Text copyright © 2015 by Rick Riordan Cover art by Antonio...

Textcopyright©2015byRickRiordanCoverartbyAntonioCapraro

Allrightsreserved.PublishedbyDisney•HyperionBooks,animprintofDisneyBookGroup.Nopartofthis

bookmaybereproducedortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,electronicormechanical,includingphotocopying,

recording,orbyanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,withoutwrittenpermissionfromthepublisher.ForinformationaddressDisney•HyperionBooks,125WestEnd

Avenue,NewYork,NewYork10023.

ISBN978-1-4847-5737-6

Visitwww.DisneyBooks.com

http://www.DisneyBooks.com

Coliloquy,LLCwww.coliloquy.com

http://www.coliloquy.com

Contents

TitlePage

Copyright

Welcome

MyTwo-HeadedGuidanceCounselor

TheLibraryofDeadlyWeapons

MyDemonSatyrTeaParty

MyPersonalZombieApocalypse

AbouttheAuthor

Yourquestbeginsnow!

UseyourdemigodskillstohelpZaneCarverinhisbattletosurvive.Thechoicesyoumakewillimpactthestoryateveryturn.Asheispittedagainstzombies,ghosts,anddemons,you’llhelpZanenavigatethroughthisadventureandlearnwhohisgodlyparentis.

Besuretoreadtheprompts.

Theyindicatethatyouhaveadecisiontomake.

Andremember,yourselectionswillhaveconsequences.Choosewisely….

MyTwo-HeadedGuidanceCounselor

Ugh.Notagain.“Popquiz!”Mr.Scheer,

ourEnglishteacher,grinnedlikethiswasfantasticnews.“Allbooksandnotebooksaway!Takeoutapenor

pencil.Let’sseewhatyourememberfromourGreekmythologyunit!”

WecalledMr.Scheer“theProfessor”becauseheusedtoteachcollege.Healsousedtobeahippie,buttheonlyremainingevidenceofhiswilderdayswerehistoo-longbrownhairandtheacousticguitarhealwayskeptnearby,justincaseafolksongcouldilluminatesometeachingconcept.

Assoonasthequizwasdistributed,IflippedstraighttotheendfortheonethingIknewIcouldanswer:theextracreditquestion.Papersrustledasotherstudentsdidthesame.Althoughhewasalittleintensewithhisexpectations,theProfessorwasn’tentirelyheartless.Healwayslobbedusaneasybonusquestion.Thistimeitwas:

MyfavoriteGreekgodis

_____.JustasImademy

selection,theintercomcrackled.“Mr.Scheer?It’sMs.Lanefromthefrontoffice.”

Allthestudentslookedup.Acrosstheaisle,mybestfriendSamshotmeanervousglance.Amessagefromthefrontofficealmostalwaysmeantthatsomebodywasintrouble,andoftenthatsomebodywasme.

Pleasenotthistime,Ithought.Foronce,notme.

“Goodmorning,Ms.Lane,”saidMr.Scheer.“Whowouldtheprincipalliketoseetoday?”

“Youknowwho,”Ms.Lanesing-songed.

Myfaceflushedasoooooh’scirculatedaroundtheroom.

I’malwaysgettinginto

trouble,usuallyovercrazystuff.Takelastweek.Mybiologyclasswentonabehind-the-scenestouratthelocalaquarium,andwhilemyfriendsandIwereontheroof,checkingouttheseaottertanks,thisseventeen-year-oldseaotternamedLolatookonelookatmeandtorpedoedupandoutofthewater.

Fortherecord,seaottersareNOTallfuzzyand

friendly.Marilyn,theaquariumlady,hadjustfinishedtellingusabouttheirsharplittleteeth,soitwasn’tlikeanyofuswasgoingtotrytocatchLola.Iwasafraidshemightattackme,butinsteadshealmostseemedafraidofme.Shehoppedandfloppedherwayovertothenexttank—whichhappenedtohouseakelpforestandabunchofsharks—andSPLOOSH,disappeared

straightinside.Theentireclasscircled

theperimeterofthekelpforestwhileadiversuiteduptofetchLola.

“Don’tworry,”saidMarilyn,soundingprettyworried.“Thesharkswerejustfedthismorning,soLolashouldbeokay.Ithink.”

IdecidedtotrustMarilyn,becauseshelookedlikealibrarianwithherpulled-backhairandblackeyeglasses,

whichwereattachedtooneofthosecordthingiessoshewouldneverlosethem.

Wewereshepherdedbacktoschoolrightaway,butthankfullyweheardlaterthatLolahadbeenrecoveredsafely.TheotterhadcalmeddownassoonasIleftandsheallowedthediverstoreturnhertoherotter-mates.Nobodyblamedmefortheincident,butIknewthetruth.Somethingaboutmehad

freakedoutthatottersomuchthatshefeltsaferinatankfullofsharks.

That’sjustoneexample,butifI’mentirelyhonestwithyou,I’veexperiencedweirdincidentslikethatmywholelife.Somethinginexplicablehappens,andthenIjustseemtomakeitworsebydoingtheexactwrongthing.WhenIwasinkindergarten,myfirst

reportcardssaidthingslike“accident-prone”and“alwaysseemstofindtrouble,”butovertime,thetimbreshiftedtomoreaccusatory,asifeverythingwasmyfault.TeachersusuallysayI’mtoosmartformyowngood.

Anyway,asImademywaytowardtheprincipal’soffice,IwonderedwhatIhaddonethistime.Thecorridorsweresurprisinglyquiet.Iranmyhandalongtheorange

lockers,thenreacheddowntothekeychainhangingoutofmyfrontpocket.Itwasanold,heavysilvercoinwithagigantictreeetchedononeside,andafaceengravedontheother.ThefacewaswornawaysobadlyIcouldn’teventellifitwassupposedtobeamanorawoman.Myfolkshadgivenmethecoinformytwelfthbirthday.Irememberbeingprettyunderwhelmed(IwantedaniPad),butthey

madeabigdealoutofitbeingafamilyheirloomthatwassupposedtobringmegoodluck,soIletmydaddrillaholeinitandstickitonmykeyring.NowIdidn’tfeelwholewithoutthefamiliarweightinmypocket.

Attheendofthehallway,Isuddenlystopped.Thelockersherewereadifferentcolor…darkredinsteadoforange.Whenhadthathappened?Ilookedbackthe

wayI’dcome.Theentirerowwasnowthecolorofblood.Iwassurethey’dbeenorangeamomentbefore.

Ashiverwentdownmyspine.Imusthavebeenmistaken.

AsIwasponderingthat,Icaughtaflashofmovementoutofthecornerofmyeye:somethingfastandyellow—likesomesortofanimal—streakingacrosstheoppositeendofthehallway.Bythe

timeItriedtofocusonit—cuethescarymusic—ithadvanished.

“Hello?”Icalledout.“Isanyonethere?”

Noresponse.Astrangesmellhungin

theair—metallicandfaintlyacrid,likesomeonehadleftopenajarofpickles.

Myimaginationmustbeactingup,Ifigured.OrmaybeI’dhadtoomuchpizzaatlunch.Thatcafeteria

foodcoulddefinitelycausehallucinations.Slightlyspooked,IhurriedtoPrincipalMoore’sofficeandpushedmywaythroughtheglassdoors,whereMs.Lanewaswaitingforme.

Asfarasschoolstaffwent,Ms.Lanewasprettycool.Shealwaysworebrightredlipstickandbiggoldhoopearrings,eventhoughshewassixtyyearsold.Herbig,warmlaughandmassive

smilealwaysputkidsatease.Sheactuallyseemedtocareaboutwhatwasgoingoninourlives.

“Thereyouare!”shesaidtome.“Whattookyousolong?”Shegavemeaslysmile.“Didyourunintosomeonespecialonthewayhere?”

“Ms.Lane!”Iprotested.“Honey,ifIcangiveyou

onepieceofadviceondating,here’swhatIlearnedthehard

way:Marrythefirsttimeformoney,andthesecondtimeforlove.Butdon’ttellyourparentsIsaidthat.”

Ishuffledmysneakersonthegraycarpet.“Uh,thanksfortheadvice.”Ididn’twanttoberude,butI’veneverreallyhadmuchinterestindating.

TheintercombuzzedonMs.Lane’sdesk.“Hasourguestarrived?”askedanunfamiliarfemalevoice.

“Yes,Ms.Roche,”saidMs.Lane.“Wewerejustchatting.”

“Great,I’llberightout,”thevoicereplied.

“Ms.Roche?”Iasked.“IthoughtPrincipalMoorewantedtoseeme.Who’sMs.Roche?”

Ms.Laneswiveledherchairtofaceme.“Oh,she’sfillinginasguidancecounselorsinceMr.Zinckisoutsick.Don’tworry,she’sa

peach.You’llchatwithMs.RochefirstandPrincipalMoorewilljoinyouwhenhe’savailable.”

Great,aguidancecounselorANDtheprincipal.HowmuchtroublewasIin,exactly?Icouldn’tignorethefeelinginthepitofmystomachthatIwasabouttofaceafiringsquad.

AndwhatkindofnamewasMs.Roche?Ipicturedawomanwithsixlegs,brown

insectwings,andlong,creepyantennas.

Instead,ayoung,prettyladysashayedintotheroom.Herblondhairshimmeredinthelight,whichwasodd,sincethedimfluorescentsintheofficeusuallymadeeveryonelookgrayandill.“Hithere!I’mMs.Roche!”

Iwascaughtalittleoff-guard.“Uh,hi…”

“Followme.We’llbeusingMr.Zinck’soffice.”

Theguidanceofficelookedthesameasalways:acrystalcandybowlonthedesk,amountedantelopeheadagainstthefarwall,andtherequisitefireextinguisherinthecorner.

“Pleasesitdown.”Ms.Roche’stonewascalmandwarm.“Soyou’reprobablywonderingwhywecalledyoudown.WenoticedyouwereinvolvedinanincidentonMonday…”

Ohman,theweirdnessinthecafeteria.Ihadtotallyforgottenaboutthat.

“Right,”Isaid.“Look,Idon’tknowhowthattrayofenchiladasexploded.Iwasjuststandingthere—”

“It’sfine,”sheassuredme.“PrincipalMooresimplywantedmetofindoutwhathappened.ButsinceI’mnewhere,Ithoughtwecouldstartoffwithsomegeneralquestions,gettoknoweach

otherabit.Okay?”Sheseemedsoniceand

understanding,myshouldersbegantorelax.“Yeah,soundsgoodtome.”

“Great.Firstquestion.”Shepickedupherpenandopenedaredfolderonherdesk.“What’syourfavoriteclass?”

“Math.”“Interesting,”saidMs.

Roche.Sheraisedhereyebrow,andsomething

aboutherexpressionsuddenlydidn’tseemsofriendly…morelikeeager.ForreasonsIcouldn’tquiteunderstand,Istartedthinkingaboutthoseblood-redlockersinthehallway,thatstrangeacridsmell,andtheflashofmovementI’dseenoutofthecornerofmyeye.

“Um,”Isaidnervously,“soyounormallyworkatanotherschoolinthedistrict?”

Iwashopingtomakethis‘gettingtoknowyou’thingmoreofatwo-waystreet,butMs.Rochejustsmiled.

“Let’sconcentrateonyou,shallwe?Nextquestion.Ingeneral,wouldyoudescribeyourselfashappyordiscontented?”

“Well,Ireallythinkitdependsontheday.”

Ms.Rochesmirked,likeshe’dbeenexpectingthatanswer.“Nextquestion—”

“Um,canIaskyousomethingfirst?”

“No,”sherepliedbreezily.“Sonextquestion:Anyphobias?”

Ifrowned.Thiswasdefinitelygettingweird.I’dtakenthoseWhatColorIsYourParachute?quizzesbefore,butthisoneseemedstrangeevenforaguidancecounselortoadminister.

“Um,ratstotallyfreakmeout.Wehadtheminourwalls

whenIwasakid,andIusedtostayupallnightlisteningtothem.”

Ms.Rochenoddedsagely.“Perfect.Nowlet’stalkaboutMonday’sincidentinthecafeteria.We’veheardfrommultiplepeoplethatyouwerethepersonsittingclosesttothescene.Canyoutellmewhathappened?”

Istartedtappingmyfeet,thewayIalwaysdowhenIgetnervous.Iwasn’tquite

surewhy,butIwantedtogetoutofthisoffice.“Well,Iwasjusteatingmylunch.IheardacommotionandsawCarterMcKeown—he’sthismeanred-headedguy—stealingKevinSmall’slunch.”

“Uhhuh,”repliedMs.Roche,scribblingdownsomenotes.“Whathappenednext?”

“Well,IusedtoridethebuswithCarterinelementary

school,soIthoughtmaybeIcouldtalkhimdownbeforethingsescalated.Iwasjustgettingup,butbeforeIcoulddoanything…Idon’tknowwhathappened.Thelunchtrayjust,like,exploded.Cartergotsteamingenchiladainhiseyesandalloverhisface,andhejusttookoffscreaming.PeoplethoughtI’ddonesomethingtomakethathappen.ButIdidn’t.Honest.”

“Hmm.”Ms.Roche

flippedtoanotherpageintheredfolder.Shepursedherlipsinconcern.“Butthat’snotthefirstoddincidentinyourfile,isit?Accordingtothis,youprank-calledthepolicelastweekaboutanearthquake?”

“Itwasn’taprank!”Icrossedmyarms.“Iwasinthechemistrylabbymyself.IwascleaningupbecauseIgotintroublefor…well,thatdoesn’tmatter.Thepointis,Ifeltatremor.Iswear—the

beakerswereshaking,theBunsenburnerswereflaringup…Ithoughttheroofwasgoingtocavein!Itriedtoopenthedoor,butitgotlockedsomehow.Iyelledforhelp,butIguessnoonecouldhearme,so…”

Ms.Rochefrowned.“Theincidentreportsaysthatnooneelsefeltanything.”

“Thequakewasreal,”Iinsisted.“Ididn’tknowwhatelsetodo,soIgrabbedLexi’s

phoneanddialed9-1-1.”Ms.Roche’seyes

gleamedwithastrangelight.“Lexiisafriendofyours?Whydidyoumakethecallfromyourfriend’sphoneandnotyourown?”

“I—Idon’thaveaphone.Myfolks…theywon’tletmehaveone.Anyway,LexiaccidentallylefthercellphoneatmyhousethedaybeforeandIstillhadit,soIusedit,because…”Ifaltered.

Ireallydidn’tlikethewayMs.Rochewasstaringatme,likeshewasenjoyingmydiscomfort.“WhydoyoucareifIhaveacellphone?”Iasked.“Andwhatdoesithavetodowiththecafeteriaincident?”

“Oh,italltiestogether,mydear.Yourlackofaphoneexplainsagreatdeal—suchaswhywedidn’tdetectyourpresencesooner.”

Mymouthwentdry.

“Detect…mypresence?”Thesecondhandonthe

wallclockticked.Istartedfingeringmyluckycoinagain.Thedetailsoftheofficecameintosharperfocus.OnthetablebehindMs.Rochewasastackofredfoldersliketheoneshewasusingformynotes.ThefolderontopofminehadanintricategoldsealandthewordCONFIDENTIALstampedacrossit.

“Wh-whatdoesaredfoldermean?”Istammered.“AndwhydoIhaveone?”

“Oh,mydear…”Ms.Rocherose.“Becauseyou’reveryspecial.”

Forthefirsttime,IrealizedthatherhairwasthesamecolorasthatflashofmovementI’dseeninthehallway—butthatcouldn’thavebeenMs.Roche.Nohumancouldhavemovedthatfast,andthatthinginthehall

hadseemed…morelikeawildanimalsomehow.

Mypulsebegantorace.“Iwanttoseetheprincipalnow.IwassupposedtoseeMr.Moore.”

Ms.Roche’slaughterwasdeepandthroaty.“I’mafraidthatisn’tpossible.Mr.Moorewasinmyway,justlikeMr.Zinck.Theywouldhaveinterferedwithourconversation,soItookcareofthem.”

“Tookcareof…”Myheartclimbedupmythroat.“Youdon’tmean…Youcouldn’thave—”

Ms.Rocheexhaled,andachillinglyfamiliarmetallicscentwaftedthroughtheroom.Herfingernailsgrew,transformingintoclaws.

“Whatthe—”Iboltedforthedoor,butMs.Rochewasfast.Shesprangacrosstheofficeinablurofyellowandblockedmypath.

“Leavingsosoon?”Ms.Rochegrowled.“We’rejustgettingdowntobusiness.”

Thenthemostinsanethinghappened.Herjawopenedwide.Herheadpeeledbacklikeahoodieandoutofhermouthgrewanewhead:afelinesnout,blacklipsandwhitefangs,andlarge,hungrygoldeyes.Heryellowdresschangedintosleekfur.Ms.Rochebecameafullyformedlioness,standing

uprightonherhaunches,readytotearmetopieceswiththosegleamingclaws.

“I’msogladyouusedyourfriend’scellphone,”shepurred.Hervoicewastheonlythingthathadn’tchanged.“Otherwisewemightnothavefoundyouintime.”

Itriedtoscreamforhelp.Myvoicewouldn’twork.Besides,thiscreaturehadalreadygottenridofthe

principalandthecounselor.IfniceoldMs.Lanecamerunningin,tryingtohelpme,I’donlygetherkilled.Ibackedup,nearlyfallingovermychair.

“Wewho?”Isqueaked.“Intimeforwhat?”

“Nomatter.”Hertailflickedbackandforth.Thecrazedlookinhereyesmademykneesturntojelly.“I’llmakethiseasyforyou.Yourdeathwillbequick.”

Shebaredherfangs.Iclenchedmylefthand,

suddenlyawareIwasgrippingmyluckycoin.Whyhadn’tmyparentsgivenmeapocketknife?Oramini-canisteroflionspray?Canyouevenbuylionspray?Ordoyoujustbuybearsprayandhopeforthebest?

MythoughtswereinterruptedasMs.Rochelungedatme,clawsextendedandfangsexposed.Ishouted,

instinctivelydroppingtothegroundandrollingtomyright.

Myleftfist,stillclenchedtightly,suddenlyfeltlikeitwasgrippinghotlava.Iopenedmyhandtodropthecoin,butliquidmetalspilledoutinstead.

Ms.Rochesawitandscrambledbackagainstthefarwall.“No!”shesaid.“How…?”

Webothwatchedasthe

liquidmetalatethroughthefloor,thenthroughtheconcretebelow,andthenthroughthedirt.Iheardaloudrumbling,andMs.Rochehowledasanoaktreeeruptedthroughthefloor.Itsbranchesliftedherup,wrappedthemselvesaroundherwaist,andtoreatherastheywrithedandgrew.Ms.Rocheseemedtodisintegrateintosmokeanddust,andthenthetreebrokethroughthe

ceiling,stillrising,reachingforthesun.

Thefirealarmandsprinklersystemswentoff,dousingmewithcoldwater.

Aloudthudmademejumpoutofmyskin.Iturnedastheofficedoorsplinteredandblastedinwardlikeithadbeenhitwithabatteringram.Standinginthedoorwaywasmybestfriend,Sam,hiseyeswidewithalarm,hiscurlyblondhairdisheveled.His

backpackwasslungoveroneshoulder.Butsomethingabouthisappearancewaswrong.Hisjeans…hewaswearingfurjeans.No.Wait.Thoseweren’tjeans.Theywereactualfur.Andhisfeet…hisfeetwerehooves.

Iwantedtocurlintoaballandhideundertheshatteredcounselor’sdesk.Iwantedtosobandlaughatthesametime.Obviously,Iwaslosingmymind.Noneofthiscould

behappening.“Thankthegodsyou’re

safe!”Samshoutedoverthesoundofthefirealarms.“Wehavetoleavenow!”

“Wh-what—how—?”Ipointedfeeblyathisclovenhooves.

Samrolledhiseyes.“Notimetotalk!Moremonsterswillbecoming.Justgrabyourfileandfollowme!”

Myfile.Ispottedtheredfoldernestlednicelyinoneof

thetreebranches.Withthesprinklersgoing,itwouldsoonberuined.

You’reveryspecial,Ms.Rochehadsaid.Whatwasinthatfile?Whyhadthatlion/counselor/monsterladybeensointentonkillingme?

Isnatchedupthefolder.Samleapedthroughtheholeintheofficewallandrantowardthewoods,whereheandIhadspentsomanysummershidingoutand

playingwhenwewerekids.CouldItrustSam?How

couldInot?Evenifhehadsuddenlygrownfurrylegsandhooves,hewasmybestfriend.Besides,Ididn’tseemuchchoice.Withmyluck,Iwouldprobablygetblamedfordestroyingtheofficeanddisintegratingtheguidancecounselor…AndIcouldn’tforgetwhatSamhadsaid:Moremonsterswillbecoming.

Ijumpedthroughthebrokenwallandfollowedhim.

Bythetimewereachedourfavoriteclearinginthewoods,Iwasgaspingforbreath.Firealarmsandemergencyvehiclesirenshowledbehindusinthedistance.Iwasstilldrippingwetfromthesprinklers,andmylegswereshakingfromtheadrenalinerush.

Iwipedmyeyes.Ihoped

Samwouldlooknormalagain,butnope.Hewasstillrockingthegoatfurandthehooves.

“SamGreenwood,”Isaid.“Whyareyouasheep?”

Hemadethatbleatingsoundlikehealwaysdidwhenhewasannoyed.“I’mhalf-goat.Nothalf-sheep.I’masatyr.Butthat’snotimportantrightnow.”

“Notimportant?Howismybestfriendturningintoa

livestockanimalnotimportant?”

“Look,you’reindanger.IwasafraidthismighthappenwhenyoutoldmeyouhadusedLexi’scellphone.”

“Whyiseveryonesoobsessedaboutmeusingastupidcellphone?”

“Becausewhenademigodusesone,thesignalattractsmonsters,”Samsaid,likethiswasobviousinformation.“Whenyouwere

summonedtotheoffice,Ishould’verealizedthey’dzeroedinonyou.”

“Demigod,”Isaid,myheadspinning.“Monster.I-Idon’t—”

“Iknowit’salottotakein,”hesaid.“Butwehavetogetyousomeplacesafe.Thatfileyou’recarryingmayhavesomeanswers.We’llstudyitlater.”

“We’llstudyitnow,”Iinsisted.

Iopenedtheredfolder.Someoftheinkhadbled,makingpartsofthereporthardtoread.IsuspectedImighthavelostsomepageswhilerunningfromtheschooltothewoods,butthefirstpagewasclearenough.Ithadagrainysurveillance-stylephotoofmeaboveabunchofpersonalinformation:homeaddress,birthdate,familydetails.

Iflippedtothenextpage

andsawanofficial-lookingformwithZaneCarveratthetop,andthefollowingwords:

DEMIGODSTATUS:CONFIRMED

AsIlookedatthepage,Itriedtosteadymybreathing.“Sam,whatdoesthisallmean?Whatisgoingon?How—”

Fromsomewhereinthewoods,anangryhowlpierced

theair—likealargepredatorcatonthehunt.

“There’snotime,Zane,”Samsaidurgently.“Iknowyouhavealotofquestions,butwe’renotsafehere!Comeon!”

TheLibraryofDeadlyWeapons

“Sam,”Iwheezed.“Ihavetostop.”

Afterrunningthroughthewoodsforoveramile,wewerenearingtheBrokenForkRiver,awhitewaterrapidabouteightfeetacross.

Sofar,nocrazylionladieshadattackedus,butifIkeptrunningIwouldn’thavetoworryaboutthat,becauseIwoulddieofaheartattack.

Samhadalwaysbeenfasterthanme,butnowthathehadgoathooves,hewasevenmorenimbleintheforest.

Goathooves.Istillcouldn’tbelieveit.I

wantedtothinkthattheincidentbackatschoolhad

beenacrazypizza-inducedhallucination,butno…mybestfriendwascloppingaroundrightinfrontofme,sheddingtuftsofgoatfurandtwitchinghislittletail.

Didhehavehorns?Oh,man.Maybethat’swhyhekepthishairsolongandshaggy.Hecouldtotallyhidegoathornsunderthatblondthicketofhis.

“We’llrestasecond,”Samsaid,scanningthewoods

behindus.“Butonlyasecond.We’renot—”

“We’renotsafe,”Isaid.“Yeah.Igotthatthefirsttwelvetimesyoutoldme.ButIwantexplanations.Howareyouagoatman?”

“Satyr.”“Whatever!WhywasMs.

Rocheamonster?Whatisademigod?Andwhatdoesithavetodowithme?”

Samraisedhishandsinsurrender.“I’lltrytogiveyou

thequickversion.Youknowallthatstuffwe’vebeenlearninginMr.Scheer’sclass—theGreekmyths,gods,monsters?It’salltrue.”

Mythroatfeltlikeitwasfullofcotton.“Whenyousaytrue…”

“Imeanthegodsarestillaround,Zane,”Samsaid.“Themythsarereal.Thosestoriesabouthowthegodsminglewithhumansandoccasionallyhavekids—”

“—whoarehalf-god,half-human.LikeHercules.”

Samfrowned.“Yeah,well,Herculesisn’tmypersonalfavorite,butthat’sthegeneralidea.Demigodsexistinthemodernworld,too.Sodomonsters.CreatureslikeMs.Roche…they’realwayslookingfordemigods,hopingtokillthembeforetheygetoldenoughandstrongenoughtobeathreat.Satyrslikeme…our

jobistoprotectdemigods.Wegetclosetotheyoungheroes,letthemenjoyanormallifeforaslongaspossible,then,whenthemonstersfinallyclosein,wegetthedemigodsoutofdanger.”

“Wait…”IfeltlikeIwasbeingcoveredinheavysap;ifIletSam’swordssettleoverme,ifItriedtobelievethem,Iwouldbetrappedforeverlikeabuginamber.“Soyou

wantmetobelievethatoneofmyparentsisa…Ican’tevensayit.Agod?Mydadcanbarelythrowabaseball,letaloneaspear.Mymomdrivesaminivan.TheyeatatOliveGarden.They’reinabowlingleague.They’rethetwomostun-godlikepeopleever.”

“Well…”Samshifteduncomfortably.“I’mreallynotthepersonwhoshouldbetellingyouthis…butyou

knowhowsometimesonebirdlaysanegginanotherbird’snestandthen…or,wait.No.Didyouevermaybehearabouthowwhenthere’sakidwhoeveryonetotallyloves,buttheyaren’tquitesurewho…no,wait…”

“Holdon.”IfeltslightlydizzyasSam’smeaningbecameclear.“AreyousayingI’madopted?”

“Definitelybyoneofthem.Maybeboth…Idon’t

reallyknow.ButIdoknowthattheybothknowwhatyouare.They’retheoneswhorequestedasatyrwhenyouwerelittle,andthey’vebeenmodelparents.Iactuallythinktheyshouldwriteahandbook:WhattoExpectWhenYou’reExpectingaDemigod…”

“Sam,thisisridiculous!”Hejuststaredatme,

allowingtimeforthetruthtosinkin.

Thesadthingwas,Ididn’treallyfinditridiculous.Mywholelifehadbeenoneweirdincidentafteranother.Justthismorning,myprincipalandguidancecounselorhadbeendisposedofbyatalkinglionesswhoenjoyedpersonalityquizzes.Mybestfriendturnedouttobeasatyr.Givenallthat,mebeingademigodwasn’tsohardtobelieve.

AndI’dalwaysknown

therewassomethingstrangeaboutmypast.MyfolksgotnervouswheneverIaskedquestionsaboutwhenIwasababy.Therewerenopicturesofmebeforetheageoftwo.

ButifIreallywasademigod…whatdidthatmean?Andwhowasmygodlyparent?

IshookitoffandlookedatSam.“Sothatbusinessattheaquariumwiththeotter,andtheexplodingtrayof

enchiladas,andtheearthquakeinthechemistrylab—”

“Yes,”Samsaid.“It’sallbecauseofwhoyouare.Demigodsarealwayssurroundedbystrangeevents.Youmorethanmost.”

“Whymemorethanmost?”

Samglancednervouslyovermyshoulder.“Idon’tknow.Honestly,foryearsI’vebeenwatchingyou,

tryingtofigureoutwhoyourgodlyparentis—”

“Youmakemesoundlikeascienceexperiment.”Thewordstastedbitterinmymouth.“Ithoughtyouweremyfriend.”

“Iam!Iwouldn’thavestuckaroundifIwasn’tyourfriend!ButI’malsoyourprotector.Thegodshavesomesortofplanforyou.I’msureofthat.Andwhilewefigureoutwhatitis,it’smy

jobtokeepyoualive.”Mybrainspunlikea

gyroscope.Onemorecrazyfact,andmyheadwouldflyapartfromcentrifugalforce.“So…wheredowegonow?Myhouse?Yourhouse?”

“No,”Samsaid.“Themonsterswouldfindyou.Iknowafewgatheringplacesfordemigods.NormallyIcouldtakeyoutooneofthose,butnoneofthemisclose,andrightnow,they’re

notreallysafe.Gaeaisrising.Themonstersaretakingover—”

“Wait,what’srising?”“It’stoocomplicatedto

explain.”Samwrunghishands.“Look,there’sasafehouseintown.Theoldlibrary—”

“That’sbeenclosedforyears.”

“Yeah,butmonstershatetheplace.I’vestoredsomesuppliestherefor

emergencies.Ifwecangetinside,wecanatleastgetyouaweaponandmaybesomeadvicefromthegods.”

Ididn’tseehowwe’dgetgodlyadviceatanabandonedlibrary.

Theproblemwas,Ididn’thaveanybetterplan.

Anotherhowlsoundedinthedistance.

Samflinched.“That’stheotherleonte.”

“Leonte?Youmeanalion

monster,likeMs.Roche?”“Theyalwayshuntin

pairs.”Hetookadeepbreath.“Okay.We’rejustacrossfromtheoldmill.SoIseethreeoptionsforreachingthelibrary.Wecanstayinthewoodsuntilwegettotown,butwe’llhavetofindawayovertheriver.Orwecantrytogetacrosstheoldmasonbridge.Orweheadtothemainroadandtrytocatcharide.Eachwayshouldgetus

tothelibrary,buthonestlyIdon’tknowwhichonewillbethesafest.”Ms.Roche’slionbuddyhowledagain,closer,andSamlookedatme.“Youhavetopickone,andfast.”

“Youwantmetopick?”Iaskedincredulously.“Yeah,thatseemslikeagreatidea,Sam.Let’shavetheguywhojusthadhisentirelifeturnedupsidedownfigureouthowtoavoidgettingeatenbyagiantlion.”

“Zane,ifIknewthebestway,believeme,Iwouldsayso.ButIdon’t.Sosomeonehastodecide,andlikeitornot,life-or-deathdecisionsarewhatyouwereborntodo.Satyrs?Notsomuch.Butheroes…?”

“Heroes…”Iechoed.“Youhavetolearnhowto

makesmartdecisions.Andrightnowseemslikeasgoodofatimeasanytostart.”

“Ireallydon’tthink…”

“Trustyourgut.Whatfeelsright?”

Ithoughtaboutthefastmovingrapids,thentriedtorememberthebridge.Itwasreallyjustafewwoodenslatssupportedbyaloosewiretruss.I’msureitusedtohaveguideropes,buttheyhadlongagorottedaway.Iturnedandlookedtowardthehighway,abrokenstretchofasphaltabout100yardsaway.

“Well?”saidSam.“We

gottatryoneofthem.Whatdoyouthink?”

Selectachoice:

WOODS

BRIDGE

ROAD

WARNING!You’reabouttospoilagreatstorybynotmakingachoice!Pageback,thenclickoneofthelinkstoadvancethestory.Otherwise,thenextsectionmaynotmakeanysensetoyou.

“Thewoods,”IblurtedoutbeforeIcouldthinktoomuch.

Samnodded.“Areyousure?”

“AmI…?Wereyounotlisteningtomeatall?NO!OfcourseI’mnotsure.Youtoldmetotrustmygut,andmygutsaysitwantstogetawayfromgrumpycat.Fast.”

Samexhaled,clearly

relieved.“Good.Ilikethewoods.”

Togetherwesprintedthroughthetreesuntilwereachedtheedgeoftheriver.Iwashavingsecondthoughtsaswestaredatthefrothingwater,theswirlingeddies,thesharp-edgedrocks…untilaloudgrowlbroughtmebacktomynewreality.

Samshuddered.“Givemeyourfolder.Justincase.”

Ihadn’teventhought

abouttheredfoldergettingruined.IhandedittoSam,whopulledaZiplocbagoutofhisbackpack.Hewrappedupthefolderandstuffeditinhisbag.

“WhydoyoualwayscarryZiplocs?”Iasked.

“Theymakegreatsnacks.”

Ihopedhewaskidding.Thenagain,Ihadnoideawhatsatyrsconsideredtastyjunkfood.

Itookafewstepsbackandinhaleddeeply.

Anotherroar,thistimemuchcloser.

“Go!”saidSam,andIsprintedfortheriver.WhenIreacheditsbank,Iplantedmyfootinthesoftmudandtookawildleap.IknewimmediatelythatI’dmisjudgedthedistance,andIflailedmyarmsasIcrashedneartheoppositebank.

Ilandedhardinthe

shallowwater,asmallboulderhigh-fivingmychestandsmashingthewindoutofme.ImoanedasIclungtotheslipperyrockandtriedtocatchmybreath,thehowlsoftheleontegrowingcloser.

