by Rick Riordan
Then, from behind the pyramid-shaped tomb, the five enormous karaoke demons shuffled out. “Oh man,” Sam whimpered. “I was just about to celebrate.”
“But we captured the Mormo!” I protested. “How come these guys didn’t poof away?”
“The Mormo summoned them, but he didn’t create them. They exist with or without him.”
Sam and I moved back to back, the jar between our feet, swords poised and ready. The daimones keramikoi shuffled forward, their legs making squishing sounds as they moved. And I heard other noises, too—scuffling, scraping, and whispers from behind the surrounding tombs.
“Sam, the keramikoi aren’t our only problem,” I hissed. “Something else out there is about to—”
“Attack!” A figure sprang out of the darkness, yelling at the top of his lungs. Four others raced to join him.
When I was a kid, I saw this corny Western movie where the cavalry rode in and saved the day. Now I was living that scene. Five dirty but very much alive demigods—one trailing yellow caution tape, another with an orange mesh vest—came out of nowhere and rushed to our aid. An arrow pierced the torch-wielding arm of the demon I assumed was Charrer. It dissipated with a bellow. A girl wearing thick leather gloves flung a razor-edged discus, slicing one of the hammer dudes in half. The three other demigods each picked off a keramikoi. Moments after the battle began, it was over.
The demigods strode toward us. Their clothes were in tatters and their hair had seen better days, but otherwise they seemed unharmed. I noted with relief that both of Caution Tape’s hands were in place. Grinning, she held the previously severed one out and said, “Put it there. I’m Tabitha.” When I hesitated, she added, “Don’t worry. It’s on nice and tight.”
Tabitha introduced us to the others. “Ming is the one rocking the discus. You’ve met Ely, with the bow and fancy new vest. The others are—”
Introductions were cut short when the ground rumbled and gave way near the pithos. A figure emerged from the hole and brushed dirt off his suit.
“Hades is in the house,” Sam muttered.
The lord of the dead casually toed the pithos into the hole. When I didn’t hear it hit earth, I guessed the hole tunneled all the way to the Underworld.
“Zane, walk with me.” Hades crooked his finger at Sam. “You, too.”
“Me?” Sam sounded surprised.
“You have proven yourself worthy of the gods’ gratitude, satyr. So what I am about to reveal concerns you as well.”
We strolled a short distance through the cemetery. “Tell me, demigod, have you figured out your parent’s identity?”
My heart hammered in my chest. “I—I have my suspicions.”
“And if your suspicions don’t match your hopes? Will you be disappointed?”
I lifted my chin. “I will be satisfied just knowing the truth.”
“And you, Sam Greenwood. Will you continue by this hero’s side regardless of ancestry?”
“Always,” Sam replied without hesitation.
“Very well.” Hades threw his arms open wide and cried, “The time has come to claim this demigod as your child!”
Nothing happened at first. Then a glowing white owl clutching a silver olive branch appeared above my head, spinning slowly.
“Wow,” I breathed as I stared at it. “Just…wow.” Sam gave an awed bleat.
The other five demigods joined us. They congratulated me, and Tabitha gave me a warm hug. “We took a vote, and it’s unanimous. If either of you ever need a hand”—she grinned and wiggled her fingers—“just holler and we’ll be there.”
“Friends for life,” Ely added. The others echoed their agreement.
“Relish this moment, demigod,” Hades advised. “You’ve earned it.”
“No.” I slung my arm around Sam’s shoulders. “We’ve earned it.”
Hades nodded solemnly and then stomped his foot once. The ground swallowed him up, leaving behind a fresh mound of dirt.
“Gotta love the dramatic exit,” Sam said. Then he looked past me. His eyes widened and he slipped out from under my arm. “Zane, you know how I vowed to stay by your side? Well, there’s one thing you need to do alone.”
“Huh?”
“Someone’s waiting for you.” Sam gently turned me around.
I blinked. Standing not twenty feet away was a statuesque woman with a light gray cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Thick black hair was tucked behind her ears, accentuating intense gray eyes and the angular peaks of her face.
“Zane,” she stretched both arms toward me. I recognized the voice as the one that had spoken inside my mind in Austin. “I’ve been looking forward to this moment for a long time.”
I moved toward her slowly, suddenly hesitant. “Why did you wait so long?” I asked.
Athena touched the side of my face tentatively. “I have looked for you.” Her voice caught. “But you were kept hidden from me. I…it is a story for another time. What is important is that you have a great future ahead of you, Zane, and I am proud to call you my son.”
“Well, you have two new children,” I said. “Sam is going with me everywhere from here on out.”
Sam nervously inched in our direction. “It’s okay if you don’t…”
Athena smiled benevolently and gestured Sam over. “You’ve shown incredible bravery, Sam Greenwood. I accept all the choices of my children, but this one I embrace—I believe it will be a wise choice indeed.”
I nodded at Sam as my mom wrapped the two of us in a warm hug. It felt like friendship and love—all rolled into one furry, goat-scented ball. It felt like I was home.
Then Athena winked out in a flash of light.
I turned to Sam and shrugged. He smiled and shrugged back.
“Think this means I’ll ace the SATs?” I asked, and Sam laughed.
An unfamiliar feeling of contentment settled over me as I took in the warm breeze, the distant sounds of jazz, and our five new demigod friends sprawled against a nearby crypt.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged, and I was ready for whatever came next.
THE END
RICK RIORDAN is the author of the New York Times #1 best-selling The Heroes of Olympus, Book One: The Lost Hero; The Heroes of Olympus, Book Two: The Son of Neptune; The Heroes of Olympus, Book Three: The Mark of Athena; The Heroes of Olympus, Book Four: The House of Hades; the New York Times #1 best-selling The Kane Chronicles, Book One: The Red Pyramid; The Kane Chronicles, Book Two: The Throne of Fire; The Kane Chronicles, Book Three: The Serpent’s Shadow; the New York Times #1 best-selling e-short The Son of Sobek; as well as the five books in the New York Times #1 best-selling Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. His novels for adults include the hugely popular Tres Navarre series, winner of the top three awards in the mystery genre. He lives in Boston, Massachusetts, with his wife and two sons. For more information, go to www.rickriordan.com.
