The Demigods of Olympus: An Interactive Adventure by Rick Riordan

out on the table. “So this is where we are,” I said, pointing to a small dot. “And I think we need to go here.” I tapped a second, smaller dot marked Barton Springs Pool .
    Getting to Austin had taken us a while, since instant teleportation was apparently not one of my demigod powers. Instead, we’d taken the bus.
    We couldn’t even take a direct route to Austin. Sam insisted we zigzag around.
    “To throw other monsters off our trail,” he’d said.
    “What other monsters?”
    He’d rattled off a long list, complete with colorful descriptions. Each sounded more deadly than the one before it. I’d waved my hands to stop him. “Okay, I get it. Zigzag it is.”
    During the bus ride, our only sustenance was stuff we’d scored from vending machines—a bag of chips, a sleeve of cookies, a bottle of soda. I ate the food. Sam wolfed down the wrappers and the plastic bottle.
    “Do you always eat trash?” I’d asked, more curious than disgusted.
    “You think what’s inside the packaging is any better?”
    He had a point. Some of those ingredients sounded as deadly as the monsters.
    The rest of our journey was uneventful…mostly.While I was in the restroom at the back of the bus, the hand sanitizer dispenser exploded. At one stop, I put a quarter in a pinball machine and the thing started dinging, flashing, and smoking like it was having a nervous breakdown. (I barely touched it, I swear!) I also had a little misunderstanding with a dog walker and a flower vendor. The less said about that, the better.
    Then there was that weird flash of light in the sky, but that was probably just a reflection off a car or something.
    Yeah. I’m going with reflection.
    Oh, and there was this really weird thing with the sword I’d picked up in the library. Sam kept insisting that we needed to keep it with us for protection. I kept insisting that we were going to end up in jail.
    I waved it in Sam’s face. “How exactly do you travel in public with an enormous bronze sword?” Then bam! Instead of a sword, I was holding a fold-up travel toothbrush. I stared at it, then shoved it into my backpack. It didn’t make sense, but I was learning that being a demigod meant having to expect the unexpected.
    “Here you go, young’uns.” Our waitress had a Texas twang, a wide smile, and a name tag that read B . She set down our meals—a pile of lettuce for Sam and a BBQ sandwich with a mound of steak fries for me.
    She came back with two tall glasses of sweet tea and nodded at our map. “First time in Austin?”
    Sam gave a nervous bleat. I remembered then that he’d been in Austin before. He’d implied that things hadn’t gone well, but he’d refused to give me any details.
    “Yes, ma’am,” I answered. “We’re trying to get to the Barton Springs Pool.”
    “That’s in Zilker Park. There’s a bus that goes there via the Congress Avenue Bridge. Or you could take a taxi, if you’ve got the money.” She eyed our clothes and backpacks as if she doubted that was an option. “Or you could walk. It’s not too far.” She took a pencil out of her apron pocket and traced a route on our map.
    “B!” the cook called from the kitchen. “Order up!”
    “Coming, Phil!” The waitress tucked away her pencil. “You kids want anything else, just holler, you hear? By the way, unlimited free refills on drinks!” She trundled off.
    Sam stared after her. “This may sound far-fetched, but you remember how I said xenia was Greek for hospitality?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well, there’s this old story…Zeus and Hermes disguised themselves as humans and visited different people to see who would give them shelter. A bunch of rich folks turned them away. Then they came to an old, poor couple. This couple had nothing, but they welcomed the gods with open arms. As a reward, the gods enchanted the couple’s pitcher so it would never be empty.”
    “So?”
    “So,” Sam said, “the old woman’s name was Baucis . The man’s was Philemon