28 • I Make a Bad Plan

B ack at the manse, the hellhounds were just waking up.

Nope thought we smelled really interesting. I guessed that, to him, Grovers hooves smelled like feet, my arms smelled like seafood, and Annabeth smelled like shed been watching over two numbskulls all afternoon and had possibly turned into a bird.

Gale and Hecuba greeted each other with a nose boop. It wasnt exactly a tearful reunion, but I got the feeling they were glad to see each other. Their body language seemed to say, Yes, I am relieved youre back, now let us never speak of this again. Nope sniffed Gales butt and apparently confirmed that she smelled so bad she must be part of the family.

Gale danced around impatiently until Grover agreed to take her to the feeding room for a chicken carcass. I checked on the eels, who were disappointed we hadnt died and brought our own remains home for them to eatwhich didnt make sense, but eels have their own kind of logic.

Nobody else wanted lobster rolls, so we got pizza delivered instead. We sat in the great room with the animals and scarfed down three large pies, leaving nothing behind. Grover eyed the greasy boxes, but I suggested he not try eating them. I knew from experience his digestive track didnt do well with cardboard.

I leaned against one of the broken benches, an ice pack on my ankle. I was exhausted and wired at the same time. I wanted to enjoy the fact that wed retrieved both of Hecates pets. Wed even acquired a bonus puppy. That seemed like a pretty good weeks work. Unfortunately, the mansion was still a wreck. Despite our best efforts with shower curtains, dust pans, and duct tape, the place still looked like somebody had driven through in a monster truck and thrown a few hand grenades. It was hard to believe all the damage had been caused by one hulked-out satyr. Then again, now that Id experienced the joys of potion-based combat, I had a better sense of how wrong things could go.

Grover seemed to follow my thoughts. Tomorrow is Halloween. Theres no way three people can fix this mansion before Hecate gets back. Its hopeless, isnt it?

Hey, I said, Halloween is the opposite of hopeless. Anything is possible on Halloween.

Annabeth gave me a wistful look. I think she wanted to believe in the magic possibilities of Halloween, but the way things were going, she was doubting shed get that perfect party shed dreamed of. As for me, I meant what I said. I remembered the stories Mr. Brunner used to tell, back when I thought he was just a cool sixth-grade Latin teacher. He would talk about how ancient the traditions behind Halloween werehow almost every culture believed there was a time when the world of the living and the world of the dead came so close you could cross over.

The world of the dead

My gaze drifted to Hecates torches crossed over the doorway.

They should be used only in the event of an extreme emergency, Hecate had said.

Chiron had been clear that the torches were too dangerous. If we tried to use them, especially on Halloween, an army of angry ghosts might tear us apart. Hecate must have left the torches as a kind of temptation, like the strawberry-milkshake potion. Sure, the choice was ours. But Id seen Gales past now. I knew what kind of choices Hecate offered people who stood at a crossroads.

And yet

What if we could fix the house with magic? I asked.

Grover followed my gaze. Percy, no. You said the torches

I know. Last resort. Just spitballing here. I turned to Annabeth. What do you think?

Her expression was as distant as ancient Greece. She hesitated so long I got nervous. If I had a bad idea, she let me know right away. But when she hesitated like that, looking all seriouswell, Id seen that expression a lot when we were in Tartarus together. It usually meant she was thinking the same thing I wasbut with more nuance, and more understanding of all the horrible ways it could get us killed.

For the sake of argument, she said (which meant yeah, we were in serious trouble), lets say we tried. Hecuba, you know how to summon the dead. Is it possible we could use the torches successfully?

Hecuba barked once. I figured that meant Idiot!

She says no mortal has ever tried, Grover translated. She cant do it for us. Her undead are only good for terrorizing people. If you used the torches and lost focus even for an instant, or couldnt bend the spirits to your will, they would destroy everyone and everything in their path. Then they would devour your soul.

Once again, I was impressed how much a dog could pack into just one bark. Their novels would be, like, twenty woofs long.

What other options do we have? I turned toward the staircase. Hey, Gale! Come down here a sec, would you?

A few seconds later, the polecat scurried down the steps. She was covered with flecks of raw chicken. Nope thought this was the most amazing thing ever. He began giving Gale a bath.

The polecat tolerated it pretty well. While Nope was busy with chicken removal, I told Gale what was going on. Do you think you could brew anything that would help us? Like, give us magical building powers? Or at least shield us from the dead if we have to summon them?

