There is no doubt my face resembled that of a candy-crazed child on Halloween. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. The chariot was still there. Roger noticed my expression and chuckled.

"Yeah, Apollo's all about appearances."

I nodded numbly, and I suddenly realized that I wasn't tired. Normally, I'd be fighting drowsiness with all my strength by this time, but the excitement lingered and I was wide-awake. I hopped into the Chariot's driver seat and grinned.

"Oh no," called Roger. He hopped in and pushed me over. I don't trust you at the wheel; if you nod off, we're gonners.

I looked morosely at the floor but quickly forgot my disappointment. Ms. Stella had shoved the bull-guy off of her. She looked at me with eyes that expressed a clear feeling: absolute loathing. I conked Roger on the head with the pillow I always carried by my side. Next thing I knew, we were off.

To describe riding in the mini-Sun Chariot as exhilarating would be the understatement of the year. My skin peeled back around my eyes as we blasted forward, going 200 miles per hour easily. We passed several confused people as we headed Northeast. Roger began to explain everything to me, like he'd rehearsed it. I learned that the world of the Greek gods was real, that they lived in America (the major power of western civilization, at the moment), and that my life was in danger because I was a demigod, a half-blood.

I stopped him, "There's that word again. Ms. Stella –"

"The empousa," Roger corected.

"Right...that," I said. "That's what she called me too."

Roger sighed, "Eric, the word 'half-blood' refers to your lineage. You know your mother?"

I looked to see if he was joking. When he continued staring at me, I nodded.

"She fell in love with a God, and his power must have been incredibly potent at the time," he said, "seeing as how you managed to best that monster at your age."

I stared at him, "at my age?" I exclaimed. "How old are you?"

"25," he said sheepishly. "Satyrs age half as quickly as humans."

I just bobbed my head up and down. A headache crept into my skull, throbbing.

/

We spent the next few minutes in silence, broken only when I saw a sign that happily proclaimed, "Welcome to Pennsylvania!" I looked up, shocked. "How is that even possible?" I inquired.

Roger laughed, "The gods have taken an interest in you, and it looks like they're helping us along."

Twenty more minutes passed, and Roger and I were well into New York when 'Fred' stopped abruptly, nearly ejecting me, "What the -!?"

I didn't get to finish my sentence, as Fred decided to spring forward, release our seatbelts, and send us flying 15 feet into the air. We both landed painfully in a rosebush several yards away. Groaning miserably, I looked around.

What I saw would have scared anybody. A large figure, radiating death and darkness, sat at the edge of the road. Roger was still unconscious, moaning about tacos. I cautiously got to my feet, helping Roger up and propping him against my shoulder. The...thing...was moving closer. It was dark as night, had razor-sharp fangs and claws, and it looked angry.

I shook Roger. "Mexican night?" he gurgled.

"Wake UP! What is that thing?"

Roger grumpily turned over to stare at the dog-like thing across the street. "AAAAHHHH!"

I clamped my hand over his mouth, "Shhh."

Staring at the monster facing me, I glared, concentrating: I tried to put him to sleep. Either I was too frightened or he was immune to my magic, because the massive mastiff shook his head and began to move pointedly in my direction. Roger nodded off again, however. Panicking, my brain raced. What in the blazes was I to do?

Looking down at Roger's impassive, sleeping face, an idea sprang into my mind. I let him fall (cruel, you might say, but I was desperate) and proceeded to rifle through his pack. I found what I was looking for and sprung up, a triumphant look spread across my face. Suffice it to say, that confidence wavered when I played Roger's pipes and nothing happened. I waited for a few seconds and tried again with renewed vigor. Nothing happened.

Now I was terrified. The gigantic dog was going to devour me, I knew it. I threw the "reed pipes," as I later learned they were called, directly at him. Boing! They bounced harmlessly off his fur, creating nothing more than a ripple. Looming above me now, the dog sniffed and began to run. I screamed.

Roger emerged from his stupor to find me paralyzed with fear. He stammered, "Hell...hellhound! Put it to sleep, Eric! Now!"

When I continued to cower, Roger righted himself, braced his hooves, and pounced. The bravest goat I've ever seen leapt to his death to try and save me. That was enough to help me break out of my immobilized state. My pillow grasped firmly in my arms, I willed a wall of energy to hit the monster. It collapsed, squashing Roger, who, not surprisingly, complained, "Ow!"

Instead of trying to soothe the beast into sleep as I'd done before, I now relentlessly pounded it with bad thought after bad thought, trying to make its dreams as miserable as possible and keep it at bay. Roger squeezed himself out from under the giant's maw and picked up his broken reed pipes, "The Council is going to KILL me."

I cleared my throat, still stunned at what I'd seen, but happy that Roger was safe and that we were okay...for the time being. Looking at my surroundings, I saw a tall hill, the top of which was crowned by a tree carrying what looked like a blanket made of solid gold. My mouth dropped open, and Roger chuckled, "That's Camp Half-Blood, where we're headed."

I pointed at the Hellhound, or whatever it was, which was trembling in its sleep. Roger nodded and pulled out a tiny contraption, a whistle of sorts. Through my dyslexia, I could make out PANdemonium on the side. Roger bellowed and blew into the whistle with all his might. Closing my eyes was involuntary, as the gold mist emanating from the device streaked towards the hellhound and caused it to disintegrate.

"There, his essence has returned to Tartarus."

I looked at him, my brown eyes clearly displaying my fear.

"Hey, it's okay. You did it, if it wasn't for you..." his voice trailed off. "Look, I was assigned to protect you, and though I've only known you for a few hours, I figured you were a demigod pretty quickly. That's how powerful your aura is."

I smiled and moved to walk up the hill.

Roger grabbed my arm with a grateful look in his eyes. He bleated, "I failed in my duties. I fell asleep."

Though I was still scared and I had no idea what was in store for me (I didn't much want to know, to be honest), I grinned, "Nah, people do that around me all the time. No biggie...This Council, I'll tell 'em how brave you were."

Gratitude evident from his expression, Roger gave me a running goat-hug. "Come on, you'll want to meet Annabeth."