Rick Riordan
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
"You're nuts," said Thalia.
"Nuts and berries," Grover said dreamily. "Yeah."
17
17
Finally the sky began to lighten. Artemis muttered, "About time. He's so-o-o lazy during the
winter."
"You're, um, waiting for sunrise?" I asked.
"For my brother. Yes."
I didn't want to be rude. I mean, I knew the legends about Apollo—or sometimes Helios—
driving a big sun chariot across the sky. But I also knew that the sun was really a star about a zillion
miles away. I'd gotten used to some of the Greek myths being true, but still… I didn't see how Apollo
could drive the sun.
"It's not exactly as you think," Artemis said, like she was reading my mind.
"Oh, okay." I started to relax. "So, it's not like he'll be pulling up in a—"
There was a sudden burst of light on the horizon. A blast of warmth.
"Don't look," Artemis advised. "Not until he parks."
Parks?
I averted my eyes, and saw that the other kids were doing the same. The light and warmth
intensified until my winter coat felt like it was melting off of me. Then suddenly the light died.
I looked. And I couldn't believe it. It was my car. Well, the car I wanted, anyway. A red
convertible Maserati Spyder. It was so awesome it glowed. Then I realized it was glowing because
the metal was hot. The snow had melted around the Maserati in a perfect circle, which explained
why I was now standing on green grass and my shoes were wet.
The driver got out, smiling. He looked about seventeen or eighteen, and for a second, I had
the uneasy feeling it was Luke, my old enemy. This guy had the same sandy hair and outdoorsy
good looks. But it wasn't Luke. This guy was taller, with no scar on his face like Luke's. His smile
was brighter and more playful. (Luke didn't do much more than scowl and sneer these days.) The
Maserati driver wore jeans and loafers and a sleeveless T-shirt.
"Wow," Thalia muttered. "Apollo is hot."
"He's the sun god," I said.
"That's not what I meant."
"Little sister!" Apollo called. If his teeth were any whiter he could've blinded us without the
sun car. "What's up? You never call. You never write. I was getting worried!"
Artemis sighed. "I'm fine, Apollo. And I am not your little sister."
"Hey, I was born first."
"We're twins! How many millennia do we have to argue—"
"So what's up?" he interrupted. "Got the girls with you, I see. You all need some tips on
archery?"
Artemis grit her teeth. "I need a favor. I have some hunting to do, alone. I need you to take
my companions to Camp Half-Blood."
"Sure, sis!" Then he raised his hands in a stop everything gesture. "I feel a haiku coming on."
The Hunters all groaned. Apparently they'd met Apollo before.
He cleared his throat and held up one hand dramatically.
"Green grass breaks through snow.
Artemis pleads for my help.
I am so cool."
He grinned at us, waiting for applause.
"That last line was only four syllables," Artemis said.
Apollo frowned. "Was it?"
"Yes. What about I am so big-headed?"
"No, no, that's six syllables. Hmm." He started muttering to himself.
Zoe Nightshade turned to us. "Lord Apollo has been going through this haiku phase ever
since he visited Japan. 'Tis not as bad as the time he visited Limerick. If I'd had to hear one more
poem that started with, There once was a goddess from Sparta—"