Forsaken Chapter Four
Added 2023-12-03 03:12:23 +0000 UTCForsaken Chapter Four ############################################################# “It’s a hell of a situation, and I don’t envy Cassie a b
Forsaken
Chapter Four
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“It’s a hell of a situation, and I don’t envy Cassie a bit. God, I don’t envy anyoneinvolved in this entire debacle. And I choose that word deliberately.” Paul groaned into his hands as he scrubbed them over his face, and Sally was generous enough not to chastise him for having his elbows on the kitchen table so that he could do it. She had, after all, just spent the last two hours giving him a rather more detailed breakdown of her past (and the current situation) than she had ever given him before.
“I know it’s a lot.” She said sympathetically, glad that she had at least let him have his morning coffee before she had started piling the stresses of the divine world and her literally intimate relations therein upon his shoulders. It was the only polite decision to make, of course, but she had to admit that waiting had been difficult.
“Sally, baby, winning the lottery is a lot. Getting into a car accident is a lot. Accidentally going outside with your fly down can be a lot.” He respond, voice tinged with wry, exasperated, tired amusement, and Sally’s lips twitched slightly at the reference to a mistake he made all too often, much to his despair and her entertainment. “Finding out that my girlfriend is the lover of one of the ancient Greek gods, that said gods are real, and that her son -who is now her daughter!- is the child of said god is not. It’s titanic. It’s astronomical.”
“Former lover, thank you very much. Poseidon hasn’t visited me since we found out I was pregnant. He didn’t want to draw attention to us, either that of monsters or worse that…brother of his.” Sally responded, before biting her tongue to cut off the entirely too honest commentary on Zeus that she had been about to let flow. The last thing she wanted to do was inadvertently draw his eyes here now, not to mention the fact that Thalia was in the house. She didn’t exactly want to be too honest about the god of the sky and then turn around to find his daughter listening to her vitriol.
Even if, based on everything she had gathered, Thalia would agree and add quite the amount of invective of her own to the pile. Still, whether or not Thalia would agree or be offended was entirely beside the point. Sally had been raised better than to bad-mouth someone’s parents in front of them.
“Former lover then, but the point remains. This is a little bit outside of my life experience, sweetheart.” Paul allowed, gracefully accepting her aborted words and moving past them without commenting further, before sighing deeply and taking a slow, steady, even deeper breath in. Dropping his hands away from his face, he leaned back in his chair and looked at her. “Alright, let’s look at this like any other rough relationship situation that a teen would be dealing with, I guess. From what you’ve said, and from what mythology I know, Artemis isn’t much better than the girls, so that at least puts everyone on a relatively equal bit of footing.”
“I would have to agree with that. So, a rough, emotional, romantically complicated situation for four teenage girls, some of whom aren’t particularly fond of one another.” Sally agreed, leaning back in her own chair and taking a sip of her coffee. “Who’s first? Artemis?”
“No, she might have been the reason things have taken the direction they have, but she’s not the biggest issue, really. I think Thalia is. She obviously thinks the sun rises and sets because of your daughter for saving her, wants to protect her and help her however she can. The problem is, her crush combines with that and now she doesn’t want to let anyone else anywhere near Cassie that might end up being competition.”
“Especially competition she isn’t sure she can actually compete with, like a literal goddess?” Sally added dryly, and Paul nodded in agreement, a small quirk of amusement creasing his lips, and Sally shakes her head with an exasperated groan. “Alright, so Thalia probably is the biggest issue, not just because of all of that, but I’m pretty sure she has some…self-worth issues. Dying, or trying to die, for someone who later betrayed her and everything she stood for obviously didn’t improve that situation.”
Paul nodded again, and they were silent for a long moment. It was obvious all the girls, all the demigods in general no doubt, required significant amounts of counselling and therapy. Unfortunately, any therapist alive that they tried to see would have them drugged to the gills or locked away in an asylum for their ‘delusions’.
“Bianca is easier. Honestly, she is the best adjusted of the girls, despite the massive amount of guilt she carries and the debt she feels she owes Cassie over this whole situation…” Sally started, and Paul snorted.
“A sizeable caveat.”
