Chapter Nine

Panic and dread filled her mind, but she could not be sure if the feelings were her own or those of her brother. No, she thought to herself as she burst through the door and grabbed her bow and quiver in passing. But, of course, these thoughts are mine, she told herself. Her brother was struck by one of her own arrows. He is dying. Of course, she was scared. She was scared she might lose him. She had to focus, she told herself, as her eyes scanned the area.

Outside her cabin, Artemis looked straight ahead to see the central spring. Shooting out from the small cluster of rocks in the middle of the spring was the massive celestial anchor and its skyward chain. The goddess saw a gaggle of nymphs, women, and even a centaur or two. Frolicking in the spring without a care in the world, they had no clue concerning the dying god just yards from their position.

No sign of the perpetrator.

"Gray cloak. Broken Book," she thought aloud, echoing Apollo's last words to her. Artemis saw the winding trail and a few cabins and hovels at her left. A few Silver Wardens were talking among themselves, looking at ease and unlike they would if a stranger had just dashed past them.

"Hey!" Artemis barked at her subordinates.

They turned and were startled to see their goddess in a state of half-dress with disheveled hair and a look of unchecked rage in her eyes.

"In my cabin, my brother needs tending to at once!" she said, throwing her hand to clarify which cabin was hers. "Go!"

"At once, mistress!" shouted the senior warden.

Turning right, Artemis broke into a sprint. In this direction were the stables, barracks, and armory. Those were all heavily reinforced and manned by armed guards, but beyond those was a heavily wooded area, perfect for breaking sight lines and escaping quickly. As she neared the stables, she could sense the discomfort of the pair of steeds in the corral, and with a brief glance, she locked eyes with one of the steeds and knew it had seen the assailant.

With a quick left, Artemis saw the briefest flit of a gray cloak dash behind the armory. Artemis gave a grunt and leaped up to the rooftop of the armory. It was a feat that only her divine nature allowed, and even then, her feet scrambled against the last two feet of the wall before she could pull herself up.

Moving fast, Artemis dashed across the roof, nocking an arrow as she did, and then took aim at its peak. She saw the target's gray cloak as they ran for the treeline. Artemis furrowed her brow and released her arrow.

She may no longer have been the most excellent Olympian archer, as that distinction now belonged to her nephew Eros, but Artemis was beyond exceptional, and with her enchanted bow, her arrows were never affected by gravity, wind, or other environmental factors or forces. Of course, it would be her own fault if she missed, but she would not do that. Not this time. Not after what this bastard had done to Apollo.

Artemis smiled as she witnessed her arrow catch the target in the shoulder as they ducked into the treeline.

Meanwhile, Artemis' perch upon the armory roof had caused a stir of voices behind and below her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she threw one arm into the air. "To arms, sisters! My brother Apollo needs aid," she said, pointing some of the nymphs toward her cabin. "Sentries to defensive positions! Huntresses, into the woods with me, we have a heretic to hunt!"

And with that, Artemis dropped to her side and slid down the roof until its edge. There she kicked off the roof and landed halfway between the edge of the settlement and the treeline. Then, in another few fast and powerful strides, she was into the thick of the woods, dashing between tree trunks in unbelted trousers and a loose tunic. Her bare feet found sound footing in the woods and kicked up leaves, moss, and dirt in equal measure.

Within moments, she had gained another chance to shoot at the heretic and, this time, stuck them in the knee before they broke the line of sight. Artemis dashed to where the blow had landed and found a spatter mark upon the bark of a nearby tree. As she neared the soiled bark, her nose could smell what it took her fingers several more moments to confirm. That was not blood but ichor. The heat warmed her fingertips and scorched the bark of the tree.

"Ichor…" she said, shaking her head and continuing the chase. "How is this possible?" she asked aloud as she dashed deeper into the woods, her eyes picking out the signs of her frantic prey's trail.

Artemis could hear her sisters joining the hunt in the far distance behind her. She heard commands to fan out and flank, but Artemis knew their assistance would be in vain. She was nearly caught up, and as she rounded a tree, she saw the cloaked attacker standing at the edge of a cliff, seeming to assess where to go.

