Page 24 of Wrath of the Triple Goddess

She was wagging her tail, which seemed weird. Given how she’d behaved when she first caught Hecuba’s smell, I doubted Mrs. O’Leary would act so happy if she’d really found her. Also, the trash pile she was sniffing wasn’t nearly big enough to hide a grown hellhound.

I tried to think positive. “What you got there, girl?”

I inched closer. Maybe she’d gotten sidetracked after all by some lusciously scented food waste. She did love Trader Joe’s pumpkin dog treats—probably because they weren’t available in the Camp Jupiter mess hall, and Hades hadn’t opened a Trader Joe’s in the Underworld (yet).

I reached down to move some fruit crates. From somewhere inside the pile, a small voice yelped, “NOPE!”

I stumbled backward into a crate of rotten bananas.

Mrs. O’Leary didn’t look worried, though. Whatever she was smelling, she was curious about it, and excited.

The thing in the pile yapped again—“NOPE!”—and I realized how small it sounded, how afraid.…

My heart twisted in a knot. I had a sudden overpowering urge to help the nope-yapper. I started clearing away boxes and bags. Mrs. O’Leary guided me, nosing through the trash until we unearthed the source of the yapping.

It was a puppy. A hellhound puppy.

His black fur was matted with gunk. Flies buzzed around his cherry-red eyes. His ears were back, and he trembled with fear. A nasty-looking cut zigzagged across his back, like he’d been attacked by something with claws.

I don’t cry a lot, but I have to tell you, my eyes watered pretty bad.

“Hey, there,” I said as softly as I could. “Hey, buddy. We’re not going to hurt you.”

I crouched so I wouldn’t look so big, which I guess was kind of pointless since Mrs. O’Leary loomed right next to me. “It’s going to be okay.”

I hoped my tone would be soothing, but I was choking up so bad, I could barely talk. I remembered the stories Tyson had told me about how young Cyclopes grew up on the streets, getting harassed by monsters, hiding in alleys, feeling lonely and afraid all the time. I didn’t know if it was the same for hellpuppies, or how this little guy had ended up here. I just knew I had to rescue him.

Mrs. O’Leary must’ve had the same instinct. As soon as she’d picked up his scent, the whole hunting-Hecuba mission had gone out the window. I didn’t blame her a bit.

I rummaged through my bag and pulled out one of Hecuba’s treats. I offered it to the puppy, but he flinched when I extended my hand.

I broke the treat in half. I put one part on the ground and gave the other to Mrs. O’Leary, just to show the puppy that it was safe to eat.

Mrs. O’Leary seemed to understand the situation. She lay down so as not to look threatening.

After a few minutes of me just talking calmly and staying put, the puppy inched forward. He sniffed the treat, then wolfed it down.

Then he looked at me with those big red eyes like,More?

We sat there for a long time, until the pup was comfortable enough to eat out of my hand. The poor thing had fleas and ticks, and the hair around his eyes had been eaten by mites, so he had a pale mask, kind of like a reverse polecat. He smelled pretty bad, too, but underneath the stench of garbage and urine I could still catch a whiff of “new puppy.” He couldn’t have been more than six weeks old.

“You want another treat?” I asked him.

“Nope!” he barked, which apparently meantYes, please, I’ll take the whole bag.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Is that your name? Nope?”

He tilted his head, maybe thinking about it. “Nope!”

“Okay, then that’s what I’ll call you.”

He crawled right into my lap. He was heavy—like fifty pounds—and floppy, with ridiculously oversize paws that told me he was going to be a rhino-size hellhound someday. I scratched behind his ears and kept feeding him treats, letting him get used to the sound of my voice.

Meanwhile, Mrs. O’Leary’s eyes were starting to droop. Shadow-traveling took a lot of energy. Hunting down puppies? Also hard work. Now, lying here calmly and hearing my soothing voice, my OG dog was starting to feel the snooze.

“It’s okay, girl,” I told her. “You did great. Get some rest.”

Mrs. O’Leary grunted. She hauled up her massive body and circled around, making a nest in the flattened cardboard boxes. As soon as she lay down, she dissolved into shadows, leaving nothing but a hellhound-shaped depression.

---