Wrath of the Triple Goddess

by Rick Riordan

Also, I’d missed my entire junior year thanks to some business we won’t get into (Hera) on account of some meddling gods (Hera) for reasons of a cosmic apocalypse (Hera).

Her onyx eyes glittered. She sat forward and laced her fingers, looking more like a principal than my real principal ever did. “You may call me the Torch Bearer, the Star Walker, the Night Wanderer, the Disturber of the Dead, the daughter of Perses and Asteria, the Triple Goddess!”

A few ancient Greek cuss words floated through my mind.

I’m not sure if you’ve ever had this experience—when you see someone you know from a distance, and for a split second you don’t recognize them. Your brain just registers, Oh, that person looks amazing. Then you realize it’s someone you’ve known for years—your girlfriend, in fact—and that sends a tingle of happiness through your whole body.

She waved away my concerns. “We won’t fail. Look, if I can play fetch with Cerberus, I can take care of a hellhound and a polecat.”

Then I reminded myself that Mrs. O’Leary was an exception among hellhounds. Most of them tolerated demigods only as appetizers.

Inside, a black marble foyer opened into a great room that reminded me of a medieval church. Not that I’d ever been in a medieval church, but I saw Spamalot once, so I felt like an expert.

It yawned, stretched, and then farted with a sound like air being pinched from a balloon.

“I don’t limit access to books, Percy Jackson. I’m not a monster.

The harness was black leather with stainless steel spikes. Because Gale was metal.

Annabeth often told me I would make a great dad, because I already had the right jokes—stupid, corny, and stupid.

On cue, Annabeth and I got on either side of him, wrapped him in a hug, and kissed him on either cheek with a big Mmm-whah!

This one was Celestial bronze and engraved with LEO+PERCY 4EVER ♥, because Leo is a doofus.

I would have jumped out of my pants if I’d been wearing any. Where my girlfriend’s face had been a second before, two huge black eyes stared out over a hooked golden beak. Her head had turned into a heart-shaped expanse of white plumage, rimmed with speckled brown feathers. From the neck up, my Wise Girl was a barn owl.

Which means I need to talk to SEJ. Sally Estelle Jackson.”

File that statement under Top Ten Times Percy Was Wrong.

I charged into battle, followed by Grover, two hellhounds, and an angry polecat.