Meg - Burst of Yams And Gooseberries

“Apollo, cover me.” Meg thrust one of her swords into my hand, then rifled through her gardening belt, glancing nervously at the strixes as they ascended.
How Meg expected me to cover her, I wasn’t sure. I was garbage at swordplay, even when I wasn’t duct-taped to a satyr’s back and facing targets that would curse anyone who killed them.
“Grover!” Meg yelled. “Can we figure out what type of plant an arbutus is?”
She ripped open a random packet and tossed seeds into the void. They burst like heated popcorn kernels and formed grenade-size yams with leafy green stems. They fell among the flock of strixes, hitting a few and causing startled squawking, but the birds kept coming.
“Those are tubers,” Grover wheezed. “I think an arbutus is a fruit plant.”
Meg ripped open a second seed packet. She showered the strixes with an explosion of bushes dotted with green fruits. The birds simply veered around them.
“Grapes?” Grover asked.
“Gooseberries,” said Meg.
“Are you sure?” Grover asked. “The shape of the leaves—”
“Grover!” I snapped. “Let’s restrict ourselves to military botany. What’s a—? DUCK!”

***

The Burning Maze, Chapter 3