Twohooveslandedwithathumprightinfrontofmyface,andIlookeduptoseeSamthere,staringdownatmewithaconcernedlook.“Notsurethiswasthebestdecision,”hesaid,reaching

downandyankingmetomyfeet.Iwinced,ignoringthepainshootingthroughmylimbs.“We’restuckwithit,though,socomeon.”

Hetookoffrunningthroughthewoods,andIdidmybesttofollow.Mykneeachedfromthefall,andIwassuremychestwasbruised.Fiveminutes…thenten.Howfarwasthisplace?

Samhadtokeepstoppingtowaitforme.“Ithinkthe

leonterandownstream,”hesaid,anxiouslylookingbehindme.“Probablylookingforabetterplacetocross.That’llbuyusalittlemoretime,butwereally,reallyhavetohurry.”

Toowindedtospeak,InoddedandgulpedasmuchairasIcould.Sweatpoureddownmyfaceandmythighsscreamedinprotest.TwiceIfellandhadtobehauledtomyfeetbymysatyr

protector.Iwascontemplating

whetherdeathbylionwouldbemoreorlesspainfulthanaheartattackwhenweburstintoaclearingbehindtheoldpubliclibrary.

“Yes!”saidSam.“Let’sgetinside!”

Thetownlibraryhadbeenshutdownseveralyearsago—somethingaboutstate

fundingcuts.Withitsredbrickfacade,whitecolumns,andclocktower,thelibraryhadalwaysbeenthenicestbuildingonMainStreet.Nowthatitwasclosed,itfeltlikethetown’shearthadstoppedbeating.

Thewindowsweredark.Themainentrancewasboardedup.Taggershadspray-paintedneongraffitiacrossthefrontsteps.

“Howdowegetin?”I

asked.“Aroundtheside.”Sam

ledmetoastormcellarentrancehalf-hiddeninthebushes.Abigpadlockhungfromthelatch,butSamproducedakeyfromhisbackpackandopenedthelock.

“You’refullofsurprises,”Inoticed.

Samshrugged.“It’snothingfancyinside,butatleastthegoddessmight

protectus.”“There’sagoddess…?”Samnoddedand

descendedintothecellar.Ididn’tfeelsosureaboutfollowinghimintothedark,butIalsodidn’twanttowaitaroundfortheleontetocatchup.Iclimbeddownthestepsandclosedthedoorbehindus.

That’swhenIheardit…therustleoflittlefeetscurryingacrossthefloor.

Andsqueaking.Lotsofsqueaking.

“S-Sam?What’sthat?”Iwhispered,tryingtokeepmyvoicefromshaking.

Sampausedtolistenbeforetakinghisnextstepdown.“Oh,I’msureit’sjust—”

“Rats,”Iblurted,ashudderrunningthroughmybody.“Oh,no.Ican’tgodownthere,Sam.Ican’t.”

“Oh,”saidSam.“That’s

right.”Hepulledaflashlightfromhisbackpack,wincingasthebeamsweptacrossrowsofmolderingcardboardboxes,stacksoffoldingchairs…andamoving,furryfloor.Therewereratseverywhere—hundredsofthem.Mychestclenchedup,andIfeltlikethewallswereclosingin.Iturnedandstartedbackupthestairs,butSamgrabbedmeandshookhishead.“Theleonte,”he

whispered.“ButyouknowhowIfeel

aboutrats,”Isaid.“You’regoingtohaveto

getoverit,”saidSam.“There’sreallynootherchoice.”

Itookadeepbreath.Thebasementsmelledofmildewandrustandwetfur(thoughIguessedthatlastsmellcouldbefromSam).Hepannedtheflashlightoverthewrithing,squeakingfloor,landingthe

beamonasmallsetofstairsdirectlyoppositeus.“There,”hesaid.“Thosestairsleadtothemainreadingroom.Ifwecanmakeitacross,we’llbesafe.”

“Buthow?”Isaid.“Theremustbeamillionofthem!”

“Maybeyoucangetonmyshoulders?”saidSamdoubtfully.

“Andriskyoudroppingmeinthemiddleoftheratocean?Fatchance.”

“Well,doyouhaveanyotherideas?”askedSam,shiningthelightaroundtheroom.

SomethingbrushedagainstmylegandIjumpedstraightupintheair,tryingnottoscream.Thiswasliterallymyworstnightmarecometrue.

“There’renootheroptions?”Iasked,angrythatmyvoicesoundedsoweakandfrightened.

“Um,”saidSam.“Notreally,no.”

Inodded,gladthedarknesswashidingmyface.“Thisherothingistheworst.”

Iheardhimlaugh,thenpause.“It’llprobablygetworse.”

“Itcan’tgetworse.Thisistheworst.Theworstthingever.Inthewholewideworld.That’severhappened.Ever.”

Hewasquietforasecond.“Butifyoucangetthroughthis,youcanprobablygetthroughanything,right?Inthewholewideworld?Ever?”

“Doyouenjoybeingannoying?”Iasked.ThenIsighed,knowinghewasright.IhadtostartfacingmyfearsifIwantedtobeahero.“Whatdowedo?”

“Theywon’thurtus,”hesaid.“Juststaycalmand

moveslowly.Slideyourfeetalongthefloor,andtheywon’tevenknowyou’rethere.”

Itriedtopreventmyselffromhyperventilatingagain,andtoslowmyracingheartbeat.Getittogether,Zane,Ithought.Inodded,thenrealizedSamcouldn’tseeme.“Okay,”Imanaged.“Let’sdoit.”

“I’mrighthereifanythinghappens,”saidSam.

“Ipromiseit’llbeokay.”“Idon’twannatalkabout

itanymore.Let’sjustdoit.”“Okay,”saidSam.“I’ll

pointthelightatthestairs.Justfocusonthose,notthefloor.Holdontomybackpack,”hesaid,pullingittightoverbothshoulders.

Ibitmylipandgrabbedhisbag,tryingnottothinkaboutallthosesharplittleclawsandweirdnakedtailsandbeadyeyes.

“Onthree,okay?”saidSam,andIwassuddenlyoverwhelmedwithgratitudethatIhadafriendlikehim,someonewhocouldliterallygetmetoovercomemyworstfears.Focusonthat,Ithought.Focusonthegood.

“One…”saidSam,andIclosedmyeyes,suckinginadeepbreath.“Two…Three.”

WebothexhaledasSamslowlysteppedforward,slidinghisfeetalongthefloor

underneaththesquirmingmasses.Ifollowed,strugglingtoholdontohisbag,nearlytrippingdownthestairs.Asmysecondfootreachedthefloor,Isqueezedmyeyeseventighterandfocusedonmatchingmybreathtotheshufflingofourfeet.IN.Slideright,slideleft.OUT.Slideright,slideleft.IN.Justslidingalong.OUT.Nothingcreepygoingon.

Then…beforeIknewit,

Sam’sbackpackliftedaswesteppedontotheoppositestaircase.

Heturnedtome.“Youdidit!”heexclaimed.Ashehuggedme,theflashlightcastweirdshadowsacrossthewalls.

BloodpumpedinmyearsandIcouldbarelyhearthesqueakinganymore.Ididdoit.Maybetherewassomethingheroicinsideofmeafterall.

Iclearedmythroat,hopingmyvoicewouldcomeoutstrong.“Thanks,”Isaid.“Let’sgetupstairs.”

Sampointedthelightupatadoor,thenbowedandextendedhisarm.“Afteryou,”hesaid.“Youearnedit.”

MykneeswereweakasIclimbedintothelibrary’smainreadingroom.Ihadn’tbeentheresinceIwasalittlekid.Stacksofbooksmarched

offinalldirections.Afewbookshelveshadbeenoverturned.Somebooksformedpilesinthecornerslikesnowdrifts.Othersweretornandstrewnaround,smashedbymuddyfootprints.Judgingfromthepilesofwrappersandcans,andthearticlesofoldclothingstrewnacrossthefurniture,weweren’ttheonlyoneswhohaddiscoveredawayin.Onthemarblefloor

neartheexitweretheremnantsofanoldcampfire.

Ihadmixedfeelingsaboutthisplace,butwhateveryouthoughtoflibraries,therewasnodenyingthatthisonewassad.Nobodyhadevenbotheredtosellorgiveawaythebooks.Thebuildinghadjustbeenabandoned.Eventhetransientsorlocalteenagerswho’dbrokeninovertheyearsdidn’tcareenoughtobotherwiththe

books—excepttousethemastinderforfires.

Inthecenteroftheroom,undertheornatedomedceiling,aten-foot-tallstatuestoodonahighpedestal.

Thefigureworeflowingrobes.Sheheldanopenbookinonehandlikeshewasabouttoreciteapoem.Herfacewasbeautifulbutstern.Herdarkhairfellinringletsaroundherface.

I’msureI’dseenthe

statuebefore,butI’dneverpaiditmuchattention.NowIrealizedwhatitwas.

“AGreekgoddess?”Iasked.

Samnodded.“Thegoddessofmemoryandlanguage:Mnemosyne.”

HepronounceditlikeNemoSign,thoughasfarasIcouldtell,thegoddesshadnothingtodowithcartoonfish.

“Neverheardofher,”I

admitted.“She’snotoneofthebiggods,Iguess.”

Samclearedhisthroat.“Iwouldn’tsaythingslikethat.”

“It’sonlyastatue.”“It’sastatueofagoddess,

andthegodsarereal.She’soneoftheearlyTitandeities,oneofthegoodTitans.She’sthemotheroftheNineMuseswhooverseeallthearts:music,poetry,dancing,andwhatnot.Anyway,librariesareMnemosyne’ssacred

place.Herspiritisstronghere.Sheprotectsthisplace.”

Ilookedaroundattheruinedfurnitureandpilesoftrash.“She’sdoingagreatjob.”

“Seriously,bemorerespectful.”Samglancedatthegoddess’sface.“Herpresencewillkeepthemonstersatbay.Atleast…itshould.We’llgetoursuppliestogether,resthereforthenight,andfigureoutournext

move.”“Ournextmove…”My

heartsank.“Soevenifwedefeatthisotherlionthat’sfollowingus—”

“Therewillalwaysbemoremonsters,”Samsaidgrimly.“Nowthatthey’velocatedyou,they’llneverstoptryingtokillyou.You’reademigod.Yourlife…well,fromhereonout,it’llbehard.ButI’llbewithyou.You’renotalone.”

IappreciatedSamsayingthat,butIwasstartingtoprocessthefactthatIcouldn’tgohome.Nottonight.Maybenotever.Mylifehadfundamentallychanged.Iwouldneverbeabletogobacktoanythingresemblingnormal.

Samapproachedthebaseofthestatue.Hepushedthebronzeplaqueinscribedwiththegoddess’sname.Thepedestalhissed,andthefront

partswungopenlikearefrigeratordoor.

InsidewasalockeralmostastallasIwas.Ispottedtwohikingpackswithbedrollsandwaterbottles.Andhangingonthebackwallofthecabinetwasasheathedswordwithabluegemglowingfaintlyonthepommel.

BeforeIcouldsayanything,aglasswindowshatteredbehindme.Alion

evenbiggerthanMs.Rochecrashedthroughandlandedonlytenfeetaway.

“Thereyouare.”Thelion’svoicewasdefinitelymale.Hissnarlingfacewaswreathedinashaggygoldenmane.Hisfullyextendedclawsgleamedwhite.Heroseonhishaunches,whichonlymadehimlookscarier.“Youdestroyedmysister,”hesnarled.“NowIwilldestroyyou.”

Mylungsdeflatedlikeoldheliumballoons.“Your—yoursister?YoumeanyouandMs.Roche—”

“Weareleontes!”thelionbellowed.“ThechildrenofAtalanta!Wealwayshuntinpairs.Normally,thefemalehasthehonorofthekill,butsinceyousentherbacktoTartarus—”

“Wait.”IwashopingifIboughtusalittletime,Samcouldgetusoutofthis

somehow.Maybeoneofthepacksinthecabinetcontainedafewhandgrenadesorpossiblyabazooka.“Um,Mr.Lion…sorry,butIalwaysliketoknowwho’skillingme.Yousaidyou’reachildofwho?”

“Atalanta!”hecried.“ThemostfamousGreekheroine!Aglorioushunter.Thefastestofrunners.SheandourfatherHippomeneswerecursedbythatridiculouslovegoddess

Aphroditesimplybecausetheyforgottomakeafewsacrificesduringtheirweddingceremony.Aphroditechangedthemintolions!Eversince,wetheirdescendantshaveprowledtheworld,lookingforrevenge.Sincewecannotdestroythegods,wedestroytheirchildren!”

Iwasoutofmagicaltree-growinggoldcoins,soIglancedatSam,hopinghe

hadfoundabazooka.Sadly,hewasfrozeninterror.Hemayhavebeenmyself-proclaimedprotector,butatthemomenthewasaboutashelpfulasthestatueofNemoSign.

“Well,Mr.Lion…”MyvoicesoundedassqueakyasMickeyMouse.“Icantellyou’reupset.But,uh,Idon’tevenknowthegods.Ididn’tknowIwasademigoduntillikeanhourago—”

“Good!”snarledthelion.“Iwilldestroyyoubeforeyoulearnyourpowers!”

Ilookedaroundfrantically.ShouldIgoforthesword?Ortrytooutwitthelion?

Theliontensedtopounce.

Selectachoice:

SWORD

OUTWIT

“Thebridge,”Isaid.“MaybeIcanfigureoutawaytogetusacross.”

“Yousure?”askedSam,wrinklinghisnose.

“AmI…?Wereyounotlisteningtomeatall?NO!OfcourseI’mnotsure.Youtoldmetotrustmygut,andmygutsaysitdoesn’twanttotryjumpingthoserapids.Comeon.”

Togetherwesprintedthroughthetreesuntilwereachedtheoldbridge.Iknelttotakeacloserlook,doingmybesttoignorethehowlsoftheleonte.

“Thesupportsarefine,”Isaid,tuggingonthewiretruss,andkickingtheconcreteblockwhereitconnectedtotheshore.“Theproblemisthosewoodenslats.They’reprettyrotten.Idon’tthinkthey’llsupport

ourweight.”“Um,okay,”saidSam,

lookingaroundnervously.“Youcanfixit?Like,fast?”

Iscannedthearea,relievedtoseeseveralsuitablebranches.“Yeah,bringmeasmanyofthosebranchesasyoucan—thethickerthebetter.”

SamandIdraggedthebranchesovertothebridge.Ilinedthemupsotheendswerefacingeachriverbank,

thenslidthemoutovertherottingslats.“We’llusethesetodistributeourweight.Itshouldkeepthewoodfrombreaking.”

“Should?”“Yeah…should.I’llgo

first.”Iputacautiousfootontothelayerofbranches,feelingforanygive.Everythingseemedokay,soIpulledmyleftfootontothebridge,keepingitasfaraspossiblebehindmyright.I

lookedatSam,smiled,andscootedbothmyfeetandthebranchesforward,keepingmyweightspreadout.Iinchedalong,thenhoppedeasilyontotheoppositebank.

Samhadalreadylaidoutanewsetofbranchesonthefarside.“Comeon,”Isaid.

Justthen,thefoliagebehindhimrustledandtheleonteleaptout.

Samyelpedandtrottedontotheancientbridge,

holdinghisarmsouttothesidesforbalance.Butwheremysneakersgrippedthewood,hishoovesslippedandslid.Igatheredafewlargerbranchesfrommyside,tryingtomakeiteasierforhim.

Hetookafewmorestepsandfrozeatthesoundofcrackingwood.“WhatdoIdo?”hesaid,eyeswide.

“Stepaslightlyaspossible,”Isaid,“andwalktowardme.”

I’dneverseenhimsofrightened.“Ican’tdoit.”

“Youcandoit,Sam.RememberthetimeIfelloffParker’sroofandyoucarriedmeallthewayhome?”

Samnoddedslightly,butotherwiseremainedfrozen.

“Youkeptsaying‘Onemorestep,onemorestep,’remember?”Samnoddedagain.“Dothesamething,okay?Onemorestep.”

Samtookastepforward.

Theleonteroared.“Onemorestep,”Isaid.Hetookanotherstep.

Thenanother.“Almostthere!”Isaid.

“Onemorestep!”Andthenhewasacross,

collapsingtheatricallybesideme.

Beforewecouldcelebrate,theleonteputanenormouspawontothebridge,testingit.

“Comeon,”Isaid.“Help

me!”Ileanedforwardandstartedmadlybrushingthebranchesoffthebridgeandintotherapidsbelow.

Sampickedupafewrocksandthrewthemattheleonte,causingthemonstertopausemomentarilybeforebellowingwithrageandthencontinuinghiswayacross.

I’dneverbeabletoknocktherestofthebranchesoffintime.Iscannedthearea,spottingafewrocksthesize

ofbowlingballs.“Biggerones!”Ishouted.“Throwbiggerrocks!”

Ipickedoneupandhefteditontothebridge.Theoldplankscreakedundertheaddedweight,andtheleontestopped,suddenlylookinguncertain.

“Yeah!”shoutedSam,aswebothhurledmorebouldersontothefragilewood.

Theleonteroaredwithfrustration,thentookanother

step.Asitshifteditsweightontoaplank,thewoodsnappedinhalf.Theleonte’spawshotthroughthegapandthenitswholebodyfellontotherottingbridge,shatteringnearlyeveryplank.

Theleontehowledasitfellintotherushingrapids,andIcouldn’thelpbutsmileasitwaswhiskeddownstream,itscriesgrowingfainterbythesecond.

“Youdidit!”saidSam.

“Wedidit,”Isaid,smiling.

“Fairenough,”saidSam.“Nowlet’sgo.Thatriverwon’tdistracthimforlong.”

Weturnedandsprintedthroughthewoods,leapingoverfallentreesandavoidingbrambles.

Afterabouttenminutes,SamandIburstintoaclearingbehindtheoldpubliclibrary.

“Yes!”saidSam.“Let’s

getinside!”

Thetownlibraryhadbeenshutdownseveralyearsago—somethingaboutstatefundingcuts.Withitsredbrickfacade,whitecolumns,andclocktower,thelibraryhadalwaysbeenthenicestbuildingonMainStreet.Nowthatitwasclosed,itfeltlikethetown’shearthadstoppedbeating.


“Howdowegetin?”Iasked.

“Aroundtheside.”Samledmetoastormcellarentrancehalf-hiddeninthebushes.Abigpadlockhungfromthelatch,butSamproducedakeyfromhisbackpackandopenedthe

lock.“You’refullofsurprises,”

Inoticed.Samshrugged.“It’s

nothingfancyinside,butatleastthegoddessmightprotectus.”

“There’sagoddess…?”Samnoddedand

descendedintothecellar.Ididn’tfeelsosureaboutfollowinghimintothedark,butIalsodidn’twanttowaitaroundfortheleontetocatch

up.Iclimbeddownthestepsandclosedthedoorbehindus.

That’swhenIheardit…therustleoflittlefeetscurryingacrossthefloor.Andsqueaking.Lotsofsqueaking.


Sampausedtolistenbeforetakinghisnextstepdown.“Oh,I’msureit’sjust

—”“Rats,”Iblurted,a

shudderrunningthroughmybody.“Oh,no.Ican’tgodownthere,Sam.Ican’t.”

“Oh,”saidSam.“That’sright.”Hepulledaflashlightfromhisbackpack,wincingasthebeamsweptacrossrowsofmolderingcardboardboxes,stacksoffoldingchairs…andamoving,furryfloor.Therewereratseverywhere—hundredsof

them.Mychestclenchedup,andIfeltlikethewallswereclosingin.Iturnedandstartedbackupthestairs,butSamgrabbedmeandshookhishead.“Theleonte,”hewhispered.

“ButyouknowhowIfeelaboutrats,”Isaid.

“You’regoingtohavetogetoverit,”saidSam.“There’sreallynootherchoice.”

Itookadeepbreath.The

basementsmelledofmildewandrustandwetfur(thoughIguessedthatlastsmellcouldbefromSam).Hepannedtheflashlightoverthewrithing,squeakingfloor,landingthebeamonasmallsetofstairsdirectlyoppositeus.“There,”hesaid.“Thosestairsleadtothemainreadingroom.Ifwecanmakeitacross,we’llbesafe.”





SomethingbrushedagainstmylegandIjumpedstraightupintheair,tryingnottoscream.Thiswas

literallymyworstnightmarecometrue.




Iheardhimlaugh,thenpause.“It’llprobablyget

worse.”“Itcan’tgetworse.This

istheworst.Theworstthingever.Inthewholewideworld.That’severhappened.Ever.”


“Doyouenjoybeingannoying?”Iasked.ThenI

sighed,knowinghewasright.IhadtostartfacingmyfearsifIwantedtobeahero.“Whatdowedo?”

“Theywon’thurtus,”hesaid.“Juststaycalmandmoveslowly.Slideyourfeetalongthefloor,andtheywon’tevenknowyou’rethere.”

Itriedtopreventmyselffromhyperventilatingagain,andtoslowmyracingheartbeat.Getittogether,

Zane,Ithought.Inodded,thenrealizedSamcouldn’tseeme.“Okay,”Imanaged.“Let’sdoit.”

“I’mrighthereifanythinghappens,”saidSam.“Ipromiseit’llbeokay.”

“Idon’twannatalkaboutitanymore.Let’sjustdoit.”

“Okay,”saidSam.“I’llpointthelightatthestairs.Justfocusonthose,notthefloor.Holdontomybackpack,”hesaid,pullingit

tightoverbothshoulders.Ibitmylipandgrabbed

hisbag,tryingnottothinkaboutallthosesharplittleclawsandweirdnakedtailsandbeadyeyes.



WebothexhaledasSamslowlysteppedforward,slidinghisfeetalongthefloorunderneaththesquirmingmasses.Ifollowed,strugglingtoholdontohisbag,nearlytrippingdownthestairs.Asmysecondfootreachedthefloor,Isqueezedmyeyeseventighterandfocusedonmatchingmybreathtothe

shufflingofourfeet.IN.Slideright,slideleft.OUT.Slideright,slideleft.IN.Justslidingalong.OUT.Nothingcreepygoingon.

Then…beforeIknewit,Sam’sbackpackliftedaswesteppedontotheoppositestaircase.




Sampointedthelightupatadoor,thenbowedandextendedhisarm.“Afteryou,”hesaid.“Youearned

it.”MykneeswereweakasI

climbedintothelibrary’smainreadingroom.Ihadn’tbeentheresinceIwasalittlekid.Stacksofbooksmarchedoffinalldirections.Afewbookshelveshadbeenoverturned.Somebooksformedpilesinthecornerslikesnowdrifts.Othersweretornandstrewnaround,smashedbymuddyfootprints.Judgingfromthe

pilesofwrappersandcans,andthearticlesofoldclothingstrewnacrossthefurniture,weweren’ttheonlyoneswhohaddiscoveredawayin.Onthemarblefloorneartheexitweretheremnantsofanoldcampfire.

Ihadmixedfeelingsaboutthisplace,butwhateveryouthoughtoflibraries,therewasnodenyingthatthisonewassad.Nobodyhadevenbotheredtosellorgiveaway

thebooks.Thebuildinghadjustbeenabandoned.Eventhetransientsorlocalteenagerswho’dbrokeninovertheyearsdidn’tcareenoughtobotherwiththebooks—excepttousethemastinderforfires.


Thefigureworeflowingrobes.Sheheldanopenbook

inonehandlikeshewasabouttoreciteapoem.Herfacewasbeautifulbutstern.Herdarkhairfellinringletsaroundherface.

I’msureI’dseenthestatuebefore,butI’dneverpaiditmuchattention.NowIrealizedwhatitwas.




“Neverheardofher,”Iadmitted.“She’snotoneofthebiggods,Iguess.”



andthegodsarereal.She’soneoftheearlyTitandeities,

oneofthegoodTitans.She’sthemotheroftheNineMuseswhooverseeallthearts:music,poetry,dancing,andwhatnot.Anyway,librariesareMnemosyne’ssacredplace.Herspiritisstronghere.Sheprotectsthisplace.”


“Seriously,bemorerespectful.”Samglancedat

thegoddess’sface.“Herpresencewillkeepthemonstersatbay.Atleast…itshould.We’llgetoursuppliestogether,resthereforthenight,andfigureoutournextmove.”

“Ournextmove…”Myheartsank.“Soevenifwedefeatthisotherlionthat’sfollowingus—”

“Therewillalwaysbemoremonsters,”Samsaidgrimly.“Nowthatthey’ve

locatedyou,they’llneverstoptryingtokillyou.You’reademigod.Yourlife…well,fromhereonout,it’llbehard.ButI’llbewithyou.You’renotalone.”

IappreciatedSamsayingthat,butIwasstartingtoprocessthefactthatIcouldn’tgohome.Nottonight.Maybenotever.Mylifehadfundamentallychanged.Iwouldneverbeabletogobacktoanything

resemblingnormal.Samapproachedthebase

ofthestatue.Hepushedthebronzeplaqueinscribedwiththegoddess’sname.Thepedestalhissed,andthefrontpartswungopenlikearefrigeratordoor.

InsidewasalockeralmostastallasIwas.Ispottedtwohikingpackswithbedrollsandwaterbottles.Andhangingonthebackwallofthecabinetwasasheathed

swordwithabluegemglowingfaintlyonthepommel.

BeforeIcouldsayanything,aglasswindowshatteredbehindme.AlionevenbiggerthanMs.Rochecrashedthroughandlandedonlytenfeetaway.

“Thereyouare.”Thelion’svoicewasdefinitelymale.Hissnarlingfacewaswreathedinashaggygoldenmane.Hisfullyextended

clawsgleamedwhite.Heroseonhishaunches,whichonlymadehimlookscarier.“Youdestroyedmysister,”hesnarled.“NowIwilldestroyyou.”


“Weareleontes!”thelionbellowed.“ThechildrenofAtalanta!Wealwayshuntinpairs.Normally,thefemale

hasthehonorofthekill,butsinceyousentherbacktoTartarus—”

“Wait.”IwashopingifIboughtusalittletime,Samcouldgetusoutofthissomehow.Maybeoneofthepacksinthecabinetcontainedafewhandgrenadesorpossiblyabazooka.“Um,Mr.Lion…sorry,butIalwaysliketoknowwho’skillingme.Yousaidyou’reachildofwho?”

“Atalanta!”hecried.“ThemostfamousGreekheroine!Aglorioushunter.Thefastestofrunners.SheandourfatherHippomeneswerecursedbythatridiculouslovegoddessAphroditesimplybecausetheyforgottomakeafewsacrificesduringtheirweddingceremony.Aphroditechangedthemintolions!Eversince,wetheirdescendantshaveprowledtheworld,lookingforrevenge.

Sincewecannotdestroythegods,wedestroytheirchildren!”

Iwasoutofmagicaltree-growinggoldcoins,soIglancedatSam,hopinghehadfoundabazooka.Sadly,hewasfrozeninterror.Hemayhavebeenmyself-proclaimedprotector,butatthemomenthewasaboutashelpfulasthestatueofNemoSign.

“Well,Mr.Lion…”My

voicesoundedassqueakyasMickeyMouse.“Icantellyou’reupset.But,uh,Idon’tevenknowthegods.Ididn’tknowIwasademigoduntillikeanhourago—”




Selectachoice:

SWORD

OUTWIT

“Theroad,”Isaid.“Itlookedliketherewerealotofcarsupthere.Wecangetsomeonetohelpusout.”

“Idon’tknow…”saidSam.“You’renot,like,greatwithadults.”

“Thanksforthevoteofconfidence,”Isaid,andtookofffortheroad,Samhotonmyheels.Hisbreathingwhistledandpuffedexactly

likeahorseor…agoat.Solet’ssee,Ithought.Ineedtoconvincesomeonetoletahalf-animal,half-manintotheircaranddriveustoanabandonedlibrary.Ididn’tfeelverygoodaboutourchances,butIfeltworseaboutstayingintheforest.

Wegottothecrackedasphaltandstopped,lookingintothedistanceineitherdirection.

“Nocars,”saidSam,his

voicetight.Helookedbacktowardtheforest.

“Yeah,Iseethat,”Isaid.“Shouldwegoback?”As

ifinanswertohisquestion,ahowlechoedoutofthewoodsandthetreetopsquiveredlikesomethingverylargewasshakingthem.

JustwhenIwasthinkingI’dmadethewrongchoice,Ispottedasmallreddotmovingtowardus,waveringintheheatreflectingoffthe

road.“There!”Samspunaroundand

pumpedhisfistintheair.“Yes!Okay,look.Weprobablyonlyhaveoneshotatthis,soremembertomakeeyecontactandsmile.Anddon’tmumble.Andrelaxyourshoulders.Andstandupstraight.Anddon’tshiftyourweight…”

“Igotit!”Isaidandsteppedintothemiddleoftheroad,wavingmyhandsinthe

air,rehearsingwhatIwasgoingtosay.Samwasrighttoworry.Iwasn’talwaysgoodatreadingpeopleortalkingtoadults.ButIunderstoodthestakes.Thistime,Ihadnoroomforerror.

Aredconvertiblecameflyingtowardme,thenbrakedhard,itsengineslowingtoalow,evenidleunderawallofmusic.Thedriverrevveditandgesturedformetogetoutoftheway.

Instead,Ipastedabigsmileonmyfaceandwalkedtowardthefrontofthecar.“Hi,sir,”Ishoutedoverthethumpingbass,“Thanksforstopping.”

Theman,inhisearlythirties,hadstylishlymessybrownhair.Hewaswearingdarkaviatorsunglassesandacrispbluebutton-downrolledupatthesleeves,revealinganexpensive-lookingwristwatch.

IkeptthesmileplasteredonmyfaceandgesturedtoSamasIcontinuedtoshout.“MyfriendandIarejusttryingtogettothelibrary,andweneedsomehelp.”

Hereachedforward,quietingthemusic.“Sorry,I’mnotfromaroundhereandI’minahurry.You’llhavetocatchanotherride.”Heputhishandonthegearshift.

“Well,wewouldjustwaitforthenextcar,butwe’re

tryingto…umm…meetmymother.Sheworksthere.S-she’salibrarian.And,andshegetsreallyupsetwhenwe’relate.”Mywordswerehaltingandawkward.IsoundedlikeexactlywhatIwas:aliar.

“Thenwhydon’tyoucallhertopickyouup?Idon’thavetimeforthis.”Hisrightarmmoved,andIheardthegearsshiftasheturnedtolookoverhisrightshoulder.

Anotherhowlechoedfromthewoods,thistime,muchcloser.

“Please,sir.”Isteppedforward.“Myfriendhasa…ahurtleg.And,and…AndI’mhavingahardtimebreathing…”

Themansmiled.“And,and…AndI’mhavingahardtimegettingyoutounderstandthatit’sreallynotmyproblem.”Hereversedthecardowntheroadaboutten

feet,punchedthestereobackon,thenpulledaroundusandspedaway,leavingusalone…again.

“Well,thatwentwell,”saidSam,glancingbackattheforest.“Wecaneitherwaitforanothercartoshowup,headbacktothebridge,orstayinthewoodsandtrytojumptheriver.Whatdoyouthink?”

“Idon’tknow,”Isaid,embarrassedbymyfailure.

“MaybeI’mnogoodatmakingdecisions.Youhavetohelpme.”

Samshookhishead.“Idon’tknoweither.Itmightbetoolatetogoback,somaybewearebetteroffwaitingforanothercar.Butifthatgoesanythinglikethisjustdid…we’relionkibble.”Hestaredatme,waitingformetodecide.

Ithoughtforamoment.

Selectachoice:

ROADAGAIN

WOODS

BRIDGE

Theleonteuncoiledhislimbslikeaspringandhurtledthroughtheair.Ashedid,Iturnedandleapttowardthelocker,hopingtoreachthesword.ThoughImanagedtoavoidtheswipinglionclaws,Ilandedfarshortoftheglowingblade.

Iscrambledforward,buttheleonteleaptagain,landingbetweenmeandthelocker.

Helaughed.“Notmuchofahero,”hesaid.“Iwasexpectingmoreofachallenge.”

HetookoneleisurelystepforwardasIlookedaroundfranticallyforsomething…anything.Butmypocketswereemptyandtherewasn’tevenabookorascrapofpaperwithinarm’sreach.Theleontestoodaboveme,raisedonemassivepaw,and…

…howledinpain,his

eyeswideninginsurprise.Heslumpedtotheground,revealingSam,theglowingbladequiveringinhishands.IshoutedinsurpriseandSamquicklytossedmethesword,asifitwasadirtytissue.Iscrambledtomyfeet,pointingtheweaponattheleonte’scrumpledform.

“Miserabledemigod!”Thelion’sfurdisintegrated.Hislimbscrumbledintocolumnsofyellowpowder.

“Youwillneversucceed!Yourquestwillnot…”

Hecollapsedintoapileofdust.

Foramoment,thelibrarywasassilentas…well,alibrary.

Samletoutadelayedbleat.“Wow!That—thatwas—”

“Terrifying?”Iasked.Myhandsshook.Mylegscouldbarelyholdupmyweight.

Ihadofficiallyreached

maximumweirdnessoverload.IwantedtocrawlintoSam’ssecretstoragecabinet,closethedoor,andcryforaweek.

