Deadly Waters | Percy Jackson

4. Farmyard Fun

Percy, his mother and Grover tore through the night along dark country roads, wind slamming against the Camaro, rain lashing the wind-shield. The boy didn't know how his mum could see anything, but she kept her foot on the gas.

Every time there was a flash of lightning, Percy looked at Grover sitting next to him in the backseat and he wondered if he'd gone insane, or if his friend was wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants. But, no, the smell was one he remembered from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo- lanolin, like from wool.

The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

All he could think to say was, "So, you and my mum . . . know each other?"

Graver's eyes flitted to the rearview mirror, though there were no cars behind us. "Not exactly," he said. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily. "I am your friend."

"Urn . . . what are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now."

"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey-"

Grover let out a sharp, throaty "Blaa-ha-ha!"

Percy had heard him make that sound before, but he'd always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now he realised it was more of an irritated bleat.

"Goat!" the other boy cried.

"What?"

"I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter."

"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you under hoof for such an insult!"

"Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like . . . Mr. Brunner's myths?"

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"

"So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!"

"Of course."

"Then why-"

"The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover said, like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You started to realise who you are." He then mutter to himself; "It didn't help that Pez was encouraging you."

"Who I- wait a minute, what do you mean?"

The weird bellowing noise rose up again somewhere behind them, closer than before. Whatever was chasing them was still on their trail.

"Percy," his mum said, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what? Who's after me?"

"Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Grover!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

Percy tried to wrap his mind around what was happening, but he couldn't do it. He knew this wasn't a dream. Pez was the one with the vivid imagination, not him. He could never dream up something this weird.