The Mark of Athena (The Heroes of Olympus #3)(91)

“Piper, you had no choice.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “You saved my life.”

She wiped her eyes and tried to control herself. The sun was nearing the horizon. They had to get back to Hercules quickly, or their friends would die.

“Achelous forced your hand,” Jason continued. “Besides, I doubt that lightning bolt killed him. He’s an ancient god. You’d have to destroy his river to destroy him. And he can live without a horn. If you had to lie about not giving it to Hercules, well—”

“I wasn’t lying.”

Jason stared at her. “Pipes…we don’t have a choice. Hercules will kill—”

“Hercules doesn’t deserve this.” Piper wasn’t sure where this rage was coming from, but she had never felt more certain of anything in her life.

Hercules was a bitter, selfish jerk. He’d hurt too many people, and he wanted to keep on hurting them. Maybe he’d had some bad breaks. Maybe the gods had kicked him around. But that didn’t excuse it. A hero couldn’t control the gods, but he should be able to control himself.

Jason would never be like that. He would never blame others for his problems or make a grudge more important than doing the right thing.

Piper was not going to repeat Deianira’s story. She wasn’t going to go along with what Hercules wanted just because he was handsome and strong and scary. He couldn’t get his way this time—not after threatening their lives and sending them to make Achelous miserable for the sake of spiting Hera. Hercules didn’t deserve a horn of plenty. Piper was going to put him in his place.

“I have a plan,” she said.

She told Jason what to do. She didn’t even realize she was using charmspeak until his eyes glazed over.

“Whatever you say,” he promised. Then he blinked a few times. “We’re going to die, but I’m in.”

Hercules was waiting right where they’d left him. He was staring at the Argo II, docked between the pillars as the sun set behind it. The ship looked okay, but Piper’s plan had started to feel insane to her.

Too late to reconsider. She’d already sent an Iris-message to Leo. Jason was prepared. And, seeing Hercules again, she felt more certain than ever she couldn’t give him what he wanted.

Hercules didn’t exactly brighten when he saw Piper carrying the bull’s horn, but his scowl lines lessened.

“Good,” he said. “You got it. In that case, you are free to go.”

Piper glanced at Jason. “You heard him. He gave us permission.” She turned back to the god. “That means our ship will be able to pass into the Mediterranean?”

“Yes, yes.” Hercules snapped his fingers. “Now, the horn.”

“No,” Piper said.

The god frowned. “Excuse me?”

She raised the cornucopia. Since she’d cut it from Achelous’s head, the horn had hollowed out, becoming smooth and dark on the inside. It didn’t appear magical, but Piper was counting on its power.

“Achelous was right,” she said. “You’re his curse as much as he is yours. You’re a sorry excuse for a hero.”

Hercules stared at her as if she were speaking in Japanese. “You realize I could kill you with a flick of my finger,” he said. “I could throw my club at your ship and cut straight through its hull. I could—”

“You could shut up,” Jason said. He drew his sword. “Maybe Zeus is different from Jupiter. Because I wouldn’t put up with any brother who acts like you.”

The veins on Hercules’s neck turned as purple as his robes. “You would not be the first demigod I’ve killed.”

“Jason is better than you,” Piper said. “But don’t worry. We’re not going to fight you. We’re going to leave this island with the horn. You don’t deserve it as a prize. I’m going to keep it, to remind me of what not to be like as a demigod, and to remind me of poor Achelous and Deianira.”

The god’s nostrils flared. “Do not mention that name! You can’t seriously think I’m worried about your puny boyfriend. No one is stronger than me.”

“I didn’t say stronger,” Piper corrected. “I said he’s better.”

Piper pointed the mouth of the horn at Hercules. She let go of the resentment and doubt and anger she’d been harboring since Camp Jupiter. She concentrated on all the good things she’d shared with Jason Grace: soaring upward in the Grand Canyon, walking on the beach at Camp Half-Blood, holding hands at the sing-along and watching the stars, sitting by the strawberry fields together on lazy afternoons and listening to the satyrs play their pipes.

She thought about a future when the giants had been defeated, Gaea was asleep, and they would live happily together—no jealousy, no monsters left to battle. She filled her heart with those thoughts, and she felt the cornucopia grow warm.

The horn blasted forth a flood of food as powerful as Achelous’s river. A torrent of fresh fruit, baked goods, and smoked hams completely buried Hercules. Piper didn’t understand how all that stuff could fit through the entrance of the horn, but she thought the hams were especially appropriate.

When it had spewed out enough goodies to fill a house, the horn shut itself off. Piper heard Hercules shrieking and struggling somewhere underneath. Apparently even the strongest god in the world could be caught off guard when buried under fresh produce.