Page 90 of Wrath of the Triple Goddess

“Aha!” Hecate shouted, startling Gale out of the jack-o’-lantern. The goddess scooped up a plastic container from behind the couch—somebody’s empty soda bottle from the party. Judging from the orange residue in the bottom, I figured it was Connor Stoll’s. He had a thing for Sunkist Zero Sugar.

“What is this?” Hecate demanded. “Trash?”

Her silhouette blazed with purple fire. Nope whimpered and hid behind Hecuba. Grover yelped. “We can explain!”

The goddess laughed. The flames died. “I’m kidding.”

She grinned mischievously. “You had some friends over? I would expect nothing less to celebrate my holiest of nights. Don’t worry about it.” The bottle turned to ash in her fingers. “But seriously, plastic containers aren’t good for the earth. You should use Celestial bronze or ceramic.”

“Got it.” I calmed my nerves by imagining kicking Connor in the pants. “Could I—?”

“My pets look happy,” Hecate continued. “The manse is in good condition. You remembered to feed the eels?”

I had a flashback to Janet and the boys doing the macarena the night before. “Of course,” I said. “The eels are good. I—”

“Then I am pleased!” Hecate announced. “You have earned my recommendation letter.”

She wasn’t making it easy for me to get a word in. With a flourish of her wrist, a scroll appeared in her hand. “I spent a long time writing this. I think you will love it.” She handed me the parchment.

Even before I opened it, I was relieved. If Hecate had taken the time to write anything, it was already better than the letter I’d gotten from Ganymede. He’d given me a blank piece of paper that I had to fill in myself.

I opened the scroll. It was done in red ink, in cursive, which made it almost impossible for my dyslexic eyes to decipher. But I finally puzzled out:

To Whom It May Concern:

I recommend Percy Jackson for things.

Sincerely,

Hecate, the Goddess of Three Forms, Lady of Witchcraft, Queen of the Darkness, Keeper of Mysteries, Ultimate Power over Ghosts and Spirits, Almighty Sovereign of the Shadows

I could have argued that the signature was longer than the actual letter. Or thatthingscould’ve meant a death sentence, torture, extra homework.

Instead, I said, “Thank you, Lady Hecate. But before we leave—”

“Oh, yes, I know,” she assured me. “Never fear! I will definitely be calling you for pet-sitting services in the future. Now, if there’s nothing else…”

I glanced at Hecuba and Gale, who were staring at me like,Dude, you promised.Even Grover and Annabeth were waiting for my cue. I got the feeling they wouldn’t blame me if I bowed out gracefully.

Then it occurred to me that, whether Hecate knew it or not, she was offering me another crossroads—a temptation just as dangerous as the strawberry milkshake. It would be too easy to leave now with my recommendation letter. It would be a hundred percent safer. It would also be wrong.

“Thereissomething else,” I said.

Hecate frowned. “Oh?”

“Everything is fine now,” I said, “but the weekwasn’tfine. We owe you the truth.”

I told her the whole story—from the strawberry apocalypse, to finding Nope, to Hecuba’s shadow-world excursion, to Gale’s indentured servitude at the perfume shops, to our Halloween hijinks with Peter “Burn the Heretics” Stuyvesant.

While I spoke, Hecate remained absolutely still. When I finished, she glanced to either side as if she’d found herself standing at her own crossroads and, for once, had no idea where she was.

“That is”—she considered her words—“quite a story. I did not take you for a fool, Percy Jackson. Why would you confess this? Why should I not incinerate you?”

“You could,” I agreed. “But the truth is, we didn’t take care of Hecuba and Gale. They took care of us. Hecuba needs more freedom. She needs your trust. Gale, too. She should be allowed to practice alchemy in her own lab.”

Gale squeaked.

“Right,” I said. “With assistants. With opposable thumbs.”

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