The Demigods of Olympus

by Rick Riordan

  “And you answered this correctly?”

  “In seconds. I just closed my eyes to look in the dark and I saw the answer,” I said with as much bravado as I could muster.

  “Hm,” the leonte said and sat, thinking.

  Sam looked at me and I nodded with what I hoped was confidence as I moved a few steps closer to the locker.

  The leonte glared at me, then at Sam. After a moment, he carefully closed his eyes and I lunged for the locker, unsheathing the sword and slashing the blade across the monster’s chest. He collapsed, howling in pain. The blade glowed with a faint bronze light.

  “Miserable demigod!” The lion’s fur disintegrated. His limbs crumbled into columns of yellow powder. “You will never succeed! Your quest will not…”

  He collapsed into a pile of dust.

  For a moment, the library was as silent as…well, a library.

  Sam let out a delayed bleat. “Wow! That—that was—”

  “Terrifying?” I asked. My hands shook. My legs could barely hold up my weight.

  I had officially reached maximum weirdness overload. I wanted to crawl into Sam’s secret storage cabinet, close the door, and cry for a week.

  Instead, things just got weirder.

  YOU HAVE DONE WELL. A woman’s voice echoed around the abandoned room.

  Wind swept through the broken window, ruffling the open books, blowing torn pages across the floor.

  Dust motes swirled in a shaft of sunlight, solidifying into the form of a woman. She wore luminous white robes covered in intricate black patterns…words, I realized, as if her clothes were woven from e-reader screens. Dark hair curled around her timeless face. Her eyes bored right through me.

  Sam bowed. “Your—Your Greatness. Your Most Well-Read Majesty.”

  “Mnemosyne,” I guessed. “The goddess of memory.”

  The goddess inclined her head. “And you are the hero I have heard so much about.”

  I realized I was pointing my weapon at the goddess, which probably wasn’t a smart idea. I lowered it. “You’ve heard about me?”

  “Oh, yes.” Mnemosyne sighed. “I never forget a story, or a name, or a face. Actually, I never forget anything. Being the memory goddess can be quite annoying. I saw this horrible Ben Stiller movie fifteen years ago and I still can’t get the dialogue out of my mind.”

  “Uh, okay,” I said. “But getting back to me…”

  “Yes,” the goddess agreed. She scanned the ruins of the library. “You did me a service, cleansing this place of the monster’s filth. Once, this was a holy site of learning, reading, and free Internet. Alas, the mortals consider such things of little value. You, my young hero, have many adventures ahead of you. Your quest will be remembered for centuries, written about in many books…assuming, of course, you survive. To aid in your journey, I offer you a gift.” The goddess swept her white robes aside to reveal a small wooden lectern with three items on top of it. “Depending on how well you know yourself, it may help you. Or not. Choose wisely.”

  What kind of gifts would a goddess give? I thought. Gold? Frankincense? An iPod? I walked excitedly over to the lectern, but my heart sank when I scanned the items: an old library card, a battered pair of glasses, and a small section of white cloth.

  I looked to Sam, but he only nodded encouragingly and echoed her words, “Choose wisely, Zane.”

  Very helpful, I thought. I guess he was serious about me making all the decisions.

  Slowly, I extended my hand and took the library card.

  The goddess nodded and her robes swung forward, enveloping the lectern. “An excellent choice, my young hero,” she said. “I wish you well.”

  “Wait!” I gulped. “Do you—do you know who my godly parent is?”

  “Ah…” The lines around the goddess’s eyes tightened, almost as if she felt sorry for me. “That you must learn for yourself. I can only set you on the path.”

  She turned to Sam. “My young satyr Greenwood, you must lead your friend to Austin. There you will find the answers you seek.”

  “Austin, Texas…?” Sam’s face blanched. “But Austin has, um, those special monsters…”

  “Yes, it does,” said the goddess. “Your quest will not be easy, but it is necessary.” She looked at me again. “If you would know your true parentage, go to Austin. Seek out the river god Barton. Do not forget me, hero. Rest assured, I will not forget you.”

