Percy Jackson’s Greek Gods by Rick Riordan

Author:Rick Riordan [Riordan, Rick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Novela, Fantástico
Publisher: ePubLibre
Published: 2014-08-18T22:00:00+00:00

Aegipan kept playing. His melodies were like sunlight in the morning and a cool stream trickling through the woods and the smell of your girlfriend’s freshly shampooed hair…

Sorry. I got distracted. What was I saying?

Right…the satyr god. His music evoked everything good and beautiful. When Typhoeus got close, he heard the sweet song floating in the air, and he stopped in utter confusion.

“That doesn’t sound like screaming,” the giant muttered to himself. “It’s not an explosion, either. What is that?”

Safe to say that they didn’t have a lot of music in Tartarus, and if they did, it was more along the lines of funeral dirges and death metal.

Typhoeus finally spotted the satyr god kicking back in the meadow, playing his pipes. Typhoeus could’ve stomped him flat, obviously, but Aegipan looked completely unconcerned.

Typhoeus was baffled. He knelt down to take a closer look at the satyr. For a few moments, the world was silent except for the burning wake of destruction behind the giant, and the sweet music of the panpipes.

The storm giant had never heard anything so beautiful. It certainly was better than his she-monster wife’s nagging voice and the crying of his monstrous children.

Without even meaning to, Typhoeus heaved a deep contented sigh, which was so powerful, it parted Aegipan’s hair and disturbed his song.

The satyr god finally looked up, but he didn’t seem scared.

(In fact, Aegipan was terrified, but he hid it well, possibly because he knew Hermes was standing by, ready for a quick extraction if things went bad.)

“Oh, hello,” said Aegipan. “I didn’t notice you.”

Typhoeus tilted his massive head. “I am as tall as the sky, shrouded in darkness, and I have been destroying the world. How did you not notice me?”

“I guess I was busy with my music.” Aegipan started playing again. Immediately Typhoeus felt his massive heart lift with joy that was almost better than when he contemplated destroying the gods.

“I like your music,” Typhoeus decided. “I may not kill you.”

“Thank you,” Aegipan said calmly, and went back to playing.

“When I destroy the gods, I will take over Mount Olympus. I will make you my court musician so you can perform for me.”

Aegipan just kept playing his soft happy song.

“I will need good music,” Typhoeus decided. “You can write a great ballad about me—a song of how I conquered the world!”

Aegipan stopped and suddenly looked sad. “Hmm…if only…no. No, it’s impossible.”

“What?” Typhoeus boomed.

It was really hard for Aegipan to remember the plan and stay calm with a massive storm giant looming over him, the hundreds of snake-head fingers dripping poison and glaring at him with red eyes.

Hermes is nearby, Aegipan reminded himself. I can do this.

“Well, I would love to write a song about you,” Aegipan said. “But such a majestic tune shouldn’t be played on panpipes. I would need a harp.”

“You can have any harp in the world,” Typhoeus promised.

“Very gracious, my lord,” Aegipan said, “but it would need strings made from some incredibly tough sinew…much stronger than cow or horse guts. Otherwise, the strings would burst when I tried to play a song about your power and majesty.

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