Grover Leaves a Five-Hoof Review Wow, I was feeling fancy all right.
I couldn’t move my limbs. I was drooling uncontrollably. My nostrils and mouth burned like I’d just walked through a wildfire of burning polecat fur.
I was the fanciest heap of useless flesh in Lower Manhattan.
“Spellbound!” Silbe announced proudly. “Your loved one will be paralyzed by the fragrance!”
She beamed at Grover. “Good, don’t you think? I’m considering hiring some monster influencers, have them paralyze a few demigods and stream it live.”
“No!” Grover yelped. “No, that’s not good at all! Who would pay a thousand golden drachmas for that?”
He gestured at me. I tried not to be offended. I assumed he was talking about my condition, not me as a person.
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Silbe said. “It’s all about exclusivity. Not many customers have an elixir as powerful as Spellbound. I can think of quite a few who would pay to turn this particular hero into a helpless sack of—”
“Hey!” Grover protested. “That’s my friend. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m a Cloven Elder! You’d better fix him right now or—”
Silbe laughed. “You’re free to go, Mr. Cloven Elder. I’ll even give you a complimentary box of cypress perfume for your lady friend. You, I have no problem with. You weren’t there—”
“Where?” Grover demanded. “What did he ever do to you?” “Are you SERIOUS?!” Silbe shrieked.
My fingers were starting to tingle. I guessed Grover was playing for time, hoping that the perfume’s effects would wear off soon. It would be a good strategy if it worked. Sadly, Silbe was still holding her Spellbound sampler, and it would only take another squirt to put Grover on the floor next to me. I tried to move my hand. My big toe twitched instead. Maybe if I drooled faster, or let my heart beat harder from absolute terror … Those things I could do.
Silbe shook her head in disgust. “He never even told you, did he? We were probably just another bunch of casual victims to him, a few more lives he destroyed along his way to herodom.”
“Herodom is not a real word,” Grover said. He looked at me. “Is it?” I drooled unhelpfully.
I could feel all my toes inside my socks now. With luck, maybe I could manage to kick Silbe in the ankle.
“I’m not going to get into it,” Silbe grumbled. “The twins and Filomena think they’re the only ones who know how to use our new servant? I’ll show them! Wait until they see what I managed with Spellbound. They’ll have to give me more time with the witch.”
“The witch,” Grover said. “Gale.”
Silbe snorted. “Of course Gale. It’s not often life gives you a second chance, especially in the form of a magical polecat. I intend to make the most of it! Now leave, satyr, while you still can.”
He glanced at me. I winked, because that was all I could manage. I hoped it sent the message that my paralysis was slowly wearing off. If he could just buy me more time, like several hours …
“Fine!” Grover said. “But I expect gift wrapping!”
There was the satyr hero I knew and loved—cowing our enemies with demands of gift wrapping.
Silbe rolled her eyes. “Very well. I think I have … Let’s see. I’ll be right back.”
I heard her high heels clicking on the floor as she went into the back room. Grover knelt next to me, slapped my face, and whimpered, “Percy?
Percy, unfreeze!” as if I hadn’t thought of that myself. He grabbed a random vial from the display tray and spritzed me. This did not help, though it did make me smell like cherry blossoms.
From the back room, Silbe called, “I have jack-o’-lanterns or black cats!” “No, not Halloween!” Grover shouted back. “This is for Saturnalia!”
Silbe growled in frustration, but she kept rummaging around.
“Percy!” Grover hissed. He lifted my arm, which fell right back down with a
smack. At least it hurt. That meant my feeling was coming back.
With a panicky yelp, Grover rummaged around in his pockets. He pulled out a paper clip (why?), a Hot Wheels car (again, why?), and something that looked like a wad of lint. He opened my mouth and stuck the lint under my tongue.
I did my best to drool in an outraged way. My eyes sent the message Dude.
“Here we are!” Silbe crooned, bursting through the curtains with a roll of gift paper. “It has little snowflakes on it. That will have to do. And here are a few ribbons and bows to choose from. Now, normally, the price for the
Cypress Summer Breeze would be—”
“Wait, I need gift wrapping for him, too.” He pointed at me.
