The Lost Hero

Coach Hedge grumbled. ―Would help if we knew where this mountain was. Maybe Aeolus can tell you
that. The Bay Area has a bad reputation for demigods. Old home of the Titans, Mount Othrys, sits over Mount
Tam, where Atlas holds up the sky. I hope that‘s not the mountain you saw.‖
Piper tried to remember the vista in her dreams. ―I don‘t think so. This was inland.‖
Jason frowned at the fire, like he was trying to remember something.
―Bad reputation … that doesn‘t seem right. The Bay Area …‖
―You think you‘ve been there?‖ Piper asked.
―I …‖ He looked like he was almost on the edge of a breakthrough. Then the anguish came back into his
eyes. ―I don‘t know. Hedge, what happened to Mount Othrys?‖
Hedge took another bite of paper and burger. ―Well, Kronos built a new palace there last summer. Big
nasty place, was going to be the headquarters for his new kingdom and all. Weren‘t any battles there, though.
Kronos marched on Manhattan, tried to take Olympus. If I remember right, he left some other Titans in charge
of his palace, but after Kronos got defeated in Manhattan, the whole palace just crumbled on its own.‖
―No,‖ Jason said.
Everyone looked at him.
―What do you mean, ‗No‘?‖ Leo asked.
―That‘s not what happened. I—‖ He tensed, looking toward the cave entrance. ―Did you hear that?‖
For a second, nothing. Then Piper heard it: howls piercing the night.
“WOLVES,” PIPER SAID. “THEY SOUND CLOSE.”
Jason rose and summoned his sword. Leo and Coach Hedge got to their feet too. Piper tried, but black
spots danced before her eyes.
―Stay there,‖ Jason told her. ―We‘ll protect you.‖
She gritted her teeth. She hated feeling helpless. She didn‘t want anyone to protect her. First the stupid
ankle. Now stupid hypothermia. She wanted to be on her feet, with her dagger in her hand.
Then, just outside the firelight at the entrance of the cave, she saw a pair of red eyes glowing in dark.
Okay, she thought. Maybe a little protection is fine.
More wolves edged into the firelight—black beasts bigger than Great Danes, with ice and snow caked on
their fur. Their fangs gleamed, and their glowing red eyes looked disturbingly intelligent. The wolf in front was
almost as tall as a horse, his mouth stained as if he‘d just made a fresh kill.
Piper pulled her dagger out of its sheath.
Then Jason stepped forward and said something in Latin.
Piper didn‘t think a dead language would have much effect on wild animals, but the alpha wolf curled his
lip. The fur stood up along his spine. One of his lieutenants tried to advance, but the alpha wolf snapped at his
ear. Then all of the wolves backed into the dark.
―Dude, I gotta study Latin.‖ Leo‘s hammer shook in his hand. ―What‘d you say, Jason?‖
Hedge cursed. ―Whatever it was, it wasn‘t enough. Look.‖
The wolves were coming back, but the alpha wolf wasn‘t with them. They didn‘t attack. They waited—at
least a dozen now, in a rough semicircle just outside the firelight, blocking the cave exit.
The coach hefted his club. ―Here‘s the plan. I‘ll kill them all, and you guys escape.‖
―Coach, they‘ll rip you apart,‖ Piper said.
―Nah, I‘m good.‖
Then Piper saw the silhouette of a man coming through the storm, wading through the wolf pack.
―Stick together,‖ Jason said. ―They respect a pack. And Hedge, no crazy stuff. We‘re not leaving you or
anyone else behind.‖
Piper got a lump in her throat. She was the weak link in their ―pack‖ right now. No doubt the wolves could
smell her fear. She might as well be wearing a sign that said free lunch.
The wolves parted, and the man stepped into the firelight. His hair was greasy and ragged, the color of
fireplace soot, topped with a crown of what looked like finger bones. His robes were tattered fur—wolf, rabbit,
raccoon, deer, and several others Piper couldn‘t identify. The furs didn‘t look cured, and from the smell, they
weren‘t very fresh. His frame was lithe and muscular, like a distance runner‘s. But the most horrible thing was
his face. His thin pale skin was pulled tight over his skull. His teeth were sharpened like fangs. His eyes glowed
bright red like his wolves‘—and they fixed on Jason with absolute hatred.
“Ecce,” he said, “filli Romani.”