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May 11

The Hunter - Chapter 10: Honesty

The Hunter - Chapter 10 - ArrowsofMoonlight - Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan [Archive of Our Own]

A giant wooden horse; hollow and filled with Achaean soldiers.

Was that truly all it took? A single artificial steed, crafted from cannibalized ship parts and left on the beach for the Trojans to find. All on the slim chance that their adversaries would bring it through the city’s gates and leave it there unguarded, instead of burning it where it stood. Zoë wasn’t sure what bothered her more; that the plan was so ridiculous in nature, or that she let it succeed on her watch. Whatever the case, it was difficult to keep breakfast down the next morning. Everything tasted so bitter.

And, clearly, she was not alone in her feelings, if her sisters’ demeanor was any indication. The downcast stares; the picked at food; the complete silence, save for the occasional crackle from the fire. None of them were used to losing. Sure, not every hunt went to plan. There were days where injuries or poor weather got the better of them, and nights when they returned home with fewer hunters than they had left with. But that was never the end. For tomorrow would be a new day, and with it, a chance at redemption. Or at the very least, closure.

But Troy was different. Artemis had ordered them to defend the city, and now that city had fallen. Wiped off the face of the earth as if it never existed, taking every soul that still resided within its walls down with it. There was no lesson to be learned here, and no second chances. They had failed their lady. And nothing they could do would ever change that.

Still, the prospect of a new hunt was appealing. Enough to get through breakfast anyway. Once they finished off the rations Artemis had so generously provided, and the injured were brought back on their feet by ambrosia, the energy started to pick up around camp. Conversation began naturally as they helped each other out of their armor, storing it away in their enchanted packs with a smile. Zoë couldn’t help but stretch when she finally changed back into her normal hunting garb. She had forgotten how light it was or rather, how heavy her armor had been. A weight she was all too happy to be rid of.

Once everyone had been fed and the fire doused, the wilds were theirs again. Artemis led the group with a ferocity that Zoë had never seen, desperate to make up for lost time. They ran through the forest with no restraints; one prey chased down, then another and another; on and on until their quivers were empty and they could finally rest. It was everything their goddess’s domain had to offer, taken to the extreme, and everything Zoë had longed to return to. And with each step, Troy slipped further and further from her mind. Exactly what they needed.

Or at least, it was what most of the hunt needed. For Iphigenia, the intensity seemed crushing. It was easy to forget that, even after a decade of service, the girl had never hunted before. And while Artemis’s blessing kept her from falling behind, and the other hunters offered constant reassurance and support, it was simply too much for the young girl to handle. While the rest of the hunt spent their nights reveling in comradery and victorious feasting, their youngest sister grew increasingly quiet and reserved, withering before their very eyes. To Zoë it was obvious that the girl desperately needed help.

Yet Artemis still pressed on as if nothing was wrong. Not from a lack of care, Zoë would never dare suggest that Artemis didn’t care for her hunters, she knew her goddess better than that, but from a blind spot in her lady’s perception. She trusted that such a lapse was only temporary, and that the problem would be noticed and delt with in time. When three days passed and nothing changed, she decided she could wait no longer. Zoë entered her lady’s tent shortly after dinner, intending to press the issue herself.

Inside, she found Artemis in the middle of one of her nightly rituals, sharpening her hunting knives by the fire. Each pass punctuated by the sound of celestial bronze scraping against stone. It was slow, rhythmic work, and if the trance like stare in her patron’s eyes was any indication, very relaxing. A perfect task for such late hours.

“Would you have a moment to speak, my lady?”

“Please. It’s been far too long.” Artemis didn’t look up, only tiled her head to the pillow on her right, an invitation Zoë took without hesitation, crossing her legs on the soft surface as she settled beside her. “Though, I imagine you’re here for more than just casual conversation.”

Of course. Zoë thought, resisting the urge to shake her head fondly. If only her lady could read every hunter so accurately.