Silbe looked incredulous enough for both of us. “You want to gift wrap your friend? But I was going to dispose of him, after I tied him up and showed him to my sisters. I was looking forward to gloating.”
“Silbe,” Grover said, “I can write you a glowing review in Cloven Elders’ Monthly. Five hooves. I’ve never given any establishment five hooves. But you have to meet me halfway. You said my friend has the same chemistry profile as my girlfriend, yes? I want to make sure the gift wrapping looks good on him before we wrap up her present!”
This made absolutely no sense to me. Then again, I was a slab of meat on the floor and nobody had asked my opinion. Also, the customer was always right, I guess. Silbe’s eyes had lit up at the thought of a five-hoof review in Cloven Elders’ Monthly, which I was pretty sure didn’t exist.
“Fine.” She set the bottle of Spellbound on the counter, knelt, and stuck a
blue bow on my forehead. “Oh, yes, that’s definitely his color. I may present him to my sisters that way. Now, about your girlfriend’s gift …”
As they debated ribbon and bow options, I realized I could now taste the nasty lint under my tongue. Warmth was spreading down my throat and into my lungs. My fingers twitched. I could flex my hand.
Whatever Grover had put in my mouth seemed to be hastening my recovery.
Grover turned to keep Silbe’s back to me. As he asked probing questions about her return policies, I managed to sit up, feeling woozy and sluggish. I fumbled for my sword, but I couldn’t make my hand work right. I accidentally slumped into the sales counter, pushing it sideways, and a vial rolled off the edge and into my lap: the bottle of Spellbound.
Silbe spun to face me. “WHAT?!”
Grover hit her over the head with the roll of snowflake wrapping paper, which made her turn. “HEY!”
I managed to get my clumsy fingers around the perfume bottle. I almost squirted it in the wrong direction, into my own face, which would not have
been great. Just as Silbe realized that Grover was only a distraction and probably not serious about that five-hoof review, I got the vial pointed in the right direction and sprayed Silbe’s legs.
She collapsed into a kneeling position. “How dare you!” she shrieked.
I squirted her face five times.
She keeled over sideways and began to drool and twitch. “Urgh,” I said.
Grover helped me up. My legs felt like foam swimming-pool noodles. I leaned against the counter.
“Danks, man.” I spat the lint out of my mouth. “Wha’ waz zat?” It came out a little slurred since my tongue and lips were still numb.
“Piece of brown toad eye.” “Wha’ now?”
“Curative dried mushroom. I wasn’t sure it would work.”
“Well, peesciate it,” I told him. “Neber gedding dat taste outta my mouf.
Les’ check da back woom ….” I tried to take a step and almost face-planted. “Maybe you should check the back woom. I’ll watch Silbe.”
Grover ducked behind the curtain. While he searched, Silbe and I glared at each other and drooled menacingly.
“No polecat,” Grover said when he reemerged. “But I did find this.”
He handed me another business card. This one was bright pink and read SCENTS FOREVER in glittery silver, with smaller letters at the bottom: DAEDRA AND PHAEDRA, PROPRIETORS, followed by an address.
“My gods,” I said. “The business names just keep getting worse.” At least my mouth was getting better. “I’m gonna guess Daedra and Phaedra are the twins. And this address is only, like, three blocks south.”
Grover nodded. “What do we do with this one?” He kicked Silbe’s shoe.
I thought about it. I didn’t want to make her go poof into a cloud of rose fragrance if I could help it, no matter how mean she had been to me.
Something told me these sisters had a legitimate reason for wanting revenge. I couldn’t remember what it was, but it made me feel bad.
“She’d look nice gift wrapped,” I said. “Maybe the jack-o’-lantern paper?” Grover grinned. “There’s duct tape back there, too!”
We got to work making Silbe all pretty for Halloween.
I was feeling good about our work, almost giddy, when the store’s front door opened and a girl in a raincoat stormed in. With her hood up and an N95 mask over her face, I didn’t recognize her for a second. Then I noticed the dagger in her hand, like she was ready to shank a naiad.
When she saw us, her shoulders relaxed.
Annabeth swept her hood back and tugged down her mask. “Thank the gods you two are okay.” She looked at the blue bow on my forehead, then Silbe in her duct tape and jack-o’-lantern gift wrapping. “What in the name of
Athena are you doing?”
