Finally, we have chapter 20!

Whoohoo! *dances around crazily*

Okay, I won't spoil it too muc, but I REALLY need names for the sequel to this!

Read, and then think!

Disclaimer: I own only my Ocs and my words

Chapter 20: Epic—Fail

Confession time: my plain did not work.

I had planned to find the nearest wooded area and then wait until nightfall.

What actually happened was I found the nearest wooded area and was . . . you know . . . kind of . . . shot down . . .

I guess I was expecting it; a bedraggled thing with a slightly misshapen wing and loads of cuts and injuries and stuff.

The arrow had shot out of the trees and got me in the thigh. It had a silver shaft. A Hunter arrow.

I plummeted to the ground. I had been through a lot of pain, but until now, I haven't been shot with a barbed arrow. Let alone an arrow. Barbed arrows are meant for the kill. Well, you can see where that got me. [Do you really have to smirk like that? Hey, I'm the one with smart-aleck responses!]

I smashed into the ground shoulder-first. Luckily it was mud, a great cushion. I rolled onto my side and made sure I kept my wing from getting squashed. It was sure to shatter if I lay on it.

A girl looked out from the trees. She had dark hair braided back and wore a silvery tiara thing. She had her bow aimed at me with a nocked arrow. I could tell she was aiming for between the eyes.

I looked at her. Sure, she was a hunter, but . . . she was different.

"Please," I said. "I'm not in that much pain."

She kept her bow up, but I could tell her arm was trembling. Her instincts were telling her to shoot, but her mind was telling her not to.

"What is thy name?" she asked. She had a faint accent, slightly Greek, I thought.

I looked at her. For once I decided that I should come straight out, with my life on the line and all. [Yeah, very funny.]

"Blackjack," I said. Her eyes narrowed. "All of thy name, please."

"Blackjack . . . Night Pegasus?"

Her bow lowered. "Forgive me for shooting thou. Thou looked in pain, so I raised thine bow . . ."

I was getting confused with all the old words. "It's okay."

No, Blackjack, it isn't, my conscience yelled. Sure, the arrow was producing so much pain that my vision seemed to be short-circuiting, but hey, all in a day's work, right? [OW!]

Throbbing pain was bouncing through me. It seemed to resonate through every fibre I had in me. I looked at the girl, who was advancing slowly, her knives drawn.

She knelt next to the protruding arrow. "It is against thy rules of thine Hunt not to kill thee right now."

"Yeah, well, I have a lot of people thinking I'm already dead, and I like proving people wrong."

She pressed a hand against the uninjured part of the leg, and in a quick flash she cut the arrow out.

Extreme pain went for a second, but then it passed and lessened to an irritating throb. She's cut the arrow out so precisely that there was hardly a cut.

She pressed some silver paste into the wound and muttered something in Ancient Greek. I didn't see how it helped, but the paste hardened on the top like a bandage.

"I told you my name," I said. "What's yours?"

She pursed her lips and put her knives away. "I do not fraternise with males."

"What? Oh, right—Hunter. No, I mean . . . besides, you shot me, you owe me that, and that only."

She studied my eyes. I guess she was looking for a lie. "I am Zoë Nightshade," she said. "Perhaps you know what I am, Night Pegasus. I have worked with Nyx in the past."

"You're . . ." I thought of what Nyx had said, back in that fight with Nemesis; something about sunsets . . .

"You're a Hesperide; a sunset-nymph."

Zoë nodded slowly. "And you are a Pegasus of Nyx. If you are who I think you are, you should know this: the sunset is the one crossover between the day and night; where the sun hesitates."

She stood up and began to walk away. As she began to disappear, she looked back. "And you know, you're the first creature to get me talking in the modern way," she said. Then she got a faraway look in her eyes. "When you see my sisters, tell them . . . tell them that they were right, and that I was right also, and that the sunset is us because we are the hesitation, and that sometimes . . . the night . . . can be truly strong," for a moment she smiled.

Then she disappeared into the undergrowth.

I lay there for a long time. I was expecting something, I didn't know what, but I was.

