This story is being re-uploaded for archival purposes.
Originally published in 2016.
Chapter One
I Am Banished
One thing I would not recommend is standing in a freezing cold forest with an ancient goddess staring you down as if she were prepared to smite you at any moment. Okay, maybe the smiting thing was a bit dramatic, but seriously, try it – you'd be begging to find the nearest bathroom, too.
Despite the summer season, northern Canada was still bitingly chilly, and I couldn't help the shiver that passed down my spine, though that also could've been a reaction to the whole "goddess-looking-like-she-were-debating-turning-me-into-a-jackalope" thing. Frost crunched under my boots as I shuffled my feet nervously, the last light of the setting sun bleeding through the trees and turning the woods an eerie gold that looked unnatural. The rays glanced off the bow the goddess was holding, and I eyed it warily. I knew she wouldn't physically harm me, but the sight of it was still enough to make me squirm.
"Have you anything to say for yourself?" Artemis demanded, and I winced at her tone; it was low, full of disappointment and sorrow, and it was infinitely worse than if she had yelled. At least then I would have known she was angry. This hopeless sound of defeat, as if I had taken all her dreams and crushed them, birthed a hot ball of guilt in my belly, and all I could do was bow my head in shame.
"No, my Lady," I whispered, staring down at my boots.
"You will address me when you speak, not the earth."
Artemis was staring hard at me when I looked up, her eyes battling between gold and silver in the fading light. She had reverted from her twelve-year-old form to stand as a tall and formidable grown woman, and I felt like an ant when I met her gaze.
"I have nothing to say," I said, trying hard to keep my voice from shaking. "I know what I did was wrong—"
"Wrong?"
Her voice cracked out like a whip, but still, there was no anger.
"You have broken your oath, Huntress. You untangled the vow of maidenhood you took when you came into my service, and not only have you betrayed me, but all of your sisters, as well."
I blinked back the sudden tears in my eyes furiously. It had been years since I had last cried, and I was determined not to break down in front of the goddess.
"I'm sorry," I said in a small voice.
"Was love really more important to you than your oath? Was he more important than your fellow Hunters, and me?"
"No – I – " I faltered, not knowing what to say as my voice died in my throat.
Artemis looked at me, and her eyes were so full of fractured grief and regret that my breath became caged in my lungs. In one sickening moment, I knew what was coming. I was a traitor, an oath-breaker. And the gods did not take kindly to those who betrayed them.
"I am sorry it must come to this," she whispered. "You may no longer be in my service and continue as a Hunter." She spoke as if every word caused her pain, but it was nothing compared to the hole that was being carved into my heart. "You must forsake your immortality and your sisters and return to mortal life. I…I release you from my service, Charlotte Kemp."
And just like that, I felt it all ripped away from me. My immortality, my power…all of it. Gone. It seemed as if an ugly black mark had appeared on my soul, and I could feel the emptiness of it throbbing, trying to call back what once had harbored there.
"Leave before the night falls," Artemis said. Her voice was now thin and weary, and my heart broke a little more at the defeated expression on her ancient face. "I am truly sorry it had to come to this."
Before I could say anything else, a sharp gust of wind blew through the clearing, and when I blinked, the goddess was gone.
I fell to my knees and wept, bitter tears stinging my cheeks and throat as anger coursed through me – not at the goddess, but at myself.
That was the moment I realized that love would do nothing but destroy you. It was nothing but a trap, and I had fallen for it.
And now I was alone.
I stared up at the looming pine tree above me, watching its branches rock in the gentle breeze and dance in front of the high afternoon sun, dappling the heat of it on my face and speckling the green hill I stood on with shards of light. The breeze brought with it the smell of strawberry fields, and I was suddenly anxious.
I didn't want to be here, but it was one of the only options for someone like me. I was a demigod, that much I knew, and besides the Hunters of Artemis, Camp Half-Blood was one of the very limited safe havens I had left. Still, that didn't mean I had to like it.
I hefted my backpack higher on my shoulder, feeling a few beads of sweat roll down my back. I had tied my jacket around my waist, but the summer air was still far too warm than what I was used to. My newfound lack of immortality wasn't helping much, either. Everything I did now seemed ten times harder than before; running four miles used to be a cinch, a simple little thing to do every morning, but now every time I tried running more than that, my legs turned to lead and my lungs caught fire. My eyesight and hearing had dulled, as well, which was horribly frustrating; I had to be on my guard more than usual now, and for a demigod trying to catch a bus in a major city, I had become more twitchy and paranoid than before. Even the stupid heat was affecting me more than it did when I was a Hunter, but that was mortality for you – it sucked.
