The Lost Hero (The Heroes of Olympus #1)(31)

She looked down at the ceremonial dagger strapped to her side. Annabeth had said it was a sign of power and status, but not normally used in battle. All show and no substance. A fake, just like Piper. And its name was Katoptris, looking glass. She didn’t dare unsheathe it again, because she couldn’t bear to see her own reflection.

“Don’t worry.” Rachel squeezed her 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.”

Rachel smiled like this was good news, but Piper’s spirits plunged even further. She’d thought that this quest—whatever it was—would involve nameless people. Now Rachel was basically telling her: Good news! Not only is your dad being held ransom by a cannibal giant, you also get to betray the guy you like! How awesome is that?

“Hey,” Rachel said. “No need to cry. You’ll figure it out.”

Piper wiped her eyes, trying to get control of herself. This wasn’t like her. She was supposed to be tough—a hardened car thief, the scourge of L.A. private schools. Here she was, crying like a baby. “How can you know what I’m facing?”

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. I’m almost sure. When you know who your godly parent is, things might be clearer.”

Clearer, Piper thought. Not necessarily better.

She sat up in bed. Her forehead ached like someone had driven a spike between her eyes. There’s no getting your mother back, her dad had told her. But apparently, tonight, her mom might claim her. For the first time, Piper wasn’t sure she wanted that.

“I hope it’s Athena.” She looked up, afraid Rachel might make fun of her, but the oracle just smiled.

“Piper, I don’t blame you. Truthfully? I think Annabeth is hoping that too. You guys are a lot alike.”

The comparison made Piper feel even guiltier. “Another hunch? You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re an oracle, aren’t you? You’re supposed to sound all mysterious.”

Rachel laughed. “Don’t be giving away my secrets, Piper. And don’t worry. Things will work out—just maybe not the way you plan.”

“That’s not making me feel better.”

Somewhere in the distance, a conch horn blew. Argus grumbled and opened the door.

“Dinner?” Piper guessed.

“You slept through it,” Rachel said. “Time for the campfire. Let’s go find out who you are.”

THE WHOLE CAMPFIRE IDEA FREAKED PIPER OUT. It made her think of that huge purple bonfire in the dreams, and her father tied to a stake.

What she got instead was almost as terrifying: a sing-along. The amphitheater steps were carved into the side of a hill, facing a stone-lined fire pit. Fifty or sixty kids filled the rows, clustered into groups under various banners.

Piper spotted Jason in the front next to Annabeth. Leo was nearby, sitting with a bunch of burly-looking campers under a steel gray banner emblazoned with a hammer. Standing in front of the fire, half a dozen campers with guitars and strange, old-fashioned harps—lyres?—were jumping around, leading a song about pieces of armor, something about how their grandma got dressed for war. Everybody was singing with them and making gestures for the pieces of armor and joking around. It was quite possibly the weirdest thing Piper had ever seen—one of those campfire songs that would’ve been completely embarrassing in daylight; but in the dark, with everybody participating, it was kind of corny and fun. As the energy level got higher, the flames did too, turning from red to orange to gold.

Finally the song ended with a lot of rowdy applause. A guy on a horse trotted up. At least in the flickering light, Piper thought it was a guy on a horse. Then she realized it was a centaur—his bottom half a white stallion, his top half a middle-aged guy with curly hair and a trimmed beard. He brandished a spear impaled with toasted marshmallows. “Very nice! And a special welcome to our new arrivals. I am Chiron, camp activities director, and I’m happy you have all arrived here alive and with most of your limbs attached. In a moment, I promise we’ll get to the s’mores, but first—”

“What about capture the flag?” somebody yelled. Grumbling broke out among some kids in armor, sitting under a red banner with the emblem of a boar’s head.

“Yes,” the centaur said. “I know the Ares cabin is anxious to return to the woods for our regular games.”

“And kill people!” one of them shouted.

“However,” Chiron said, “until the dragon is brought under control, that won’t be possible. Cabin Nine, anything to report on that?”

He turned to Leo’s group. Leo winked at Piper and shot her with a finger gun. The girl next to him stood uncomfortably. She wore an army jacket a lot like Leo’s, with her hair covered in a red bandanna. “We’re working on it.”

More grumbling.

“How, Nyssa?” an Ares kid demanded.

“Really hard,” the girl said.

Nyssa sat down to a lot of yelling and complaining, which caused the fire to sputter chaotically. Chiron stamped his hoof against the fire pit stones—bang, bang, bang—and the campers fell silent.