Instead,thingsjustgotweirder.

YOUHAVEDONEWELL.Awoman’svoiceechoedaroundtheabandonedroom.

Windsweptthroughthebrokenwindow,rufflingtheopenbooks,blowingtorn

pagesacrossthefloor.Dustmotesswirledina

shaftofsunlight,solidifyingintotheformofawoman.Sheworeluminouswhiterobescoveredinintricateblackpatterns…words,Irealized,asifherclotheswerewovenfrome-readerscreens.Darkhaircurledaroundhertimelessface.Hereyesboredrightthroughme.

Sambowed.“Your—YourGreatness.YourMost

Well-ReadMajesty.”“Mnemosyne,”Iguessed.

“Thegoddessofmemory.”Thegoddessinclinedher

head.“AndyouaretheheroIhaveheardsomuchabout.”

IrealizedIwaspointingmyweaponatthegoddess,whichprobablywasn’tasmartidea.Iloweredit.“You’veheardaboutme?”

“Oh,yes.”Mnemosynesighed.“Ineverforgetastory,oraname,oraface.

Actually,Ineverforgetanything.Beingthememorygoddesscanbequiteannoying.IsawthishorribleBenStillermoviefifteenyearsagoandIstillcan’tgetthedialogueoutofmymind.”

“Uh,okay,”Isaid.“Butgettingbacktome…”

“Yes,”thegoddessagreed.Shescannedtheruinsofthelibrary.“Youdidmeaservice,cleansingthisplaceofthemonster’sfilth.Once,

thiswasaholysiteoflearning,reading,andfreeInternet.Alas,themortalsconsidersuchthingsoflittlevalue.You,myyounghero,havemanyadventuresaheadofyou.Yourquestwillberememberedforcenturies,writtenaboutinmanybooks…assuming,ofcourse,yousurvive.Toaidinyourjourney,Iofferyouagift.”Thegoddesssweptherwhiterobesasidetorevealasmall

woodenlecternwiththreeitemsontopofit.“Dependingonhowwellyouknowyourself,itmayhelpyou.Ornot.Choosewisely.”

Whatkindofgiftswouldagoddessgive?Ithought.Gold?Frankincense?AniPod?Iwalkedexcitedlyovertothelectern,butmyheartsankwhenIscannedtheitems:anoldlibrarycard,abatteredpairofglasses,andasmallsectionofwhitecloth.

IlookedtoSam,butheonlynoddedencouraginglyandechoedherwords,“Choosewisely,Zane.”

Veryhelpful,Ithought.Iguesshewasseriousaboutmemakingallthedecisions.

Slowly,Iextendedmyhandandtookthelibrarycard.

Thegoddessnoddedandherrobesswungforward,envelopingthelectern.“Anexcellentchoice,myyoung

hero,”shesaid.“Iwishyouwell.”

“Wait!”Igulped.“Doyou—doyouknowwhomygodlyparentis?”

“Ah…”Thelinesaroundthegoddess’seyestightened,almostasifshefeltsorryforme.“Thatyoumustlearnforyourself.Icanonlysetyouonthepath.”

SheturnedtoSam.“MyyoungsatyrGreenwood,youmustleadyourfriendto

Austin.Thereyouwillfindtheanswersyouseek.”

“Austin,Texas…?”Sam’sfaceblanched.“ButAustinhas,um,thosespecialmonsters…”

“Yes,itdoes,”saidthegoddess.“Yourquestwillnotbeeasy,butitisnecessary.”Shelookedatmeagain.“Ifyouwouldknowyourtrueparentage,gotoAustin.SeekouttherivergodBarton.Donotforgetme,hero.Rest

assured,Iwillnotforgetyou.”

Thegoddessdissolvedintosunlight.

Sammadeasmallwhimperingnoise.“Austin…oh,IstillhavenightmaresaboutAustin.”

Itriedtocontrolmyracingheartbeat.Icouldn’tquitebelieveI’dhadaconversationwithanimmortalgoddess.“What—whathappenedtoyouin

Austin?WhatkindofrivergodisnamedBarton?Andwhatarethosespecialmonstersyoumentioned?”

Hislowerlipquivered.“I’lltellyouallthatwhenwegetcloser.Ipromise.IfIhavetotalkaboutitnow…”

Hiseyeswelledwithtears.IrealizedSamwasevenmoreshakenupabouttoday’seventsthanIwas.Soyeah,maybeheknewallaboutthisweirdworldof

godsandmonsters.Andmaybethegodshadassignedhimtoprotectme.Buthewasstillmyfriend,andIwouldhavetostepupandprotecthim,too.

Ilookedaroundatallthescatteredbooks,coveredwithdust.Mnemosynehadclaimedthatmydeedswouldbewrittenaboutsomeday,assumingIsurvived.Ididn’tcareaboutbeingfamous.Ididcareaboutsurviving.IfI

hadtobeinastory,Ididn’twanttheendingtoread:Andhediedpainfully.

“It’sgoingtobeallright,”ItoldSam.“We’reinthistogether.Idon’tliketheideaofstayinghereovernight,though.Howaboutwegetgoing?”

Samtookadeepbreath.“Yeah.It’salongwaytoAustin.”

“Thenlet’sgetstarted.”Igrabbedoneofthehiking

packsandslungitovermyshoulder.“Let’sgofindoutwhomygodlyparentis.”

GOTOAUSTIN

“Ach-challenge!”Imanagedtoshout,wrackingmybrainforfactsaboutlions,hopingtheywouldalsoapplytoleontes.

Hestopped,thehintofasmileflittingacrosshismassivejowls.“Whatdoyoumean,‘achallenge’?”

“YoursisterchallengedmewithariddleandpromisedtoletmegoifI

answereditcorrectly.Ianswereditandthegodsstruckherdown.”

Theleontelookedaroundnervously.“Youlie.”

Samsidledclosertomeandwhispered,“Ithinkyou’rethinkingofthesphinx.”

“You’rethekingofthejungle,aren’tyou?Everyoneknowskingsmustbestrongerandsmarter.”

“That’strue,”saidthe

leonte.“ButIamsuremysisterdidnotofferyouachallenge.Andifshedid,youcertainlydidnotoutwither.ShewasthecleverestdaughterofAtalanta.”

“AndIsupposeyou’rethecleverestson?”Itriedtorememberariddle—anyriddle.

“Ofcourse,”hesaid,sittingbackonhishaunches,lickinghislipsmightily.IheardSamsqueak.

“Thenyouwouldn’tmindprovingit,”Isaid.“Afterall,thegodsarewatching…evenAphrodite.”

Theleonteleapttohisfeetandgrowled.“Iwillacceptyourchallenge.AndthenIwilldestroyyou,demigod.”Hebegantopacetheroom,waiting.

Iwalkedovertowardthelocker,keepingmybacktoitandmyeyesaverted.“I’llaskyouthesameriddleyour

sisteraskedme.Ifyouansweritcorrectly,Iwillkneelandacceptmyfate.Ifyoufail,youkneelinfrontofme.”

“Zane,”saidSam,hisvoicequivering,“whatareyoudoing?”

“Askit,then,”snarledtheleonte.

“Okay,”Isaid,clearingmythroat.“Hereisyourriddle.Um…

“Hurry,”snarledthe

leonte.“Askitjustasshedid.”

“Whatistheonlythingyoucanseeinthedark?”Iblurtedout.

“Inthedark?”askedtheleonte,pacingtheroom.Iedgedclosertothecloset.

“Yes.Inthedark.Exactlyasyoursisteraskedme.”

“Andyouansweredthiscorrectly?”

“Inseconds.Ijustclosedmyeyestolookinthedark

andIsawtheanswer,”IsaidwithasmuchbravadoasIcouldmuster.

“Hm,”theleontesaidandsat,thinking.

SamlookedatmeandInoddedwithwhatIhopedwasconfidenceasImovedafewstepsclosertothelocker.

Theleonteglaredatme,thenatSam.Afteramoment,hecarefullyclosedhiseyesandIlungedforthelocker,unsheathingtheswordand

slashingthebladeacrossthemonster’schest.Hecollapsed,howlinginpain.Thebladeglowedwithafaintbronzelight.

“Miserabledemigod!”Thelion’sfurdisintegrated.Hislimbscrumbledintocolumnsofyellowpowder.“Youwillneversucceed!Yourquestwillnot…”

Hecollapsedintoapileofdust.

Foramoment,thelibrary

wasassilentas…well,alibrary.

Samletoutadelayedbleat.“Wow!That—thatwas—”

“Terrifying?”Iasked.Myhandsshook.Mylegscouldbarelyholdupmyweight.

Ihadofficiallyreachedmaximumweirdnessoverload.IwantedtocrawlintoSam’ssecretstoragecabinet,closethedoor,andcryforaweek.

Instead,thingsjustgotweirder.

YOUHAVEDONEWELL.Awoman’svoiceechoedaroundtheabandonedroom.

Windsweptthroughthebrokenwindow,rufflingtheopenbooks,blowingtornpagesacrossthefloor.

Dustmotesswirledinashaftofsunlight,solidifyingintotheformofawoman.Sheworeluminouswhite

robescoveredinintricateblackpatterns…words,Irealized,asifherclotheswerewovenfrome-readerscreens.Darkhaircurledaroundhertimelessface.Hereyesboredrightthroughme.

Sambowed.“Your—YourGreatness.YourMostWell-ReadMajesty.”

“Mnemosyne,”Iguessed.“Thegoddessofmemory.”

Thegoddessinclinedherhead.“AndyouaretheheroI

haveheardsomuchabout.”IrealizedIwaspointing

myweaponatthegoddess,whichprobablywasn’tasmartidea.Iloweredit.“You’veheardaboutme?”

“Oh,yes.”Mnemosynesighed.“Ineverforgetastory,oraname,oraface.Actually,Ineverforgetanything.Beingthememorygoddesscanbequiteannoying.IsawthishorribleBenStillermoviefifteen

yearsagoandIstillcan’tgetthedialogueoutofmymind.”

“Uh,okay,”Isaid.“Butgettingbacktome…”

“Yes,”thegoddessagreed.Shescannedtheruinsofthelibrary.“Youdidmeaservice,cleansingthisplaceofthemonster’sfilth.Once,thiswasaholysiteoflearning,reading,andfreeInternet.Alas,themortalsconsidersuchthingsoflittlevalue.You,myyounghero,

havemanyadventuresaheadofyou.Yourquestwillberememberedforcenturies,writtenaboutinmanybooks…assuming,ofcourse,yousurvive.Toaidinyourjourney,Iofferyouagift.”Thegoddesssweptherwhiterobesasidetorevealasmallwoodenlecternwiththreeitemsontopofit.“Dependingonhowwellyouknowyourself,itmayhelpyou.Ornot.Choosewisely.”

Whatkindofgiftswouldagoddessgive?Ithought.Gold?Frankincense?AniPod?Iwalkedexcitedlyovertothelectern,butmyheartsankwhenIscannedtheitems:anoldlibrarycard,abatteredpairofglasses,andasmallsectionofwhitecloth.

IlookedtoSam,butheonlynoddedencouraginglyandechoedherwords,“Choosewisely,Zane.”

Veryhelpful,Ithought.I

guesshewasseriousaboutmemakingallthedecisions.

Slowly,Iextendedmyhandandtookthelibrarycard.

Thegoddessnoddedandherrobesswungforward,envelopingthelectern.“Anexcellentchoice,myyounghero,”shesaid.“Iwishyouwell.”

“Wait!”Igulped.“Doyou—doyouknowwhomygodlyparentis?”

“Ah…”Thelinesaroundthegoddess’seyestightened,almostasifshefeltsorryforme.“Thatyoumustlearnforyourself.Icanonlysetyouonthepath.”

SheturnedtoSam.“MyyoungsatyrGreenwood,youmustleadyourfriendtoAustin.Thereyouwillfindtheanswersyouseek.”

“Austin,Texas…?”Sam’sfaceblanched.“ButAustinhas,um,thosespecial

monsters…”“Yes,itdoes,”saidthe

goddess.“Yourquestwillnotbeeasy,butitisnecessary.”Shelookedatmeagain.“Ifyouwouldknowyourtrueparentage,gotoAustin.SeekouttherivergodBarton.Donotforgetme,hero.Restassured,Iwillnotforgetyou.”

Thegoddessdissolvedintosunlight.

Sammadeasmall

whimperingnoise.“Austin…oh,IstillhavenightmaresaboutAustin.”

Itriedtocontrolmyracingheartbeat.Icouldn’tquitebelieveI’dhadaconversationwithanimmortalgoddess.“What—whathappenedtoyouinAustin?WhatkindofrivergodisnamedBarton?Andwhatarethosespecialmonstersyoumentioned?”

Hislowerlipquivered.

“I’lltellyouallthatwhenwegetcloser.Ipromise.IfIhavetotalkaboutitnow…”

Hiseyeswelledwithtears.IrealizedSamwasevenmoreshakenupabouttoday’seventsthanIwas.Soyeah,maybeheknewallaboutthisweirdworldofgodsandmonsters.Andmaybethegodshadassignedhimtoprotectme.Buthewasstillmyfriend,andIwouldhavetostepupandprotect

him,too.Ilookedaroundatallthe

scatteredbooks,coveredwithdust.Mnemosynehadclaimedthatmydeedswouldbewrittenaboutsomeday,assumingIsurvived.Ididn’tcareaboutbeingfamous.Ididcareaboutsurviving.IfIhadtobeinastory,Ididn’twanttheendingtoread:Andhediedpainfully.

“It’sgoingtobeallright,”ItoldSam.“We’rein

thistogether.Idon’tliketheideaofstayinghereovernight,though.Howaboutwegetgoing?”

Samtookadeepbreath.“Yeah.It’salongwaytoAustin.”

“Thenlet’sgetstarted.”Igrabbedoneofthehikingpacksandslungitovermyshoulder.“Let’sgofindoutwhomygodlyparentis.”

GOTOAUSTIN

“Woods,”Isaidslowly,worryingthattheleontewassimplywaitingattheedgeofthetreelineforustocomeback.

Samnodded,thinking.“Maybethat’sabetterchoice.”

“Hastobebetterthanthisone,”Isaid,startingbacktowardtheforest.

“Notnecessarily,”said

Sam.Togetherwecarefully

enteredthewoods.Notseeinganysignoftheleonte,wesprintedthroughthetreesuntilwereachedtheedgeoftheriver.Iwashavingsecondthoughtsaswestaredatthefrothingwater,theswirlingeddies,thesharp-edgedrocks…untilaloudgrowlbroughtmebacktomynewreality.

Samshuddered.“Giveme

yourfolder.Justincase.”Ihadn’teventhought

abouttheredfoldergettingruined.IhandedittoSam,whopulledaZiplocbagoutofhisbackpack.Hewrappedupthefolderandstuffeditinhisbag.

“WhydoyoualwayscarryZiplocs?”Iasked.

“Theymakegreatsnacks.”

Ihopedhewaskidding.Thenagain,Ihadnoidea

whatsatyrsconsideredtastyjunkfood.

Itookafewstepsbackandinhaleddeeply.

Anotherroar,thistimemuchcloser.

“Go!”saidSam,andIsprintedfortheriver.WhenIreacheditsbank,Iplantedmyfootinthesoftmudandtookawildleap.IknewimmediatelythatI’dmisjudgedthedistance,andIflailedmyarmsasIcrashed

neartheoppositebank.Ilandedhardinthe

shallowwater,asmallboulderhigh-fivingmychestandsmashingthewindoutofme.ImoanedasIclungtotheslipperyrockandtriedtocatchmybreath,thehowlsoftheleontegrowingcloser.

Twohooveslandedwithathumprightinfrontofmyface,andIlookeduptoseeSamthere,staringdownatmewithaconcernedlook.

“Notsurethiswasthebestdecision,”hesaid,reachingdownandyankingmetomyfeet.Iwinced,ignoringthepainshootingthroughmylimbs.“We’restuckwithit,though,socomeon.”

Hetookoffrunningthroughthewoods,andIdidmybesttofollow.Mykneeachedfromthefall,andIwassuremychestwasbruised.Fiveminutes…thenten.Howfarwasthisplace?

Samhadtokeepstoppingtowaitforme.“Ithinktheleonterandownstream,”hesaid,anxiouslylookingbehindme.“Probablylookingforabetterplacetocross.That’llbuyusalittlemoretime,butwereally,reallyhavetohurry.”

Toowindedtospeak,InoddedandgulpedasmuchairasIcould.Sweatpoureddownmyfaceandmythighsscreamedinprotest.TwiceI

fellandhadtobehauledtomyfeetbymysatyrprotector.

Iwascontemplatingwhetherdeathbylionwouldbemoreorlesspainfulthanaheartattackwhenweburstintoaclearingbehindtheoldpubliclibrary.


Thetownlibraryhadbeen

shutdownseveralyearsago—somethingaboutstatefundingcuts.Withitsredbrickfacade,whitecolumns,andclocktower,thelibraryhadalwaysbeenthenicestbuildingonMainStreet.Nowthatitwasclosed,itfeltlikethetown’shearthadstoppedbeating.

Thewindowsweredark.Themainentrancewasboardedup.Taggershadspray-paintedneongraffiti

acrossthefrontsteps.“Howdowegetin?”I

asked.“Aroundtheside.”Sam

ledmetoastormcellarentrancehalf-hiddeninthebushes.Abigpadlockhungfromthelatch,butSamproducedakeyfromhisbackpackandopenedthelock.


Samshrugged.“It’s

nothingfancyinside,butatleastthegoddessmightprotectus.”


descendedintothecellar.Ididn’tfeelsosureaboutfollowinghimintothedark,butIalsodidn’twanttowaitaroundfortheleontetocatchup.Iclimbeddownthestepsandclosedthedoorbehindus.

That’swhenIheardit…

therustleoflittlefeetscurryingacrossthefloor.Andsqueaking.Lotsofsqueaking.



“Rats,”Iblurted,ashudderrunningthroughmybody.“Oh,no.Ican’tgo

downthere,Sam.Ican’t.”“Oh,”saidSam.“That’s

right.”Hepulledaflashlightfromhisbackpack,wincingasthebeamsweptacrossrowsofmolderingcardboardboxes,stacksoffoldingchairs…andamoving,furryfloor.Therewereratseverywhere—hundredsofthem.Mychestclenchedup,andIfeltlikethewallswereclosingin.Iturnedandstartedbackupthestairs,but

Samgrabbedmeandshookhishead.“Theleonte,”hewhispered.


“You’regoingtohavetogetoverit,”saidSam.“There’sreallynootherchoice.”

Itookadeepbreath.Thebasementsmelledofmildewandrustandwetfur(thoughIguessedthatlastsmellcouldbefromSam).Hepannedthe

flashlightoverthewrithing,squeakingfloor,landingthebeamonasmallsetofstairsdirectlyoppositeus.“There,”hesaid.“Thosestairsleadtothemainreadingroom.Ifwecanmakeitacross,we’llbesafe.”



“Andriskyoudropping

meinthemiddleoftheratocean?Fatchance.”


SomethingbrushedagainstmylegandIjumpedstraightupintheair,tryingnottoscream.Thiswasliterallymyworstnightmarecometrue.

“There’renootheroptions?”Iasked,angrythat

myvoicesoundedsoweakandfrightened.



Iheardhimlaugh,thenpause.“It’llprobablygetworse.”

“Itcan’tgetworse.Thisistheworst.Theworstthingever.Inthewholewide

world.That’severhappened.Ever.”


“Doyouenjoybeingannoying?”Iasked.ThenIsighed,knowinghewasright.IhadtostartfacingmyfearsifIwantedtobeahero.“Whatdowedo?”


Itriedtopreventmyselffromhyperventilatingagain,andtoslowmyracingheartbeat.Getittogether,Zane,Ithought.Inodded,thenrealizedSamcouldn’tseeme.“Okay,”Imanaged.“Let’sdoit.”



“Okay,”saidSam.“I’llpointthelightatthestairs.Justfocusonthose,notthefloor.Holdontomybackpack,”hesaid,pullingittightoverbothshoulders.

Ibitmylipandgrabbedhisbag,tryingnottothinkaboutallthosesharplittle

clawsandweirdnakedtailsandbeadyeyes.



WebothexhaledasSam

slowlysteppedforward,slidinghisfeetalongthefloorunderneaththesquirmingmasses.Ifollowed,strugglingtoholdontohisbag,nearlytrippingdownthestairs.Asmysecondfootreachedthefloor,Isqueezedmyeyeseventighterandfocusedonmatchingmybreathtotheshufflingofourfeet.IN.Slideright,slideleft.OUT.Slideright,slideleft.IN.Justslidingalong.OUT.Nothing

creepygoingon.Then…beforeIknewit,

Sam’sbackpackliftedaswesteppedontotheoppositestaircase.


BloodpumpedinmyearsandIcouldbarelyhearthesqueakinganymore.Ididdoit.Maybetherewas

somethingheroicinsideofmeafterall.


Sampointedthelightupatadoor,thenbowedandextendedhisarm.“Afteryou,”hesaid.“Youearnedit.”

MykneeswereweakasIclimbedintothelibrary’smainreadingroom.Ihadn’t

beentheresinceIwasalittlekid.Stacksofbooksmarchedoffinalldirections.Afewbookshelveshadbeenoverturned.Somebooksformedpilesinthecornerslikesnowdrifts.Othersweretornandstrewnaround,smashedbymuddyfootprints.Judgingfromthepilesofwrappersandcans,andthearticlesofoldclothingstrewnacrossthefurniture,weweren’ttheonly

oneswhohaddiscoveredawayin.Onthemarblefloorneartheexitweretheremnantsofanoldcampfire.

Ihadmixedfeelingsaboutthisplace,butwhateveryouthoughtoflibraries,therewasnodenyingthatthisonewassad.Nobodyhadevenbotheredtosellorgiveawaythebooks.Thebuildinghadjustbeenabandoned.Eventhetransientsorlocalteenagerswho’dbrokenin

overtheyearsdidn’tcareenoughtobotherwiththebooks—excepttousethemastinderforfires.


Thefigureworeflowingrobes.Sheheldanopenbookinonehandlikeshewasabouttoreciteapoem.Herfacewasbeautifulbutstern.Herdarkhairfellinringlets

aroundherface.I’msureI’dseenthe

statuebefore,butI’dneverpaiditmuchattention.NowIrealizedwhatitwas.



HepronounceditlikeNemoSign,thoughasfarasIcouldtell,thegoddesshadnothingtodowithcartoon

fish.“Neverheardofher,”I

admitted.“She’snotoneofthebiggods,Iguess.”



andthegodsarereal.She’soneoftheearlyTitandeities,oneofthegoodTitans.She’sthemotheroftheNineMuseswhooverseeallthearts:music,poetry,dancing,and

whatnot.Anyway,librariesareMnemosyne’ssacredplace.Herspiritisstronghere.Sheprotectsthisplace.”


“Seriously,bemorerespectful.”Samglancedatthegoddess’sface.“Herpresencewillkeepthemonstersatbay.Atleast…itshould.We’llgetoursupplies

together,resthereforthenight,andfigureoutournextmove.”


“Therewillalwaysbemoremonsters,”Samsaidgrimly.“Nowthatthey’velocatedyou,they’llneverstoptryingtokillyou.You’reademigod.Yourlife…well,fromhereonout,it’llbe

hard.ButI’llbewithyou.You’renotalone.”

IappreciatedSamsayingthat,butIwasstartingtoprocessthefactthatIcouldn’tgohome.Nottonight.Maybenotever.Mylifehadfundamentallychanged.Iwouldneverbeabletogobacktoanythingresemblingnormal.

Samapproachedthebaseofthestatue.Hepushedthebronzeplaqueinscribedwith

thegoddess’sname.Thepedestalhissed,andthefrontpartswungopenlikearefrigeratordoor.

InsidewasalockeralmostastallasIwas.Ispottedtwohikingpackswithbedrollsandwaterbottles.Andhangingonthebackwallofthecabinetwasasheathedswordwithabluegemglowingfaintlyonthepommel.

BeforeIcouldsay

anything,aglasswindowshatteredbehindme.AlionevenbiggerthanMs.Rochecrashedthroughandlandedonlytenfeetaway.

“Thereyouare.”Thelion’svoicewasdefinitelymale.Hissnarlingfacewaswreathedinashaggygoldenmane.Hisfullyextendedclawsgleamedwhite.Heroseonhishaunches,whichonlymadehimlookscarier.“Youdestroyedmysister,”he

snarled.“NowIwilldestroyyou.”


“Weareleontes!”thelionbellowed.“ThechildrenofAtalanta!Wealwayshuntinpairs.Normally,thefemalehasthehonorofthekill,butsinceyousentherbacktoTartarus—”

“Wait.”IwashopingifI

boughtusalittletime,Samcouldgetusoutofthissomehow.Maybeoneofthepacksinthecabinetcontainedafewhandgrenadesorpossiblyabazooka.“Um,Mr.Lion…sorry,butIalwaysliketoknowwho’skillingme.Yousaidyou’reachildofwho?”

“Atalanta!”hecried.“ThemostfamousGreekheroine!Aglorioushunter.Thefastestofrunners.Sheandourfather

HippomeneswerecursedbythatridiculouslovegoddessAphroditesimplybecausetheyforgottomakeafewsacrificesduringtheirweddingceremony.Aphroditechangedthemintolions!Eversince,wetheirdescendantshaveprowledtheworld,lookingforrevenge.Sincewecannotdestroythegods,wedestroytheirchildren!”

Iwasoutofmagicaltree-

growinggoldcoins,soIglancedatSam,hopinghehadfoundabazooka.Sadly,hewasfrozeninterror.Hemayhavebeenmyself-proclaimedprotector,butatthemomenthewasaboutashelpfulasthestatueofNemoSign.

“Well,Mr.Lion…”MyvoicesoundedassqueakyasMickeyMouse.“Icantellyou’reupset.But,uh,Idon’tevenknowthegods.Ididn’t

knowIwasademigoduntillikeanhourago—”




Selectachoice:

SWORD

OUTWIT

“Let’sgobacktothebridge,”Isaid.“MaybeIcanfigureoutawaytogetusacross.”

“Yousure?”askedSam,wrinklinghisnose.

“AmI…?Ofcoursenot!Ijustalmostgotuskilled!Itoldyou—Idon’tknowwhatI’mdoing.Ijustdon’tthinkIcanjumpthatriver.”

Samlookedaroundnervously.“OK—Butwe

shouldhurry.Thatleonteissomewhereinthewoods.”

Togetherwecarefullyenteredthewoods.Notseeinganysignoftheleonte,wesprintedthroughthetreesuntilwereachedtheoldbridge.Iknelttotakeacloserlook.

“Thesupportsarefine,”Isaid,tuggingonthewiretruss,andkickingtheconcreteblockwhereitconnectedtotheshore.“The

problemisthosewoodenslats.They’reprettyrotten.Idon’tthinkthey’llsupportourweight.”

“Um,okay,”saidSam,lookingaroundnervously.“Youcanfixit?Like,fast?”

Iscannedthearea,relievedtoseeseveralsuitablebranches.“Yeah,bringmeasmanyofthosebranchesasyoucan—thethickerthebetter.”

SamandIdraggedthe

branchesovertothebridge.Ilinedthemupsotheendswerefacingeachriverbank,thenslidthemoutovertherottingslats.“We’llusethesetodistributeourweight.Itshouldkeepthewoodfrombreaking.”

“Should?”“Yeah…should.I’llgo

first.”Iputacautiousfootontothelayerofbranches,feelingforanygive.Everythingseemedokay,soI

pulledmyleftfootontothebridge,keepingitasfaraspossiblebehindmyright.IlookedatSam,smiled,andscootedbothmyfeetandthebranchesforward,keepingmyweightspreadout.Iinchedalong,thenhoppedeasilyontotheoppositebank.

Samhadalreadylaidoutanewsetofbranchesonthefarside.“Comeon,”Isaid.

Justthen,thefoliagebehindhimrustledandthe

leonteleaptout.Samyelpedandtrotted

ontotheancientbridge,holdinghisarmsouttothesidesforbalance.Butwheremysneakersgrippedthewood,hishoovesslippedandslid.Igatheredafewlargerbranchesfrommyside,tryingtomakeiteasierforhim.

Hetookafewmorestepsandfrozeatthesoundofcrackingwood.“WhatdoIdo?”hesaid,eyeswide.

“Stepaslightlyaspossible,”Isaid,“andwalktowardme.”

I’dneverseenhimsofrightened.“Ican’tdoit.”

“Youcandoit,Sam.RememberthetimeIfelloffParker’sroofandyoucarriedmeallthewayhome?”

Samnoddedslightly,butotherwiseremainedfrozen.

“Youkeptsaying‘Onemorestep,onemorestep,’remember?”Samnodded

again.“Dothesamething,okay?Onemorestep.”

Samtookastepforward.Theleonteroared.“Onemorestep,”Isaid.Hetookanotherstep.

Thenanother.“Almostthere!”Isaid.

“Onemorestep!”Andthenhewasacross,

collapsingtheatricallybesideme.

Beforewecouldcelebrate,theleonteputan

enormouspawontothebridge,testingit.

“Comeon,”Isaid.“Helpme!”Ileanedforwardandstartedmadlybrushingthebranchesoffthebridgeandintotherapidsbelow.

Sampickedupafewrocksandthrewthemattheleonte,causingthemonstertopausemomentarilybeforebellowingwithrageandthencontinuinghiswayacross.

I’dneverbeabletoknock

therestofthebranchesoffintime.Iscannedthearea,spottingafewrocksthesizeofbowlingballs.“Biggerones!”Ishouted.

“Throwbiggerrocks!”Ipickedoneupand

hefteditontothebridge.Theoldplankscreakedundertheaddedweight,andtheleontestopped,suddenlylookinguncertain.

“Yeah!”shoutedSam,aswebothhurledmoreboulders

ontothefragilewood.Theleonteroaredwith

frustration,thentookanotherstep.Asitshifteditsweightontoaplank,thewoodsnappedinhalf.Theleonte’spawshotthroughthegapandthenitswholebodyfellontotherottingbridge,shatteringnearlyeveryplank.

Theleontehowledasitfellintotherushingrapids,andIcouldn’thelpbutsmileasitwaswhisked

downstream,itscriesgrowingfainterbythesecond.

“Youdidit!”saidSam.“Wedidit,”Isaid,

smiling.“Fairenough,”saidSam.

“Nowlet’sgo.Thatriverwon’tdistracthimforlong.”

Weturnedandsprintedthroughthewoods,leapingoverfallentreesandavoidingbrambles.

Afterabouttenminutes,SamandIburstintoa

clearingbehindtheoldpubliclibrary.


Thetownlibraryhadbeenshutdownseveralyearsago—somethingaboutstatefundingcuts.Withitsredbrickfacade,whitecolumns,andclocktower,thelibraryhadalwaysbeenthenicestbuildingonMainStreet.Now

thatitwasclosed,itfeltlikethetown’shearthadstoppedbeating.


“Howdowegetin?”Iasked.

“Aroundtheside.”Samledmetoastormcellarentrancehalf-hiddeninthebushes.Abigpadlockhung

fromthelatch,butSamproducedakeyfromhisbackpackandopenedthelock.


Samshrugged.“It’snothingfancyinside,butatleastthegoddessmightprotectus.”


descendedintothecellar.Ididn’tfeelsosureabout

followinghimintothedark,butIalsodidn’twanttowaitaroundfortheleontetocatchup.Iclimbeddownthestepsandclosedthedoorbehindus.

That’swhenIheardit…therustleoflittlefeetscurryingacrossthefloor.Andsqueaking.Lotsofsqueaking.



“Rats,”Iblurted,ashudderrunningthroughmybody.“Oh,no.Ican’tgodownthere,Sam.Ican’t.”

“Oh,”saidSam.“That’sright.”Hepulledaflashlightfromhisbackpack,wincingasthebeamsweptacrossrowsofmolderingcardboardboxes,stacksoffolding

chairs…andamoving,furryfloor.Therewereratseverywhere—hundredsofthem.Mychestclenchedup,andIfeltlikethewallswereclosingin.Iturnedandstartedbackupthestairs,butSamgrabbedmeandshookhishead.“Theleonte,”hewhispered.


“You’regoingtohavetogetoverit,”saidSam.

“There’sreallynootherchoice.”

Itookadeepbreath.Thebasementsmelledofmildewandrustandwetfur(thoughIguessedthatlastsmellcouldbefromSam).Hepannedtheflashlightoverthewrithing,squeakingfloor,landingthebeamonasmallsetofstairsdirectlyoppositeus.“There,”hesaid.“Thosestairsleadtothemainreadingroom.Ifwecanmakeitacross,we’llbe

safe.”“Buthow?”Isaid.“There

mustbeamillionofthem!”“Maybeyoucangeton

myshoulders?”saidSamdoubtfully.



Somethingbrushed

againstmylegandIjumpedstraightupintheair,tryingnottoscream.Thiswasliterallymyworstnightmarecometrue.



Inodded,gladthedarknesswashidingmyface.“Thisherothingisthe

worst.”Iheardhimlaugh,then

pause.“It’llprobablygetworse.”

“Itcan’tgetworse.Thisistheworst.Theworstthingever.Inthewholewideworld.That’severhappened.Ever.”