“But she knows where she stands, she knows the entire situation, and those two things are giving her a stability that the other girls are lacking right now. The biggest risk with her, besides her guilt and debt complex pushing her into doing something crazy, is that she misplays letting the other girls know the truth. Best case scenario is that they believe her and everything is fine. Worst case, they assume she is lying to manipulate them and everything is ruined for the rest of their lives.” Sally continued, ignoring his comment, though she honestly had to agree. But she could only handle just so many life-changing difficulties and complex mental or emotional traumas at a time.
Especially given the fact that she was herself trying to deal with a few, such as the sudden, unsolicited, invasive, but thoroughly beneficial life saving shift that her son-cum-daughter had just endured. Or the fact that her child had nearly died again, simply because she had wanted to save the lives of people who didn’t deserve to die. She shuddered a little as Bianca’s explanation of Zoe’s almost-fate whispered through her mind again. It was horrifying to even imagine, that the ancient teen would have been murdered by her own father.
“And of course the issues that Cassie is dealing with are…pretty damn obvious. It’s just been one thing after another for her, from what you told me, and now she has to deal with not even being herself anymore, at least physically. Not to mention the other pressures that she has to be under.” Paul finished, waving a hand in a vague gesture that was clearly meant to encompass a great many things, few (if any) of them positive. “I’m not sure how we can help with that, honestly. Neither of us exactly have the training for handling gender dysphoria, especially not under these circumstances.”
“No, but we’re going to try anyway, because that’s what parents do.” Sally’s voice was a little bit tired as she glanced towards the stairs, and she thus didn’t see the way that Paul brightened and briefly smiled in absolute delight at her words. Though subtle, a simple phrase, the way she had spoken of them and parents together and in the same sentence certainly implied that she saw him as an equal in at least some parenting matters and responsibilities for Cassandra.
Which meant, even if she hadn’t yet voiced it directly and in so many words, she saw him as a longer-term partner than a simple boyfriend, or at least saw a great deal of potential for such a thing in him. That was an incredible encouragement, and he thought of the small box that was tucked away in a dark, hidden corner of one of his work bags. It wasn’t time for it to come into the light yet, but…soon.
A rustle of cloth and the slight slapping sound of bare feet on carpet-less flooring put a sharp end to the conversation, and the both of them looked over towards the hall to see a wide awake and thoroughly, painfully exhausted Bianca making her way into the room, and Sally raised a concerned eyebrow. Compared to the pristine, beautiful, almost statuesque young woman that had spoken to her the night before, Bianca looked a mess. Her hair was a mess, virtually untamed and bearing all the hallmarks of a girl who had spent most of the night rolling around trying and failing to get comfortable. There were dark circles under her eyes as well, eyes that had a certain degree of bleariness to them, though Sally certainly wasn’t willing to bet for an instant that the girl was anything less than deadly even in this condition. Her lips were turned downwards in an unconscious, unhappy pouting moue of displeasure as she slumped into one of the empty chairs, and Sally exchanged glances with Paul before clearing her throat.
“Are you alright, Bianca? You don’t look like you slept well…” she said gently, and the daughter of Hades gave her a tired attempt at a polite smile.
“The city is just louder than what I’m used to, after joining The Hunt. Its a lot louder than it was back when Nico and I were kids, too. More people, more cars, more trains, more violence.” She explained, and Sally hummed softly as she nodded in sudden understanding. Bianca, and her little brother Nico, had been born in the 1930s in Italy, before being brought to America as children, after their mother was killed by Zeus. While New York hadn’t exactly been small back then, nor quiet, it had certainly been smaller and quieter than it was now. For a young woman who had spent nearly a century inside of the Lotus Casino, only to leave and almost immediately join an organization that spent 99.9% of their time in utter wilderness…yes, she could easily see how overwhelming it could all be.
“Bit of coffee then?” Paul offered, raising the pot towards her in invitation, and both adults broke out into chuckles as Bianca immediately and violently recoiled, nose wrinkling in abject distaste as the scent of the drink wafted across her nose.
“No, thank you all the same. I’ve never understood anyone’s attraction to that sort of thing. If you’re going to drink something hot and brown and full of caffeine, it ought to be hot chocolate.” She huffed, and Sally was quite sure that (had the girl not been born and raised in the 1930s) she would have folded her arms and literally turned her nose up at it. She and Paul chuckled again, her boyfriend (having put the pot down) raising his hands in surrender.
