Hey guys. Now I don't want to set a precedent of quick updates because I have no idea how long future chapters are going to take, but I finished this chapter a lot sooner than I expected. Originally, this chapter and the next one were going to be one chapter, but when I got to, like, almost 15,000 words, I decided it would probably be best to split it up so I figured I'd go ahead and upload this chapter.
Something I wanted to note before someone flames me for it: I'm not going to have Zoë speak in Old English in this story. It's extremely awkward to write and it was something that just always bothered me a bit about her character. I know it's technically OOC, but hey, artistic license and all that; we'll just assume that like the rest of the Hunters, her English has adapted with the time.
Like always, let me know what you think. Suggestions and constructive criticism are always appreciated. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own PJO - or the random Matrix quote I couldn't resist adding at the end.
Chapter 2: Truth, Part 1
Artemis stepped out of the makeshift infirmary tent and shielded her face from the bright morning sunlight, rubbing her eyes in frustration. It had been a very stressful night. First, the Hunters' attempt to track an elusive manticore near Denver had failed and the monster had escaped. Then, they had followed a pack of hellhounds that had led them to the escaped Titan Krios, but he had fled before they could move in on him. To top it all off, her attempt to heal a male demigod they had found injured by Krios had partly failed as well, and because of that, she had to call on her brother Apollo, the god of healing.
She knew from experience that summoning her twin was just going to multiply her stress tenfold. It was bad enough when she had to deal with him on her own, but in the company of her Hunters… every flirtatious wink and suggestive comment towards her girls made her almost want to strangle him. She sighed. There was nothing for it, though. If she wanted the demigod she'd rescued to live, Apollo was the only one who could save him.
Trying to ignore the annoyance she knew would soon be forthcoming, she sent out a piece of her essence to locate her brother. It wasn't hard; as twins, they shared a connection beyond that of normal gods. She spoke directly into his mind.
This will likely be the only time I ever say this, but I need your help, brother. I rescued a demigod in the wild and he is dying from a poison that is beyond my ability to cure. Regrettably, that leaves me no choice but to ask you for help. Come swiftly; I fear he may not have much time left. Oh, and one more thing: it has been an extremely trying night and I am in no mood for your antics. If you flirt with my Hunters, I will castrate you. She withdrew from his mind.
She turned back to the clearing where the Hunters had set up camp the night before, the same clearing where they'd found Krios and the demigod he'd fought. The day was calm and cool, the sun having just risen, and the trees in the woods around them were lush and green. The Hunters' tents were arranged in a circle around the edge of the glade, leaving a large opening in the middle, in the center of which was the fire pit. It wasn't cold enough to warrant a fire, though, so at the moment the dry logs in the pit were untouched.
Artemis decided that the best way to avoid Apollo flirting with her girls was just to make sure they didn't interact at all. She made her way around to each of the tents, letting her Hunters know that Apollo was on his way, and that if they wanted to, they could feel free to stay in their tents for the duration of his visit. None of the girls were very happy about his impending arrival, of course, but Artemis' offer to abstain from his presence cheered them up slightly. They treated Lord Apollo with grudging respect, as was his due as god of the sun and their mistress' brother, but that didn't mean they had to like him. Artemis couldn't really blame them for that. Apollo had his moments, but even she wanted to kill her twin sometimes.
Soon, Artemis felt him approaching. There was a sudden burst of light on the horizon and a red convertible Maserati Spyder with the top down appeared in the clearing with a blast of warmth, igniting the dormant wood in the fire pit. She watched as the driver's side door opened and Apollo climbed out. Her brother was in his seventeen-year-old form (he loved doing that when she was around, just to make him feel superior) with sunny blond hair and bright blue eyes, the color of the clear sky. His smile was as playful and dazzling as always, and she sighed inwardly. Apparently he wasn't taking her warning seriously, not that she could say she was surprised.
"Hey, little sis!" Apollo greeted brightly. "What's this about needed my magic healing touch?"
She groaned. "Apollo, we are twins. I thought we settled this millennia ago… you are not older. We were born at the same time."
"Sure, sure. I think you're just in denial. Anyways, you said this kid was in a lot of trouble, right? Where's he at?"
Artemis sobered as she recalled the reason for Apollo's visit. "This way," she said, leading him to the infirmary tent. To her surprise, when they entered the tent, she found her lieutenant, Zoë Nightshade, kneeling next to the unconscious demigod, trying to coax him to eat another square of ambrosia. She looked up as she heard the godly twins approach and bowed to Artemis before giving Apollo a polite nod. He frowned at her, but said nothing. Zoë stood and quickly departed the tent. Apollo watched her go with a slightly disapproving look.
Then his gaze landed on the form on the cot and his eyes went wide with shock. His face paled and all traces of the mirth he'd had when he first arrived melted off his expression. "Oh, no," he breathed. Artemis stared slack-jawed at her brother. She had never seen him this serious in all the thousands of years she had known him, and it worried her immensely. Not only that, but he seemed to recognize the injured half-blood.