  The goddess dissolved into sunlight.

  Sam made a small whimpering noise. “Austin…oh, I still have nightmares about Austin.”

  I tried to control my racing heartbeat. I couldn’t quite believe I’d had a conversation with an immortal goddess. “What—what happened to you in Austin? What kind of river god is named Barton? And what are those special monsters you mentioned?”

  His lower lip quivered. “I’ll tell you all that when we get closer. I promise. If I have to talk about it now…”

  His eyes welled with tears. I realized Sam was even more shaken up about today’s events than I was. So yeah, maybe he knew all about this weird world of gods and monsters. And maybe the gods had assigned him to protect me. But he was still my friend, and I would have to step up and protect him, too.

  I looked around at all the scattered books, covered with dust. Mnemosyne had claimed that my deeds would be written about someday, assuming I survived. I didn’t care about being famous. I did care about surviving. If I had to be in a story, I didn’t want the ending to read: And he died painfully.

  “It’s going to be all right,” I told Sam. “We’re in this together. I don’t like the idea of staying here overnight, though. How about we get going?”

  Sam took a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s a long way to Austin.”

  “Then let’s get started.” I grabbed one of the hiking packs and slung it over my shoulder. “Let’s go find out who my godly parent is.”

  GO TO AUSTIN

  WARNING! You’re about to spoil a great story by not making a choice! Page back, then click one of the links to advance the story. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.

  “Woods,” I said slowly, worrying that the leonte was simply waiting at the edge of the tree line for us to come back.

  Sam nodded, thinking. “Maybe that’s a better choice.”

  “Has to be better than this one,” I said, starting back toward the forest.

  “Not necessarily,” said Sam.

  Together we carefully entered the woods. Not seeing any sign of the leonte, we sprinted through the trees until we reached the edge of the river. I was having second thoughts as we stared at the frothing water, the swirling eddies, the sharp-edged rocks…until a loud growl brought me back to my new reality.

  Sam shuddered. “Give me your folder. Just in case.”

  I hadn’t even thought about the red folder getting ruined. I handed it to Sam, who pulled a Ziploc bag out of his backpack. He wrapped up the folder and stuffed it in his bag.

  “Why do you always carry Ziplocs?” I asked.

  “They make great snacks.”

  I hoped he was kidding. Then again, I had no idea what satyrs considered tasty junk food.

  I took a few steps back and inhaled deeply.

  Another roar, this time much closer.

  “Go!” said Sam, and I sprinted for the river. When I reached its bank, I planted my foot in the soft mud and took a wild leap. I knew immediately that I’d misjudged the distance, and I flailed my arms as I crashed near the opposite bank.

  I landed hard in the shallow water, a small boulder high-fiving my chest and smashing the wind out of me. I moaned as I clung to the slippery rock and tried to catch my breath, the howls of the leonte growing closer.

  Two hooves landed with a thump right in front of my face, and I looked up to see Sam there, staring down at me with a concerned look. “Not sure this was the best decision,” he said, reaching down and yanking me to my feet. I winced, ignoring the pain shooting through my limbs. “We’re stuck with it, though,
so come on.”

  He took off running through the woods, and I did my best to follow. My knee ached from the fall, and I was sure my chest was bruised. Five minutes…then ten. How far was this place?

  Sam had to keep stopping to wait for me. “I think the leonte ran downstream,” he said, anxiously looking behind me. “Probably looking for a better place to cross. That’ll buy us a little more time, but we really, really have to hurry.”

  Too winded to speak, I nodded and gulped as much air as I could. Sweat poured down my face and my thighs screamed in protest. Twice I fell and had to be hauled to my feet by my satyr protector.

  I was contemplating whether death by lion would be more or less painful than a heart attack when we burst into a clearing behind the old public library.

  “Yes!” said Sam. “Let’s get inside!”

  The town library had been shut down several years ago—something about state funding cuts. With its red brick facade, white columns, and clock tower, the library had always been the nicest building on Main Street. Now that it was closed, it felt like the town’s heart had stopped beating.