“Fair enough, fair enough.” He said through his quiet amusement, shaking his head and giving Sally a quick glance, eyes gleaming as brightly as she was sure her own were. “In that case, you can find some hot coco mix in the third-from-the-left cabinet above the stove. The kettle is already on and half-full, so you should be able to fix yourself a good mug in moments.”
Bianca brightened, giving him a radiant and grateful smile, before popping to her feet and heading into the kitchen to do just that. The two adults watched as she quickly prepared her sweet drink, dumping in a full two packets of powder and mixing it vigorously, spoon clattering briskly against the inside of the ceramic mug, before she padded back with the steaming container cradled in both hands and slipped back into her seat. Sally watched, first with amusement and then with no small amount of concern, as she lifted the mug to her face and simply held it there, not taking a sip but simply and gently inhaling the scent wafting up towards her. There was a softness to her eyes, a wellspring of emotion that seemed to hide behind their brown depths, and Sally had to bite her tongue to avoid voicing her concern. Clearly, Bianca’s affection for the drink didn’t come only from her appreciation of the taste and her dislike for coffee. No, hot chocolate clearly held some emotional significance to the young woman, some place in her past. Yet as curious as she was, and as much as she wanted to try and comfort the girl or cheer her up, there were a few too many pieces of emotional turmoil and wounds being dealt with at the moment. She didn’t dare try to add to them, especially not so soon after meeting the girl.
Fortunately, the opportunity to pry (ever so gently, of course) was lost to her before she could overcome her caution anyway, as Thalia and Cassie both also shuffled into the room, neither looking any more rested than Bianca was. The daughter of Zeus immediately slumped into a chair beside her cousin, mumbling what was probably meant to be a greeting, though it was thoroughly unintelligible, while her own daughter made her way to the fridge and stuck her head inside. There was a minute of familiar noise as she rummaged around, before emerging with a carton of orange juice and a jar of blueberry jam.
“So, girls. I know I promised we would discuss everything today, and we will, but Paul leaves for work soon and won’t be home until the later half of the afternoon.” Sally addressed the room, ignoring the discomfort she felt at just how comfortable it was to refer to her child as a girl, as Cassandra sat down at the table with a sizeable glass of OJ and a pair of sandwiches. “Therefore, instead of moping around the house all day, I’ve decided that we’re going to go out and about on the town. Make sure you’re gone to the bathroom and cleaned yourselves up a bit, we’re leaving in an hour. We’ll get breakfast while we’re out. Cassie, show your cousins where we keep the extra toothbrushes.”
“Mom, I’d really rather…” her daughter grumbled around the bit of peanut butter and jelly sandwich in her mouth, only to fall silent as she caught her mother’s stern gaze and raised eyebrows. Instead, she simply huffed out a sigh and bobbed her head in acknowledgement, and Sally nodded in satisfaction. She didn’t have to use a look such as that on Perseus often, but it was one she had honed to a fine metaphorical point all the same.
Of course, perhaps her daughter would have rebelled a bit more if Sally had been a little more upfront about the goals of the trip, that being procuring some more feminine clothing for the newly-changed young woman.
Which is exactly why Sally hadn’t mentioned that part.
Oh, she imagined it might seem manipulative. Hell, she will be honest and admit that it was manipulative. It was certainly deceptive, if only by omission. That being said, it was for Cassandra’s own good. The only feminine clothing (and God knew that the spare clothing she had kept for Perseus in this apartment wouldn’t fit any longer, above or below the waist) that her daughter had was the clothing given to her after Artemis had changed her. Not the healthiest thing, mentally, for Cassandra to essentially be ‘trapped’ in.
Though Sally did have to admit that the garments of The Hunt were flattering on her daughter.
The three girls quickly had breakfast and scampered off for a bit of morning hygiene, leaving Sally to bustle about the kitchen, tidying up after the abbreviated meal and seeing Paul off to his daily labours with a warm embrace and a sweet kiss. The fact that he had gotten picked to help run summer school was a double-edged sword: gratifying that he was entrusted with such a task, but it also meant he was still gone often despite it being summer vacation.
Forty-five minutes later, she was sweeping out of her house with the three girls trailing behind her as she headed for the nearest bus stop that would put them on the correct line to take them towards one of the nicer mid-range shopping districts.