"Brother, how –?" she started to ask, but Apollo cut her off.
"I'm sorry, sis, but this isn't the time or place," he said, his tone grave. "You asked me for a favor in coming here; now I need to ask you for one." Artemis nodded and waited. "Forget you ever saw this demigod."
Artemis shook her head, baffled. "Apollo, I know what that poison is," she argued. "I know what it's from. The monster has been dead for millennia, never to reform. How is this boy suffering from it?"
This time it was Apollo's turn to shake his head. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry. All I can tell you is that if you stay involved, it will only be more painful for you. I know you have more questions, but you have to believe me when I say you won't like the answers. So please, sis… let it go."
Artemis studied her brother for a minute longer. His jaw was firmly set, and his eyes… his eyes were devoid of any of his trademark playfulness. They were filled only with sadness and a tinge of regret. Finally, she nodded, and Apollo looked relieved, giving her a grateful look and a sad smile.
She carefully controlled her thoughts and expression so as not to let her brother know that she planned to disobey him. Even if he was right and it would just be painful, she had to know what was causing her twin to react like this. Beyond that, she thought she felt something familiar about the boy's essence. It was partly that which had drawn her to the clearing where they'd found Krios; they had only seen the hellhounds when they were already on the boy's trail. For some reason, the boy's presence felt almost like that of a Hunter, yet not as powerful or well-developed. It didn't make any sense. She could tell now beyond any doubt that Apollo knew the boy's identity, and she needed to know who he was and how her brother knew him. Apollo may not be willing to give her any answers, but she resolved to track down the boy once he was healed and confront him when he was alone.
Apollo bent down and gently lifted the boy off the cot. He hung limply in the sun god's arms. Artemis followed as he exited the tent and carried the boy back the sun chariot, laying him carefully in the passenger seat. Apollo vaulted nimbly over the driver's door and slid into the seat. He started the car, but before he flew off, he looked back at Artemis one more time. He started to say something, then apparently thought better of it, as he grimaced and turned away. The engine revved, and in a small inferno of light and warmth, the sun god, his car, and his charge shot off into the dawn sky.
When he had gone, Artemis turned to Zoë. "Tell the girls to break camp," she ordered. "Apollo may think he's doing what's best, but I intend to decide that for myself. As soon as possible, we're going after him and the boy." Zoë nodded and left to do as the moon goddess instructed. "In the meantime, though, I must report to the Council," Artemis muttered to herself. "Father needs to know what has transpired here." She decided she'd make her report after she tracked down the boy, so she trudged off to the nearest tent to help her Hunters disassemble the camp.
I've never been much of a morning person, but if I had a list of "Arrin's Top 5 Worst Ways to Start Your Day," let me tell you, this would definitely be number one.
I woke up with a scream. I was lying on something soft, and a warm blanket enveloped my body. I could still feel the phantom memory of the pain I'd suffered in my dream, as if all of my old wounds had been reopened, then rinsed with acid. My chest burned in too many places to count. And my back… I frowned in confusion. The song of the wild meandered pleasantly back into my head, and as it drove away the remnants of my dream, I realized my back felt fine. Better than fine, actually. My chest, too, felt better than it had in years, as if the knife marks had never been there. But I felt something else, too, something I hadn't noticed since back before Krios had captured me; a dull ache that seemed to be spread throughout my whole body.
"About time you woke up," a strangely familiar voice said gruffly. "Can you open your eyes?"
I figured I might as well give it a shot. My eyes felt like they'd been glued shut, but after a short struggle, I was able to slowly force them open. The first thing I noticed was that somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognized my surroundings. I was in a small square cabin, the walls made of dark golden bricks. Each wall of the cabin was fifty feet long, if I remembered correctly, and there was a fire burning to my right. A cooking pot floated over it, supported by nothing. I breathed in deeply and my senses were bathed in the heavenly aroma of…
"Deer meat, cooked in a blend of garlic and grated parmesan cheese… your favorite, right?" I turned my head to the left to regard the speaker.
A man was sitting in a simple wooden chair next to my bedside. He was around thirty years old, with dirty blond hair and striking blue eyes like a clear summer day. He had stubble on his chin, and the hint of a mischievous grin tugged at his lips. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants with holes on the knees and a plain red t-shirt. "Fred?" I asked hopefully.
His grin broke through in full force, and I matched it. "The one and only," he said. "How you feelin', kid?"
"Well, let's see." I pretended to think carefully. "I've escaped from an evil Titan, been reunited with my old mentor, and my injuries have been almost fully healed, from what I can tell, so I'd say I feel pretty damn good. How long have I been out?"
Fred's grin seemed to lose some of its luster as I mentioned my wounds, and inwardly I frowned, wondering if there was something he wasn't telling me. "Three days," he answered. "You were in quite a bit of trouble, you know. If hadn't been for…" he hesitated. "Ah, nevermind, I'll tell you later. The point is you're here now, and you're awake. What do you remember?"