Artemis did not hesitate and lunged at the attacker, dropping her bow and quiver on the ground as her feet left it behind. Then, striking her shoulder into the small of the attacker's back, Artemis threw herself and the intruder over the cliff, causing them both to strike the rocky outcroppings below before plunging into a water-filled sinkhole fed by a trickling creek overhead.

The sudden splash of goddess and stranger caused a few nymphs enjoying the privacy of this locale to startle and scamper before Artemis' head broke the surface of the water and let out a gasp of air. She was bruised and sore, but her divinity meant these would be fleeting pains and gone before she left the water.

As Artemis took a moment to gain her bearings, she caught the glint off an adamantine dagger and caught the wrist of the hand holding it just before the blade's point met her cheek. Artemis' feet had been treading water but now frantically kicked at her attacker as she sank beneath the water once more. Beneath the water, Artemis threw her elbows, striking the assailant in what she thought was the face two or three times.

When the dagger was no longer threatening her head, she risked letting the blade go and allowed it to pierce her shoulder and collarbone so that she could use her hands to probe the attacker's face. Then, full of rage, Artemis let out a water-logged scream as her thumbs found the eyes. The taste of diluted ichor filled her tongue as she wrapped her legs around the attacker and kept her prey in her clutches.

Releasing the dagger, the attacker frantically slapped at Artemis' hands, trying to pry them from the eye sockets. However, the attempt was in vain as Artemis' mind had now flooded with the darkness that consumed her twin. She was lost in her senses, and any pain dealt with her body was meaningless compared to the pain that racked her soul.

When the attacker stopped squirming and Artemis began to drown, her instincts shut down her rage, and she regained her senses. Kicking off the bottom of the sinkhole, Artemis shot back to the water's surface, and after filling her lungs with the respite of breath, she swam to a nearby moss-covered boulder that nymphs would often perch upon.

Artemis climbed atop the rock with gasping breath and dragged the unconscious attacker upon the rocks. Artemis let out a cough and spit out ichor-tainted water. With a pained hiss, she pulled the adamantine dagger from her shoulder and then grit her teeth as she stuffed a handful of moss into the wound to stop the bleeding. Artemis had the luxury of not needing to be concerned with infection, but she didn't dare lose any more ichor.

Having treated her own wound, Artemis' mind drifted to Apollo. The metaphysical bond that connected them told her that he still lived, barely. But exactly what was transpiring with him eluded her. She usually maintained a general insight or a basic sense of his condition at this distance. But not now. Now, she was only mildly numb. It was concerning, but she took what little comfort she could in knowing she still had some connection to him, even if it were as weak as it was.

Shifting focus from her brother to her brother's would-be-assassin, Artemis dipped her hand into the water and then splashed it on her face. Her hand kept a white-knuckled grip on the dagger if this wet and cold sensation startled them to life, but that precaution seemed unnecessary as the assassin did not move. Artemis wondered if they were dead but did not pause to check. She was more concerned about their identity.

The assassin would never see again from one eye. Artemis was sure of that as her thumb had pierced the eyeball itself, nearly turning it inside-out. The other eye was intact, with a nasty gash between it and the nose.

With ichor removed or diluted enough to become transparent, Artemis realized that the attacker was a man… or rather a male deity. Artemis was unsure she recognized him, even if her mind had not been so wracked with turmoil. She idly wondered how a man that was not Apollo could have so easily infiltrated the sanctuary, but she would not harass her sentries over the matter. This assassin was a god. There was no telling what he was capable of.

As the other Silver Wardens found their mistress in the sinkhole and called out to her, Artemis gave them a signal that she was still alive. Then, she ordered a few to check the perimeter for other conspirators or a steed this assailant had planned to escape upon. Then, as the others began to descend the sinkhole and cast ropes down to retrieve Artemis and the strange god, the goddess of the hunt began to hunt for clues on this god's person.

Patting down his armored tunic, she found a necklace and tore it from his neck with a quick jerk. The medallion was ruby cut in the shape of a flame with an abstract cage of iron wire surrounding it. Artemis was not sure of its symbolism but kept the jewelry all the same.

As she continued to check the body, she found a flask on his belt. A quick sniff told her that it was filled with Nektar, mixed with something else, something foul. He also had a pouch of diced ambrosia and ambrosia glazed wafers.

As her nymphatic huntresses arrived to help her bind the prisoner, Artemis caught sight of something in his boot. She snatched the parchment from where it stuck out of the boot and allowed her followers to claim the assassin.