The trip was a fairly quick one, fortunately, and one devoid of the common discomforts and minor issues that could come with a ride on public transportation in New York. No drunk people, no druggies, no criminals clearly taking note of whom might be a good mark for a robbery. A better-than-average start to a day that she hoped would turn out to be a fun one.
Before long the four women were stepping back off the bus into a crowded and bustling market. Winding her way through the crowds, keeping a close hand on the teens and a tight grip on her purse, Sally led the way to a small but popular café.
Maybe plying her daughter with hot chocolate and cookies could pacify the inevitable rebellion against clothes shopping.
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It didn’t.
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Cassandra Jackson, who finally wasn’t flinching to herself whenever she thought of herself as a she or heard her new name, was going stir-crazy at home. The shopping trip had ended in tense near-disaster, with her mother and friends trying to encourage her into more feminine clothing even as she resolutely hunted the plainest, most masculine garments she could find. The compromises had been hard fought, bitterly accepted, and had resulted in the four expeditioners returning from whence they came in foul moods of varying degrees. After an hour and a half of sitting and seething in complex and confusing emotions
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand where her mother and friends were coming from. She was a girl now, and she really doubted she would be getting changed back anytime soon. Not if people’s memories were being rewritten to the point that they would, eventually, not even know that she had ever been a boy in the first place. And she certainly wasn’t going to claim to be a greater authority on what was healthy and safe to wear for vigorous physical activity and stuff like that, either. She knew she had a lot to learn, and that some of it had to be learned fast.
But she wasn’t ready, this was too fast.
So, she was going out. She was going to take one of her brand new sports bras, a nice t-shirt, and her new pair of running shoes and she was going to be alone for a little while. Away from her well-meaning mother, away from her overly protective Thalia and anxiously awkward Bianca, away from the agonizing waiting for Paul to get home so that the five of them could finally have the no doubt painfully awkward conversation that had been looming over all of them ever since she had knocked on her mom’s door the night before.
A jog in the nearest park would be perfect. She’d be able to get away from everything and enjoy being out in nature, enjoy physical effort and (though she could hardly acknowledge it to herself) get used to using her body for said physical effort.
Letting herself out and double-checking that she had her key and ID, just in case, she set off down the street at a brisk walk. Not jogging, not yet, because she didn’t want to do that until she had a little bit more privacy in case she humiliated herself, but far from a casual or comfortable stroll.
Not that Pelham Bay Park was the most private place in New York, but it was more private than the sidewalks at least, and certainly quieter than Central Park. Safer, too. If she lost her balance or found that jogging with her new tits was more exhausting or difficult than she thought it was, she would be able to fall down or sit down without risking getting run over by a bus or something equally lethal.
Forty-five minutes later, she was crossing the proverbial threshold into the largest park in New York City. It was beautiful, it was near the ocean, and it was big. More than big enough for her to likely have a bit of privacy, which is what she was really after.
Being concerned about privacy and the implications it might on her safety hardly crossed her mind. The average mugger or sexual predator wouldn’t stand a chance against her in a fight. Really, the only thing she would have to be worried about was accidentally killing the other person. She was used to fighting other demigods and monsters of ancient myth, people and entities that could move faster, hit harder, and take more damage than any bog-standard human could hope for. Sure, a gun would still be a risk, but there was a low chance of that happening and there was plenty of water nearby if she needed it.
Squaring her mental shoulders, she simply…started jogging. Heading nowhere specific, not following any particular route, just jogging and enjoying the moment and the natural world around her. She had always enjoyed the woods, though nowhere near as much as she had enjoyed the sea, but she felt even more at peace amongst nature now than she ever had before. It was soothing, comforting, and she didn’t try to resist the smile that creased her lips as she scented the myriad life around her, took in all the varied sounds of the probably uncountable number of animals around her and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees.
Her jog quickly became more of a stroll as she soaked in the atmosphere, enjoying the dichotomous warmth of the sun and the cool of the shade as made her way through the park. For nearly three hours, Cassandra simply enjoyed the beauty of nature, interacting rarely but positively with other people over the course of her wanderings, before finally heading for home.
Tired, sweaty, sore, and with growing stress from the looming conversation, she didn’t notice the girl her age outside of her mom’s apartment. Didn’t notice the girl taking pictures of the house, didn’t notice the girl noticing her and taking pictures of her, and she definitely didn’t notice the girl watching her enter her mom’s apartment before turning and walking away quickly.