Sighing heavily out my nose, I decided to get the ball rolling and set off up the hill, walking in the shadow of the pine tree. I don't know why, but something about it gave me the creeps, and I kept my eyes on my boots until I had crested the hill.
A valley stretched out below me, depicting an idyllic summer camp scene: cabins, canoeing, sand volleyball, a rock wall, you name it. At first glance, it seemed perfectly normal, but if you looked closer you would see the campers training with swords and bows in an open arena, lava pouring down the face of the rock wall, and a pair of Naiads capsizing a canoe full of campers and pitching them into the water.
You know, just your typical demigod summer camp.
I spotted a large farmhouse off to my left, painted sky blue with white trim, and I started toward it, knowing what awaited me. I had been to Camp Half-Blood several times before with the Hunters, but I don't think our visits were ever met with any enthusiasm. Many of our stays had involved very…intense games of capture the flag, and one or more cabins usually caught on fire somehow, but other than that, things went pretty swell. At least, no one had died before, and that was about all you could hope for.
I managed to avoid the campers along my way to the Big House, which I remembered was what they called the farmhouse, and for that I was grateful. I really wasn't looking forward to the awkward stares and endless questions my arrival would bring, but it seemed as if the Fates were on my side just a little as I walked up a short flight of stairs, coming to a stop on the wraparound porch.
The low humming of the ceiling fans above me and the faint buzzing of flies were all that I heard; even the distant shouts of the campers were muted, which sent another rush of frustration through me. On a clear day like this, I could've been able to hear for miles, but now I was reduced to mortal hearing, and the thought did nothing but dampen my already sour mood further.
"AHA!" a sudden voice crowed, and I jumped.
My head swiveled to the right, where the porch wrapped around a corner and led to the eastern side of the house, and I began to walk, following the smug voice.
"I believe that round went to me, Chiron," the voice said, and I wrinkled my nose when I recognized the nasally tenor of Dionysus – or, Mr. D, I remembered. The wine god certainly was not my favorite Olympian by far, but if I wanted to stay here, then I had to be polite and try not to get strangled by grape vines or something.
"I didn't think it possible for you to be any more insufferable than if you had lost, but it seems as if I have been mistaken," the other voice – Chiron – said, and I rounded the corner to see the two men seated at a little wooden table, some mortal game I didn't know the name of in between them.
Mr. D sat with his back to me, wearing a horrendous purple shirt that was so bright it made my eyes water, while Chiron sat across from him, reclining in a wheelchair and taking a sip from the goblet in his hand, obviously not in the mood to be in his centaur form at the moment.
"Ah, don't be a sore loser, Chiron," Mr. D cackled, counting up all his cards and seeming to have missed the implied remark in Chiron's statement. "You know I must celebrate every time I get a hand up on you in this accursed game."
At the mention of a celebration, Mr. D's hand had waved as if on its own accord, and a bottle of red wine had appeared at his elbow, though he immediately exclaimed in false surprise when Chiron cleared his throat pointedly.
"Dear me, I'm terribly sorry," he said, waving his hand again. The wine disappeared to be replaced by a can of Diet Coke, and Chiron rolled his eyes before his gaze landed on me.
"Ah, Miss Kemp!" he greeted, and I stopped awkwardly in my tracks as Mr. D turned to face me, as well. "Welcome. We've been expecting you."
I guess my confusion must have shown on my face, for Chiron smiled kindly at me.
"Word has spread about your dismissal from the company of Artemis," he said, and I winced at the mention of the goddess. "I figured it was only a matter of time before you showed up here."
"Oh," I said, for lack of anything better, and Mr. D snorted.
"Three centuries spent with a goddess, and she still doesn't know how to use manners," he scoffed, and my face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm telling you, Chiron, no one knows how to train a good hero anymore."
"Yes, thank you, Mr. D," Chiron said, looking as if he had to refrain from rolling his eyes again. "Come inside, Miss Kemp; we can discuss more in there."
I followed him inside, Mr. D grumbling behind me as he came, too, and I tried not to feel like I was being led to the gallows as the patio door slammed shut behind me.