A young dryad named Sygra began attending to Artemis' wound. While being thus treated, Artemis clenched her teeth and opened the water-logged parchment carefully. The ink was blurred and running, but she could make out the gist of the writing's instruction.

*Humble…, my friend and…*

*I hope this letter… well and healthy.*

*Your task… should… the… of the so-called*

*Sun God. This is what we have waited for…*

*So do not fail in this most righteous cause.*

*Take up perch in the Forest of the…*

*Make use of your Arete. Do not be seen*

*Be patient, and he will arrive. ... us.*

*He will lie with his sister in … union.*

*... proof of their lack of true divinity.*

*Strike him then, … engaged with his sister.*

*Catch them in the act...*

*Use the aperture... capture this moment...*

*Yours… and…*

*Nyx*

Artemis' eyes went wide at reading the name signed on the document. "Nyx?" she asked.

"Excuse me?" asked the dryad.

Artemis sighed. "Nyx. What do you know of Nyx?" asked Artemis. She paused as she looked over her wounded shoulder to the nymph medic. "This isn't a test," she said, gritting her teeth as the nymph pulled the moss from the wound and began applying a salve and proper dressing.

"An allegory," explained Sygra after a moment of consideration. "The goddess of the night, born of chaos. Some of the legends say she was the sister of Gaia, from the Old World, but in truth she never existed. She was a figment of the minds of the humans, created as a sort of spectre. The sort of thing you tell the children to make them behave when they are young."

Artemis tried to recall the term she had heard Hermes use before. "A… A boogeyman, as it were."

"If you like," said Sygra. "So, was I correct?"

Artemis nodded as she bit her lip. "Yes. That matches my own understanding. But this letter," she said as she focused on the writing to see it nearly wholly ruined by the water. Then, finally, she let out an upset growl and tossed it aside. "That letter was written by someone claiming to be Nyx."

"A moniker then," said Sygra. "Nyx does not exist," explained the nymph with a sage nod, finishing the dressing of the wound. "This is just someone's odd sense of theatrics."

Artemis sighed and cast her eyes upward to the rim of the sinkhole, where she caught a fleeting glimpse of the strange god bound in adamantine chains before her huntresses pulled up and led him away. "Perhaps that is all it is, but that attacker is a god… and one I do not recognize."

Sygra seemed startled by that admission. "He is a god?" she asked with a gulp. "He is not one of your distant cousins or perhaps the offspring of another line. Maybe Thaumas, for instance?"

Artemis shook her head. She was not overly familiar with Thaumas' brood, except for Iris and her sisters, but she felt she would have at least seen those gods before, at some point. "I do not know… and that concerns me."

"An Underworld daimon then?" asked the nymph.

Artemis stood upright, snatching the dagger from where she had laid it on the rock earlier, and let out a long sigh. "That… That might it," she said, not convinced but not wanting to continue the conversation much further. "Thank you," she said as she turned to the cliff and began to climb.

Hauling herself out of the hole hurt more than she cared to admit. Nevertheless, adamantine weapons always left their mark on gods, and it was one of the few instances where a goddess such as Artemis could genuinely say that she began to understand the concept of pain as mortals understood it.

Previous encounters with adamant had left Artemis with a twisted grin on her face, finding the sensation of pain to be fascinating and novel, but as she traced her steps back to her encampment, filled with dread about what news she might hear about her brother, she found that the pain only further soured her mood.

By the time she arrived at her cabin, a significant crowd of Silver Wardens and moonies had gathered around the doorway, peeking in and gossiping. Artemis had almost made her way to the door before someone recognized her as she was covered in mud, ichor, and sweat, not to mention having a generally disheveled appearance. Of course, it did not help that she lacked her bow and quiver. She nearly cursed as the thought crossed her mind, afraid she would have to retrace her steps, but then she saw her cousin Despoina holding the weaponry.

Seeing the nature goddess so armed seemed out of place, but Artemis did not mock her, only issuing a grateful nod and stepping into her abode. Despoina followed her inward and closed the door behind her, hanging the bow and quiver up on their hook next to Apollo's bow and quiver.

Artemis stopped a few steps into her home and saw the scorched markings from ichor burns on her tiled floor. Apollo had been dragged out of her cabin. "Where is he?" She could feel he was not near, and this concerned her. "Where is Apollo?"

