Forsaken Chapter Three

Forsaken

Chapter Three

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Camp Half-Blood was a scene of chaos, barely coordinated but energetic, as anyone and everyone spilled half-dressed and barely awake from their cabins, summoned by the shouts of the camp staff and the Goddess of the Moon herself. Demigods poured into the amphitheater, watching the deeply concerned Chiron and the nearly frantic and impatient moon deity with a deep sense of unease. None of them were unaware of the dangerous, volatile, devolving situation outside the magical barrier protecting their camp, and the presence of one of the Olympian Council (especially this member, so soon after a quest to save her) lay a distinct and heavy weight of trepidation across them all.

Trepidation that was well-deserved, for the goddess and Chiron quickly and firmly explained that The Child of the Sea had gone missing from their cabin, emphasizing that while the Child’s injuries had been physically healed by Artemis’ intervention, they were in no condition whatsoever to be wandering alone in the woods. The camp was mustering out to search the woods and find her as quickly as possible, before some manner of disaster befell her.

Inspired and, in many cases, enthusiastic to complete their newly provided mission, the campers dispersed. Parties were organized, grids of responsibility were carefully established and laid out, and the search began. Armed with flashlights, radios, weapons and first aid kits, they poured out into the woods, shouting for the Child of the Sea to come out so they could help her.

Had any of them been able, they might have thought it strange, thought it remarkable, thought it worrisome and worthy of comment that none of them were objecting to Artemis’ characterization of the Child of Poseidon as a she rather than a he. Nor did it occur to any of them that they weren’t actually calling for her by name, nor that they didn’t actually know her name. It certainly never crossed their minds that their mental image of her had changed from a boy with black hair to a girl with silver hair.

But they weren’t able, the thoughts didn’t cross their minds, for the primordial threads that bound Creation together were re-weaving the story of Perseus Jackson. Every moment, every breath, every thought and memory of the Son of the Sea was being rewritten. Only those who had been closest to him, or those of sufficient divinity, would remember him as he was, rather than who she was now. Which was fortunate, because otherwise the collected children of Olympos would be too busy asking very angry, very confused questions of a very irate and worried goddess, likely to their detriment.

Though none of them, demigods, immortals, and divinities alike, knew it, the world had shifted. A new course had been laid, a new fate written, and what might have been was now as irrevocably changed as what once was.

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“Get down!” Thalia whispered harshly into one delicate, silver-shrouded ear, as she grabbed the slender form of she-who-was-once-Percy and hit the ground, pulling the other girl down with her, as yet another group of campers thundered past. She growled in aggravation, her professional sensibilities offended by how oblivious the group of six had been. She knew that they were used to fighting monsters, for whom ‘subtlety’ was neither a well-known nor oft-practiced trait, but the total lack of situation awareness was as appalling as it was convenient. For God’s sake, her partner had silver hair! Not exactly something that was hard to spot in the middle of the night! If she wasn’t more concerned with getting her partner (who needed a name, since despite knowing who she was, Thalia had quickly found herself entirely and literally incapable of calling her by…by… by her old name, even in her head, and calling her not-Percy was depressing and infuriating alike) as far from that bitchas humanly possible, she would have turned this into a real teaching moment.

“Thalia, is this really necessary? We could just tell Chiron that we want to go visit mom and Paul, instead of sneaking around like a couple of thieves trying to hide from the cops!” the other girl gave a somewhat muffled hiss of displeasure from where her face was partially covered, pressed up against the gentle swell of Thalia’s breasts, the daughter of Zeus’ arms wrapped around her head and holding her tightly there. Purely for the sake of keeping that beautiful, bright silver hair as covered as possible, of course.