Hewasquietforasecond.“Butifyoucangetthroughthis,youcanprobablygetthroughanything,right?Inthewhole

wideworld?Ever?”“Doyouenjoybeing

annoying?”Iasked.ThenIsighed,knowinghewasright.IhadtostartfacingmyfearsifIwantedtobeahero.“Whatdowedo?”


Itriedtopreventmyself

fromhyperventilatingagain,andtoslowmyracingheartbeat.Getittogether,Zane,Ithought.Inodded,thenrealizedSamcouldn’tseeme.“Okay,”Imanaged.“Let’sdoit.”



“Okay,”saidSam.“I’llpointthelightatthestairs.

Justfocusonthose,notthefloor.Holdontomybackpack,”hesaid,pullingittightoverbothshoulders.

Ibitmylipandgrabbedhisbag,tryingnottothinkaboutallthosesharplittleclawsandweirdnakedtailsandbeadyeyes.

“Onthree,okay?”saidSam,andIwassuddenlyoverwhelmedwithgratitudethatIhadafriendlikehim,someonewhocouldliterally

getmetoovercomemyworstfears.Focusonthat,Ithought.Focusonthegood.


WebothexhaledasSamslowlysteppedforward,slidinghisfeetalongthefloorunderneaththesquirmingmasses.Ifollowed,strugglingtoholdontohisbag,nearlytrippingdownthestairs.Asmysecondfootreachedthe

floor,Isqueezedmyeyeseventighterandfocusedonmatchingmybreathtotheshufflingofourfeet.IN.Slideright,slideleft.OUT.Slideright,slideleft.IN.Justslidingalong.OUT.Nothingcreepygoingon.

Then…beforeIknewit,Sam’sbackpackliftedaswesteppedontotheoppositestaircase.

Heturnedtome.“Youdidit!”heexclaimed.Ashe

huggedme,theflashlightcastweirdshadowsacrossthewalls.



Sampointedthelightup

atadoor,thenbowedandextendedhisarm.“Afteryou,”hesaid.“Youearnedit.”

MykneeswereweakasIclimbedintothelibrary’smainreadingroom.Ihadn’tbeentheresinceIwasalittlekid.Stacksofbooksmarchedoffinalldirections.Afewbookshelveshadbeenoverturned.Somebooksformedpilesinthecornerslikesnowdrifts.Otherswere

tornandstrewnaround,smashedbymuddyfootprints.Judgingfromthepilesofwrappersandcans,andthearticlesofoldclothingstrewnacrossthefurniture,weweren’ttheonlyoneswhohaddiscoveredawayin.Onthemarblefloorneartheexitweretheremnantsofanoldcampfire.

Ihadmixedfeelingsaboutthisplace,butwhateveryouthoughtoflibraries,there

wasnodenyingthatthisonewassad.Nobodyhadevenbotheredtosellorgiveawaythebooks.Thebuildinghadjustbeenabandoned.Eventhetransientsorlocalteenagerswho’dbrokeninovertheyearsdidn’tcareenoughtobotherwiththebooks—excepttousethemastinderforfires.

Inthecenteroftheroom,undertheornatedomedceiling,aten-foot-tallstatue

stoodonahighpedestal.Thefigureworeflowing

robes.Sheheldanopenbookinonehandlikeshewasabouttoreciteapoem.Herfacewasbeautifulbutstern.Herdarkhairfellinringletsaroundherface.

I’msureI’dseenthestatuebefore,butI’dneverpaiditmuchattention.NowIrealizedwhatitwas.




“Neverheardofher,”Iadmitted.“She’snotoneofthebiggods,Iguess.”


“It’sonlyastatue.”

“It’sastatueofagoddess,andthegodsarereal.She’soneoftheearlyTitandeities,oneofthegoodTitans.She’sthemotheroftheNineMuseswhooverseeallthearts:music,poetry,dancing,andwhatnot.Anyway,librariesareMnemosyne’ssacredplace.Herspiritisstronghere.Sheprotectsthisplace.”

Ilookedaroundattheruinedfurnitureandpilesoftrash.“She’sdoingagreat

job.”“Seriously,bemore

respectful.”Samglancedatthegoddess’sface.“Herpresencewillkeepthemonstersatbay.Atleast…itshould.We’llgetoursuppliestogether,resthereforthenight,andfigureoutournextmove.”


“Therewillalwaysbemoremonsters,”Samsaidgrimly.“Nowthatthey’velocatedyou,they’llneverstoptryingtokillyou.You’reademigod.Yourlife…well,fromhereonout,it’llbehard.ButI’llbewithyou.You’renotalone.”

IappreciatedSamsayingthat,butIwasstartingtoprocessthefactthatIcouldn’tgohome.Nottonight.Maybenotever.My

lifehadfundamentallychanged.Iwouldneverbeabletogobacktoanythingresemblingnormal.

Samapproachedthebaseofthestatue.Hepushedthebronzeplaqueinscribedwiththegoddess’sname.Thepedestalhissed,andthefrontpartswungopenlikearefrigeratordoor.

InsidewasalockeralmostastallasIwas.Ispottedtwohikingpackswith

bedrollsandwaterbottles.Andhangingonthebackwallofthecabinetwasasheathedswordwithabluegemglowingfaintlyonthepommel.

BeforeIcouldsayanything,aglasswindowshatteredbehindme.AlionevenbiggerthanMs.Rochecrashedthroughandlandedonlytenfeetaway.

“Thereyouare.”Thelion’svoicewasdefinitely

male.Hissnarlingfacewaswreathedinashaggygoldenmane.Hisfullyextendedclawsgleamedwhite.Heroseonhishaunches,whichonlymadehimlookscarier.“Youdestroyedmysister,”hesnarled.“NowIwilldestroyyou.”


“Weareleontes!”thelion

bellowed.“ThechildrenofAtalanta!Wealwayshuntinpairs.Normally,thefemalehasthehonorofthekill,butsinceyousentherbacktoTartarus—”

“Wait.”IwashopingifIboughtusalittletime,Samcouldgetusoutofthissomehow.Maybeoneofthepacksinthecabinetcontainedafewhandgrenadesorpossiblyabazooka.“Um,Mr.Lion…sorry,butIalwayslike

toknowwho’skillingme.Yousaidyou’reachildofwho?”

“Atalanta!”hecried.“ThemostfamousGreekheroine!Aglorioushunter.Thefastestofrunners.SheandourfatherHippomeneswerecursedbythatridiculouslovegoddessAphroditesimplybecausetheyforgottomakeafewsacrificesduringtheirweddingceremony.Aphroditechangedtheminto

lions!Eversince,wetheirdescendantshaveprowledtheworld,lookingforrevenge.Sincewecannotdestroythegods,wedestroytheirchildren!”

Iwasoutofmagicaltree-growinggoldcoins,soIglancedatSam,hopinghehadfoundabazooka.Sadly,hewasfrozeninterror.Hemayhavebeenmyself-proclaimedprotector,butatthemomenthewasaboutas

helpfulasthestatueofNemoSign.

“Well,Mr.Lion…”MyvoicesoundedassqueakyasMickeyMouse.“Icantellyou’reupset.But,uh,Idon’tevenknowthegods.Ididn’tknowIwasademigoduntillikeanhourago—”


Ilookedaroundfrantically.ShouldIgofor

thesword?Ortrytooutwitthelion?


Selectachoice:

SWORD

OUTWIT

“Let’swaitforanothercar.IreallythinkIcanconvincethenextpersonwhocomesby.”

Samnodded.“Okay,Itrustyou.Butyoucan’tscrewthisoneup!”

“Somuchfortrust!Don’tworry,Iwon’t.”

Iwalkedbacktothecenteroftheroadandscannedthehorizon,waiting,

tryingtoignorethesinkingfeelinginmystomach.Timewasrunningout.Whatifthat…thingcaughtus?Eachofitsclawswasnearlyasbigasmyhead.

“Zane!”Sampointeddowntheroadinthesamedirectionthelastcarhadcomefrom.

MyheartbeatfasterandIstartedwavingandjumpingupanddownasthecarapproached.Itwasasmall

stationwagondrivenbyanoldwoman—amuchbetteroption,Ithought.

Asthewomanslowedandstopped,Iranaroundtothedriver’ssidewindow.“Thankyouforstopping,”Isaid.“Weneedyourhelp.”

Thewomanpeeredatmeoversmallmetal-framedglassesbutkeptthewindowrolledup.Icontinued,undeterred.“MyfriendandIneedtogettothelibraryto

meetmymother.We’relate.Couldyougiveusaride?Please?It’scloseby.We’reverynice…”Shejuststaredatmewithsquishedoldwomaneyesandshookherhead.AsItrailedoff,shelookedbacktowardtheroadandthecarbeganrollingforward.

“No!”Isaid,walkingalongsidethecar,lookingnervouslyatthetreeline.Iknockedonthewindow,but

thatonlymadeherpressharderonthegaspedal.“We’reintrouble,ma’am.Please.Weneedhelp.Youhavetohelpus.”

“Zane?”saidSamnervously.“Look!”

Iwatchedinhorrorasthetreeswaveredandtheleontechargedout,runningtowardusatfullspeed.

Ibangedonthewindowhardernow.“Ma’am?Please.Letusin.”

Thecarspedup.Theleontegotcloser.

“We’retoast,”saidSam.“I’msorry!”Isaid,

joggingalongsidethecarnow,tryingtokeepup.Itwasgoingfasterandfaster,pullingawayfromus,leavingmepantinginthemiddleoftheroadastheleontegotwithinstrikingdistance.IscannedtheareaforaweaponIcoulduse,buttherewasn’tanything,notevenarockI

couldthrow.Thecardisappearedover

thehill.I’dfailedagain.Samlookedatmein

despair,thenturnedtotheleonteandraisedhisfists.

Suddenly,thegroundbegantorumbleandasmallwhitemetermaidcartzoomedup.Itmovedsofast,itmayaswellhavedroppedstraightfromthesky.

Theleontepulledupshortasamanwearingnavyshorts

andalightbluepoloshirtsteppedoutofthecarandraisedhishands.“Stop.BythepowersofOlympus,Icompelyoutoshowmercytothesetwo.”

Theleonteroareditsdispleasure,eyesnarrowing.

“Aren’tyouoneofthosepeoplewhogiveparkingtickets?”Isaid.

Themansmiledwearilyandranahandthroughhisthicksalt-and-pepperhair.“I

almostalwaysletpeopleoffwithawarning.”

Samsquintedasheexaminedthevehiclemoreclosely.“Areyouagod?”

“MynameisEleos.I’msortofan…uncleorcousinofthegods.Butifithelps,youcanthinkofmeasthegodofmercy.”

“Andyou’regoingtostopthisthingfromeatingus?”

Themanconsideredmeforamoment.Hiseyes,

whichhadappearedblackfromadistance,wereactually…notthere.IsuppressedashudderasIgazedintotheemptysockets.“Yes,”hesaid.“Therearegreatthingsinstoreforyou—ifyoulive.Butthisisaone-timedeal.Mercyisrareinthisworld.Mostpeoplearen’tluckyenoughtomeetmeatall.”

HeonceagainraisedhishandstotheleonteandI

suddenlynoticedthattheywerethreetimesthesizetheyshouldhavebeen.“Run,”hecommanded.“You’veshowntheseyoungpeoplenocompassion,andIhavenoneforyou.”

Theleontegrowled,baringhisteethandcrouchingasiftostrike.

Eleostookanotherstepforward.“Go,”hesaid.“Now.”

Theleontelookedatthe

hands,glancedatus,growledhisannoyance,thenhigh-taileditfortheforest.

Eleosturnedtome.Heseemedwearyagain.“Takecarewithyourdecisions,younghero,”hesaid.“Youwon’tgetanotherchancelikethis.Nowgo.TheleontewillbebacksoonafterIleave.”

“Thanks,”saidSam.“Noproblem,”saidEleos,

thenclimbedintohiscartandzoomedoff.

“Nevergonnathinkaboutmetermaidsthesamewayagain,”Imuttered.

“Weneedtogo,”saidSam.“Now:Sticktothewoodsandtrytojumptheriver,orfixthebridge?”

Selectachoice:

WOODS

BRIDGE

MyDemonSatyrTeaParty

“Food,”Samgasped.“Need…food.”

Iglancedatthediner’sclockandrolledmyeyes.“Bepatient.Weonlyorderedfiveminutesago.”

SamandIhadarrivedinAustin,Texas,halfanhourearlier.Weweretiredandhungry.Oneofus—threeguesseswho—smelledlikeagoat.We’dboughtastreetmapofthecityandthenmadeabeelineforthenearestrestaurant,atinyplacecalledXenia.Iwasdyingforasteamingpepperonipizza,butthemenuwaslimitedtoBBQ,BBQ,and…moreBBQ.WheninAustin…

“DidyouknowthatxeniaisancientGreekforhospitality?”Samcommented.

Tomysurprise,Idid.ThoughwhyIknewanancientGreekwordwasamysterytome.

Iunfoldedthemapandsmootheditoutonthetable.“Sothisiswhereweare,”Isaid,pointingtoasmalldot.“AndIthinkweneedtogohere.”Itappedasecond,

smallerdotmarkedBartonSpringsPool.

GettingtoAustinhadtakenusawhile,sinceinstantteleportationwasapparentlynotoneofmydemigodpowers.Instead,we’dtakenthebus.

Wecouldn’teventakeadirectroutetoAustin.Saminsistedwezigzagaround.

“Tothrowothermonsters

offourtrail,”he’dsaid.“Whatothermonsters?”He’drattledoffalong

list,completewithcolorfuldescriptions.Eachsoundedmoredeadlythantheonebeforeit.I’dwavedmyhandstostophim.“Okay,Igetit.Zigzagitis.”

Duringthebusride,ouronlysustenancewasstuffwe’dscoredfromvendingmachines—abagofchips,asleeveofcookies,abottleof

soda.Iatethefood.Samwolfeddownthewrappersandtheplasticbottle.

“Doyoualwayseattrash?”I’dasked,morecuriousthandisgusted.

“Youthinkwhat’sinsidethepackagingisanybetter?”

Hehadapoint.Someofthoseingredientssoundedasdeadlyasthemonsters.

Therestofourjourneywas

uneventful…mostly.WhileIwasintherestroomatthebackofthebus,thehandsanitizerdispenserexploded.Atonestop,Iputaquarterinapinballmachineandthethingstarteddinging,flashing,andsmokinglikeitwashavinganervousbreakdown.(Ibarelytouchedit,Iswear!)Ialsohadalittlemisunderstandingwithadogwalkerandaflowervendor.Thelesssaidaboutthat,the

better.Thentherewasthatweird

flashoflightinthesky,butthatwasprobablyjustareflectionoffacarorsomething.

Yeah.I’mgoingwithreflection.

Oh,andtherewasthisreallyweirdthingwiththeswordI’dpickedupinthelibrary.Samkeptinsistingthatweneededtokeepitwithusforprotection.Ikept

insistingthatweweregoingtoendupinjail.

IwaveditinSam’sface.“Howexactlydoyoutravelinpublicwithanenormousbronzesword?”Thenbam!Insteadofasword,Iwasholdingafold-uptraveltoothbrush.Istaredatit,thenshoveditintomybackpack.Itdidn’tmakesense,butIwaslearningthatbeingademigodmeanthavingtoexpecttheunexpected.

“Hereyougo,young’uns.”OurwaitresshadaTexastwang,awidesmile,andanametagthatreadB.Shesetdownourmeals—apileoflettuceforSamandaBBQsandwichwithamoundofsteakfriesforme.

Shecamebackwithtwotallglassesofsweetteaandnoddedatourmap.“FirsttimeinAustin?”

Samgaveanervousbleat.Irememberedthenthathe’d

beeninAustinbefore.He’dimpliedthatthingshadn’tgonewell,buthe’drefusedtogivemeanydetails.

“Yes,ma’am,”Ianswered.“We’retryingtogettotheBartonSpringsPool.”

“That’sinZilkerPark.There’sabusthatgoesthereviatheCongressAvenueBridge.Oryoucouldtakeataxi,ifyou’vegotthemoney.”Sheeyedourclothes

andbackpacksasifshedoubtedthatwasanoption.“Oryoucouldwalk.It’snottoofar.”Shetookapenciloutofherapronpocketandtracedarouteonourmap.

“B!”thecookcalledfromthekitchen.“Orderup!”

“Coming,Phil!”Thewaitresstuckedawayherpencil.“Youkidswantanythingelse,justholler,youhear?Bytheway,unlimitedfreerefillsondrinks!”She

trundledoff.Samstaredafterher.

“Thismaysoundfar-fetched,butyourememberhowIsaidxeniawasGreekforhospitality?”

“Yeah.”“Well,there’sthisold

story…ZeusandHermesdisguisedthemselvesashumansandvisiteddifferentpeopletoseewhowouldgivethemshelter.Abunchofrichfolksturnedthemaway.Then

theycametoanold,poorcouple.Thiscouplehadnothing,buttheywelcomedthegodswithopenarms.Asareward,thegodsenchantedthecouple’spitchersoitwouldneverbeempty.”

“So?”“So,”Samsaid,“theold

woman’snamewasBaucis.Theman’swasPhilemon.”

Ittookmeamomenttocatchon.“YouthinkBisBaucis,andPhilthecookis

Philemon?”Istaredatthewaitress

andthecook.Itriedtoimaginetheywerethousandsofyearsold—charactersfromGreekmythology.Iwasn’tgoodatguessingadults’ages,buttheydidn’tlookthatancient.

“Notallthemythicalbeingsyoumeetwillbeevil,”Samsaid.“Atleast,Ihopenot.Thisplacemightbearefugefordemigods,inwhich

casewegotlucky.OrthenamesBandPhilcouldjustbeacoincidence.Still”—Samliftedhistea—“unlimitedfreerefills,youknow?”

Idecidednottoargue.Samforkedmorelettuceintohismouth.Idugintomysandwich.

“WhatdoyouthinkaboutgettingtoZilkerPark?”Iasked.“Shouldwewalk?”

Sampickedupasteakfryfromtheplateinthemiddle

ofthetable.Ketchupdrippedfromthetip.Heeyeditwithdistaste.

“Somethingwrong?”Iasked.

“Itkindalookslikeabloodyfinger,doesn’tit?”Samreturnedtheoffendingpotatototheplate.

“Thanks,Sam,”Isaid.“You’rejustfullofgoodcheer.”

“Sorry.Austinfreaksmeout.Thecannibalswholive

here—”Itwasmyturntogag.

“Whoa.Backup.Cannibals?Asinpeoplewhoeatpeople?”

Iglancedaroundattheotherpatronsinthediner.Theyseemednormalenough.Thenagain,sohadmyguidancecounselorbeforesheturnedintoalionessandtriedtokillme.ForallIknew,theseTexansweremunchingonman-burgers

withpicklesandspecialsauce.

“No,nothumancannibals,”Samclarified.“Demonsatyrs.”

“Oh,that’smuchbetter.”“Awholepackofthem

livesunderneaththeCongressAvenueBridge.Theyattackandeatothersatyrsiftheygetthechance.”

Thepiecesfellintoplace.“That’swhyyouhateAustin.Thelasttimeyouwerehere,

theyalmostmadeyouintoshish-ka-Sam.”

“Yeah.IthappenedwhileIwaswatchingthebats.”

“Bats.Right.What?”Ishuddered.IhaveaterriblephobiaofratsthatalmostgotuskilledwhenwewenttoseeMnemosyne.Icouldn’timaginehavingtofaceflyingrats.

“There’sahugebatcolony—hundredsofthousandsofthem.Theylive

inthenooksbeneaththebridge.Peoplecomefromallovertowatchthemflyoutatsunset.It’sprettyamazing,actually—anenormousflutteringblackcloudthatcoversthesky.Andthegossipyoucangetfromthatmanybats—”

Icuthimoff,desperatelytryingnottofreakout.“Youspeakbat?”

Helookedatmeblankly.“Ofcourse.Anyway,Iwasso

busywatchingthebatsIdidn’tseethisdemonsatyr.Hesnuckuponmefrombehindagroupofcamera-totingtourists.OnceInoticedhim”—heswallowedhard—“IknewIwasinbigtrouble.Redslitsforeyes,nopupils.Hot,foulbreath,likeweek-oldroadkillrottinginthesun.Fangsandblood-splotchedfur.Definitelyameat-eater.Andthedudewashuge.Ifsatyrswerecandy

bars,he’dbeking-sizetomyfun-size.”Herubbedhisfacewithhishandsasiftowashawaytheimage.“Honestly,IthoughtIwasagoner.”

“Whatdidyoudo?”“Iran.AndIkeptrunning

until…”Hepaused,embarrassmentcloudinghisface.

“Untilwhat?”“Itripped,okay?Itwas

humiliating.Imean,I’masatyr.We’reknownforbeing

nimble,andthereIam,trippingovermyownhooves.Tomakemattersworse,Ifellintoastreetvendor’scart.”Heshookhisheadinself-disgust.“Thevendorwasgivingoutfreesamplesoftea.Thelittlepapercupsfleweverywhere.Anyonestandingnearbygotshowered.”

“Whathappenedtothesatyr?”

Samscratchedhishead.“I’mnotsure.Iheardhim

bellowonce.Maybehewaslaughingatme.MaybehewasfrustratedbecauseI’dgottentheattentionofsomanywitnesses.WhenIlookedback,hehadvanished.Ivanished,too.GottheheckoutofAustinassoonasIcould.That’stheclosestI’veevercometodeath.Istillhavenightmares.I—IsworeI’dnevercomebackhere.”

Guiltwashedoverme.“Butnow,thankstome,

you’rehereagain.”Samreachedacrossthe

tableandgrabbedmyhand.“Listencarefully,becauseI’monlygoingtosaythisonce.Iamyourprotector.Whereyougo,Igo.Endofstory.Gotit?”

Iheldhisgaze.“Igotit.Butthat’snottheendofthestory.Youmaybemyprotector,butyou’realsomybestfriend.Youhavemyback;Ihaveyours.Okay?”

Samhesitated,thennodded.“IsupposeIcanlivewiththat.”

“Good.Thenhere’stheplan.”

Selectachoice:

WALK

BUS

“We’regonnawalk.We’llavoidtheCongressAvenueCannibalSatyrBridgeandfollowadifferentroutetotheBartonSpringsPool.We’llgetanswersfromthisrivergod,Barton.Thenwe’llgetoutofAustin.Problemsolved.”

Itriedtosoundconfident.MaybestayingawayfromthebridgewouldkeepSamsafe.

Maybeitwouldn’t.HowdidIknow?Iwasstilllearningtherulesofthedemigodworld.Butrightnow,mynumberonerulewasmakingsureSamdidn’tendupasthemaincourseonthedemonsatyrmenu.

OurroutetoZilkerParktookusthroughthismassivecollegecampusthatSamtoldmewastheUniversityof

Texas.Foracollegecampus,itwaseerilyquiet,butwefiguredthathadsomethingtodowiththe“GameDay”and“Hook’emHorns”signseverywhere.

“Mustbeafootballgame,”Samsaid.

“Orthey’veallgonefishing…”

Sinceitwasaboutamilliondegreesoutside,westoppedtorestatathree-tieredfountainwithabig

bronzestatueinthemiddle.Awingedladyinflowingrobesheldaloftaburningtorchinonehandandabunchoflaurelleavesintheother.Shestoodinachariotdrawnbythreefish-tailedhorses.Bronzepointy-eareddudesrodethehorsesbareback.(Actually,justabouteverythingaboutthedudeswasbare.)

“Letmeguess,”Isaid.“MoreGreekstuff?”

Samshrugged.“Sortof.ThisistheLittlefieldFountain.Thosehalf-horse,half-fishcreaturesarehippocampi.They’reprettyfriendly.”

Itriedtowrapmymindaroundthefactthathalf-horse,half-fishcreaturescouldbereal,muchlessfriendly.“Andthewomanthereisagoddess?”

Samseesawedhishand.“Technically,no.She’s

Columbia.ShewasthesymbolofAmericanindependenceuntilol’LibertasplantedherselfinNewYorkHarbor.”

Rightbehindme,Iheardanindignanthrumph.Iturned,butnoonewasthere.SamandIwerealonebythefountain.Samdidn’tlooklikehe’dheardanything.IdecidedImust’veimaginedit.

“Libertas,”Isaid.“Uh,

youmeantheStatueofLiberty?”

“Yeah.Littleknownfact:theStatueofLibertydoesn’trepresenttheRomangoddessofliberty.SheistheRomangoddessofliberty.”

Iblinked.“Wait,youmean—”

“Yep.”“—thathugegreenstatue

isaliving,breathing—”“Well,Idon’tknowabout

breathing.Butliving?Yeah.

GreenGirlisanactualgoddess.GotherselfanislandrightoutsidethemostpowerfulcityinAmerica,whereshecankeepaneyeonthings.Afterthathappened,theoldsymbolofliberty,Columbia,kindoffadedfromthescene.”

Ilookedatthebronzeplaqueaffixedtothefountain.“Brevisanaturanobis.That’sLatin,right?”

Samnodded.“Canyou

translateit?”Histonewascasual,buthisexpressionwasintense,asifmyanswermattered.

“Idon’thaveto.It’swritteninEnglishrighthere:AshortlifehathbeengivenbyNatureuntoman,”Irecited.“Buttheremembranceofalifelaiddowninagoodcauseendurethforever.”

“Mmm.”Samfocusedonclouds.“Iwouldn’tmindmy

lifebeingrememberedforever.Dyingforagoodcause.”

“Yeah,”Ireplied.“Butinthemeantime,ifwecouldavoidmakingourshortlivesevenshorter—”

“Thatwouldbegood,”heagreed.

IstudiedthebronzefaceofColumbia,theretirednot-quite-goddessofliberty.Ihadafeelingtherewassomethingimportantaboutthestatue…

somethingIwasn’tquitegetting,butIdecideditwastimetokeepmoving.

WhenwefinallyarrivedatZilkerPark,wewovethroughhordesofsunbathersandpicnickerstogettothecentralattraction.BartonSpringsPoolwasgigantic—athousandfeetlongandaboutonehundredfiftyfeetwide.Accordingtoonesign,itwas

morethaneighteenfeetdeepinsomeplaces.Concretewalkwaysstretchedthepool’slength,withstairsleadingintothewater,butthebottomofthepoollookedmorelikeariverbed,withmossyrocksandevensomefishswimmingaround.Thewholeareawassurroundedbygrassyslopesandshadetrees.

SeeingallthatsparklingclearwaterremindedmeofhowgrubbyIfelt.

WhenSamproducedtwoswimsuitsfromhisbackpack,Icouldhavekissedhim.(FYI,Ididn’t.)

“Ifyouwanttomeetagod,”Samsaid,“you’vegottaswimwherethegodsare.”

Fiveminuteslaterweweresplashinginthepool.ThewaterfeltsowonderfulthatforamomentIforgoteverythingelse.Thenrealitybitmeonthebutt.

“SeeBartonanywhere?”

Samasked.“What’shelooklike?”“Sortof…godly.”“Oh,that’shelpful.”Butthenextsecond,I

spottedaguywhodid,infact,lookgodly.Loungingatthewater’sedgewasamuscular,tannedtwenty-somethingmanwithslickblackhair,aviatorsunglasses,andateenySpeedothatseemedmoldedtohisbody.Hisskinpositivelyglowedin

thesunlight.WhileSamwasunderwater,havingwhatlookedlikeanintenseconversationwithaguppy,Iwadedovertothesunbatherguy.

“Hi,um,areyouagod?”Themansmiledsmugly.

“I’vebeentoldsomanytimes.”

“Great.Listen,ifyoucouldjusttellmeaboutmymomordad,I’llbeonmyway.”

Therivergodyawned,thentiltedhisperfectfacetothesunlikedhe’dalreadyforgottenaboutme.

Okay,Ithought,nowwhat?

ThenIrememberedtherespectfulwaySamhadaddressedMnemosyne.Maybethat’swhatIneededtodotogetBarton’sattention.

Ibowed.“Omightyone,I—Ibegyoutoanswermy

query.IpleadwithyoutobestowuponmetheinformationIseek.Ibeseechyouto—”

“Kid,”thegodinterrupted,“Idon’tknownothingaboutyourmomordad.Nowbeatit.You’reblockingthesun.”

“But—but—”“Hey,Zane!”Samcalled.Samhadsurfacedonthe

oppositesideofthepool.Hewasnowstandinginthe

shallowswithaguywholookedlikeanaginghippie.Sambeckonedtomewithamortifiedexpression,likeWhatareyoudoing?Getoverhere!

Iswamover.Thehippiewaschuckling

andshakinghishead.“Didyoujustbeseechthatguy?‘Omightyone’?Whotalkslikethat?”Hisvoicewaslowandrumbling,likebouldersrollinginadeepcurrent.

“Who—?Wait.”IlookedatSam.“Whydidyoucallmeover?Whoisthisoldguy?”

Samwinced.“Zane,Speedo-manoverthereisn’tBarton.”Hejerkedhisthumbatthehippie.“Thisis.”

Mythroatfeltlikeseveralguppieswerewrigglingaroundinit.

Therivergodwas…underwhelming.Hishairhungintwoskinnygraybraidsunderabatteredblack

cowboyhat.Hiscrookedteethwereaboutasmossyasthebottomofthepool.Histie-dyedKEEPAUSTINWEIRDT-shirtbarelycoveredhispotbelly,andhisbaggygreenshortsweredecoratedwithtinypicturesofaquaticcreatures.

“Um…”Itriedtoswallow.“You’reBarton?”

“Actually,it’sBrykhon,”therivergodcorrected.“SonoftheTitanOceanus.Allyof

theGiantsinthewaragainstthegods.Pickedthewrongside,asitturnsout,butthat’sallwaterunderthebridge.”Hesmiledatme.“Howdy,hero!Youandyourfriendcomewithmesowecanhaveusaprivatechat.”

Hedissolvedintothewater,thenreappearedatthebaseofanoaktreenearthefarendofthepool.NormallyIwouldn’tfollowastranger,especiallynotonewho

dissolvedintoliquid,butSamsaid,“Comeon,let’sgo!”

IfiguredBarton/Brykhoncouldn’tbetoobad,whatwiththesmileandthepotbellyandthelittleaquaticcreaturesonhisshorts.

SamandIswamafterhim.Brykhonhadmadehimselfcomfortablebetweentherootsofthetree,danglinghisfeetinthewater.“Hottoday,eh?”

Thenhetookoffhishat

andIjustaboutleapedoutofmyswimsuit.

“Yikes!”Twopointedhorns

sproutedfromhisthinninggrayhair.

“Relax,”Samsaid.“He’sapotamus,arivergod.Checkouthislowerhalf.”

Myeyeswidened.IwassureI’dseenhumanlegsamomentbefore,butnowBrykhon’slowerhalfwasallfish—ascalytrunkwitha

hugegreentailfinfloppingaroundinthepool.

“How—”Ifaltered.“Youweren’tamermanasecondago,wereyou?”

“It’stheMist,littlehero.”Brykhongavemeanothermossygrin.“There’samagicalveilthatdisguisesthetrueappearanceofgodsandmonstersandstuff.Nowthatyou’restartingtoacceptthefactthatyou’reademigod,you’llbeabletoseethrough

itmoreandmoreoften.Mostofthetime,anyway.”

“But—”Brykhonsuddenlylunged

towardthewaterandsnatchedupahalf-emptybagofDoritosthatwasfloatingby.

“Humans,”Brykhonsaidwithdisgust.“They’vemadesuchamessofmywater.Seetheselittlepicturesonmyshorts?”

“Um,youdon’thave

shortsanymore.Youturnedintoafishperson.”

Brykhonfrowned.“Oh,right.Well,ifyoucouldseethem,you’dseetheBartonSpringssalamander.Endangeredspecies!Myspringistheonlyplaceintheworldwheretheylive.Usedtobetonsofthem.Now…?”

Hemadeastrangeburblingsound.Atinyspeckledsalamanderleapedoutofthewaterandintohis

hand.“Now,becauseofpollution,thespeciesisnearlyextinct.IdowhatIcantosavethem,but…”Heshookhisheadwearily.Thesalamanderskitteredoffintothewater.

Wewereallquietforamoment.IfeltbadaboutbeingpartofaspeciesthatkilledendangeredsalamanderswithNacho-flavoredDoritos,butIwasn’tsurewhattosay.

FinallyBrykhonsighed.“Enoughaboutthat.I’mguessingMnemosynesentyouheretolearnaboutyourparentage,notaboutmysalamander.”

Athrillshotupmyspine.Thiswasthemomentoftruth!Iwasabouttodiscoverthefactsaboutmybirth—whatpowersImighthave,whatmyfuturemighthold,whatmydestiny—

“I’mafraidtheoldgirl

steeredyouinthewrongdirection,”saidBrykhon.

Knowthatsoundacarmakeswhenitcomestoascreechinghalt?That’swhatIheardinmyhead.

Sambleatedinprotest.“Whatdoyoumean?Mnemosynesaidyouhadanswers!”

Brykhonarchedhiseyebrows.“Didshe?Whatexactlydidshesay?”

Thegoddess’swords

camebacktome.“GotoAustin,”Irepeated.“SeekouttherivergodBarton.”

Thegodinspectedhisgrimyfingernails.“Nothingaboutmetellingyouaboutyourgodlyparent?”

SamandIexchangedlooks.