  The windows were dark. The main entrance was boarded up. Taggers had spray-painted neon graffiti across the front steps.

  “How do we get in?” I asked.

  “Around the side.” Sam led me to a storm cellar entrance half-hidden in the bushes. A big padlock hung from the latch, but Sam produced a key from his backpack and opened the lock.

  “You’re full of surprises,” I noticed.

  Sam shrugged. “It’s nothing fancy inside, but at least the goddess might protect us.”

  “There’s a goddess…?”

  Sam nodded and descended into the cellar. I didn’t feel so sure about following him into the dark, but I also didn’t want to wait around for the leonte to catch up. I climbed down the steps and closed the door behind us.

  That’s when I heard it…the rustle of little feet scurrying across the floor. And squeaking. Lots of squeaking.

  “S-Sam? What’s that?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

  Sam paused to listen before taking his next step down. “Oh, I’m sure it’s just—”

  “Rats,” I blurted, a shudder running through my body. “Oh, no. I can’t go down there, Sam. I can’t.”

  “Oh,” said Sam. “That’s right.” He pulled a flashlight from his backpack, wincing as the beam swept across rows of moldering cardboard boxes, stacks of folding chairs…and a moving, furry floor. There were rats everywhere—hundreds of them. My chest clenched up, and I felt like the walls were closing in. I turned and started back up the stairs, but Sam grabbed me and shook his head. “The leonte,” he whispered.

  “But you know how I feel about rats,” I said.

  “You’re going to have to get over it,” said Sam. “There’s really no other choice.”

  I took a deep breath. The basement smelled of mildew and rust and wet fur (though I guessed that last smell could be from Sam). He panned the flashlight over the writhing, squeaking floor, landing the beam on a small set of stairs directly opposite us. “There,” he said. “Those stairs lead to the main reading room. If we can make it across, we’ll be safe.”

  “But how?” I said. “There must be a million of them!”

  “Maybe you can get on my shoulders?” said Sam doubtfully.

  “And risk you dropping me in the middle of the rat ocean? Fat chance.”

  “Well, do you have any other ideas?” asked Sam, shining the light around the room.

  Something brushed against my leg and I jumped straight up in the air, trying not to scream. This was literally my worst nightmare come true.

  “There’re no other options?” I asked, angry that my voice sounded so weak and frightened.

  “Um,” said Sam. “Not really, no.”

  I nodded, glad the darkness was hiding my face. “This hero thing is the worst.”

  I heard him laugh, then pause. “It’ll probably get worse.”

  “It can’t get worse. This is the worst. The worst thing ever. In the whole wide world. That’s ever happened. Ever.”

  He was quiet for a second. “But if you can get through this, you can probably get through anything, right? In the whole wide world? Ever?”

  “Do you enjoy being annoying?” I asked. Then I sighed, knowing he was right. I had to start facing my fears if I wanted to be a hero. “What do we do?”

  “They won’t hurt us,” he said. “Just stay calm and move slowly. Slide your feet along the floor, and they won’t even know you’re there.”

  I tried to prevent myself from hyperventilating again, and to slow my racing heartbeat. Get it together, Zane, I thought. I nodded, then realized Sam couldn’t see me. “Okay,” I managed. “Let’s do it.”

  “I’m right here if anything happens,” said Sam. “I promise it’ll be okay.”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Let’s just do it.”

  “Okay,” said Sam. “I’ll point the light at the stairs. Just focus on those, not the floor. Hold onto my backpack,” he said, pulling it tight over both shoulders.

  I bit my lip and grabbed his bag, trying not to think about all those sharp little claws and weird naked tails and beady eyes.

  “On three, okay?” said Sam, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that I had a friend like him, someone who could literally get me to overcome my worst fears. Focus on that, I thought. Focus on the good.

  “One…” said Sam, and I closed my eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “Two…Three.”

