I Get All the Candy
When Grover shook me awake, I felt like I’d been asleep for eight seconds.
Annabeth was already rushing out the door. She gave me a kiss. “Good luck.”
Then she kissed Grover on the forehead and told him the same thing.
Five minutes later, I was out the door too with an incredible case of bed head and clothes covered in hellhound fur.
First stop: home. The apartment was empty, but it felt good to use a shower that didn’t spit fire. I changed clothes and walked over to the Cracked Teapot.
My mom was at her favorite table, sipping herbal tea and staring at her laptop.
“Percy!”
She always greeted me with such enthusiasm. It was nice, except when I remembered it was partly because she was surprised to find me still alive.
She gave me a hug. “Do you need any breakfast? They have scones today.”
This was a big selling point for my mom. Scones had never excited me, though. They always tasted like dehydrated muffin bricks.
“I’m good,” I said. “Just wanted to let you know what’s happening.” “Please!” she said. “Sounds much more fun than revisions.”
I told her about my week at Hecate’s. The more I talked, the more Mom tapped her fingers against her cup, like she was channeling all her worry into the porcelain. If she’d had my sea powers, she probably would’ve been stirring up a tempest in her teapot.
“Quite an ordeal,” she conceded. “But at least you got the animals back.”
“Yeah … except the hardest part is still to come. If this raising-the-dead thing doesn’t work out—”
“Hey.” She reached across the table and took my hand. It reminded me of when I was a little kid. Sometimes I’d felt like the world was spinning too fast. I couldn’t process all the sounds and lights. My mom would tell me to
focus on holding her hand. She wouldn’t let go until I felt steadier. “You’re going to be fine,” she said now.
It didn’t matter that her own hand was trembling. I knew she was as scared as I was. But that was okay as long as we were scared together.
“Yeah,” I said. “Of course.”
“Just support Annabeth. If she’s holding the torches, she’s going to need you tonight.”
“Is that a secret mom-life-hack?” I asked. “How you keep from getting too freaked out?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like … focus on the people you love. They need you; you can’t afford to get overwhelmed, so you keep it together.”
She laughed. “Maybe so. All I know is that you and Annabeth and Grover are going to get through this.”
Optimism—another of my mom’s superpowers.
I remembered my talk with Grover yesterday. He’d been so worried that he’d subconsciously sabotaged us so Annabeth and I couldn’t leave for California. I thought about the temptations Hecate had left in our path—the strawberry potion, the library, the torches—almost like she wanted us to fail.
Crossroads were Hecate’s thing. Whether I liked it or not, I was standing at one now. Everything was going to change one way or another. I just wished the options didn’t all feel so terrifying. Why couldn’t Hecate be waiting at
the intersection with a helpful map and a selection of refreshing beverages?
My first meeting with her in the principal’s office, when she’d turned into a fiery triple-headed horrorfest, had been enough to reduce me to a terrified child with a loose bladder. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like for an actual child to encounter the goddess.
“I’ve got to ask you something.” I told my mom about the apparition I’d been seeing—the child on the bike, leaving behind a pair of broken glasses.
“That was you, wasn’t it?”
She stared at the steam coming off her teacup. “I wondered … when you mentioned Gramercy Park. So that was Hecate’s house.”
I’d been pretty sure I was right. Now that I knew, I had a sudden urge to take away all of Hecate’s candy corn. Certain things should be off-limits,
even for gods. Harassing my mom was at the top of that list—especially when she was a child.
I had a lot of questions. As usual, the most random thought came out first. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
She smiled wistfully, the way she does when she looks at old photographs. “I haven’t since that day. My family made me wear them because I was seeing things … differently.”
“Through the Mist.”
She’d always been able to do that. Some rare mortals could, but I’d never considered how hard that would’ve been for her as a kid.
“They were just trying to help,” she said. “They were worried. When other kids saw a mounted police officer riding down the street, I saw a pegasus.
That kind of thing. We used to live near Gramercy Park West. One day, when I was riding my bike down the street, I saw that mansion, shifting and blending into the buildings around it. Those tombstone walls.”
“Yep,” I said. “Hecate definitely has an aesthetic.”
My mom frowned. “An old lady was standing on the porch. Just one head, and no fiery aura. She looked like a witch, though—black robes, white hair. She saw me on my bike, gawking at her house. I figured she would yell at me for staring, but instead she said something surprising.”
I remembered the voice from my vision. “Let me guess. ‘There is nothing wrong with your sight.’”
My mom nodded. “She flicked her hand at me and the glasses broke— fell right off my face. Then she said, ‘You arrived too late. Move along.
