𐌙/𐌍 Ᏽ𐌵𐌀𐌋𐌄 & 𐌕𐋅𐌄 Ᏽ𐌐𐌄𐌀𐌕 𐌌𐌙𐌕𐋅𐌔 ¹

Chapter 7

Seven
𖧷

The Pigeon Doesn't Hate Me, But Everyone Else Does

  The least the Oracle could've done was walk back to the attic by herself.

  Instead, Grover and I were elected to carry her. I didn't figure that was because we were the most popular.

  "Watch her head!" Grover warned as we went up the stairs. But it was too late.

  Bonk! I whacked her mummified face against the trapdoor frame and dust flew.

  "Ah, man." I set her down and checked for damage. "Did I break anything?"

  "I can't tell," Grover admitted.

  We hauled her up and set her on her tripod stool, both of us huffing and sweating. Who knew a mummy could weigh so much? Even with a supernatural strength, that thing weighted like it had fucking bricks inside it.

  I assumed she wouldn't talk to me, and I was right. I was relieved when we finally got out of there and slammed the attic door shut.

  "Well," Grover said, "that was gross."

  I knew he was trying to keep things light for my sake, but I still felt really down. The whole camp would be kind of weirded out from my outburst, because I was usually calm and collected, and then there was the new prophecy from the Oracle. It was like the spirit of Delphi had gone out of her way to exclude me. She'd ignored my question and walked half a mile to talk to Zoe. And she'd said nothing, not even a hint, about Annabeth.

  "What will Chiron do?" I asked Grover.

  "I wish I knew." He looked wistfully out the second-floor window at the rolling hills covered in snow. "I want to be out there."

  "Searching for Annabeth?"

  He had a little trouble focusing on me. Then he blushed. "Oh, right. That too. Of course."

  "Why?" I asked. "What were you thinking?"

  He clopped his hooves uneasily. "Just something the manticore said, about the Great Stirring. I can't help but wonder… if all those ancient powers are waking up, maybe… maybe not all of them are evil."

  "You mean... Pan?" I asked.

  I felt kind of selfish, because I'd totally forgotten about Grover's life ambition. The nature god had gone missing two thousand years ago. He was rumored to have died, but the satyrs didn't believe that. They were determined to find him. They'd been searching in vain for centuries, and Grover was convinced he'd be the one to succeed. This year, with Chiron putting all the satyrs on emergency duty to find half-bloods, Grover hadn't been able to continue his search. It must've been driving him nuts.

  "I've let the trail go cold," he said. "I feel restless, like I'm missing something really important. He's out there somewhere. I can just feel it."

  I didn't know what to say. I wanted to encourage him, but I didn't know how. My
optimism had probably been scattered into the snow out there in the woods, along with my patience.

  Before I could respond, Thalia knocked on the wall to get our attention. She looked at me with a frown before she quietly asked. "Would you come downstairs, like, now?"