(Percy is 9 years old)
The girl with dark-brown eyes didn't wait for me to adjust. She grabbed my wrist—her grip colder than the rain—and started dragging me toward the treeline. I stumbled after her, my legs still numb from standing in the surf for what felt like hours.
"Wait!" I yanked my arm back, but she didn't let go. "Who is Artemis? Can I get my mom back? What was that—"
"Silence." She spun around, her hood slipping just enough to reveal a face that looked like it'd been carved from marble. "You ask questions like a mortal. But you are not mortal, are you, Percy Jackson?"
I froze. "Wait… that's the second time you've called me Percy; how do you know my name? What is a mortal?"
She ignored me, scanning the beach behind us. The rain had turned the sand into a muddy mess, but I could still see the jagged trench where the monster's tail had dug into the ground. My stomach churned.
"The drakon will return," she said, pulling me forward again. "Its kind does not leave prey unfinished."
"Prey?" I dug my heels into the sand. "My mom's not prey! She's—"
"Gone." The word cut through me like one of the monster's teeth. "And you will join her if you stay here. Move."
I wanted to argue. To scream. To punch her perfect, icy face. But the trees ahead rustled, and suddenly there were more of them—girls in silver jackets, their bows drawn, arrows tipped with metal that glowed faintly in the storm.
"Zoe," one of them hissed, a girl with freckles and red hair escaping her hood. "You're bringing a boy?"
"Quiet, Phoebe." Zoe shoved me toward the group. "He's the child Artemis told us about. She will decide his fate. For now, he comes."
The Hunters parted like I was an anomaly, their eyes narrowed behind their hoods in suspicion or curiosity. One of them—a tall girl with braids—sniffed the air and grimaced. "He smells like seawater... Why would Lady Artemis waste her time on him?"
"Do not question her," Zoe snapped, though her voice wavered just enough that I noticed. She gently nudged me forward. "Walk. And do not speak unless spoken to child."
The forest swallowed us whole.
...
The woods weren't like the parks Mom used to take me to. These trees loomed taller, their branches tangled into a roof that blocked most of the storm. Roots twisted across the ground like sleeping snakes, and the air smelled like wet earth and something sharp—like the time I'd accidentally licked a battery.
I tripped every three steps. My sneakers were caked in mud, and my jeans clung to my legs, heavy with rain. The Hunters moved like shadows, their footsteps silent even on the crunchy leaves. I tried to copy them, but my feet splashed in every puddle.
"Must you stomp?" the redhead—Phoebe—muttered as I slipped on a mossy rock.
"I'm not stomping!" I shot back, my face hot. "It's not my fault you're all… ninjas or something!"
Zoe whirled around, her silver eyes flashing. "You will keep quiet unless you wish to attract more monsters. Or do you want to meet another drakon?"
I shut my mouth.
We walked for what felt like hours. The Hunters didn't stop, not even when my stomach started growling loud enough to scare birds out of the trees. I thought about the peanut butter sandwich Mom had packed for our beach trip, still sitting in her bag at the edge of the shore. Had the monster eaten that too?
"Here," a voice whispered.
I looked up to see the braided girl—the one who'd complained about my smell—holding out a strip of dried meat. Her face was still scowling, but her eyes flicked to my stomach as it growled again.
"Uh… thanks?" I took it hesitantly. It looked like leather but tasted salty and weirdly sweet.
"Do not thank me," she said, adjusting her quiver. "I only offer it because your whining is unbearable."
I chewed slower after that.
...
By the time we stopped, the storm had quieted to a drizzle. The group of Hunters spilled into a small clearing, filled with what must've been the majority of their group, all moving sharp and efficiently as they set up camp. Some strung bows between trees to hang cloaks. Others pulled knives from their belts and started skinning rabbits faster than I could blink.
I sat on a mossy log, my sneakers squelching with every shift. My hoodie reeked of seaweed and sweat, a sharp contrast to the Hunters' crisp, pine-scented cloaks. They kept their distance, but their glances weren't cruel—just guarded, like I was a stray dog they weren't sure they could trust.
