BLOODSHOT . . . piper mclean

29.

BORROWING THE HELICOPTER was easy. Getting Kaleidoscope's dad on board was not.

Kaleidoscope needed only a few words through Fire Boy's improvised bullhorn to convince the pilot to land on the mountain. The Park Service copter was big enough for medical evacuations or search and rescue, and when Kaleidoscope  told the very nice ranger pilot lady that it would be a great idea to fly them to the Oakland Airport, she readily agreed.

"No," her dad muttered, as they picked him up off the ground. "Piper, what — there were monsters — there were monsters—"

They'd set Eden down as Kaleidoscope, Fire Boy, and Muscle Boy carried her father, while Coach Hedge gathered their supplies. Fortunately Hedge had put his pants and shoes back on, so no one had to explain the goat legs.

"It'll be okay, Dad," Kaleidoscope  said, soothingly. "These people are my friends. We're going to help you. You're safe now."

He blinked, and looked up at helicopter rotors. "Blades. They had a machine with so many blades. They had six arms . . ."

When they'd got him to the bay doors, the pilot came over to help. "What's wrong with him?" she asked.

"Smoke inhalation," Eden suggested, leaning heavily against the helicopter. "Or heat exhaustion."

"We should get him to a hospital," the pilot said.

"It's okay," Kaleidoscope  said. "The airport is good."

"Yeah, the airport is good," the pilot agreed immediately. Then she frowned, as if uncertain why she'd changed her mind. "Isn't he Tristan McLean, the movie star?"

"No," Kaleidoscope  said. "He only looks like him. Forget it."

"Yeah," the pilot said. "Only looks like him. I—" She blinked, confused. "I forgot what I was saying. Let's get going."

Eden was impressed. That was kind of hot.

Finally they got him on board, then Eden, and the helicopter took off. The pilot kept getting questions over her radio, asking her where she was going, but she ignored them. They veered away from the burning mountain and headed toward the Berkeley Hills.

"Piper." Her dad grasped her hand and held on like he was afraid he'd fall. "It's you? They told me — they told me you would die. They said . . . horrible things would happen."

"It's me, Dad." Kaleidoscope's voice shook slightly. "Everything's going to be okay."

"They were monsters," he said. "Real monsters. Earth spirits, right out of Grandpa Tom's stories — and the Earth Mother was angry with me. And the giant, Tsul'kälû, breathing fire—" He focused on Kaleidoscope  again, his eyes like broken glass, reflecting a crazy kind of light. "They said you were a demigod. Your mother was . . ."

"Aphrodite," Kaleidoscope  said. "Goddess of love."

"I — I—" He took a shaky breath, then seemed to forget how to exhale.

Eden tried not to watch. Fire Boy fiddled with a lug nut from his tool belt. Perfect Jason gazed at the valley below — the roads backing up as mortals stopped their cars and gawked at the burning mountain. Gleeson chewed on the stub of his carnation, and for once the satyr didn't look in the mood to yell or boast. Eden sat with Fire Boy and reapplied her makeup and rubbing mud off of her outfit. Despite his blatant disgust, he helped her.

"I didn't know about Mom," Kaleidoscope told him. "Not until you were taken. When we found out where you were, we came right away. My friends helped me. No one will hurt you again."

Her dad couldn't stop shivering. Eden could see it out of the corner of her eye. "You're heroes — you and your friends. I can't believe it. You're a real hero, not like me. Not playing a part. I'm so proud of you, Pipes." But the words were muttered listlessly, in a semi-trance.