“Unfortunately. I could not help but notice Iphigenia struggling over the past few days. We need to slow down, for her sake, or I fear her condition will only worsen.”

Artemis nodded, bringing one of her blades up to eye level, as she carefully inspected the edge. “She told you this?”

“No, my lady. She did not have to. I have never seen the girl so overwhelmed.”

“Hmmm.” The scraping sound returned, as Artemis thought it over. Zoë was certain that the idea of a hunt being anything but exhilarating was difficult for her to understand. She did not just enjoy hunting; she was the hunt. It would be like a mortal suffering from too much air; an impossibility. But eventually, her hands stopped and she set her blades away with a sigh, finally looking up at her huntress.

“I must have gotten carried away.” She muttered. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, my nightshade.”

Any joy or pride the title should have brought was soured by the disappointment in her lady’s tone; not at Iphigenia for her struggles, but at herself for not addressing them sooner. Disappointment Zoë hoped to sooth with a gentle touch to her hand and sympathetic smile. “I am certain you would have noticed eventually.”

She shook her head. “Not soon enough…..” The room grew silent again, as Artemis took a moment to consider their options. “I am needed on Olympus in two days; we should have enough food to rest until then. Once I return, we can work on a more permanent solution. I don’t want such problems festering again.”

“Olympus? Is the solstice not months away?”

“Emergency meeting to officially end the war.” Artemis turned her hand, taking Zoë’s hand in hers with a gentle squeeze. “You were invited as well, if you’d like to join me.”

Join her…on Olympus. “Are...are you certain that’s wise?”

“Considering it was Athena’s recommendation, quite certain. She believes that having a representative from the Trojan forces would help ease some of the tension from those of us on the losing side. And you’ve more than earned the recognition.” She must have sensed her companion’s growing concern, as she quickly added. “Of course, if you don’t wish to attend, I will support that decision entirely”

Truly, Zoë did not wish to go. She had already made an enemy of Queen Hera and Apollo’s incessant flirting each time he visited his sister’s hunters wasn’t exactly pleasing either. If the rest of the Olympians were like them, she’d be better off staying home. For her own sanity, if nothing else.

But as she thought about it more, she couldn’t take her mind off of the trip there. The two of them, alone in the goddess’s chariot, with the stars above their only witness. The perfect opportunity to tell her everything.

“When do we leave?”

________________________________________________________________

Zoë turned the helm in her hands, fingers ghosting over the small imperfections in the bronze. One last check, before they were off. Two days of rest were gone, spent entirely on getting her thoughts together while polishing her armor to a mirror shine. Preparations for Artemis and the Olympians. And yet, she still felt uncertain, and found herself wishing she had more time. Even if she didn’t know what she’d do with it.

“Ready to go?” Zoë looked up, meeting a sharp pair of silver eyes that shined in the firelight. Eyes that looked at her with such pride. Eyes that would never see her the same way again.

She committed the image to memory, as she stood and donned her helm. When she finished, she looked down at her goddess, all worries masked behind a polite smile. “As ready as I can be.”

They arrived at the chariot at dusk; Artemis taking the driver’s position, with Zoë right beside her. The space was much more suitable for two people than it had been for a dozen or so hunters, but it still forced them to be close. And once they were airborne, there would be no escape. Exactly what Zoë wanted. But the trip to Olympus was not as expected. For with one flick of the reins a silver light overtook them, forcing her to close her eyes. The chariot began to move beneath them and Zoë braced for a wind that would never come. Instead, there was a sudden pressure and the painful feeling of her head being squeezed from the inside. One that was relieved only slightly when her ears popped. Before the feeling became unbearable, the light subsided, taking the pressure with it. When she opened her eyes again, the chariot had already landed; nestled comfortably between the foliage behind a matching silver temple. She blinked, certain only a minute or so had passed, yet here they were. On Olympus, under the full light of day. It made her head spin more than their journey already had.

“Are you alright?” Artemis asked, trying the reins to front of her chariot before wrapping an arm around the shoulders of her disoriented companion.