Find another life.’ I was so scared …. Like I told you, I haven’t been back to Gramercy Park since. But afterward, when I looked through the Mist, I kind of understood what was happening. I told my family my eyes felt better. I learned not to mention the strange things I saw. In a way, Hecate helped
me.”
I tried to imagine what it would’ve been like if Hecate’s school was still open back then. Would she have invited my mom inside to meet the hellhound and polecat? Would Sally Jackson have become a witch? I knew my mom could do anything she set her mind to. But that path would have been so different …. Would I ever have been born?
I felt like I needed to apologize, but I wasn’t sure what for. Hecate had scared her and hadn’t offered her a chance to learn magic. On the other hand, my mom had turned out great. Did I really want her to have a life like
Gale’s? Also, I had been born. I had to consider that a plus. So why did I feel guilty?
“Chiron told me that not all of Hecate’s ghosts are dead spirits,” I recalled. “He said the worst ones are memories and regrets … like choices we never made.”
She studied my face. She scooted her chair back and stood, which was getting increasingly difficult for her as the baby got bigger. “Come here, you.”
I got up and let her wrap me in a hug.
“That ghost you’re seeing?” she said. “That may be a memory, but I have no regrets.”
She held my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “My life is wonderful.
You are wonderful. I think you’re seeing Hecate’s regrets. If anyone needs your help and understanding, it’s her.”
That was the most Sally Jackson thing to say ever. A goddess had scared her, changed her life, and then years later threatened to incinerate her son if he didn’t pet-sit her animals correctly. And my mom’s reaction was That poor immortal goddess must really be hurting. You should help her.
“You’d better get going,” she added. “You’re going to be late for school. Dinner tomorrow, after this is all over?”
Straight back into classic mom mode.
“You’re right,” I said. “Yeah. Dinner tomorrow. I’ll try not to bring any undead with me.”
She laughed. “I’d prefer to see Annabeth and Grover. But your friends are always welcome, dead or otherwise.”
I had to hustle to school, but the stop had been worth it. The entire train ride to Queens, I was thinking Yeah, I can do this! rather than Yeah, I’m going to die!
I got through my tests and homework assignments. I pretended to know things. I guess my teachers appreciated the effort. Fourth period, I hoped to find Mr. Brunner still substituting, but my regular teacher, Dr. Sharma, had returned. She looked disappointed that I hadn’t yet picked a forgotten historical figure for my project. I told her I was thinking about Gale from ancient Greece.
“Who?” she asked, then apparently realized I had passed the forgotten
portion of the assignment. “Never mind. I look forward to reading it.”
At lunchtime, I headed to the counselor’s office. I didn’t actually expect
Eudora to be there, but this time I wasn’t going to take AWOL for an answer.
I said hi to Sicky Frog, who stared at me dejectedly from his usual spot on
the wall. At least I could leave whenever I wanted—he was stuck there. I sat
in a too-small plastic chair left over from AHS’s past life as an elementary school. I stared at the empty space behind Eudora’s desk.
“I know you can hear me,” I said. “We need to talk.” I waited.
“Come on, Eudora,” I cajoled. “I was just getting ready to tell my dad how great you’ve been as my counselor—always there for me, always helpful—”
“Percy!” Eudora swept into the office from whatever broom closet she’d been hiding in. “What a nice surprise!”
“You’ve been avoiding me,” I said.
“What?” Her eye twitched behind her bottle-thick glasses. “Not at all!” I stared at her.
A rivulet of seawater trickled down the side of her face from her seashell hairdo.
“It’s not really you,” she said. “It’s just …” “Hecate is terrifying,” I guessed.
“Hecate is terrifying!” She exhaled, deflating into her chair. “Oh, cockleshells! When she took over the principal’s office, I thought I would die, and I’m immortal! Have you seen what she’s up to now?”
“I … What?”
She plucked a shell from her hairdo and set it on the desk. A tiny jet of water shot upward, making a miniature fountain. At the top of the spout, where the water curled back on itself like a mushroom cloud, an image rippled into clarity.
Hecate was dancing down a gravel path at night, following a crowd of costumed revelers through a graveyard. The partyers wore black robes
speckled with red. Their faces were painted chalky white. Some carried candles. Others bore plates of round pastries. Hecate held her torches out to either side and glowing spirits rose from the earth, joining the parade.
The souls flocked toward her, crowding around and clawing at her robes with their ghostly hands. When they got too close, Hecate crossed her
torches, making an X over her chest, and the spirits disappeared again like dust blown away in a breeze.
Hmm, interesting …
The crowd carried on. Hecate laughed and followed the celebration. “Where is that?” I asked.
