We Eat Toothpaste
I’ll say it again: thank the gods for Halloween.
I doubt any amount of Mist could have hidden Owl-a-beth and Octo-Percy from the curious eyes of mortals as we fled, especially since my tentacles kept slapping passersby for no particular reason. Because it was Halloween, though, most people would think, Wow, those costumes are incredible, and that third guy is fully human! Amazing!
After a few blocks, we ducked into an alley to catch our breath.
“WHO!” Annabeth said.
I looked at Grover. “Can you understand her?”
Grover’s face was still covered in bee-sting welts. He picked a piece of gravel from between his toes. “What? No. It’s not a regular animal language she’s speaking. It’s—I don’t know.”
“WHO!” Annabeth demanded.
I held up one tentacle in a placating gesture. Then I realized it might look like a worm to a giant bird, so I put it down again. “I’m going to guess
you’re asking what happens now. Gale and I made a possible cure.” On my shoulder, Gale chirped, It’s not just possible! It’s genius!
I explained how Gale and I had bonded while mixing potions in a collapsing building. I didn’t mention the vision I’d seen. I didn’t think Gale would
appreciate me sharing that with the whole group, but I proudly presented Annabeth and Grover our bowl of turquoise goop.
Annabeth rotated her head in a circle and coughed. Everybody’s a critic.
Grover sniffed. “I think it smells good. Like cinnamon toothpaste. Do we rub it on our gums?”
“I—Hmm. I thought it was like a lotion for your skin ….”
“Bark!” Gale said, outraged. “We have to eat it?” I asked. “Bark!” Gale agreed.
Suddenly I wasn’t so sure about this recipe. The process of making it had been a blur, but I remembered the iron filings, a few bubbling toxins, and some things that had looked like insect shells.
“How much?” Grover asked.
I looked in the bowl. My heart sank. There wasn’t nearly as much as I’d thought. The paste had congealed into three golf-ball-size lumps, almost like it had divided itself into suggested serving sizes. But if we only had three …
I started to say, “I’m not sure—” “Gimme,” said Grover.
He scooped out one blob of paste and stuck it in his mouth.
As soon as he swallowed, he doubled over and gagged. “ACK!” I put my hand on his back. “Grover?”
My polecat lab partner skittered across my shoulders, anxious to see what would happen to Patient Zero. Despite my newfound respect for Gale, I had a horrible thought that this paste might be an elaborate prank to make us all fart forever.
Grover shuddered violently. He staggered over to a dumpster and retched.
“WHO!” Annabeth ruffled her head plumage.
“Oh, gods,” I said. “I’m so sorry, Grover! We’ll get you back to the manse. Maybe there’s an antidote or—”
“No,” Grover gasped. “Wait.”
He retched a little more. Tufts of goat hair started sprouting on his legs. His knees bent backward. His feet hardened and turned into hooves.
Praise the squirrels! Grover was a satyr again. He turned and spat out a toenail. “Blah.”
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“That is definitely not cinnamon toothpaste.” He gave me a weak smile.
Even the welts on his face were starting to fade. “But you did it, Percy! I feel like me.”
“Gale is the real hero,” I said.
Gale chittered, obviously pleased.
I turned to Annabeth. “Okay … so if you’re ready …”
Annabeth tore into the second ball of paste with her sharp, hooked bill.
Gale jumped off my shoulder and scampered to a nearby fruit crate …. I guess because giant owls are something polecats have nightmares about.
Annabeth gagged. Her beak opened wide. Her owl eyes got even larger.
Her crown feathers stood on end like blades. She brought her hands to her throat—the universal sign for choking.
I panicked. Would the Heimlich maneuver work on a half human, half
raptor? I only had octopus tentacles, but I hustled behind her and did my best to find her sternum the way my fourth-grade health teacher had taught us. I thrust upward into her diaphragm.
COUGH!
An owl pellet the size of a melon shot from her throat and bounced off the opposite wall. She doubled over, breathing heavily. When she straightened
again, she was normal Annabeth—human face, human hair with the scent of her usual apple shampoo.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I’ll take stupid questions for five hundred, please,” she said hoarsely. I grinned. “That’s a yes.”
She looked at my octopus arms. “You, however …”
“Yeah …” I looked in the bowl. One blob of paste was stuck to the bottom. It was even smaller than the doses Grover and Annabeth had taken.
Annabeth seemed to understand the problem. It was nice to be able to read her expressions again, even if she was looking at me with a mix of anxiety and dread.
“Your call,” she said.
I walked over to Gale’s fruit crate. I knelt so we were eye to eye. “There’s only enough left for one of us, isn’t there?”
She chirped—definitely a yes.
“I don’t suppose we can make more when we get back to Hecate’s?” I asked.
She gave me a longer series of barks and chitters. I looked at Grover for a translation.
“She says no,” he told me. “Some of those ingredients take centuries to grow.”
I imagined Hecate could change me back with a wave of her hand. Then again, if I looked like a half octopus when she got home, the truth would come out. She’d blast me into deep-fried Percy calamari.
Maybe I could ask my dad for help. He was an expert on sea stuff. Then again, he already had one immortal son, Triton, with two fish tails. Poseidon might not see the issue. Then we’d get into a whole sea animals are better than land animals conversation. He’d probably tell me he’d always wanted an octopus for a son and I should consider myself lucky.
I shuddered, my tentacles rippling with revulsion.
I offered the bowl to Gale. “I promised I would help you if you helped me.
And you did. You saved my friends. If you want to be human again, you deserve it. You’re an incredible witch, maybe the best ever.”
Gale tilted her head, considering me. I got the feeling she knew exactly what I’d seen when I touched her back in the lab. I was determined not to show her any pity. I meant what I said. She was incredible. She deserved more than a curse.
The polecat started chittering again.
“She says she likes you,” Grover translated. “You’re not bad for a demigod.” “Thanks?”
“She appreciates you keeping your word.”
I nodded. No problem. I could have tentacles forever. Maybe I’d finally learn to tie my shoes.
“But she doesn’t want to change back to human,” Grover added. I caught my breath. “Wh-what?”
“Polecats are much prettier,” Grover said. “And she’s had centuries to get used to her new form. Besides, she’s immortal. If she turned human, she’d get old and die. Then she’d have less time to research new recipes. She
wants you to take the antidote. But she also wants you to keep your promise about asking Hecate to let her have an alchemy lab and assistants with
opposable thumbs.”
“I … Yeah, of course!”
Gale pushed the bowl toward me with her little paws. “CHARK!”
“Thanks, Gale,” I said, tearing up all over again. “You are a polecat among polecats.”
I scooped up the paste with the tip of my tentacle and choked it down.
I will spare you the details. There was much retching. Things came out of my mouth that should never come out of a human mouth. But once I was
done throwing up, I had my old arms back again. The first thing I did was pull Grover and Annabeth into a group hug.
Gale hopped onto my shoulder and farted in camaraderie. I kissed Annabeth, though my breath probably smelled like cinnamon and bug shells.
“How about we get back to Hecate’s?” I suggested. “I have a weird craving for lobster rolls.”