  We both exhaled as Sam slowly stepped forward, sliding his feet along the floor underneath the squirming masses. I followed, struggling to hold onto his bag, nearly tripping down the stairs. As my second foot reached the floor, I squeezed my eyes even tighter and focused on matching my breath to the shuffling of our feet. IN. Slide right, slide left. OUT. Slide right, slide left. IN. Just sliding along. OUT. Nothing creepy going on.

  Then…before I knew it, Sam’s backpack lifted as we stepped onto the opposite staircase.

  He turned to me. “You did it!” he exclaimed. As he hugged me, the flashlight cast weird shadows across the walls.

  Blood pumped in my ears and I could barely hear the squeaking anymore. I did do it. Maybe there was something heroic inside of me after all.

  I cleared my throat, hoping my voice would come out strong. “Thanks,” I said. “Let’s get upstairs.”

  Sam pointed the light up at a door, then bowed and extended his arm. “After you,” he said. “You earned it.”

  My knees were weak as I climbed into the library’s main reading room. I hadn’t been there since I was a little kid. Stacks of books marched off in all directions. A few bookshelves had been overturned. Some books formed piles in the corners like snowdrifts. Others were torn and strewn around, smashed by muddy footprints. Judging from the piles of wrappers and cans, and the articles of old clothing strewn across the furniture, we weren’t the only ones who had discovered a way in. On the marble floor near the exit were the remnants of an old campfire.

  I had mixed feelings about this place, but whatever you thought of libraries, there was no denying that this one was sad. Nobody had even bothered to sell or give away the books. The building had just been abandoned. Even the transients or local teenagers who’d broken in over the years didn’t care enough to bother with the books—except to use them as tinder for fires.

  In the center of the room, under the ornate domed ceiling, a ten-foot-tall statue stood on a high pedestal.

  The figure wore flowing robes. She held an open book in one hand like she was about to recite a poem. Her face was beautiful but stern. Her dark hair fell in ringlets around her face.

  I’m sure I’d seen the statue before, but I’d never paid it much attention. Now I realized what it was.

  “A Greek goddess?” I asked.

  Sam nodded. “The goddess of memory and language: Mnemosyne.”

  He pronounced it like Nemo Sign, though
as far as I could tell, the goddess had nothing to do with cartoon fish.

  “Never heard of her,” I admitted. “She’s not one of the big gods, I guess.”

  Sam cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t say things like that.”

  “It’s only a statue.”

  “It’s a statue of a goddess, and the gods are real. She’s one of the early Titan deities, one of the good Titans. She’s the mother of the Nine Muses who oversee all the arts: music, poetry, dancing, and whatnot. Anyway, libraries are Mnemosyne’s sacred place. Her spirit is strong here. She protects this place.”

  I looked around at the ruined furniture and piles of trash. “She’s doing a great job.”

  “Seriously, be more respectful.” Sam glanced at the goddess’s face. “Her presence will keep the monsters at bay. At least…it should. We’ll get our supplies together, rest here for the night, and figure out our next move.”

  “Our next move…” My heart sank. “So even if we defeat this other lion that’s following us—”

  “There will always be more monsters,” Sam said grimly. “Now that they’ve located you, they’ll never stop trying to kill you. You’re a demigod. Your life…well, from here on out, it’ll be hard. But I’ll be with you. You’re not alone.”

  I appreciated Sam saying that, but I was starting to process the fact that I couldn’t go home. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. My life had fundamentally changed. I would never be able to go back to anything resembling normal.

  Sam approached the base of the statue. He pushed the bronze plaque inscribed with the goddess’s name. The pedestal hissed, and the front part swung open like a refrigerator door.

  Inside was a locker almost as tall as I was. I spotted two hiking packs with bedrolls and water bottles. And hanging on the back wall of the cabinet was a sheathed sword with a blue gem glowing faintly on the pommel.

  Before I could say anything, a glass window shattered behind me. A lion even bigger than Ms. Roche crashed through and landed only ten feet away.

  “There you are.” The lion’s voice was definitely male. His snarling face was wreathed in a shaggy golden mane. His fully extended claws gleamed white. He rose on his haunches, which only made him look scarier. “You destroyed my sister,” he snarled. “Now I will destroy you.”