Lester Papadopoulos is a typical teenage boy in many ways, but he’s no ordinary 16-year-old.

In fact, his Greek surname hints at his true identity: he’s Apollo, son of the Greek god Zeus, cast down to Earth as a mere mortal as punishment by his really annoyed dad.

Now Lester/Apollo is back in The Dark Prophecy, The Trials of Apollo, the second book about Roman demigods in a five-book series for young readers by best-selling author Rick Riordan. It will be published on May 2 by Disney-Hyperion, and USA TODAY has a first look at the jacket and an exclusive excerpt below.

In the first book, The Hidden Oracle, which hit No. 2 on USA TODAY’s Best-Selling Books list in May, Lester found help dealing with his new reality at Camp Half-Blood of Percy Jackson fame.

In The Dark Prophecy, Lester tries to reclaim his place on Mount Olympus by restoring several Oracles that have gone dark. His quest takes him and several pals (including a robotic dragon named Festus) on a journey across America to find the most dangerous Oracle from ancient times.

“Apollo has quickly become one of my favorite characters,” Riordan tells USA TODAY. “Writing from the point-of-view of an ex-god is such a fun challenge, especially in The Dark Prophecy, where Apollo has to face a Roman emperor with a very personal vendetta to settle."

In this opening excerpt from the new book, Lester and his friends have landed in Indiana, where there is something definitely weird about the cheery locals.

Chapter 1

Lester (Apollo)

Still human; thanks for asking

Gods, I hate my life

When our dragon declared war on Indiana, I knew it was going to be a bad day.

We’d been traveling west for six weeks, and Festus had never shown such hostility toward a state. New Jersey he ignored. Pennsylvania he seemed to enjoy, despite our battle with the Cyclopes of Pittsburgh. Ohio he tolerated, even after our encounter with Potina, the Roman goddess of childhood drinks, who pursued us in the form of a giant red pitcher emblazoned with a smiley face.

Yet for some reason, Festus decided he did not like Indiana. He landed on the cupola of the Indiana Statehouse, flapped his metallic wings, and blew a cone of fire that incinerated the state flag right off the flagpole.

“Whoa, buddy!” Leo Valdez pulled the dragon’s reins. “We’ve talked about this. No blowtorching public monuments!”

Behind him on the dragon’s spine, Calypso gripped Festus’ scales for balance. “Could we please get to the ground? Gently this time?”

For a formerly immortal sorceress who once controlled air spirits, Calypso was not a fan of flying. Cold wind blew her chestnut hair into my face, making me blink and spit.

That’s right, dear reader.

I, the most important passenger, the youth who had once been the glorious god Apollo, was forced to sit in the back of the dragon. Oh, the indignities I had suffered since Zeus stripped me of my divine powers! It wasn’t enough that I was now a sixteen-year-old mortal with the ghastly alias Lester Papadopoulos. It wasn’t enough that I had to toil upon the earth doing (ugh) heroic quests until I could find a way back into my father’s good graces, or that I had a case of acne which simply would not respond to over-the-counter zit medicine. Despite my New York State junior driver’s license, Leo Valdez didn’t trust me to operate his aerial bronze steed!

Festus’ claws scrabbled for a hold on the green copper dome, which was much too small for a dragon his size. I had a flashback to the time I installed a life-size statue of the muse Calliope on my sun chariot and the extra weight of the hood ornament made me nosedive into China and create the Gobi Desert.

Leo glanced back, his face streaked with soot. “Apollo, you sense anything?”

“Why is it my job to sense things? Just because I used to be a god of prophecy — ”

“You’re the one who’s been having visions,” Calypso reminded me. “You said your friend Meg would be here.”

Just hearing Meg’s name gave me a twinge of pain. “That doesn’t mean I can pinpoint her location with my mind! Zeus has revoked my access to GPS!”

“GPS?” Calypso asked.

“Godly positioning systems.”

“That’s not a real thing!”

“Guys, cool it.” Leo patted the dragon’s neck. “Apollo, just try, will you? Does this look like the city you dreamed about or not?”

I scanned the horizon.

Indiana was flat country — highways crisscrossing scrubby brown plains, shadows of winter clouds floating above urban sprawl. Around us rose a meager cluster of downtown high-rises — stacks of stone and glass like layered wedges of black and white licorice. (Not the yummy kind of licorice, either; the nasty variety that sits for eons in your stepmother’s candy bowl on the coffee table. And, no, Hera, why would I be talking about you?)

After falling to earth in New York City, I found Indianapolis desolate and uninspiring, as if one proper New York neighborhood — Midtown, perhaps — had been stretched out to encompass the entire area of Manhattan, then relieved of two-thirds of its population and vigorously power-washed.

I could think of no reason why an evil triumvirate of ancient Roman emperors would take interest in such a location. Nor could I imagine why Meg McCaffrey would be sent here to capture me. Yet my visions had been clear. I had seen this skyline. I had heard my old enemy Nero give orders to Meg: Go west. Capture Apollo before he can find the next Oracle. If you cannot bring him to me alive, kill him.

The truly sad thing about this? Meg was one of my better friends. She also happened to be my demigod master, thanks to Zeus’s twisted sense of humor. As long as I remained mortal, Meg could order me to do anything, even kill myself. . . . No. Better not to think of such possibilities.

I shifted in my metal seat. After so many weeks of travel, I was tired and saddle sore. I wanted to find a safe place to rest. This was not such a city. Something about the landscape below made me as restless as Festus.