If your kid devoured Percy Jackson in 48 hours: 10 fantasy adventures where middle-graders save worlds without parental supervision

Your child just demolished The Lightning Thief in two sittings, announced they've chosen their Olympian parent (Athena, obviously), and is now staring at you with that "what's next?" intensity that means sleep is negotiable. You need middle grade fantasy books like Percy Jackson—fast. Preferably ones with quests, reluctant heroes, and a refreshing absence of responsible adults.

The Verdict: These ten fantasy adventures deliver the same "kid versus impossible odds" energy that makes Riordan's mythology marathons so addictive, from daemon-bonded orphans in alternate Oxford to teen gods serving detention in the mortal realm.

Northern Lights — Philip Pullman

Quick Verdict: If Percy Jackson is "Greek gods meet summer camp," Northern Lights is "parallel universes meet armoured polar bears," and it's gloriously weird.

Lyra Belacqua doesn't wait for permission—she eavesdrops on scholars, lies like breathing, and has a daemon (her soul, living outside her body as an animal companion) who questions her judgment constantly. When children start disappearing in her alternate Oxford, including her best mate Roger, Lyra heads north with a truth-telling device she barely understands and a polar bear who's seen some things. Pullman's world-building is dense in the best way: every chapter introduces another layer (witches, experimental theology, Dust particles that might be original sin). The stakes feel enormous because they are enormous—this isn't just a rescue mission, it's a war between dimensions. For kids who found Percy's sarcasm funny but want something with more philosophical weight, this is the gateway drug to questioning authority while riding bears. Explore our current copy of Northern Lights

The Lost Hero (Heroes of Olympus Book 1) — Rick Riordan

Quick Verdict: More Riordan, different pantheon—Jason wakes up with amnesia and a girlfriend he doesn't recognise, which is peak middle-grade chaos.

If your kid has already inhaled the original Percy Jackson series and is experiencing withdrawal, hand them this immediately. Riordan pivots from Greek to Roman mythology (because apparently one set of temperamental gods wasn't enough), introduces three new demigods, and kicks things off with Jason Grace having zero memories on a school bus. The genius here is Riordan's refusal to rest on his laurels—Piper and Leo feel distinct, not like Percy clones, and the Roman/Greek god tension adds political intrigue to the usual monster-slaying. The chapters alternate between perspectives, which keeps the pacing frantic, and there's a flying bronze dragon named Festus who becomes the series' emotional core (no, really). It's comfort food for kids who've memorised Camp Half-Blood's layout but want a fresh quest with higher body counts. Explore our current copy of The Lost Hero

The Hidden Oracle (The Trials of Apollo Book 1) — Rick Riordan

Quick Verdict: Apollo gets kicked out of Olympus and turned into a mortal teenager—imagine Percy Jackson but the god is the protagonist and he's terrible at being human.

This BAM exclusive hardback is Riordan at his most audacious: taking the vainest god in the pantheon and forcing him to navigate high school, acne, and quests without divine powers. Apollo (now "Lester Papadopoulos") is hilarious because he's genuinely awful—he writes terrible haikus, complains constantly, and slowly realises he's been a rubbish deity for millennia. The supporting cast includes Meg McCaffrey, a garbage-dress-wearing demigod who bosses Apollo around, and the return of Camp Half-Blood with new threats. What makes this series sing is watching an immortal learn empathy through failure; by book's end, Apollo's earned his heroism instead of assuming it. For kids who loved Percy's snark but are ready for a protagonist who starts selfish and grows a conscience, this is Riordan's most character-driven work. Explore our current copy of The Hidden Oracle

Part of Your World (Disney: A Twisted Tale #3) — Liz Braswell

Quick Verdict: Ariel loses, Ursula wins, and the ocean becomes a dystopian nightmare—Disney for kids who've outgrown happy endings.

Braswell's "Twisted Tale" series asks "what if the villain won?" and this entry is deliciously dark. Ariel never defeats Ursula; instead, she's trapped as a polyp in the sea witch's garden while Ursula rules both ocean and land using Ariel's voice. The twist? Five years later, Ariel escapes and has to overthrow a dictator without her most powerful weapon (that voice). It's a revenge thriller disguised as a Disney retelling, with political intrigue, body horror, and a heroine who's lost everything. For Percy Jackson fans, the appeal is similar: a teen versus an all-powerful enemy, except Ariel's fighting with espionage and alliances instead of a sword. The world-building adds layers to the original film (merfolk politics, Ursula's backstory), and there's genuine suspense because we know the happy ending isn't guaranteed. Perfect for kids ready to graduate from straightforward quests to morally complex rebellions. Explore our current copy of Part of Your World

The Hazel Wood — Melissa Albert

Quick Verdict: Grimm's fairy tales meet modern horror—Alice's grandmother wrote dark stories that are bleeding into reality, and she's the protagonist.