Zoë swallowed and nodded, leaning into her goddess’s steading touch. “I was not aware your chariot could travel so quickly.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I was hoping we would have the chance to speak.” She tilted her head just enough to meet her goddess’s eyes. “About my life before we met.”

The arm around her tightened, pulling her close as the goddess blessed her with a smile that could only be described as warm. “We’ll have to take our time on the way home, then. It seems we have much to discuss. But first…” She tapped the back of Zoë’s breastplate as she pulled back her arm. “We have a meeting to attend.”

Together, they disembarked, Artemis leading them to the council chambers, giving Zoë the opportunity to take in their surroundings. Though the temple in front of them was mostly silver it was adorned with endless carvings; images of hunters and prey, brought to life with immaculate paintwork. Much of it was too high up on the columns to make out completely but was beautiful none the less. She couldn’t help but wonder what the inside looked like, as they walked by. A curiosity to be answered on a future visit, perhaps.

Once they exited the tree covered path along the temple and reached the main road, Zoë got her first glimpses of Olympus proper. There were temples and palaces as far as the eye could see, all treated with the same loving craftmanship as Artemis’s. Each one painted and styled to match their patron’s preferences. Even the streets weren’t spared, as she looked down to find white marble lined with ivory and gold. It was both opulent and reflective of the beings who resided there; the intense egos of the most powerful gods in existence, all fighting for attention. Compared to the uniform black marble of Mt. Othrys, it was almost unbearable to look at.

“It’s a bit much, is it not?”

Artemis laughed. “Honestly, for my family, it may not be enough. Come, and stay close, we still have a ways to go”.

They continued walking forward and upward, until they at last reached the council chambers at the peak of the mountain. What they found behind that final set of doors put the rest of Olympus to shame. Not in decoration, or in wealth, but in sheer power. Twelve towering thrones, set in a half circle around a large hearth. Illuminated not just by the fire, but by stars so close they appeared to be hung on the ceiling itself. Zoë glanced around the room discretely, taking mental note of each of the gods present. As the very embodiment of their domains, each was recognizable on sight, though the statues she had seen of them in the mortal world didn’t do them justice. Ares and Athena were each dressed in armor, eternally prepared for war. Demeter sat on a golden throne of intricately braided wheat stalks, each one ripe and ready for harvest. Hestia tended to the hearth in the center of the room, no longer given a seat of her own, but still held in a position of honor amongst her family. Apollo waved excitedly to his sister as they arrived, as all others seemed too preoccupied to notice.

Hera looked exactly as Zoë remembered, large dark brown eyes, well-kept black hair, a crown displayed proudly atop her head. But today she looked…happy, happier than Zoë had ever seen her. Up there on her throne, she was commanding, victorious, and perhaps most importantly, the very center of her husband’s attention. Everything a queen should be. The look must have been longer than Zoë had intended as, before she could look away, the queen turned, their brown eyes meeting. The moment was fleeting, and nothing about Hera’s demeanor changed, as she quickly turned back to her husband to continue their conversation, unabated. Still Zoë couldn’t shake the feeling that she had walked into a trap.

With a deep breath, she turned back to Artemis, head held high. She had been invited here for her service to her new lady after all, not her old one. And while that service was far from perfect, it was nothing to be ashamed of. She returned to her side as her lady increased in size to take her own seat of power, with Zoë standing respectfully to her right. As she joined her, a voice called from above.

“Well, well, someone’s in a good mood. Excited to show off your new favorite to the family, are we?” Aphrodite leaned on her armrest, getting as close to the Artemis as possible. The goddess of beauty looked more like Apollo’s twin than Artemis ever had, with her long golden curls and bright sky-blue eyes. But then she smiled and Zoë realized her error. She did not remind Zoë of Apollo, but a different son of Zeus. One she’d rather forget.

Artemis crossed her arms, side-eying the other goddess with clear annoyance. “Zoë earned her presence here by her own merits. My favor has nothing to do with it.”