I thought back to the night where I'd managed to escape from Krios' palace. "Most of it, I think," I said. "I remember breaking out of the palace. I remember the chase through the woods, and the clearing where I fought Krios. I remember getting knocked into a tree a few times" – here I rubbed the back of my head, instinctively searching for a knot – "and then hearing a hunting horn, before I passed out. Then I woke up here. Care to fill in the gaps for me?" I looked at Fred, and he seemed thoughtful, as if debating how much to tell me, and I frowned inwardly again.
After a while, he said, "The horn you heard came from the Hunters of Artemis. Titans have a powerful aura, and the Hunters were drawn to your fight with Krios. They found you passed out but not majorly wounded, until they realized your back was bleeding." I winced involuntarily, and Fred's eyes hardened. "Your torso was a mess. Front and back. What happened to you? Artemis had to call me to come heal you because she couldn't – " He stopped himself, but I was already calling for an interruption.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute," I said, holding my hands up in a time-out gesture. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why would Artemis, an Olympian goddess, need your help to heal me?" He started to say something, but I cocked an eyebrow at him and his protests died in this throat.
He sighed. "Look, Arrin, I'm sorry. But I guess it was bound to happen eventually. The truth is, my name isn't Fred, as you may have already guessed. It's Apollo."
It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. At first, I thought this was another one of his infamous jokes, but then I saw the uncharacteristically serious look in his eyes and I knew he was telling the truth. I cleared my throat. "So let me get this straight…" I said slowly. "You're telling me that for years, the mentor I looked up to as a father figure was actually the god of the sun, healing, music, poetry, prophecy, etc.?"
Apollo had the decency to look guilty. "The one and only," he confirmed, shooting me an apologetic look. "I would have told you if I could, but I had to be careful. Zeus is rather strict when it comes to interfering in mortal affairs. He'll usually overlook it as long as we don't go overboard, but, well… I guess you could say what I was doing was quite a ways past what might be considered 'overboard.' I mean, I basically raised you since you were a toddler – Father doesn't exactly approve of us gods having that large of an influence on the lives of demigods."
I listened to his explanation in contemplative silence. It made sense, what he said. I had heard about something called the Ancient Laws before, the laws forbidding interference among mortals. I could definitely see how what Apollo had done was in gross and epic violation of probably every single one in the book, which would put him in a very awkward position if Zeus ever found out. Still… I didn't like people lying to me, especially someone as close to me as Fred/Apollo had been, especially hiding something as back as that. I understood his reasons, but I didn't know if I was ready to forgive him just yet.
Also, there was another thought tugging at the back of my brain. If what he said was true, and it really had been him that had watched over me all those years, that begged the all-important question: why? What reason could Apollo possibly have had to risk Zeus' wrath in spending all that time and effort just to watch over some random demigod?
I voiced my question out loud, and it seemed to catch Apollo by surprise. I caught a flash of panic in his eyes before he masked it with his usual cheerfulness.
"Well, let's just say, I owed someone a favor, and I thought taking care of you might be a good way to repay it," he said smoothly. I carefully scanned his face, looking for anything in his expression that might give away the truth. He met my eyes easily enough, but I could still tell he was hiding something. That might have been part of the truth, but there was no way I was going to believe that was the whole truth.
But I shrugged and gave him a simple, "Ah, okay," and Apollo seemed to relax a bit. Whatever it was, I figured he'd tell me when I needed to know. He'd never kept anything important from me for very long. Except the fact that he's a god, my brain pointed out. I did my best to ignore it.
We lapsed into a slightly awkward silence. Even though my wounds seemed to have been healed, my limbs were stiff – a side effect of being unconscious for three days, I assumed – and I longed to make good on my newfound freedom and go hunting in the woods I knew surrounded Apollo's cabin. As I was about to attempt getting up from the bed, "Rock You Like a Hurricane" started blaring from the sun god's right pants pocket. I raised my eyebrow at him, like Really? He stuck his tongue out at me and reached into his pocket to pull out his iPhone. Like most of Apollo's possessions, the back was solid gold and seemed to glow in the firelight of the cabin.
"Yellow?" Apollo said into the phone, and I closed my eyes and shook my head in exasperation. Honestly, there was no limit to his corniness sometimes. "Really? Hmm. Yes, I think I can. Alright. Yes, I get it. Will do. See ya, Pops!" He hung up the phone and turned to me. "Sorry kid, that was the Pops. Duty calls. I gotta be on Olympus for a council meeting. I can tell you're itching to get back into the woods; go for it, but be careful. Your back and chest haven't fully recovered yet, so don't strain yourself too hard. I'll try to keep an eye on you while I'm at the meeting." I nodded, and he stood. His sweatpants and t-shirt morphed into a red tracksuit with a golden sun emblazoned on the left breast. He pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on, gave me his trademark dazzling smile, then began to glow. I averted my eyes as he revealed his true immortal form and vanished in a flash of golden light.
