Ethereal

Chapter VII

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

Instead, Grover and Percy were elected to carry her. I didn't figure that was because they are the most popular. I decided to go with them for the free entertainment

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

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

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

"I can't tell," Grover admitted.

They hauled her up and set her on her tripod stool, both of them huffing and sweating. Who knew a mummy could weigh so much?

I assumed she wouldn't talk to us, 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 our sake, but I still felt down. The whole camp would be mad at Percy for losing the game to the Hunters, 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 us. 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?" Percy 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 felt kind of selfish because I'd forgotten about Grover's life ambition. The nature god had gone missing two thousand years ago. He was rumoured 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 to. My optimism had pretty much been trampled into the snow out there in the woods, along with our capture-the-flag hopes.

Before I could respond, Thalia tromped up the stairs. She was officially not talking to Percy now, but she looked at Grover and me and said, "Tell Percy to get his butt downstairs."

"Why?" Percy asked.

"Did he say something?" Thalia asked me.

"Um, he asked why."

"Dionysus is calling a council of cabin leaders to discuss the prophecy," she said.

"Unfortunately, that includes Percy."

The council was held around a Ping-Pong table in the rec room. Dionysus waved his hand and supplied snacks: Cheez Whiz, crackers, and several bottles of red wine. Then Chiron reminded him that wine was against his restrictions and most of us were underage. Mr D sighed. With a snap of his fingers, the wine turned to Diet Coke. Nobody drank that either.