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, unconvinced. “Of course, dear, whatever you say.”

Before they could argue further, Athena joined the conversation from her throne on Artemis’s left. Where Aphrodite’s appearance was one of casual and effortless beauty, Athena’s was one of discipline. So much so that not a single strand of her black hair dared poke out from beneath her helm. “I do have to agree with my sister here. The huntress proved to be quite the adversary for the Achaean forces. I received many a prayer asking for ways to strike her down. Well fought.”

The statement was strange, an acknowledgement of both a decade of hard work and that that the goddess of battle strategy had wanted her dead. But judging by the way her lady smiled, she imagined it wasn’t actually a threat.

“Always so quick with the compliments when you win. Can’t imagine you’d be so kind if you lost.”

“Perhaps, I suppose we’ll never know.” Athena smirked, cold grey eyes shimmering with pride in her victory. “Whatever the case, I’m glad this war is over. I’d much rather fight alongside you, than against you.”

At that, the two virgin goddesses trailed off, mending their sisterhood after a decade of fighting. Zoë closed her eyes, and let them get to it, the conversation not intended for her ears anyway. In silence, she waited for the remaining thrones to be filled, and for the council meeting to finally begin.

Before long, Dionysus stumbled in, the hungover god of wine collapsing on the final empty chair. The clap of thunder that followed was all Zoë needed to know the council was now in session. Zeus led them through the proceedings, starting with the winning side. Hereoes that were able to go home, triumphant in their victory and dead souls to be honored with the everlasting joys of Elysium. But that list was incredibly few. For there were many in need of punishment. The Achaeans had gone too far in their victory, their pillaging so obscene that even the gods found it distasteful. And they paid for it, dearly. Many of the men who had breached Troy’s walls found they never made it back outside them. Through it all, Zoë listened for two names.

Agamemnon, king of Mycenae, father to Iphigenia. He was fated to die upon his return home, a consequence of his willingness to sacrifice his own daughter for fair winds. A reminder that bonds of blood could not be so easily discarded.

Odysseus, king of Ithaca, grand tactician, and architect of Troy’s downfall. He would spend a decade lost at sea, punishment for attacking one of Poseidon’s sons. No specifics were given, but Zoë didn’t care. He deserved to suffer for the wooden horse alone, as far as she was concerned. And the fact not even Athena spoke up in defense of her once favored mortal only confirmed that feeling. Her only annoyance was that the man apparently waited until the war was won to start making terrible decisions.

Once that was done, they covered the Trojan forces. A much briefer conversation, little more than a list of the fallen who had been granted Elysium, all reuniting with prince Hector in death.

“Zoë Nightshade” Zeus called. At last, her time had come.

With one deep breath, she stepped forward. The sound of her armor clanking against itself had never been so loud. She stopped close to the fire, kneeling before the king of the gods in reverence, placing her helm on the floor in front of her. Ready to face judgement.

“Artemis, you have the floor.”

“Thank you father. The huntress before you has served me faithfully for a century, proving to be not only a loyal companion, but a capable leader. One who kept my huntresses safe in my absence, and fought valiantly not only for me, but for all of us supporting Troy. And though that fight ended in defeat, I am certain that she gave that city everything she had and more. For I know she would never have settled for anything less.”

Zoë struggled to keep her head down, as her body surged with pride. Not just at her lady’s words, but the way she spoke them. Such admiration, Such fondness. All directed at her. She focused on keeping her composure, even as her cheeks flushed and lips broke into a smile.

“And yet the city still fell under her watch.” Ares added, from the other side of the council chambers. “If you hadn’t arrived, your precious hunters would have all perished, despite her best efforts. They should have all perished, if you ask me. Staying to fight would have been the honorable thing to do.”

“I disagree.” That was Athena. “A tactical retreat is nothing to be ashamed of, there is a certain value in living to fight another day.”

“Tell that to the Trojans.”