The girl waited until she was nearly a block away from the house, well out of sight and mind of anyone nearby, before she finally looked at her phone, tapping away at its screen as she intently composed a detailed and urgent message. A message she was so intent on sending that she nearly missed the presence of someone in her path as she turned a corner. Heightened situational awareness and reflexes kicked in and she spun out of the way with an equally reflexive bark of aggravation at the person she had nearly run over. Something massive and white loomed in her peripheral and she looked up, just in time to recognize the public bus a handful of feet in front of her. She had half a second recognize that her dodge on the sidewalk had taken her into the street, to hear the shouting around her and hear the shrieking of the bus’ brakes before it slammed into her.
It was perhaps fortunate for her that she did not live long enough to hit the ground and tumble, her neck snapping instantly from the unusual angle of the impact and poor luck. Or, perhaps karma, because as her phone shattered across the ground, it survived just long enough to send her final message.
A picture of Cassandra. An address. A picture of the house. A trident symbol. A skull.
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“Three days! Three! Days!” Poseidon thundered, mist swirling around the head of his trident, the knuckles of his right hand white with tension as they gripped it’s shaft tight enough that there was an audible creak despite the divine nature of everything involved. “For three days my child has been missing, having barely survived saving some of us from our own hubris! For three days, the whole of the Greek world has failed to find my daughter! My daughter, who was once my son, and was left alone on the edge of death after having her body twisted and shaped without notice or desire! Left alone without a word of explanation, without anyone there to comfort her when she awoke! Of all the brainless things…!”
“What…! You wouldn’t even have a daughter if it wasn’t for my actions! I saved her life, Uncle, and I recall you being quite grateful for it at the time!” Artemis snapped, stung and more than a little hurt by Poseidon’s words, even if a small voice in the back of her mind that sounded remarkably like Aunt Hestia reminded her that he didn’t mean it, that he was simply terrified and in pain and lashing out because of it. “It never for an instant crossed my mind that she would be on her feet and gone less than an hour from being on death’s door due to her soul crumbling! I was sure she would sleep for days after that! And even with Thalia ushering her out for some Chaos-forsaken reason, I never would have imagined them evading the whole of Camp Halfblood and my Hunt! The only reasonable explanation is that Bianca found them and helped them leave out of gratitude for saving her life.”
“Ahh~! It’s so romantic!” Aphrodite swooned with a squeal, clasping both hands over her heart as she slumped against the back of her throne with a beatific smile on her face, ignoring the dirty or disapproving looks she was getting from just about everyone else. “The Earth, Sea, and Sky, eloping together to escape the pressures and expectations of their lives, finding love and meaning in one another’s arms as they struggle to find their place in a cruel and unforgiving world!”
“As if any child of mine would fall in love with one of Poseidon’s brats!” Zeus somehow managed to bluster like a man and squall like a child at the same time, thoroughly redirecting Poseidon’s wrath from Artemis and the world in general squarely onto himself, as the Sea God swelled with outrage at the insult to his daughter.
“Thalia should be so lucky as to catch my daughter’s eye!” he retorted, and Artemis was sure he would have shot to his feet in outrage with the words if he hadn’t already been standing. Her father did shoot to his feet, shouting a scathing comment about Poseidon’s daughter in response, and the pair devolved into a very loud, very rude, very dramatic argument. As inappropriate as the thought was, Artemis couldn’t help but think of a pair of howler monkey’s that were, well, howling at one another as she watched them.
“Well, I suppose that’s the meeting finished then.” Demeter sighed, sounding equal parts tired, exasperated, resigned, and amused as she sedately got to her feet, and Artemis nodded in agreement as she looked around the Council chambers. Dionysus was already gone, as were Hephaestus, Hermes, Apollo, and Athena. Ares was watching the fight with his usual faux-apathetic and barely-disguised glee, Aphrodite was still off in her own little plane of existence, and Hera was glaring at the argument with a look that was all too familiar after so many millennia of Zeus’ infidelity.
Then there was Aunt Hestia, tending to the hearth with a faint scowl of discontent creasing her features. A sight that was regrettably becoming more and more common as time went on, as Olympos and those that called it home or paid homage to it grew more and more fractured.
