The Lost Hero (The Heroes of Olympus #1)(60)

“Worse,” Cal echoed.

“Can you tell me?” Piper gave them a smile.

This time, the charm didn’t work. The purple-winged Boreads shook their heads in unison. The hangar doors opened onto a freezing starry night, and Festus the dragon stomped his feet, anxious to fly.

“Ask Aeolus what is worse,” Zethes said darkly. “He knows. Good luck.”

He almost sounded like he cared what happened to them, even though a few minutes ago he’d wanted to make Piper into an ice sculpture.

Cal patted Leo on the shoulder. “Don’t get destroyed,” he said, which was probably the longest sentence he’d ever attempted. “Next time—hockey. Pizza.”

“Come on, guys.” Jason stared out at the dark. He was anxious to get out of that cold penthouse, but he had a feeling it was the most hospitable place they’d see for a while. “Let’s go to Chicago and try not to get destroyed.”

PIPER DIDN’T RELAX UNTIL THE GLOW OF Quebec City faded behind them.

“You were amazing,” Jason told her.

The compliment should’ve made her day. But all she could think about was the trouble ahead. Evil things are stirring,Zethes had warned them. She knew that firsthand. The closer they got to the solstice, the less time Piper had to make her decision.

She told Jason in French: “If you knew the truth about me, you wouldn’t think I was so amazing.”

“What’d you say?” he asked.

“I said I only talked to Boreas. It wasn’t so amazing.”

She didn’t turn to look, but she imagined him smiling.

“Hey,” he said, “you saved me from joining Khione’s subzero hero collection. I owe you one.”

That was definitely the easy part, she thought. There was no way Piper would’ve let that ice witch keep Jason. What bothered Piper more was the way Boreas had changed form, and why he’d let them go. It had something to do with Jason’s past, those tattoos on his arm. Boreas assumed Jason was some sort of Roman, and Romans didn’t mix with Greeks. She kept waiting for Jason to offer an explanation, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

Until now, Piper had been able to dismiss Jason’s feeling that he didn’t belong at Camp Half-Blood. Obviously he was a demigod. Of course he belonged. But now … what if he was something else? What if he really was an enemy? She couldn’t stand that idea any more than she could stand Khione.

Leo passed them some sandwiches from his pack. He’d been quiet ever since they’d told him what happened in the throne room. “I still can’t believe Khione,” he said. “She looked so nice.”

“Trust me, man,” Jason said. “Snow may be pretty, but up close it’s cold and nasty. We’ll find you a better prom date.”

Piper smiled, but Leo didn’t look pleased. He hadn’t said much about his time in the palace, or why the Boreads had singled him out for smelling like fire. Piper got the feeling he was hiding something. Whatever it was, his mood seemed to be affecting Festus, who grumbled and steamed as he tried to keep himself warm in the cold Canadian air. Happy the Dragon was not so happy.

They ate their sandwiches as they flew. Piper had no idea how Leo had stocked up on supplies, but he’d even remembered to bring veggie rations for her. The cheese and avocado sandwich was awesome.

Nobody talked. Whatever they might find in Chicago, they all knew Boreas had only let them go because he figured they were already on a suicide mission.

The moon rose and stars turned overhead. Piper’s eyes started to feel heavy. The encounter with Boreas and his children had scared her more than she wanted to admit. Now that she had a full stomach, her adrenaline was fading.

Suck it up, cupcake! Coach Hedge would’ve yelled at her. Don’t be a wimp!

Piper had been thinking about the coach ever since Boreas mentioned he was still alive. She’d never liked Hedge, but he’d leaped off a cliff to save Leo, and he’d sacrificed himself to protect them on the skywalk. She now realized that all the times at school the coach had pushed her, yelled at her to run faster or do more push-ups, or even when he’d turned his back and let her fight her own battles with the mean girls, the old goat man had been trying to help her in his own irritating way—trying to prepare her for life as a demigod.

On the skywalk, Dylan the storm spirit had said something about the coach, too: how he’d been retired to Wilderness School because he was getting too old, like it was some sort of punishment. Piper wondered what that was about, and if it explained why the coach was always so grumpy. Whatever the truth, now that Piper knew Hedge was alive, she had a strong compulsion to save him.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, she chided. You’ve got bigger problems. This trip won’t have a happy ending.

She was a traitor, just like Silena Beauregard. It was only a matter of time before her friends found out.

She looked up at the stars and thought about a night long ago when she and her dad had camped out in front of Grandpa Tom’s house. Grandpa Tom had died years before, but Dad had kept his house in Oklahoma because it was where he grew up.

They’d gone back for a few days, with the idea of getting the place fixed up to sell, although Piper wasn’t sure who’d want to buy a run-down cabin with shutters instead of windows and two tiny rooms that smelled like cigars. The first night had been so stifling hot—no air conditioning in the middle of August—that Dad suggested they sleep outside.