Death and Madness 2

Grover plays 'Smells like teen spirit' to open the door to hell

We emerged in Central Park just north of the Pond. Mrs. O'Leary looked pretty tired as she limped over to a cluster of boulders. She started sniffing around, and I was afraid she might mark her territory, but Nico said, "It's okay. She just smells the way home."

Percy frowned. "Through the rocks?"

"The Underworld has two major entrances," Nico said. "You know the one in L.A."

"Charon's ferry." I remembered, cringing a little at my pathetic lie last year. 

Nico nodded. "Most souls go that way, but there's a smaller path, harder to find. The Door of Orpheus."

"The dude with the harp." Percy snapped his fingers.

"Dude with the lyre," Nico corrected. "But yeah, him. He used his music to charm the earth and open a new path into the Underworld. He sang his way right into Hades's palace and almost got away with his wife's soul."

I remembered the story. Orpheus wasn't supposed to look behind him when he was leading his wife back to the world, but of course he did. It was one of those typical "and-so-they-died-the-end" stories that always made us feel warm and fuzzy.

"So this is the Door of Orpheus." I tried to be impressed, but it still looked like a pile of rocks to me. "How does it open?"

"We need music," Nico said. "How's your singing?" He looked at Percy and me.

"Um, no. Can't you just, like, tell it to open? You're the son of Hades and all."

"It's not so easy. We need music."

I was pretty sure if I tried to sing, all I would cause was an avalanche.

"I have a better idea." Percy turned and called, "GROVER!"

We waited for a long time. Mrs. O'Leary curled up and took a nap. I could hear the crickets in the woods and an owl hooting. Traffic hummed along Central Park West. Horse hooves clopped down a nearby path, maybe a mounted police patrol.

"It's no good," Nico said at last.

Percy closed his eyes in concentration, almost like he was yelling in his mind. 

For a long time, Nico and I exchanged looks, not sure what to do. Ultimately, Percy jerked and almost fell over, thankfully Nico and I were able to stop him. 

"What happened?" I asked.

"I got through. He's . . . yeah. He's on his way."

A minute later, the tree next to us shivered. Grover fell out of the branches, right on his head.

"Grover!" Percy yelled.

"Woof!" Mrs. O'Leary looked up, probably wondering if we were going to play fetch with the satyr.

"Blah-haa-haa!" Grover bleated.

"You okay, man?"

"Oh, I'm fine." He rubbed his head. His horns had grown so much they poked an inch above his curly hair. "I was at the other end of the park. The dryads had this great idea of passing me through the trees to get me here. They don't understand height very well."

He grinned and got to his feet—well, his hooves, actually. Since last summer, Grover had stopped trying to disguise himself as human. He never wore a cap or fake feet anymore. He didn't even wear jeans, since he had furry goat legs from the waist down. His T-shirt had a picture from that book Where the Wild Things Are. It was covered with dirt and tree sap. His goatee looked fuller, almost manly (or goatly?), and he was as tall as Percy now which made me even more insecure.