As their family became more and more at odds with one another, as war loomed ever closer on the horizon.
Coming to an abrupt decision, she rose from her own throne and made her way past her arguing father and uncle (which looked to be on the verge of breaking out into a physical confrontation, the two of them now bellowing into each other’s crimson faces.) to lay a hand on her eldest living relative’s shoulder.
“Auntie, I was just going to pay Uncle Hades a visit to see if Bianca has reached out to him,” she offered, keeping the ‘and to see if the girls have died’ to herself, though she was sure that Hestia heard it all the same. “And I was wondering if you would like to join me?”
Hestia looked up at her, and Artemis felt her breath catch in her throat slightly at the sheer depth of the nearly unfathomable exhaustion that filled those eyes before the hearth goddess nodded slowly with a small, tremulous smile, laying her own hand over Artemis’ and squeezing it lightly for a moment.
“A good idea, Artemis. Besides, if he hasn’t heard from Bianca, he would probably appreciate some company. He’s doubtlessly just as worried about her as your father is Thalia and Poseidon is his own daughter, but he has little in the way of comfort or support in the Underworld.” She finally said aloud, and Artemis shook her concerns aside to give her aunt as bright and reassuring a smile as possible, bobbing her head in agreement.
Even as she cursed herself for not thinking of that. For not considering that her uncle might be suffering emotionally from current circumstances. Was she really so oblivious, so apathetic, to the pains of her family unless it was pointed out to her or happening before her very eyes?
The pair of Olympians vanished from the throne room, their departure and absence entirely unnoticed by those who remained, and almost instantaneously found themselves on the edge of the River Styx. Artemis frowned in confusion and consternation. Typically, when visiting her eldest uncle, she was able to teleport directly to the gates of his palace in the heart of the realm that bore his name. To appear here, at the very place even mortals might find themselves, it was…
“Strange. My brother has never before left me on the outskirts of his kingdom.” Hestia murmured, unknowingly giving voice to Artemis’ own thoughts, frowning in concern as she looked around them. “And there are more guards as well.”
It was a testimony, perhaps, to how disoriented that Artemis had been of late that she had missed the approach of a half-dozen skeletons, all heavily armed with weapons from across the eras. Though the undead made no aggressive moves nor had their weapons pointed at the two women, Artemis would certainly say that they had a stern bearing to them, despite being nothing more than bone.
“Lady Hestia, Lady Artemis, welcome to my lord’s kingdom. Lady Persephone is aware of your arrival and has sent transport across the Styx for you, as well as an escort Lord Hades’ palace. Please, follow me.” The lead skeleton rasped, sounding very much like he was from Florida in spite of the fact that he had no tongue, throat, vocal cords, lungs, lips, or anything else that was a necessity for actually being capable of speaking.
“Persephone is aware of us, and has sent a transport? Not my brother?” Hestia asked sharply, her previous morosity gone in the face of her concern for Hades, and the skeleton’s shuffled slightly in a way that could only, despite being nothing more than a clatter of bones and side-long glances with empty eye-sockets, be described as sheepish. Hestia’s eyes narrowed and she folded her arms, and Artemis was sure the skeletons would have gulped had they ability to do so. “What has befallen my brother, soldier of Hades?”
“Lord Hades has been…out of sorts, the last few days. Security had been tightened already, once it became known what exactly occurred with Lady Artemis,” the skeleton responded finally, if uncomfortably, sketching a creaky bow towards the moon goddess. “But it has been tightened further still, as you no doubt saw by your arrival here on the very edge of my lord’s realm. Lady Persephone has spoken for him in all things for some time now. Please, your transport?”
Artemis was sure that her face looked no less concerned, no less fraught with fearful anticipation, than Hestia’s did, but the pair of them silently followed the skeletons to a large raft, laden with more soldiers. Their crossing was quick, propelled by many dozens of arms, and when they reached the far side they found large chariot pulled by six skeletal stallions waiting for them, two dozen horseman saluting as they stepped into the wheeled war-machine.
