Whimsical Mortality - SEQUEL OF THICKENING SHADOWS

Chapter 9

Grover was worried. Well, he was usually worried about one thing or another, but now he was right down concerned. His nose was twitching madly and his pupils growing large and small as he took in the smell. A smell had been following them, one as fresh as a winter breeze, but that wasn't what concerned him, it was another smell that had turned up less than five minutes ago. It reeked of death and dirt and it made the satyr shudder. It smelt like Nico.

The satyr rubbed his nose furiously. He knew the smell of the young deceased demigod well, he had after all been the one to track down him and his sister, but he hadn't smelt it this strong in years. His nose was itching just at the smell of it. Sure, occasionally he would catch a whiff from the Hades cabin or even Percy who seemed to always have that slight smell about him, but now it was so strong he could've sworn that the son of Hades was somewhere in the train terminal with him.

He cast he gaze over to his three companions who sat a small café. They were talking away happily, oblivious to Grover's discomfort. Grover himself had offered to get the tickets, despite the fact he was using his crutches and fake feet, he just wanted to get away from the smell. For a moment he focused on Jack; the strange son of Hermes with ice powers. He smelt odd as well. He smelt like the Hunters....he had the smell of moon about him.

"Next," came a monotone voice.

Grover spent ten minutes buying connecting train tickets to the mountains. They had a lot of travel ahead of them. He thanked the lady before tucking the tickets away and using his crutches to fake limp over to where his friends sat.

"So, what did the others say?"

Grover paused for a moment as he heard Percy speak. He was still some distance away, but his sharp ears were picking up what his friend was saying. Surprisingly, no on responded for about a minute until Thalia said;

"That makes sense,"

Where they on a phone? No, stupid question. Shaking his head he reached the table and everyone instantly froze. He pretended not to notice as he pulled out the tickets and sat down.

"We have a lot of travel," Grover commented as he straightened his Rasta hat.

"Fantastic. I love travelling," Jack commented happily with a trademark Hermes smirk.

Setting his crutches down, Grover breathed in deeply and nearly gagged, ending up looking like he had swallowed his own spit. Thalia hurriedly hit her friend on the back, mistaking it for choking. Grover had adapted to the strong smell of the three demigods, but now the stench of death was so strong he found it hard to handle. When Pan had named him Lord of the wild, his sense had improved even more, and now he found it more of a curse.

"What is it?" Percy asked concerned.

"Something smells like...." Grover didn't want to say the name so instead he said, "death."

Jack stifled laughter while Percy and Thalia exchanged looks.

"What aren't you telling me?" Grover's nose was beginning adapt to the smell.

"That smell..." Jack ruffled his oddly coloured hair, "that's Nico."