Little Tricks (PJO x HP) DISCONTINUED

CHAPTER FOUR: My mother teaches me bullfighting

Chapter 4

MY MOTHER TEACHES
ME BULLFIGHTING

We tore through the night along dark country roads. Wind slammed against the Camaro. Rain lashed the
windshield. I didn't know how my mom could see anything, but she kept her foot on the gas.
Every time there was a flash of lightning, I looked at Grover sitting next to me in the backseat and I
wondered if I'd gone insane, or if he was wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants. But, no, the smell
was one I remembered from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo— lanolin, like from wool. The
smell of a wet barnyard animal.

"Thanks Perce." Grover said drily.

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

"Wait why did everyone laugh?" Percy asked in confusion, "You made it sound like something else Percy." Apollo grinned.

Ara choked slightly and James snickered, Regulus raised his eyebrows.
Grover'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."

Ara stared at Grover, "So you're a stalker with hooves." She said, "Cool."

Theodore leaned over and high-fives her, "You get it!" He grinned.

"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." "Um... what are you, exactly?"
"That doesn't matter right now."

"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, one of my best friends is a donkey—"

"Oh now you've done it." Thalia groaned.

Grover let out a sharp, throaty "Blaa-ha-ha!"
I'd heard him make that sound before, but I'd always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now I realized it
was more of an irritated bleat.

"How was it that hard to understand?" Annabeth asked Percy, who shrugged.

"Goat!" he cried.
"What?"
"I'm a goat from the waist down."
"You just said it didn't matter."

"My head hurts." Theodore groaned "This is so confusing!"

"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 realize who you are."

"Who I—wait a minute, what do you mean?"
The weird bellowing noise rose up again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever was
chasing us was still on our trail.
"Percy," my mom 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."

Ara glanced at Hades who was frowning, "Grover, you shouldn't say that about someone especially if you don't know them." Hades looked at her and smiled softly, he was thankful for people like Ara, the people who believed in everyone.

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

I tried to wrap my mind around what was happening, but I couldn't do it. I knew this wasn't a dream. I
had no imagination. I could never dream up something this weird.
My mom made a hard left. We swerved onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and
wooded hills and PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES signs on white picket fences.
"Where are we going?" I asked.