I

ARTEMIS

NOTE TO SELF: When you get roped into doing favors for your stepmother, said favors tend to involve fights to the death, saving demigods from suicide missions, and also breaking almost every single rule daddy ever laid out.

Artemis realized this a step too late. And now she was in a predicament. The path she currently looked to walk down was a very treacherous, unforgiving one with many possible forks that could lead to her world's demise.

Her gloomy expression stared back at her from the small lake she sat in front of. She wore her dark green cloak over a silver tunic and black leggings, a quiver hung from her back, and her bow was strung on one shoulder. The reflection on the water's surface of the goddess, resting on her heels with her arms wrapped about her legs, felt somewhat distant from her—detached. She felt weary despite not looking the part. Her eyes—tired and downcast—held traces of doubt, worry, hesitation.

Artemis hadn't felt this lost in awhile. Probably not since the death of Zoe Nightshade, her former lieutenant. But even then, she had found a direction when Thalia entered her circle of companions as a Hunter. The daughter of Zeus was as straight as an arrow and she led as such, demonstrating great leadership and power, as well as focus. Artemis was sure that even at this moment, her second-in-command was carrying the Hunt forward.

However, she herself was still at a standstill—stuck at a crossroads, attempting to gauge each of the many different paths before her.

She stared at her expression in the lake. When was the last time, she was able to show any other emotion besides pain, misery, and worry? Too long. She couldn't remember. Peace was a faraway entertaining thought. So long as the splitting headache due to her Roman and Greek side continued to wage a mental war in her skull, the grimace on her face was there to stay.

Her situation had become rather difficult over the past few months. She had decided to break her father's rules of no mortal contact, no direct involvement in mortal affairs, and no leaving Olympus, by doing all of the above. She had run across her stepmother, Hera, on one of her solo hunting expeditions. And from there, Artemis had become a player in the Queen's death game—this insane plan of swapping demigods from the two different camps. Coerced into becoming an accomplice in the scheme, forced to assist the goddess of marriage by directing her Hunters to Jason Grace, she was now determined to see this through.

Needless to say, daddy wasn't pleased.

The only reason she hadn't been hauled back to Olympus was because Zeus had to adhere to his very own rules of isolationism from the mortal world. Once everything was over, dad will forgive her. Hopefully. He had always let her off easy in the past.

Without the presence of her Hunters, the strangling feeling of loneliness invaded her chest, clenching at her heart. She did not regret sending her lieutenant, Thalia, and the rest to meet up with Jason; she owed it to Thalia to let her meet with her long-lost brother. But what wouldn't she give to share a campfire with her fellow maidens right now.

She looked towards the East, wondering how her brother, Apollo, was faring. With the loss of prophecy, he might be worse off than she was when next they meet their father. Apparently something else had wrested control of the Oracle of Delphi from the sun god. He hadn't been very keen to explain when she asked so she hadn't pressed. But whatever it was that had stolen the Oracle was no doubt formidable. And with the gods in their current state, constantly fighting with dual personality issues and the migraines that come with it, with the demigods completely cut off from Olympus, it didn't seem like they could do much.

She sighed. If Gaea wakes, father's punishment would be the least of their worries. And as for her brother, he would have to look after himself. Right now, she had to make sure that Hera's plan didn't end up self-destructing with the Romans and Greeks at each other's throats. Thalia would also be devastated if her friend, Percy Jackson, ended up dead because of a misunderstanding.

It was a desperate gamble. Also probably their best bet to win versus the Earth. But the more she thought about it, the worse her headache got.

Artemis bit her lip. She had decided to act instead of sitting back and watching from her throne on Mount Olympus. Like it or not, she was a player in this war now. She mustn't let her headache incapacitate her. The amount of influence she was about to have would break the rules of being a goddess. "Accompany him, not from afar but as a companion. Keep a close eye on the boy." That was what Hera had said. For some reason, that gave her an uncertain feeling in her chest. Like her stepmother was somehow wary of Percy; admittedly the son of Poseidon had a tendency to be unpredictable but Hera made him sound almost dangerous to both sides. Nevertheless, she had promised Thalia to keep Percy safe; the task would prove to be a lot easier if she were beside him. And even without the promise or Hera's orders, she would still be determined to protect that man's life.

He had put her under a debt she had yet to fully repay—maybe she'll never repay it. From saving her from the weight of the sky, earning the respect of her former second-in-command, Zoe Nightshade, defeating Kronos in the Second Titan War. He was a contradiction to her view on men. Maybe if she had met him long, long ago—

Suddenly, a howl broke the night, interrupting her musings. A wisp of cloud crept over the moon, darkening the scenery around her. A hush fell over the now obscure landscape as if the place was holding its breath. A sudden chill ran down Artemis' spine and she felt eyes on the back of her neck. She stood up slowly, stretching as if unaware. And then vanished into thin air, reappearing atop a branch of a tall tree towards the left side of where she sensed the intruding presence. She looked at the ground where she had previously stood. At first she couldn't see it, then the clouds uncovered the moonlight and the glint of a celestial bronze needle came into sight, sticking out of the dirt. The vegetation around the small, deadly weapon crumbled to dust.

Poison. Not enough to actually kill. But plenty to incapacitate an unaware goddess.

