The Lost Hero (The Heroes of Olympus #1)(46)

A few kids shot Piper nervous looks, like they might actually agree, but they said nothing.

The campers kept working, though Piper couldn’t see why the cabin needed much cleaning. It was a life-size dollhouse, with pink walls and white window trim. The lace curtains were pastel blue and green, which of course matched the sheets and feather comforters on all the beds.

The guys had one row of bunks separated by a curtain, but their section of the cabin was just as neat and orderly as the girls’. Something was definitely unnatural about that. Every camper had a wooden camp chest at the foot of their bunk with their name painted on it, and Piper guessed that the clothes in each chest were neatly folded and color coordinated. The only bit of individualism was how the campers decorated their private bunk spaces. Each had slightly different pictures tacked up of whatever celebrities they thought were hot. A few had personal photos, too, but most were actors or singers or whatever.

Piper hoped she might not see The Poster. It had been almost a year since the movie, and she thought by now surely everyone had torn down those old tattered advertisements and tacked up something newer. But no such luck. She spotted one on the wall by the storage closet, in the middle of a collage of famous heartthrobs.

The title was lurid red: king of sparta. Under that, the poster showed the leading man—a three-quarters shot of bare-chested bronze flesh, with ripped pectorals and six-pack abs. He was clad in only a Greek war kilt and a purple cape, sword in hand. He looked like he’d just been rubbed in oil, his short black hair gleaming and rivulets of sweat pouring off his rugged face, those dark sad eyes facing the camera as if to say, I will kill your men and steal your women! Ha-ha!

It was the most ridiculous poster of all time. Piper and her dad had had a good laugh over it the first time they saw it. Then the movie made a bajillion dollars. The poster graphic popped up everywhere. Piper couldn’t get away from it at school, walking down the street, even online. It became The Poster, the most embarrassing thing in her life. And yeah, it was a picture of her dad.

She turned away so no one would think she was staring at it. Maybe when everyone went to breakfast she could tear it down and they wouldn’t notice.

She tried to look busy, but she didn’t have any extra clothes to fold. She straightened her bed, then realized the top blanket was the one Jason had wrapped around her shoulders last night. She picked it up and pressed it to her face. It smelled of wood smoke, but unfortunately not of Jason. He was the only person who’d been genuinely nice to her after the claiming, like he cared about how she felt, not just about her stupid new clothes. God, she’d wanted to kiss him, but he’d seemed so uncomfortable, almost scared of her. She couldn’t really blame him. She’d been glowing pink.

“’Scuse me,” said a voice by her feet. The garbage patrol guy, Mitchell, was crawling around on all fours, picking up chocolate wrappers and crumpled notes from under the bunk beds. Apparently the Aphrodite kids weren’t one hundred percent neat freaks after all.

She moved out of his way. “What’d you do to make Drew mad?”

He glanced over at the bathroom door to make sure it was still closed. “Last night, after you were claimed, I said you might not be so bad.”

It wasn’t much of a compliment, but Piper was stunned. An Aphrodite kid had actually stood up for her?

“Thanks,” she said.

Mitchell shrugged. “Yeah, well. See where it got me. But for what it’s worth, welcome to Cabin Ten.”

A girl with blond pigtails and braces raced up with a pile of clothes in her arms. She looked around furtively like she was delivering nuclear materials.

“I brought you these,” she whispered.

“Piper, meet Lacy,” Mitchell said, still crawling around on the floor.

“Hi,” Lacy said breathlessly. “You can change clothes. The blessing won’t stop you. This is just, you know, a backpack, some rations, ambrosia and nectar for emergencies, some jeans, a few extra shirts, and a warm jacket. The boots might be a little snug. But—well—we took up a collection. Good luck on your quest!”

Lacy dumped the things on the bed and started to hurry away, but Piper caught her arm. “Hold on. At least let me thank you! Why are you rushing off?”

Lacy looked like she might shake apart from nervousness. “Oh, well—”

“Drew might find out,” Mitchell explained.

“I might have to wear the shoes of shame!” Lacy gulped.

“The what?” Piper asked.

Lacy and Mitchell both pointed to a black shelf mounted in the corner of the room, like an altar. Displayed on it were a hideous pair of orthopedic nurse’s shoes, bright white with thick soles.

“I had to wear them for a week once,” Lacy whimpered. “They don’t go with anything!”

“And there’re worse punishments,” Mitchell warned. “Drew can charmspeak, see? Not many Aphrodite kids have that power; but if she tries hard enough, she can get you to do some pretty embarrassing things. Piper, you’re the first person I’ve seen in a long time who is able to resist her.”

“Charmspeak …” Piper remembered last night, the way the crowd at the campfire had swayed back and forth between Drew’s opinion and hers. “You mean, like, you could talk someone into doing things. Or … giving you things. Like a car?”