The Demigods of Olympus: An Interactive Adventure (2 page)

Ms. Roche frowned. “The incident report says that no one else felt anything.”

“The quake was real,” I insisted. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I grabbed Lexi’s phone and dialed 9-1-1.”

Ms. Roche’s eyes gleamed with a strange light. “Lexi is a friend of yours? Why did you make the call from your friend’s phone and not your own?”

“I—I don’t have a phone. My folks…they won’t let me have one. Anyway, Lexi accidentally left her cell phone at my house the day before and I still had it, so I used it, because…” I faltered. I really didn’t like the way Ms. Roche was staring at me, like she was enjoying my discomfort. “Why do you care if I have a cell phone?” I asked. “And what does it have to do with the cafeteria incident?”

“Oh, it all ties together, my dear. Your lack of a phone explains a great deal—such as why we didn’t detect your presence sooner.”

My mouth went dry. “Detect…my presence?”

The second hand on the wall clock ticked. I started fingering my lucky coin again. The details of the office came into sharper focus. On the table behind Ms. Roche was a stack of red folders like the one she was using for my notes. The folder on top of mine had an intricate gold seal and the word
CONFIDENTIAL
stamped across it.

“Wh-what does a red folder mean?” I stammered. “And why do I have one?”

“Oh, my dear…” Ms. Roche rose. “Because you’re very special.”

For the first time, I realized that her hair was the same color as that flash of movement I’d seen in the hallway—but that couldn’t have been Ms. Roche. No human could have moved that fast, and that thing in the hall had seemed…more like a wild animal somehow.

My pulse began to race. “I want to see the principal now. I was supposed to see Mr. Moore.”

Ms. Roche’s laughter was deep and throaty. “I’m afraid that isn’t possible. Mr. Moore was in my way, just like Mr. Zinck. They would have interfered with our conversation, so I took care of them.”

“Took care of…” My heart climbed up my throat. “You don’t mean…You couldn’t have—”

Ms. Roche exhaled, and a chillingly familiar metallic scent wafted through the room. Her fingernails grew, transforming into claws.

“What the—” I bolted for the door, but Ms. Roche was fast. She sprang across the office in a blur of yellow and blocked my path.

“Leaving so soon?” Ms. Roche growled. “We’re just getting down to business.”

Then the most insane thing happened. Her jaw opened wide. Her head peeled back like a hoodie and out of her mouth grew a
new
head: a feline snout, black lips and white fangs, and large, hungry gold eyes. Her yellow dress changed into sleek fur. Ms. Roche became a fully formed lioness, standing upright on her haunches, ready to tear me to pieces with those gleaming claws.

“I’m so glad you used your friend’s cell phone,” she purred. Her voice was the only thing that hadn’t changed. “Otherwise we might not have found you in time.”

I tried to scream for help. My voice wouldn’t work. Besides, this
creature
had already gotten rid of the principal and the counselor. If nice old Ms. Lane came running in, trying to help me, I’d only get her killed. I backed up, nearly falling over my chair.

“We who?” I squeaked. “In time for what?”

“No matter.” Her tail flicked back and forth. The crazed look in her eyes made my knees turn to jelly. “I’ll make this easy for you. Your death will be quick.”

She bared her fangs.

I clenched my left hand, suddenly aware I was gripping my lucky coin. Why hadn’t my parents given me a pocketknife? Or a mini-canister of lion spray? Can you even
buy
lion spray? Or do you just buy bear spray and hope for the best?

My thoughts were interrupted as Ms. Roche lunged at me, claws extended and fangs exposed. I shouted, instinctively dropping to the ground and rolling to my right.

My left fist, still clenched tightly, suddenly felt like it was gripping hot lava. I opened my hand to drop the coin, but liquid metal spilled out instead.

Ms. Roche saw it and scrambled back against the far wall. “No!” she said. “How…?”

We both watched as the liquid metal ate through the floor, then through the concrete below, and then through the dirt. I heard a loud rumbling, and Ms. Roche howled as an oak tree erupted through the floor. Its branches lifted her up, wrapped themselves around her waist, and tore at her as they writhed and grew. Ms. Roche seemed to disintegrate into smoke and dust, and then the tree broke through the ceiling, still rising, reaching for the sun.

