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Ugh. Theschoolthing again. I wanted to argue that school wouldn’t mean much if we died for failing Hecate, but I knew better than to try. Annabeth took our graduation plans seriously. Death was no excuse. She was determined that we would finish high school together so we could go to California and do at least four more years of even harder school.

Who had designed this system, anyway? When do you get to chill on the beach and stop working? And don’t tell me sixty-seven unless you want to see a demigod cry.

I reminded myself to be positive. Halloween. Anything is possible. Et cetera.

“That sucks,” I said, but in a positive way.

Grover sighed. “I get it. You don’t want to leave me alone with the animals again.”

“What?” I said. “No, man. That was myI don’t like schoollook, not myI don’t trust Groverlook. I don’t evenhavethat look.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” He straightened. “But please, let me watch the house tomorrow. I won’t let you down again.”

Annabeth started to answer. Then she met my eyes, maybe realizing that Grover needed to hear it from me.

“Of course,” I told him. “We trust you. We trust the animals.” I wagged a finger at Gale. “Just whatever you cook up in the kitchen, no strawberry, okay?”

Gale held up her little paw and chittered. Probable translation:I solemnly swear—death before strawberries.

“That’s settled, then.” Annabeth smiled, though her eyes were still stormy. “Who knows? We can’t summon the dead until after dark anyway. Maybe we’ll come up with a better plan in the meantime.”

When I got back from brushing my teeth (not with cinnamon toothpaste—never again!), Grover and the animals were asleep and snoring in a big pile. I looked around for Annabeth. I was worried she might be buried under that mountain of cuddles. Then I noticed our makeshift front door was open.

I padded outside, past the three door knockers, still silent and safely wrapped in their cardboard box.

Annabeth stood on the sidewalk, leaning against the fence, staring back at the manse like…well, like an architect planning a job. I limped my way across the cranium-stone path and joined her at the gate. The facade of the mansion still looked terrible. More gray tombstone tiles had fallen off and broken in the front yard. More windows had shattered. I guess I hadn’t noticed because I’d been so busy chasing animals around Manhattan.

“It’s getting worse,” I said.

Annabeth nodded.

“How?”

She hesitated. “Today, at the perfume shop…when I had the”—she circled her hand over her face, the universal gesture forowl head—“I sensed things in a totally different way. That must have happened to you, too. Something passed between you and Gale. You learned something?”

I wasn’t sure how she’d guessed that, or what it had to do with the house falling down, but I told her everything she’d missed while she was at school, starting with Grover’s attempt to ground himself under an army of squirrels.

Annabeth shook her head. “I’m going to kill him…in a loving way.”

“He knows,” I said.

Then I told her about my tentacle-sucker mind meld with the ferret.

She fidgeted with her camp necklace. I hadn’t seen her do that in a long time. She turned one bead after another, as if reminding herself how many summers she had survived. Maybe it helped her believe she could survive one more day.

“Percy,” she said, “I don’t give you enough credit.”

I blinked. “I’m sorry—can I get that in writing? Maybe on a billboard?”

She laughed. “I’m serious. You’re good at understanding people, making them feel seen. And bypeople, I mean polecats and hellhounds, too.”

“Thanks. I think.”

She took my hand. “Back in Astoria, when the undead touched you…you saw Hecuba when she was grieving, the moment she turned into a hellhound, yeah?”

I nodded. I could still hear Hecuba’s anguished howls and feel the heavy Greek shackles around my ankles.

“Do you know what I saw?” Annabeth said. “I saw the city itself. Troy.” She tightened her grip on my fingers. “Your dad built those walls. Did you know that? The whole city was constructed with magic.”