𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 || 𝗝. 𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗘

1.4

CHIRON ORDERED—well, invited, but it sounded like an order—for them to come inside the house. He told Drew to go back to her cabin, which Drew didn't look happy about.

She sent Irene one last side-eye, before trotting off into the trees.

She's even irritating when she walks, Irene thought.

The centaur trotted over to the empty wheelchair on the porch. He slipped off his quiver and bow and backed up to the chair, which opened like a
magician's box. Chiron gingerly stepped into it with his back legs and began scrunching himself into a space that should've been much too small—as the centaur's lower half disappeared and the chair folded up, popping out a set of fake human legs covered in a blanket, so Chiron appeared to be a regular mortal guy in a wheelchair.

"Follow me," he ordered. "We have lemonade."

The living room looked like it had been swallowed by a rainforest. Grapevines curved up the walls and across the ceiling, which Irene found a little
strange. She didn't think plants grew like that inside, especially in the winter, but these were leafy green and bursting with bunches of red grapes, but it was pretty—in a way, it was unique.

Leather couches faced a stone fireplace with a crackling fire. Wedged in one corner, an old-style Pac-Man arcade game beeped and blinked.

But the weirdest thing was the stuffed leopard's head above the fireplace. It looked so real, its eyes seemed to follow only Jason. Then it snarled, and Jason jumped back so quickly that he almost knocked over the table behind them.

"Now, Seymour," Chiron chided. "Jason is a friend. Behave yourself."

"That thing is alive!" Jason said.

Irene snorted.

Chiron rummaged through the side pocket of his wheelchair and brought out a package of Snausages. He threw one to the leopard, who snapped it
up and licked his lips.

"You must excuse the décor," Chiron said. "All this was a parting gift from our old director before he was recalled to Mount Olympus. He thought it
would help us to remember him. Mr. D has a strange sense of humor."

"Mr. D," Jason said. "Dionysus?"

"Mmm hmm." Chiron poured lemonade, though his hands were trembling a little. "As for Seymour, well, Mr. D liberated him from a Long Island garage sale. The leopard is Mr. D's sacred animal, you see, and Mr. D was appalled that someone would stuff such a noble creature. He decided to grant it life, on the assumption that life as a mounted head was better than no life at all. I must say it's a kinder fate than Seymour's previous owner got."

"It probably just needs a friend. You should go pet it, Jason." She commented lightly and Jason sent her a bewildered look.

"No way," He said. "That thing looks like it eats puppies for breakfast."

"What? It does?" Irene studied the Seymour more carefully.

Seymour bared his fangs and sniffed the air as if hunting for more Snausages.

"If he's only a head," Jason said, "Where does the food go when he eats?"

"Better not to ask," Chiron said. "Please, sit."