Chapter Text
I was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually they were over quickly. This twenty four/seven hallucination was more than I could handle. For the rest of the school year, the entire campusseemed to be playing some kind of trick on me. The students acted as if they were completely andtotally convinced that Mrs. Kerr—a perky blond woman whom I'd never seen in my life until she got onour bus at the end of the field trip—had been our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.
Every so often I would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on somebody, just to see if I could trip themup, but they would stare at me like I was psycho.
"Chiron," Annabeth growled.
It got so I almost believed them—Mrs. Dodds had never existed.Almost.
But Grover couldn't fool me. When I mentioned the name Dodds to him, he would hesitate, thenclaim she didn't exist. But I knew he was lying.
"Grover cannot lie to save his life," Nico shook his head.
Ajax, Nymphadora, Artemis, Draco, Clarisse, Percy, Annabeth, Grover, and Coach Hedge exchanged a look. "Well, actually," Ajax began. "There was one time -"
"Don't you dare!" Grover cringed.
Something was going on. Something had happened at the museum.
I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds withtalons and leathery wings would wake me up in a cold sweat.
"Scary."
The freak weather continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out thewindows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valleytouched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in socialstudies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in theAtlantic that year.
"Your dads are dramatic," Artemis told Percy, Jason and Thalia.
I started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time. My grades slipped from Ds to Fs. I got intomore fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends. I was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.
Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked me for the millionth time why I was too lazy tostudy for spelling tests, I snapped. I called him an old sot. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but itsounded good.
The headmaster sent my mom a letter the following week, making it official: I would not be invitedback next year to Yancy Academy.
Fine, I told myself. Just fine.
I was homesick.I wanted to be with my mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Side, even if I had to go topublic school and put up with my obnoxious stepfather and his stupid poker parties.
"What did happen to Smelly?" Draco asked curiously.
"Oh, you know that package that we sent to Olympus. It got returned to sender, and he had the misfortune of opening it," Percy sighed. "What a pity. For the package - that it had to be in his presence."
And yet . . . there were things I'd miss at Yancy. The view of the woods out my dorm window, theHudson River in the distance, the smell of pine trees. I'd miss Grover, who'd been a good friend, even ifhe was a little strange. I worried how he'd survive next year without me.
I'd miss Latin class, too—Mr. Brunner's crazy tournament days and his faith that I could do well.As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunnerhad told me about this subject being life-and-death for me. I wasn't sure why, but I'd started to believehim.
"Good."
The evening before my final, I got so frustrated I threw the Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythologyacross my dorm room. Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doingone-eighties as if they were riding skateboards. There was no way I was going to remember thedifference between Chiron and Charon, or Polydictes and Polydeuces. And conjugating those Latinverbs? Forget it.
"Funny, you met both Chiron and Charon in this book," Ajax joked.
I paced the room, feeling like ants were crawling around inside my shirt.I remembered Mr. Brunner's serious expression, his thousand-year-old eyes.I will accept only thebest from you, Percy Jackson.
I took a deep breath. I picked up the mythology book.I'd never asked a teacher for help before. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give me somepointers. At least I could apologize for the big fat F I was about to score on his exam. I didn't want toleave Yancy Academy with him thinking I hadn't tried.
"First and last time I gave a sh*t about a teacher," Percy shook his head.
I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner'sdoor was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor.
I was three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked aquestion. A voice that was definitely Grover's said ". . . worried about Percy, sir."
I froze.I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friendtalking about you to an adult.I inched closer.
". . . alone this summer," Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that weknow for sure, and they know too—"
"We would only make matters worse by rushing him," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the boy tomature more."
"But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline—"
"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."
"Too late."
"Sir, he saw her. . . ."
"His imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough toconvince him of that."
"almost, but Grover can only lie to save his life once," Percy laughed, and Grover glared.
"We don't talk about that!"
"Sir, I . . . I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You knowwhat that would mean."
Thalia, Grover, and Annabeth were silent.
"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was.Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall—"
The mythology book dropped out of my hand and hit the floor with a thud.Mr. Brunner went silent.