I looked up at the moon, so far away in the night. I looked up at the moon, and it looked back at me.

An arrow whizzed past me.

I jumped to my feet, grimacing as I put weight on my hind right leg—the injured one.

I noticed something: is there anything on me that's not injured? [Stop sniggering.]

Another girl walked into the clearing. Another Hunter. Except this one wasn't holding her bow at me. She looked about 13 at the oldest, with wavy auburn hair and strange, silvery eyes.

She walked forward, a smile on her face.

"Hello, Night Pegasus—or do you prefer Blackjack?"

"You know, you're the first person to ask me that," I commented. She gave a small, light laugh. "But I prefer Blackjack."

"Hmm," she said. "And I would prefer Artemis, from you. I prefer Lady Artemis from my maidens . . . but from you, Artemis."

"What makes me so special?"

Artemis rocked on her feet like a normal teen. "Oh . . . because you have the blessing of Nyx? No, because . . . you seem to have liberated my lieutenant. And . . . you seem to have earned it. Now, all I can say is that, since you seemed to have healed Zoe, I will heal your wing, which Nyx said required my help."

"Well . . . she said it needed to be healed with another . . . so . . ."

Artemis opened out my wing. "Well, that's a bit of a bad break. Now, let's see . . ."

She traced her finger along the wing arm. Immediately it began to straighten out, and the feathers line up again. She made a short snort of approval. "This is the work of my brother, is it not? Only Ares can make such bad breaks."

"Sure is. Do you know what . . . ?"

"Happened to him? For you, nothing—for having inside information about my father's masterbolt? Well . . . let's say it wasn't pleasant."

She took a step back as I gave my wing a few practice flaps. I grinned. "Good as new."

"I'm afraid I can't heal your spirit, however. Kronos excels at breaking spirits. How you survived I shall never know. But, I am feeling generous, is there anything you would like to wish upon the moon?"

I looked up at her young face. A three-millennia-old goddess as an early teen—that was new.

"Just . . . just look after Percy, in a way, I guess. Well . . . he can look after himself . . . just not from you guys."

"Ah, Percy. Poseidon's son. Yes, I was planning on doing that anyway. Anything else? I had that planned already."

"No. I already have what I want, thanks."

She nodded. "Then, be off with you, Camp and your family await."

I spread my wings. "Thank you . . . Artemis."

"For once I mean it when I say you're welcome. From what the Fates have planned for you, you being a male I cannot care less about."

Before I could wonder about what she'd just said, I jumped into the air. She said Kronos had broken my spirit.

Then I would just have to get it back.

I flew across the country all through the night. I'd left San Francisco far behind.

Without the ache in my wing, I felt great.

Just one problem: I couldn't fly right.

Every time a wind blew at me, I was stuck taking the blow of it. That wasn't me. Usually I'd do something stupid and dangerous, like let the wind catch in my wings and throw me backwards, which would cause a backflip that I would then dive from. I wouldn't just stay there and take it.

Why had all that been crushed? Why . . . why did it have to be me? What made me so special? Was it because my dad had been an idiot and met a Greek Pegasus when he was Roman? Was it because I was an everything- and-a-nothing?

Yeah, that's why. I was a horse, a land creature, created by the god of the sea, with wings of an eagle, a sky creature, with a Greek mother, and a Roman father.

Because I was blessed by the night, and entangled with the sun.

I don't know why, but that thought made me cry.

I always thought I was an everything.

And I was.

But I was a nothing as well, because all those things had nothing at all in common. They were just a bunch of loose ideas.

That's what I was: a manifestation of loose ideas.

I was a Blackjack.

Ta-da!

That was kinda depressing way to finish, but I had to somehow show that Kronos had got to him.

And yes, that has an effect, but it gets better.

Have any of you figured out the whole 'sun' thing? Because if you haven't I would be as surprised if I was if Percy died in the MoA.

Okay, I have a question:

Do you like Percy or Jason better?

Me? DEFINITELY PERCY!

Until the next chapter,

-Owl

Please R&R!