Page 52 of Wrath of the Triple Goddess

“I remember you now, Percy Jackson,” she said. “Your friend is right. You’reno one. Or at least, you’re about to be!”

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 forthat?”

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 youSERIOUS?!” 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 eventoldyou, did he? We were probably just another bunch of casual victims to him, a few more lives he destroyed along his way to herodom.”

“Herodomis 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’llhaveto give me more time with the witch.”

“The witch,” Grover said. “Gale.”

Silbe snorted. “Of courseGale. 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 asmack. 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.

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