“The Philippines, I believe,” Eudora said. “They have a tradition called Pangangaluluwa—appeasing souls with food and festivity.” She shook her head. “I know I shouldn’t be doomsquirting, but I can’t help following her progress! If she makes her way back here, I do not want to run into her in the faculty lounge. Especially …”
She stopped herself, looking guiltily at me. “Especially if I fail?” I asked.
“No! I’m sure you won’t fail.” She hesitated. “Will you?”
“Love the confidence.” I told her what we’d been doing all week and that we needed to put the mansion back in order before Hecate returned in the morning. “Any advice? Any gifts from the sea that might help?”
Eudora’s doomsquirt fountain fizzled out.
“Perhaps you should run and hide,” she said, solidifying her front-runner status for Guidance Counselor of the Year. “I should probably make
arrangements to visit the Mariana Trench for the rest of the term.” “Wait … why would Hecate come after you?”
The Nereid winced. She seemed so uptight, I was afraid one of us would
dissolve into water and get flushed through the floor. That tended to happen in Eudora’s office. Instead, she picked up her shell and returned it to her hair.
“I may have, ah, suggested you …” Eudora said. “For Hecate’s task.” “You what?!”
She swallowed. “Hecate ambushed me! She showed up on Olympus and
… well, she asked me what I thought of you. I was shocked! She hadn’t spoken to me since 1914! I—I was desperate to impress her. And foolishly
… I said you were quite competent.” “Thanks?”
“I panicked! And now, if you fail, that means I failed. Oh, she won’t forgive me a second time.”
“I still don’t—Wait.”
I’m a little slow on the uptake. But when a puzzle finally starts coming together, I can usually finish it without having to bash too many of the
pieces into place.
“A second time,” I said. “Nineteen fourteen. That’s the last year Hecate ran her magic school. You were part of that?”
Eudora stared at Sicky Frog. They looked equally miserable.
“The school was my idea,” she confessed. “Hecate gets so gloomy when she’s on her own. It’s not healthy for her or her animals. I thought she would find it rewarding to teach young witches. And for a while, she did. I was the counselor and admissions director. I would bring promising students to her: demigods, mortals, nymphs, centaurs … all sorts. But when things fell apart
…”
“What happened?”
She shrugged listlessly. “War. It’s always a war. Our students started taking sides, arguing with one another. It escalated from name-calling to violence to potion-flinging.”
“Potion-flinging is bad.”
Eudora nodded. “The students needed … more than we could give them.
Empathy. Opportunities for healthy communication. I didn’t know how to
close the rift. And Hecate, well, she believes in crossroads, in people making their own choices, even if all the choices are bad. She refused to intervene.
Things got nasty toward the end. Then she kicked everyone out, swore never to teach again. She blamed me for putting her in that position.”
“Oh.”
I felt bad for Eudora. It sounded like she’d been doing exactly what my mom had recommended—trying to help a goddess who was hurting. And it backfired spectacularly. I’d seen what could happen when infighting started among demigods—choosing sides, calling names, throwing blame and
sometimes weapons. Just last summer, I’d watched two rival camps almost destroy each other and the whole world in the process. Hecate had sabotaged herself, just like she seemed to be sabotaging us now. I was going to have to take away her candy corn and her kürtőskalács.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I said.
Eudora sighed. “What was I thinking? A magic school! Can you imagine such a thing?”
“Yeah. Wild.”
“And now, if you leave her mansion in a state of disrepair …” “Got it.”
“And I recommended you! I am a fool!”
“Don’t beat yourself up. A lot of people make the mistake of recommending me.”
She put her head in her hands. “All I wanted to do was help. So many talented young people in the world and they don’t all fit in the demigod camps! If Hecate still had her school, for instance, perhaps I could have placed those lovely nymph sisters after they fled Circe’s Island!”
“Ah, yeah. Them.”
“Instead, they went into retail!” She frowned. “I wonder how they’re doing
….”
I cleared my throat. This seemed like a good time to leave.
I stood, but I couldn’t make myself go when Eudora looked so distraught.
I didn’t have my mom’s talent for comforting people; still, I felt like I had to try.
“I won’t fail,” I told Eudora. “This won’t blow back on you.” She looked up at me. “Are—are you sure?”
“Totally,” I said. This was totally a lie. I had no idea how to solve our problems. I just knew they had to be solved—for our sakes, and Eudora’s, and even Hecate’s. Maybe believing I could figure it out was the first step to figuring it out.
“This has been a great pep talk,” I told her. “You’ve inspired me.” “I have?”
“You bet. Just one last thing for luck. Trick or treat?” She stared at me. I pointed at the Jolly Ranchers.
“Oh,” she said.
I must’ve looked like I needed all the help I could get. She handed me the entire jar.