“No way that will work, Seaweed Brain. I’d be surprised if Chiron let you leave camp again until that fucker and the rest of his little friends are dealt with. You’re public enemy number one for them now, you know that right? After the number of times you’ve fucked up Kronos and Luke’s plans, they have gotto want your head on a plate. Now shush, I’m listening.” Thalia hissed back quietly, straining her ears for any sign of other searchers. She wasn’t exaggerating or lying, either. Luke had already tried to kill her Seaweed Brain (that would do for now, thank you kindly Annabeth) once, and that was just back when she had been a brand-new, freshly-discovered demigod with no training and a whole lot of luck. So many ruined plans of Kronos now lay at the feet of The Child of Poseidon that their mutual grandfather would have to be stupid as well as insane and cruel to ignore the threat she posed. “Besides, who knows what else Artemis has in mind for you? She’s already turned you into a girl, even if she did heal you, so…”

Not Thalia’s most solid argument, especially when compared to the one immediately preceding it, but she quite literally felt the other girl wilt against her at the reminder, and she couldn’t help but feel a dark satisfaction that honestly sickened her for a moment before she pushed the emotion away. It might have hurt her partner, that reminder, but Thalia only had her best interests at heart. Whatever her half-sister wanted with the Child of Poseidon, Thalia doubted it was being done from a place of kind generosity. That wasn’t how the gods, Artemis prominent amongst them, did things.

“Gave me hair her favorite color too…” The Child mumbled, and Thalia made a soft sound of realization. She hadn’t thought of that, but it was true, and it certainly didn’t improve her opinion of the situation nor dissuade her from assuming the worst.

They lay there a few moments more, silently listening and watching for anyone else who might be in the vicinity, before Thalia finally released her companion and stood. Taking a moment to admire her partner’s form, Thalia offered the silver-haired demigoddess a hand. The Child clasped it, allowing herself to be pulled up, before looking down at her dirt-and-leaf covered clothes with a faint moue of distaste. Thalia mirrored her, frowning as well, and a chorus of soft but firm pats echoed through the air as the pair set about dusting themselves off to the best of their abilities.

“Listen, before we start moving again…” Thalia said slowly, cautiously as she searched the other’s face and eyes carefully. “I can’t…I can’t say your name anymore. Whatever Artemis did, I can’t even think your name anymore. We…I…look, we need to figure out a new name for you. Something that I can call you, in my head and out loud. Right now all I can do is call you Seaweed Brain or Child of Poseidon, and it’s really pissing me off.”

Full lips grimaced, burgundy eyes taking on a sad sheen to them as they dropped to the floor, their owner wilting again, stoking the embers of Thalia’s anger quite handily. God, she hated how morose her savior had been since waking up, how downtrodden. It wasn’t natural, it wasn’t what she was supposed to look like, how she was supposed to act. It was wrong.

“…Cassandra, I guess. Cassie or Cass for short.” The newly-renamed demigoddess finally decided, a bitter twist to her lips that could be called a smile only in the most paradoxical of terms. “I’d go with Andromeda to keep my mom’s naming theme going here, but Andromeda spent her life being sacrificed to monsters by her parents and being rescued by someone else. A little too on the nose for me.”

“So you decided to name yourself after a woman who was raped by Ajax and enslaved by Agamemnon before getting murdered by his wife and her lover instead?” Thalia asked, disbelieving, and Cassandra grimaced before shaking her head.

“I forgot about that part, actually. I was thinking more along the lines of ‘woman fated to see the future and try to warn people about it, but be summarily ignored by everyone until it’s too late’.” She responded, and Thalia grimaced in turn, because (when Cassie put it that way) the name was actually painfullyappropriate. She might not have been around for most of it, but she had heard the stories. People ignoring Cassie, especially when it involved quests, usually didn’t end well for anyone involved.

“Cassandra it is. Let’s get moving, it’s going to take us ages to get far enough away from the camp that we can catch a bus or something. Unless you have a spare drachma for the Grey Sisters?” the daughter of Zeus sighed in aggravation, only to brighten as Cassie’s hand dipped into her pocket and emerged with a gleaming coin, which she offered to Thalia, who took it with a grin. “Awesome! Now all we need to do is find a quiet road and give them a call. That will cut our travel time down by hours!”

The pair set off again, totally unaware that they were not alone in the least. For all that Thalia had been sneering at the noise and lack of awareness with which the other campers were searching for Cassie, both of them had missed a far more obvious and very-close-in-proximity ‘threat’ to their ‘escape’. Less than five or six yards away, lingering in the shadow of a tree trunk, Bianca DiAngelo (dressed in the bright silver clothing for which The Hunt was famed) watched as her cousins snuck away. Compared to the other campers they were silent, but to her enhanced senses and the things she had learned during her admittedly short time with The Hunt so far, they made more than enough noise for her to track them.

