The Demigods of Olympus: An Interactive Adventure
we’d find the magic item, and it would give me some answers.
    “When we get to the bridge,” Sam said, “be sure to stick close to me. There could be hundreds of people there. We don’t want to get separated.”
    Warning bells went off in my head. “Sam…if there’s a crowd of mortals like that at the bridge every night, how did the demon satyr zero in on you?”
    “He probably smelled me. Monsters can smell satyrs, and demigods, and—”
    “Sam, if the demon satyr could smell you in a huge crowd, won’t they pick up your scent here tonight?”
    Sam’s eyes widened with panic. “I didn’t think—it never occurred to me— blah-ah-ah! Blah-ah-ah! ” He bleated in terror.
    “We’ve got to get out of here!”
    “Too late!” he moaned. “Look!”
    In the growing gloom, a dozen shadowy figures crept toward the fountain. They walked hunched over, sort of like gorillas, except gorillas didn’t have cloven feet—or glowing red eyes. The biggest demon satyr straightened and sniffed the air. His head swiveled in our direction, his slitted ruby eyes searching the dark.
    Next to me, Sam shivered. “All my fault,” he whimpered, his tone anguished. “I should’ve known.” He tensed, ready to flee.
    “Don’t move,” I hissed. “You run and they’ll get you!”
    Sam stayed put, but I could sense his terror growing.
    Another demon lifted its head and sniffed.
    Sam looked at me, eyes wide. “If we don’t run,” he whispered, “you’ll have to either fight them or outsmart them.”
    Do you have any ideas?”
    “None,” whispered Sam. “Zero. And you gotta decide now. ”
    I peeked over the bench and saw the hulking monsters all raising their heads now, all sniffing the air. Time was up.
    I went with my gut.

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. Otherwise, the next section may not make any sense to you.

“We take the bus.” I held up my hand to stop him before he protested. “The bus goes over the bridge, and we’ll be surrounded by other people at all times. Plus, we don’t know if there are more demon satyrs in Austin, and I really don’t want to accidentally stumble on another lair. This way, we get in and out as fast as possible.”
    I tried to sound confident. Sam had been on edge since we reached Texas and right now, my number one rule was making sure he didn’t end up as the main course on the demon satyr menu. Getting this done quickly was our best shot, and staying off the streets was a welcome bonus.
    B was kind enough to give us directions to the closest bus stop, only a few blocks away. As we huddled under the too-small awning, fighting for every inch of shade, we watched the traffic start to pick up, the cars all decked out in orange and white—streamers, flags, bumper stickers…
    Eventually, a dark-windowed charter bus pulled up with a giant “Greek Week” banner hanging on its side. The doors slid open and we were hit with a wave of rock music and air conditioning as two guys peeked out. One was tall and clean-cut, wearing a white T-shirt with orange Greek letters on it and a battered Longhorns baseball cap. The other guy’s face was covered in stubble, matching his disheveled hair, glassy eyes, and noticeable lack of shoes. His bare chest was painted with a giant white “X.”
    “This them?” Baseball Hat asked. I felt a pang of jealousy—with that dimpled smirk and southern drawl, he’d clearly never had a problem talking to girls.
    “I don’t remember, man. We just swore ’em in.” Dirty Guy slurped from a red Solo cup. “Ask ’em a pledge question.”
    Baseball Hat cleared his throat. “What’s the first letter of the Greek alphabet?”
    I paused, because the question seemed too easy. “Um…alpha?”
    “Alriiiight! It’s them, man!” Dirty Guy downed his cup and gestured for us to get on the bus. He stared at Sam for a beat before throwing his right arm in the

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