Chapter 16 Harper Eats a Rock
Harper Eats a Rock
With the disappearance of another person, you’d think a dark cloud would be hanging over the dining pavilion at breakfast. But nope. Everything was rainbows and sunshine.
It helped that Argus played down Silas’s absence during his morning announcements.
He reminded everyone that the satyr had just gotten his searcher’s license.
Then, when one of the campers asked if maybe Silas had simply left early on his epic hunt for Pan, Argus didn’t deny the possibility.
Everyone seemed anxious to believe it. Like Argus had said, they apparently needed the illusion—er, positive attitude—that camp was safe.
They cheered for Silas and then stuffed their faces with bagels and breakfast burritos.
Well, except for the satyrs and dryads, who stood uneasily around the edges of the pavilion, and the four kids of the Wild Omada.
At the Apollo table, Zuri wrote feverishly in a notebook.
Occasionally, one of her cabinmates would lean in to see what she was writing, and she’d lean away to hide it.
Maybe she was still struggling to write better lyrics for her cabin’s musical.
Or maybe she was brainstorming battle plans for our next expedition into the woods.
From what I could tell, Zuri’s poetry writing face and her preparing for combat face were pretty much the same.
At the Hermes table, Benny ignored his rambunctious cabinmates—who were playing a game of ring toss with donuts and forks—and kept his focus on the head table, where Argus was in conversation with his satyr assistants.
I wasn’t sure if Benny could read lips, or if he just had excellent hearing, but he seemed to be following their conversation from halfway across the patio.
All the while, Benny sipped daintily from the tiniest coffee cup I’d ever seen.
I knew we could fill our cups with whatever we wanted, but I’d never seen anyone change the cup, too.
And at the Aphrodite table, Harper was obsessing over something different.
While he pretended to eat, his gaze was fixed on one end of the Hephaestus table—I’m pretty sure where Shane sat.
Maybe Harper thought he was being all sly about ogling his crush, but he was the world’s worst pretend-eater.
He’d scoop up a forkful of egg, open his mouth, and deliver the food to one of his cheeks.
Then all the egg would tumble off, and Harper would pretend to chew before going back for more.
Somehow I doubted Harper would be much help today gathering information about the secrets of the Wild Zone.
At my own table, Elam said, “Hey, Clarisse! Does the new curfew really apply to us?”
That had been another one of the morning’s announcements.
Although Silas was presumed to be happily on his satyr’s journey and everything was just fine at camp, Argus had decreed that all activities in the woods would be suspended until further notice, “just to be safe.” He’d also instituted a sunset curfew, which was two hours earlier than normal. The news had not gone over well.
Clarisse shrugged. “You know Argus. He’ll probably change his mind in a couple of days.
Until then, we keep a low profile.” She glanced past Elam, met my gaze, and gave the subtlest shake of her head, like she was afraid I was going to jump up from the table, scream We’re all going to die!
and then run straight into the Wild Zone.
As soon as Clarisse dismissed us from breakfast, I headed back to the Big House. I wasn’t really in the mood for another lesson in pantheon politics, but I figured the Big House was the best place to eavesdrop for any updates in the search for Grant and Silas.
Approaching the porch steps, I half expected to see Hestia again, sitting at her puzzle and waiting to give me cryptic advice about my failures in life. But the porch was empty.
I was kind of disappointed.
During Mr. Pindar’s lesson, Never Gamble with a God, I sat by the open window of our third-floor classroom, hoping to keep an eye on the search parties’ comings and goings, but the only people who climbed the steps to the Big House were a couple of injured sword-fighters headed to the infirmary.
Meanwhile, Mr. Pindar held forth, punctuating his stories with dramatic riffs on his bongos.
“If a god offers you a deal that sounds too good to be true, it usually is,” he said.
“They will uphold their end, but never in the way you think. And they will try to keep you from fulfilling your end so that they win by default.”
Cue the ominous bongo finger roll.
“But we’re their family,” one of the Athena kids argued. The comment reminded me of Benny, which made me smile.
“Ah, perhaps”—Mr. Pindar smiled, too, rapping a POP, POP on his drums—“your own parental deity might go easy on you, but not another god. Especially if they don’t get along with your parent.”
Revenge as a motive…I wondered if that had something to do with Grant’s disappearance.