“Well,no,”Iadmitted.“Butifyoudon’thavetheanswers,why’dwecometoAustininthefirstplace?”

“BecauseAustinisthe

hidingplaceofapowerfulmagicitem,”Brykhonsaid.“AndIknowwhereitis.Longago,thegodsdecreedthatonlythenextgreatherocouldobtainthisitem.Succeedinretrievingit,andyou’llreceiveacluetoyourparentage.”HeturnedhisgazetoSam.“Unfortunately,gettingtheiteminvolvesrisktoyou,mysatyrfriend.”

Samturnedwhite.“Oh,no.”

“Oh,yes.”Brykhonnoddedgrimly.“Theitemliesinthelairofthedemonsatyrs.Andthey’renotlikelytogiveitupwithoutafight.”

SamandImadeourwaybacktotheLittlefieldFountain,ourdampswimsuitsandthebagofDoritodust(“Imightgethungrylater,”Samsaiddefensively)stowedinhis

backpack.Brykhonhadn’tofferedanycluesabouthowtodefeatthedemonsatyrs.Hewouldn’teventellusexactlywhatthismysteriousmagicitemwas.Heclaimednottoknow.Iwasn’tsureIbelievedhim,butwhatIbelieveddidn’tmatter.Wewereonourown.

“Let’sthinkthisthrough,”Isaid.“Whatdoweknowaboutthedemonsatyrs?”

“Well,”Sammused,

“they’redemons.Andthey’resatyrs.Oh,andtheyeatothersatyrs,didImentionthat?”

Ibeganpacing.“Whatelsedoyourememberfromthetimeyousawone?”

“Youmeanbesidesabjectterror?”

Istaredathim,thinkinghard.“Yousaidthedemonsatyrbellowedandthenvanishedafteryoucollidedwithastreetvendor.Sam,whatwasthatguyselling?”

“Sweettea.Itsplashedeverywhere,and…”Sam’seyeswidened.“Youthinktheteadidsomethingto—”

“Maybe.Maybenot.Butifitdid—”

“Whatarewewaitingfor?”Samshottohishooves.“Let’sgetsometeaandwastesomedemons!”

“Sam,holdup!Wecan’tjustwaltzinandstartemptyingteabottlesonthem.”

“Whynot?”“Whatifitdoesn’twork?

Youreallywanttobesurroundedbyapackofwet,angrycannibalsatyrs?”

Hesatdownwithathud.“Well,whenyouputitthatway…”

“Wedon’tknowforsurewhethertheteakilledthedemonsatyrorjustscareditawayor—”

“Iknow,”trilledafemalevoicebehindme.

Iwhirled,butnoonewasthere.

“Yoo-hoo!Uphere,silly.”ThestatueofColumbiawavedherfrondatme.Herbronzefacecreakedasshesmiled.“Hello!”

Iresistedtheurgetorunawayscreaming.“Um,hi?”

Samrosetohishoovesagain.Heboweddeeplytothestatue.“Goddess,forgiveusfornotacknowledgingyousooner!”

“Yousaidshewasn’tagoddess,”Iwhispered.

Heelbowedme.“Justfollowmylead,willyou?”Hestraightenedandfoldedhishandsoverhisheart,“Please,Goddess,Ibeseechyoutoshareyourwisdom!”

“Oh,soit’sokayforyoutousebeseech?”Imutteredundermybreath.ButIfiguredI’dbettergoalongwithit.Ibowed.“Yeah,um,Ibeseechyou,too.”

Acoupleofstudentspassedby,buttheydidn’tseemtonoticethelivingstatue.TheyjustsmirkedatSamandmeandkeptwalking.MaybeAustinhadalotofcrazypeoplewhotalkedtostatues.

“SamGreenwood.”Columbiasaidhisnamelikeitwasthemostbeautifulphraseintheworld.“Itissogoodtoseeyouagain.Irememberyourfirstvisitto

Austinwell!”“Um,youdo?”Sam

asked.“Ofcourse!Iwasoutfor

aquickflywiththebatsthatnight.”

“You…flywiththebats?”Iasked.“Nevermind.Ofcourseyoudo.”

“Yes!”saidthestatue.“ThatwinglessoldbiddyLibertascan’tfly,youknow.Hmph!Atanyrate,IwascirclingovertheCongress

AvenueBridgewhenIsawthehandsomestsatyr—Imeanyou,ofcourse—beingchasedbyoneofthosebloodthirstyAethiopiansatyrs!”

“Awhatnow?”Iasked.“That’sthetechnicalterm

forthem,”Samsaid.“Nowssshhh.Please,greatgoddess,goon!”

“Well,ofcourseIwouldhaveintervened,butIdidn’thavetime!”Columbiasaid.

“Thedemonicbeasthadhismouthwideopen,readytotakeabiteoutofyourcutelittlefurrybehindwhenyoubravelytrippedoverthatvendor’scart,andthemonstergotabigmouthfuloftea.Poof!Bye-bye,demon!”Shewavedherfrondagain.“Iwasdelightedtoseehimdestroyed.Onelessevilgoat-mantosullythewatersofmyfountain.Onemuchmoreadorablesatyrtovisitme.”

Sheflutteredhereyelidsandgiggled.

“Dude,”Iwhispered,tryingnottolaugh.“Shelikesyou.”

“Shedoesnot!”Samblushedtothetipsofhishorns.“Listen,Columbiajustgaveusthebreakweneed.SweetteavaporizesAethiopiansatyrs!Nowallwehavetodoisgetsomeandwastethem!”

Columbiaclearedher

bronzethroat.“Ah,buttheymustdrinkit,myveryhandsomegoat-man.Dousingthemwithteaisnotenough.”

“Thenwegetsquirtguns,”Samsaidconfidently.Hepretendedtoshoot.“Pew!Pew!Pew!Rightbetweentheirlips!”

“Nogood,”Isaid.“You’dhavetobeaperfectshot,andthenthey’dhavetoswallowthetea.Besides,yousaidtherewasawholecolonyof

thesethings.Evenifyoudissolvedoneortwosatyrs,theotherswouldfigureoutwhatwasup.They’djustkeeptheirmouthsshutandslaughterus.”

Samloweredhisfingergun.“So…whatdowedo?”

IreachedintomyleftfrontpocketandremovedthegiftI’dgottenfromMnemosyne.“Maybethiscanhelpus?”Isaid.

“Doyouknowwhatit

does?”askedSam.“Notaclue,”Isaid,then

raisedthelibrarycardandswipeditintheairlikeacreditcard.

Nothinghappened.Isortofwaveditaround.

“Alakazam.”Zip.“Isthereanythingwritten

onit?”askedSam.Iexamineditagain.

“Nothinghelpful.”Samshrugged.“Maybe

we’renotsupposedtouseityet.”

“Maybenot.”Ishovedthecardbackintomypocket,thenturnedtoColumbia.

“Goddess,whatdidyoumeanabouttheevilgoat-mensullyingyourwaters?Dotheycomeheretodrink?”

“Todrink.Tobathe.Toscrubtheirnastyfeet!Everynightwhenthebatsfly.Samebat-time,samebat-channel.”

Iwasn’tsurewhatthat

meant,butIstaredatthewatergushingfromthefountain,splashingoverthesnoutsofthebronzehorses.

“Whyhere?”Iasked.“Don’ttheyliveunderabridgenexttoariver?Whynotbatheanddrinkthere?”

Samshuddered.“Youdon’twanttodrinkfromthatriver,Zane.”

“No,indeed,”Columbiaagreed.“Thiswaterispureandsanctifiedbymy

presence.Also,it’sfluorinatedtopreventcavities.”

Isnappedmyfingers.“That’stheanswer,then!”

“Fluorination?”askedSam.

“No!Wemixicedteaintothefountainwater!”

Samglancednervouslyatthebronzehorses.“Idon’tknowifthehippocampiwillgoforthat.Theyalreadylookprettyangrytome.”

“Oh,don’tworryaboutmyhorses,”Columbiasaid.“Yourideahasmerit!Afewgallonsofsweetteashoulddoit,iftheyaredumpedinjustbeforesunset.”

IbowedagaintoColumbia.“Sowehaveyourpermission,OGoddess?”

“Ononecondition.IfyouevergettoNewYorkCity,promisetogototheStatueofLibertyandyellColumbiaRules!asloudasyoucan.

Shehatesthat.”Iwasalittleconcerned

aboutwhatLibertasmightdotome,butInodded.“Promise.Oncethesatyrsaredestroyed,they’llneversullyyourwatersagain.ThenSamandIcanfindthemagicitemweneedfromtheirlair.”

Samrubbedhishandstogether.“Great.Now,whereshouldwegetthattea?”

Igrinned.“Ihappentoknowaplacethatoffersfree

refills.”“TheXeniaDiner?You

thinkBwillhelpus?”“Worthashot!”

“Ihopethisworks,”Samwhispered.

Itwasalmostsunset.Theareaaroundthefountainhadclearedout.IguessmostoftheUTstudentswerebackintheirdorms.ArmedwithapitcherprovidedbyBand

Phil,webeganpouringsweeticedteaintothefountain.Sureenough,nomatterhowlongwepoured,thepitcherneverwentempty.Wecouldeasilyhaveoverflowedthefountain,butthenthebronzehippocampigaveasnort,whichwasourwarningsignal.

Istirredthewaterwithmyhand,hopingthedemonsatyrswouldn’tnoticetheicecubesfloatingaroundthe

horses’hooves.ThenSamandIhunkereddownbehindabenchtowait.

“Let’sgoovertheplanagain,”Iwhispered.“One:demonsatyrsdrinkfromthefountain.Two:wemakesuretheyallgetvaporized.Three:weheadtothebridgetofindthemagicitem.Four…”

Myvoicetrailedoff.Sambithislip.Neitherofusknewwhatwouldhappenatstepfour.Hopefullythere

wouldn’tbeanysatyrsleftbackatdemonsatyrheadquarters.Hopefullywe’dfindthemagicitem,anditwouldgivemesomeanswers.

“Whenwegettothebridge,”Samsaid,“besuretostickclosetome.Therecouldbehundredsofpeoplethere.Wedon’twanttogetseparated.”

Warningbellswentoffinmyhead.“Sam…ifthere’sacrowdofmortalslikethatat

thebridgeeverynight,howdidthedemonsatyrzeroinonyou?”

“Heprobablysmelledme.Monsterscansmellsatyrs,anddemigods,and—”

“Sam,ifthedemonsatyrcouldsmellyouinahugecrowd,won’ttheypickupyourscentheretonight?”

Sam’seyeswidenedwithpanic.“Ididn’tthink—itneveroccurredtome—blah-ah-ah!Blah-ah-ah!”He

bleatedinterror.“We’vegottogetoutof

here!”“Toolate!”hemoaned.

“Look!”Inthegrowinggloom,a

dozenshadowyfigurescrepttowardthefountain.Theywalkedhunchedover,sortoflikegorillas,exceptgorillasdidn’thaveclovenfeet—orglowingredeyes.Thebiggestdemonsatyrstraightenedandsniffedtheair.Hishead

swiveledinourdirection,hisslittedrubyeyessearchingthedark.

Nexttome,Samshivered.“Allmyfault,”hewhimpered,histoneanguished.“Ishould’veknown.”Hetensed,readytoflee.

“Don’tmove,”Ihissed.“Yourunandthey’llgetyou!”

Samstayedput,butIcouldsensehisterror

growing.Anotherdemonliftedits

headandsniffed.Samlookedatme,eyes

wide.“Ifwedon’trun,”hewhispered,“you’llhavetoeitherfightthemoroutsmartthem.”

Doyouhaveanyideas?”“None,”whisperedSam.

“Zero.Andyougottadecidenow.”

Ipeekedoverthebenchandsawthehulkingmonsters

allraisingtheirheadsnow,allsniffingtheair.Timewasup.

Iwentwithmygut.

Selectachoice:

FIGHT

OUTSMART

“Wetakethebus.”Iheldupmyhandtostophimbeforeheprotested.“Thebusgoesoverthebridge,andwe’llbesurroundedbyotherpeopleatalltimes.Plus,wedon’tknowiftherearemoredemonsatyrsinAustin,andIreallydon’twanttoaccidentallystumbleonanotherlair.Thisway,wegetinandoutasfastaspossible.”

Itriedtosoundconfident.SamhadbeenonedgesincewereachedTexasandrightnow,mynumberonerulewasmakingsurehedidn’tendupasthemaincourseonthedemonsatyrmenu.Gettingthisdonequicklywasourbestshot,andstayingoffthestreetswasawelcomebonus.

Bwaskindenoughtogiveus

directionstotheclosestbusstop,onlyafewblocksaway.Aswehuddledunderthetoo-smallawning,fightingforeveryinchofshade,wewatchedthetrafficstarttopickup,thecarsalldeckedoutinorangeandwhite—streamers,flags,bumperstickers…

Eventually,adark-windowedcharterbuspulledupwithagiant“GreekWeek”bannerhangingonits

side.Thedoorsslidopenandwewerehitwithawaveofrockmusicandairconditioningastwoguyspeekedout.Onewastallandclean-cut,wearingawhiteT-shirtwithorangeGreeklettersonitandabatteredLonghornsbaseballcap.Theotherguy’sfacewascoveredinstubble,matchinghisdisheveledhair,glassyeyes,andnoticeablelackofshoes.Hisbarechestwaspainted

withagiantwhite“X.”“Thisthem?”Baseball

Hatasked.Ifeltapangofjealousy—withthatdimpledsmirkandsoutherndrawl,he’dclearlyneverhadaproblemtalkingtogirls.

“Idon’tremember,man.Wejustswore’emin.”DirtyGuyslurpedfromaredSolocup.“Ask’emapledgequestion.”

BaseballHatclearedhisthroat.“What’sthefirstletter

oftheGreekalphabet?”Ipaused,becausethe

questionseemedtooeasy.“Um…alpha?”

“Alriiiight!It’sthem,man!”DirtyGuydownedhiscupandgesturedforustogetonthebus.HestaredatSamforabeatbeforethrowinghisrightarmintheairandmakingaY-shapewithhisfingers.“HOOK’EMHORNS!!!”

Iturnedmybodytotalk

semi-privatelywithSam.“Isthat,like,asecretsatyrsign?”

Samlookedconcerned.“I’veneverseenthatinmylife.Idon’tthinkthisistherightbus.”

“Ofcourseit’snotthe‘right’bus.Butmaybeit’sabetterbus—agiftfromthegods?”Igesturedatthebus,theshirts.“Imean,they’rewearingGreekletters.Thebussays‘GreekWeek.’It’sairconditioned.Andthey’ve

gotwater.”Igesturedatthenow-crumpledcupthatDirtyGuyhadtossedontheground.

Samsighedandshrugged.“What’syourname?”

SamaskedBaseballHatasIclimbedonboard.

“IamBacchus.Godofpartying.”Hegesturedexpansivelyasheturnedtowardthebackofthebus.“Welcometomybach-a-nel.”

Samtuggedfranticallyat

thebackofmyshirt.“BacchusisRoman!”

Butthedoorswereshutandthebuswasalreadymoving.

Fifteenminuteslater,SamandIhadfoundseatsdeepintheheartofanotherplanet.AplanetapparentlycalledDeltaSigmaLambdaEtaBeta,orsomethinglikethat.

Agirlincutoffshortsand

awhitetanktoptiedatthewaistsidleduptoSam.“You’recute,”shegiggled,reachingouttorunherfingersthroughhishair.

Iwasworriedthatshewouldtouchhishorns,butSamduckedoutofthewaybeforeshemadecontact.Hewasreachingforyetanotherplasticcuptostashinhisbag,presumablyforalatersnack.

DirtyGuylungedtowardus,trippingovertwoofhis

friends.Heleveledhisgaze.“So,whichoneofyou’sgonnabethe‘T’?”

“Thetea?”Igulped,thinkingaboutcannibalsandsweetteaandwonderingwhatwe’dgottenourselvesinto.

“Yeah.Wegottherest.”Hewhistled.“Guys!”

Threeotherdudeswearingorangeandwhitefacepaintscrambledintoaline.Theypulledonorange

clownwigsasIreadtheletterspaintedontheirbarechests.“AXES…?Oh,youneedthe‘T’forTexas.”

“HOOK’EMHORNS!!!!”Theyallstartedwhoopingandyellingagain.

Samrefocusedafterstuffingafewmorecupsintohisbackpack.“Oh,no.Wecan’tgotothegame.”

Deadsilence,asfoursetsofeyesnarrowedatus.

DirtyGuykepthisgaze

lockedonSamasheaskedLetterA,“Didthatpledgejustsay‘no’?”

LetterAshookhisheadindisappointment.“Wethoughtyouwereourbrothers.”

“Well,actually,I’masat—”

IkickedSamtoshuthimup.

“We,um…we’regoingtoZilkerPark.”Ifumbledforanidea.“TheRhoRhoRhoHouseishavinga,um,

tailgateparty.It’sgoingtobe,youknow,epic.”

“Yeah.We’resupposedtogoandstakeoutaspotforafterthegame,”saidSam,catchingon.

“RhoRhoRho?”LetterSasked,blinking.

“Yeah,it’sanewsorority,”Iblunderedon.“Justyourtypes.”

“It’sour,er,pledgeclassgiftto,um,thankthebrothersforwelcomingus….”

Wemusthavedoneadecentsalesjob,orelsetherewassomethingotherthanwaterinthosecups.Regardless,theyhappilydroppedusoffatZilkerParkwithplanstomeetupafterthegame.

WhenwefinallyarrivedatZilkerPark,wewovethroughhordesofsunbathersandpicnickerstogettothecentralattraction.BartonSpringsPoolwasgigantic—athousandfeetlongandabout

onehundredfiftyfeetwide.Accordingtoonesign,itwasmorethaneighteenfeetdeepinsomeplaces.Concretewalkwaysstretchedthepool’slength,withstairsleadingintothewater,butthebottomofthepoollookedmorelikeariverbed,withmossyrocksandevensomefishswimmingaround.Thewholeareawassurroundedbygrassyslopesandshadetrees.

Seeingallthatsparkling

clearwaterremindedmeofhowgrubbyIfelt.

WhenSamproducedtwoswimsuitsfromhisbackpack,Icouldhavekissedhim.(FYI,Ididn’t.)

“Ifyouwanttomeetagod,”Samsaid,“you’vegottaswimwherethegodsare.”

Fiveminuteslaterweweresplashinginthepool.ThewaterfeltsowonderfulthatforamomentIforgoteverythingelse.Thenreality

bitmeonthebutt.“SeeBartonanywhere?”

Samasked.“What’shelooklike?”“Sortof…godly.”“Oh,that’shelpful.”Butthenextsecond,I

spottedaguywhodid,infact,lookgodly.Loungingatthewater’sedgewasamuscular,tannedtwenty-somethingmanwithslickblackhair,aviatorsunglasses,andateenySpeedothat

seemedmoldedtohisbody.Hisskinpositivelyglowedinthesunlight.WhileSamwasunderwater,havingwhatlookedlikeanintenseconversationwithaguppy,Iwadedovertothesunbatherguy.

“Hi,um,areyouagod?”Themansmiledsmugly.

“I’vebeentoldsomanytimes.”

“Great.Listen,ifyoucouldjusttellmeaboutmy

momordad,I’llbeonmyway.”

Therivergodyawned,thentiltedhisperfectfacetothesunlikedhe’dalreadyforgottenaboutme.

Okay,Ithought,nowwhat?

ThenIrememberedtherespectfulwaySamhadaddressedMnemosyne.Maybethat’swhatIneededtodotogetBarton’sattention.

Ibowed.“Omightyone,I—Ibegyoutoanswermyquery.IpleadwithyoutobestowuponmetheinformationIseek.Ibeseechyouto—”

“Kid,”thegodinterrupted,“Idon’tknownothingaboutyourmomordad.Nowbeatit.You’reblockingthesun.”

“But—but—”“Hey,Zane!”Samcalled.Samhadsurfacedonthe

oppositesideofthepool.Hewasnowstandingintheshallowswithaguywholookedlikeanaginghippie.Sambeckonedtomewithamortifiedexpression,likeWhatareyoudoing?Getoverhere!

Iswamover.Thehippiewaschuckling

andshakinghishead.“Didyoujustbeseechthatguy?‘Omightyone’?Whotalkslikethat?”Hisvoicewaslowand

rumbling,likebouldersrollinginadeepcurrent.

“Who—?Wait.”IlookedatSam.“Whydidyoucallmeover?Whoisthisoldguy?”

Samwinced.“Zane,Speedo-manoverthereisn’tBarton.”Hejerkedhisthumbatthehippie.“Thisis.”

Mythroatfeltlikeseveralguppieswerewrigglingaroundinit.

Therivergodwas…underwhelming.Hishair

hungintwoskinnygraybraidsunderabatteredblackcowboyhat.Hiscrookedteethwereaboutasmossyasthebottomofthepool.Histie-dyedKEEPAUSTINWEIRDT-shirtbarelycoveredhispotbelly,andhisbaggygreenshortsweredecoratedwithtinypicturesofaquaticcreatures.

“Um…”Itriedtoswallow.“You’reBarton?”

“Actually,it’sBrykhon,”

therivergodcorrected.“SonoftheTitanOceanus.AllyoftheGiantsinthewaragainstthegods.Pickedthewrongside,asitturnsout,butthat’sallwaterunderthebridge.”Hesmiledatme.“Howdy,hero!Youandyourfriendcomewithmesowecanhaveusaprivatechat.”

Hedissolvedintothewater,thenreappearedatthebaseofanoaktreenearthefarendofthepool.Normally

Iwouldn’tfollowastranger,especiallynotonewhodissolvedintoliquid,butSamsaid,“Comeon,let’sgo!”

IfiguredBarton/Brykhoncouldn’tbetoobad,whatwiththesmileandthepotbellyandthelittleaquaticcreaturesonhisshorts.

SamandIswamafterhim.Brykhonhadmadehimselfcomfortablebetweentherootsofthetree,danglinghisfeetinthewater.“Hot

today,eh?”Thenhetookoffhishat

andIjustaboutleapedoutofmyswimsuit.

“Yikes!”Twopointedhorns

sproutedfromhisthinninggrayhair.

“Relax,”Samsaid.“He’sapotamus,arivergod.Checkouthislowerhalf.”

Myeyeswidened.IwassureI’dseenhumanlegsamomentbefore,butnow

Brykhon’slowerhalfwasallfish—ascalytrunkwithahugegreentailfinfloppingaroundinthepool.

“How—”Ifaltered.“Youweren’tamermanasecondago,wereyou?”

“It’stheMist,littlehero.”Brykhongavemeanothermossygrin.“There’samagicalveilthatdisguisesthetrueappearanceofgodsandmonstersandstuff.Nowthatyou’restartingtoacceptthe

factthatyou’reademigod,you’llbeabletoseethroughitmoreandmoreoften.Mostofthetime,anyway.”

“But—”Brykhonsuddenlylunged

towardthewaterandsnatchedupahalf-emptybagofDoritosthatwasfloatingby.

“Humans,”Brykhonsaidwithdisgust.“They’vemadesuchamessofmywater.Seetheselittlepicturesonmy

shorts?”“Um,youdon’thave

shortsanymore.Youturnedintoafishperson.”

Brykhonfrowned.“Oh,right.Well,ifyoucouldseethem,you’dseetheBartonSpringssalamander.Endangeredspecies!Myspringistheonlyplaceintheworldwheretheylive.Usedtobetonsofthem.Now…?”

Hemadeastrangeburblingsound.Atiny

speckledsalamanderleapedoutofthewaterandintohishand.“Now,becauseofpollution,thespeciesisnearlyextinct.IdowhatIcantosavethem,but…”Heshookhisheadwearily.Thesalamanderskitteredoffintothewater.

Wewereallquietforamoment.IfeltbadaboutbeingpartofaspeciesthatkilledendangeredsalamanderswithNacho-

flavoredDoritos,butIwasn’tsurewhattosay.

FinallyBrykhonsighed.“Enoughaboutthat.I’mguessingMnemosynesentyouheretolearnaboutyourparentage,notaboutmysalamander.”

Athrillshotupmyspine.Thiswasthemomentoftruth!Iwasabouttodiscoverthefactsaboutmybirth—whatpowersImighthave,whatmyfuturemighthold,

whatmydestiny—“I’mafraidtheoldgirl

steeredyouinthewrongdirection,”saidBrykhon.

Knowthatsoundacarmakeswhenitcomestoascreechinghalt?That’swhatIheardinmyhead.

Sambleatedinprotest.“Whatdoyoumean?Mnemosynesaidyouhadanswers!”

Brykhonarchedhiseyebrows.“Didshe?What

exactlydidshesay?”Thegoddess’swords

camebacktome.“GotoAustin,”Irepeated.“SeekouttherivergodBarton.”

Thegodinspectedhisgrimyfingernails.“Nothingaboutmetellingyouaboutyourgodlyparent?”

SamandIexchangedlooks.

“Well,no,”Iadmitted.“Butifyoudon’thavetheanswers,why’dwecometo

Austininthefirstplace?”“BecauseAustinisthe

hidingplaceofapowerfulmagicitem,”Brykhonsaid.“AndIknowwhereitis.Longago,thegodsdecreedthatonlythenextgreatherocouldobtainthisitem.Succeedinretrievingit,andyou’llreceiveacluetoyourparentage.”HeturnedhisgazetoSam.“Unfortunately,gettingtheiteminvolvesrisktoyou,mysatyrfriend.”

Samturnedwhite.“Oh,no.”

“Oh,yes.”Brykhonnoddedgrimly.“Theitemliesinthelairofthedemonsatyrs.Andthey’renotlikelytogiveitupwithoutafight.”

SamandImadeourwaytoathree-tieredfountainwithabigbronzestatueinthemiddle,ourdampswimsuitsandthebagofDoritodust(“Imightgethungrylater,”Samsaiddefensively)stowedin

hisbackpack.Brykhonhadn’tofferedanycluesabouthowtodefeatthedemonsatyrs.Hewouldn’teventellusexactlywhatthismysteriousmagicitemwas.Heclaimednottoknow.Iwasn’tsureIbelievedhim,butwhatIbelieveddidn’tmatter.Wewereonourown.

Wesatheavilyontheedgeofthefountainandgazedupatawingedladyinflowingrobes.Thestatue

heldaloftaburningtorchinonehandandabunchoflaurelleavesintheother.Shestoodinachariotdrawnbythreefish-tailedhorses.Bronzepointy-eareddudesrodethehorsesbareback.(Actually,justabouteverythingaboutthedudeswasbare.)

“Letmeguess,”Isaid.“MoreGreekstuff?”

Samshrugged.“Sortof.ThisistheLittlefield

Fountain.Thosehalf-horse,half-fishcreaturesarehippocampi.They’reprettyfriendly.”

Itriedtowrapmymindaroundthefactthathalf-horse,half-fishcreaturescouldbereal,muchlessfriendly.“Andthewomanthereisagoddess?”

Samseesawedhishand.“Technically,no.She’sColumbia.ShewasthesymbolofAmerican

independenceuntilol’LibertasplantedherselfinNewYorkHarbor.”

Rightbehindme,Iheardanindignanthrumph.Iturned,butnoonewasthere.SamandIwerealonebythefountain.Samdidn’tlooklikehe’dheardanything.IdecidedImust’veimaginedit.

“Libertas,”Isaid.“Uh,youmeantheStatueofLiberty?”

“Yeah.Littleknownfact:theStatueofLibertydoesn’trepresenttheRomangoddessofliberty.SheistheRomangoddessofliberty.”

Iblinked.“Wait,youmean—”

“Yep.”“—thathugegreenstatue

isaliving,breathing—”“Well,Idon’tknowabout

breathing.Butliving?Yeah.GreenGirlisanactualgoddess.Gotherselfanisland

rightoutsidethemostpowerfulcityinAmerica,whereshecankeepaneyeonthings.Afterthathappened,theoldsymbolofliberty,Columbia,kindoffadedfromthescene.”

Ilookedatthebronzeplaqueaffixedtothefountain.“Brevisanaturanobis.That’sLatin,right?”

Samnodded.“Canyoutranslateit?”Histonewascasual,buthisexpressionwas

intense,asifmyanswermattered.

“Idon’thaveto.It’swritteninEnglishrighthere:AshortlifehathbeengivenbyNatureuntoman,”Irecited.“Buttheremembranceofalifelaiddowninagoodcauseendurethforever.”

“Mmm.”Samfocusedonclouds.“Iwouldn’tmindmylifebeingrememberedforever.Dyingforagood

cause.”“Yeah,”Ireplied.“Butin

themeantime,ifwecouldavoidmakingourshortlivesevenshorter—”

“Oh,I’mwithyou,”saidSam.

“Let’sthinkthisthrough,”Isaid.“Whatdoweknowaboutthedemonsatyrs?”

“Well,”Sammused,“they’redemons.Andthey’resatyrs.Oh,andtheyeatothersatyrs,didImentionthat?”

Ibeganpacing.“Whatelsedoyourememberfromthetimeyousawone?”

“Youmeanbesidesabjectterror?”

Istaredathim,thinkinghard.“Yousaidthedemonsatyrbellowedandthenvanishedafteryoucollidedwithastreetvendor.Sam,whatwasthatguyselling?”

“Sweettea.Itsplashedeverywhere,and…”Sam’seyeswidened.“Youthinkthe

teadidsomethingto—”“Maybe.Maybenot.But

ifitdid—”“Whatarewewaiting

for?”Samshottohishooves.“Let’sgetsometeaandwastesomedemons!”

“Sam,holdup!Wecan’tjustwaltzinandstartemptyingteabottlesonthem.”

“Whynot?”“Whatifitdoesn’twork?

Youreallywanttobe

surroundedbyapackofwet,angrycannibalsatyrs?”

Hesatdownwithathud.“Well,whenyouputitthatway…”

“Wedon’tknowforsurewhethertheteakilledthedemonsatyrorjustscareditawayor—”

“Iknow,”trilledafemalevoicebehindme.

Iwhirled,butnoonewasthere.

“Yoo-hoo!Uphere,

silly.”ThestatueofColumbiawavedherfrondatme.Herbronzefacecreakedasshesmiled.“Hello!”

Iresistedtheurgetorunawayscreaming.“Um,hi?”

Samrosetohishoovesagain.Heboweddeeplytothestatue.“Goddess,forgiveusfornotacknowledgingyousooner!”

“Yousaidshewasn’tagoddess,”Iwhispered.

Heelbowedme.“Just

followmylead,willyou?”Hestraightenedandfoldedhishandsoverhisheart,“Please,Goddess,Ibeseechyoutoshareyourwisdom!”

“Oh,soit’sokayforyoutousebeseech?”Imutteredundermybreath.ButIfiguredI’dbettergoalongwithit.Ibowed.“Yeah,um,Ibeseechyou,too.”

Acoupleofstudentspassedby,buttheydidn’tseemtonoticetheliving

statue.TheyjustsmirkedatSamandmeandkeptwalking.MaybeAustinhadalotofcrazypeoplewhotalkedtostatues.

“SamGreenwood.”Columbiasaidhisnamelikeitwasthemostbeautifulphraseintheworld.“Itissogoodtoseeyouagain.IrememberyourfirstvisittoAustinwell!”

“Um,youdo?”Samasked.

“Ofcourse!Iwasoutforaquickflywiththebatsthatnight.”

“You…flywiththebats?”Iasked.“Nevermind.Ofcourseyoudo.”

“Yes!”saidthestatue.“ThatwinglessoldbiddyLibertascan’tfly,youknow.Hmph!Atanyrate,IwascirclingovertheCongressAvenueBridgewhenIsawthehandsomestsatyr—Imeanyou,ofcourse—being

chasedbyoneofthosebloodthirstyAethiopiansatyrs!”

“Awhatnow?”Iasked.“That’sthetechnicalterm

forthem,”Samsaid.“Nowssshhh.Please,greatgoddess,goon!”

“Well,ofcourseIwouldhaveintervened,butIdidn’thavetime!”Columbiasaid.“Thedemonicbeasthadhismouthwideopen,readytotakeabiteoutofyourcute

littlefurrybehindwhenyoubravelytrippedoverthatvendor’scart,andthemonstergotabigmouthfuloftea.Poof!Bye-bye,demon!”Shewavedherfrondagain.“Iwasdelightedtoseehimdestroyed.Onelessevilgoat-mantosullythewatersofmyfountain.Onemuchmoreadorablesatyrtovisitme.”Sheflutteredhereyelidsandgiggled.

“Dude,”Iwhispered,

tryingnottolaugh.“Shelikesyou.”

“Shedoesnot!”Samblushedtothetipsofhishorns.“Listen,Columbiajustgaveusthebreakweneed.SweetteavaporizesAethiopiansatyrs!Nowallwehavetodoisgetsomeandwastethem!”

Columbiaclearedherbronzethroat.“Ah,buttheymustdrinkit,myveryhandsomegoat-man.Dousing

themwithteaisnotenough.”“Thenwegetsquirt

guns,”Samsaidconfidently.Hepretendedtoshoot.“Pew!Pew!Pew!Rightbetweentheirlips!”

“Nogood,”Isaid.“You’dhavetobeaperfectshot,andthenthey’dhavetoswallowthetea.Besides,yousaidtherewasawholecolonyofthesethings.Evenifyoudissolvedoneortwosatyrs,theotherswouldfigureout

whatwasup.They’djustkeeptheirmouthsshutandslaughterus.”