The method was cold, calculated. The execution had been sloppy. The enemy's lapse in focus had allowed her to sense the hostility directed towards her.

She turned her gaze towards the area where she had sensed the hostile's killing intent. Nothing moved. Nothing showed. Not a sound. She concentrated. And the eyes and ears of the forest—birds, canines, dryads, naiads alike—opened for her. From an owl, she caught a glimpse of glowing red eyes before the bird was killed. In that split second, she had fired a rain of arrows at the location.

A grunt of annoyance reached the ears of a dryad near the onslaught. To be able to kill and then evade on such short notice and yet the inability to hide one's presence. Something did not add up. Was she made aware of their presence on purpose? This was bad. The feeling of uneasiness felt tangible, permeating the air. She couldn't help but have a sneaking suspicion that this assassin had been sent to stop her. Someone didn't want her to interfere. Someone didn't want her near Percy. And they were willing to launch a foolish attack in a place where she would have the upper hand.

The faint hiss of wind alerted her to another needle streaking her way. But she was already on the move, constantly switching to different vantage points atop the trees. The unknown assailant was persistent. But something was off. These attacks were almost—

Artemis fired another flurry of arrows from where the needle had been shot as she danced atop the trees. Every now and then she would catch sight of a running shadow or the lifeless red eyes of the shadow's owner. At some point in this deadly hide-and-seek, the assassin had switched to arrows. And like the needles, they were laced with poison. Artemis had abandoned her advantage of high ground amongst the branches of trees. She needed to end this or else the whole forest would end up dead.

She had wounded her attacker. Whoever her opponent was, they were not mortal; droplets of golden ichor dotted the forest floor from where her arrows had grazed them. Was she up against one of Gaea's giants? Countless thoughts on the possibilities of the identity of her assailant raced through her mind. This immortal was an experienced killer, adept in the ways of ushering various nasty deaths. There was a certain sickening familiarity to the patterns of the killer. That familiarity was helping her in tracking and weakening her target, but it also wanted to make her throw up.

They were both running up one of the many high hills that surrounded Mount Tamalpais now. Artemis wondered how long this game of cat-and-mouse had already lasted as she flitted in and out of the cover of trees. She was also surprised at the lack of monsters. Especially since they were nearing the Titan stronghold. It was strange.

A lion came leaping out of nowhere.

It rammed into her side, sending her tumbling down the hill only to be stopped as her back hit the base of a tree. She cursed, rolling into a crouch with her bow drawn. She glared at her tackler. The lion growled back at her. And suddenly the blood lust cleared from her eyes. Her adrenaline faded. She regarded the lion once again and realized. It was one of Hera's sacred animals. Their eyes met, the lion seemed satisfied as it snarled a final time before going on its way.

Clearheaded now, Artemis searched the hills for the assassin through the eyes of passing flocks of birds and spotted the shadow just before it was swallowed by the Earth—as if it had never been there. As if it had accomplished its objective. The uneasiness turned to dread. It had been a distraction. The attacks had been made half-heartedly as if the killer knew that it wouldn't succeed. The very idea of challenging the goddess of the Hunt to a hunting game was questionable. However, the ambush hadn't been a game of death. Instead they served a different purpose: to draw the moon goddess' attention and keep her busy along this wild goose chase.

Anger started to bubble to the surface. But she kept it under control. She was certain now that Gaea or someone affiliated with the earth goddess did not want her at the Roman Camp or with Percy. She also had a sinking feeling that the reason why there were scarcely any monsters around was because they were being mobilized elsewhere. That elsewhere being the Camp.

She needed to hurry.

There was a rumble of thunder. She looked to the skies. The clouds looked as if they were being sucked into a black hole in the distance, funneling into a vortex in the horizon.

That was probably Gaea's welcoming party sounding the go-ahead. It was time to move. She tried to see the "distance"—not in space but in time. No luck. Hopefully, the son of the sea wasn't being made into a seafood dish by the Giants yet. Hopefully, the Romans hadn't found him wandering near their Camp and put him to the sword yet. Hopefully, she would make it in time to save both Thalia's best friend and the Camp from themselves and the earth's forces.

She blew her hunting horn, summoning her silver chariot. Lightning flashed once across the night, thunder followed, she tried to not worry about it. As she rose into the air, flying through the sky, Artemis glanced out at Mount Tam and then at the swirling storm where Gaea's forces marched toward New Rome, and turned her chariot toward Camp. She felt apprehensive, almost giddy. Things were beginning to progress more rapidly.

The pieces Hera had hastily set were beginning to move.

A geyser of seawater erupted from the direction of Camp Jupiter. Percy was fighting for his life. He could probably deal with most of the enemies that Gaea sent him but no doubt the earth goddess had a plan to kill or capture him. The curse of Achilles would protect him for the most part. But he was not immune from fatigue or poison gas. And if they had a giant or a sorcerer with them…

The goddess of the moon sighed. Stepmothers and their stupid schemes. Why not deliver the man directly to the Romans with a recommendation? Why the subtleties?

"Please. Let me make it in time."

-I-

Note: This fan fiction is a rewrite of The Son of Neptune fan fiction that I wrote ages ago.