The Demigods of Olympus: An Interactive Adventure (4 page)

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.”

My lungs deflated like old helium balloons. “Your—your sister? You mean you and Ms. Roche—”

“We are
leontes
!” the lion bellowed. “The children of Atalanta! We always hunt in pairs. Normally, the female has the honor of the kill, but since you sent her back to Tartarus—”

“Wait.” I was hoping if I bought us a little time, Sam could get us out of this somehow. Maybe one of the packs in the cabinet contained a few hand grenades or possibly a bazooka. “Um, Mr. Lion…sorry, but I always like to know who’s killing me. You said you’re a child of who?”

“Atalanta!” he cried. “The most famous Greek heroine! A glorious hunter. The fastest of runners. She and our father Hippomenes were cursed by that ridiculous love goddess Aphrodite simply because they forgot to make a few sacrifices during their wedding ceremony. Aphrodite changed them into lions! Ever since, we their descendants have prowled the world, looking for revenge. Since we cannot destroy the gods, we destroy their children!”

I was out of magical tree-growing gold coins, so I glanced at Sam, hoping he had found a bazooka. Sadly, he was frozen in terror. He may have been my self-proclaimed protector, but at the moment he was about as helpful as the statue of Nemo Sign.

“Well, Mr. Lion…” My voice sounded as squeaky as Mickey Mouse. “I can tell you’re upset. But, uh, I don’t even know the gods. I didn’t know I was a demigod until like an hour ago—”

“Good!” snarled the lion. “I will destroy you before you learn your powers!”

I looked around frantically. Should I go for the sword? Or try to outwit the lion?

The lion tensed to pounce.

“The bridge,” I said. “Maybe I can figure out a way to get us across.”

“You sure?” asked Sam, wrinkling his nose.

“Am I…? Were you not listening to me at all? NO! Of course I’m not sure. You told me to trust my gut, and my gut says it doesn’t want to try jumping those rapids. Come on.”

Together we sprinted through the trees until we reached the old bridge. I knelt to take a closer look, doing my best to ignore the howls of the
leonte
.

“The supports are fine,” I said, tugging on the wire truss, and kicking the concrete block where it connected to the shore. “The problem is those wooden slats. They’re pretty rotten. I don’t think they’ll support our weight.”

“Um, okay,” said Sam, looking around nervously. “You can fix it? Like, fast?”

I scanned the area, relieved to see several suitable branches. “Yeah, bring me as many of those branches as you can—the thicker the better.”

Sam and I dragged the branches over to the bridge. I lined them up so the ends were facing each river bank, then slid them out over the rotting slats. “We’ll use these to distribute our weight. It should keep the wood from breaking.”

“Should?”

“Yeah…should. I’ll go first.” I put a cautious foot onto the layer of branches, feeling for any give. Everything seemed okay, so I pulled my left foot onto the bridge, keeping it as far as possible behind my right. I looked at Sam, smiled, and scooted both my feet and the branches forward, keeping my weight spread out. I inched along, then hopped easily onto the opposite bank.

Sam had already laid out a new set of branches on the far side. “Come on,” I said.

Just then, the foliage behind him rustled and the
leonte
leapt out.

Sam yelped and trotted onto the ancient bridge, holding his arms out to the sides for balance. But where my sneakers gripped the wood, his hooves slipped and slid. I gathered a few larger branches from my side, trying to make it easier for him.

He took a few more steps and froze at the sound of cracking wood. “What do I do?” he said, eyes wide.

“Step as lightly as possible,” I said, “and walk toward me.”

I’d never seen him so frightened. “I can’t do it.”

“You
can
do it, Sam. Remember the time I fell off Parker’s roof and you carried me all the way home?”

Sam nodded slightly, but otherwise remained frozen.

“You kept saying ‘One more step, one more step,’ remember?” Sam nodded again. “Do the same thing, okay? One more step.”

Sam took a step forward.

The
leonte
roared.

“One more step,” I said.

He took another step. Then another.

“Almost there!” I said. “One more step!”

And then he was across, collapsing theatrically beside me.

Before we could celebrate, the
leonte
put an enormous paw onto the bridge, testing it.

“Come on,” I said. “Help me!” I leaned forward and started madly brushing the branches off the bridge and into the rapids below.

Sam picked up a few rocks and threw them at the
leonte
, causing the monster to pause momentarily before bellowing with rage and then continuing his way across.

I’d never be able to knock the rest of the branches off in time. I scanned the area, spotting a few rocks the size of bowling balls. “Bigger ones!” I shouted. “Throw bigger rocks!”

I picked one up and hefted it onto the bridge. The old planks creaked under the added weight, and the
leonte
stopped, suddenly looking uncertain.

“Yeah!” shouted Sam, as we both hurled more boulders onto the fragile wood.

The
leonte
roared with frustration, then took another step. As it shifted its weight onto a plank, the wood snapped in half. The
leonte
’s paw shot through the gap and then its whole body fell onto the rotting bridge, shattering nearly every plank.

The
leonte
howled as it fell into the rushing rapids, and I couldn’t help but smile as it was whisked downstream, its cries growing fainter by the second.

“You did it!” said Sam.

“
We
did it,” I said, smiling.

“Fair enough,” said Sam. “Now let’s go. That river won’t distract him for long.”

We turned and sprinted through the woods, leaping over fallen trees and avoiding brambles.

After about ten minutes, Sam and I 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.”