The fire alarm and sprinkler systems went off, dousing me with cold water.

A loud thud made me jump out of my skin. I turned as the office door splintered and blasted inward like it had been hit with a battering ram. Standing in the doorway was my best friend, Sam, his eyes wide with alarm, his curly blond hair disheveled. His backpack was slung over one shoulder. But something about his appearance was wrong. His jeans…he was wearing
fur
jeans. No. Wait. Those weren’t jeans. They were
actual
fur. And his feet…his feet were
hooves
.

I wanted to curl into a ball and hide under the shattered counselor’s desk. I wanted to sob and laugh at the same time. Obviously, I was losing my mind. None of this could be happening.

“Thank the gods you’re safe!” Sam shouted over the sound of the fire alarms. “We have to leave
now
!”

“Wh-what—how—?” I pointed feebly at his cloven hooves.

Sam rolled his eyes. “No time to talk! More monsters will be coming. Just grab your file and follow me!”

My file.
I spotted the red folder nestled nicely in one of the tree branches. With the sprinklers going, it would soon be ruined.

You’re very special,
Ms. Roche had said. What was in that file? Why had that lion/counselor/monster lady been so intent on killing me?

I snatched up the folder. Sam leaped through the hole in the office wall and ran toward the woods, where he and I had spent so many summers hiding out and playing when we were kids.

Could I trust Sam? How could I not? Even if he had suddenly grown furry legs and hooves, he was my best friend. Besides, I didn’t see much choice. With my luck, I would probably get blamed for destroying the office and disintegrating the guidance counselor…And I couldn’t forget what Sam had said:
More monsters will be coming.

I jumped through the broken wall and followed him.

By the time we reached our favorite clearing in the woods, I was gasping for breath. Fire alarms and emergency vehicle sirens howled behind us in the distance. I was still dripping wet from the sprinklers, and my legs were shaking from the adrenaline rush.

I wiped my eyes. I hoped Sam would look normal again, but nope. He was still rocking the goat fur and the hooves.

“Sam Greenwood,” I said. “Why are you a sheep?”

He made that bleating sound like he always did when he was annoyed. “I’m half-
goat
. Not half-sheep. I’m a satyr. But that’s not important right now.”

“Not important? How is my best friend turning into a livestock animal
not important
?”

“Look, you’re in danger. I was afraid this might happen when you told me you had used Lexi’s cell phone.”

“Why is everyone so obsessed about me using a stupid cell phone?”

“Because when a demigod uses one, the signal attracts monsters,” Sam said, like this was obvious information. “When you were summoned to the office, I should’ve realized they’d zeroed in on you.”

“Demigod,” I said, my head spinning. “Monster. I-I don’t—”

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” he said. “But we have to get you someplace safe. That file you’re carrying may have some answers. We’ll study it later.”

“We’ll study it
now
,” I insisted.

I opened the red folder. Some of the ink had bled, making parts of the report hard to read. I suspected I might have lost some pages while running from the school to the woods, but the first page was clear enough. It had a grainy surveillance-style photo of me above a bunch of personal information: home address, birthdate, family details.

I flipped to the next page and saw an official-looking form with Zane Carver at the top, and the following words:

As I looked at the page, I tried to steady my breathing. “Sam, what does this all mean? What is going on? How—”

From somewhere in the woods, an angry howl pierced the air—like a large predator cat on the hunt.

“There’s no time, Zane,” Sam said urgently. “I know you have a lot of questions, but we’re not safe here! Come on!”

“Sam,” I wheezed. “I have to stop.”

After running through the woods for over a mile, we were nearing the Broken Fork River, a whitewater rapid about eight feet across.

So far, no crazy lion ladies had attacked us, but if I kept running I wouldn’t have to worry about that, because I would die of a heart attack.

Sam had always been faster than me, but now that he had goat hooves, he was even more nimble in the forest.

Goat hooves.

I still couldn’t believe it. I wanted to think that the incident back at school had been a crazy pizza-induced hallucination, but no…my best friend was clopping around right in front of me, shedding tufts of goat fur and twitching his little tail.