She knew that she was supposed to call attention to them, she knew that she was supposed to reveal their presence and help to escort them back to camp where they could be kept safe but…she was torn. Cassandra (and her heart ached at her hero’ reasoning for choosing that name!) had saved her and her brother at their school, had helped take care of Nico when she joined the Hunt, had not only saved her a second time, but saved Zoe as well. Held up the sky, out-smarted Atlas, and rescued Lady Artemis. She owedCassandra, owed her a debt that would be impossible to repay, even if she spent the rest of her life trying.

She couldn’t turn the pair in, but she couldn’t let them leave alone either. Which meant there was really only one solution.

She padded after them, a whisper on the breeze, watching as they avoided patrol after patrol until they finally reached a road sufficient to call the Grey Sisters. Even as Thalia’s hand dipped into a pocket, withdrawing the coin, Bianca stepped up beside her (with dramatic timing yet a casual air) and deftly flicked her own drachma into the air, her lips forming the magic words.

As the battered taxi screeched to a halt in front of them, she looked at the surprised and suspicious expressions of her cousins with a raised eyebrow and a small half-smile.

“What? We’re going to visit Cassie’s mom, aren’t we? I want to tell her all about how her son-cum-daughter saved my life a half-dozen times in the space of a week. Besides, I’ve heard all about her blue cookies, I can’t pass up the chance to try them now.” She said innocently, tilting her head slightly to the side as they stared at her, the doors to the Grey Sister’s transport opening with the squeal of unkempt metallic joints.

The following ride to the Jackson/Blofis residence was as short as it was awkward, something that all three of the collected Daughters of the Big Three considered to be a blessing. None of them were quite sure what to say to either of the others, and an unspoken agreement seemed to have grown between them that they would remain silent until after they had reached their destination. As reluctant as teenagers often were to accept the guidance or over-sight of the dreaded adults, this was one situation where all three were more than willing for the inevitable conversation to be moderated by a mom. A conversation that was guaranteed to be rather on the fraught side of things.

When they arrived, the Earth and the Sky noticed the discomfort in the expression and the bearing of the Sea, as she looked with painfully obvious apprehension at the door and walls separating herself from her mother and almost-stepdad. Even to Thalia, whose relationship with her mother left…everything to be desired, her worry about what her mother would think of her and the changes that had been inflicted upon her was painfully obvious. Neither of them could truly understand it, never having been in such a position (or even one remotely similar) for one reason or another, but they could sympathize with her.

“C’mon, Cassie, we both know that your mom isn’t going to cause you any hassle over this. I think what you really need to be worried about is her marching over to Camp and giving Artemis a piece of her mind. Which, by the way, I would totally love to watch. I think it would be hilarious.” Thalia told the burgundy-eyed beauty bracingly, giving her a side-ways shoulder-hug and squeeze. Cassandra’s lips quirked slightly upwards, a miniscule expression of amused agreement but a damn sight better than her previous look regardless, as she nodded and took a fortifying breath before making her way towards the door. The other two exchanged glances behind her back as they followed, waiting patiently as she gathered herself to knock on the door. Her knuckled rose and fell against the hardwood panel thrice, the sound resounding, and there was a faint voice from within in acknowledgement.

The handful of seconds following seemed interminable, seeming to stretch on for an eternity despite the brevity of the actual time that passed. The sound of footsteps, so clear to their semi-divine senses, growing louder and louder as they grew closer and closer. The slight rattle as the doorknob was grasped, the click of the bolt and tumblers as it was unlocked and turned, and the creak of the hinges as it swung open to reveal Sally Jackson.

“Hello, what can I…?” she asked with a warm, if slightly confused, smile, only to trail off into silence as her eyes met those of her genderbent son. There was a recognition there, an instinctual knowledge that stretched beyond what the mind could rationalize, and Cassandra gave her a tremulous smile.

“Hey mom, I, uh…I’m home.”

