”

Piper took his hand. She’d heard him talk about protecting her before, but she’d never believed it. She’d always thought he was just rationalizing. Her dad seemed so confident and easygoing, like his life was a joyride. How could he claim she needed protecting from that?

Finally Piper understood he’d been acting for her benefit, trying not to show how scared and insecure he was. He really had been trying to protect her. And now his ability to cope had been destroyed.

She offered him the vial. “Take it. Maybe someday we’ll be ready to talk about this again. When you’re ready.”

“When I’m ready,” he murmured. “You make it sound like—like I’m the one growing up. I’m supposed to be the parent.” He took the vial. His eyes glimmered with a small desperate hope. “I love you, Pipes.”

“Love you, too, Dad.”

He drank the pink liquid. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he slumped forward. Piper caught him, and her friends ran up to help.

“Got him,” Hedge said. The satyr stumbled, but he was strong enough to hold Tristan McLean upright. “I already asked our ranger friend to call up his plane. It’s on the way now. Home address?”

Piper was about to tell him. Then a thought occurred to her. She checked her dad’s pocket, and his BlackBerry was still there. It seemed bizarre that he’d still have something so normal after all he’d been through, but she guessed Enceladus hadn’t seen any reason to take it.

“Everything’s on here,” Piper said. “Address, his chauffeur’s number. Just watch out for Jane.”

Hedge’s eyes lit up, like he sensed a possible fight. “Who’s Jane?”

By the time Piper explained, her dad’s sleek white Gulf-stream had taxied next to the helicopter.

Hedge and the flight attendant got Piper’s dad on board. Then Hedge came down one last time to say his good-byes. He gave Piper a hug and glared at Jason and Leo. “You cupcakes take care of this girl, you hear? Or I’m gonna make you do push-ups.”

“You got it, Coach,” Leo said, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“No push-ups,” Jason promised.

Piper gave the old satyr one more hug. “Thank you, Gleeson. Take care of him, please.”

“I got this, McLean,” he assured her. “They got root beer and veggie enchiladas on this flight, and one hundred percent linen napkins—yum! I could get used to this.”

Trotting up the stairs, he lost one shoe, and his hoof was visible for just a second. The flight attendant’s eyes widened, but she looked away and pretended nothing was wrong. Piper figured she’d probably seen stranger things, working for Tristan McLean.

When the plane was heading down the runaway, Piper started to cry. She’d been holding it in too long and she just couldn’t anymore. Before she knew it, Jason was hugging her, and Leo stood uncomfortably nearby, pulling Kleenex out of his tool belt.

“Your dad’s in good hands,” Jason said. “You did amazing.”

She sobbed into his shirt. She allowed herself to be held for six deep breaths. Seven. Then she couldn’t indulge herself anymore. They needed her. The helicopter pilot was already looking uncomfortable, like she was starting to wonder why she’d flown them here.

“Thank you, guys,” Piper said. “I—”

She wanted to tell them how much they meant to her. They’d sacrificed everything, maybe even their quest, to help her. She couldn’t repay them, couldn’t even put her gratitude into words. But her friends’ expressions told her they understood.

Then, right next to Jason, the air began to shimmer. At first Piper thought it was heat off the tarmac, or maybe gas fumes from the helicopter, but she’d seen something like this before in Medea’s fountain. It was an Iris message. An image appeared in the air—a dark-haired girl in silver winter camouflage, holding a bow.

Jason stumbled back in surprise. “Thalia!”

“Thank the gods,” said the Hunter. The scene behind her was hard to make out, but Piper heard yelling, metal clashing on metal, and explosions.

“We’ve found her,” Thalia said. “Where are you?”

“Oakland,” he said. “Where are you?”

“The Wolf House! Oakland is good; you’re not too far. We’re holding off the giant’s minions, but we can’t hold them forever. Get here before sunset, or it’s all over.”

“Then it’s not too late?” Piper cried. Hope surged through her, but Thalia’s expression quickly dampened it.

“Not yet,” Thalia said. “But Jason—it’s worse than I realized. Porphyrion is rising. Hurry.”

“But where is the Wolf House?” he pleaded.

“Our last trip,” Thalia said, her image starting to flicker. “The park. Jack London. Remember?”

This made no sense to Piper, but Jason looked like he’d been shot. He tottered, his face pale, and the Iris message disappeared.

“Bro, you all right?” Leo asked. “You know where she is?”

“Yes,” Jason said. “Sonoma Valley. Not far. Not by air.”

Piper turned to the ranger pilot, who’d been watching all this with an increasingly puzzled expression.

“Ma’am,” Piper said with her best smile. “You don’t mind helping us one more time, do you?”

“I don’t mind,” the pilot agreed.

“We can’t take a mortal into battle,” Jason said. “It’s too dangerous.” He turned to Leo. “Do you think you could fly this thing?”

“Um …” Leo’s expression didn’t exactly reassure Piper. But then he put his hand on the side of the helicopter, concentrating hard, as if listening to the machine.

“Bell 412HP utility helicopter,” Leo said. “Composite four-blade main rotor, cruising speed twenty-two knots, service ceiling twenty-thousand feet. The tank is near full. Sure, I can fly it.”

Piper smiled at the ranger again. “You don’t have a problem with an under-aged unlicensed kid borrowing your copter, do you? We’ll return it.”

“I—” The pilot nearly choked on the words, but she got them out: “I don’t have a problem with that.”

Leo grinned. “Hop in, kids. Uncle Leo’s gonna take you for a ride.”