Daughter of Neptune, Book one

XXXVII

Piper's pov

Borrowing the helicopter was easy. Getting my dad on board was not.

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

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

I needed both Leo's and Jason's help to hold him, while Coach Hedge gathered our supplies, and Tori was taking care of some of her cuts and bruises. Fortunately Hedge had put his pants and shoes back on, so I didn't have to explain the goat legs.

It broke my heart to see my dad like this—pushed beyond the breaking point, crying like a little boy. I didn't know what the giant had done to him exactly, how the monsters had shattered his spirit, but I didn't think I could stand to find out.

"It'll be okay, Dad," I said, making my own voice as soothing as possible. I didn't want to charmspeak my own father, but it seemed the only way. "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 man blades. They had six arms..."

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

"Smoke inhalation," Jason suggested. "Or heat exhaustion."

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

"It's okay," I 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," I 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."

Jason raised his eyebrows at me, obviously impressed, but I felt miserable. I didn't want to twist people's minds, convince them of things they didn't believe. It felt so bossy, so —like something Drew would finback at camp, or Medea in her evil department store. And how would it help my father? I could convince him he would be okay, or that nothing had happened. His trauma was just too deep.

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

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

"It's me, Dad." It took all my willpower not cry. I had to be strong for him. "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 in me again, his eyes like broken glass, reflecting a crazy kind of light. "They said you were a demigod. Your mother was..."

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

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

My friends were careful not to watch. Leo fiddled with a lug nut from his tool belt. Jason gazed at the valley below—the roads backing up as mortals stopped their cars and gawked at the burning mountain. Tori had her eyes closed and head down, but I swear I saw Tori open her eyes just a little bit to look out Leo. Then she turned away as soon as he looked her way  Leo actually looked a little upset when she did that. Gleeson chewed on the stub of his carnation, and for once the satyr didn't look in the mood to yell or boast.

Tristan McLean wasn't supposed to be seen like this. He was a star. He was confident l, stylish, suave—always in control. That was the public image he projected. I had seen the image falter before. But this was different. Now it was broken, gone.

"I didn't know about Mom," I 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."

My dad couldn't stop shivering. "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.

He gazed down on the valley, and his grip on my hand went slack. "Your mother never told me."

"She thought it was for the best." It sounded lame, even to me, and no amount of charmspeak could change that. But I didn't tell my dad what Aphrodite had really worried about: If he had to spend the rest of his life with those memories, knowing that gods and spirits walk the earth, it will shatter him.

I felt inside the pocket of my jacket. The vial was still there, warm to my touch.

But how could I erase his memories? My dad finally knew who I was. He was proud of me, and for once I was his hero, not the other way around. He would never send me away now. We shared a secret.

How could I go back to the way things were?

I held his hand, speaking to him about small things—my time at the Wilderness School, my cabin at Camp Half-Blood. I told him how Coach Hedge ate carnations and got knocked on his butt in Mount Diablo, how Leo had tamed a dragon, how Jason had made wolves back down by talking in Latin, how Tori can control lightning using water. My friends smiled reluctantly as I recounted our adventures. My dad seemed to relax as I talked, but he didn't smile. I wasn't even sure he heard me.

As we passed over the hills into the Easy Bay, Jason and Tori tensed. They leaned so far out the doorway I was afraid they'd fall, well Jason leaned out, Tori wasn't as far out as Jason but it was far enough.

He pointed. "What is that?"

I looked down, but I didn't see anything interesting—just hills, woods, houses, little roads snaking through the canyons. A highway cut through a tunnel in the hills, connecting the East Bay with the inland towns.

"Where?" I asked.

"That road," Tori said. "The one that goes through the hills."

I picked up the com helmet the pilot had given my and relayed the question over the radio. The answer wasn't very exciting.

"She says it's Highway 24," I reported. "That's the Caldecott Tunnel. Why?"

Jason and Tori stared intently at the tunnel entrance, but they said nothing. It disappeared from view as we flew over downtown Oakland, but the two still stared into the distance, their expression almost as unsettled as my dad's.

"Monsters," my dad said, a tear tracing his cheek. "I live in a world of monsters,"