The Demigod Diaries (The Heroes of Olympus)

The Demigod Diaries (The Heroes of Olympus)
Rick Riordan


The Diariy of Luck Castellan

MY NAME IS LUKE.

Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up with this diary. My life is pretty crazy. But I promised the old man I would try. After what happened today…well, I owe him.

My hands are shaking as I sit here on guard duty. I can’t get the horrible images out of my head. I’ve got a few hours until the girls wake up. Maybe if I write down the story, I’ll be able to put it behind me.

I should probably start with the magic goat.

For three days, Thalia and I had been following the goat across Virginia. I wasn’t sure why. To me, the goat didn’t look like anything special, but Thalia was more agitated than I’d ever seen her before. She was convinced the goat was some sort of sign from her dad, Zeus.

Yeah, her dad is a Greek god. So is mine. We’re demigods. If you think that sounds cool, think again. Demigods are monster magnets. All those ancient Greek nasties like Furies and harpies and gorgons still exist, and they can sense heroes like us from miles away. Because of that, Thalia and I spend all our time running for our lives. Our superpowerful parents don’t even talk to us, much less help us. Why? If I tried to explain that, I’d fill up this whole diary, so I’m going to move on.

Anyway, this goat would pop up at random times, always in the distance. Whenever we tried to catch up to it, the goat would vanish and appear farther away, as if it was leading us somewhere.

Me, I would’ve left it alone. Thalia wouldn’t explain why she thought it was important, but she and I had been adventuring together long enough that I’d learned to trust her judgment. So we followed the goat.

Early in the morning, we made it into Richmond. We trudged across a narrow bridge over a lazy green river, past wooded parks and Civil War cemeteries. As we got closer to the center of town, we navigated through sleepy neighborhoods of red brick town houses wedged close together, with white-columned porches and tiny gardens.

I imagined all the normal families living in those cozy houses. I wondered what it would be like to have a home, to know where my next meal was coming from, and not have to worry about getting eaten by monsters every day. I’d run away when I was only nine—five long years ago. I barely remembered what it was like to sleep in a real bed.

After walking another mile, my feet felt like they were melting inside my shoes. I hoped we could find a place to rest, maybe get some food. Instead, we found the goat.

The street we were following opened up into a big circular park. Stately red brick mansions faced the roundabout. In the middle of the circle, atop a twenty-foot white marble pedestal, was a bronze dude sitting on horseback. Grazing at the base of the monument was the goat.

“Hide!” Thalia pulled me behind a row of rosebushes.

“It’s just a goat,” I said for the millionth time. “Why—?”

“It’s special,” Thalia insisted. “One of my dad’s sacred animals. Her name is Amaltheia.”

She’d never mentioned the goat’s name before. I wondered why she sounded so nervous.

Thalia isn’t scared of much. She’s only twelve, two years younger than I am, but if you saw her walking down the street you’d clear a path. She wears black leather boots, black jeans, and a tattered leather jacket studded with punk rock buttons. Her hair is dark and choppy like a feral animal’s. Her intense blue eyes bore into you as if she’s considering the best way to beat you to a pulp.

Anything that scared her, I had to take seriously.

“So you’ve seen this goat before?” I asked.

She nodded reluctantly. “In Los Angeles, the night I ran away. Amaltheia led me out of the city. And later, that night you and I met…she led me to you.”

I stared at Thalia. As far as I knew, our meeting had been an accident. We literally ran into each other in a dragon’s cave outside Charleston and teamed up to stay alive. Thalia had never mentioned a goat.

As far as her old life in Los Angeles, Thalia didn’t like to talk about it. I respected her too much to pry. I knew her mom had fallen in love with Zeus. Eventually Zeus dumped her, as gods tend to do. Her mom went off the deep end, drinking and doing crazy things—I didn’t know the details—until finally Thalia decided to run. In other words, her past was a lot like mine.

She took a shaky breath. “Luke, when Amaltheia appears, something important is about to happen…something dangerous. She’s like a warning from Zeus, or a guide.”

“To what?”

“I don’t know…but look.” Thalia pointed across the street. “She’s not disappearing this time. We must be close to wherever she’s leading us.”

Thalia was right. The goat was just standing there, less than a hundred yards away, contentedly nibbling grass at the base of the monument.

I was no expert on barnyard animals, but Amaltheia did look strange now that we were closer. She had curlicue horns like a ram, but the swollen udders of a girl goat. And her shaggy gray fur…was it glowing? Wisps of light seemed to cling to her like a cloud of neon, making her look blurry and ghostly.

A couple of cars looped around the traffic circle, but nobody seemed to notice the radioactive goat. That didn’t surprise me. There’s some sort of magical camouflage that keeps mortals from seeing the true appearance of monsters and gods. Thalia and I weren’t sure what this force was called or how it worked, but it was pretty powerful. Mortals might see the goat as just a stray dog, or they might not see it at all.