I’m not sure how we made it back. As soon as we passed into the shadow-world, I lost consciousness, but Hecuba must have made sure I didn’t fall off. The next thing I remember, I was staring at the glittery ceiling in the great room of the manse and Annabeth was tucking a blanket around me.
“Good job, hero,” she said. “I’m not even going to ask why you have a bikini bottom wrapped around your ankle.”
She kissed me on the forehead, breathing in deeply as if to memorize my scent like Hecuba had with Nope. I blacked out and dreamed of puppies, which was a lot better than my usual dreams.
Kids, always remember to shadow-travel responsibly. If you overdo it, that post-shadow hangover is a KILLER. By the time Annabeth and Grover woke me up the next morning, it was already seven thirty. I should’ve been showered, dressed, and giving aspirin to my homework by then.
“You needed the sleep,” Grover said. “So did they.”
He pointed to Hecuba’s dog bed. The queen of Troy was curled up and snoring, with Nope tucked contentedly up against her belly, making happy little yips in his sleep. Next time I saw Mrs. O’Leary, I owed her a large chew toy. Without her, we never would’ve found the pup that brought home Hecuba.
“She was in no mood for a morning walk.” Annabeth gestured to the front door, which was now reinforced with a vertical tabletop on duct-tape hinges. Nothing but the best security for us. “Really wore herself out last night. Here, eat and tell us what happened.”
She’d made me breakfast: a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel sandwich. If I hadn’t already been in love with her, that would’ve sealed the deal. Grover was also in love—with my sandwich—because he kept stealing bites while I told them about the Midnight Ride of Percy Jackson.
“Oh, a German nightclub!” Grover nodded vigorously. “Was it Berghain? I’ve always wanted to go there.”
I frowned. “I didn’t figure you for a nightclub guy.”
“Are you kidding? I can hoof-boogie with the best of them! I’ve still got that wedding-dress outfit from the Sea of Monsters, too.” He sighed. “Maybe someday.”
I decided I didn’t want to know any more about Grover’s secret disco dreams at the moment. It was bad enough we’d probably have to cancel our Halloween party tomorrow. At some point today, unless we managed to solve all our problems, I would need to remind Grover to send warnings to all our friends not to come unless they wanted to watch us get incinerated. But I didn’t have the heart to bring that up right now.
“I don’t suppose Gale turned up on her own?” I asked.
Annabeth shook her head. “That’s your job for today. You and Grover.”
My spirits lifted. “You mean…?”
“Afraid so,” she said. “I have to go to school. Dave, Hana, and I have a presentation I can’t get out of. I already Iris-messaged your mom, and she’s going to call AHS. You’re taking a sick day.”
“Awesome!”
“To find a polecat.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Well, good luck.” She kissed me. “I left some notes about Gale in the library.” Then she turned to Grover. “Keep an eye on him, okay, Mr. Protector?”
Grover gulped down the last of my bagel sandwich. “Always.”
After Annabeth left, Grover and I got ready for our day. He cleaned up breakfast by eating everything that was left. I fed the eels, showered in an antigravity bathroom (don’t ask how that went), got dressed, and headed into the library.
The Room of Dangerous Knowledge did not disappoint. It was shaped like a trident: three vast halls of floor-to-ceiling ebony bookshelves with a statue of Hecate at the intersection because…Oh, right, goddess of the crossroads. I see what she did there. Iron candelabras hung from the vaulted ceiling, illuminating the room with guttering torchlight. Flames and books seemed like a bad combo, but what did I know? At least Grover’s strawberry rampage hadn’t made it this far into the mansion.
The books went on forever—leatherbound spines, gilt titles, fancy silk bookmark ribbons. I kind of expected to find a guy in a smoking jacket sitting in an overstuffed chair and holding a pipe. But it was just me and the statue in the room.
None of the books called out to me, tempting me with secret spells or forbidden wisdom. They probably saw it was just Percy Jackson and decided to save their breath.
On the nearest table, next to a pile of books, Annabeth had left a yellow legal pad scribbled with notes. I’d never understood how Annabeth could be just as dyslexic as me and still have legible handwriting. Mine looked like cuneiform chiseled by a drunk Sumerian. I was grateful that she’d left me such a helpful cheat sheet, though.
According to the notes, Gale had been a mortal witch back in ancient times. (I knew that.) She had terrible personal hygiene and gas. (I smelled that.) She’d been a seller of potions and magical fragrances and had somehow gotten on Hecate’s bad side, possibly because she was a terrible spokesperson for magic, what with the constant farting and all. (Just a guess.) In a rage, Hecate turned her into a polecat, but then took pity on her and decided to keep her around. In the margin of one page, Annabeth had scrawled some questions:Potions? Fragrances? Anti-gas medicine? Chickens?
I imagined those were the things she thought Gale might go after now that she was free. Maybe Grover and I should wander around Manhattan with a package of Gas-X and a dead chicken and see what happens, I thought.
I was staring at the nearest bookshelf, thinking about our polecat problem, when something caught my eye. On one of the shelves, covered in glass, was a display of papers and small shiny objects.
I walked over to check it out. Books might not have much power over me, but I’m a sucker for small shiny objects.