Meg jabbed her tree branch into the nearest spirit’s chest.
“How do demigods do it without an auto-win power?” I thrust out my arms, hoping to blast them to dust. “You can’t claim both my plagues and my poetry!” “You are right,” said the spirit. It does not have the pooooetry of a good epidemic.” The middle spirit chortled, his yellow eyes gleaming. “I was going to ask what happens if I just slice and dice these mouth-breathers with Celestial bronze.” “That’s not what I was going to say.” Percy raised his blade. I hate to see you sacrifice yourselves, but-” “You and Meg have come up with a clever plan to hold off these spirits while I run away to camp. “I know what you’re going to say,” I told him. “But is it really? What if it’s cleverly hidden under this Led Zeppelin T-shirt, and I am about to whip it out and shoot you all?” “What will you strike us down with? Where is your The spirit on the right bared his rotten teeth. I certainly hoped Meg and Percy were working on such a plan. I trusted that this would allow my demigod companions time to come up with a clever plan to save me. But the secret to dealing with plague spirits was to keep talking so as to appear in charge and unafraid. My sixteen-year-old mortal instincts were screaming, RUN! My knees were knocking together, and my right eye had developed a nasty twitch. Perhaps you are wondering how I could act so confident and calm. You’ve been wanting to do that ever since Pandora let you out of that jar. Then you’ll spread every known malady across the world. Stop interrupting! We wish to be free, uncontroooolled-”
“Better a god, regulated by the Council of Olympus and with the proper health permits, than a horde of uncontrolled spirits like these.” I use plague arrows to strike down naughty populations with smallpox, athlete’s foot, that sort of thing.” Once I was born, spreading illnesses became part of my job. “You see, nosoi are the spirits of disease. (Difficult for me, but I managed.) “You’ve come to take your revenge on me, eh?” I looked at my demigod friends. “Let me stop you right there.” I crossed my arms and feigned arrogant indifference. “Apollooooo…” His voice gurgled like a seal with bronchitis. “Guys.” Meg picked up a dead tree branch. Except for that story about how I flayed the satyr Marsyas alive. “Of course, most things in those old myths are not myths. Their eyes glistened with a film of yellow mucus. “You know, I keep thinking, I have now killed every single thing in Greek mythology. “NOSOI?” PERCY PLANTED HIS FEET in a fighting stance.
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