I climbed out of the bed and stretched, trying to dispel the perpetual ache in my body that I'd noticed when I first woke up. Was it my imagination, or was it starting to feel stronger? I shrugged and walked over to where my woolen pack was hanging in its old spot on a hook on the wall. Apollo must have recovered it from the woods the day I got captured by Krios all those years ago.
For the first time, I wondered how Apollo had felt while I was gone. Was he worried for me? Did he even know I hadn't left of my own will? Did he know what had happened to me? The thought left a bitter taste of resentment in my mouth. If he did know, why hadn't he tried to rescue me? I decided that as kind to me as he'd been, despite lying to me about his identity, Apollo deserved for me to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was a god, but that didn't necessarily mean he knew everything. Most likely, he may have known I'd been kidnapped, but he probably didn't know exactly who had taken me or where I'd been imprisoned.
He's the god of prophecy, my brain reminded me. Of course he knew.
Shut up, I told it.
Trying to shake myself out of those morbid thoughts, I grabbed my pack and rifled through it, making sure all my old supplies were still there. I noticed my silver hunting knife in its sheath, and I smiled and pulled it out before tying it onto my belt at my right hip. My baggie of ambrosia and canteen of nectar for emergencies were both fortunately still intact, as was my enchanted tent, folded into a thick square the size of a pocket handkerchief (a gift from Apollo once he started letting me hunt on my own). And buried at the bottom of my pack was the thing I'd missed most – my hunting garb. I gave an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp, which fortunately Apollo was not around to hear, and excitedly yanked it out.
The fabric of the tunic was soft as silk and flexible, but I knew from experience that it offered more protection than it seemed. It was mostly black, to help me camouflage in the darkness of a nighttime hunt, and lined with silver stitching. The pants were the same. I quickly pulled off my belt and stripped off the plain brown outfit that was a painful reminder of my captivity, hurriedly stepping into the pants and pulling the tunic over my head. Then I tied my belt back around my waist and let out a contented sigh.
I was almost giddy with happiness. For the first time in three years, I had the freedom to partake in my absolute favorite pastime: wandering carefree and aimlessly through the woods in search of something to hunt down and kill. A typical hobby for any self-respecting demigod.
I strode over to the door and opened it, breathing in the scent of the forest I'd known for so long. I stepped outside and felt a tingle as I passed through Apollo's protective enchantment. My eyes swept across the landscape in front of me, drinking in the view I'd been deprived of for so long.
To the left and behind me, the line of cliffs was just as I remembered it, with a stepped path winding down to the lake below. The water was a pristine azure, reflecting the beauty of the unblemished morning sky. It sparkled like flawless glass under the light of the pre-noon sun. Across the lake, the ground sloped down in a ridge and the forest continued unimpeded into the distance. For a moment, as I gazed over the water to the far shore, I thought I saw a glimpse of sunlight reflecting off something silver, but when I tried to look closer, there was nothing there. I shrugged and dismissed it as a trick of the light. In front of me and to my right, the tress stretched across the horizon in either direction as far as I could see. I restrained the urge to bolt off into the forest and walked forward at a steady brisk pace. I could hear the call of the hunt in my head, sharpening my instincts and heightening my senses. Finally, I couldn't hold myself back any longer, and with a joyful cry, I sprinted off into the woods.
Using my connection with the wild, I was able to sense a group of deer grazing in a clearing a few miles away from me, and I started heading in their direction. After I had been running for a few minutes, I began to feel an unusual weariness seep through me, like all my energy was draining away from the inside, and the ache in my body grew to a steady throbbing. I chalked it up to the fact that I hadn't fully recovered my stamina yet, after three years in captivity and a punishing fight with a Titan, so I didn't think too much of it.
I continued on the trail of the deer I'd sensed earlier, noting that something seemed to have startled them. They had ceased their grazing and were turning their heads wildly, making concerned animal noises (what sound does a deer make, anyway?). I frowned. I didn't think I was close enough for them to detect my presence yet, but it seemed like they had, because they were now running around in frantic circles like a bunch of headless chickens.
I grumbled something to myself about over-perceptive wildlife and increased my pace, trying to reach the herd before they dispersed entirely. I was almost to the clearing when something crashed into my side, knocking me painfully to the ground. Thanks to the unrivaled reactions of yours truly, I recovered quickly and rolled onto my feet, casting my eyes around to search for what had hit me.
It didn't take long. A few feet in front of me stood a humanoid figure, obviously female, with twin serpent trunks instead of legs. Her skin from the waist up was a sickly shade of green. She gazed hungrily at me with slitted vertical pupils, like a snake, and her forked tongue occasionally darted out of her mouth to lick the air. She carried a five-foot-long spear with a bronze tip. I grimaced. I remembered Apollo teaching me about these creatures; Scythian dracanae, I think he called them. As I watched, more dracanae appeared, seemingly emerging from the shadows of the trees around me, until a full dozen had me surrounded.