Despoina folded her arms and leaned against the wall. She looked more like her father Poseidon than her mother, with mousy brown hair and icy blue eyes. "He is safe. I ordered his sunriders to ascend him to the Haven in his carriage."

"Travel could be risky-"

Despoina shook her head. "I had just come from there and Asclepius was there," she explained to Artemis' immediate relief. "Where have you been?"

"Busy," said Artemis, stumbling to stabilize herself by leaning on the back of a chair. "Yourself?" she asked with a wry smile. Seeing Despoina in these woods was not uncommon. Despoina enjoyed the beaches to the north, west, and east of the Forest of the Moon and would often spend most of her time in this area, but it was rare for her to enter the enclave.

Despoina nodded as she walked closer to her cousin. "I saw Apollo's carriage enter earlier. I thought I would catch the two of you and share some drinks..." she said, motioning to a bottle she held. "Dionysus introduced this to me, and it's-" she stopped herself and sighed. "Are you okay?" she thought to ask.

"I'll live," Artemis scoffed as she dropped her weight into the chair she had been leaning on. Her hand snatched the drink from her cousin. It was an expensive wine from Ithaca. Artemis had never tried it before, but it sounded perfect for drowning the pain she felt now. She sighed as she struggled to remove the cork, wincing in pain as the attempts strained her wounded shoulder.

Her cousin sighed, snatching the bottle back and effortlessly pulling the cork free. "There," she said, shoving it into Artemis' breasts. "Have at it. You need it more than I."

With a grunt, Artemis snapped her eyes to Despoina. "Thanks," she hissed and then whet her lips and chugged deep from the bottle.

As Artemis drank, Despoina pulled another chair away from the large chopped tree trunk with the sanded top that served as the table. Once seated, Despoina went on. "So, I had seen what happened in the sinkhole... Do you know who that was that attacked your brother?"

After a long swig, Artemis swallowed and felt a surge of vigor return to her body. She slumped in her chair, her muscles compelled to relax to speed her healing. After the initial buzz faded from her mind, Artemis allowed an easy smirk to cross her lips as her eyes found Despoina's gaze. "I do not know."

Despoina nodded. "Perhaps it matters little. They are dead now."

Shaking her head so daintily, Artemis protested her cousin's assumptions. "No. He still breathes, for now... The bastard was a god. The only reason he survived."

Raising an eyebrow, Despoina seemed startled. "A god? Do tell, cousin, do tell."

"That is all I know," she said with a half-hearted lie before swigging another sample from her bottle. Swallowing, she saw her cousin would not let her off so quickly, so she chuckled and continued. "One I do not recognize. Feel free to see your way to the barracks' cellar cells and see if you can identify him."

Despoina giggled. "Some good that would do," she said, shaking her head. "He's in Olympus, by now."

Artemis scoffed. "On whose orders? I gave no such-"

"If he is a god, he should be brought before the Twelve," Despoina said, her hand slapping the table more for emphasis than objection.

"Whatever," said Artemis with an irritated growl. "First, let me drink," she said and downed another chug.

"Here," said Despoina, offering a flask.

Artemis set the bottle on the table and accepted the flask. It was warm to the touch and made of adamant. "Nektar?"

Despoina nodded.

A loud crackle shook the cabin as the Nektar poured over her tongue. The crackle could only have come from a dimensional breach, like the sort caused by her and Apollo's carriages. Following that, there was a loud clatter and crash. Artemis' gaze shot first to Despoina to confirm her cousin had heard the same disturbance, and then she glanced about for the source of the commotion.

Despoina was on her feet quickly and soon standing over the remains of a broken aperture lens that had fallen from above the shelf above where Artemis and Apollo hung their quivers. Despoina knelt to allow her hands to sift through the remains, and as she did, Artemis recalled the mention of an aperture in the letter.

"It's a camera," said Despoina, using the common term for the device. Her fingers plucked the photographs from the wreckage and began to carefully peel the lumino film from the stills.

Artemis then realized that Despoina was about to bear witness, and her mind filled with dread. Just then, her cabin door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was Zelos, the clean-shaven male member of Zeus' throne guard. His eyes always had an eerie intensity, only made more intense by their singular focus on Artemis. With that determined glare, his lips parted to speak. "Your father has summoned you," he said gruffly.

