The Lost Hero (The Heroes of Olympus #1)(136)

The only computer at camp was in Chiron’s office, and the whole room was shielded in bronze plating.

“Demigods and technology don’t mix,” Chiron explained. “Phone calls, texting, even browsing the Internet—all these things can attract monsters. Why, just this fall at a school in Cincinnati, we had to rescue a young hero who Googled the gorgons and got a little more than he bargained for, but never mind that. Here at camp, you’re protected. Still … we try to be cautious. You’ll only be able to talk for a few minutes.”

“Got it,” Piper said. “Thank you, Chiron.”

He smiled and wheeled himself out of the office. Piper hesitated before clicking the call button. Chiron’s office had a cluttered, cozy feel. One wall was covered with T-shirts from different conventions—party ponies ’09 vegas, party ponies ’10 honolulu, et cetera. Piper didn’t know who the Party Ponies were, but judging from the stains, scorch marks, and weapon holes in the T-shirts, they must’ve had some pretty wild meetings. On the shelf over Chiron’s desk sat an old-fashioned boom box with cassette tapes labeled “Dean Martin” and “Frank Sinatra” and “Greatest Hits of the 40s.” Chiron was so old, Piper wondered if that meant 1940s, 1840s, or maybe just A.D. 40.

But most of the office’s wall space was plastered with photos of demigods, like a hall of fame. One of the newer shots showed a teenage guy with dark hair and green eyes. Since he stood arm in arm with Annabeth, Piper assumed the guy must be Percy Jackson. In some of the older photos, she recognized famous people: businessmen, athletes, even some actors that her dad knew.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered.

Piper wondered if her photo would go on that wall someday. For the first time, she felt like she was part of something bigger than herself. Demigods had been around for centuries. Whatever she did, she did for all of them.

She took a deep breath and made the call. The video screen popped up.

Gleeson Hedge grinned at her from her dad’s office. “Seen the news?”

“Kind of hard to miss,” Piper said. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Chiron had shown her a newspaper at lunch. Her dad’s mysterious return from nowhere had made the front page. His personal assistant Jane had been fired for covering up his disappearance and failing to notify the police. A new staff had been hired and personally vetted by Tristan McLean’s “life coach,” Gleeson Hedge. According to the paper, Mr. McLean claimed to have no memory of the last week, and the media was totally eating up the story. Some thought it was a clever marketing ploy for a movie—maybe McLean was going to play an amnesiac? Some thought he’d been kidnapped by terrorists, or rabid fans, or had heroically escaped from ransom seekers using his incredible King of Sparta fighting skills. Whatever the truth, Tristan McLean was more famous than ever.

“It’s going great,” Hedge promised. “But don’t worry. We’re going to keep him out of the public eye for the next month or so until things cool down. Your dad’s got more important things to do—like resting, and talking to his daughter.”

“Don’t get too comfortable out there in Hollywood, Gleeson,” Piper said.

Hedge snorted. “You kidding? These people make Aeolus look sane. I’ll be back as soon as I can, but your dad’s gotta get back on his feet first. He’s a good guy. Oh, and by the way, I took care of that other little matter. The Park Service in the Bay Area just got an anonymous gift of a new helicopter. And that ranger pilot who helped us? She’s got a very lucrative offer to fly for Mr. McLean.”

“Thanks, Gleeson,” Piper said. “For everything.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t try to be awesome. It just comes natural. Speaking of Aeolus’s place, meet your dad’s new assistant.”

Hedge was nudged out of the way, and a pretty young lady grinned into the camera.

“Mellie?” Piper stared, but it was definitely her: the aura who’d helped them escape from Aeolus’s fortress. “You’re working for my dad now?”

“Isn’t it great?”

“Does he know you’re a—you know—wind spirit?”

“Oh, no. But I love this job. It’s—um—a breeze.”

Piper couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m glad. That’s awesome. But where—”

“Just a sec.” Mellie kissed Gleeson on the cheek. “Come on, you old goat. Stop hogging the screen.”

“What?” Hedge demanded. But Mellie steered him away and called, “Mr. McLean? She’s on!”

A second later, Piper’s dad appeared.

He broke into a huge grin. “Pipes!”

He looked great—back to normal, with his sparkling brown eyes, his half-day beard, his confident smile, and his newly trimmed hair like he was ready to shoot a scene. Piper was relieved, but she also felt a little sad. Back to normal wasn’t necessarily what she’d wanted.

In her mind, she started the clock. On a normal call like this, on a workday, she hardly ever got her dad’s attention for longer than thirty seconds.

“Hey,” she said weakly. “You feeling okay?”

“Honey, I’m so sorry to worry you with this disappearance business. I don’t know …” His smile wavered, and she could tell he was trying to remember—grasping for a memory that should have been there, but wasn’t. “I’m not sure what happened, honestly. But I’m fine. Coach Hedge has been a godsend.”