Don't get me wrong, I've been in some decidedly unfavorable life-or-death situations before, but alone in the middle of a forest, cornered by a bunch of monstrous snake women? I have to say, that was not something I'd ever anticipated having to deal with.
The dracanae that had knocked me over stepped forward and fixed me with her inhuman, slit-pupiled glare. "Moon sssspawn," she hissed, drawing out the "s" sound. "Our masssster Kronossss hasss given ussss the pleasure of taking care of you oursssselvessss. Your death will be the firssst coursssse of many. When Kronossss has risssen again, we will feasssst."
My veins felt like they'd filled with liquid nitrogen. With a shiver, my mind involuntarily recalled Krios' daily offer that always began our ritualistic routine. Join Kronos, and you will have everything you could ever want. Turn against the gods. What have they ever done for you? They have left you here, at my mercy, and done nothing. None of them have even bothered to claim you as their own. You can stop this pain, Orion; all you have to do is pledge yourself to my brother and I. Each day, my answer was the same, and each day, Krios would sigh and bring out either the whip or the knife, depending on his mood.
I remembered my dream of the voice in the pit, lamenting that Krios had failed in convincing me to join him and warning me to watch my back. With a start, I began to piece together the bits of information I had been given from Krios, my dream, and the dracanae. I finally recalled the story of Kronos: how Zeus had chopped him up with his own scythe and cast him into Tartarus. I realized the shadowy pit in my dream must have been Tartarus, which meant the voice… I shuddered. The light of the sun seemed to dim. This must have been what Kronos had been talking about when he threatened me. He had sent some of his followers, these dracanae, to destroy me in return for refusing to join him.
The dracanae started to advance towards me, licking their lips. Maybe it was a childlike and petulant thought, but the unfairness of it all seemed to crash down on me in that instant. I had escaped from the horrors of Krios' palace, survived a fight with said Titan himself, and just when I thought I was home free, back in my natural element, a horde of humanoid dragon monsters showed up to kill me. An indescribable rage filled me, and the song of the wild in my head swelled in volume until it drowned out the world around me. My body began to let off a faint silver glow. I summoned my katana effortlessly, with barely a flicker of thought. If I'd been thinking straight, I might have stopped to marvel at how easily I'd done it, but it's probably better I didn't seeing as I was still at risk of becoming snake chow.
The monsters hesitated at the sight of my sword, like Krios had done, but then they seemed to remember that there were twelve of them and only one of me. They continued forward, hissing.
At this point, I let my training from Apollo take over. My legs tensed and extended, sending me leaping towards the nearest dracanae. I cut her in half and she dissolved before she could so much as cry out in surprise. The rest of the skirmish was a blur. I jumped and hacked, rolled and slashed, pirouetted and decapitated. A few dracanae managed to make contact with the points of their spears, but I barely noticed the wounds. I just kept going, and soon, all that was left of the monsters was a slight haze of golden dust that was blown away by the morning breeze even as I watched.
I came down from whatever magical high I'd been riding. My katana disappeared. All of a sudden, the sense of weariness I'd noticed earlier swept over me. I felt like I'd just finished running suicides in the Sahara desert at mid-afternoon in July. My joints were stiff and my muscles felt like jelly. My knees buckled and I slumped against a nearby tree. Dimly, I thought that I probably should be concerned, but my mind was sluggish from fatigue. Then the pain hit.
I was no stranger to suffering, but this was agony unlike anything I had ever felt before. My blood seared my veins like liquid fire. My head was pounding. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. It felt like my whole body was ripping apart from the inside out.
There was a flash of light, and I caught a glimpse of a figure in a tracksuit jumping out of a floating, glowing red Maserati as my vision began to fade, and I thought I must be hallucinating.
Then I stopped caring, because I passed out. I decided I really needed to stop making a habit of this.
To say Artemis' father was unhappy would have been the understatement of the century.
Artemis stood in the center of the throne room of Olympus. Most of the twelve were present, but notably absent were Hephaestus, Hera, and Ares. The atmosphere in the hall was tense, as the Olympians listened to the moon goddess' troubling news.
The king of the gods sat on his marble throne in his typical gray pinstripe suit. Little lightning bolts flickered through his neatly trimmed beard, showing his displeasure. His stern, chiseled face regarded his daughter, who was kneeling in front of him, with a vexed look.
"A Titan, you say?" he rumbled. "Are you certain?"
Artemis stood. "Yes, Father," she answered. "I saw Krios with my own eyes. I fought him myself during the first Titan War; I would not easily forget his face."
"If that is indeed the case," Athena spoke up, her storm-grey eyes regarding the others pensively, "It would be prudent to keep careful watch on the others in the Pit. If the rest of the captive Titans were to escape…"
The other Olympians shifted uneasily. All of them remembered the Titan War, and none of them wanted a repeat of the carnage it caused.