"To what end?" asked Despoina, butting in with a stack of photographs in her hand, the top of which was still only half-peeled.

Zelos glared at Despoina. "That is not of your concern, daughter of Poseidon."

Artemis saw her chance and shot to her feet so fast she felt a bit woozy. She stepped forward, placed her free hand on Despoina's wrist, and lowered it to her cousin's side. As she did so, she deftly let her hand draw down her cousin's hand and fingers and slip the photographs from her grip. Palming the stills in her own hand now, Artemis then stepped between Zelos and Despoina. "I assume he's in the Haven?"

Zelos gave a firm nod after slowly removing his glare from Despoina.

"Well, lead on then," said Artemis.

As the throne guard did so, Artemis glanced over her shoulder and tried to flash a comforting smile to Despoina. She felt the words on her tongue, but she did not issue the farewell she had meant to. Her mind was too clouded. Concerned thoughts of Apollo mixed with pain, a Nektar high, and the dread of what might be captured in the photographs she now possessed. With all the swirling emotions and half-baked ponderings in her mind, it was a wonder she was able to stay upright long enough to join Zelos in the king's motorcarriage.

Unlike the dimensional carriages favored by Hades and Apollo, which were still drawn by the divine steeds called Anemoi and not like Artemis' carriage that was pulled by her similarly divine deer, Zeus had abandoned the need for the Anemoi some years ago and embraced the mortal trend of the motorized carriage. It was a deep purple with gold chrome accents and white leather upholstery in the interior. Built by Hephaestus, the carriage was a work of art that even a technophobe like Artemis could appreciate for its beauty.

Artemis was mildly concerned about riding in such a carriage, but she did not want to appear afraid before Zelos. As he opened the passenger door, she took a seat. Zelos then sat next to her and went through the confusing gestures and motions that Artemis did not understand to operate the vehicle.

Once he got it going, he drove slowly to navigate through the dense wood before finding a clearing where he could pick up enough speed to activate the dimensional breaching ability of the motorcarriage. The shift from reality to the ether was jostling and left Artemis more unsettled than regular gate travel. As they transitioned out of the ether, they were in some long tunnel in the bowels of Olympus that Artemis had never seen before.

She had expected they would arrive in the stables, but this seemed to lead them toward an open space near Hephaestus' workshop and the mechanical areas that Hestia would often disappear into for hours. As Zelos parked the motorcarriage, Artemis sat in awkward silence. As he did whatever he was doing to shut the contraption down, Artemis had to fight the curious itch at the back of her mind to quickly peel the film from the photographs and see if it was as damning as she suspected.

Would it really even be damning? She idly wondered the implications, and as she did, she glanced at Zelos and offered a nervous smirk. He returned her gesture with his usual glowering grimace and then averted his eyes, looking forward and remaining vigilant.

When Artemis was younger, incest was not uncommon. Rural farmers and houses of nobility alike had practiced it in pocketed regions of society. It was even more widespread in its practice if the siblings had only shared one common parent. For thousands of years, it was accepted, even in the times of the lauded reign of the Roman Empire.

But this was not the old world. This was Elysium. It still existed for sure, but it had fallen out of favor, and as a goddess, Artemis was expected to be more progressive than mere mortals. So while she felt it was not as damning as the letter's writer had seemed to expect it would be, it would not be an ideal thing to be released by whoever had ordered these photographs taken. It was better for Artemis to release these on her own terms… after she spoke to Apollo.

Apollo.

Artemis let out a sigh as the motor finally shut down, and Zelos disembarked from the vehicle. Then, as she and Zelos walked away, side by side, she forced herself to ask. "What is this place?"

"The garage," he said. "It's a... stable for motorcars," he explained.

"Awfully big," she said, looking at the massive emptiness.

"Your father expects you and your brother, and others, to trade your carriages in eventually," explained Zelos. "If you are interested, I can inform Hephaestus-"

"Don't bother," she said, shaking her head. "I have no plans to adopt such a loud and clumsy thing as that."

Zelos chuckled. "I don't know. I think it's kind of fun..."

"Where is my brother?" Artemis asked as she was led out of the garage and into an unfamiliar utility corridor she suspected was beneath the usual places she would venture to when in the Haven.

