Daughter of Pluto | Wattys2017

XXXIX

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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 evacuations 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. Aimee sat off to the side,nursing what look like quite a deep cut in her side. Fortunately Hedge had put his pants and shoes back on, so I didn't have to explain the goat legs.Plus no one had to see his goat legs anymore.
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 voice as soothing as possible. She didn't want to charmspeak her 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 many 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," Aimee suggested getting in holding her side looking like she was in pain. "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 and Aimee gave her an impressed look, 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 wrong—like something Drew would do back at camp, or Medea in her evil department store. And how would it help my father? I couldn't 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. "It's 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 to 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 on 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.

Piper's 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. Aimee sat quietly looking out the window too,I noticed that she was writing in Latin on her arm with a pen from the pilot. 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, 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 her dad what Aphrodite had really worried about: If he has 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 her jacket. The vial was still there, warm to her touch.

But how could she erase his memories? My dad finally knew who she 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. They shared a secret.

How could she go back to the way things were?

Piper if he remembers everything,it will destroy his mind,a voice said in my mind.

My eyes widened,I looked over at Aimee and found her staring at me. She gave me a knowing look,then pulled out a vial from her own pocket.

You need to protect his mind,said Aimee. You need to give him the potion.

I held my dad's 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 on Mount Diablo, how Leo had tamed a dragon, and how Aimee had made wolves back down by talking in Latin. 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 they passed over the hills into the East Bay, Jason tensed. He leaned so far out the doorway I was afraid he'd fall.

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," Aimee said looking out the window too. "The one that goes through the hills."

I picked up the com helmet the pilot had given me 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 Aimee stared intently at the tunnel entrance, but they said nothing. It disappeared from view as they flew over downtown Oakland, but they still stared into the distance, their expressions almost as unsettled as my dad's.

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