Gale seemed to think about this. She stood on her hind legs so Nope could clean her belly, which was both cute and slightly disturbing. She chattered and barked at Grover.

Uma lot of what shes saying is really technical, he said, about herbs and reagents and distilling methods. She says there might be some recipes in the library. Itll take her all day tomorrow. And shell need my help.

We can all help, I offered.

Except we cant, Annabeth said. We both have tests at school tomorrow.

Ugh. The school thing again. I wanted to argue that school wouldnt 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 dont 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 dont want to leave me alone with the animals again.

What? I said. No, man. That was my I dont like school look, not my I dont trust Grover look. I dont even have that look.

I wouldnt blame you if you did. He straightened. But please, let me watch the house tomorrow. I wont 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 sweardeath before strawberries.

Thats settled, then. Annabeth smiled, though her eyes were still stormy. Who knows? We cant summon the dead until after dark anyway. Maybe well come up with a better plan in the meantime.

When I got back from brushing my teeth (not with cinnamon toothpastenever 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 likewell, 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 hadnt noticed because Id been so busy chasing animals around Manhattan.

Its getting worse, I said.

Annabeth nodded.

How?

She hesitated. Today, at the perfume shopwhen I had theshe circled her hand over her face, the universal gesture for owl 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 wasnt sure how shed guessed that, or what it had to do with the house falling down, but I told her everything shed missed while she was at school, starting with Grovers attempt to ground himself under an army of squirrels.

Annabeth shook her head. Im going to kill himin 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 hadnt 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 dont give you enough credit.

I blinked. Im sorrycan I get that in writing? Maybe on a billboard?

She laughed. Im serious. Youre good at understanding people, making them feel seen. And by people , I mean polecats and hellhounds, too.

Thanks. I think.

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

I nodded. I could still hear Hecubas 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.

Maybe Id heard that story before, but it still sounded strange to me. I couldnt imagine my dad as a bricklayer.

I saw the city collapsing, Annabeth continued. Hecuba was dragged out, her family was killedand the magic unraveled. Its like the citys reason for existing just stopped. I could feel every column cracking, every support beam collapsing. I wanted to save the city. All those homes, temples, palaces. But I couldnt. She gave me a despondent look. You saw the people; I saw the buildings. Why is that?

I didnt answer right away. The obvious thing to say was Because youre an architect-in-training! But I knew that wasnt what she needed to hear. Shed been sitting with this vision for a while now and it was clearly bothering her.

Maybe you saw what you needed to see, I ventured. A way to help Hecuba and us. You read people just fine, Wise Girl. Better than me. But architecture? Only one of us can do that.

As if on cue, another tombstone sloughed off the side of the manse, crashing into the garden.

I frowned. Were not going to come up with a better plan to fix this place, are we?

Annabeth shook her head. Well have to use the torches to summon the dead. Ill have to use the torches.

Hold on

She squeezed my hand. You said it yourself. Im the architect. But this place was built by ghosts. Thats the basis of Hecates power. Im going to need helpfrom someone ghostly, who knows about building in Manhattan.

I flashed back to the beginning of the week, when Annabeth and I had sat in her favorite cemetery near the School of Design. Youre not serious.

She didnt need to reply. She was dead serious. (Ouch, bad choice of words.)

Ill do some research tomorrow at school, she said. But yeahI think its my best shot.

I didnt like the way she said my best shot, like this was something I couldnt help with. I thought about her vision of Troy like the citys reason for existing just stopped . I looked at the black iron trellis draped around Hecates front porch like a huge mourning veil. I imagined I could hear the shriek of a frightened child, pedaling away down Gramercy Park West as fast as she could.

I think I took a deep breath. I think something has been wrong with this place since long before we got here.

I told Annabeth about the ghost Id been seeing, the display in the library from Hecates defunct school, and the collection of broken eyeglasses. What Could Have Been.

Annabeth isnt easy to surprise, but my words seemed to hit her like a spritz of Paralysis by Fancy Water.

Youre saying She didnt seem able to finish the thought.

Something went wrong over a century ago, I said. Something that made Hecate close her school. Ever since, this place has been losing its reason to exist. I think Grovers strawberry rampage just hurried things along. Hecates been keeping Hecuba and Gale like prisoners, scared of them escaping. Shes been pushing people awaymaybe prospective students, like those four naiads.

Like SEJ, Annabeth said.

I nodded. I dont know what happened exactly, but if were going to try rebuilding this place with the help of ghosts, then we need to figure it out. Which means I need to talk to SEJ. Sally Estelle Jackson.