Did he have
horns
? Oh, man. Maybe that’s why he kept his hair so long and shaggy. He could totally hide goat horns under that blond thicket of his.

“We’ll rest a second,” Sam said, scanning the woods behind us. “But
only
a second. We’re not—”

“We’re not safe,” I said. “Yeah. I got that the first twelve times you told me. But I want explanations. How are you a goat man?”

“Satyr.”

“Whatever! Why was Ms. Roche a monster? What is a demigod? And what does it have to do with me?”

Sam raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll try to give you the quick version. You know all that stuff we’ve been learning in Mr. Scheer’s class—the Greek myths, gods, monsters? It’s all true.”

My throat felt like it was full of cotton. “When you say
true
…”

“I mean the gods are still around, Zane,” Sam said. “The myths are real. Those stories about how the gods mingle with humans and occasionally have kids—”

“—who are half-god, half-human. Like Hercules.”

Sam frowned. “Yeah, well, Hercules isn’t my personal favorite, but that’s the general idea. Demigods exist in the modern world, too. So do monsters. Creatures like Ms. Roche…they’re always looking for demigods, hoping to kill them before they get old enough and strong enough to be a threat. Satyrs like me…our job is to
protect
demigods. We get close to the young heroes, let them enjoy a normal life for as long as possible, then, when the monsters finally close in, we get the demigods out of danger.”

“Wait…” I felt like I was being covered in heavy sap; if I let Sam’s words settle over me, if I tried to believe them, I would be trapped forever like a bug in amber. “So you want me to believe that one of my parents is a…I can’t even say it. A
god
? My dad can barely throw a baseball, let alone a spear. My mom drives a minivan. They eat at Olive Garden. They’re in a
bowling league.
They’re the two most un-godlike people ever.”

“Well…” Sam shifted uncomfortably. “I’m really not the person who should be telling you this…but you know how sometimes one bird lays an egg in
another
bird’s nest and then…or, wait. No. Did you ever maybe hear about how when there’s a kid who everyone totally loves, but they aren’t quite sure who…no, wait…”

“Hold on.” I felt slightly dizzy as Sam’s meaning became clear. “Are you saying I’m
adopted
?”

“Definitely by one of them. Maybe both…I don’t really know. But I
do
know that they both know what you are. They’re the ones who requested a satyr when you were little, and they’ve been model parents. I actually think they should write a handbook:
What to Expect When You’re Expecting a Demigod
…”

“Sam, this is ridiculous!”

He just stared at me, allowing time for the truth to sink in.

The sad thing was, I
didn’t
really find it ridiculous. My whole life had been one weird incident after another. Just this morning, my principal and guidance counselor had been disposed of by a talking lioness who enjoyed personality quizzes. My best friend turned out to be a satyr. Given all that, me being a demigod wasn’t so hard to believe.

And I’d always known there was something strange about my past. My folks got nervous whenever I asked questions about when I was a baby. There were no pictures of me before the age of two.

But if I really
was
a demigod…what did that mean? And who was my godly parent?

I shook it off and looked at Sam. “So that business at the aquarium with the otter, and the exploding tray of enchiladas, and the earthquake in the chemistry lab—”

“Yes,” Sam said. “It’s all because of who you are. Demigods are always surrounded by strange events.
You
more than most.”

“Why me more than most?”

Sam glanced nervously over my shoulder. “I don’t know. Honestly, for years I’ve been watching you, trying to figure out who your godly parent is—”

“You make me sound like a science experiment.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I am! I wouldn’t have stuck around if I wasn’t your friend! But I’m also your
protector.
The gods have some sort of plan for you. I’m sure of that. And while we figure out what it is, it’s my job to keep you alive.”

My brain spun like a gyroscope. One more crazy fact, and my head would fly apart from centrifugal force. “So…where do we go now? My house? Your house?”

“No,” Sam said. “The monsters would find you. I know a few gathering places for demigods. Normally I could take you to one of those, but none of them is close, and right now, they’re not really safe. Gaea is rising. The monsters are taking over—”

“Wait, what’s rising?”