The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan Read Free Book Online Page A

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.
    “No,” they both said at once.
    Annabeth rummaged a little farther in the shed and brought out something else.
    “A shotgun?” Piper asked.
    “Mossberg 500.” Annabeth checked the pump action like it was no big deal. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt humans. It’s modified to shoot Celestial bronze, so it only kills monsters.”
    “Um, I don’t think that’s my style,” Piper said.
    “Mmm, yeah,” Annabeth agreed. “Too flashy.”
    She put the shotgun back and started poking through a rack of crossbows when something in the corner of the shed caught Piper’s eye.
    “What is that?” she said. “A knife?”
    Annabeth dug it out and blew the dust off the scabbard. It looked like it hadn’t seen the light of day in centuries.
    “I don’t know, Piper.” Annabeth sounded uneasy. “I don’t think you want this one. Swords are usually better.”
    “You use a knife.” Piper pointed to the one strapped to Annabeth’s belt.
    “Yeah, but …” Annabeth shrugged. “Well, take a look if you want.”
    The sheath was worn black leather, bound in bronze. Nothing fancy, nothing flashy. The polished wood handle fit beautifully in Piper’s hand. When she unsheathed it, she found a triangular blade eighteen inches long—bronze gleaming like it had been polished yesterday. The edges were deadly sharp. Her reflection in the blade caught her by surprise. She looked older, more serious, not as scared as she felt.
    “It suits you,” Annabeth admitted. “That kind of blade is called a parazonium. It was mostly ceremonial, carried by high-ranking officers in the Greek armies. It showed you were a person of power and wealth, but in a fight, it could protect you just fine.”
    “I like it,” Piper said. “Why didn’t you think it was right?”
    Annabeth exhaled. “That blade has a long story. Most people would be afraid to claim it. Its first owner … well, things didn’t turn out too well for her. Her name was Helen.”
    Piper let that sink in. “Wait, you mean the Helen? Helen of Troy?”
    Annabeth nodded.
    Suddenly Piper felt like she should be handling the dagger with surgical gloves. “And it’s just sitting in your toolshed?”
    “We’re surrounded by Ancient Greek stuff,” Annabeth said. “This isn’t a museum. Weapons like that—they’re meant to be used. They’re our heritage as demigods. That was a wedding present from Menelaus, Helen’s first husband. She named the dagger Katoptris.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Mirror,” Annabeth said. “Looking glass. Probably because that’s the only thing Helen used it for. I don’t think it’s ever seen battle.”
    Piper looked at the blade again. For a moment, her own image stared up at her, but then the reflection changed. She saw flames, and a grotesque face like something carved from bedrock. She heard the same laughter as in her dream. She saw her dad in chains, tied to a post in front of a roaring bonfire.
    She dropped the blade.
    “Piper?” Annabeth shouted