Page 75 of The Wild Zone

“Shane remembered my name,” he said.

A few feet away from us, Silena smirked. “You don’t have time for romance, huh?”

Harper marched toward her like he wanted to glue her mouth shut with rhinestones, but he was so distracted he tripped over a coil of climbing rope. Silena tried to catch him, but he pitched forward and cut his lip on a rock.

“Ow,” he groaned as he sat up, covering his bloody mouth. “So much for my time to shine.”

“It’s okay,” I said, as Silena and I helped him to his feet. “Shane didn’t see.”

I grimaced at the ugly new gash on Harper’s upper lip, dribbling blood that stained his teeth. “But he might notice that.”

“Oof,” said Silena. “Katie, could you help him to the infirmary?”

“Sure,” I said, draping Harper’s arm over my shoulders. “Let’s get you fixed up, hero.”

17

I Get Stolled

As we made our way to the Big House, I offered Harper a little of Olympia’s special lavender-ambrosia mask to rub on his lip, figuring the ambrosia might stop the bleeding. Instead, it just turned the wound a garish orange.

“Did it help?” Harper asked.

“Yeah, much better,” I lied.

Harper shook his head. “I’m such a loser.”

“Hey, Mr. Gorgeous and Popular, even demigods are allowed to have an off day every now and then.”

He frowned and then winced from the pain. “I haven’t even found out anything useful yet today. I tried charmspeaking a dryad, but the biggest secret she could tell me was that sometimes the satyrs have pizzas delivered to a hollow tree outside the south border of camp.”

“I mean, I suppose that’s good to know. Which do they prefer, Domino’s or Pizza Hut?”

“Please don’t make me smile,” Harper said. “It hurts too much.”

The Big House’s porch was still empty. So were the living room and the front office. Whatever Argus was doing to gather more information on the Wild Zone, he wasn’t doing it anywhere I could spy on him, which I found inconsiderate.

The infirmary took up the back half of the first floor. A row of beds, divided by curtains, faced a wide back porch, so you could lie under the gentle breeze of the ceiling fans and enjoy a beautiful view of Long Island Sound while you suffered from whatever ailed you.

Thankfully, there was only one patient in the ward. My old buddy Elam had somehow managed to sit on a prickly pear cactus and was now having spines removed from his backside. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. I just felt bad for young Will Solace, who was doing the extractions while the Apollo counselor Lee Fletcher supervised.

The only other Apollo kid on healing duty was our very own Wild Omada member, Zuri. She was pacing back and forth in front of the supply table like she was about to crawl out of her skin.

Then she saw Harper, and her eyes widened. She hurried over and took his other arm. “What happened to you?”

Before he could answer, I said, “A camper was trapped under a boulder, and Harper rescued her!”

Zuri snorted. “By lifting it with his lip?”

Harper rolled his eyes. “I twipped and fell on a wock.”

His injured lip had started to swell alarmingly, which I hoped wasn’t because of Olympia’s facial formula.

“Lie down,” Zuri ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

As I got Harper settled, Zuri headed to a storage cabinet and returned a moment later with an ice pack and something that looked like a juice pouch made from Celestial bronze foil.

“Put this on your lip for the swelling,” she said, handing Harper the ice pack. “And sip some nectar.” She poked a bronze straw into the juice pouch and tossed him that, too.