The Lost Hero (The Heroes of Olympus #1)(111)

“Can’t—hold—long,” Mellie warned. “Stay together! When the winds hit—”

“You’re doing great, Mellie,” Hedge said. “My own mama was an aura, you know. She couldn’t have done better herself.”

“Iris-message me?” Mellie pleaded.

Hedge winked.

“Could you guys plan your date later?” Piper screamed. “Look!”

Behind them, the tunnel was turning dark. Jason could feel his ears pop as the pressure built.

“Can’t hold them,” Mellie warned. “But I’ll try to shield you, do you one more favor.”

“Thanks, Mellie,” Jason said. “I hope you get a new job.”

She smiled, and then dissolved, wrapping them in a warm gentle breeze. Then the real winds hit, shooting them into the sky so fast, Jason blacked out.

PIPER DREAMED SHE WAS ON THE Wilderness School dorm roof.

The desert night was cold, but she’d brought blankets, and with Jason next to her, she didn’t need any more warmth.

The air smelled of sage and burning mesquite. On the horizon, the Spring Mountains loomed like jagged black teeth, the dim glow of Las Vegas behind them.

The stars were so bright, Piper had been afraid they wouldn’t be able to see the meteor shower. She didn’t want Jason to think she’d dragged him up here on false pretenses. (Even though her pretenses had been totally false.) But the meteors did not disappoint. One streaked across the sky almost every minute—a line of white, yellow, or blue fire. Piper was sure her Grandpa Tom would have some Cherokee myth to explain them, but at the moment she was busy creating her own story.

Jason took her hand—finally—and pointed as two meteors skipped across the atmosphere and formed a cross.

“Wow,” he said. “I can’t believe Leo didn’t want to see this.”

“Actually, I didn’t invite him,” Piper said casually.

Jason smiled. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. You ever feel like three would be a crowd?”

“Yeah,” Jason admitted. “Like right now. You know how much trouble we’d get in if we got caught up here?”

“Oh, I’d make up something,” Piper said. “I can be very persuasive. So you want to dance, or what?”

He laughed. His eyes were amazing, and his smile was even better in the starlight. “With no music. At night. On a rooftop. Sounds dangerous.”

“I’m a dangerous girl.”

“That, I can believe.”

He stood and offered her his hand. They slow danced a few steps, but it quickly turned into a kiss. Piper almost couldn’t kiss him again, because she was too busy smiling.

Then her dream changed—or maybe she was dead in the Underworld—because she found herself back in Medea’s department store.

“Please let this be a dream,” she murmured, “and not my eternal punishment.”

“No, dear,” said a woman’s honey-sweet voice. “No punishment.”

Piper turned, afraid she’d see Medea, but a different woman stood next to her, browsing through the fifty-percent-off rack.

The woman was gorgeous—shoulder-length hair, a graceful neck, perfect features, and an amazing figure tucked into jeans and a snowy white top.

Piper had seen her share of actresses—most of her dad’s dates were knockout beautiful—but this lady was different. She was elegant without trying, fashionable without effort, stunning without makeup. After seeing Aeolus with his silly face-lifts and cosmetics, Piper thought this woman looked even more astonishing. There was nothing artificial about her.

Yet as Piper watched, the woman’s appearance changed. Piper couldn’t decide the color of her eyes, or the exact color of her hair. The woman became more and more beautiful, as if her image were aligning itself to Piper’s thoughts—getting as close as possible to Piper’s ideal of beauty.

“Aphrodite,” Piper said. “Mom?”

The goddess smiled. “You’re only dreaming, my sweet. If anyone wonders, I wasn’t here. Okay?”

“I—” Piper wanted to ask a thousand questions, but they all crowded together in her head.

Aphrodite held up a turquoise dress. Piper thought it looked awesome, but the goddess made a face. “This isn’t my color, is it? Pity, it’s cute. Medea really does have some lovely things here.”

“This—this building exploded,” Piper stammered. “I saw it.”

“Yes,” Aphrodite agreed. “I suppose that’s why everything’s on sale. Just a memory, now. And I’m sorry to pull you out of your other dream. Much more pleasant, I know.”

Piper’s face burned. She didn’t know whether she was more angry or embarrassed, but mostly she felt hollow with disappointment. “It wasn’t real. It never even happened. So why do I remember it so vividly?”

Aphrodite smiled. “Because you are my daughter, Piper. You see possibilities much more vividly than others. You see what could be. And it still might be—don’t give up. Unfortunately—” The goddess gestured around the department store. “You have other trials to face, first. Medea will be back, along with many other enemies. The Doors of Death have opened.”

“What do you mean?”