Chapter 39: Silver Shadows
Artemis paced along the edge of the clearing, her silver cloak billowing behind her as the Hunters watched in tense silence. The sacred glade, hidden deep within the wilderness, had always been a place of solace for her. But tonight, it offered no comfort.
Something was wrong.
She had felt it the moment Percy had descended into Tartarus. A terrible, gnawing sensation had rooted itself in her chest, an unfamiliar weight of unease. She had tried to ignore it at first, telling herself that Percy was strong—that he had survived against impossible odds before.
But the connection between them, the unspoken thread that had woven itself through their fates, was screaming at her now. Something had happened.
He was in danger.
"Artemis?" Thalia stepped forward, her expression unreadable, though the concern in her eyes was unmistakable. "You've been restless since he left. You feel it, don't you?"
Artemis clenched her fists, stopping her pacing as she turned to face the daughter of Zeus. "Something has gone wrong," she admitted. "Percy is suffering."
The words felt foreign on her tongue. The idea of someone like Percy—someone so full of defiance, of life—being hurt, being trapped, sent a sharp pain through her.
Thalia folded her arms. "Then let's do something about it. You know he would never leave you down there if the roles were reversed."
Artemis inhaled sharply. That was the problem, wasn't it? Percy had a habit of sacrificing himself for others. He had thrown himself into Tartarus alone because he thought it was the only way. Because he refused to let her take on that burden.
Foolish. Infuriating.
And yet, she could not bear the thought of losing him.
"Running in blind would be reckless," Artemis said, though her voice lacked conviction. "Charging into Tartarus without a plan would do nothing but get us both captured or worse."
"But you will act," Thalia said. It wasn't a question.
Artemis exhaled sharply, her silver eyes flashing in the dim moonlight. "I will not sit idle while he is tormented."
A murmur rippled through the Hunters. They were loyal to her, of course, but Percy was no ordinary mortal. He was an anomaly, someone who had earned their cautious respect—even if they still regarded his presence with skepticism.
And yet, the look in Artemis's eyes was enough. The Hunters nodded in silent agreement.
"What do you need us to do?" Thalia asked.
Artemis took a deep breath, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest. "Gather what information you can. I will go to Olympus and demand an audience with the gods."
Thalia frowned. "You think they'll help?"
"No," Artemis admitted, her voice colder now. "But they will listen. They must listen."
Because if Olympus thought they could ignore this—if Zeus believed she would simply let Percy Jackson be lost to Tartarus without consequence—then they had gravely underestimated her.
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