By Clea Hantman
The muses are within the pits and bet who is in charge...
"Now that you are ours, listed below are your duties."
"From today ahead you'll wait on us beauties."
"Scrubbing flooring, portray fingernails, and washing our clothes."
"And remember cleansing among every one of our toes!"
It's frightening. it truly is difficult. it really is worse than the muses' worst nightmares. it is the dreaded Hades, and period, Polly, and Thalia are destined to spend eternity the following -unless they could outwit the furies, a foul three-headed puppy, and their evil stepmom. Will the goddesses be captives without end? Or will a long-lost buddy appear to avoid wasting the day?
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Additional info for Love or Fate (Goddesses, 4)
It had been replaced by a wet, panting sound. Slowly I opened my eyes. Era was still clinging to my pants. But Polly . . Polly was—was— was . . petting it. “His name is Cerberus,” she said. ” She was rattling these giant metal charms under his middle chin. The beast seemed to be almost smiling. “What? I don’t care what its name is,” I said. “I’m just glad it’s not going to devour us. ” I ventured a hopeful look in Polly’s direction. “No, silly. He never was. ” Polly was nuzzling him under two of his chins.
Well, I do despise Hera . . but I love evil! What a conundrum! Hmmm, okay, do tell, but I make no guarantees that I can help,” said the king. “Thank you, Your Highness,” said Apollo, and he began to tell his story. “As you may or may not know, some time ago Hera had three of the Muses—Era, Polly, and my beloved Thalia—banished to earth. Well, Zeus actually sent them, but he never intended for them to stay long. And, well, he accidentally sent them into the future . . ” “Well, perhaps. Now, Hera had other plans.
But it is—it’s enormous. Gigantic. Tremendous. ” (57) F GODDESSES F Now, this was fun. I didn’t see what keeping my mouth shut was going to do for us, anyway. They already had it in for us. They weren’t going to spare us because all of a sudden we happened to be ladylike and charming. We were doomed. At the very least, I should have the pleasure of being snotty. Tizzie began to shake with anger. “Maybe we’ll get lucky, Pol,” I said through the corner of my mouth. ” Insane? Well, perhaps. Now bring out the Venus flytraps!