Zeus didn't look convinced. "Preposterous! The Titans are secure in their respective prisons. We would know if they were to break out."
"With all due respect, Father," Artemis said. "Krios has escaped, and until three nights ago, none of us were aware of that fact. I think it would be wise to at least remain on guard."
The Lord of the Skies still didn't seem like he wanted to accept the fact that he could be wrong, but most of the other gods were nodding in agreement with Artemis. Zeus grumbled, but said, "Very well. If that is all…"
"Actually, Father, there is something else." Artemis was about to tell him about the half-blood she'd rescued from the Titan, but she happened to glance at Apollo. Her brother had been staring intently into her eyes, and as she finally turned to him, he gave a subtle shake of his head. The message was clear: I told you to let it go. So she sighed inwardly and instead, she said, "I request your permission to hunt down Krios and interrogate him. I wish to know how he escaped from Tartarus and what he plans to do now that he is back in the mortal world. The information would be valuable; the last thing we need is a Titan causing havoc among the mortals."
After considering the idea for a moment, Zeus reluctantly nodded. "I do not like this, but I will grant your request. Be careful, daughter. Council adjourned." Artemis bowed, and Zeus vanished in a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder, leaving behind the sharp smell of ozone. The rest of the Olympians departed as well, until the twin archers were the only deities left in the throne room.
Apollo stepped down from his throne and shrunk into human form to match his sister. Artemis watched him cautiously as he approached; he seemed displeased. A scowl was etched on his face. His flame-red tracksuit was glowing slightly, and the sun emblem on the left side of his chest now sported a small, live flame. His eyes were smoldering.
"Do you not understand the meeting of 'Let it go'?" he demanded. Artemis resisted the urge to shout back at him. It had been ages since he was this angry with her, and she had no desire to get into a full-fledged argument. "I meant what I said the other night. You need to stay away, Artemis." His voice softened a bit and his scowl lessened. "I'm just trying to protect you, sis. I don't want you to get hurt."
"I believe I am quite capable of protecting myself," she said coldly.
Apollo looked at her sadly. "Not when it comes to this."
"Why are you so adamant in denying me the answers I seek?"
"If you knew, you would understand why I cannot tell you."
She clenched her fists. "So help me, Apollo, I –" She stopped.
Apollo's jaw had suddenly tightened, and his eyes had gone wide with shock and panic. His hands trembled at his sides. Before she could ask him what was happening, he vanished in a flash of golden light.
Artemis stood rooted to the floor, staring confusedly at the spot her brother had just occupied a second earlier, her anger forgotten. She didn't know what had caused her brother to disappear so abruptly, but she did know that one way or another, she was going to get her answers. It was time to pay a visit to a certain young demigod.
Thankfully, my unconsciousness this time was undisturbed by nightmares, and I came to back in my bed in Apollo's cabin.
The pain I'd suffered before I blacked out had subsided back to a dull ache. My joints and muscles were still stiff, and my brain felt like it had been put through a wash cycle on high. My eyes flickered open. Apparently, I'd been out most of the day. The fire had burned down to embers. Soft, pink light from the setting sun filtered in through the western window, framing Apollo in an ethereal glow. Apt, considering he was god of the sun, but he didn't much look the part right now. He was leaning tiredly against the wall next to the window, staring absently out into the dusk. I'd never seen him so distracted, and an uncomfortable hypothesis, something I'd suspected since my escape from Krios, started to take root in my mind.
I cleared my throat to let him know I was awake. Apollo turned and regarded me silently for a moment. "I thought I said not to strain yourself too much," he said blandly.
"Yes, well…" I coughed. "Not of all of us can vaporize a bunch of dragon-snake-women-thingies without raising a finger. Besides, you know I've never been good at listening to you."
He grunted. "This isn't about me, or your capacity to annoy me. This is about you recklessly risking your life when you have injuries that haven't even healed yet!"
"There is no way you're actually putting this on me!" I ask you, the nerve of him! I'd been awake for less than a minute and he was already starting an argument! "You told me I could go out and hunt, so I did. It's not like I asked to get ambushed by a squad of dracanae. That was a kill-or-be-killed situation, buddy, so I did what I had to do." He deflated somewhat, like he'd already realized he was being unfair in blaming me for something out of my control. I calmed a little bit and decided to test my depressing hypothesis. "But it doesn't matter either way, does it?"
Apollo tried his best to look confused, but I caught the look of sadness on his face before he could hide it. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully.
I decided not to beat around the bush. "I'm dying, aren't I?"
The sun god stared at me like I'd just said, Medusa is a supermodel. Then he laughed, but I detected a hint of nervousness in it. "That's crazy," he said. "Where would you get that idea?"