Samloweredhisfingergun.“So…whatdowedo?”

IreachedintomyleftfrontpocketandremovedthegiftI’dgottenfromMnemosyne.“Maybethiscanhelpus?”Isaid.

“Doyouknowwhatitdoes?”askedSam.

“Notaclue,”Isaid,thenraisedthelibrarycardand

swipeditintheairlikeacreditcard.

Nothinghappened.Isortofwaveditaround.

“Alakazam.”Zip.“Isthereanythingwritten

onit?”askedSam.Iexamineditagain.

“Nothinghelpful.”Samshrugged.“Maybe

we’renotsupposedtouseityet.”

“Maybenot.”Ishovedthe

cardbackintomypocket,thenturnedtoColumbia.

“Goddess,whatdidyoumeanabouttheevilgoat-mensullyingyourwaters?Dotheycomeheretodrink?”

“Todrink.Tobathe.Toscrubtheirnastyfeet!Everynightwhenthebatsfly.Samebat-time,samebat-channel.”

Iwasn’tsurewhatthatmeant,butIstaredatthewatergushingfromthefountain,splashingoverthe

snoutsofthebronzehorses.“Whyhere?”Iasked.

“Don’ttheyliveunderabridgenexttoariver?Whynotbatheanddrinkthere?”

Samshuddered.“Youdon’twanttodrinkfromthatriver,Zane.”

“No,indeed,”Columbiaagreed.“Thiswaterispureandsanctifiedbymypresence.Also,it’sfluorinatedtopreventcavities.”

Isnappedmyfingers.“That’stheanswer,then!”

“Fluorination?”askedSam.

“No!Wemixicedteaintothefountainwater!”

Samglancednervouslyatthebronzehorses.“Idon’tknowifthehippocampiwillgoforthat.Theyalreadylookprettyangrytome.”

“Oh,don’tworryaboutmyhorses,”Columbiasaid.“Yourideahasmerit!Afew

gallonsofsweetteashoulddoit,iftheyaredumpedinjustbeforesunset.”

IbowedagaintoColumbia.“Sowehaveyourpermission,OGoddess?”

“Ononecondition.IfyouevergettoNewYorkCity,promisetogototheStatueofLibertyandyellColumbiaRules!asloudasyoucan.Shehatesthat.”

IwasalittleconcernedaboutwhatLibertasmightdo

tome,butInodded.“Promise.Oncethesatyrsaredestroyed,they’llneversullyyourwatersagain.ThenSamandIcanfindthemagicitemweneedfromtheirlair.”

Samrubbedhishandstogether.“Great.Now,whereshouldwegetthattea?”

Igrinned.“Ihappentoknowaplacethatoffersfreerefills.”

“TheXeniaDiner?YouthinkBwillhelpus?”

“Worthashot!”

“Ihopethisworks,”Samwhispered.

Itwasalmostsunset.Theareaaroundthefountainhadclearedout.IguessmostoftheUTstudentswerebackintheirdorms.ArmedwithapitcherprovidedbyBandPhil,webeganpouringsweeticedteaintothefountain.Sureenough,nomatterhow

longwepoured,thepitcherneverwentempty.Wecouldeasilyhaveoverflowedthefountain,butthenthebronzehippocampigaveasnort,whichwasourwarningsignal.

Istirredthewaterwithmyhand,hopingthedemonsatyrswouldn’tnoticetheicecubesfloatingaroundthehorses’hooves.ThenSamandIhunkereddownbehindabenchtowait.

“Let’sgoovertheplanagain,”Iwhispered.“One:demonsatyrsdrinkfromthefountain.Two:wemakesuretheyallgetvaporized.Three:weheadtothebridgetofindthemagicitem.Four…”

Myvoicetrailedoff.Sambithislip.Neitherofusknewwhatwouldhappenatstepfour.Hopefullytherewouldn’tbeanysatyrsleftbackatdemonsatyrheadquarters.Hopefullywe’d

findthemagicitem,anditwouldgivemesomeanswers.

“Whenwegettothebridge,”Samsaid,“besuretostickclosetome.Therecouldbehundredsofpeoplethere.Wedon’twanttogetseparated.”

Warningbellswentoffinmyhead.“Sam…ifthere’sacrowdofmortalslikethatatthebridgeeverynight,howdidthedemonsatyrzeroinonyou?”

“Heprobablysmelledme.Monsterscansmellsatyrs,anddemigods,and—”

“Sam,ifthedemonsatyrcouldsmellyouinahugecrowd,won’ttheypickupyourscentheretonight?”

Sam’seyeswidenedwithpanic.“Ididn’tthink—itneveroccurredtome—blah-ah-ah!Blah-ah-ah!”Hebleatedinterror.

“We’vegottogetoutofhere!”

“Toolate!”hemoaned.“Look!”

Inthegrowinggloom,adozenshadowyfigurescrepttowardthefountain.Theywalkedhunchedover,sortoflikegorillas,exceptgorillasdidn’thaveclovenfeet—orglowingredeyes.Thebiggestdemonsatyrstraightenedandsniffedtheair.Hisheadswiveledinourdirection,hisslittedrubyeyessearchingthedark.

Nexttome,Samshivered.“Allmyfault,”hewhimpered,histoneanguished.“Ishould’veknown.”Hetensed,readytoflee.

“Don’tmove,”Ihissed.“Yourunandthey’llgetyou!”

Samstayedput,butIcouldsensehisterrorgrowing.

Anotherdemonlifteditsheadandsniffed.

Samlookedatme,eyeswide.“Ifwedon’trun,”hewhispered,“you’llhavetoeitherfightthemoroutsmartthem.”

Doyouhaveanyideas?”“None,”whisperedSam.

“Zero.Andyougottadecidenow.”

Ipeekedoverthebenchandsawthehulkingmonstersallraisingtheirheadsnow,allsniffingtheair.Timewasup.

Iwentwithmygut.

Selectachoice:

FIGHT

OUTSMART

Suddenly,anideacametome.AsquietlyasIcould,IgrabbedSam’sbackpackandfumbledinsideuntilIfoundwhatIwaslookingfor—thebagofDoritodust.

“Zane?”Samasked.“You’regoingtohaveasnacknow?”

Ignoringhisquestion,IshovedthetoothbrushandthelibrarycardintoSam’s

backpack,notwantingtogetthemwet.Iopenedthefoilbaganddumpedthecontentsovermyhead.

“Here’shopingtheylikethesmellofnacho-flavoreddemigodmorethanoriginal-flavoredsatyr.”BeforeSamcouldstopme,Istrodetothefountain.

“OH,WHATABEAUTIFULEVENING!”Isaidloudly.

Thesatyrleaderturned

andsnarledatme.Hiseyesnarrowed.Hisnostrilsflared.

Atthatmoment,Idetectedtheflawinmyplan.Namely,theplandidn’tincludeanescaperoute.Nevertheless,IhadtothrowthesethingsoffSam’sscentandstillfindawaytomakethemdrinkthetea.

Istumbledtotheedgeofthefountain.“Hello,boys!”Iyelledatthesatyrs.“Wannadrinkfromthisfountain?

Can’t!It’sminenow!Myfountain!”

Ijumpedinandsplashedaroundlikeanidiot.“Ha,ha!Can’tdrinkfrommyfountain!Nossir!Iclaimitinthenameof…Dorito-flavoreddemigodseverywhere.”

Theleaddemongavethreeshortbleats.Thepackrushedme.

Atthatpoint,IwasprettysureIwoulddie.IonlyhopedIcouldsomehowsplash

enoughteainthemonsters’mouthstotakeafewofthemwithme.Maybe,withluck,Samcouldgetaway.Hewasmyonlyfriend.Icouldn’tlethimgetturnedintogoat-meattacosbyabandofbridge-dwellingcannibals.

ButSamhadotherideas.“Zane!”heyelled.“Catch!”

Sampoppedoutfrombehindthebenchandthrewsomethingsmallandwhite.Isnatchedthetoothbrushout

oftheair.Forasplitsecond,I

thoughtSamreallyneededtogetoverthewholefluoridething.Thiswasnotimefordentalhygiene.ThenIrememberedthatthiswasnoordinarytoothbrush.

Istrokedthebristleswithmythumbandthetoothbrushsprangintoswordform,thebrightbluegemgleamingonthehilt.

“Howdoyoulikeme

now?”Iyelledatthedemons.Theleaderhissed.Then,

asone,thesatyrpackveeredtowardSam.

“Hey,no!”Iscreamed.“Overhere!Fountainwater!Doritoflavoring!”

“I’vegotyou,adorablegoatman!”criedColumbia.

Withapowerfulbeatofherwings,thebronzegoddessswoopedfromherchariot,scoopedupSaminherarms,andflewtothenearest

treetop.Thedemonsstopped,

bleatingwithfury.“There,there.You’resafe

now,”Columbiacrooned,cuddlingSamlikeababy.“Asforyounastycannibalgoat-men,thisoneismine!You’llhavetosettleforeatingdemigod.”

Thanksalot,Ithought.Adozensetsofglowing

redeyeslockedonme.“That’sright!”Isaid,

wavingmysword.“Killmeandeatmeifyoumust,butdonotdrinkfrommyfountain!DONOT!”

Itriedmybesttoactterrified.Itwasn’thard.IclimbedtheslipperytiersofthefountainuntilIstoodinColumbia’schariot,distancingmyselfasfarfromthesatyrsaspossible.

“Thatwouldpainmetoomuch!”Iyelled.“IfIhadtowatchyoufilthydemons

drinkfromthesepurewatersbeforeyoukilledme,thatwouldbetoohorrible!Isimplycouldn’t.Iwouldcry.Like,alot!”

They’renotgoingtofallforit,Ithought.They’renotthatstupid.

Igrippedmyswordtightly,wonderinghowmanyofthemonstersIcouldtakedownbeforetheykilledme.

Thenthedemonleaderhissedwithlaughter.His

smilewasevenmoredisgustingthanBartonthehippierivergod’s.

“Satyrs,drinkyourfill,”hecommanded.“Showthisdemigodthatwecontrolthefountain.Fillhimwithdespairbeforewedevourhisflesh!”

“No!”Iwailed.“Takemyflesh,butnevermyrefreshingfountainwater!”

Thepackadvanced.Thesatyrsloweredtheir

facestothewaterandslurpedaway.

C’mon,Iurgedsilently,holdingmybreath.Poofintooblivion!C’mon!

Nothinghappened.Myheartsank.Ourplanhadfailed.

Theleaddemonstraightenedandsmackedhislipswithsatisfaction.“Andnow…”

Hisglowingredeyeswentdark,andhecollapsed

inaheap.Thud.Thud.Thud.Onebyone,therestofthe

packfelltothepavementandlaystill.

“Okay,”Imuttered.“NotexactlywhatIwasexpecting.”

Ileapedoutofthefountainandsplashedtowardthenearestmonster.Hewassnoringopen-mouthed.And,justlikeSamhadwarned,demonsatyrbreathsmelled

likeweek-oldroadkill.“Welldone!”cried

Columbia.ShefluttereddownfromthetreetopandsetSamonhisfeet.“Youhavevanquishedthemonsters!”

“But…”Irealizedwhatmust’vehappened.“Thewaterdilutedthetea,makingitlesspotent.That’swhyitputthemtosleepinsteadofvaporizingthem.”

“Thatdoesn’tmatter!”Columbiasaid.“Thesatyrs

areoutlikelights.Icantakecareofthemfromhere.”

Ibitbackacomment,likeYou’reagoddess.Whycouldn’tyouhavetakencareofthemtobeginwith?ButIwasstartingtorealizethatgodsandgoddessesdidn’tworkthatway.Theywouldmuchratherwatchheroesdoallthework.

“C’mon,Sam,”Isaid.“We’vegottogettothebridge!”

Columbiasighedwithdisappointment.“Leavingsosoon?”

“Um,yeah,”Samsaid.“Sorry,Goddess.Thingstodo,placestobe.Butthanksfor,youknow,savingmefrombeingeaten.Ioweyouone.Bye!”

WejoggedtheentiretwomilestotheCongressAvenueBridge.Itwasfullydarkwhenwearrived.Thecrowdshaddispersedalongwiththe

bats.Wecreptdowntheslope

oftheriverbank.Ididn’tseeanysignsofmovementfromunderneaththebridge.

“Stayclose,”ItoldSam,brandishingmytoothbrush.

Samshookhishead.“No.Thisisforyoutodoalone,Zane.RememberwhatBrykhonsaid?Onlythenextgreatherocanobtainthismagicitem.Andonlydemigodscanbeheroes,not

satyrs.”Isqueezedhisarm.

“You’reaherotome,Sam.Butallright,howaboutyoubethelookout?Wedon’twantanyrandomleftoverdemonsatyrssneakinguponus.Andincaseyouneedit…”

IgaveSammytoothbrush,whichseemedtosurprisehim.Then,beforeIthoughtaboutittoomuch,Ihurriedunderthebridge.

GOUNDERTHEBRIDGE

“I’llfightthem,”Iblurtedout,strangelycalm.

SamlookedatmelikeI’dturnedintoahippocampus.“What?How?”

“Well,Ihavemytoothbrush…”Isaid,scanningtheareaforsomethingelse—anythingelse—Icouldusetofightadozeneight-footdemonmonsters.Thatwas…ninety-

sixfeetofmonster,slowlyclip-cloppingtowardus.

BeforeIcouldtalkmyselfoutofit,Ileapedupandstartedwalking,tryingtogetthemawayfromSam.Hewasmyonlyfriend.Icouldn’tlethimgetturnedintogoat-meattacosbyabandofbridge-dwellingcannibals.Thetoothbrushfeltheavyinmyhand.

Thedemonsatyrleaderturnedandsnarledatme.His

eyesnarrowed.Hisnostrilsflared.Behindhim,theothermonstersanxiouslyjostledoneanother.

Iwalkedfaster.Ididn’tknowiftheylikedthetasteofdemigodasmuchassatyr,butIwasn’tabouttoletthemgetcloseenoughtofindout.

“Hotouthere,right,guys?”Isaidnervously.“Boy,amIthirsty.”Theyseemedtohavelostallinterestinthefountain.

ItriedtoforceawhistleoutofmyshakinglipsasIwalked,butendedupsettlingfornervoushumming.

Clip-clop.Clip-clop.Allthedemonsatyrsweremovingtowardmenow.I’ddistractedthemfromSam,butnowwhat?

“Imean,thatfountainlooksreally,reallyrefreshing.IfIwereyou,I’dstopanddrinkmyfill…”Itrailedoffastheleaddemontrotted

towardme,pickingupspeed.Hiseyesflashedandhetiltedhisheadback,emittingalong,gurglinghowl.

Theentirepackrushedmeasone.

Iraisedthetoothbrushandstrokedthebristleswithmythumb.Itsprangintoswordform,thebrightbluegemgleamingonthehilt.

Iswungitinfrontofme,drivingthegroupbackabit.Theybleatedatoneanother

andstopped,staringatmewithwhatwasclearlymurderousrage.“That’sright!”Ishouted,swingingtheswordagain.“Backoff!”

Theybleatedafewmoretimes,thenbegantospreadout,slowlytrappingmeinalargesemicircle,pushingmetowardagraffiti-coveredwall.

Asmybackhitthecoldconcrete,Iswungtheswordagain,butthedemonsatyrs

didn’tseemnearlyasfrightenedthistime.

“Ithinkyouchosewrong!”IheardSamyell.

“Sam!”Ishouted.“Run!”“Ican’tleave—I’m

supposedtoprotectyou!”“Well,you’renotdoinga

verygoodjob,”Isaid,lookingabovemeforanypossiblewayout.

Thedemonsatyrs,workingasasingleunit,closedin.

Itriedtostaboneofthemwithmysword,butitleapedback,thenquicklyregaineditsplaceinthetighteningcircle.

Ahigh-pitchedsquealreverberatedthroughthearea,andittookmeamomenttorecognizeitasabattlecry.Samchargedthegroupofdemonsatyrs,headlowered,nubbyhornspointedatthenearestmonster.Thegroupbleatedfranticallyateach

other,andthreesplitoff,blockingSam’sapproach.

TheclosestdemonsatyrreachedagnarledclawoutandgrabbedthetopofSam’sloweredhead,stoppinghiminhistracks.

“Gonna…get…you,”gaspedSamashisclovenhoofschurnedaimlesslyagainstthepavement.TheothertwodemonsatyrsflankedSamandliftedhimintotheair.

“Sam!”Ishouted,leapingtomyright,tryingtoreachhim.Theotherninemonstersclosedin,trappingmeagainstthewall,snarlingandbleating,theireyesglowing.

IwatchedinhelplesshorrorasSamwascarriedaway,hissqueakingvoicefadingintothedistance.

Theremainingmonsterstightenedthecircle,closerandcloser…

Iswungtheswordashard

asIcould,buttheleaddemonsatyrreachedoutandslappeditfrommyhands.Agnarledhoofkickeditaway.

Redeyesandsharpteethfilledmyvision.

ThelastthingIrememberhearingwasthehorriblebleatingofthemonsters…

Zane…Myheadwaskillingme.I

couldsenselightallaround,

doingitsbesttosneakinbetweenmyclosedeyelids.

ZaneCarver…Imumbledsomething

aboutlettingmesleeplonger,butaweirdforcewasurgentlypushingagainstmyskin.

Thevoicecameagain.Itwasotherworldly,distant,magical.Icanonlyinterferesomuchwithyourquest.Youmustchoosemorewisely.Youmustbegintoknowyourself.

Ifelttheforceliftingme…

Thensuddenly,myeyesslammedopenandIwasrunning.

Itwasdusk.Samwasrunningtomyright.Iscreamedandhestoppedshort.

“What?What?”heshouted.

“You’realive!”Isaid,hugginghim.

“Soareyou!”

“Yeah,but…wherearewe?”

Samlookedaround.“ThispathleadsdowntotheCongressAvenueBridge.Howdidwegethere?”

“Youdon’tknow?”Heshookhishead.“We

wereatthefountain,andnow…we’rehere.”

AshiverranthroughmybodyandIlookedupasagentlebreezerustledthetreetops.Isteppedawayfrom

Sam.“Let’sjustconsideritagiftfromthegods.Comeon.”

Samnodded,stillunsure,butheletmedraghimdowntheroadtowardthebridge.Imouthedasilentthankyouasweranon.

Itwasfullydarkwhenwearrived.Thecrowdshaddispersedalongwiththebats.

Wecreptdowntheslopeoftheriverbank.Ididn’tsee

anysignsofmovementfromunderneaththebridge.

“Stayclose,”ItoldSam,makingsuremytoothbrushwasbackinmypocket.

Samshookhishead.“No.Thisisforyoutodoalone,Zane.RememberwhatBrykhonsaid?Onlythenextgreatherocanobtainthismagicitem.Andonlydemigodscanbeheroes,notsatyrs.”

Isqueezedhisarm.

“You’reaherotome,Sam.Butallright,howaboutyoubethelookout?Wedon’twantanyrandomleftoverdemonsatyrssneakinguponus.Andincaseyouneedit…”

IgaveSammytoothbrush,whichseemedtosurprisehim.Then,beforeIthoughtaboutittoomuch,Ihurriedunderthebridge.

GOUNDERTHEBRIDGE

Wordofadvice:Whensearchingforamagicalitem,ithelpstoknowwhatyou’relookingfor.Iassumeditwouldbewellhiddenordisguised,soIwastedalotoftimepokingthroughtrash.Andtherewasalotoftrashunderthatbridge.Butaboutthirtyfeetin,directlyunderthecenterofthebridge,Isawit.

Itwasunmistakable.Envelopedbyaglowingblueaura,itseemedtoinfuseeverythingarounditwithathrummingenergy.IglancedbehindmetomakesureIwasalone,thenapproached.AsIgotcloser,Iwasabletomakeoutexactlywhatitwas—abatteredMcDonald’sHappyMealbox.

Ishrugged.Nothingsurprisedmeanymore.Maybeitwasaboxthat

providedunlimitedfood.Oraportaltoanotherdimension.Orasuperpowerfulgrenade.

Istoodabovetheglowingbox,reachedoutahand,thenstopped.

Onlythenextgreatherocanobtainit.

Whatifthatherowasn’tme?WouldsomethingbadhappenifItouchedit?WhatifIwasanimposterafterall?

Fromtheriverbank,Samcalled,“Uh,Zane,youmight

wanttohurry.IthinkIjustheardableatinthedistance.”

“Right.Heregoes.”Iclosedmyeyesandgraspedthebox.Ididn’tdissolveintowaterorgoupinsmokeorgetstruckbylightning,whichIfiguredwasagoodsign.

IopenedmyeyesandstaredattheoldHappyMealboxinmyhands.IknewwithabsolutecertaintythatIwasholdingacluetomygodlyparent’sidentity.

Thetroublewas,IhadnoideahowIknewthat,orwhatthecluewas.AsIstoodthereexaminingit,theboxbegantoslowlydissolve,itsrattyedgesfloatingawaylikemist.Isquintedand,astheaircleared,Ifoundmyselfclutchingasmall,plain,woodenring.

“Zane,”Samyelledagain.“Timetogo.Now!”

Ishovedtheringintomypocketandran.

Wait,mychild.Avoiceechoedinsidemy

head.Everythingaroundme

seemedtofreeze.Themoonlightstoppedripplingontheriver.Therumbleofcarsceasedonthebridgeabove.Samcrouchedmid-sprintasifhe’dturnedtobronze.

Youhavesucceededinthistask,thevoiceintonedmajestically,asIknewyou

would.Thevoicesoundedso

wateryanddistantIcouldn’teventellifitwasmaleorfemale.

Youwillknowsoon,thevoiceanswered.ButfirstyoumusttraveltoNewOrleans.Hadesrequiresyourassistance.

“H-Hades?”Myheartseemedtobetheonlythingthatwasn’tfrozen.Itwasracingatamillionbeatsper

second.“Isn’the—?”Thegodofthe

Underworld,yes.GettoNewOrleansquicklyorelse…

Thevoicehesitated.“Orelsewhat?”Iasked.

“WhatamIgettinginto?”Thevoiceclearedits

throatasifembarrassed.Whenitspokeagain,itdidn’tsoundquitesomajestic.

Oh,it’snothing,really.Just…well…asmallzombieapocalypseislooming,and

youmaybetheonlyonewhocanstopit.Offyougo!

Withthat,therumbleofthecarsreturned.Moonlightrippledontheriver.Samsprintedtowardme.

“Didyougetit?”heasked.

“Idid,”Irepliedgrimly.“AndIgotsomethingelse,too.”

“Isitfood?”heguessed.“BecauseIlikefood.”

Despiteallwe’dbeen

through,andallthedangerwestillhadtoface,Icouldn’thelpbutsmile.

“Howdoyoulikebeignets?”Iasked.“We’regoingtotheBigEasy.”

MyPersonalZombieApocalypse

“It’sgoingtoexplode!”Sam’scryjoltedme

awake.Ijumpedupandbangedmyheadontheluggagerack.“Ow!What’sgoingtoexplode?”

“Myhair.”Heranhis

handsoverhishorns—he’sasatyr:half-man,half-goat,all-aroundbestfriend—andthroughhisshaggyblondlocks.“WhenwehitNewOrleans—boom!—thehumiditywillturnitintoonegiantfrizzball.”

Isankbackdown.“Dude,you’vegotissues.”

“Tellmeaboutit.”Herolledhissweatshirtintoapillowandclosedhiseyes.“MaybeI’llgetanewhat…”

Twosecondslater,hewassnoring.

SamandIhadboardedtheNewOrleans-boundtraininAustin,Texas,thedaybefore.Wetookturnssleepingandkeepingalookoutfordanger.Nowitwasmyturntostandwatch.

Here’ssomethingyoumightnotknow:keepingwatchisboring.Beingademigod,I’mwiredforaction,notfortwiddlingmy

thumbsonatrainhourafterhour.Aftertenminutes,Iheadedtothediningcarforasnack.IfiguredSamwouldbeokayforalittlewhile.Thetrainwasn’tveryfull,andifanyonewasgoingtoattackus,itprobablywould’vehappenedbynow.

ThetrainslowedasImademywaytothediningcar.TheconductorannouncedwewereheadingovertheHueyP.Long

Bridge,oneofthelongestrailroadspansintheUnitedStates.Ilookedoutthewindow,expectingtoseesky,bridgesupports,andtheMississippiRiver.Instead,Isawaweatheredfacewithholloweyesandaslackjawpressedagainsttheoutsideofthewindow,peeringinatme.

“Yikes!”Ijerkedbackandstumbledintotheboothacrosstheaisle.

“Whoa!Youokaythere,

bud?”thediningcarattendantcalled.

“There’ssomeonerightoutside—”

Themanchuckled.“Yousawyourreflection,isall.”

“DoIlooklikeamiddle-agedguywithabuzzcutwearingoveralls?”Ishotback.“Becausethat’swhatIsaw!”

Theattendantperkedup.“Overalls…Hey,youmusthaveseenoneoftheghosts!”

“What?”“Thisbridgeis

supposedlyhauntedbyworkmenwhowerekilledduringconstruction.Rumorhasitthatafewwereburiedaliveintheconcretepilings.”Heshookhishead.“You’relucky.I’veneverseenone.”

“Yeah.Reallucky.”Andyou’recrazytowanttosee…that,Iaddedsilently.IboughtasandwichandreturnedtomyseatnexttoSam.

HelookedtroubledwhenItoldhimwhathadhappened.“Domeafavor,”hesaid.“Untilweknowwhatwe’reupagainstinNewOrleans,don’tgoanywherewithoutme.Ifyou’realreadyattractingghosts—”

“Letmeguess,”Icutin.“It’llbeevenworsewhenwegetthere.”

Samnoddedsolemnly.Ofcourseitwill.Storyof

mynewlife.

“What’dItellyou?Boom!Frizzball!”

OutsidetheNewOrleanstrainstation,Samtriedinvaintoflattenhishair(whileItriedinvaintokeepastraightface).

Suddenly,hefroze,nostrilsflaring.“Dude,wegottago.Now.”

Whenyou’reademigodandyoursatyrprotectortellsyoutogo,yougo.Hesitate,andamonsterorthreecould

jumpyou.(Don’tlaugh.It’shappened.Morethanonce.)

WezigzaggedourwaythroughthehistoricFrenchQuartertoBourbonStreet,oneofthecity’stouristhotspots.Rock,funk,andthesoundNewOrleansisfamousfor—jazz—rangoutfromopendoorways.Wepassedsouvenirshopsandartgalleries.ThespicysmellsofCajunandCreolecookingwaftedoutofrestaurants.We

finallystoppedatabustlingopen-aireaterywithgreen-and-whitestripedawnings.CAFÉDUMONDE,thesignsaid.

Ileanedforward,tryingtocatchmybreath.“Whatwasafterus?”

Samshotmeapuzzledlook.“Nothingwasafterus.Iwasaftersomebeignets.”

“Weranallthiswayforasnack?”

“Notjustanysnack.”“Ishouldhaveleftyouin

Austin,”Igrumbledaswesatdown.

Samsnorted.“Likeyoucouldsurvivewithoutme.”

“Likeyouwouldn’tcryyoureyesoutifIwasn’taround.”

“Likeyouwouldn’tstarveonyourown.”

Samflaggeddownapassingserver.Withinminutesshedeliveredtwoplatesofwarmdeep-frieddoughdustedliberallywith

powderedsugar.Hetookahugebite,plateandall,andsighedblissfully.“Tryone.”

Idid(minustheplate)—andmyheartstopped,butnotbecauseitwascloggedbysugaryfriedgoodness.

Amanatafartablewasstaringatme.Hiseyeswerepoolsofliquiddarkness.Hisinky-blackhairbrushedtheshouldersofhissuit,whichseemedtoswirlwithshadows.Alittlefreakedout,

Ihunchedovermyplateandfocusedonmyfood.

Adeepvoicesaid,“WelcometoNewOrleans.”

Myheadsnappedupandmyjawdropped.Themanwasnowsittingatourtable.

“Psst.”Samhandedmeanapkin.Heshotanervouslookatoursurpriseguest,likeIwasembarrassinghiminfrontofcompany.“You’redrippingABCbeignet.”

“ABC?”Irepeated

stupidly.“AlreadyBeenChewed,”

themansupplied.Hisvoicemademethinkofoil—slick,thick,andpotentiallydangerous.Hecrossedhisarmsandleanedbackinhischair.“Goaheadandfinish.I’llwait.”

Irealizedwhohewas.InAustin,someonehadspokeninsidemymind(notaformofcommunicationIrecommend,bytheway)andtoldmethat

thegodoftheUnderworldneededmyhelp.Iwipedmychinandswallowed.

“You’reH-Hades.”Themaninclinedhishead

inacknowledgment.“Yourparentinformedmeyou’darrivetoday.”

“Myparent?Youknowwhothatis?”

“Naturally.AndI’lltellyou…onceyou’vecompletedyourtask.”

Mytask.Thevoicein

Austinhadmentionedthat,too.Somethingabout—

“Zombies,”Hadessaid,“areinfestingthistown.Yourtaskistoeradicatethem.”

Samgaveanervousbleat.“Um,excuseme,Lord

Hades,”Iventured.“Butaren’tdeadpeopleyourterritory?”

“Zombiesareundead,”hesaidtightly.“Bodieswhohavelosttheirsoulsbutstillmanagetoroamaround.Lost

tomyworldunlessdestroyedbyademigod’shand.Losttoyourworldunlessthemonsterthatcreatedthemisdefeated.”

“Whydozombiesbotheryousomuch?”Ihadtoask.

Hadesgrimaced.“They’rewalkingcorpses.Theygivedeathabadname.TheUnderworlddoesn’tneedthatkindofnegativepublicity.”

“Ithoughtallpublicitywasgoodpublicity,”Sam

observed.ThenheobservedHades’snarrowedeyesandzippedhislip.

“Wehadagifteddemigod,Marie,stationedhereforawhile,butshepassedawayrecently,so…”

“Who?”Iasked,wincingasSamkickedmeunderthetable.

“Itdoesn’tmatter,”saidHades,obviouslygrowingfrustrated.“Thepointisthataparticularlytroublesome

demonhastakenupresidenceintheareaandiscreatingamassivezombiearmy.Weneedademigodtoneutralizehim,sothesoulscanreturntotheirbodies.”

“Wait,”Isaid,glancingatSamandmovingmylegstotheside.“Ifthesoulsreturn,doesthatmeanthezombiesturnbackintopeople?”

Hadesnodded.“Yes.Alternatively,youcouldkillallthezombies—thatwould

makethemfullydead.”“That’sright,”saidSam,

asifheknewanythingaboutthewalkingdead.

“Butthatwouldn’teliminatetherootoftheproblem.Youneedtoneutralizethemonster.Now,aboutthat,”Hadessaid,allbusiness,clearlyhopingtopreventanymorequestions,“hehasproventobe,err,challenging.Infact,fivepreviousdemigodshave

failed.”Ifrowned.“Hangon.I

wasyoursixthchoice?”Samcoughed.“Shouldn’t

youbemoreworriedabouttheotherdemigodsthanaboutwhetheryouweresixthinline?”

“Oh.Goodpoint.Abouttheothers…”

“They’rezombies,”Hadessaid.“TheMormobitthem.”

“Thewhat-whobit

them?”“TheMormo.Arogue

spirit.Hecansummonlesserdemons,raisethedead,andturnahumanintoazombiewithasinglebite.”

Iflashedbacktotheghostoutsidethetrain.IaskedHadesiftheMormomighthaveraisedthatguyfromthedead.

ThelordoftheUnderworldshrugged.“EvenbeforetheMormoarrived,

NewOrleanshadghosts.Othercreatures,too,likewerewolves,orloups-garoux,asthey’reknownhere.”

Hestoppedwhenhesawmyexpression.“Butneverfear.TheOraclehasindicatedthatyouwillsucceed.”

IwonderedifthisOraclehad“indicated”successfortheotherdemigods,too.“WhatdoweneedtodotodefeattheMormo?”

“Whatdoyouneedto

do,”Hadescorrected.“Youarethehero.Samisjustalowlysatyr.”

Samflushedandhunghishead.

Angerroseinsideofme.Ididn’tcarehowpowerfulHadeswas—nobodydissedmyfriendlikethat.“Lowly?Sam’sthebravestguyIknow.Iwouldn’tbehereifnotforhim!Sotellus,whatdoweneedtodotodefeattheMormo?”

PurpleflamesoffuryflaredinHades’seyes,thensubsided.“Youcapturehiminsideamagicalpithos.”

“Apithos?”“AlargeGreekstoragejar

withalid.OncetheMormoisinside,sealitsohecannotescape,”Hadessaid.“There’sjustonecatch:hemustenteritwillingly.YoushouldalsoknowthattheMormohassummonedthedaimoneskeramikoi.”

“That’stwocatches.”Hadespinchedthebridge

ofhisnoseasifwardingoffaheadache,soIturnedtoSam.“Whatarethe‘demonskaraoke’?”

“Thedaimoneskeramikoiarefiveevilspirits—theShatterer,theSmasher,theCharrer,theDestroyer,andtheCrudebake.Inancienttimes,theydestroyedkilnsandpottery.”

