The Lost Hero

future. I was hoping she could help me—”

“Find Percy,” Piper guessed.

All the energy drained out of Annabeth, like she’d been holding it together for as long as she could. She sat down on a rock, and her expression was so full of pain, Piper felt like a voyeur.

She forced herself to look away. Her eyes drifted to the crest of the hill, where a single pine tree dominated the skyline. Something glittered in its lowest branch—like a fuzzy gold bath mat.

No … not a bath mat. It was a sheep’s fleece.

Okay, Piper thought. Greek camp. They’ve got a replica of the Golden Fleece.

Then she noticed the base of the tree. At first she thought it was wrapped in a pile of massive purple cables. But the cables had reptilian scales, clawed feet, and a snakelike head with yellow eyes and smoking nostrils.

“That’s—a dragon,” she stammered. “That’s the actual Golden Fleece?”

Annabeth nodded, but it was clear she wasn’t really listening. Her shoulders drooped. She rubbed her face and took a shaky breath. “Sorry. A little tired.”

“You look ready to drop,” Piper said. “How long have been searching for your boyfriend?”

“Three days, six hours, and about twelve minutes.”

“And you’ve got no idea what happened to him?”

Annabeth shook her head miserably. “We were so excited because we both started winter break early. We met up at camp on Tuesday, figured we had three weeks together. It was going to be great. Then after the campfire, he—he kissed me good night, went back to his cabin, and in the morning, he was gone. We searched the whole camp. We contacted his mom. We’ve tried to reach him every way we know how. Nothing. He just disappeared.”

Piper was thinking: Three days ago. The same night she’d had her dream. “How long were you guys together?”

“Since August,” Annabeth said. “August eighteenth.”

“Almost exactly when I met Jason,” Piper said. “But we’ve only been together a few weeks.”

Annabeth winced. “Piper … about that. Maybe you should sit down.”

Piper knew where this was going. Panic started building inside her, like her lungs were filling with water. “Look, I know Jason thought—he thought he just appeared at our school today. But that’s not true. I’ve known him for four months.”

“Piper,” Annabeth said sadly. “It’s the Mist.”

“Missed … what?”

“M-i-s-t. It’s a kind of veil separating the mortal world from the magic world. Mortal minds—they can’t process strange stuff like gods and monsters, so the Mist bends reality. It makes mortals see things in a way they can understand —like their eyes might just skip over this valley completely, or they might look at that dragon and see a pile of cables.”

Piper swallowed. “No. You said yourself I’m not a regular mortal. I’m a demigod.”

“Even demigods can be affected. I’ve seen it lots of times. Monsters infiltrate some place like a school, pass themselves off as human, and everyone thinks they remember that person. They believe he’s always been around. The Mist can change memories, even create memories of things that never happened —”

“But Jason’s not a monster!” Piper insisted. “He’s a human guy, or demigod, or whatever you want to call him. My memories aren’t fake. They’re so real. The time we set Coach Hedge’s pants on fire. The time Jason and I watched a meteor shower on the dorm roof and I finally got the stupid guy to kiss me....”

She found herself rambling, telling Annabeth about her whole semester at Wilderness School. She’d liked Jason from the first week they’d met. He was so nice to her, and so patient, he could even put up with hyperactive Leo and his stupid jokes. He’d accepted her for herself and didn’t judge her because of the stupid things she’d done. They’d spent hours talking, looking at the stars, and eventually—finally—holding hands. All that couldn’t be fake.

Annabeth pursed her lips. “Piper, your memories are a lot sharper than most. I’ll admit that, and I don’t know why that is. But if you know him so well—”

“I do!”

“Then where is he from?”

Piper felt like she’d been hit between the eyes. “He must have told me, but—”

“Did you ever notice his tattoo before today? Did he ever tell you anything about his parents, or his friends, or his last school?”

“I—I don’t know, but—”

“Piper, what’s his last name?”

Her mind went blank. She didn’t know Jason’s last name. How could that be?

She started to cry. She felt like a total fool, but she sat down on the rock next to Annabeth and just fell to pieces. It was too much. Did everything that was good in her stupid, miserable life have to be taken away?

Yes, the dream had told her. Yes, unless you do exactly what we say.

“Hey,” Annabeth said. “We’ll figure it out. Jason’s here now. Who knows? Maybe it’ll work out with you guys for real.”

Not likely, Piper thought. Not if the dream had told her the truth. But she couldn’t say that.

She brushed a tear from her cheek. “You brought me up here so no one would see me blubbering, huh?”

Annabeth shrugged. “I figured it would be hard for you. I know what it’s like to lose your boyfriend.”

“But I still can’t believe … I know we had something. And now it’s just gone, like he doesn’t even recognize me. If he really did just show up today, then why? How’d he get there? Why can’t he remember anything?”

“Good questions,” Annabeth said. “Hopefully Chiron can figure that out. But for now, we need to get you settled. You ready to go back down?”

Piper gazed at the crazy assortment of cabins in the valley. Her new home, a family who supposedly understood her—but soon they’d be just another bunch of people she’d disappointed, just another place she’d been kicked out of. You’ll betray them for us, the voice had warned. Or you’ll lose everything.

She didn’t have a choice.

“Yeah,” she lied. “I’m ready.”

On the central green, a group of campers was playing basketball. They were incredible shots. Nothing bounced off the rim. Three-pointers went in automatically.

“Apollo’s cabin,” Annabeth explained. “Bunch of showoffs with missile weapons—arrows, basketballs.”

They walked past a central fire pit, where two guys were hacking at each other with swords.

“Real blades?” Piper noted. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“That’s sort of the point,” Annabeth said. “Uh, sorry. Bad pun. That’s my cabin over there. Number Six.” She nodded to a gray building with a carved owl over the door. Through the open doorway, Piper could see bookshelves, weapon displays, and one of those computerized SMART Boards they have in classrooms. Two girls were drawing a map that looked like a battle diagram.

“Speaking of blades,” Annabeth said, “come here.”

She led Piper around the side of the cabin, to a big metal shed that looked like it was meant for gardening tools. Annabeth unlocked it, and inside were not gardening tools, unless you wanted to make war on your tomato plants. The shed was lined with all sorts of weapons—from swords to spears to clubs like Coach Hedge’s.

“Every demigod needs a weapon,” Annabeth said. “Hephaestus makes the best, but we have a pretty good selection, too. Athena’s all about strategy—matching the right weapon to the right person. Let’s see …”

Piper didn’t feel much like shopping for deadly objects, but she knew Annabeth was trying to do something nice for her.

Annabeth handed her a massive sword, which Piper could hardly lift.