NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

forty: the store.

AS THEY GOT closer to the store, Brooklyn worried that it might burst into rainbow light and vaporize them, but the building stayed dark. The snakes Polybotes had dropped seemed to have vanished.

They were twenty yards from the porch when something hissed in the grass behind them.

"Go!" Frank yelled.

Percy stumbled. While Brooklyn and Hazel helped him up, Frank turned and nocked an arrow.

Brooklyn heard a flame scorching and a WOO!, but she didn't look back, instead hauling Percy to the store, dragging him up the steps. At least Hazel was helping, even though Brooklyn didn't need it. Well, he probably would've faceplanted on the stairs had Hazel not been there.

When they made it up the steps, Brooklyn finally looked back, and her breath stopped.

Frank was studying a lime-colored snake as short and thick as his arm. Its head was ringed with a mane of spiky white fins. Its eyes were large, yellow, and unblinking. The grass behind it was dead.

The snake hissed, flames billowing from its mouth.

"Nice creepy reptile," Frank said placatingly. "Nice poisonous, fire-breathing reptile."

"Frank!" Hazel yelled next to Brooklyn, making her flinch. "Come on!"

The snake sprang at him. Frank swung his bow and smacked the monster down the hill. It spun out of sight, wailing, "Screeeee!"

Frank's bow was steaming where it had touched the snake. He watched in disbelief as the wood crumbled to dust.

Brooklyn heard an outraged hiss, answered by two more hisses farther downhill.

Frank dropped his disintegrating bow and ran for the porch. She and Hazel pulled him up the steps. She saw all three monsters circling in the grass, breathing fire and turning the hillside brown with their poisonous touch. They didn't seem able or willing to come closer to the store, thank the gods.

"We'll never get out of here," Frank said miserably.

"Then we'd better go in." Hazel pointed to the hand-painted sign over the door that Brooklyn couldn't read due to the darkness. Totally not the dyslexia.

Brooklyn went inside anyway, supporting Percy next to her as she heightened her senses to be on full alert.

As they stepped through the door, lights came on. Flute music started up like they'd walked onto a stage. The wide aisles were lined with bins of nuts and dried fruit, baskets of apples, and clothing racks with tie-dyed shirts and gauzy Tinkerbell type dresses. The ceiling was covered in wind chimes. Along the walls, glass cases displayed crystal balls, geodes, macramé dream catchers, and a bunch of other strange shit. Incense must have been burning somewhere. It smelled like a bouquet of flowers was on fire.

"Fortune-teller's shop?" Frank wondered.

"Hope not," Hazel muttered.

Percy leaned against Brooklyn. He looked worse than ever, like he'd been hit with a sudden flu. His face glistened with sweat. "Sit down . . ." he muttered. "Maybe water."

"Yeah," Brooklyn said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Let's find you a place to rest."

The floorboards creaked under their feet. Frank navigated between two Neptune statue fountains.

A girl popped up from behind the granola bins. "Help you?"

Frank lurched backward, knocking over one of the fountains. A stone Neptune crashed to the floor. The sea god's head rolled off and water spewed out of his neck, spraying a rack of tie-dyed man satchels.