She had flounced off to her temple to sulk for the seven months of winter, while the rest of the gods were still celebrating the Harvest Moon feast at the mouth of Hades’s realm. Once she was well gone, Hecate appeared in her customary puff of blue smoke, this time without her dogs, but with a large amphora dangling from one hand as if it weighed nothing. Bru greeted her with a grin, Leo with a matching one. “Stubborn woman,” Hecate muttered. “Well. As I told you both, thanks to Hades’s helmet, I was able to watch her when she was working the magic to make that little mortal child an immortal. I tried it out on that little lad Zeus kidnapped for a cupbearer, so I know it works. This is why I was making sure you never ate anything but ambrosia for the last five months.” She eyed Leo suspiciously. “Please tell me you obeyed my order to the letter.” “I swear!” Leo protested. “Lady, I know how The Tradition works, and if you wanted me to eat nothing but ambrosia, then there had to be a good reason for it.”