“Our sister’s hunters have been nothing but a boon to Olympus in the past. It would be foolish to let them all perish for nothing”

“And can we trust her to continue that support.” Came the voice of Hera, calm and impassioned, as her nails tapped against her armrest. “Need I remind the council of the full content of her character.”

Remind?

The word hit Zoë like an arrow, striking her hard and with deadly precision. She tried to ignore the sudden chill in her veins as she looked up. Not at her former lady, but her current one. She furrowed her brow in confusion. You knew?

Her surprise did not go unnoticed by the queen. “A hundred years and she didn’t even have the decency to be honest with you?”

Artemis held Zoë’s gaze for a moment, her eyes full of an emotion Zoë wasn’t used to seeing. Pity. A sentiment that quickly faded, as she turned to respond to the queen.

“We were going to speak after the meeting. I have no doubt…”

“Then let’s hear it.” Hera interrupted, turning to the huntress still kneeling before her. “Go on, tell your lady what you’re really like. Explain to her how little your word is worth.”

Zoë wanted to argue back, insist that the past century had changed her, that she was a different person now and such things no longer mattered. But that would be a lie. She would always be Zoë the hesperid, and there was nothing Zoë the huntress could do about it. Her head fell, unable to hold it up any longer, as shame took hold. She shifted her gaze to the eye openings of her helm, something to focus on, to keep her from collapsing entirely. Where would she even begin?

Artemis spoke before she could answer, anger clear in her voice. “No, you have no right…”

“I have no right!? You have no right to bring this treasonous wretch before me and demand I hold my tongue. You brought her here for recognition and I intend to make sure she receives it. For everything she’s done.”

“She’s right.” Zoë knew she spoke the words, but the sound was unrecognizable. Her voice was not one that belonged to the confident huntress she arrived as, but that of a lost hesperid. Someone who would always be alone in this world. “Lady Artemis’s appraisal of me was…incomplete.”

“It was incorrect” Hera reminded her. “But go on.”

“I…I was sworn in service to Queen Hera, tasked with protecting her sacred garden, and I betrayed her. Helped a hero steel one of her golden apples, a treasure no mortal could ever deserve.”

“Which hero?”

“You know which one. Everyone does.”

“Remind me.”

Zoë hesitated. She never wanted to speak that man’s name again, never even wanted to feel the letters form against her tongue in silence. It was an honor he didn’t deserve, and one she had sworn to deny him till the end of her days. But it was the queen’s command, and if she was capable of keeping her word, she wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

“Heracles” she hissed. A name that meant glory of Hera but felt more like a curse. Because to her, it was.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, enlighten us, why did you do such a thing?”

Zoë shook her head. Why? It was the one question she hadn’t prepared for, as she knew Artemis would never have asked it. A question so painful that her vision fogged just from considering her answer. Because truthfully, she could not justify her actions, not even to herself. She threw away everything, her service to her queen, her home, her peaceful eternity with her sisters, even her cherished sword, all for a man she barely knew. When had she become so foolish, so easily used, so weak? Tears began to fall.

“Today, huntress”

“He promised to take me with him” She somehow croaked out in her misery. “See the world outside the garden.”

“So, not even paradise was enough to sate you then.” The queen let the statement hang in the air for a moment, let Zoë feel every bit of contempt held within such few words. “Still, you travel often as a huntress, do you not. So, tell me, was it worth it?”

Images of her time with the hunt flashed in her mind. Joking with the others, as she struggled with her bow. An attempt by her sisters to lift her spirits. Chasing after streaks of silver, smile on her face and adrenaline coursing through her veins. Hitting a monster clean in the eye, turning it to dust before it could strike the injured hunter before her. Catching Artemis’s smile out of the corner of her eye, as they stargazed together. It was a better life than anything Heracles could have ever given her.

A quiet no was her only reply.

“Well,” Hera clapped her hands, satisfied at Zoë’s humiliation. “It appears this huntress has indeed learned her lesson. We can only hope it sticks. Now dear husband, I believe we are done here, unless there was another matter you wished to discuss?”

