Page 40 of Wrath of the Triple Goddess

I unclipped the leash and put down Nope. He sniffed the dirt, shook off a bra that had gotten wrapped around his back leg, then went exploring. I hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake, letting both hellhounds roam free, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

“This is where it happened,” I said to Hecuba. “Where you lost your children.”

She didn’t look at me, but her nostrils quivered. She licked her lips, swallowed, and made a deep rumbling sound in her chest.

I sat next to her. I remembered something about dogs feeling less threatened if you were lower than they were. I couldn’t imagine a hellhound of Hecuba’s size being threatened by me even if I stood on tiptoes, but I thought it might put her at ease if I looked vulnerable.

Also, Iwasvulnerable. I was so tired and shaken from all the shadow-travel, my choices were to either sit down or pass out.

Nope nosed around, weaving in and out of the bushes. He startled himself when he found a pink bra we’d dragged with us from the department store. He barked at it. Then, having shown the undergarment who was the boss, he continued his explorations.

“My mom is having a baby,” I told Hecuba.

I’m not sure why that bubbled up in my mind, but it got Hecuba’s attention. She turned toward me, her eyes bearing down like heat lamps.

“I grew up an only child,” I continued. “I was a lot of work for my mom. You know how it is. Demigods.”

Those hellhound eyes were giving me a sunburn.

“I can’t imagine how much courage it took for her to have another kid,” I said. “I’m worried for the baby. I mean, this kid won’t be a demigod, but still…I’ve seen how dangerous the world is. I’ve lost friends. One time I lost my mom—thought she was gone forever. That was the worst feeling in the world.”

I was rambling, but Hecuba hadn’t bitten my head off yet. I decided maybe that was progress.

“Every time I lose someone,” I said, “I get so angry…I want revenge. But then I remember what my friends would want. The same thing my mom wants for me—to be happy. To find people who matter and hang on to them for as long as I can.”

I picked up a smooth, round rock. For all I knew, it was a slingstone from the Trojan War.

“I can’t go back in time,” I said. “I can’t recover the people I’ve lost. So I have to concentrate on the family I’ve still got. Not just my mom and stepdad, or the new baby. But also Annabeth. Grover. All my friends at Camp Half-Blood.”

Nope padded up to Hecuba, sniffed her, and flopped down between her front paws.

Hecuba looked at the puppy, who was doing what puppies do best—radiating sweetness, sending out a message on all channels:I am adorable. Take care of me.

“You’ve got family, too,” I told Hecuba. “I know Hecate’s not perfect. It must get annoying the way she treats you like a pet. But I’ve also seen how she looks at you. You mean alotto her. And Gale—I think she’d be really sad without you. And now there’s Nope.…”

Hecuba sniffed the pup’s head. Her demeanor was still sad and grieving, but she seemed calmer—no longer interested in destroying Greek restaurants or rampaging through discos.

“I can only imagine what you went through when Troy fell,” I confessed. “But you can scare all the Greeks you want…It won’t heal the grief. It’s just chucking more wood into the fire. I think it’s better to find your pack and protect it.”

Hecuba growled.

“Okay,” I said. “Maybepackisn’t the right word. I don’t know why Hecate turned you into a hellhound. Gods are weird. I have a friend whose dad once turned her into a tree. Maybe Hecate saved you the only way she knew how. It’s not perfect, but it’s still love.”

Hecuba gazed at the ocean—a view she’d probably seen thousands of times when she was a mortal. She’d watched the Greek ships anchor off that coast, ready for war. She’d watched her children die in battle on that rocky beach before the walls of her doomed city.

Finally, she pressed her nose against the top of Nope’s head. She inhaled his scent like she was committing it to memory, making it a part of her. Then she looked at me and tilted her head.

“Ready to go home to New York?” I asked. “You’d make a lot of people happy. And selfishly, I’d appreciate Hecate not killing me because I lost you.”

She put her paw on the leash.

“That’s fair,” I said. “No leash. When Hecate gets back, I’ll try to convince her to give you more freedom. We won’t mention the whole terrorizing-Astoria thing.”

Hecuba grunted. Maybe she was agreeing with me. Or maybe she was just sayingThey deserved it.

I managed to get to my feet. I gathered up the sleepy puppy. Hecate knelt and allowed me to climb onto her back.

“Let’s go home,” I said.

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