After I had told them everything, I waited silently in one of the plush armchairs I was seated in, picking at a loose blue thread poking out of the arm.
Chiron and Mr. D seemed to be having some sort of wordless conversation with each other, and I wondered how that was possible before I remembered that Mr. D was a god. I guess the ugly shirt and Diet Coke can made me forget.
Finally, after an agonizing fifteen minutes had passed, Chiron cleared his throat, and I looked up from where I had been pulling the thread with apprehension, meeting the centaur's dark eyes, but they were unreadable.
"Mr. D and I have decided that you can be allowed to stay here," he said, and equal parts relief and anxiety rushed through me. "For now, you will be staying in Cabin 12, until you are claimed by your godly parent."
"Why can't I stay in Cabin 8?" I asked, before realizing how utterly stupid of a question that was. Did the word traitor ring any bells?
"That cabin is reserved for the Hunters of Artemis only," Mr. D said bluntly. "And considering you've been – what do the kids say these days? – dumped, you're to join the Hermes cabin."
I swallowed back my annoyance at the god, only nodding. "Okay. What else?"
Chiron shrugged.
"For now, nothing," he said. "You will remain here at Camp Half-Blood for the time being; you will train, you will participate in camp activities, and perhaps one day you may even be granted a quest if fortune has it. You may leave when you wish, of course, but I'm sure you are aware of the dangers a demigod faces out in the mortal world on their own."
I nodded again, suppressing a shudder. I had been lucky enough not to be attacked outright on my journey from Canada to New York, but I knew I was being watched anywhere I went. Monsters were attracted to the scent of demigods like flies to garbage, and unfortunately, I was the garbage in this situation.
"All right," I said, before inhaling deeply and turning to Mr. D. "Can I ask you a favor?"
Mr. D raised his brows, taking his time swallowing the sip of Diet Coke in his mouth as he looked me over lazily as if deciding if I were worth his time. The thought made me clench my fists, but I forced myself to relax.
"Depends," the god said. "If you're looking for someone to give you your immortality back, I'm afraid that's out of the question."
"No, not immortality," I said. Sweat began to slick my palms, but I had thought long and hard about this. It wouldn't make up for what I did by a long shot, but maybe it could be a step in the right direction. I had to try.
"I want you to de-age me."
Chiron showed no outward signs of surprise, but his right eyebrow inched up infinitesimally. Mr. D choked a bit on his drink, and after a few moments of coughing and spluttering, he took one look at me and started laughing.
"You want me to – what?" He threw back his head and guffawed. "Oh, you mortals – this is the reason why I find you all so endearing sometimes. Do I look like a wish-fulfilling factory, girl?"
I shook my head, biting my tongue. It wouldn't help my situation if I started going off on a god, no matter how childish and annoying they were.
Mr. D wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling.
"I'm amused now," he said, waving me on to continue. "Speak, girl; I want to know why you want me to do this for you."
"As punishment," I said without hesitation, and now both men looked intrigued. "Lady Artemis could've punished me herself, but she didn't. I – I don't want to sound too hopeful, or arrogant, but I think she already felt sorry enough for me. I'm not asking you to change me back to a baby or something. Just a few years. While I'm here, I want to work and try and redeem myself. I know she can never forgive me for all that I've done, but I at least want to show her that I'm willing to try. Please."
Mr. D looked me over, all the mirth gone from his features. He seemed to be contemplating my words.
"How old were you when she granted you immortality?" he asked.
"Sixteen. Sir," I added politely if only to appease him.
"And you want to be de-aged by how many years?"
"Just a few. Three or four, at the most."
"The average age of most Hunters when they join," said Chiron shrewdly, and I nodded, my heart pounding.
He glanced at Mr. D, and the two seemed to have another silent conversation before Mr. D heaved a laborious sigh.
"Very well," he said, sounding bored once more. "I'll do it; but if you get on my nerves like the rest of those twelve-year-old brats, I'll turn you into a dolphin."
"Got it," I said. "Er, what should I do—"
My question was abruptly cut off as Mr. D snapped his fingers, and I was suddenly coated in some weird mist that smelled vaguely of grapes. When it dissipated, I was considerably shorter, and my clothes now sagged uncomfortably on my skinnier frame, and I knew it had been done. I was twelve years old again.
"Well," Chiron said, clapping his hands, "now that that's taken care of, let's get you settled in, Miss Kemp. Welcome back to Camp Half-Blood."