Alice has spent seventeen years running from bad luck with her mother Ella, never staying anywhere long enough to make friends or ask why. When Ella vanishes with only a cryptic message about "staying away from the Hazel Wood" (Alice's grandmother's estate), Alice dives into her grandmother's cult-favourite fairy tale collection and discovers the stories are hunting her. Albert's prose is sharp and unsettling—this isn't whimsical fantasy, it's creeping dread where fairy tales have teeth and happy endings require blood prices. The Hinterland (the world where stories live) operates on brutal logic: characters exist to fulfil their tales, and escaping means rewriting your narrative from the inside. For Percy Jackson fans who found the Underworld chapters most compelling, this leans into that darkness and doesn't blink. The twist halfway through recontextualises everything Alice knows about her identity, and the resolution demands she become the author of her own story—literally. Explore our current copy of The Hazel Wood

The Singer of All Songs (Chanters of Tremaris Book 1) — Kate Constable

Quick Verdict: Australian-authored magic system where songs control elements—Calwyn's sheltered priestess life explodes when she meets a chanter hunting a rogue sorcerer.

Constable's trilogy deserves more international recognition; it's got the world-saving stakes of Percy Jackson with a magic system that feels earned. Calwyn has lived her entire life in Antaris, a community of ice-chanters whose songs can freeze water mid-air, heal wounds, or kill. When she meets Darrow, a chanter hunting the dangerous Samis who's collecting all nine types of chantment (ice, iron, fire, etc.), she abandons her sheltered existence for a quest across Tremaris. The magic here requires training, practice, and consequences—characters lose their voices from overuse, songs fail under pressure, and power doesn't guarantee victory. The romance develops slowly (refreshing for middle-grade), and Calwyn's arc from naive priestess to confident leader feels authentic. For kids who loved Percy's growth from "who am I?" to "I'm the son of Poseidon," Calwyn's journey hits the same notes with more introspective depth. Plus, it's Australian fantasy that doesn't rely on Northern Hemisphere tropes, which feels bracingly original. Explore our current copy of The Singer of All Songs

The Waterless Sea (Chanters of Tremaris Book 2) — Kate Constable

Quick Verdict: Calwyn's crew heads to the desert to find fire-chanters, and the sequel expands the magic system while deepening character relationships.

Middle books often sag, but Constable uses The Waterless Sea to flesh out Tremaris beyond ice-magic and introduce Keela, a young fire-chanter whose people have been enslaved. The desert setting forces Calwyn (an ice-chanter) out of her comfort zone—her powers are weaker in heat, and she's learning that heroism isn't about having the strongest magic, it's about using what you have strategically. The political intrigue ramps up here; liberating Keela's people requires dismantling an entire economy built on slavery, and there's no clean solution. For Percy Jackson fans who appreciated the Luke Castellan arc (good people making terrible choices), this book explores how oppression creates cycles of violence. The found-family dynamic between Calwyn, Darrow, and their growing crew feels lived-in, and the stakes are simultaneously intimate (saving Keela) and epic (preventing a sorcerer from monopolising all chantment). Explore our current copy of The Waterless Sea

The Tenth Power (Chanters of Tremaris Book 3) — Kate Constable

Quick Verdict: The trilogy concludes with Calwyn discovering a lost tenth chantment and facing the reality that saving the world requires sacrifice, not just courage.

Constable sticks the landing. The Tenth Power reveals there's a tenth type of magic—more powerful and dangerous than the other nine combined—and Samis (the villain from book one) is back and hunting for it. The genius move here is making Calwyn confront what she's willing to lose: her voice, her friends, her sense of self. The climax doesn't rely on a convenient power-up; instead, Calwyn wins by understanding the fundamental nature of chantment and making an impossible choice. For kids who've followed Percy through five books and want a finale that earns its emotional beats, this delivers. The world-building pays off (every detail from books one and two matters), the magic system reaches its logical conclusion, and the epilogue provides closure without feeling saccharine. It's the kind of trilogy where you immediately want to reread book one to catch all the foreshadowing, and it proves Australian middle-grade fantasy can hold its own against international blockbusters. Explore our current copy of The Tenth Power

These ten books share Percy Jackson's DNA—kids thrust into impossible situations, magic systems with rules, and the radical idea that adults are either absent, unhelpful, or actively villainous. They're the answer when your middle-grader finishes a Riordan book, looks up with wild eyes, and demands "More. Now." Hand them any of these, watch them disappear into their room for six hours, and congratulate yourself on raising a reader who knows that the best adventures happen when parents aren't looking.