I could tell he was doing his best to maintain his composure, and his behavior just made me more certain I was right. I didn't need him to try and shield me from the truth or make me feel better; I needed him to take this seriously. As much discomfort as it might cause me to dredge up memories of my captivity, I decided it was time for some real talk. "Apollo," I said sternly. "Do you know what Krios did to me while I was imprisoned at his palace?" Apollo's laughter died, replaced by a solemn look, and he shook his head. "Every day, he'd wake me up by dunking my head in a bucket of ice water. Then he'd give me an offer. It varied from day to day, but the gist was always the same: 'Join Kronos, help him rise and destroy the Olympians, and we will give you everything you could ever want. Refuse, and you will suffer.' Obviously, I'd refuse. From there, he'd alternate between two different forms of 'punishment,' he'd call it, but it was essentially just torture. Some days, he flogged my back until there was almost no skin left. Other days, he coated a set of throwing knives with pit scorpion venom and used my chest as target practice. One thing was the same, though. No matter what method of torture he used, he always brought me right to the edge of death. He may have even actually killed me a few times. But each night, he'd lay me down in a golden sarcophagus and I'd fall unconscious, and when I woke up the next morning, I'd be healed. Not fully, of course – he wanted to make sure that my wounds would always haunt me. But it would restore enough of my strength so that I could survive another day of torment."
Apollo looked like he wanted to interject, but I wasn't finished yet. "The point is that Krios used to taunt me with the knowledge that the sarcophagus' magic was the only thing keeping me alive. I used to think that meant that without my nightly healing, all the torture wounds he'd inflicted on me would reopen and I would bleed out. And as far as I know, that is what happened the night I fought Krios, at least according to you. You and Artemis were able to seal them with your own healing magic, so I figured that was that. But ever since I woke up this morning, I've felt an ache throughout my whole body, and it grew more pronounced as the day went on, until what happened in the woods."
"The pain that I felt when I collapsed… that was more intense than anything Krios ever did to me. Between that, Krios' comments, and those guarded looks of yours I've caught over the past day… I figured there had to be something else going on. Something worse, that Krios obviously knew about. Give me a straight answer, Apollo, because I know you know, too. Am I dying?" I suppose it was a little risky talking so disrespectfully to a god, but at this point, I was beyond caring. I knew he was hiding something, and if it had something to do with what was happening to me, you could be gods-damned sure I was going to get it out of him.
All the fight seemed to drain out of him, and once again, his face settled into an expressionless mask. "Yes, you are dying," he said flatly.
So there it was, the answer I'd been dreading. "I see." I paused. "How?"
"Your body is being destroyed by a potent poison. The most deadly poison I've ever seen, in fact, and I've only known it to come from one source. But it doesn't just affect your body; it corrodes your soul, your very life force. For years, it was dormant in your blood, but over time, its power has grown with yours. The symptoms should have started to manifest years ago, but Krios' sarcophagus magic held it back once it had the strength to actually start causing damage. That kind of Titan magic, though… it's not meant for mortals. I suspect that even though it held the toxin in stasis, that likely caused its power to compound and build up, like water behind a dam. Now that the dam is broken, the pressure is released and the river is starting to flow faster and stronger than ever. The poison will begin feeding on your soul. I have a feeling, based on what happened today, that it already has. Eventually, it will completely dissolve your soul, and you will simply… fade into oblivion."
If you believe all that baloney about the truth setting you free, I should have been happy to accept my fate and move on. In a way, I suppose I did. But there was something about the inevitability of Apollo's statement – I was going to die, and soon – that made it difficult to fully comprehend. I had suspected, of course, but hearing it spoken out loud didn't make me feel better. It just made me feel numb.
Was this someone's idea of a cruel joke? After all I'd been through at the hands of Krios, I'd finally managed to escape his clutches, only to find out I was going to die anyway.
I managed to find my voice and asked the million-drachma question. "How long do I have?"
The sun god wouldn't meet my eyes. "If you were to lay in bed, expending no energy… maybe a week? It should have been longer, but like I said… Krios' magic has unnaturally caused the poison's power to build like pressurized gas in a valve, and it's become much stronger than it should be."
A week. I had a week left to live. What are you supposed to say to something like that?
Apollo seemed like he, too, was grasping for something to say. He slumped down into the chair next to my bed. He tried to resort to faux cheerfulness. "It could be worse, right?" he offered. I stared at him and raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you could be spending it unconscious or in excruciating pain, like…" he trailed off as he realized he wasn't really helping, and I continued to glare at him. He sighed. "Arrin, I'm sorry, alright? I'm not good at this kind of thing. I don't like knowing you have an injury I can't do anything to heal."
I couldn't help but laugh hoarsely at him. "So this is about your pride now?"
He shook his head and sighed again. "You know that's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
He finally looked up. "I just meant… I feel responsible for you. I'm the god of healing, and knowing that someone I care for is right here in front of me, dying of a wound I can't heal…" I understood. This must be almost as bad for him as it was for me…. who am I kidding? No one had it worse than me. But I've never been one for self-pity, and I couldn't help but get hung up on something he'd said.
