Page 34 of Wrath of the Triple Goddess

Annabeth nodded. “We’ll bring her leash, lots of treats, and chew toys.”

“Nope!” said Nope.

“He means actual chew toys, not me,” Grover explained to him. “Though I’m going, too.”

“Nope!”

“And we’ll bring the puppy,” I said. “Maybe Hecuba will be feeling maternal.”

Nope must’ve understood. He wagged his tail with such excitement he peed in Annabeth’s lap.

She took it better than I would have. She just sighed and moved the dog to the floor. “Let me change my pants. Then we’ll head to Queens.”

“And if the treats don’t work?” Grover asked. “Or the chew toys or the pup?”

I tried to think of an optimistic answer. The three of us would be scouring New York for a hellhound we couldn’t fight and that we would have to convince to come home, and she would definitely smell us coming because we all reeked of hellpuppy pee.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. Then I said the words that would come back to haunt me in a not-so-fun, non-Halloween-ish way. “Alley Boy will have to figure something out.”

Things went downhill when we encountered Athena.

At first, we were having a nice evening walk through Astoria with our demonic puppy (though he definitely needed training on the leash). The storefronts were all decorated for Halloween. The trees were dropping their yellow leaves. Cooking smells from a dozen different restaurants scented the air.

Astoria may be a famously Greek neighborhood, but in New York that just means more tavernas than usual mixed in with the taquerias, ramen joints, and sushi bars. You never get just one kind of thing in this city. It’s always every flavor all the time. That’s why I love it.

I was feeling a little wistful about this as we walked. I wondered whether the Bay Area would ever feel as much like home…and if I would live long enough to find out.

Grover interrupted my reverie. “Over there. I smell something.”

“Nope!” the puppy agreed. He started straining on his new leash (well, his hand-me-down Hecuba leash) like he really wanted to cross the street.

On the north side of 30th Avenue was a tree-lined park. It wasn’t nearly as big as Gramercy Park—just a plaza with statues and benches, flanked on one side by a playground structure and the other side by a basketball court.

After my wrestling contest with a cranky god in Washington Square Park last month, I didn’t want to visit any more playgrounds. This time, I’d probably be forced to play a pickup game of HORSE with the god of lost dogs. I’d probably fail at that, too.

Annabeth slipped her hand into mine. “It’ll be okay. I know this place. Let’s go.”

In front of the park, a sign readATHENS SQUARE.

Nope didn’t care about that, but he thought the iron fence was really interesting. He sniffed all the pee messages from the other dogs, then lifted his leg and hit reply.

The plaza was dark and empty. Always a good sign when you’re looking for trouble. Greeting us near the entrance was a statue of the goddess of wisdom herself—Athena in her battle armor. She had one arm extended, palm up, as if demanding,Am I a joke to you?

“Hi, Mom,” Annabeth said. “Just looking for a hellhound.”

I waited for the statue to smack me upside the head, but it remained motionless. On Olympus, Athena probably found it more amusing to keep me in suspense.

Nope tugged harder on his leash, dragging me farther into the plaza. Once he was full-grown, he was going to be a lot of fun to walk, probably way too much for the meager powers of Alley Boy.

The central courtyard was tiled in gray and white diamond-shaped stones that made me feel dizzy looking at them. At the far end stood three Greek columns, very on-brand, and two statues of dudes in robes who I assumed (wild guess) were probably ancient Greeks. In front of the columns was a circular dais tiled like a compass rose. This was probably where the locals had events in the summertime, but to me, the whole place screamedhuman sacrifice.

I’d been offered up as a human sacrifice too many times in my life already. That wasn’t what I wanted to go trick-or-treating as this year.

Nope pulled me toward the dais. As we got closer, I saw a large dark stain splashed across the compass rose, like someone had tossed a bucketful of ink on it.

“Whoa, boy,” I said, tugging him back. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

Nope didn’t listen, and neither did Annabeth. She ran ahead to check out the stain of liquid evil.

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