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On the left side of the display were yellowed pamphlets with old-timey lettering with titles likePractickal forceryandPotionf for Beginnyng Uferf. In the middle, a flyer forHECATE’S SCHOOL OF MAGIC, 1913–14 Academic Yearhad been ripped to pieces, then matted and framed that way, as if Hecate wanted to memorialize the moment of rage when it was shredded. On the right was a collection of old seeing devices—binoculars, monocles, some contact lenses preserved in a bottle of solution, and half a dozen pairs of children’s eyeglasses. Yeah. Not creepy at all. Under this collection was a brass plaque engraved withWHAT COULD HAVE BEEN.
I lifted the top of the display case. I picked up a pair of blue-framed glasses that were snapped in half at the bridge. They were the same ones I’d seen in my vision of the child pedaling away from the manse in terror. On the right stem, the initialsSEJwere monogrammed in gold.
I felt like I had shadow-traveled into a block of ice. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.SEJ.I knew those initials.
Chiron had tried to warn me. Ghosts seemed to crowd around me—not just the spirits of the dead, but the memories and regrets entombed in this little display. I managed to put the glasses back. I couldn’t process what this meant right away. It was already Thursday morning. We had a polecat to find, a mansion to repair, and only forty-eight hours before Hecate came home.…
I backed out of the library, doing my best not to break into a run.
“What’s wrong?” Grover asked when I joined him in the great room. “You look like—”
“Don’t saylike you’ve seen a ghost,” I pleaded.
He studied my expression. I knew he could sense my fear and confusion, but he didn’t press the issue. “Okay…Did you learn anything? About Gale?”
I nodded weakly. I did my best to shelve my unanswered questions and anxiety inside a glass case in the back of my mind. I told Grover what I’d read in Annabeth’s notes.
Grover scratched his goatee. “Fragrances or medicine for gas…We need to narrow things down or we’ll never find her.”
I looked over at the sleeping hellhounds. I had a feeling they wouldn’t be joining us on this particular hunt. I also wasn’t too worried about Hecuba trying to escape again. If my experience with Mrs. O’Leary was any guide, Hecuba and Nope would be asleep all day. I just wished I could join them.
“So, we walk around town with chicken carcasses, then?” I asked.
Grover looked troubled, like Annabeth’s comment about being a protector was still replaying in his mind. “No. I have a—well, maybe not abetteridea, but one that might work. Come on.”
He grabbed the house keys.
“Where we going?” I asked.
“I need to ground myself,” he said. “Just for a few minutes.”
He led me across the street to Gramercy Park.
I wasn’t sure what Grover had in mind. Maybe he just needed a moment to focus his thoughts in a natural environment. Peaceful spots like that are tough to find in Manhattan.
I didn’t realize that when he’d saidground himself, he’d meant literally cover himself with the ground. He sat down in a flower bed and started to heap leaves and dirt over his legs.
“Um…you good there, G-man?”
He closed his eyes like he wanted to be at one with the bark mulch. “Yes,” he muttered, trancelike. “Preparing for squirrels. Need silence, please.”
That totally cleared things up.
I sat on the nearest bench and waited. If anyone walked past, I’d have had a hard time explaining why my friend was digging himself a fort, but we had the park to ourselves.
The morning air was cool and crisp. The leaves were turning from gold to red. Under other circumstances, I would’ve been happy to enjoy my “sick day” hanging out with my best friend, but last night’s trip was still making my stomach churn. I felt like I’d ingested some shadows along with a few lacy undergarments. My short visit to Hecate’s library hadn’t helped, either.
After a few minutes, Grover was almost completely buried up to the waist. I was getting worried. I wanted to say something likeCan I get you anything? More leaves? More dirt?
Then the squirrels began to arrive. Three scrambled down the nearest tree trunk and hopped onto Grover’s back. Another raced out of the bushes and leaped onto his shoulder. Two more tunneled through the leaves and skittered up Grover’s legs. Within a minute, there were dozens, maybe hundreds. Honestly, I had no idea. I’d never had to count squirrels in numbers that high before.
Grover’s torso disappeared under a tidal wave of chittering fur and twitching bushy tails. Somewhere in the mix of brown and gray, I spotted one very large black rat, who quickly disappeared in the sea of its squirrely comrades.
“Er, Grover…?”
One of the squirrels turned and barked at me like,Silence, human!
Apparently, the park’s vegetation wanted in on the fun. The nearest tree roots started snaking toward Grover. Vines wrapped around his chest. Tree branches bent and swayed, trying to reach him.