I feel responsible for you. I was reminded of our conversation when I woke up in his cabin the last time, recovering from my reopened torture wounds. He'd talked about how he'd needed to hide his identity because he'd broken the Ancient Laws in order to watch over me and raise me. I couldn't help but wonder about the reason for the obligation he felt towards me. Well, now that I knew my days were numbered, I guess it was as good a time to ask as any.
"Apollo," I said, "Why is it that you feel responsible for me? What about me could have possibly convinced you to so blatantly disregard the Ancient Laws just to take care of me?"
The sun god, still lounging uncomfortably in the chair, seemed to age ten years. Then I realized his human form actually was aging, and it didn't even look like he noticed it was happening. He ran a hand through his suddenly gray-streaked blond hair and rubbed his temples. The twilight began to fade as the world transitioned fully into night, so Apollo waved his hand at the fire pit and the embers reignited.
"This is going to be a lot to take in," he warned. "But given the circumstances, I think you deserve to know the truth." He looked up from the fire pit and met my eyes, sky-blue to silver. "Before I start, I want you to tell me something, Arrin." I nodded and motioned for him to go on. "Haven't you ever wondered why you feel so at home in the woods, hunting? How you can summon your katana, and especially your bow and arrows? Haven't you ever questioned why the moon seems to fill you with energy?"
I snorted. "What kind of question is that? Of course I have." I felt a knot begin to form in my gut as I thought I was starting to realize where this was headed.
"I'd be surprised if you weren't starting to slowly figure it out on your own." Damn him, he's good. "The reason you can do all those things is because they are aspects of your Olympian parent, your mother. You can feel the song of the Hunt – the capital-h Hunt. And I don't think you need me to remind you of the goddess who controls those domains, do you?"
Too right he didn't. I thought back to when I'd fought the dracanae; I hadn't been paying enough attention to notice it at the time, but the leader had called me "moon spawn." The light bulb went off. I shook my head. "That's impossible," I said. "She's a maiden goddess. You do know the terms maiden and mother are mutually exclusive, right?"
Apollo rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Of course I know that. Nonetheless, Artemis is your mother. You asked me why I've gone to such lengths to care for you… now you know. You're my sister's son." I let that sink in for a minute. I must have had an incredulous look on my face (can you blame me?), because Apollo continued, "Oh, come on, Arrin. My sister and I are gods; is the idea of immaculate birth such an outlandish concept?"
It wasn't, really. There were definitely stranger things I could come up with. I think part of me just didn't want to accept the fact that the man-hating, eternal virgin goddess of the moon was actually my mother. She must find it insulting; immaculate conception or no, to have a child as a maiden goddess, and a male one at that… was that why she had ignored me all these years?
"It's not like that," Apollo said suddenly.
I scowled at him. "You know I don't like it when you do that. It's an invasion of privacy."
He shrugged. "She doesn't think you're an insult, and she hasn't been ignoring you. It's just that…ah… she may not exactly be, uh, aware of your existence." He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.
Alright, I admit, I was thoroughly confused now. It was one thing to wrap my head around the idea of a virgin goddess being my mother, but now he expected me to believe she didn't even know I'd been born (if indeed I was "born")? Besides, she was the one who found me in the woods during my fight with Krios. I said as much to Apollo.
"That's true," the sun god acknowledged. "But she didn't know who you were. She still doesn't. She called me to heal you, and as soon as I saw it was you, I carried you back here before she could figure anything out."
"You were actively hiding my identity from her? Why?"
He pondered something for a second before seemingly coming to a decision. "I know it's a lot to comprehend, and explaining the rest would take too long, so I have a better idea. Instead of telling you, I'll show you."
I swear, this day was getting weirder and weirder. "How exactly do you plan to do that?"
"Well, it's a bit like what I do when I read your mind, except that instead of entering yours, I'll be inviting you to mine and sharing my memories. Make sense?"
"Not really."
"Eh, it will once you're inside my head."
"You know, I'm not entirely sure I want to be inside your head."
"Har har," Apollo grumbled. He sobered abruptly. "Actually, that reminds me. The truth about your birth… I can't promise you're going to like what you see. I have an inkling of how you're feeling" – he couldn't, really, but I decided not to mention that – "and if you need some time to digest everything that's already come up today, I can understand. So before I share this with you, I need to know: are you sure you want to do this?"
"Well, let's see." I did my best to sound upbeat as I pretended to think for a minute. "I've just found out that I've got approximately a week to live and that my mother is Artemis, the maiden goddess of the Hunt – who, coincidentally, doesn't even know I exist. I really don't think one more earth-shattering revelation is going to be too much for me to handle."
My words had been sarcastic, but there was underlying truth in them, and Apollo seemed to recognize that. He nodded. "Alright then," he said. "This is going to feel… a little weird." He reached out his hand and pressed it carefully to my forehead. I felt a disorienting sense of vertigo as the world blurred and spun around me, Apollo's memories streaming into my mind.