"Which brother?" asked Zelos.

Which brother? Artemis scoffed. Was he kidding? Instead of protesting, she chose to hold her tongue and forced herself to be civil. "Apollo. My twin. My only true brother," she added, unable to resist a little protest to his apparent attitude.

Zelos remained silent as he simply led her to some hidden stairwell and into a more familiar corridor, eventually bringing her to the throne room. As she passed by him and held a massive door open, he finally spoke in hushed tones. "I have not heard anything… but while you speak to the king, I will see if there is anything I can relay to ease your mind."

The generous offer brought a smile to Artemis' face. She thanked him with a polite nod and then wandered inward, leaving him to close the door behind her and disappear from sight. Her mind was still swimming. She almost did not see her father at the Nektar font. As she noticed him and approached, she realized he was waiting for her with a goblet in each hand.

"Daughter," Zeus said with a warm smile as he saw her approach. But, as she neared, the smile faded. "You look dreadful," he said, now looking her over head to foot with a concerned frown.

Artemis accepted the goblet and drank deep from it, not caring about flooding her head with the buzz from drinking too fast. She wanted the pain gone to clear her mind that much more, even if she would have to drown her thoughts in Nektar-filled flights of fancy first.

"What happened?" asked Zeus, sipping at his own goblet. When she did not reply, he placed his fingers on the base of her goblet and tipped it, guiding her to slow down in her consumption.

Artemis had to snicker at being counseled on temperance by Zeus of all the gods. "Apollo was shot."

Shot with an arrow or shot in a compromising position by an aperture lens. Artemis didn't know what she had actually meant by her words at that moment. As she paused to consider what else to say, the Nektar caused her mind to swirl, and she found her thoughts drawn to strange insights and peculiar ponderings.

There was a moment when she reflected on the strangeness of the camera's discovery. It had been perched on a shelf when Zelos' arrival via the anchor had caused it to rumble and shift enough to fall to the floor. So what was it doing there? Had the assailant placed it there while he taking the bow and arrow in hand to shoot Apollo? Artemis let herself think on that matter too long, causing Zeus to snap his fingers and bring her back to the moment.

"By who?" Zeus said in such a manner as to indicate he had asked the question several times at that point.

"Sorry," she said, lowering the goblet and resting its base on the rim of the Nektar font. "A god."

"Which?" asked Zeus, his brow furrowed.

Sighing, Artemis glanced at the font and let her eyes watch the glowing Nektar's soothing ebb and flow within. She then grabbed her goblet and prepared to drink from it as her eyes turned back to meet her father's gaze. "That is the question," she said before taking a quick drink. "I don't know."

"How is that possible?" Zeus asked with a confused but still angry expression. "I was told you captured him."

Artemis raised her eyebrow. "You were told? By who?" and then she paused to ponder on everything. This was happening too fast. Finally, she dropped her goblet and clutched her head. "Something is not right," she said to herself, stumbling backward as the room began to spin.

"Artemis?!" Zeus dropped his goblet and rushed in to catch her as she fell back, the photographs scattering across the floor beneath her, some of them mixing with the pooling spilled Nektar. "Artemis!"

In flashes of pain and memory, she retraced her steps. She remembered Despoina asking where she had been. Had she lost track of time? Had she fallen in and out of mindless wanderings through the trees back to the enclave? That had to be impossible, though… didn't it? How could that have happened? How long had she spent stumbling around in the woods? She couldn't think about that now, though. She had to remember to breathe. She had to consciously make an effort to breathe now as her lungs began to fail her.

Artemis had a moment of clarity then. With gasping breaths as she lay propped in her father's cradling arms, sitting on the floor, she reached up and tore open her tunic to reveal her dressed wound. She tore the bandage off and saw a festering black scab where tendrils of black webbed across her body. Her mind raced to where she had left the dagger. She could not recall. "Poison!" she cried, weakly grabbing the lapels of her father's coat. "Poison!" she screamed. "The dagger!" she rambled, repeating those last two words in increasingly drawn-out and hushed tones.

And then she offered her father one final glance, and she closed her eyes as a strange smirk drew upon her lips. Then, finally, she could feel herself close to her brother again.

## Characters

### Gods

* Artemis
* Despoina
* Zelos
* Zeus