Iputtwoandtwo

together.“ThatmeanstheMormoknowsaboutthepithos.Hemusthavesummonedthepotterydemonstosmashit.”

“Mostlikely,”Hadesaffirmed.“Idon’tknowwheretheMormoishidingorwhyhehastargetedNewOrleans.ButIdoknowthis:fail,andtheinfestationofundeadwillspreadfarbeyondthiscity.”Heexaminedhisfingernails.“A

zombieapocalypsewouldnotbegoodformyreputation.Preventitfromhappening.”

Iclosedmyeyes,chilledbytheimageoftheundeadtakingovertheworld.WhenIopenedthem,Hadeshadvanished,buthe’dleftbehindanenvelope.Ithoughtitmightcontainfurtherinstructions,butinsideIfoundagoldcoinandanotethatsaid:8:00P.M.SHOW—PRESERVATIONHALL.

“Iguessthegodofthedeadisintojazz.Whoknew?”IsaidtoSamasIpocketedthecoinandnote.

Samwastoyingwiththeremainsofmynapkin,whichwasweird.Usuallyheatestufflikethat.“Sam?Didyouhearme?”

“Yeah.”Hefinallylookedup.“Thanksforstickingupforme.”

“Hey,you’ddothesameforme.”

“Still,itwasHadesandall.Theguywhosefavoritepastimeisinventingeternaltorturesforsinners.Inmybook,he’sthescariestofallthegods.”Hegottohishooves.“Youreallyhavebecomeahero,youknow.”

“Well,”Ireplied,bothpleasedandembarrassed,“ifI’mallthat,thenhowcomeIdon’tknowwheretolookforthisMormodude?”

“Ademonthatdealsin

death?Threeguesses.”Igroaned.“Acemetery.”“Gotitinone,hero.”

NewOrleanswasbuiltonaswamp.Knowwhathappenswhenyouburysomethinginaswamp?Itdoesn’tstayburiedforlong.Forthatreason,theCrescentCity’sdeceasedwereentombedabovegroundinmausoleumslaidoutinrows,likestreets.

Accordingtothetouristbrochurewesnaggedataninformationkiosk,thegreaterNewOrleansareahadforty-twoofthese“CitiesoftheDead.”

“TheMormocouldbeinanyofthem,”Samlamented.“Wheredowestart?”

“Byaskinghim.”Ipointedtoamule-drawncarriage,oneofmanyforhireintheFrenchQuarter.Themuleworeastrawhat

decoratedwithpinkflowersandregardedSamandmebalefully.“Youspeakmule,right?”

“Ofcourse!I’masatyrofmanytalents.Icandance.”Hekrumpedsomemoves.“Icansing.”Hebeltedoutafewbarsof“WhentheSaintsGoMarchingIn.”

“Stopbehavinglikeadonkeyandgotalktothatmule.”

Icouldn’thearthe

conversation,butwhenSamreturned,helookedgrim.Andhehadthemule’shat.

“MikesaysweirdstuffhasbeenhappeningatnightinSaintLouisCemeteryNumberOne.Strangesounds,triplethenumberofghostsightings,freshfootprints…”

“That’sgottobewheretheMormois.Isaywecheckoutthecemeterynow,whileit’sstilllight,andthengobacktonighttodosomeghost

wrestling.Inbetween,maybewecantakeinsomejazz.AndSam?”Igesturedtothehatinhishand.“What’sthatfor?”

“Duh.Tocovermyfrizz.Look:nubholes.”Hepokedhisfingersintothetwoslitscutforthemule’searsandthenjammedthehatonhishead.

Icrackedup.“Honey,thoseflowersaresoyou.”

Sampreened.“Pinkismy

color.”Iknockedhimlightly

withmyshoulder.“You’resatyr-rific,Sam.”

Hetippedthehatoveroneeye.“TellmesomethingIdon’tknow.”

SaintLouisCemeteryNumberOnewaswithineasywalkingdistanceofCaféduMonde.Itwasapopularhistoricalattraction,andwe

arrivedjustasatourgroupwassettingout.Wetrailedbehindthemtoawhitetombwithagentlypeakedroof.Candlestubs,wiltedflowers,stringsofcolorfulbeads,andotherrandomobjectslitteredthegroundaroundit.Triosofhand-drawnX’smarkedthesidesandfront.

“Thisistombthreehundredandforty-seven,”thetourguidedroned.“Itisbelievedtobethefinal

restingplaceofMarieLaveau,arenownedhealerandpacifist.YoumayknowherbetterastheVoodooQueen.”

Afewpeoplegasped.InudgedSam.“Marie!Doyouthinkshe’sthedemigodHadestalkedabout?”

Samraisedhishand.“Whendidshedie?”

“Uh,”saidthetourguide,sneakingalookatthetomb.“Shediedin1881.”

“Thatdoesn’tseemveryrecent,”Iwhispered.

“Ingodyears,that’slikeyesterday,”Samwhisperedback.

SomeoneaskedabouttheX’sonthetomb.“Ah,yes,”theguidereplied.“Beforewegoanyfarther,Imustrequestthatyounotdefacethisoranyofthevaults.Buttoansweryourquestion:somepeoplebelievethatiftheymarkthistombwiththreeX’s

andleaveanoffering,Mariewillgrantthemawish.”

Whenthegroupmovedon,IheldSamback.“Iwanttomakeawish.”

“Why?”“Fivedemigodsturned

intozombies?Weneedallthehelpwecanget.”

Samshiftedhishoovesuneasily.“Idon’tknow.Voodooisseriousmagic,andMarieLaveauwasthemostpowerfulpractitionerofher

time.Maybeofalltime.Whatifsomethinggoeswrong?”

“Shewasademigod.Andthetourguidesaidshewasahealer.MaybeshejustneedsalittlecoaxingtohealthepeoplewhowerebittenbytheMormo.”Ikneltinfrontofhertomb.

Samwasquietforamomentandthentookoffhisnewhat.“Okay.Wanttoofferherthis?”

“Maybejusttheflowers.”Samgatheredthemintoa

bouquet,whichIputwiththeotherofferings.Withapologeticthoughtstothetourguide,ImadethreetinyX’swithapieceofbrick,coveredthemwithmyhand,andwhisperedmyrequest.WhenIremovedmyhand,theX’shaddisappeared.

“Whoa,”Ibreathed.“Youthinkthatmeansshe’sgoingtograntit?”

“Eitherthatoryoursweatypalmerasedthemark,”Samreplied.“So,whatwasyourwish,exactly?”

“Worldpeace,ahundredmorewishes,andthatyou’dlosethehat.”

“Fine,”Samgrumbled.“Don’ttellme.”

“Comeon,”Ichided.“Youknowthedealwithwishes.Tellthemandtheywon’tcometrue.”Isurveyed

thecemeteryandshivereddespitetheheat.“Andwedefinitelywantthisonetocometrue.”

Wehadaprettygoodfeelforthecemetery’slayoutbythetimeitclosedtothepublicatthree.IsuggestedweheadtoPreservationHallandgetourticketsearly.BetweenthecrowdsoftipsytouristsandtheSisypheantaskofpulling

Samawayfromopenrestaurants,ittookusnearlyforty-fiveminutestogetthere.SamwipedjambalayaoffhischinandburpedasIapproachedtheclosedticketwindow.Iknockeduntilasmall,wirymansliditopenandsquintedatus.

“Yeah?”hesaid,afteramoment.

“Ineedtwoticketsfortheeighto’clockshow,”Isaid.

“Tonight,”burpedSam.

“Officeopensatsix,”hesaid,andstartedtoslidethewindowshut.

“Please!”Isaid,andproducedthegoldcointhatHadeshadgivenus.

Themanexamineditforamoment,thenshookhishead.“UScurrencyonly.Thirty-fivedollarsapieceforBigShotseats.Comebacklater.”Thewindowclickedshut.

IturnedtoSam.“Howmuchmoneydowehave

left?”Hescuffedonehoofon

theground.“Uh,well…”“Sam?”Hereachedinto

hisbackpackwithoutmeetingmyeyes.“Sam.”

Heremovedahandfulofcrumpledone-dollarbillsandpassedthemtome.“NewOrleansfoodisn’tcheap.”

“Youspentallourmoney?”

Henoddedwoefully.“Howarewesupposedto

getintotheshowtonight?Hadesobviouslywantedustogoforareason….”

Simultaneously,bothofuslookedoveratatrioofbreakdancerswhoweredrawinganenormouscrowdacrossthestreet.“Maybe…”saidSam.

“Seventydollars?”Isaid.“Yeah!Wehavealmost

fourhours.Icansinganddance.Whatcanyoudo?”

Selectachoice:

MAGIC

PRETENDTOBEASTATUE

JUGGLE

Irackedmybrain,tryingtocomeupwithsomething.IwassurethatifItriedtosingordance,wewouldendupowingmoney.Finally,Irememberedthatoneofmyuncleshadtaughtmeareallygoodtrick.

“Magic!”Isaid.Samhalf-groaned.“The

fourofclubstrick?”hesaid.“Well,ittrickedyou,”I

saidalittledefensively.“Ijustneedadeckofcards.”

WewalkedtowardJacksonSquare.Themainparkarea,surroundedbyawrought-ironfence,wasenormousandperfectlylandscaped.Agothic-lookingcathedraltoweredovereverything,justbehindagreen-tingedstatueofAndrewJackson(hewavedhishatatus).Thestretchofsidewalktotheleftofthe

mainsquarewaslitteredwithsmallfoldingtableswherepsychicsandtarotcardreaderssat.Artistshadleanedtheirpaintingsagainstthefencetoattractpassersby.Samlookedaround,thenpointedtoanemptyspotnexttosomebrightlypaintedcanvases.“I’llbeoverthere,”hesaid.“Ifanythinggoeswrong,orthecopscome,I’llsing,um,‘WhentheSaintsGoMarchingIn.’That’llbe

ourtime-to-gocue.”“Okay,”Isaid.“Good

luck.”SamcloppedoffasI

scannedtheareaandspottedanoldmansittingbehindatablecoveredbyamulti-coloredcloth.Achalkboardleaningagainstitread:TAROTCARDREADINGS—15DOLLARS.Threestacksofcardssatinfrontofhim.Ilookedaroundforanotheroption,thenranover.

“Excuseme,sir?”Iasked.“IwaswonderingifyouhaveanextradeckofcardsIcouldborrow,justforalittlewhile?Ineeditforamagictrick.”

“Thesearen’tyourusualplayingcards,son,”themansaid,staringatmeintently.“Theyrevealtruth.”Heindicatedtheemptychairacrossfromhim.“Whydon’tyousitdownsoIcanshowyou?”

“Well,um,I’mkindof

shortontime,”Isaid,resistingtheurgetoflee.“Butmaybeyouhavesomeyouaren’tusingrightnow?”Itriedtopeerinconspicuouslyintoacanvasbagofsuppliesnexttohischair.

Theman’sgazeneverwaveredfrommyface.Itfeltlikehewastryingtoreadmelikeoneofhiscards.

“Look,I’mnotahustler,okay?”Icontinued.“I’mjusttryingtoraisealittlecashfor

anemergency.IpromiseI’llgivethecardsback.”ThenIadded,“I’llevengiveyouatip.”

Themanstartedshufflingthedeckinfrontofhim,slowlyanddeliberately.Isquirmed,thinkingofthevaluabletimeIwaslosing.

“Tellyouwhat,”hedrawled.“We’llletthecardsdecide.”Hedividedthedeckintothreenewstacksandplacedthemfacedownonthe

table.“Chooseone.”“Uh,Idon’thaveenough

moneyfor—”Theoldmanwavedhis

hand.“Thisisonme.Goahead,pick.”

Idon’tknowwhymyfingerswereshakingwhenIpointedtothepileontheright.Heliftedthetopcard,turneditover,andlaiditinfrontofme.

“Ah,theFool,”heannounced.

Myfaceflushed.Obviously,thiswassomekindofjokehelikedto—

“TheFoolisthesparkthatsetseverythinginmotion,”theoldmancontinued.“Thefirststepinthejourney.”Whenhelookedupatme,hisexpressionwascompletelyserious.“Youareatthebeginningofyourenlightenment.”

IwassosurprisedIdidn’tknowwhattosayordo.Ifelt

like…well,afool.Themanleanedover,

reachedintohisbag,andhandedmeadeckofcards.“WhoamItostandinyourway?”

“Oh,thankyou,sir!”ThenIreallypushedmyluck.“CouldIalsoborrowsomechalk?”

“Youmustdowhatyoumustdo,”themansaid,whichItookasayes.

Igrabbedapieceofblue

chalkandpickedupadiscardedpieceofcardboardnearby.

Iquicklythumbedthroughthedeck,scanningfortheperfectcard.Thereitwas.Imovedittothebottomofthedeck.ThenIwroteTHEMAGICIANinbiglettersonthecardboard,placedthechalkbackontheman’stablewithawaveofgratitude,andwalkedafewyardsaway.

Iputthecardboardsign

facedownontheasphaltandstartedshouting,“Steprightupforamagictrick!Onlyonedollar!”

Touristaftertouristwalkedby,doingtheirbesttopretendIdidn’texist.Finally,ayoungboyspottedmeandtuggedonhismother’sarm,whisperingsomethingtoher.Shesighedandgavehimadollar,whichhethenwalkedoverandgavetome.

“What’syourname?”I

said.“Byron,”saidtheboy

veryseriously.“Allright,Byron,”Isaid.

“Thankyousomuchforstopping.Areyoureadyforagreatmagictrick?”

Theboynodded,lookingaroundinanticipation.Imovedmychosencardtothecenterofthedeckandshovedmypinkyinjustaboveittomarkitsplace.“Okay,”Isaid.“Allyouhavetodois

saystopwheneveryoulike,allright?”

Byronnodded,hisfacescrewedupinconcentration.Acowlickeruptedfromthetopofhisheadlikeafeather.

“Okay.Ready?Go!”Istartedflippingthroughthecardsquickly.

“Stop!”saidByron.Ipulledoffallthecards

ontopofmypinkyandshovedthebottomofthedecktowardhim.“Thereyougo,”

Isaid.“Takethecardyoustoppedonandlookatit,butdon’tshowme.”

Byrondidashewastold,carefullycoveringitwithbothhands.Ishowedhimtherestofthecardstoprovetheywerealldifferent.Byron’smothercamealittlecloser,curious.

“Whatcarddidyoustopon?”Iaskedhim.

“CanIshowittoyounow?”askedByron.

“Youdon’thaveto,”Isaid,pointingtothecardboardlyingontheground.“Mymagiccardboardwilltellusboththeanswer.Turnitover!”

IsteppedbackasByronreacheddownandflippedthecardboard.Hegaspedatthewordsandshowedmehiscard:TheMagician.

“Themagiccardboardneverlies!”Isaid.

Byronandhismother

clapped,thenhismotherpulledhimaway.

Ithadworked!Iflippedthecardboard

facedownagainandputtheMagiciancardbackonthebottomofthedeck,readyformynextvictim.

Samtapdancedandsanghissatyrheartout,whileIluredintouristaftertourist,sendingasmanyasIcouldovertotheelderlytarotreaderasathankyoufor

lettingmeborrowthecards.Hoursflewby.Finally,I

heardSamsinging“WhentheSaintsGoMarchingIn,”andIgatheredupthestackofdollarbillsI’dmanagedtocollect.

Iranovertohimandrealizedhowinsanelysweatyhe’dgotten.“It’s…time…to…go…”hepanted,pickinguphishatfullofcrumbledbillsandloosechange.“Did…we…do…it?”

Wewalkedovertoanearbywallandstartedcountingourmoney.“…seventy-six,seventy-seven,seventy-eight,seventy-nine…Sam,wedidit!Wemadeeightydollars!”Ishouted,thenhuggedhim,immediatelyregrettingitashiswetgoatscentclungtome.

“We…only…have…five…minutes…”hegasped.“Let’s…go.”

Ilaughedandshovedallbutfiveofthebillsintomypockets,thengavethetarotreaderhiscardsback…alongwiththattipI’dpromised.

GOTOPRESERVATIONHALL

Irackedmybrain,tryingtocomeupwithsomething.IwassurethatifItriedtosingordance,wewouldendupowingmoney.IthoughtbacktoallofthestreetperformersI’dseenovertheyears:breakdancers,magicians,guitarists,jugglers,mimes…Istoppedsuddenly,rememberingamanI’dseenearlierthatday.He’dbeenstandingimmobile

onthecorner,paintedcompletelysilver,abucketsittinginfrontofhim.Wheneversomeoneputadollarintohisbucket,hewouldmovelikearobotandwave.Thatwasallhe’ddone,andhisbuckethadbeennearlyfull.

“Icanstandstill,”Isaid.“Huh?”saidSam.“Icanstandstilllikea

statue,”Isaid.“Andwhensomeonegivesmeadollar,

I’llwavetothem.”“Whywouldsomeone

payforthat?”askedSam.“Whywouldsomeone

paytohearyousingKatyPerry?”Iasked.

Hethoughtforamoment,thenshrugged.“Fairpoint,”hesaid,leadingthewaydowntoJacksonSquare.

Themainparkarea,surroundedbyawrought-ironfence,wasenormousandperfectlylandscaped.A

gothic-lookingcathedraltoweredovereverything,justbehindagreen-tingedstatueofAndrewJackson(hewavedhishatatus).Thestretchofsidewalktotheleftofthemainsquarewaslitteredwithsmallfoldingtableswherepsychicsandtarotcardreaderssat.Artistshadleanedtheirpaintingsagainstthefencetoattractpassersby.Samlookedaround,thenpointedtoan

emptyspotalongthefencenexttosomebrightlypaintedcanvases.“I’llbeoverthere,”hesaid.“Ifanythinggoeswrong,orthecopscome,I’llsing,um,‘WhentheSaintsGoMarchingIn.’That’llbeourtime-to-gocue.”

“Okay,”Isaid.“Goodluck.”

“YouneeditmorethanIdo,”hesaid,thenhetookoffhishatandgaveittome.

Ashecloppedovertothe

fence,Iscannedtheareaandspottedanoldplasticcrate.Idraggeditovertoasmallopeningafewyardsaway,setthehatinfrontofit,andsteppedup.Iwasn’tsurewhatpositiontostandin,butIfiguredithadtobesomethingthatpeoplewouldnotice,soIstuckbothhandsintheairlikeI’djustscoredatouchdownandwaited.

Afewtouristswalkedpastandstaredatme

strangely,thenkeptwalking.Iwasn’tsureiftheyknewI’dmovewhentheygavememoney,butIdidn’tknowhowtotellthem.IrealizedIdidn’thaveasignorbodypaint,soIprobablyjustlookedlikeaconfusedteenager.

Iputmyarmsdownandshookthemout,mybodyalreadycoveredwithathinsheenofsweat.StandingstillwasmuchharderthanI

thoughtitwouldbe.Isteppedoffmycrateandwalkedaroundalittlebit,stretchingoutmymuscles.IneededawaytoalertpeoplethatIwasstandingstillforapurpose.IspottedanoldmansittingatacardtablewithahandwrittensignthatsaidTAROTCARDREADINGS:15DOLLARS,andIwalkedovertohim.

“Excuseme,sir?”Istarted.“IwaswonderingifIcouldborrowyourmarker?

I’llgiveitrightback.”“Yousureyoudon’twant

areadin’instead?”hedrawled,pointingtotheemptychairinfrontofhim.

Ispreadoutmyhands.“Sorry,dude.I’mallouttacashatthemoment.”

Hesighedandsaid,“Weworkingpeoplehastohelpeachotherout”ashehandedmearedmarker.Ipickedupasmallpieceofcardboardoffthestreet,andwroteahuge

“$1”onit,andreturnedthemarkerwithmythanks.

Iplacedthemakeshiftsigninfrontofmycrate.Then,justtomakesurethemessagewasclear,Iputoneofmypreciousfewdollarsintothehat.Everyoneknowsthatittakesmoneytomakemoney.

Iclimbedbackontopandextendedonearmandonefinger,pointingtowardtheMississippilevee.Iwaited,

tryinghardnottomoveanything,notevenmyeyes.Afewpeoplestoppedtoreadmysign,butthentheykeptmoving.Finally,ablondmaninatoo-bigT-shirtstumbledoverandsaid,“Onedollar.Forwhat?”

Helookedatmeforananswer,butIdidn’tmove.Heshrugged,reachedintohiswalletandremovedadollar,thenplaceditintothehat.Doingmybesttomovelikea

robot,Itiltedmyheadandwaved,thensettledintoasuperheropose,bothhandsonmyhips.

Themanstared,waitingforsomethingelsetohappen.Afteraboutfifteenseconds,hesaid,“Thatwasterrible!”andstumbledoffdownthestreet.

Ithadn’tbeengreat,butI’dmademyfirstdollar.Andthemanhadn’ttakenitback.

Forthenextthreeanda

halfhours,touristscameandwent,afewdroppingadollarintomyhatoutofcuriosity,nearlyallofthemleavingdisappointed.Finally,IheardSamsinging“WhentheSaintsGoMarchingIn”atthetopofhislungs.Ileapeddownfromthecrate,wincingasmyfrozenmusclesscreamedinprotest.Ipickedupthehat,wincingevenharderatthesightofthirteenlonelydollarbillsanda

handfulofpitychange.IranovertofindSam,

realizinghowinsanelysweatyhe’dgotten.“It’s…time…to…go…”hepanted.“Did…we…do…it?”

Ishrugged,embarrassed.“Idunno,”Isaid.“Ididn’tdosowell.”Istartedcounting,puttingeachdollarintothehat.

“…sixty-nine,seventy,seventy-one.”IlookedatSam,hishairahugefrizzy

halo.“We’refourdollarsshort,”Isaid.

“Oh…man,”saidSam,wipinghisforehead.“Wegottadance!”Hetookadeepbreathandstartedflailingwildly.Heglancedatme,andIdidmybesttomirrorhim.Ifeltridiculous,butfiveminuteslater,wehadfourdollarsinchangesittinginSam’snewhat.

Hesmiledatme.“We…didit!Let’s…go.”

Irackedmybrain,tryingtocomeupwithsomethingIcoulddo.IwassurethatifItriedtosingordance,wewouldendupowingmoney.IthoughtbacktoallofthestreetperformersI’dseenovertheyears:breakdancers,magicians,guitarists,mimes…noneofwhichwassomethingIcoulddo.“MaybeIcouldjuggle?”I

said.Samwrinkledhisnose

likehesmelledsewage.“Canyoudoitwithoutdroppingtheballs?”

“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.“I’venevertried.Howhardcanitbe?”

“Um,hard,”saidSam.“Well,maybepeoplewill

appreciatetheeffort,”Isaid.“Ihonestlydon’tknowwhatelseIcoulddo.”

Samcockedhisheadand

lookedatmecuriouslyforamoment.“Youknowwhat?”hesaid.“It’sworthatry.”HeledusdowntoJacksonSquare.Themainparkarea,surroundedbyawrought-ironfence,wasenormousandperfectlylandscaped.Agothic-lookingcathedraltoweredovereverything,justbehindagreen-tingedstatueofAndrewJackson(hewavedhishatatus).Thestretchofsidewalktotheleft

ofthemainsquarewaslitteredwithsmallfoldingtableswherepsychicsandtarotcardreaderssat.Artistshadleanedpaintingsagainstthefencetoattractpassersby.Samlookedaround,thenpointedtoanemptyspotnearsomebrightlypaintedcanvases.“I’llbeoverthere,”hesaid.“Ifanythinggoeswrong,orthecopscome,I’llsing,um,‘WhentheSaintsGoMarchingIn.’That’llbe

ourtime-to-gocue.”“Okay,”Isaid.“Good

luck.”“YouneeditmorethanI

do,”hesaid,thenhetookoffhisnewhatandgaveittome.Ashecloppedover,Ituckedthehatundermyarmandlookedaroundforsomethingtojuggle.Abouthalfwaydowntheblock,Isawamansellingfruitfromacart:apples,melons,limes,coconuts.Iusedtherestof

thechangeinmypockettobuythreelimes(applesandmelonsseemedtoobig)andheftedthemasIwalkedtothecorner.

Iplacedthehatandoneofthelimesonthegroundinfrontofme,thentossedoneofthefruitsintotheairandcaughtit.Easy.Ididthatafewtimes,thenIdiditwithtwo,tossingthemgentlyfromhandtohand.Itfeltstrangelysimple,likethelimeswere

almostmovinginslowmotion.Maybethisdemigodthingwasgoodforsomething.…

Ipickedupthethirdlimeandstartedslowly.Tossonepieceoffruitfromtherighthandintotheair,thenthelimefromtheleft,thenthethirdlimefromtherighthandwhilecatchingthesecond.Rinse.Repeat.Idroppedthefruitafewtimes,butthenImanagedtogetthroughone

rotationwithoutdropping.Thentwo.Soon,Iwaskeepingit

goingfortenortwentysecondsatatime…thenlonger.

“Juggling!”Ishouted,unabletokeepthesmileoffmyface.“Comeandgetyourjuggling!”

AkidinastainedCirqueduSoleilshirtwalkedupandwatchedmeforafewsecondsuntilIdroppedoneofthe

limes.Hepickeditupandhandeditbacktome,soIstartedagain.Ijuggledandjuggledandhestartedclapping.Afewotherpeoplestoppedtocheckmeout,andIsaid,“Moneyhelps!”Theylaughedandputsomechangeintomyhat.

Igotintothezone,gettingbetterandbetterastheminutesflewby.Eachlimeseemedtohoverintheair,allowingmemorethan

enoughtimetograbit.OutofthecornerofmyeyeIcouldseethatbillswerepilingupinmyhat.BythetimeIheardSamsinging“WhentheSaintsGoMarchingIn”atthetopofhislungs,itwasliterallyoverflowingwithmoney.

Igavethelimestoacoupleofgapingkids,scoopedupallthecash,andranovertoSam.Hewasinsanelysweaty.“It’s…

time…to…go…”hepanted.“Did…we…do…it?”

Istartedcounting,puttingeachdollarintothehat.“…eighty-four…eighty-five…eighty-six…eighty-seven!Sam,wekilledit!Wemadeeighty-sevendollars!”Ishouted,thenhuggedhim,immediatelyregrettingitashiswetgoatscentclungtome.

“Come…on,”hegasped.“We…only…have…

fifteen…minutes.…”Ilaughedandshovedall

ofthebillsintomypockets.“Ifthisdemigodgigdoesn’tworkout,maybewecantakeourshowontheroad.”

WesprintedovertoPreservationHallandpurchasedtwoticketswithminutestospare.Theplacewastiny,withbarewoodenwalls,dimlighting,andminimalseating.Alargecrowdwasalreadypackedin,andSamandImadeourwaytothefrontoftheroom.

Alonemusician,awomanwithdarkhair

flowingdownherback,wastappingoutarhythmonatallcongadrum.Hergrayeyeslockedwithmineandshesmiled.Anelectriccurrentranupmyspine.

“Sam,youseethatwoman?”

Thebandfilteredinjustthen,blockingourviewofher.Whenthemusiciansmovedaside,shewasgone,butherdrumremained.Except…

“Look!”Afogseemedtoliftfrom

aroundtheconga,revealinganearthenwarecontainerofroughlythesameshapeandsize.Thetuninglugshadmorphedintotwohandles.Asolidclaylid,notathindrumskin,coveredthetop.

“Thepithos!ItwashiddenbytheMist!”Samsaid.“Shouldwegrabitandgo?”

Wecouldn’tclaimityet,

becausethebandhadstartedtoplay.I’dneverlistenedtolivejazzbeforeandthoughtthemusicwasamazing.Thelittleboysittingnexttomehadadifferentopinion.Heclappedhishandsoverhisearsandsqueezedhiseyesshut.Theboy’sfathercaughtmyeyeandshrugged.“Guessnoteveryoneisamusiclover.”

Thebandfinisheditssetforty-fiveminuteslater.I’d

hopedtosneakonstageandgetthepithoswhiletheaudiencefiledout.Butthemusicianslingered,chattingwithafewfans.

“Nowwhat?”Samwhispered.

“Wetrythedirectapproach.”Imovedtothetrumpetplayer,anoldermanwhohadbeenintroducedasLouGaroo.Hehadapatchybeard,bushyhair,andalongnose.“Excuseme,sir,butis

thatpith—er,congaforsale?”“Nope.”Lou’svoicewas

deepandhusky,almostagrowl.

MyheartsankasIsearchedmymindforideas.

Thenhesaid,“ButcouldbeI’dtradeyasomethingforit.”

“Anything!”HenoddedatSam.“Igot

alikingforyourhat.”“Myhat?”Samturnedto

me.“Hewantsmynubhat?”

“Sensibledesign,thoseslits,”Lousaid.“Worksformulesandother…creatures…whomightneedalittleextraroomuptop.Nextfullmoon,ahatlikethatcouldfitmejustright.”Hegrinned,andsuddenlyhisfacelookedlesshumanandmore…canine.LiketheBigBadWolf.

“LouGaroo.”Igulped.Loups-garoux.“You’rea—a—”

“Friend.Let’sleaveitat

that.”Hecombedhisfingers(withthelongestfingernailsI’deverseen)throughhishair.“So,wehaveadeal?Hatforpith—er,conga?”

“Deal.”Samhandedoverhisnubhat,wegrabbedthepithos,andthetwoofusshotoutoftherebeforewebecamedoggietreats.

OnvisitnumbertwotoSaintLouisCemeteryNumberOne

—afterhoursthistime—wecrouchedbehindatomb,thepithosbetweenus.Ihadjustunzippedmybackpacktogetmydualactiontoothbrush—itturnedintoaswordandpreventedtoothdecay—whenIheardthesoundofbrickscrapingagainstbrick.Iriskedapeek.Ashadowyformmovedswiftlythroughthegloomanddisappeared.

“Something’soutthere,”Ihissed.

“Where?”“Behindyou,”saida

gravellyvoice.SamandIwhirled

around.Aseven-foot-tallman

leanedcasuallyagainstacrypt.Hewasdressedinatight-fittingpinstripedsuit,purplevest,andwhiteshirt.Atophatperchedonhisheadandasmokingcigardangledfromhismouth.Hisfacewaspaintedtolooklikeaskull.

Heworesunglasseswithonelensmissing.

Onethingwasinstantlyobvious:nowaywashegoingtofitintoourpithos.

TheMormo’slipspeeledbackinaghastlygrin.

“Lookatitsteeth,”Samwhimpered.

Therewereonlyfour,twoupperandtwolower,shapedlikesnakefangsandoozingvenom.“Letmeguess,”hesaid,hisvoiceraspyandlow.

“Youwantmetogetintoyourlittleclaypot.”

“Uh,justforasecond?”saidSam.

TheMormocackled,apparentlygenuinelyamused.“Youdemigods.NotonlywillInever,evergetintoyoursillypithos,Iamhighlydoubtfulthatyou’llevengetthechancetotryandmakeme.”

Ipulledoutmytoothbrush,flickedthe

bristles,andittransformedintoaCelestialbronzesword.“No?”Isaid.

“Nope,”saidtheMormo,andlazilysnappedhisfingers.

“Zane!”shoutedSam,andIspunaroundtofindahordeofghostsmovingtowardme.I’dforgottentheMormocouldsummonthem.Theirleader,athick-neckedwomanwithahatchetinonehandandadecapitatedchickenin

theother,flewatme.Idoubtedshecoulddomuchdamagewiththechicken.Thehatchet,though?Ididn’twaittofindout.Islicedmyswordstraightthroughhervaporousform.Shevanishedwithashriekandthestenchofsulfur.

Samyelledmynameagain.WhileI’dbeenplayingchickenwiththeChickenLady,theotherspectershadclosedinaroundhim.

“Duck!”Icried.HedroppedjustasI

swungmybladeinaswooping,neck-higharc.Theghostswinkedoutoneafteranother.

“Man,thatsmellsbad!”Samwavedhishandinfrontofhisnose.

TheMormostrodeintotheclearingandslow-clappedsarcastically.“Well-played.Let’sseewhatelseyoucanhandle.”

Ichargedforwardwithmyswordraised,piercinghislegtothebone.TheMormohowled.Ithrustagain—butthistime,Ihitnothing.AsplitsecondbeforeIstruck,heflickeredfromsolidtogas.

“Huh.Nicetrick.”“Ifyoulikethat,you’ll

lovethis.”TheMormosnappedhisfingers.

Severalvaultsburstopen.Skeletalremains,somewithmeatstillclingingtothe

bones,clatteredoutandassembledthemselvesintosemi-humans.Inthedistance,Ispottedmoreghostsfloatingtowardus.

Sampickedupapieceofwoodandswungitinalargecircle.Weattackedtogether.Thebonepeopleweknockedapartstayeddown,butmorekeptcoming.“There’stoomanyofthem!”Samcriedaswebackedaway,slicinganddicingforourlives.“Maybe

weshouldrunforit?”Alowrumbleshookthe

graveyard,andSamgroanedasfiveenormousspiritsmaterializedonourleft.“More?”hebleated.Buttheywereuninterestedinusandadvancedslowlyonthepithos,whichwe’dleftbehindafewcryptsover.

Thesedemons’legswerethickred-brownpillarsoflumpyclay.Threeheldhammers;theirfaceswere

patchworksofpotteryshards.Scorchmarkscoveredthetorsoandfaceofthefourth,whoclutchedablazingtorch.Thelast,inexplicably,woreachef’shatontopofhismisshapenhead.

