Chapter Text
Percy is mucking out one of the horse stalls when the shadows pool together. The neighboring horses make panicked sounds, and he has to drop his rake to calm them. He’s barely managed to stop their panic, let alone truly calm them, when the goddess loses Her patience.
“Perseus Jackson.”
He turns, slowly, to face Her, one hand still stroking a horse’s nose. “My Lady.”
The goddess’ form flickers. Two other faces appear on either side of her head, just for a moment. A child of flaxen hair, a stooped crone with age-bleached hair. And then they’re gone, leaving only the center face. A tall, night-eyed woman with pitch-black hair that surrounds her like a halo, especially with the green flames that edge it. All three faces had offered him the same steely look, and he doesn’t need to ask to know who she is.
“Perseus Jackson, I have need of your assistance.”
Well at least they waited a couple months before coming to him for another quest. Handling his sudden, prolonged disappearance from school and work was hard enough without divine errands while he caught up on what he missed. He was lucky he didn’t lose his position here at the stables after all of it.
He keeps his face neutral. “What do you need from me, Lady Hekate?” If yet another god has lost something…
“My dog has run away. Is currently running wild in the city. I would have you retrieve her and bring her home to me.”
He blinks. “Not that I’m saying no, but why are you unable to find her yourself?”
“She is a hellhound.” Um. Well. Hopefully a hellhound like Mrs. O’Leary and not any other hellhound he’s met. “I would offer you a boon for completing this task, boy. She must be back quickly, for her own safety. This time of year is hard for her.” April? But he can’t focus on the specifics, not when he swears he can see a flicker of emotion cross the goddess’ stony face. Worry.
It’s not hard to make up his mind. And he’ll be honest, if this hellhound is like Mrs. O’Leary, who he has a soft spot for- it’ll be worth it. “I’ll do it.”
Her chin dips. “Good. You’ll need this. Clip it to her collar.” A leash appears in her hand, strong and sturdy. Percy takes it. “Call for me when you have her.”
Shadows begin to crawl up from her feet, swallowing her. Clearly, she doesn’t want to stay long. Not that he completely blames her, he was cleaning out a stall when she arrived and it doesn’t always smell good. But- she’d given him so little to work with.
“Wait-” The shadows still, and she arches a brow at him expectantly. “My lady, can you give me any more information about your dog? Any piece about her personality that could help me?”
Hekate hums. “She wasn’t always a dog, so don’t assume she’ll think that way.” What did she use to be? “And she doesn’t like greeks. I would start there. And do it alone, more people will just make it worse.”
She doesn’t do a slow exit this time. She’s there one second, and gone the next, leaving Percy with a leash in his hand and more questions on the tip of his tongue. She didn’t even give him the dog’s name. All he’s got is female hellhound who was mysteriously something else at some point in her life, she doesn’t like greeks - like most monsters - and she doesn’t like April. That’s incredibly unhelpful, and he grumbles something to that point under his breath.
He was perhaps louder than intended, because Costas pokes his head in from outside. “Percy? Everything alright?”
Percy shrugs, his brow furrowed. “I’ve been given a quest to find a dog that doesn’t like greek people or the month of April and apparently thinks weirdly?”
Costas just blinks twice and apparently decides to dismiss that as some normal piece of Percy being a demigod. Which he’s very fair to after tagging along for half the gigantomachy. “Doesn’t like greeks as in scared of them or as in hates them?”
“Uhh. Probably the latter?” Who knows, really.
“My best guess? With ‘doesn’t behave like a normal dog’ I’d suggest you check the local greek community.”
The what? “Which is where, other than Camp?”
“Oh, Astoria. Queens. I can help you look after we leave.”
Percy grimaces. “I was told to go alone.”
“Then I’ll drop you off at least, and when you find her or need to call it for the evening you can come back and I’ll take you home. After dinner.”
Percy straightens. “Absolutely, if you’re cooking.”
Costas laughs and ruffles his hair. “Of course. I was thinking bõrek or kofta. And we can pick up baklava for dessert. Now get back to work.”
Percy snorts, but picks up his rake.