Page 1 of Wrath of the Triple Goddess

October. Best month ever.

The air was crisp. The leaves were changing colors in Central Park. And my favorite food cart on 86th Street was serving pumpkin-spice burritos.

On top of all that, I’d had ZERO recent trouble from the mythological world. No gods had knocked on my door demanding that I run their errands. No monsters had tried to kill me.

For three blissful weeks, I’d been a normal senior in high school. And when you’re the demigod son of Poseidon, normalcy is a nice change of pace—even if it comes with a side of homework and weekend tutoring.

You may be wondering,Why would a powerful demigod in his last year of high school need trivial help like weekend tutoring?

Maybe you haven’t met me. For starters, I’m dyslexic with ADHD. Little things like reading and paying attention are tougher for me than, say, leaping out of a classroom window to fight a fire-breathing boar. Weirdly, teachers don’t grant extra credit for slaying monster pigs.

Also, I’d missed my entire junior year thanks to some business we won’t get into (Hera) on account of some meddling gods (Hera) for reasons of a cosmic apocalypse (Hera).

So there I was at Alternative High School, the only place that would let me complete a diploma in time to attend college with my girlfriend. In order to make up for all the credits I’d missed through no fault of my own (Hera), I had to take weekend courses.

On Saturdays, I had a dual-credit Spanish class with Dr. Hernandez at Borough of Manhattan Community College. Sundays, I took an online chemistry class. Monday mornings, when I really needed a break, I’d stumble into school with a throbbing headache and try to get through my regular classes without letting my brain leak out of my ears.

Every once in a while, my school counselor, Eudora, would step out of her office and give me a thumbs-up. “You’re doing great!”

But mostly she left me alone. She was secretly a Nereid, working for my father. I think I made her nervous. Either that or she was afraid to ask how my college recommendations were coming along. I’d done a quest for Ganymede and gotten a letter from him, but I still needed endorsements from two more Greek gods if I wanted to get into New Rome University. And they weren’t going to come for free, of course.

My application deadline was approaching, and things had been quiet.

Tooquiet. In fact, things were so quiet I fell asleep in English class and didn’t realize it until the teacher stood right over me and said, “Percy?”

I jolted awake. Luckily, I didn’t draw my sword.

“Theme!” I yelled, because that’s the question I’d been preparing to answer before I nodded off. “The theme is free will versus fate.”

Mrs. Foray frowned. The other students tried not to laugh.

“Your aunt is in the office.” Mrs. Foray handed me a note. “She’s come to pick you up.”

There were several problems with this. First, it made me look like a doofus—being picked up by a family member when I was perfectly capable of taking the subway. I even had my driver’s license, though driving in New York was way scarier than most quests I’d been on.

Second, if I left school early, it would mean makeup work and grumpy teachers.

Third, I didn’t have an aunt. At least, not on the human side of my family...

I mumbled an apology to Mrs. Foray, wiped drool off my cheek, and headed for the office. Something told me I’d still be able to use that answer about free will versus fate. It seemed to be the theme of my life.

When I passed the counselor’s office, Eudora stuck her head out, looking startled.

“Hi,” I said. “You know anything about—?”

“SHHH! I’m not here!” She closed her door.

That was a little weird, even for her. I wondered if Nereids were like groundhogs. Maybe if they saw their shadows when they poked their heads out of their dens, it meant six more weeks of hibernation.

When I got to the reception desk, the secretary was standing there frozen, staring at nothing. She pointed at the principal’s office and murmured, “They are waiting.”

Entranced secretary. Probably not a good sign.

I rapped my knuckles on the principal’s door. It creaked open. Inside, Dr. Samuels sat motionless at her desk, her eyes glassy. Next to her stood a middle-aged woman in a dark sleeveless gown. A chain of diamonds glittered around her neck. Her hair was a thicket of black tufts, wreathed in a halo of green fire.

Flaming hair. Definitely not a good sign.

“Ah, good,” said the woman in black. She glanced at the principal. “You may leave us now.”

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