“Smash?”oneofthehammerdudesqueried.

“Destroy!”agreedthesecond.

“Shatter,”thethirdadded.“TheDemonsKaraoke,”

Samgroaned.“Forgotabout

them.”“Wecan’tletthem

destroythepithos,”Isaid.“Nowaywecantake

theseguys,”saidSaminahigh-pitchedvoice.

Somewherenearby,IheardtheMormocackle.NowIunderstoodhisconfidence—wewerefacingfivemassivedemons,ahordeofweapon-wieldingghosts,andaboutfortyslow-movingzombies.

That’sit.We’regoners.It’sover.

Samlookedatme,panicked,anddroppedhisstick.“Youhavetosaveus,”hesaid.

“Me?WhatdoyouthinkI’vebeentryingtodo?”

“No,”saidSam,frantically,“Imeanyouhavetocallonyourparenttohelpus.Youhavetouseyourpower!”Thedemonsmovedevencloser.Icouldseetheir

teeth,couldhearthehissingofthezombies,couldfeelthewindfromtheghosts.

“Idon’thaveanypowers,”Isaid.“You’veknownmemywholelife!Icouldn’teventiemyshoesuntillastyear!”

“Youdo,”insistedSam.“Everydemigodhassomepieceoftheirparent’spower.Youjustneedtomanifestit.Nowlistencarefully:Somegodsderivetheirpowersfrom

outsideofthemselves—theearth,thewind,thewaters—whileothergodsgettheirpowersfromtheirinsides—theirminds,theirsocialskills,theirfeelings.Whichonefeelsclosertoyou?”

“But—”“Now,”hesaid.

Selectachoice:

INTERNAL

EXTERNAL

“Inside,”Iblurted.Samnodded,thentooka

stepcloser.Istaredathim.“What?”Heputbothhandsonmy

shouldersandrubbedgently.“Takeadeepbreath.Relax.Nowgoahead.”

“Goaheadwithwhat?”“Manifestyourpower,

callonyourparent.Idon’tknowexactlyhowitworks,

I’mnotademigod,butitusuallylookslikeadeepbreathandthensomesortofzenfocusedconcentrationstuff.”

“You’vegottobekiddingme.”Zombiesandghostswerecomingindrovesnow.Ihadn’tseenthismanybrain-deadbulliessincewestartedmiddleschool.Samjuststaredatmeanxiously.Thedemonssnuffledandmovedevencloser.

Iinhaledandfocusedmyenergyinward,callingonmyparent—whoeveritwas—tohelp,togivemepower.Iopenedmyeyesandlookedaround.AllIsawwasafranticsatyrandanarmyoftheundead.Ibitmylipandfocusedevenharder,myknucklesturningwhitearoundthehiltofthesword…andthenIfeltit—somethingdeepinsidemychest,somethingthatmayhave

alwaysbeenthere.Theanswer.“Sam,what’sourmain

advantageovertheseguys?”“Uh,we’realive?”he

said.“No,”Isaid.“Speed.And

wedon’tneedtokillthem,right?Allwe’retryingtodoiscapturetheMormo.”

“Okay…”hesaid.“Sowesplitupandrunto

oppositesidesofthecemetery.Halfwillfollow

me,halfwillfollowyou.Wemeetbackinthemiddleinfiveminutes,andthat’llbuyusenoughtimetogettheMormointothepithos.”

“Idon’tknowif—”“Onthree.One.Two.

Three!”Beforemylazysatyrfriendcouldobject,Isprintedtomyright,easilyweavingbetweenthedimwittedzombiesandtheunfocusedghosts.I’drealizedtheobvious:theundeadwere

onlydangerousifyoutriedtofightthem,orwerestandingstill.Wedidn’tneedtodoeither.

TheenormouskaraokedemonstrudgedinmydirectionasIrantowardthefarside,dartinginbetweentoweringmausoleums.Themoonwasfullandbright,thezombiesslowanddoddering.Igottothefenceattheedgeofthepropertyandturnedaroundtoseeatleastforty

zombiesmovingtowardme,agoodsixty-fiveyardsaway.Thedemonswereevenfartherback,andtheghostsflittedabout,confused.TheMormowasaroundheresomewhere,butifhewaitedjustabitlonger,wecouldconfronthimastwoagainstoneinsteadoftwoagainstamillion.

Twosolidminuteswentbyuntilthehordewasalmostonme,andthenIjoggedina

loopingsemicirclearoundthem,backtothespotwhereI’dleftSam.Aboutthirtysecondslater,Samtrottedup,huffingandpuffing.

Ismiledandleanedagainstthenearestmausoleum.Wewerealoneinthealley.

“Look!”saidSam.HepointedatthetombIwasleaningagainst.ItwascoveredwithchalkX’s.“It’sMarie’s,”Samcrowed,

stoppingabruptlyasamistbegantooozefromthewall.Ileapedback.

Wewatchedinaweasthemistcoalescedintothetranslucentformofadark-skinnedwomanwearingaturban.Shepeeredatus,thenspokewithanindistinguishableliltingaccent.“YourequestedmyfavorwiththeMormo?”

“Yes.Yes!”Icouldn’tbelievetheXtrickhad

actuallyworked.“Canyouhelpuscapturehim?”

“I’mafraidallIcanofferismyadvice.ForyearsIwasabletokeeptheMormoatbay,butheisrelentless.Thezombiesandghostswillkeepcoming,andeventually,youwillbeoverwhelmed.Youronlyhopeistoneutralizehim.”

“Wehavethepithos…”Ioffered.

“Ah,yes.Buthoware

yougoingtogethiminsideit?Forthat,youneedanobjectofpower.”

“Awhat?”Iasked.“Anobjectofpower,”she

repeated.“ItriedmanyduringmytimeonEarth,butnonewasstrongenoughtoentraptheMormo.”

“They’reback!”shoutedSam,pointingtotwoapproachingskeletons.

“Wait,Ijustthoughtofsomething!”Ireachedinto

mypocketandremovedthewoodenringwe’dfoundunderthebridgeinAustin.IhelditouttoMarieLaveau.

Thespiritsmiled.“Ah,yes.Thatjustmightwork.”Shebegantofadeintotheabove-groundtomb.“Goodluck…”

“Holdon!”Icalledafterher.“Whatdowe—”

Butshewasgone.“Whatdoestheringdo?”

shoutedSam,ashekepthis

eyesonanotherhalf-animatedcorpse.

Istaredatthering.“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.

“Well,putiton!”shoutedSam,scanningthegraveyardwildlyasfourmoreundeadtrundledtowardus,theirtatteredclothesandclumpsofskindraggingalongtheground.“They’realmosthere!Comeon!”

Wetookcoverbehindacrumblingtombcordonedoff

withyellowcautiontape.Samdroppedareassuringhandonmyshoulder.Ipatteditandturnedtogivehimasmile.

Samstaredatmeinwide-eyedterror.Bothofhishandscoveredhismouth.Sowhosehandwas…?Ilookeddown.Myhandwasontopof…ahand.Noarm.Justahand.

“Yaaah!”Ihurleditfrommeandscrambledback.

“Mmmuhhhuummm.”A

zombielayontopofthetomb.Sherolledoff,landedwithawetthud,andlurchedtoherfeet.Red-rimmedeyesstaredoutofherbloatedandbruisedface.Hermattedhairhunginfilthyclumps.Herremaininghandclaspedasword…madeofCelestialbronze.

Isuckedinmybreath.“It’soneofthedemigodsHadestoldusabout.”

Shetookalaboriousstep

towardusandraisedherweapon.

Makethemfullydead…Hades’swordsflashedthroughmymind.OnethrustofmyswordandIcouldfreeherfromzombiedomandsendhertotheUnderworld.

ButIhesitated.Destroyingmonstersandvaporizingtheghostsoflongdeadpeoplewasonething.Stabbingafellowdemigod,evenazombifiedone—

“Ican’tdoit.”“Don’thaveto.”Sam

whippedthecautiontapeintoalasso,ropedthezombiegirl’storso,andwrappedheruptighterthanamummy.Asanafterthought,hetuckedherseveredhandintoafoldinthetape.“Thatmightcomeinhandylater.Ba-dumchhh!”Hemimedarimshot.

“Hilarious.Where’dyoulearntoropelikethat?”

“Knewademigodrodeo

cowboy.Longstory.I’ll—Watchout!”

Sampushedmeoutofthewayandkickedoneofhislegsforward…rightintothestomachofaboyzombiewieldingabowandarrows.IhadtostopmyselffromcheeringasSamtrussedhimupwithanorangeplasticretainingfence.

“Twozombiedemigodsdown,threetogo.”Hepickedupthezombiegirl’sfallen

swordandbegantostandguard.“Trythering.”

PUTONTHERING

“Outside,”Iblurted.Samnodded,thentooka

quickstepbackward.Istaredathim.“What?”Hegesturedexpansively

withbothhands.“Goahead.”“Goaheadwithwhat?”“Manifestyourpower,

callonyourparent.Idon’tknowexactlyhowitworks,I’mnotademigod,butforexternalgodlyparents,it

usuallylookslikeafullexhale,asharpinhale,andthenfocusedconcentrationlikeyou’retryingtoshootlasersoutofyoureyesorsomething.”

“You’vegottobekiddingme.”Zombiesandghostswerecomingindrovesnow.Ihadn’tseenthismanybrain-deadbulliessincewestartedmiddleschool.Samjuststaredatmeanxiously.Thedemonssnuffledandmoved

evencloser.Iexhaled.ThenItooka

deepbreathandfocusedallofmyenergyoutward,callingonmyparent—whoeveritwas—tohelp,togivemepower.Ireachedouttotheairandtheearth,thewaters,andthenthesun,tryingtoconnectmyselftoanyofit.Iopenedmyeyesandlookedaround.AllIsawwasafranticsatyrandanarmyofzombies.

Ibitmylipandfocusedevenharder,myknucklesturningwhitearoundthehiltofthesword.

Nothing.Wrongchoice,saida

familiarvoice.“What?”Isaid.“Huh?”saidSam.“I

didn’tsayanything.Youneedtohurry.”

IwarnedyouinAustin.Youmustbegintoknowyourself…saidthevoice,deep

insidemyhead.Inoddedandapologized

silently,shiftingmyattentioninward,tomyverycore…andthenIfeltit—somethingdeepinsidemychest,somethingthatmayhavealwaysbeenthere.

Theanswer.“Sam,what’sourmain

advantageovertheseguys?”“Uh,we’realive?”he

said.“No,”Isaid.“Speed.And

wedon’tneedtokillthem,right?Allwe’retryingtodoiscapturetheMormo.”

“Okay…”hesaid.“Sowesplitupandrunto

oppositesidesofthecemetery.Halfwillfollowme,halfwillfollowyou.Wemeetbackinthemiddleinfiveminutes,andthat’llbuyusenoughtimetogettheMormointothepithos.”

“Idon’tknowif—”“Onthree.One.Two.

Three!”Beforemylazysatyrfriendcouldobject,Isprintedtomyright,easilyweavingbetweenthedimwittedzombiesandtheunfocusedghosts.I’drealizedtheobvious:theundeadwereonlydangerousifyoutriedtofightthem,orwerestandingstill.Wedidn’tneedtodoeither.

TheenormouskaraokedemonstrudgedinmydirectionasIrantowardthe

farside,dartinginbetweentoweringmausoleums.Themoonwasfullandbright,thezombiesslowanddoddering.Igottothefenceattheedgeofthepropertyandturnedaroundtoseeatleastfortyzombiesmovingtowardme,agoodsixty-fiveyardsaway.Thedemonswereevenfartherback,andtheghostsflittedabout,confused.TheMormowasaroundheresomewhere,butifhewaited

justabitlonger,wecouldconfronthimastwoagainstoneinsteadoftwoagainstamillion.

Twosolidminuteswentbyuntilthehordewasalmostonme,andthenIjoggedinaloopingsemicirclearoundthem,backtothespotwhereI’dleftSam.Aboutthirtysecondslater,Samtrottedup,huffingandpuffing.

Ismiledandleanedagainstthenearest

mausoleum.Wewerealoneinthealley.

“Look!”saidSam.HepointedatthetombIwasleaningagainst.ItwascoveredwithchalkX’s.“It’sMarie’s,”Samcrowed,stoppingabruptlyasamistbegantooozefromthewall.Ileapedback.

Wewatchedinaweasthemistcoalescedintothetranslucentformofadark-skinnedwomanwearinga

turban.Shepeeredatus,thenspokewithanindistinguishableliltingaccent.“YourequestedmyfavorwiththeMormo?”

“Yes.Yes!”Icouldn’tbelievetheXtrickhadactuallyworked.“Canyouhelpuscapturehim?”

“I’mafraidallIcanofferismyadvice.ForyearsIwasabletokeeptheMormoatbay,butheisrelentless.Thezombiesandghostswillkeep

coming,andeventually,youwillbeoverwhelmed.Youronlyhopeistoneutralizehim.”

“Wehavethepithos…”Ioffered.

“Ah,yes.Buthowareyougoingtogethiminsideit?Forthat,youneedanobjectofpower.”

“Awhat?”Iasked.“Anobjectofpower,”she

repeated.“ItriedmanyduringmytimeonEarth,butnone

wasstrongenoughtoentraptheMormo.”

“They’reback!”shoutedSam,pointingtotwoapproachingskeletons.

“Wait,Ijustthoughtofsomething!”Ireachedintomypocketandremovedthewoodenringwe’dfoundunderthebridgeinAustin.IhelditouttoMarieLaveau.

Thespiritsmiled.“Ah,yes.Thatjustmightwork.”Shebegantofadeintothe

above-groundtomb.“Goodluck…”

“Holdon!”Icalledafterher.“Whatdowe—”

Butshewasgone.“Whatdoestheringdo?”

shoutedSam,ashekepthiseyesonanotherhalf-animatedcorpse.

Istaredatthering.“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.

“Well,putiton!”shoutedSam,scanningthegraveyardwildlyasfourmoreundead

trundledtowardus,theirtatteredclothesandclumpsofskindraggingalongtheground.“They’realmosthere!Comeon!”

Wetookcoverbehindacrumblingtombcordonedoffwithyellowcautiontape.Samdroppedareassuringhandonmyshoulder.Ipatteditandturnedtogivehimasmile.

Samstaredatmeinwide-eyedterror.Bothofhishands

coveredhismouth.Sowhosehandwas…?Ilookeddown.Myhandwasontopof…ahand.Noarm.Justahand.

“Yaaah!”Ihurleditfrommeandscrambledback.

“Mmmuhhhuummm.”Azombielayontopofthetomb.Sherolledoff,landedwithawetthud,andlurchedtoherfeet.Red-rimmedeyesstaredoutofherbloatedandbruisedface.Hermattedhairhunginfilthyclumps.Her

remaininghandclaspedasword…madeofCelestialbronze.

Isuckedinmybreath.“It’soneofthedemigodsHadestoldusabout.”

Shetookalaborioussteptowardusandraisedherweapon.

Makethemfullydead…Hades’swordsflashedthroughmymind.OnethrustofmyswordandIcouldfreeherfromzombiedomand

sendhertotheUnderworld.ButIhesitated.

Destroyingmonstersandvaporizingtheghostsoflongdeadpeoplewasonething.Stabbingafellowdemigod,evenazombifiedone—

“Ican’tdoit.”“Don’thaveto.”Sam

whippedthecautiontapeintoalasso,ropedthezombiegirl’storso,andwrappedheruptighterthanamummy.Asanafterthought,hetuckedher

severedhandintoafoldinthetape.“Thatmightcomeinhandylater.Ba-dumchhh!”Hemimedarimshot.

“Hilarious.Where’dyoulearntoropelikethat?”

“Knewademigodrodeocowboy.Longstory.I’ll—Watchout!”

Sampushedmeoutofthewayandkickedoneofhislegsforward…rightintothestomachofaboyzombiewieldingabowandarrows.I

hadtostopmyselffromcheeringasSamtrussedhimupwithanorangeplasticretainingfence.

“Twozombiedemigodsdown,threetogo.”Hepickedupthezombiegirl’sfallenswordandbegantostandguard.“Trythering.”

PUTONTHERING

Iswallowedonce,hard,leanedmyownswordagainstanearbycrypt,thenslippedtheringontomyfinger.Iwinced,readyforanything…

Ifeltdizzyandmystomachmovedintomythroat,asifIwasdescendingtoofastinanelevator.Thelandscapehadchanged—itwasnowunrecognizable—butmybodydidn’tfeel

different.Itriedtosummonlightningboltsorstirragingfloodwaters.Itriedtocalldownthesunorraisecropsfromthemuddyearth.Nothing.IlookedtoSamindespair,and—

Hewashuge!Agiant!Iwasonlyastallashisshoe.Theringhadshrunkme!

Hewasfranticallysearchingforme.“Zane?”shoutedSam.“Comeback!”

Ipulledoneofhis

shoelacestogethisattention.“I’mright—”

“Ahh!”heshouted,swingingthedemigod’ssword.

Iduckedinstinctively,eventhoughthebladewasnowhereneartheground.“Sam!”Iscreamed.Itsoundedlikeasqueak.“I’mrighthere!”

Helookedaroundwildly,thenraisedtheswordagain.Ifinallyrememberedtoyank

theringoffmyfinger,andmypersonalelevatorinstantlybroughtmebacktosize.AsIshookoffthefeelingofvertigo,Sammadeachokingsoundandfellbackward.“Youweregone!”hesaid.

“Ididn’tgoanywhere…”Isaid.“Justdown.Iwastiny!”

“Theincredibleshrinkingring!”hesaid,mouthagape.

TheMormo’slaughterechoedacrossthecemetery,

andafreshwaveofskeletonsandhalf-decomposedcorpsessludgedtowardus.Inthedistance,Iheardtheenormouskaraokedemonsgruntingandmoving.Ithoughtfast.“MariesaidwehadtousetheringtobeattheMormo.”

“Buthowcanbeingtinyconvincehimtogoinsidethepithos?”askedSam.

“Idon’tknowyet.ButIfeellikeyoushouldwearit.

Wemightbeabletosurprisehimifhecan’tseeoneofus,”Isaid.

“You…trustmetodothat?”askedSam.

“Sam,you’reasmuchofaheroasIam,”Isaid.Aslow,scrapingsoundfilledtheairandIshivered.“Okay,”Isaid,handinghimthering.“Go.”

Samlookedatmenervouslyandslippedtheringontohisfinger,instantly

disappearing.“DidIshrink?”cameasmallvoicefrombelow.

“Definitely,”Isaid,lookingdownandbeingcarefulnottomovemyfeet.“You’reacutelittleteenytinygoatman.”

“Shutup.I’mgoingtoheadleftandseeifhefollowsme,”saidSam,hisvoicegrowingincreasinglyfaintashemovedaway.“Youcancountonme!”

Ineededareally,reallygoodidea.WhatwouldtheMormowant?WhatcouldIpromisehimwasinsidethepithos?

Thescrapingsoundgrewlouder,andIduckeddown,layingthepithosonitsside.

“Overhere,fangface!”IheardSamsqueak.Fortunately,hestillhadabigmouthforsuchalittleguy.

IsawtheMormostopandturn.“Here’swhat’sgoingto

happen,demigod,”hecalled,bothhisteethandhisvoiceoozingvenom.“Eventually,I’mgoingtocatchyourfriend,andI’mgoingtokillhim.ThenI’mgoingtocomebackandkillyou.Youwon’tleave,becauseyouhavetogetmeintothatfragilelittlepithos…andI’mnotever,evergoingtodothat.AndifIdon’tgetyou…thezombieswill.”Hesmiledalittlewider,thensetoffinthe

directionofSam’svoice.“No!”Ishouted,andtook

afewstepsforward,butIcouldn’tleavethepithosunattended.“Sam!Comeback!”

Whentheonlyreplywasthegruntingoftheundead,somethinginsidemesnapped,andItookoffrunningaftertheMormo.Iwasn’tgoingtoleavemybestfriendalone,notwhenhewasthesizeofamouseinazombie-filled

NewOrleansgraveyardwithadeadlydemonchasingafterhim.“Sam!”Icalledagain.ThenIstartedsingingourcodesong.“OhwhentheSaints!Gomarchingin!”ItwasmywayoftellingSamthatweneededtogetout,thatnoneofthiswasworthit,thatI’dratherhavemybestfriendalivethanknowwhomygodlyparentwas,orkillabunchofzombies,ormakeHadeshappy.

“OhwhentheSaintsgomarchingin!”IheardSam’svoiceanswerandIfollowedit,loopingaroundbacktowardthepithos.“OhIwanttobeinthatnumber!OhwhentheSaintsgomarchingin!”

IturneddownalongaisleofmausoleumstoseetheMormonarrowinginonanaisle.Isangevenlouder,hopingSamwouldtakethehintandgetout.“Ohwhen

theSaints—”Now,I’mnotthegreatest

singer,butIcancarryatune.SowhattheMormodidnextastonishedme.

Hecoveredhisearsandsqueezedhiseyesshut,justlikethelittleboyinPreservationHall.Thenhestartedkeeningasifinagony.

Guessnoteveryoneisamusiclover.

Music,Ithought.Musicishisweakness.Ithurtshim.

Jazzedbymyrevelation,Istoppedinmid-song.Thatwasamistake.TheMormosprintedtowardme.“Sam,sing!Singandtrytogetascloseasyou—”

Fromoutofnowhere,Sam’sreedyvoicepickedupwhereI’dleftoff.“OhwhentheSaintsgomarchingin.”

TheMormoclampedhishandsoverhisearsagainandgrimacedinpain.Hesnappedhisfingers,sendingacluster

ofzombiesmyway,andanotherinthedirectionofSam’svoice.

“Keepgoing!”IshoutedtoSam.“I’llgetthepithos!”

“Theringisworking!Thezombiescan’tfigureoutwhereIam!”Samshoutedback.“Wait,I’vegotanevenbetteridea….”

Isprintedaroundthestandingmausoleums,searchingforthepyramid-shapedtombwhereI’dleft

thepithos.Behindme,IheardtheMormo’showlingmeltintoSam’scaterwauling.

“Keepitup!”IshoutedasIspottedthepithos.IgrabbeditandranbacktofindtheMormowrithinginpainontheground,whileahordeofzombieskneltaroundhim,seeminglysearchingforSam.Mysatyrfriendwasstillsinging—hesoundedveryclosenow.

ThenIspottedhim—he

wasstandingontheMormo’sshoulder,singingrightintohisear.

IstartedsingingmyheartouttooasIlaidthejaronitssideanduncappedit.

“WhentheSaintsgomarchingin!”

Wefinishedthechorusandstoppedsinging.

TheMormodroppedhishands.

“Youcan’tbitebothofusatthesametime!”Iyelled.

“Whicheveroneofusyouattack,theotherwillgoalldivaonyou!”

“AndIknowItalianopera!”Samadded.

“Gahh!”TheMormobegantodissolve,andSamjumpedtotheground.IftheMormovanishednow,weweresunk….

Imovedforward.“Youcan’tescapemusic!”Icriedindesperation.“It’severywhere!”

Hesolidifiedagain.“NotifIdestroyitwhereitreigns!”Hestoodandprowledbackandforthlikeacagedlion.“SilencingNewOrleansjazzisjustthefirststep.Nashville,Memphis,Detroit,Seattle,Cleveland—”

“Country,blues,Motown,grunge,”saidSamfromsomewherenearmyleftshoe.“Wait.Cleveland?”

“RockandRollHallofFame,”Isupplied.

“Ah.”Thepiecesfellintoplace.

“Zombiescan’tsingorplayinstruments,canthey?Noteventhetrom-bone—ba-dumchhh!”

Samaddedaslidingnote.“Wah-wah-waaaaah.”

“Silence!”theMormoshrieked.“Imusthavesilence!”

“That’swhyyou’remakingzombies—tohelpyousilenceallmusic.Well,

there’sonlyoneplacewhereyoucangetthepeaceandquietyouwant.”

Rightoncue,IheardSam’swordsechofrominsidethepithos.“Yeah!Inhere!”

“Never!”TheMormorushedme,fastaslightning.

“Ninety-ninebottlesofgoatmilkonthewall!Ninety-ninebottlesofmilk!”Sam’svoicereverberatedintheemptyjar.“Youtakeone

down—”“Gahhh!”TheMormofell

tohisknees.“—andpassitaround—”“He’sgotninety-eight

versestogo.Sowhat’sitgoingtobe?EternalpeacewithinthepithosorthemusicalrenderingsofSamtheSatyr?”MakingsureSamwasnolongerinside,Irightedthejar.“It’syourchoice.”

“Ninety-sixbottlesof—”

TheMormoshape-shiftedintogas.Likeageniereturningtoitsbottle,hevanishedintothepithos.Iquicklyslammeddownthelid.

“—onedown,passitaround—”

“Sam,youcanstopnow.Wegothim!”

“Ninety-five—Oh.”Sambrokeoff.“Wegothim?”

“Wedid,andguesswhat?Itwouldn’thavehappened

withoutyou,theso-calledlowlysatyr!EvenHadeswouldhavetoadmitthat.”

“Icouldn’thavebeenmuchlowlier,that’sforsure.”Samsuddenlygrewbacktonormalsizebesideme.“Ah,that’sbetter.Here,takethis.I’vehadenoughofbeingacemeteryrat.”Hepassedmethering.“Yourplanworked.”

“Itwasn’tanactualplan,”Isaid,smiling.Welookedaroundasthezombiesslowly

blinkedandstraightenedup,colorrushingbackintotheirgrayskin.Hadeshadbeenright—freedoftheMormo’scurse,thespiritswerereturningtotheirrightfulbodies.

Then,frombehindthepyramid-shapedtomb,thefiveenormouskaraokedemonsshuffledout.“Ohman,”Samwhimpered.“Iwasjustabouttocelebrate.”

“Butwecapturedthe

Mormo!”Iprotested.“Howcometheseguysdidn’tpoofaway?”

“TheMormosummonedthem,buthedidn’tcreatethem.Theyexistwithorwithouthim.”

SamandImovedbacktoback,thejarbetweenourfeet,swordspoisedandready.Thedaimoneskeramikoishuffledforward,theirlegsmakingsquishingsoundsastheymoved.AndIheardother

noises,too—scuffling,scraping,andwhispersfrombehindthesurroundingtombs.

“Sam,thekeramikoiaren’touronlyproblem,”Ihissed.“Somethingelseoutthereisaboutto—”

“Attack!”Afiguresprangoutofthedarkness,yellingatthetopofhislungs.Fourothersracedtojoinhim.

WhenIwasakid,IsawthiscornyWesternmovie

wherethecavalryrodeinandsavedtheday.NowIwaslivingthatscene.Fivedirtybutverymuchalivedemigods—onetrailingyellowcautiontape,anotherwithanorangemeshvest—cameoutofnowhereandrushedtoouraid.Anarrowpiercedthetorch-wieldingarmofthedemonIassumedwasCharrer.Itdissipatedwithabellow.Agirlwearingthickleatherglovesflunga

razor-edgeddiscus,slicingoneofthehammerdudesinhalf.Thethreeotherdemigodseachpickedoffakeramikoi.Momentsafterthebattlebegan,itwasover.

Thedemigodsstrodetowardus.Theirclotheswereintattersandtheirhairhadseenbetterdays,butotherwisetheyseemedunharmed.InotedwithreliefthatbothofCautionTape’shandswereinplace.

Grinning,sheheldthepreviouslyseveredoneoutandsaid,“Putitthere.I’mTabitha.”WhenIhesitated,sheadded,“Don’tworry.It’sonniceandtight.”

Tabithaintroducedustotheothers.“Mingistheonerockingthediscus.You’vemetEly,withthebowandfancynewvest.Theothersare—”

Introductionswerecutshortwhentheground

rumbledandgavewaynearthepithos.Afigureemergedfromtheholeandbrusheddirtoffhissuit.

“Hadesisinthehouse,”Sammuttered.

Thelordofthedeadcasuallytoedthepithosintothehole.WhenIdidn’thearithitearth,IguessedtheholetunneledallthewaytotheUnderworld.

“Zane,walkwithme.”Hadescrookedhisfingerat

Sam.“You,too.”“Me?”Samsounded

surprised.“Youhaveproven

yourselfworthyofthegods’gratitude,satyr.SowhatIamabouttorevealconcernsyouaswell.”

Westrolledashortdistancethroughthecemetery.“Tellme,demigod,haveyoufiguredoutyourparent’sidentity?”

Myhearthammeredin

mychest.“I—Ihavemysuspicions.”

“Andifyoursuspicionsdon’tmatchyourhopes?Willyoubedisappointed?”

Iliftedmychin.“Iwillbesatisfiedjustknowingthetruth.”

“Andyou,SamGreenwood.Willyoucontinuebythishero’ssideregardlessofancestry?”

“Always,”Samrepliedwithouthesitation.

“Verywell.”Hadesthrewhisarmsopenwideandcried,“Thetimehascometoclaimthisdemigodasyourchild!”

Nothinghappenedatfirst.Thenaglowingwhiteowlclutchingasilverolivebranchappearedabovemyhead,spinningslowly.

“Wow,”IbreathedasIstaredatit.“Just…wow.”Samgaveanawedbleat.

Theotherfivedemigodsjoinedus.Theycongratulated

me,andTabithagavemeawarmhug.“Wetookavote,andit’sunanimous.Ifeitherofyoueverneedahand”—shegrinnedandwiggledherfingers—“justhollerandwe’llbethere.”

“Friendsforlife,”Elyadded.Theothersechoedtheiragreement.

“Relishthismoment,demigod,”Hadesadvised.“You’veearnedit.”

“No.”Islungmyarm

aroundSam’sshoulders.“We’veearnedit.”

Hadesnoddedsolemnlyandthenstompedhisfootonce.Thegroundswallowedhimup,leavingbehindafreshmoundofdirt.

“Gottalovethedramaticexit,”Samsaid.Thenhelookedpastme.Hiseyeswidenedandheslippedoutfromundermyarm.“Zane,youknowhowIvowedtostaybyyourside?Well,

there’sonethingyouneedtodoalone.”

“Huh?”“Someone’swaitingfor

you.”Samgentlyturnedmearound.

Iblinked.Standingnottwentyfeetawaywasastatuesquewomanwithalightgraycloakwrappedaroundhershoulders.Thickblackhairwastuckedbehindherears,accentuatingintensegrayeyesandtheangular

peaksofherface.“Zane,”shestretched

botharmstowardme.IrecognizedthevoiceastheonethathadspokeninsidemymindinAustin.“I’vebeenlookingforwardtothismomentforalongtime.”

Imovedtowardherslowly,suddenlyhesitant.“Whydidyouwaitsolong?”Iasked.

Athenatouchedthesideofmyfacetentatively.“I

havelookedforyou.”Hervoicecaught.“Butyouwerekepthiddenfromme.I…itisastoryforanothertime.Whatisimportantisthatyouhaveagreatfutureaheadofyou,Zane,andIamproudtocallyoumyson.”

“Well,youhavetwonewchildren,”Isaid.“Samisgoingwithmeeverywherefromhereonout.”

Samnervouslyinchedinourdirection.“It’sokayif

youdon’t…”Athenasmiled

benevolentlyandgesturedSamover.“You’veshownincrediblebravery,SamGreenwood.Iacceptallthechoicesofmychildren,butthisoneIembrace—Ibelieveitwillbeawisechoiceindeed.”

InoddedatSamasmymomwrappedthetwoofusinawarmhug.Itfeltlikefriendshipandlove—all

rolledintoonefurry,goat-scentedball.ItfeltlikeIwashome.

ThenAthenawinkedoutinaflashoflight.

IturnedtoSamandshrugged.Hesmiledandshruggedback.

“ThinkthismeansI’llacetheSATs?”Iasked,andSamlaughed.

AnunfamiliarfeelingofcontentmentsettledovermeasItookinthewarmbreeze,

thedistantsoundsofjazz,andourfivenewdemigodfriendssprawledagainstanearbycrypt.

Forthefirsttimeinmylife,IfeltlikeIbelonged,andIwasreadyforwhatevercamenext.

THEEND

RICKRIORDANistheauthoroftheNewYorkTimes#1best-sellingTheHeroesofOlympus,BookOne:TheLostHero;TheHeroesofOlympus,BookTwo:TheSonofNeptune;TheHeroesofOlympus,BookThree:TheMarkofAthena;TheHeroesofOlympus,BookFour:TheHouseofHades;theNewYorkTimes#1best-sellingTheKaneChronicles,BookOne:TheRedPyramid;The

KaneChronicles,BookTwo:TheThroneofFire;TheKaneChronicles,BookThree:TheSerpent’sShadow;theNewYorkTimes#1best-sellinge-shortTheSonofSobek;aswellasthefivebooksintheNewYorkTimes#1best-sellingPercyJacksonandtheOlympiansseries.HisnovelsforadultsincludethehugelypopularTresNavarreseries,winnerofthetopthreeawardsinthemysterygenre.

HelivesinBoston,Massachusetts,withhiswifeandtwosons.Formoreinformation,gotowww.rickriordan.com.

http://www.rickriordan.com

Text copyright © 2015 by Rick Riordan Cover art by Antonio...

Documents

Transcript of Text copyright © 2015 by Rick Riordan Cover art by Antonio...