Thunder cracked again, and the meeting ended, each god filtering out of the throne room. Everything darkened as Hestia took her leave, taking the hearth’s warmth with her. There were fires elsewhere in need of tending. But Zoë hardly noticed. She collapsed in on herself, head buried in her arms on the floor, letting the tears fall freely. She would never outrun the worst mistake of her life; it was foolish she had ever pretended otherwise.

A hand appeared on her back, rubbing soothing circles, bringing just enough lucidity to realize that her lady unsummoned her armor. Zoë wanted so badly to lean into that touch, accept the comfort that was freely given. But how could she, when she no longer deserved it.

“How long have you known?”

“I knew you were a hesperid from the moment we met.” Artemis said, softly. “Hera filled in some of the details at the first council meeting after. Said she wanted to warn me about my newest hunter’s “poor character””. The goddess said those final words as if she didn’t believe them, but Zoë knew they were true.

She nodded, but didn’t lift her head, as another round of tears sprung forth. From the very beginning then. “Then why” Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you bring me here? Why leave me in charge of the hunters? Why even keep me in the hunt at all? These questions and more all raced in Zoë’s mind, to the point that even she didn’t know what she was asking.

“Because it doesn’t matter.” Artemis leaned in, until she could whisper the words in her ear. As if that could make her believe them. “You are a hunter now, one of unquestionable loyalty. I would not have left you in charge if I had any reason to suspect otherwise, and you would not have succeeded in that task if I was wrong. I rely on you, my nightshade, we all do. And for good reason. One century old mistake doesn’t change that.”

“Then you do not know me well enough.”

“Oh? And how well do you think you know me? I’ve certainly made my fair share of mistakes, Zoë.”

“Not like this.” She was certain of it. This was no hunting accident, a split-second decision that could go either way, or even a misunderstanding of her hunters’ limits. This was entirely her own doing. She knew that helping that hero was wrong, every step of the way, and did it anyway. She deserved whatever punishment the fates deemed worthy.

Artemis sighed, hand falling from Zoë’s back as she moved to sit comfortably beside her. “Then you do not know me well enough.” Only when Zoë’s words were echoed back at her, did she realize how much they hurt. A hundred years spent together, knowing each other, reduced to nothing. “I take it you’re familiar with the Pleiades?”

The Pleiades? Indeed, she was familiar. Her much, much older sisters from Atlas’s first relationship with Pleione. There were many lovers that separated them from the Hesperides and countless children, to the point that Zoë didn’t really consider them sisters. But she couldn’t imagine why Artemis would have brought them up at all, the subject change so severe that it brought her out of her grief, enough to sit up anyway. She wiped her eyes and allowed the world to come back into focus.

“Not as familiar as you’d expect. They hardly ever paid our garden a visit, preferring to spend their days with our mother beneath the sea. Why?”

Artemis hummed. “They used to visit Delos every year, back when Apollo and I were small. Always happy to take the two of us off our mother’s hands for a few hours of fun in the sea. Acknowledging us, even before Olympus did. I know it doesn’t sound like much but those days…they were everything to me. So much so that, even as I grew, and founded the hunt, I always returned home once a year to meet them. They were family, after all.”

A trip Zoë had never seen her take.

“What happened?”

The goddess hesitated, as if unsure where exactly to begin. “War broke out against Gaia’s fearsome giants, creatures born to counter the might of Olympus. A punishment for our treatment of the titans. I was tasked with tracking down Apollo’s and I’s fated adversary so we could take him down together. But what I found was a man, not a monster. He was a simple hunter, one that wanted no part of his mother’s war, only seeking satisfying hunts alongside worthy companions. So long as he could have that, he promised he would have no quarrel with us.”

She shook her head. “And I believed him. Enough to bring him here, in front of the council, and vouch for his life after the war was won. And enough to invite him to my hunt in the aftermath.”

