When it spoke again, it didn’t sound quite so majestic. The voice cleared its throat as if embarrassed. It was racing at a million beats per second. “H-Hades?” My heart seemed to be the only thing that wasn’t frozen. But first you must travel to New Orleans. The voice sounded so watery and distant I couldn’t even tell if it was male or female. You have succeeded in this task, the voice intoned majestically, as I knew you would. Sam crouched mid-sprint as if he’d turned to bronze. The rumble of cars ceased on the bridge above. The moonlight stopped rippling on the river. I shoved the ring into my pocket and ran.Įverything around me seemed to freeze. I squinted and, as the air cleared, I found myself clutching a small, plain, wooden ring. As I stood there examining it, the box began to slowly dissolve, its ratty edges floating away like mist. The trouble was, I had no idea how I knew that, or what the clue was. I knew with absolute certainty that I was holding a clue to my godly parent’s identity.
I opened my eyes and stared at the old Happy Meal box in my hands. I didn’t dissolve into water or go up in smoke or get struck by lightning, which I figured was a good sign. Here goes.” I closed my eyes and grasped the box. I think I just heard a bleat in the distance.” What if that hero wasn’t me? Would something bad happen if I touched it? What if I was an imposter after all?įrom the riverbank, Sam called, “Uh, Zane, you might want to hurry. I stood above the glowing box, reached out a hand, then stopped. Maybe it was a box that provided unlimited food. As I got closer, I was able to make out exactly what it was-a battered McDonald’s Happy Meal box. I glanced behind me to make sure I was alone, then approached. Enveloped by a glowing blue aura, it seemed to infuse everything around it with a thrumming energy. But about thirty feet in, directly under the center of the bridge, I saw it. And there was a lot of trash under that bridge. I assumed it would be well hidden or disguised, so I wasted a lot of time poking through trash. Word of advice: When searching for a magical item, it helps to know what you’re looking for. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you. 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. Then, before I thought about it too much, I hurried under the bridge. I gave Sam my toothbrush, which seemed to surprise him. But all right, how about you be the lookout? We don’t want any random leftover demon satyrs sneaking up on us. And only demigods can be heroes, not satyrs.” Remember what Brykhon said? Only the next great hero can obtain this magic item. “Stay close,” I told Sam, making sure my toothbrush was back in my pocket. I didn’t see any signs of movement from underneath the bridge. We crept down the slope of the riverbank. The crowds had dispersed along with the bats. I mouthed a silent thank you as we ran on. Sam nodded, still unsure, but he let me drag him down the road toward the bridge.
“Let’s just consider it a gift from the gods.
“We were at the fountain, and now…we’re here.”Ī shiver ran through my body and I looked up as a gentle breeze rustled the treetops. “This path leads down to the Congress Avenue Bridge. Then suddenly, my eyes slammed open and I was running. I can only interfere so much with your quest. I mumbled something about letting me sleep longer, but a weird force was urgently pushing against my skin.
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