Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Demigod Files by Rick Riordan Page B

earth, and it’s your fault! Where were you when I died? Why did you run away when I needed you?”
    “I—I—”
    “Thalia,” I said. “It’s just a shade. It can’t hurt you.”
    “I’m more than that,” the spirit growled. “And Thalia knows it.”
    “But—you abandoned me ,” Thalia said.
    “You wretched girl! Ungrateful runaway!”
    “Stop!” Nico stepped forward with his sword drawn, but the spirit changed form and faced him.
    This ghost was harder to see. She was a woman in an old-fashioned black velvet dress with a matching hat. She wore a string of pearls and white gloves, and her dark hair was tied back.
    Nico stopped in his tracks. “No . . .”
    “My son,” the ghost said. “I died when you were so young. I haunt the world in grief, wondering about you and your sister.”
    “Mama?”
    “No, it’s my mother,” Thalia murmured, as if she still saw the first image.
    My friends were helpless. The fog began thickening around their feet, twining around their legs like vines. The colors seemed to fade from their clothes and faces, as if they too were becoming shades.
    “Enough,” I said, but my voice hardly worked. Despite the pain, I lifted my sword and stepped toward the ghost. “You’re not anybody’s mama!”
    The ghost turned toward me. The image flickered, and I saw the goddess of ghosts in her true form.
    You’d think after a while I would stop getting freaked out by the appearance of Greek ghoulies, but Melinoe caught me by surprise. Her right half was pale chalky white, like she’d been drained of blood. Her left half was pitch-black and hardened, like mummy skin. She wore a golden dress and a golden shawl. Her eyes were empty black voids, and when I looked into them, I felt as if I were seeing my own death.
    “Where are your ghosts?” she demanded in irritation.
    “My . . . I don’t know. I don’t have any.”
    She snarled. “Everyone has ghosts—deaths you regret. Guilt. Fear. Why can I not see yours?”
    Thalia and Nico were still entranced, staring at the goddess as if she were their long-lost mother. I thought about other friends I’d seen die—Bianca di Angelo, Zoë Nightshade, Lee Fletcher, to name a few.
    “I’ve made my peace with them,” I said. “They’ve passed on. They’re not ghosts. Now, let my friends go!”
    I slashed at Melinoe with my sword. She backed up quickly, growling in frustration. The fog dissipated around my friends. They stood blinking at the goddess as if they were just seeing how hideous she was.
    “What is that ?” Thalia said. “Where—”
    “It was a trick,” Nico said. “She fooled us.”
    “You are too late, demigods,” Melinoe said. Another petal fell off my carnation, leaving only one. “The deal has been struck.”
    “What deal?” I demanded.
    Melinoe made a hissing sound, and I realized it was her way of laughing. “So many ghosts, my young demigod. They long to be unleashed. When Kronos rules the world, I shall be free to walk among mortals both night and day, sowing terror as they deserve.”
    “Where’s the sword of Hades?” I demanded. “Where’s Ethan?”
    “Close,” Melinoe promised. “I will not stop you. I will not need to. Soon, Percy Jackson, you will have many ghosts. And you will remember me.”
    Thalia notched an arrow and aimed it at the goddess. “If you open a path to the world, do you really think Kronos will reward you? He’ll cast you into Tartarus along with the rest of Hades’s servants.”
    Melinoe bared her teeth. “Your mother was right, Thalia. You are an angry girl. Good at running away. Not much else.”
    The arrow flew, but as it touched Melinoe she dissolved into fog, leaving nothing but the hiss of her laughter. Thalia’s arrow hit the rocks and shattered harmlessly.
    “Stupid ghost,” she muttered.
    I could tell she was really shaken up. Her eyes were rimmed with red. Her hands trembled. Nico looked just as stunned, like someone had smacked him between the