The Lost Hero

Cyclopes starting to re-form; how Leo had replaced the dragon’s wiring and gotten them back in the air just as they’d started to hear the Cyclopes roaring for vengeance inside the factory.

Jason was impressed. Taking out three Cyclopes with nothing but a tool kit? Not bad. It didn’t exactly scare him to hear how close he’d come to death, but it did make him feel horrible. He’d stepped right into an ambush and spent the whole fight knocked out while his friends fended for themselves. What kind of quest leader was he?

When Piper told him about the other kid the Cyclopes claimed to have eaten, the one in the purple shirt who spoke Latin, Jason felt like his head was going to explode. A son of Mercury … Jason felt like he should know that kid, but the name was missing from his mind.

“I’m not alone, then,” he said. “There are others like me.”

“Jason,” Piper said, “you were never alone. You’ve got us.”

“I—I know … but something Hera said. I was having a dream…”

He told them what he’d seen, and what the goddess had said inside her cage.

“An exchange?” Piper asked. “What does that mean?”

Jason shook his head. “But Hera’s gamble is me. Just by sending me to Camp Half-Blood, I have a feeling she broke some kind of rule, something that could blow up in a big way—”

“Or save us,” Piper said hopefully. “That bit about the sleeping enemy—that sounds like the lady Leo told us about.”

Leo cleared his throat. “About that … she kind of appeared to me back in Detroit, in a pool of Porta-Potty sludge.”

Jason wasn’t sure he’d heard that right. “Did you say … Porta-Potty?”

Leo told them about the big face in the factory yard. “I don’t know if she’s completely unkillable,” he said, “but she cannot be defeated by toilet seats. I can vouch for that. She wanted me to betray you guys, and I was like, ‘Pfft, right, I’m gonna listen to a face in the potty sludge.’”

“She’s trying to divide us.” Piper slipped her arms from around Jason’s waist. He could sense her tension without even looking at her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I just … Why are they toying with us? Who is this lady, and how is she connected to Enceladus?”

“Enceladus?” Jason didn’t think he’d heard that name before.

“I mean …” Piper’s voice quavered. “That’s one of the giants. Just one of the names I could remember.”

Jason got the feeling there was a lot more bothering her, but he decided he not to press her. She’d had a rough morning.

Leo scratched his head. “Well, I dunno about Enchiladas—”

“Enceladus,” Piper corrected.

“Whatever. But Old Potty Face mentioned another name. Porpoise Fear, or something?”

“Porphyrion?” Piper asked. “He was the giant king, I think.”

Jason envisioned that dark spire in the old reflecting pool—growing larger as Hera got weaker. “I’m going to take wild guess,” he said. “In the old stories, Porphyrion kidnapped Hera. That was the first shot in the war between the giants and the gods.”

“I think so,” Piper agreed. “But those myths are really garbled and conflicted. It’s almost like nobody wanted that story to survive. I just remember there was a war, and the giants were almost impossible to kill.”

“Heroes and gods had to work together,” Jason said. “That’s what Hera told me.”

“Kind of hard to do,” Leo grumbled, “if the gods won’t even talk to us.”

They flew west, and Jason became lost in his thoughts—all of them bad. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before the dragon dove through a break in the clouds, and below them, glittering in the winter sun, was a city at the edge of a massive lake. A crescent of skyscrapers lined the shore. Behind them, stretching out to the western horizon, was a vast grid of snow-covered neighborhoods and roads.

“Chicago,” Jason said.

He thought about what Hera had said in his dream. His worst mortal enemy would be waiting here. If he was going to die, it would be by her hand.

“One problem down,” Leo said. “We got here alive. Now, how do we find the storm spirits?”

Jason saw a flash of movement below them. At first he thought it was a small plane, but it was too small, too dark and fast. The thing spiraled toward the skyscrapers, weaving and changing shape—and, just for a moment it became the smoky figure of a horse.

“How about we follow that one,” Jason suggested, “and see where it goes?”

XXVI JASON

JASON WAS AFRAID THEY’D LOSE THEIR TARGET. The ventus moved like … well, like the wind.

“Speed up!” he urged.

“Bro,” Leo said, “if I get any closer, he’ll spot us. Bronze dragon ain’t exactly a stealth plane.”

“Slow down!” Piper yelped.

The storm spirit dove into the grid of downtown streets. Festus tried to follow, but his wingspan was way too wide. His left wing clipped the edge of a building, slicing off a stone gargoyle before Leo pulled up.

“Get above the buildings,” Jason suggested. “We’ll track him from there.”

“You want to drive this thing?” Leo grumbled, but he did what Jason asked.

After a few minutes, Jason spotted the storm spirit again, zipping through the streets with no apparent purpose—blowing over pedestrians, ruffling flags, making cars swerve.

“Oh great,” Piper said. “There’re two.”

She was right. A second ventus blasted around the corner of the Renaissance Hotel and linked up with the first. They wove together in a chaotic dance, shooting to the top of a skyscraper, bending a radio tower, and diving back down toward the street.

“Those guys do not need any more caffeine,” Leo said.

“I guess Chicago’s a good place to hang out,” Piper said. “Nobody’s going to question a couple more evil winds.”

“More than a couple,” Jason said. “Look.”

The dragon circled over a wide avenue next to a lake-side park. Storm spirits were converging—at least a dozen of them, whirling around a big public art installation.

“Which one do you think is Dylan?” Leo asked. “I wanna throw something at him.”

But Jason focused on the art installation. The closer they got to it, the faster his heart beat. It was just a public fountain, but it was unpleasantly familiar. Two five-story monoliths rose from either end of a long granite reflecting pool. The monoliths seemed to be built of video screens, flashing the combined image of a giant face that spewed water into the pool.

Maybe it was just a coincidence, but it looked like a high-tech, super-size version of that ruined reflecting pool he’d seen in his dreams, with those two dark masses jutting from either end. As Jason watched, the image on the screens changed to a woman’s face with her eyes closed.

“Leo …” he said nervously.

“I see her,” Leo said. “I don’t like her, but I see her.”

Then the screens went dark. The venti swirled together into a single funnel cloud and skittered across the fountain, kicking up a waterspout almost as high as the monoliths. They got to its center, popped off a drain cover, and disappeared underground.

“Did they just go down a drain?” Piper asked. “How are we supposed to follow them?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Leo said. “That fountain thing is giving me seriously bad vibes. And aren’t we supposed to, like, beware the earth?”

Jason felt the same way, but they had to follow. It was their only way forward. They had to find Hera, and they now had only two days until the solstice.