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Sally Jackson had seen a lot of things, experienced a lot of things, in her life. She had lost her parents to a plane crash, been ‘raised’ by an uncle that had neither the time nor the knowledge to take care of her, had to drop out of school to take care of him when he got cancer. She had been the lover to a god, had a dozen nights of literally divine passion, and been gifted with the thing she treasured most: her son. Her precious baby boy, her Perseus. A boy that, Poseidon assured her, was well named. Would be just as much of a hero as his namesake.

She had raised that boy, loved that boy, cherished that boy. Watched him grow up and become a young man, strong and brave and with a heart of gold, eager to stick up for those he cared about and dedicated to doing the right thing. She had suffered with a smile to protect that boy, all the love she felt for him wiping away any tears and fading any bruises. She had even found herself kidnapped for that boy, stolen away by her lover’s more reasonable brother, kept imprisoned for a time in the Underworld itself until he had come for her. She had felt the terror when Chiron told her that her baby had nearly been murdered by one of his friends, a fellow camper that had turned traitor.

She had felt the fear, the doubt, the gnawing dread as her son had continued to prove the sea god’s words true, confronting greater and more deadly challenges. She had felt the pride, the approval, the joy as he continued to succeed, to grow, to advance as both a hero and a man as he conquered obstacle after obstacle.

Then, not an hour ago, a beautiful girl with two equally beautiful friends had shown up at her front door. A girl that, despite having never seen her before in her life, she somehow recognized. The fact that she had been accompanied by Thalia Grace, a daughter of Zeus that Sally recognized quite well, had at least been reassuring.

Then the silver-haired girl had called her mom, and she had felt a little bit of her world fall apart.

Now she was experiencing something she had never experienced, nor had ever considered experiencing.

Her baby boy was now her baby girl, a girl of breathtaking beauty, but one who had lost so many of the features that she had loved for so long. Her hair, once dark and messy and reminding Sally achingly of her departed father, now a silver curtain. Her eyes, once a beautiful sea-foam green, just like those of Poseidon, now a deep burgundy. Her skin, once a light tan, had darkened to a Mediterranean bronze. Her body, once growing into a muscular, lean and powerful build, was now blatantly feminine, the musculature shifted from power to agility and grace.

Now, Sally wasn’t stupid. It was very obvious to her that Thalia had one hell of an axe to grind with Artemis, that Bianca was trying to keep things calm and blunt Thalia’s influence on the subject (and knew a bit more about the situation than she was saying at the moment), and that her daughter was feeling torn between gratitude for the moon deity saving her life and the understandable fear and anger and hurt over having had her gender changed without her consent or knowledge.

The only thing all three agreed on was that Cassandra hadbeen dying, rapidly, when Artemis had decided to intervene. That all the ambrosia that could be provided and all the efforts of the Apollo cabin had been utterly fruitless. That Cassie would likely have already died by nowif not for this transformation that had been rendered unto her. That alone had Sally willing to give Artemis the benefit of the doubt, despite being fully aware of how fickle and callous the gods could be. Besides, despite the narrative Thalia was insisting on (when she wasn’t ranting about her half-sister trying to molest Cassie in her sleep, anyway), it was obviously not a punishment. First of all, Artemis wouldn’t consider turning a man into a woman to be a punishment in the least. Far more likely she would consider it a reward, really. Secondly, if Artemis was really so furious at Cassie for not only rescuing her but also saving the doomed-by-prophecy Bianca and Zoe, she likely would have simply killed him outright.

That second point was, paired with the knowledge that Artemis had kissed her sleeping daughter and had given her an appearance that could certainly be described as fitting Artemis’ favored aesthetics, the most pertinent. Bianca had been vocal in her praise of Cassie and the fact that she was destined to die on the quest, that Cassie had stopped that from happening against a decree of the Fates themselves. Then, she had done so a second time, preserving the life of Zoe Nightshade. The huntress who had been with Artemis since Heracles had walked the earth, the person the goddess valued most out of any being, past or present alike. No, an altogether different picture had been painted for Sally Jackson, and while she wasn’t happy about some of the puzzle pieces (giving a sleeping lover a kiss was romantic between couples, but utterly unacceptable otherwise) it was clear to her that Artemis had tried to do right by her child. With ulterior motives, perhaps, but no one could reasonably expect otherwise.

