"The Garden of Stone Shadows – Part 2"
"Hello, sorry to bother you," Percy began calmly. "We got separated from our tour group from… the circus. We went into the woods to collect firewood, but it seems we took a wrong turn and ended up lost for hours. Could you sell us some food and maybe a flashlight to light the way? We'd like to find our group before they leave without us."
The smell of fried food wafting from inside the shop was so strong it almost made him forget the lie he had just improvised.
He could feel Annabeth's burning glare on his back, clearly furious with his "creative" story, but Percy knew it was best to grab something quickly and leave. After all, the three Furies he had fought could return at any moment… or at least one of them.
He was sure the first two were trapped inside the gems he'd found. Earlier, when he'd looked at them, he had noticed a faint dark aura glowing around each one. The third, however, was different. He had killed that one with Anaklusmos.
And if Mrs. Dodds had come back so quickly… who was to say that one wouldn't as well?
"Oh yes, of course," said the woman quickly, her tone kind. "We can't let you stay like that. Still, it's dangerous to be out this late. Perhaps it would be better if you looked for your group tomorrow."
"No," said Percy, shaking his head. "They'd leave us behind without hesitation if we wait. Just a little food and some light will be enough."
"All right, all right. Come in; I'll help you," said the woman, stepping aside to let them enter.
Percy frowned again. There was something unsettling about how eager she was to get them inside. He wasn't the only one who felt it—Annabeth noticed it too.
Even so, the three of them stepped through the doorway, planning to leave as soon as possible. The smell of food grew stronger, almost intoxicating. But Percy and Annabeth, their stomachs still full from the meat they'd eaten earlier, weren't tempted. That meat had left them completely satiated and brimming with energy.
Grover, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. With an empty stomach and nerves still on edge from the garden full of statues, he swallowed hard as he looked at the plates of food laid out on the table.
"Go ahead, you can eat all you want. No need for money. It's my treat," said the woman kindly as she closed the door and locked it. Then she turned and walked back toward the kitchen to continue cooking.
When Percy saw the door being locked, his unease sharpened into full alert. Maybe he wasn't as paranoid as he thought. That instinct he was learning to trust—a mix of survival sense and divine warning—wasn't something to ignore.
Grover, oblivious to the danger, approached the table, grabbed some fries, and began eating happily.
Percy looked at Annabeth. She met his gaze with the same tense expression, sharing the same thought: something here isn't right.
"Go on, you two as well… eat, eat," the woman insisted sweetly, inviting them with a smile invisible beneath her veil.
They glanced at each other, then approached the table, pretending to take food and place it on their plates.
Percy picked up a hamburger, lifted the bun slightly, and sniffed.
The smell was like any triple cheeseburger: greasy meat, lightly melted cheese, slices of pickles… but there was another scent, something strange he couldn't quite identify, though it felt disturbingly familiar.
Flashback.
Percy lay on the ground, exhausted after hauling a chest full of gold. Sweat ran down his face, and his clothes were covered in dirt.
A few feet away, Miraak watched him indifferently before returning to his task: cooking something in a massive pot, one that Percy suspected had been "borrowed" from the camp's dining hall when no one was looking. Then again, if Miraak didn't want to be seen, no one would see him—even if he were standing right in front of them.
"What are you cooking, Master?" Percy asked with mild curiosity, taking the chance to lie back and let his eyelids droop. He could have fallen asleep right there, his whole body aching.
"Poison," replied Miraak with complete calm.
Percy's eyes shot open, and he jumped up, powered purely by fear and will.
"You're not planning to poison me if I fail training, right?" he said, hiding behind a nearby tree.
Miraak looked at him as if he were an idiot. He seemed about to say no… but then stopped, as if considering it.
"Now that you mention it, that might not be a bad idea. It could improve your resistance to toxins," he said thoughtfully. "Sometimes it seems your brain actually works."
"What?" Percy managed to say, realizing he had just caused his own doom.
"I'll add a little to your food from now on. Don't worry, it won't kill you. Though you might want to build a bathroom nearby," Miraak added calmly as he tossed more ingredients into the pot—strangely colored plants, the head of a snake, and what looked like a glowing toad.
End of the memory.
Percy returned to the present and looked at the hamburger suspiciously. Then he glanced at Annabeth and quickly shook his head, silently warning her not to take a single bite.
Then he turned to Grover… and froze. The satyr had even stuffed the wax paper into his mouth, chewing enthusiastically.
The woman came back with more dishes, setting them down on the table before fixing her gaze on Annabeth.
"What's wrong, Annabeth? Don't you like my cooking?" she asked sweetly, though something in her voice sounded… off.
"A-ah, no. I… ate a lot earlier. My stomach's full," replied Annabeth, nervous.
Percy immediately noticed the most disturbing detail: they had never introduced themselves. How did she know Annabeth's name?
He didn't let his expression reveal anything.
"Oh, I see. What a pity. I spent so much time cooking—it would be such a waste to throw it all away," said the woman, appealing to Annabeth's manners, as if trying to pressure her into eating.
"Ah… I'm sorry. We could pay you for the food. Maybe we could take it to our friends from… the circus, if you don't mind," said Annabeth, trying to buy time and already thinking of dumping it as soon as they left.
The woman stood in front of her, staring silently. Annabeth swallowed hard, forcing herself to hold eye contact.
"I see. I suppose there's nothing to be done," the woman said at last, calm again. Then she changed the subject smoothly. "Still… your gray eyes are truly beautiful."
"Th-thank you," Annabeth replied, confused.
"I'll prepare a bag for you to take the food with you," said the woman before turning and disappearing toward the back of the shop.
As soon as she was gone, Percy stood up and gave Grover a light smack on the head.
"Eh… what's wrong, Percy?" mumbled Grover, half-asleep.
"Fuu… it's not poison. Looks like it's a sleeping agent," Percy muttered, noticing his friend's glazed expression. Still, his face showed growing concern.
"We have to go," said Annabeth urgently.
They walked toward the door, but it was locked—and, of course, the key was nowhere to be found. The windows, too, were covered with iron bars from the outside.
Only then did they realize they were trapped.
Percy noticed a half-open door at the back; it seemed to lead to the basement.
"Follow me," he ordered seriously, while he and Annabeth supported Grover, who was barely staying conscious. Annabeth gave him a light slap on the back to keep him awake.
They descended the stairs, and what they found below left them frozen.
Hundreds of stone statues filled the room. Some bore expressions of terror, others were broken, and many more depicted petrified Greek monsters and animals.
"This…" murmured Annabeth, her eyes widening in a mix of fear and realization. "Medusa."
Percy looked at her seriously just as Grover, upon hearing the name, snapped fully awake, the sleeping effect completely gone.
"M-m-m-Medusa?" he stammered, trembling. He immediately remembered the statue in the garden—the one that looked so much like his Uncle Ferdinand.
Before they could say anything, they heard footsteps and the creak of the basement door opening.
"Hide behind the crates!" whispered Percy.
They ran quickly and ducked out of sight. From his hiding spot, Percy could see several boxes marked with shipping labels. One of them, right in front of him, read:
To: DOA Recording Studios
Location: West Hollywood, Los Angeles, California.
It seemed Medusa shipped her "statues" all across the country… and had plenty of clients.
"Where are my children? I packed your food for you," came the woman's soft voice.
Then a faint hissing sound filled the air, multiplying. Snakes. Dozens of them.
A shadow stretched across the wall as the figure stepped in front of the light. Her hair moved on its own, alive and writhing.
The woman walked slowly… heading straight toward where Grover was hiding.