As they, and their escort, set off down the roads of Hades, Artemis carefully observed their surroundings. It seemed to her as if the whole of the Underworld was being mobilized. Tens of thousands of undead soldiers, from spirits to skeletons to zombies, were training and drilling and marching in rigid formation. Drums thundered, trumpets and horns blared, and under it all the constantly, rolling thunder of marching feet striking the ground in perfect unison (interspersed with the bellowing of officers, of course) filled the air around them, and though she would never admit it, Artemis took a great deal of comfort in the warmth of her aunt’s hand when Hestia took it into her own.
It was so easy, she mused to herself a bit blankly, how easy it was to discount her uncle. He was quiet, withdrawn, rarely upon Olympos and rarely visited by those he called kin. He had none of the flashy power or tempestuousness of the other Olympians, especially not his brothers, and all too easily it allowed everyone to forget the full breadth of his power. The vast legions at his disposal, the minds and intellects he could call to his service, the implacability of the might he wielded.
Death marched at his command, and that seemed to be exactly what was happening.
“It seems my brother and I have a great deal more to discuss than you had thought, niece.” Hestia said calmly as they passed the ranks of guards, the heavy artillery, the tanks, the catapults, and Chaos only knows what else that was encamped around Hades’ palace. Their transport and it’s escort clattered to a halt on the plaza before the main staircase, and the two goddesses found themselves being bowed up those very same stairs as the doors swung open from within to reveal Persephone.
“Thank Chaos that you’re here. I’ve been at my wits end.” The Goddess of Spring sighed with relief at the sight of them, beckoning them forward rather more energetically than she was usually won’t to do, speaking briskly. “Come in, come in, I’ve no time for ceremony or polite chatting, nor am I in the mood.”
“What has befallen my brother, Persephone? Why do his armies prepare, why is his realm so heavily warded, and why is it you speak for him? For that matter, why are you here? Should you not be with your mother? Tis summer, after all.” Hestia asked just as briskly, and Persephone gave a very unladylike snort as she started leading the pair of them through the carpeted, candle-lit halls.
“My mother will keep, my husband and our mutual realm needs me more than she does.” She said bluntly, actually making a slight brushing-off motion with her hands to make it clear just how she felt about the usual seasonal arrangement at the moment. “Hades has been distraught since Bianca went missing alongside her cousins, and the revelation that The Titan King is returning to prominence. Not to mention the fact that many of our most dangerous prisoners have been vanishing from their prisons, which likely means they’ve been called into the mortal world.”
To Artemis’ surprise, there was little bitterness in Persephone’s voice as she spoke about the demigoddess that was proof of her husband’s infidelity. The other goddess must have seen something in her expression, because she waved a hand sharply with a small scowl.
“I was far from happy he knocked some human up when he can barely spend time with Melinoe, but I’ve met Maria Di Angelo. As a matter of fact, she’s staying in the palace, and has been for fifty years. She is…remarkable for a mortal woman and has no interest in trying to supplant me or keep Hades to herself.” She explained, mouth twisting into a wry little smile as she took in their surprise at that. “The first thing she did was apologize to me for sleeping with my husband. The second thing she did was take a strip off of his hide for cheating on me. The third thing she did was take another strip off of his hide for neglecting his true-born daughter, and insist that he fix that fact. It was galling, at first, that it took a human to get my husband to be a proper father, but seeing a similar change in Poseidon with his…with the Child’s existence…well.”
The next several minutes of (very brisk) walking were done in silence, as neither of the guest goddesses had any idea how to respond to that particular influx of emotionally-charged information, and as they came to the end (a large, ornate, double-paneled mahogany door) Artemis could hear the voice of her uncle speaking to someone. The doors swung open at Persephone’s approach, and Artemis’ stride hitched as her eyes fell on Hades, who was kneeling on the ground speaking with young boy through an Iris message.
It took her a moment before she recognized the boy, and gave a low hiss of discomfort as she did. She had been so focused on Bianca, Thalia, and her rescuer that she had neglected to even consider Bianca’s little brother.
“…sorry, Nico, but there is nothing I can do right now. Unless I am willing to risk starting a war amongst Olympos, I can’t send anyone to look for Bianca. Nor can I come to visit you in the camp. The only gods allowed there are Dionysus and Artemis, everyone else must seek permission from the Council, and they would never allow it.” Her uncle was saying, clearly attempting to reassure the child, and even with the poor angle she had distorting the rainbow’s image she could see Nico’s distress. Hades clearly was aware of it as well, because he continued on bracingly with a warm, fatherly smile. “It’s going to be fine, son. You know your sister is perfectly able to take care of herself, and you know that Poseidon’s child is even more capable. With Thalia thrown into the mix, any monster that tries to cause them trouble will find itself dusted in embarrassingly short order.”