“You allowed a man…to join us?” Zoë tried to avoid sounding too judgmental, especially since Artemis had always shown such patience with her. But the idea just felt wrong, viscerally so. And so very unlike the Artemis she had come to know.

The goddess smirked, almost amused at her surprise. “Like I said, I’ve made my fair share of mistakes. Obviously, the others didn’t approve, but I asked them to keep an open mind, certain that they’d come around in time. Afterall, the man wanted everything I did, the hunt part of his very nature, as much as it was part of mine. I thought I met a kindred spirit, another true immortal to share the hunt with. Forever.”

“I could not have been more wrong.” Her words turned cold, her eyes distant, no longer seeing the huntress before her, but a memory she’d rather forget. A feeling Zoë knew all too well. “For while the man was indeed an excellent hunter, with skills nearly rivaling my own, he was not one for sharing. Not when it came to me. It did not matter whether it was his sisters in the hunt, or the Pleiades, or even my own brother. He treated them all as if any moment spent together was a waste of my time, and that he alone was worthy of it. As the superior hunter. By the time I realized my mistake, and asked him to leave, it was too late. I had already shown him how to destroy me.”

She clenched her eyes shut, her next words too painful to even picture. “I heard prayers the next day. Desperate pleas from each of the Pleiades, begging for me to save them, as they were chased by an unstoppable pursuer. And I knew exactly who was after them. But before I could act, the voices vanished, all at once, as father intervened. Sending them to the one place he could never reach” She opened her eyes and turned to the sky, locking in on one constellation amongst the heavens. Zoë followed her gaze, finding a small collection of seven blue stars, all huddled together. One for each of her sisters.

“One mistake…” She said, voice full of sorrow, as a single silver tear ran down her cheek. “And my oldest friends were lost to me forever.”

“That is not your fault.”

“No, don’t act like I couldn’t have known. If my own hunters’ discomfort wasn’t enough of a warning, my brother’s pleading should have been. Apollo begged me not to let that man join us, swearing that I would regret it if I did. But I didn’t listen, as if I could predict the future better than the god of prophecy. I risked everyone’s safety on the word of a man I knew to be dangerous, and in the end, I wasn’t even the one to pay for that arrogance.”

Zoë wanted to argue further, but the words were stuck in her throat. Because, in truth, her lady was right. That man became her charge the moment he took his oath of service, the same as every hunter did. And while that oath did not make the goddess responsible for all of his actions, she was at fault for providing the opportunity in the first place. An opportunity to inflict harm longer lasting than anything Gaia’s children could have ever hoped for.

Still, she had to say something. “Did you at least get justice for them?”

“No, not that I didn’t try. I was furious, of course, tracked him down with blood boiling, intent on wiping his existence from the face of the earth. But again, I was too late. By the time I found him, he was already gone, stung through by a giant scorpion, body turning to dust. One last indignity I suffered at his hands.”

She looked to the sky again, tracing a figure with her hands; a man drawing an arrow for his bow. Close to the Pleiades but forever trailing behind them. Never closing the gap. “All I could do was place what was left of him in the sky, not as an honor, but a reminder of all that he deserves. And when our paths cross again, I’ll make sure he receives it.”

“And has he, have any of the giants, returned?”

“Not yet, but it’s been centuries. Tartarus won’t be able to hold him forever, and when he escapes, if won’t be me he’s after.”

He’ll be after us, Zoë finished in her head, understanding her goddess’s meaning and the threat they were all under. A giant, one powerful enough to take on Artemis and Apollo together, dead set on destroying the hunt. A danger that may even rival her father, and an adversary Artemis entirely blamed herself for. And despite how little she thought of herself that night, for a moment she put her doubts aside. Her lady still needed her. She wrapped an arm around her, and pulled her close, caressing her in comfort. “Then we’ll be waiting.” Together. For as long as you’ll have me.

