The Lost Hero (The Heroes of Olympus #1)(112)

Aphrodite winked at her. “You’re a smart one, Piper. You know.”

A cold feeling settled over her. “The sleeping woman, the one Medea and Midas called their patron. She’s managed to open a new entrance from the Underworld. She’s letting the dead escape back into the world.”

“Mmm. And not just any dead. The worst, the most powerful, the ones most likely to hate the gods.”

“The monsters are coming back from Tartarus the same way,” Piper guessed. “That’s why they don’t stay disintegrated.”

“Yes. Their patron, as you call her, has a special relationship with Tartarus, the spirit of the pit.” Aphrodite held up a gold sequined top. “No … this would make me look ridiculous.”

Piper laughed uneasily. “You? You can’t look anything but perfect.”

“You’re sweet,” Aphrodite said. “But beauty is about finding the right fit, the most natural fit. To be perfect, you have to feel perfect about yourself—avoid trying to be something you’re not. For a goddess, that’s especially hard. We can change so easily.”

“My dad thought you were perfect.” Piper’s voice quavered. “He never got over you.”

Aphrodite’s gaze became distant. “Yes … Tristan. Oh, he was amazing. So gentle and kind, funny and handsome. Yet he had so much sadness inside.”

“Could we please not talk about him in the past tense?”

“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t want to leave your father, of course. It’s always so hard, but it was for the best. If he had realized who I actually was—”

“Wait—he didn’t know you were a goddess?”

“Of course not.” Aphrodite sounded offended. “I wouldn’t do that to him. For most mortals, that’s simply too hard to accept. It can ruin their lives! Ask your friend Jason—lovelyboy, by the way. His poor mother was destroyed when she found out she’d fallen in love with Zeus. No, it was much better Tristan believed that I was a mortal woman who left him without explanation. Better a bittersweet memory than an immortal, unattainable goddess. Which brings me to an important matter …”

She opened her hand and showed Piper a glowing glass vial of pink liquid. “This is one of Medea’s kinder mixtures. It erases only recent memories. When you save your father, if you can save him, you should give him this.”

Piper couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You want me to dope my dad? You want me to make him forget what he’s been through?”

Aphrodite held up the vial. The liquid cast a pink glow over her face. “Your father acts confident, Piper, but he walks a fine line between two worlds. He’s worked his whole life to deny the old stories about gods and spirits, yet he fears those stories might be real. He fears that he’s shut off an important part of himself, and someday it will destroy him. Now he’s been captured by a giant. He’s living a nightmare. Even if he survives … if he has to spend the rest of his life with those memories, knowing that gods and spirits walk the earth, it will shatter him. That’s what our enemy hopes for. She will break him, and thus break your spirit.”

Piper wanted to shout that Aphrodite was wrong. Her dad was the strongest person she knew. Piper would never take his memories the way Hera had taken Jason’s.

But somehow she couldn’t stay angry with Aphrodite. She remembered what her dad had said months ago, at the beach at Big Sur: 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.

Now Piper wanted someone to blame, too.

“Who is she?” Piper demanded. “The one controlling the giants?”

Aphrodite pursed her lips. She moved to the next rack, which held battered armor and ripped togas, but Aphrodite looked through them as if they were designer outfits.

“You have a strong will,” she mused. “I’m never given much credit among the gods. My children are laughed at. They’re dismissed as conceited and shallow.”

“Some of them are.”

Aphrodite laughed. “Granted. Perhaps I’m conceited and shallow, too, sometimes. A girl has to indulge. Oh, this is nice.” She picked up a burned and stained bronze breastplate and held it up for Piper to see. “No?”

“No,” Piper said. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“Patience, my sweet,” the goddess said. “My point is that love is the most powerful motivator in the world. It spurs mortals to greatness. Their noblest, bravest acts are done for love.”

Piper pulled out her dagger and studied its reflective blade. “Like Helen starting the Trojan War?”

“Ah, Katoptris.” Aphrodite smiled. “I’m glad you found it. I get so much flack for that war, but honestly, Paris and Helen were a cute couple. And the heroes of that war are immortal now—at least in the memories of men. Love is powerful, Piper. It can bring even the gods to their knees. I told this to my son Aeneas when he escaped from Troy. He thought he had failed. He thought he was a loser! But he traveled to Italy—”

“And became the forebear of Rome.”

“Exactly. You see, Piper, my children can be quite powerful. You can be quite powerful, because my lineage is unique. I am closer to the beginning of creation than any other Olympian.”