Lizandra "Liz" White has always been called a "troubled child." She never knew either of her parents. For as long as she can remember, she's lived at Mrs. Mansen's Orphanage in a small town in Colorado. But as she nears her 12th birthday, her dull, drab life is about to change.

Silverflint, Colorado. Population: 59.

Whoever my parents were, why did they have to leave me in the most boring town on Earth? There's no schools here. And I'm stuck as one of the 6 kids in the town. I don't have any friends either, except for this one girl at the orphanage, Meg. She's about the same age as me, although she hasn't been here long. I can't say we were friends, because we only ever talked to each other once a month, at most. But Meg's about the only company I have other than batty old Mrs. Mansen.

Mrs. Mansen? She owns the orphanage. She always wears her hair up, with a turban of some sort covering it. And she always wears these huge black sunglasses. She tells me her eyes get sunburned, but I don't believe that. Her orphanage is full of statues. Inside, outside, everywhere. It creeps me out.

I used to always ask Mrs. Mansen who my parents were, and if she knew them. But all the information I got was: Yes, she knew them; No, they weren't dead; and no, I wouldn't believe her if she told me who they were. Supposedly they were famous.

I didn't think I would ever learn who my parents were.

I guess I found out the hard way.

I was sitting in my room. It was a day like any other, the sky gray and the air cold. "Liz, sweetie!" called Mrs. Mansen. "Breakfast!"

"Coming!" I yelled back, pulling on a pair of jeans and an American Eagle hoodie that Mrs. Mansen had imported from Denver. I ran down the stairs. "Good morning," I said cheerfully. I looked at Mrs. Mansen.

Instead of serving pancakes, she was removing the turban from her head. I didn't have time to goggle over what her hair looked like, because jus then Meg waked in, her nose in a book, as usual. This always bugged me, since I had a lot of trouble with reading.

Then Meg looked up and screamed. The book flew out of her hands. "Don't look!" she yelled, turning me away from Mrs. Mansen.

"Why?" I asked. "What's going on?" Meg picked up her book and thrust it into my hands. "Page 60," she whispered.

Right as I was turning the page, I heard hissing behind me. I was about to turn around when Meg pulled my head back to the book. I stared at the page. The writing was in some ancient gibberish. "How am I supposed to read this?" I yelled, losing my temper.

"Just look at it," said Meg. I strained my eyes, trying to make anything out of the strange letters and symbols. Then the writing began to change before my eyes and I realized I could read it. Meg shoved me into the garden full of statues. "Read the page," urged Meg.

"Medusa," I read aloud.

"That's right," said a voice to my left. I turned to look, but Meg jumped in front of me. "Come on," she said, pushing me in the opposite direction.

"Wait, who's Medusa?" I asked. Meg rolled her eyes. "A monster. She turns you to stone by looking at you."

"Wait a minute," I said. "I thought monsters didn't exist."

"Greek ones do," "Greek like me. Greek like you."

"What? Wait, you?"

"Me," said Meg. "Megara Nelson. Daughter of Zeus and your guardian.?

"My guardian? Wait, who's Zeus?" I asked.

Meg sighed. "Ruler of the Olympians and god of the skies."

"What are the Olympians?" I asked.

"Ugh," groaned Meg. "Let's start over. I'm your guardian, which basically means I'm supposed to keep you safe. I'm a demigod, child of a god and a mortal. And you…you are basically full god. Your parents are Hades, god of the Underworld, and Persephone, goddess of spring and Hades's wife."