“Yes, we will.” A bit of the misery left her tone, as Zoë’s words had their intended effect. Artemis shifted, leaning into her fully and closing her eyes, appreciating the huntress before her. “Though, I have not finished my story. For centuries later, I found myself face to face with another nymph, one so similar to the Pleiades she could only be their sister.” She opened her eyes and looked up, voice more hopeful than anything either of them had said that evening. “And I knew then why Selene had sent me so far to find her; a daughter of Atlas and Pleione, one I could still save.”

Zoë shook her head. “I am not my sisters.”

“And I am not Heracles. But the fates brought us together for a reason. Perhaps, they decided to give us both a second chance.”

“Or maybe they think we just haven’t suffered enough yet.” Zoë countered, looking away as her face suddenly became warm. Unsure if even she agreed with her words, but unable to accept Artemis’s. That she could be her goddess’s second chance.

At that Artemis laughed, breaking through a bit of the tension in the air. “Forever the optimist. Very well then, I suppose we’ll have to see which of us is right. But whatever the case, I’m glad they did.”

She untangled herself from her huntress and stood, holding out a hand to her companion on the floor with a smile. “Now, come. I believe we’ve both had enough of Olympus for one night.”

And Zoë took it.

The flight home was exactly what Zoë had originally planned; a relaxing moment together, under the stars. Artemis summoned a bench for them to sit on, sensing her companion was too exhausted to stand for long, a gesture Zoë greatly appreciated. She sat beside her lady in silence, mind fixated on everything that had happened that night.

Zoë had often imagined what speaking to her lady would be like, wondering how she would take it all in. Would she be angry at her huntress for keeping secrets, disappointed that she felt she had to conceal them at all, or perhaps be completely uninterested, too used to hunters with tragic pasts.

But even in a century of musing, she had never imagined it being like this. Never thought her lady could truly understand everything. The pain that came with trusting a man who didn’t deserve it, and the suffering that follows. The shame of knowing that you failed those closest to you, failure you’d do anything to take back. The isolation of keeping all of this a secret from those you hold most dear. All of this and more, a century’s worth of regret, mirrored by the experiences of the goddess beside her. In a way Zoë never would have thought possible. Everything was out in the open now, there was nowhere left to hide, for either of them. And that changed things between them, in a way she couldn't describe.

But she knew one thing for sure.

Artemis and the Pleiades

Heracles and Zoë

Now, Artemis and Zoë

Three times now, the children of Zeus and Atlas, the god sky and the titan who bore it, had met. Two times, such meetings had ended in tragedy. That was certainly no coincidence. But a second chance. Could the fates truly be so kind?

Her eyes drifted over to her lady, driving the chariot forward with practiced ease. To all the world, a goddess of unwavering composure. But Zoë saw more. The tiredness in those silver eyes, radiant as ever in the moonlight. The few loose strands of hair she hadn’t bothered to fix, fluttering gently in the wind. Sitting so close together that the silver aura they shared overlapped; the space between them made brighter together. And despite everything she’s endured, everything they’ve endured, something inside her answered. Yes, they can. Still one question remained. Would she allow herself to receive such kindness?

She took a long breath and looked to the stars. That once mysterious tapestry that her goddess had unraveled before her, one constellation at a time. Even when such tales were ones of great personal regret, and loved ones long passed. Honesty she had yet to fully reciprocate.

“My lady…” She exhaled, gesturing to the sky above them. “It seems we have run out of tales to tell. Perhaps, I could share one of my own?”

“Please.”

Her story was simple. It was not one of proud heroes, fearsome monsters, or prideful mortals, and certainly not one deserving of the stars. No, this was the tale of a nymph, the eldest of five sisters, tasked with maintaining paradise. A millennia of sisterhood, laughter, joy, and pain; a life too long to be summarized in a single night. So, she focused on something she knew her lady would enjoy, the trial of Ladon; learning how to best feed a creature with a hundred heads, and one stomach. All the while, Artemis hung on her every word.

That night, Zoë had her moment of true honesty. The first of many.

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