The braided girl—Naomi—knelt by the fire, her dagger a blur as she skinned a rabbit. When she caught me staring, her scowl softened into something closer to curiosity.
"See something interesting, boy?"
I flinched. "I was just… How do you do that so fast?"
She held up the dagger, its edge catching the firelight. "Centuries of practice," she said, her tone more matter-of-fact than mocking. "You'll be lucky to skin a potato without losing a finger."
"Centuries?" My voice squeaked. "But you look—"
"Older than your entire bloodline," she interrupted, tossing the rabbit carcass into a pot. "Demigods. Always so surprised by immortality."
I shut up, but not before noticing the faint smirk tugging at her lips.
Zoe appeared beside me, silent as a shadow. She thrust a wooden bowl into my hands—stew filled with chunks of rabbit, wild onions, and herbs that smelled like the forest after rain.
"Eat," she said, her voice clipped but not unkind. "You'll need your strength."
"For what?"
She didn't answer, settling cross-legged on the ground to sharpen a silver arrow. The rhythmic shink-shink of the whetstone grated on my nerves.
I poked at the stew. "Why are you helping me?"
Zoe paused, her silver eyes narrowing. "Artemis commanded it. That's reason enough."
"But you don't like me."
Her lips thinned. "You're a boy. A child. A liability. But…" She hesitated, glancing at the scarred hilt of her dagger. "You lost your mother. That… I understand."
Before I could respond, a howl split the night—low, guttural, and far too close.
The Hunters moved as one. Bows snapped into hands, blades hissed from sheaths, and the firelight glinted off a dozen silver arrowheads.
"Lykanthropos," Naomi hissed, her dagger drawn. "West of the clearing!"
Zoe rose, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Phoebe, perimeter! Naomi, guard the boy!"
"Guard him?" Naomi muttered, but she stepped in front of me, her stance protective.
Another howl echoed, closer this time. The trees shuddered as a wolf lunged into the clearing—monstrous, its shoulders level with mine, yellow eyes burning like twin moons. Saliva dripped from its fangs, sizzling where it hit the ground.
Phoebe's arrow took it through the chest before it took two steps. The beast collapsed, whimpering, as she nocked another arrow. "Pathetic," she muttered, though her eyes darted to the shadows.
Two more wolves burst from the trees. Zoe met the first head-on, her blade a silver arc. The wolf's snarl turned to a gurgle as its head tumbled into the underbrush. The second skidded past her, claws raking the earth as it zeroed in on me.
"Stay down," Naomi barked, shoving me behind her.
The wolf crouched, muscles coiled—
The puddle at my feet erupted. Water surged upward in a coiled whip, slamming into the wolf's muzzle with a crack. It yelped, stumbling back, but the water didn't stop. It twisted like a living thing, wrapping around the beast's legs and yanking it off balance. The wolf crashed into the fire, embers scattering as it howled, fur smoking.
Naomi's dagger slipped in her grip. "What in the name of—?"
The wolf thrashed, but the water held it fast. Zoe's arrow pierced its heart a second later.
Silence fell near them, faint noise could be heard from the other hunters finishing off the remaining wolves.
I stared at my hands, trembling and dripping. The puddle rippled gently, as if nodding at me.
"You…" Phoebe lowered her bow, her freckled face pale but . "You controlled it."
"I didn't mean to!" I backed away, my voice cracking. "It just… happened!"
Zoe stepped forward, her blade still drawn. For once, her icy composure faltered. "The sea answers to him," she murmured, half to herself. "Even here. I have a good idea of what you are now."
I didn't know what that meant, but it made my stomach twist. The puddle rippled gently at my feet, like it was waiting for me to do something else—something more.
"Artemis will want to know when she returns from Olympus," Zoe said finally, turning to Phoebe and Naomi. "Keep watch tonight. If the boy's presence attracts more monsters…" She trailed off, her expression grim.
...
A/N: He's powerful, I'll tell you that much. Comments on pairing suggestions would be great. The hunters evidently don't HATE him. Still debating on how his relationship with Artemis should go.