I leaned forward. “For example, who doesn’t get along with Ares?”
Everyone in the room laughed, including Mr. Pindar.
“Who does get along with Ares?” someone else asked.
I sighed and leaned back. They had a point. Anyone could have a reason to come after his kids.
I left Pantheon Politics early (I figured getting laughed at was a decent excuse), grabbed my scythe from the cabin, and headed for the arts-and-crafts building.
Not to destroy papier-maché busts of the gods or anything, but because Beckendorf had said a new scythe would take weeks to forge.
I wasn’t sure I had that kind of time. My backup plan was sketchy, but I figured maybe I could give my existing scythe a glow-up.
Arts and crafts was full of Aphrodite’s kids, including Harper.
They were all decorating hand mirrors and preening in them.
In between gluing rhinestones to the frames and checking their teeth, they laughed and talked—except Harper, who was doing his best to actively ignore the others while he worked.
“Come on, Harper,” one of his siblings said. “You should totally ask Shane out.”
“You’re clearly into him,” someone else commented. “We saw how you were fawning over him at breakfast. You couldn’t even find your mouth with your fork.”
The others giggled, but Harper just frowned. The mirror he was working on was bling-free, though he’d painted the frame with delicate green leaves veined in silver. It was obvious he had artistic talent.
“Nothing’s ever going to happen with Shane,” he said.
A blond girl with her hair plaited in a dozen braids smirked at him. “Oh, please. We can have whoever we want!”
Harper gave her a withering look. “I don’t want to charmspeak anyone into being with me, Olympia. I want them to like me for me.” He scowled at his mirror frame. “Unfortunately, me is awkward.”
Olympia let out an airy laugh. “You mean I, sweetie. I is awkward.” She frowned. “I are awkward?”
When she blinked, I saw that she’d glued rhinestones to her eyelids. It was an interesting fashion choice. I guess when Aphrodite kids got bored, they thought up new ways to bedazzle themselves.
Silena seemed to notice this at the same time.
She snatched the glue and rhinestones away from Olympia and then looked at Harper.
“You’re right, of course. Love is all about consent.
But I’m pretty sure Shane does like you for you, Harper.
And the more you talk to him, the less awkward you’ll feel around him. ”
He smiled tightly at her. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don’t have time for romance.” He glanced up and finally seemed to notice me standing in the doorway. “I’m too busy helping my friend Katie!” He beckoned me over. “Katie, thank the gods. How can we help? Join us, please.”
All the Aphrodite kids sized me up, which made me feel even more self-conscious. They all looked like supermodels with their flawless hair and makeup—except Olympia, who was struggling to open her right eye. She’d apparently gone a little too thick with the glue.
I stood a little straighter. “Uh…hi. So I hear Aphrodite’s kids are good at charms and glamours and illusions.” I held up my scythe. “I was hoping you could show me how to make this look like Celestial bronze?”
Silena cocked her head. “You want us to make your weapon look fancier?”
I blushed. “I guess I just want to look good on the battlefield.”
The Aphrodite kids let loose a collective Awwww, like this was the cutest thing they’d ever heard.
Harper sucked in his breath. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” I asked.
Then every other Aphrodite kid was in motion. They fluttered around me, examining my clothes, tugging at my hair, checking my pores….
I thoroughly regretted my choice of words.
“We’ll start with a skin-tightening charcoal mask.”
“We want our enemies to be scared of our power, not our eyebrows.”
“I’m thinking French braid!”
“Ooh, if we’re doing a charcoal mask, we might as well do sooty eyeshadow!”
An ear-piercing whistle halted all conversation.
Everyone stepped away from me. I thought maybe Silena had called them off, but she and Harper were still sitting in their places, wearing matching looks of amusement.
I pleaded silently for help, but Silena shrugged and smiled apologetically as if to say You did ask for this.
Then Olympia stepped forward. The crowd parted for her like she was the ultimate authority on…Oh, gods. Surely the girl with the rhinestone eyelids wasn’t the cabin’s expert on makeovers?
She looked me up and down, both of her eyes now wide open. From a Gucci bag slung across her body, she pulled a small jar.
“Lavender-and-ambrosia mask for perpetual healing during a fight,” she pronounced, handing me the jar. “The bushy eyebrows stay—they block debris from the eye.”
I glanced upward. “I mean, they’re not that bushy.”