• “Grover was sniffing the wind, looking nervous. He fished out his acorns and threw them into the sand, then played his pipes. They rearranged themselves in a pattern that made no sense to me, but Grover looked concerned.
    "That's us," he said. "Those five nuts right there."
    "Which one is me?" I asked.
    "The little deformed one," Zoe suggested.
    "Oh, shut up.”

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