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The purple flames flickered again around Hecate’s body. “You dare to make demands of me?”

Annabeth and Grover tensed. I got the feeling they were prepared to jump in front of me, to shield me from Hecate’s wrath. I couldn’t let it come to that.

Somehow, I held the goddess’s gaze. I didn’t even wet my pants. Because heroism.

“I’m trying to show you the best path,” I said. “Whether you take it…that’s up to you. But Grover drinking that strawberry potion and tearing up the manse—in a way, it’s the best thing that could’ve happened. I think, on some level, youmeantfor it to happen. We got the pets back, but now we understand what they need. We repaired the mansion, but its foundation has been cracking for over a century. Our architect, Annabeth, figured that out. You’ve got a ghost problem. Old regrets. Old grudges. We saw that last night when we met your son Pete.”

Hecate closed her eyes. Was that a tear tracing down the side of her nose?

“Peter was…not my best attempt at parenting.” Her expression hardened again. “But how dare you presume—”

“Just hear me out,” I pleaded. “We owed it to you to fix what we broke. But the manse is still broken. I know how you can repair it. To make it worthy of you”—I gestured at the pets—“and your family. Consider it a request, not a demand.”

Hecate’s flaming aura remained atsimmer. Her eyes seemed to drill into my soul, trying to figure out how I could be so brash as to talk to a goddess this way. It was not the first time a god had looked at me like that.

Finally, she barked out a brittle laugh.

“You have surprised me, Percy Jackson,” she said. “That does not happen often.”

She glanced at Nope, who was still hiding behind his dog mama, Hecuba.

“I suppose you have brought me a new family member,” the goddess conceded, “which means I owe you a boon in return. Speak, and I will decide whether it is something I can grant, or whether I must feed you all to my eels.”

I told Hecate my idea.

“You’re alive!” said Eudora when I walked into her office on Monday morning.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“No, I’m not—All right, yes, I’m surprised. How did you do it?”

I sat down next to Sicky Frog and told Eudora about our Halloween walking tour with the dead. Judging from the salt water that trickled down her hairdo, just hearing about it made Eudora feel anxious.

“That’s…terrifying.” She shook her head. “And the recommendation letter?”

I showed her the parchment. She spent a long time reading it, lovingly caressing the words until I started to wonder if she was looking for any sign that Hecate might have mentioned her.

Annabeth, Grover, and I had ended up spending the rest of the weekend at the manse. Partly because Hecate had wanted us to hang around so she could hear more details about our plan. And partly, I think, because she was holding us hostage in case she changed her mind about feeding us to the eels. Also, it gave her a couple extra days of complimentary pet-sitting. But we didn’t mind that. Walking Hecuba, Gale, and Nope had become something I actually looked forward to, as long as Hecuba didn’t drag me through the shadow-world into random department stores.

During our time with her, Hecatehadmentioned Eudora several times. I didn’t want to tell my counselor how many curse words had been sprinkled through those conversations until the goddess finally calmed down.

Eudora looked up and sighed contentedly. “That’s her writing, all right. Oh, Percy, what a triumph! This will look wonderful with your college application. And if New Rome doesn’t work out, this could get you into any number of excellent technical schools!”

“Um…New Rome will work out. I only need one more letter, right?”

“Of course.” She traced her fingers over the red cursive. I started to worry she might keep the document as a memento, so I figured I should break my other news.

“Also,” I said, “Hecate owed me a boon. And I collected.”

Eudora’s eyes widened behind her bottle-thick glasses. “A boon? Oh, my! What did you ask for? Can—can I see it? Is it a lock of her hair? An autographed photo?”

“Even better,” I said. “I convinced her to reopen her magic school.”

Eudora melted into water.

That’s not a metaphor. She actually dissolved into a large puddle all around her office chair. I stood, worried that I’d killed her. Did I need to dive in and save her? I wasn’t a registered lifeguard. My job was ocean, not saving Nereids from their own puddles.

“Hello?” I called. “Are you okay down there?”