"Wow, he is stupid."
My heart hammering, I picked up the book and backed down the hall.
A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something muchtaller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archer'sbow.I opened the nearest door and slipped inside.
"Maybe it was an archer's bow."
A few seconds later I heard a slow clop-clop-clop, like muffled wood blocks, then a sound like ananimal snuffling right outside my door. A large, dark shape paused in front of the glass, then moved on.A bead of sweat trickled down my neck.
Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't beenright since the winter solstice."
"Stupid Luke."
"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn . . ."
"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."
"Don't remind me."
Coach Hedge and Grover groaned. "All the tests were the worst part," Grover grumbled.
"Not the bullying?" Frank frowned.
The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office.I waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.Finally, I slipped out into the hallway and made my way back up to the dorm.
Grover was lying on his bed, studying his Latin exam notes like he'd been there all night. "Hey," he said, bleary-eyed. "You going to be ready for this test?"
I didn't answer. "You look awful." He frowned. "Is everything okay?"
"Just . . . tired."I turned so he couldn't read my expression, and started getting ready for bed.I didn't understand what I'd heard downstairs. I wanted to believe I'd imagined the whole thing.
But one thing was clear: Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about me behind my back. Theythought I was in some kind of danger.
"You were though," Jason pointed out.
The next afternoon, as I was leaving the three-hour Latin exam, my eyes swimming with all theGreek and Roman names I'd misspelled, Mr. Brunner called me back inside.For a moment, I was worried he'd found out about my eavesdropping the night before, but thatdidn't seem to be the problem.
"Percy," he said. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's . . . it's for the best."
"Oh my gods," Annabeth groaned, burying her head in her hands.
His tone was kind, but the words still embarrassed me. Even though he was speaking quietly, theother kids finishing the test could hear. Nancy Bobofit smirked at me and made sarcastic little kissingmotions with her lips.
I mumbled, "Okay, sir."
"I mean . . ." Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn't sure what to say. "Thisisn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time."
"You have no tact Chiron!" Annabeth shouted.
My eyes stung.Here was my favorite teacher, in front of the class, telling me I couldn't handle it. After saying hebelieved in me all year, now he was telling me I was destined to get kicked out.
"Right," I said, trembling.
"No, no," Mr. Brunner said. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say . . . you're not normal,Percy. That's nothing to be—"
"OH MY GODS JUST STOP!"
"Thanks," I blurted. "Thanks a lot, sir, for reminding me."
"Percy—"
But I was already gone.
On the last day of the term, I shoved my clothes into my suitcase.
The other guys were joking around, talking about their vacation plans. One of them was going on ahiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month. They were juveniledelinquents, like me, but they were rich juvenile delinquents. Their daddies were executives, orambassadors, or celebrities. I was a nobody, from a family of nobodies.
Piper swallowed. "Wow, that is the biggest pile of bullsh*t. Those vacations were boring anyway."
They asked me what I'd be doing this summer and I told them I was going back to the city.What I didn't tell them was that I'd have to get a summer job walking dogs or selling magazinesubscriptions, and spend my free time worrying about where I'd go to school in the fall.
"Oh," one of the guys said. "That's cool."They went back to their conversation as if I'd never existed.
The only person I dreaded saying good-bye to was Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to.He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as I had, so there we were, together again,heading into the city.
"Wow, I wonder why."
During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the otherpassengers. It occurred to me that he'd always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy, as if heexpected something bad to happen. Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased.
But there was nobody to tease him on the Greyhound.Finally I couldn't stand it anymore.I said, "Looking for Kindly Ones?"
"Giving him a heart attack," Hazel shook her head.
Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha—what do you mean?"
I confessed about eavesdropping on him and Mr. Brunner the night before the exam. Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"
"Clearly not enough to be worried."
"Oh . . . not much. What's the summer solstice deadline?"
He winced. "Look, Percy . . . I was just worried for you, see? I mean, hallucinating about demonmath teachers . . ."
"Grover—"
"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were overstressed or something, because there wasno such person as Mrs. Dodds, and . . ."