“We’re going to talk about this in the morning.” She had decreed when they were finished, and upheld hand silencing the protests that began to spill from several pairs of lips, glancing over at the silently observing Paul. Her boyfriend was rather nicely taking this in stride, much to his credit, and she looked forward to hearing his take on things. First things were first, however. “All of us are much too emotional at the moment to have a reasonable discussion about this, it would be asking for trouble and more pain for everyone involved. I’m not going to let that happen. Cassie, I want you and Thalia to go and get the guestroom ready for Thalia and Bianca. Bianca will take the first shower, then Thalia, then you. Understood?”

Her tone brooked no argument, and three semi-divine heads bobbed obediently before Sea and Sky headed off down the hall. A speaking glance at Paul had him nodding and following, both to lend a hand and to keep the two girls busy for a few minutes, and Sally turned her eyes to the nervous Bianca.

“We don’t have much time before they’re done, and I know you know more about this situation than you’re letting on in front of my daughter and Thalia. Probably because they couldn’t handle it right now. Tell me.” She ordered, and the huntress started speaking. She spoke quickly, filling in a few details and adding another perspective to the situation, before telling the mother of her savior what her Lady had told her.

For Sally, many things became clear. The girls had explained to her that Cassie had defied a prophecy to save lives, but she hadn’t remotely grasped just how serious a thing that was. From what Artemis had told her Hunt, and Sally was willing to believe it, the Fates had confronted her and informed her that Cassandra’s actions in defiance of the prophecy were dangerous to the cohesion of creation, dictating balance be restored by her death. That they had heavily hinted at a solution, one Artemis had latched upon and carried out, resulting in the current situation. That Artemis was frantic with worry, for Sally’s assumptions were correct: not only was she deeply grateful for ensuring her own freedom and the salvation of her oldest and dearest friend (Sally made a mental note to talk to Bianca sometime about how she had not even acknowledged that Artemis would have been saddened by the Daughter of Hades’ own death), but was also more emotionally invested in Cassandra’s wellbeing than any in the Hunt had ever seen for an outsider.

That clinched it: Artemis was at the very least crushing on her daughter, if not in love with her.

That left Sally in an awkward spot. On the one hand, her own relationship with Poseidon had been the happiest times of her life, though she had to admit that her evolving romance with Paul was certainly climbing the ranks. There was plenty of pride as well, pride that her son-turned-daughter had the hearts of not only the two girls who had followed her here (though whether or not they had even acknowledged that fact to themselves yet, she wasn’t sure) but also of a goddess who was known for stubbornly, even violently, avoiding even the thinnest romance.

On the other hand, Artemis wasn’t exactly known in mythology for handling anything related to romance, or emotions in general, particularly well. Even by the standards of the Olympians, which were pretty damn low to begin with. She was prone to rash fits of anger and irrational behavior, and Sally was certainly afraid of what it might mean if Cassie somehow angered her or lost her favor. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all, and Sally was sure that went double for volatile immortals.

This was the goddess, after all, who had her followers hunt down and murder a bear that just so happened to have been another of her followers who had been impregnated via rape by her own father, when said father had stolen Artemis’ appearance and identity to commit the rape in the first place. Not exactly the most rational behavior.

So, the question was this: what should Sally say and do from here?

Besides consult with Paul, that is, because there was no way that she was making any decisions or dispensing any advice without receiving some of her own. She was too close to this situation, just like the girls were, and she was smart enough to know that an outside, thoroughly mortal perspective could only be beneficial. And a man’s perspective as well, God knew that men and women thought about things quite differently, and she was positive Paul would have noticed and considered things that had passed her by entirely, much as he had probably missed a few things that she had taken note of. The nature of teamwork, she mused with a somewhat besotted smile as she sent Bianca off to the shower, absently noting with amusement the relief that radiated off of the teen as she departed with haste that bordered on undignified.

Shaking her head, she headed into the kitchen to prepare some food. The routine would help her think and calm down a bit, and she knew that the kids would be starving when the adrenaline wore off. Tommorow would be hard on all of them, but they would figure things out and make it through, just like they always had and always would. Maybe not as mother and son, any longer, but she knew without a doubt that mother and daughter would be no different.

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