His sister had not only joined The Hunt to get away from him (though how aware of that he was, she didn’t know, and she was not cruel enough to bring it up to him), but now had disappeared entirely. Likewise, the young man that had saved he and his sister from monsters, then saved his sister’s life again, had nearly died, been turned into a girl, and vanished as well. He must be in such turmoil, and with Hades forbidden to visit him at that…even with his father’s reassuring words, he had to be suffering terribly.
“Brother, is this my newly rescued nephew I see?” Hestia said suddenly, striding forwards with a radiant smile and gentle eyes, and Hades startled, glancing over at her with wide eyes and a surprised expression.
“Hestia, sister! I…” he started to say, only to be waved into silence as Hestia plopped down beside him, legs crossed under her, as she directed all of her attention to Nico. Though she did give her brother a sharp nudge with an elbow, which prompted the Lord of the Underworld to introduce aunt to nephew. “Nico Di Angelo, your aunt Hestia. Goddess of the Family and the Hearth, and the oldest Olympian. The wisest of us all, and the kindest.”
“Hello, little nephew! It’s wonderful to meet you!” Hestia chirped with genuine happiness, and within a handful of heartbeats had the child rambling away with mounting excitement about some sort of game or another. Her uncle, meanwhile, edged slowly out of view before rising to his feet and coming over to where she and Persephone were standing and waiting.
“I don’t know why you’re here, or how you came to bring my sister with you, but I’m glad for it. I’ve done my best to comfort him, but there is little comfort for a child, especially one whose life has been so recently in such great upheavel as Nico’s, to be told by their father that he cannot help them nor even comfort him personally.” Hades murmured lowly, laying a grateful hand on Artemis’ shoulder and squeezing gently. “Hestia has done more for him in minutes than I have managed in days.”
“You’re welcome, Uncle, though Hestia’s presence was more to distract her from her worries for our family than any sort of prescience on my part. Having someone she can comfort that isn’t part of the problem is likely as good for her as her presence is for your son.” She responded honestly, before glancing over at him. “I’m guessing, based on what I heard of your conversation with him, that you have not heard from Bianca since she and her cousins went missing from the camp?”
“Not a word or a sign, nor have they come to any sort of fatal harm. I had considered sending Tisiphone and her sisters out to search for them, but my Furies are better at hunting those with whom I am cross, not those I love.” He denied, shaking his head unhappily, and Artemis dipped her head in acknowledgement, though her lips quirked.
“Have you considered being cross with Poseidon’s child for leading Bianca astray? It might enable the sisters to find her. Then all of our problems will be solved with little fuss and less muss.” She offered the jest dryly, and Hades chuckled softly in appreciation, even as Persephone huffed and rolled her eyes beside them.
“I doubt it would meet with much success. I’m afraid the girl’s salvation of yourself and my children, more than once at that, would make it rather impossible regardless of how hard I tried. And I don’t think I could try very hard.” He responded, sounding genuinely amused by the prospect, and Artemis smiled a small but genuine smile as she lightened his heart, even if only slightly.
They watched, making small talk that Persephone occasionally involved herself in, as Hestia eased Nico Di Angelo’s mental and emotional anguish for a while longer, before sternly but loving banishing him to dinner and a good night’s sleep.
Later, much later, Artemis would thank Chaos for that fact, because not fifteen minutes later Tisiphone stormed into the room, dragging a struggling, screaming soul behind her, her barbed whip wrapped around the young woman’s ghost as she clawed at it.
“Lord Hades, Ladies Artemis and Hestia, forgive my trespass!” the Erinyes spoke quickly, bowing to each of them in turn, a sharp yank of her dominant arm sending her victim sprawling across the ground in front of them, and Artemis’ eyes widened. She didn’t know this soul well, or even know their name, but she did recognize her. A daughter of Hermes that had refused to join the Hunt some years ago and disappeared on a quest a year and a half prior. “I couldn’t wait any longer. This traitor was a part of a strike team sent by Luke Castellan to kill the Three Daughters. Her comrades are hunting them through New York City even now. We don’t have much time.”
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