"Grover, you're a really, really bad liar."
"How was the wedding Groves?" Draco teased, and Grover flushed pink.
His ears turned pink.From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you needme this summer."
The card was in fancy script, which was murder on my dyslexic eyes, but I finally made outsomething like:
Grover Underwood
Keeper
Half-Blood Hill
Long Island, New York
(800) 009-0009
"What's Half—"
"Don't say it aloud!" he yelped. "That's my, um . . . summer address."
My heart sank. Grover had a summer home. I'd never considered that his family might be as rich asthe others at Yancy.
Coach Hedge snorted.
"Okay," I said glumly. "So, like, if I want to come visit your mansion."
He nodded. "Or . . . or if you need me."
"Why would I need you?"It came out harsher than I meant it to.
"Oh my gods you stupid," Annabeth didn't finish, leaning against Piper in pain.
Grover blushed right down to his Adam's apple. "Look, Percy, the truth is, I—I kind of have toprotect you."
I stared at him.All year long, I'd gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him. I'd lost sleep worrying that he'dget beaten up next year without me. And here he was acting like he was the one who defended me.
"Awww," Luna cooed.
"Grover," I said, "what exactly are you protecting me from?"
There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and thewhole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to theside of the highway.
After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd allhave to get off. Grover and I filed outside with everybody else.
We were on a stretch of country road—no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On ourside of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, acrossfour lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.
The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of bloodred cherries and apples, walnuts andapricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sittingin rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen.
"Reminds me of S.P.E.W., ay Hermione," Harry teased, and Hermione shot him a fierce glare.
I mean these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the rightknitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormousbasket of electric-blue yarn.
All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back inwhite bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right at me.
"You saw the Fates!" Clarisse gasped.
"Aren't those the people in the note?" Blaise Zabini questioned.
I looked over at Grover to say something about this and saw that the blood had drained from hisface. His nose was twitching.
"Grover?" I said. "Hey, man—"
"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?"
"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?"
"Persassy."
"Shut up Ajax."
"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all."
"Kinda funny."
The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors—gold and silver, long-bladed, likeshears. I heard Grover catch his breath.
"We're getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on."
"What?" I said. "It's a thousand degrees in there."
"You survived Tartarus, you can survive that."
"Come on!" He pried open the door and climbed inside, but I stayed back.
Across the road, the old ladies were still watching me. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear Icould hear that snip across four lanes of traffic. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks,leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for—Sasquatch or Godzilla.
"Probably Kronos," Nymphadora mumbled, earning a kick in the shins from Annabeth.
At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the enginecompartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.The passengers cheered.
"Leo could have fixed it in two seconds," Artemis said sadly. Hazel and Frank exchanged a look.
"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"
Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the flu.Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.
"Grover?"
"Yeah?"
"What are you not telling me?"
"A lot."
He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"
"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like . . . Mrs. Dodds, are they?"
His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were somethingmuch, much worse than Mrs. Dodds. He said, "Just tell me what you saw."
"The middle one took out her scissors, and she cut the yarn."
He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but itwasn't. It was something else, something almost—older.
He said, "You saw her snip the cord."
"Yeah. So?" But even as I said it, I knew it was a big deal.
"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to belike the last time."
"What last time?"
"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth."
Piper chuckled. "Well, um, Leo and I got well past sixth grade," she smirked, but her smile faded a bit at the mention of Leo.
"Grover," I said, because he was really starting to scare me. "What are you talking about?"
"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me."
This seemed like a strange request to me, but I promised he could.
Grover and Percy were silent. Annabeth groaned. "Let me guess -"
"Don't bother," Grover shook his head. "He ditched me at first opportunity."
"Is this like a superstition or something?" I asked.
No answer.
"Grover—that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?"
He looked at me mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers I'd like best on mycoffin.
"That's Annabeth's choice," Piper piped in.
"Anyway, time for Chapter 3," Hermione announced. She blinked, glanced between Percy, Grover, and the book, then sighed again. "Grover Unexpectedly Loses His Pants.Please tell me that's a joke?"
