by Zachary Howe
“Gordon Leonhart,” the ether around him whispered as the world continued to darken, “I hold your task fulfilled.” Everything went black.
Gordon . . .
Gordon, you have to get up . . .
It’s not over yet . . .
Get up, Gordon.
Just as quickly as the light had disappeared it rushed forth to meet him. Golden light exploded into his mind. He felt his body lifted from the mossy earth, his arms outstretched. Cords of fire tore through him and immobilized him. He heard his yell, a battle cry that could move mountains, and then he fell to his knees.
The forest floor swirled in and out of focus as he panted. He felt as though he could sleep forever, while also feeling a great new surge of energy and power within. He realized, as he clenched the soft floor beneath him, that it was his choice.
His breathing slowed. The greens and browns began to take shape until he could see the spores of the lichen. The babble of the brook spoke to him, as did the chitter of squirrels and the bird songs. He felt a hand on his shoulder and saw her silver knees on the forest floor before him. Gordie lifted his head and looked into Artemis’s eyes.
“Hey.” He smiled weakly.
“Are you well?” Artemis asked.
“Yeah, I’m good. The egg?” he asked in a whisper.
“Here.” She handed it to him and he hugged it. Its warmth cemented his reality.
“Why?” he breathed. “Why did you give me your blessing?” He stared at her.
“You bested the gryphon. No hunter has ever done that. What is more, no hunter has ever refused such a glorious kill. The hunter revels in death. You . . .” she looked down with her brow furrowed, “you cherish life.” She lifted him to his feet and placed her hands on his shoulders. He looked up at her with blazing pride, and she smiled at him. “It seems I have much to learn from you.”
Gordie sat back on his heels, took a deep breath, and rose to his feet. He felt the familiar strength coursing through him, and more. He looked down at his clenched fist. His strength had increased—he was certain of it. He could not explain it, but he could feel it. His energy had returned as well. He had not slept in a day, but he would not need to for another. He had succeeded in a task. Somehow it felt more legitimate than Hades’s trial. He had sought out a deity, demanded a task of her, and completed it—maybe not to the letter, but she had deemed him worthy all the same. Gordie looked up into Artemis’s face, which did not seem so high as the last time they stood toe to toe.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” Artemis looked at him with her head cocked to the side.
“You didn’t have to consider my task complete,” he stared up at her with his forehead wrinkled, “you chose to.”
“You earned it.” She shrugged and turned away, walking up the river bank.
“Will you choose then,” Gordie asked quietly, “to forgive your brother?”
Artemis froze. “I have already told you it is not so simple,” she said, still looking away. “And your completion of my task changes nothing. We are still bound until Apollo’s task is completed.” Gordie thought about this for a moment.
“Then will you at least come with me to talk to him?”
She remained silent and he waited, watching her long silver hair flutter against her back.
“I feel I have already done enough for you,” she said.
“True, but you did pull a fast one on me and it has some pretty serious consequences. Could even end up getting me killed now that your dad is free to come for me, which of course means you’ll go with me.” Gordie paused to let this sink in. “Plus, your brother is now free to search high and low for you. You never know, he might end up finding you.” He smiled, pleased with himself, but wiped it from his face when Artemis turned to survey him without giving an answer.
Then the trees around them erupted into an angry and frightened chatter. Gordie looked up in alarm and saw birds streaking out of the boughs and squirrels rocketing away from the area. What was most disturbing about the scene was that he understood what the creatures were saying.
“Run! Run! Danger comes! An angry messenger nears!”
Gordie was bewildered as he watched Artemis scan the forest. “They’re saying that danger is coming!” he blurted out.
“I know that! How do you know that?” Artemis looked at him, her face blended in a cocktail of alarm and confusion.
“I don’t know!” Gordie threw up his hands. “I can understand them somehow!”
A sound like a descending bomb whistled through the wood and the arguers were suddenly splashed with water. They looked towards the stream as a young man replete in a toga cinched with a gold belt—which had a belt buckle adorned with tiny wings, matching those on his sandals and cap—rose from the brook.
“You can understand them,” Hermes growled, “because you completed her task.” He pointed his serpentine caduceus at Artemis without averting his gaze from Gordie. “I would have thought you were beginning to understand how these things worked.” He stepped out of the water and grabbed Gordie by the shirtfront. “But then, if you understood your predicament, you probably would not have brought her here,” he jabbed his staff towards Artemis again, “effectively eradicating the boundaries I worked so hard to construct between the realms, leaving you vulnerable to attack by the most powerful being in the cosmos!”
Hermes’s face was an inch from Gordie’s. Gordie pushed him away and wiped the spittle from his cheeks. He was about to respond (angrily) when there was a blur and a thud, followed by the sound of wind being released from lungs. Artemis had Hermes pinned against a tree, holding him by the front of his robes as his feet dangled a foot above the ground.
“You disabled the borders?” she asked in a whisper. In Gordie’s opinion, it was the most dangerous she had ever sounded. “What gives you the right to do so?” Hermes looked at her with wide-eyes. He looked scared, but defiant.
“I had no choice!” Hermes bit back. “The King was going mad! He is hungry to destroy this world! Your precious forests included,” he snarled. “This boy is our only hope, and you have put him in grave danger with your selfishness.”
“My selfishness?” Artemis lifted Hermes higher up the tree—Gordie heard the sound of scraping bark. “You decide to thwart the King of Olympus by yourself for your own personal glory and you have the audacity to accuse me of selfishness?”
“Personal glory?” Hermes spat. “Where is there glory in enlisting a mortal’s help?” Gordie wanted to defend himself, but Artemis took up the mantle.
“He is no mere mortal.” She pressed her face close to Hermes’s. Gordie felt a rush of affection for her. “He is the descendant of Heracles, as you well know.”
“Yes, and we all know how that oaf turned out,” said Hermes.
“Gordon is different.” Artemis pressed him harder into the tree. Gordie heard the trunk groan and wondered if it was merely settling or if it was another sentient tree, protesting its use as a torture device.
“It’s okay,” Gordie said, placing his hand on Artemis’s shoulder. “Thank you, Artemis.” She dropped Hermes who slid to the ground before she walked away. Hermes stood up straight and adjusted his robes as one does after being harried. “Did you come here just to yell at me?” Gordie asked, looking Hermes in the eye. He took great pleasure in being eye level with an Olympian.
“I prefer ‘teach’ to ‘yell,’ but I suppose it comes down to the same thing.” Hermes smirked. “More than anything, I have come to warn you. Now that the boundaries are down,” he scowled over Gordie’s shoulder at Artemis, “you must tread lightly. The King of Olympus is still oblivious to your survival, and I will continue to keep him in the dark, but you must be wary. The moment he learns of you—and it is my unfortunate opinion that he eventually will—he will come for you. So too shall he discover that the realms are open, and soon. But I do not believe he will act against the mortals immediately. After all, he feels there is no one to stand a
gainst him, so we have some time.”
Artemis scoffed. “Some, but not much,” she said.
“Yes, thank you.” Hermes glared at her. “Indeed, time is of the essence. It is imperative that you complete your tasks. You completed hers, yes?” Hermes gestured towards Artemis.
“Yeah, but I can’t finish Apollo’s until she forgives him,” Gordie said.
“Well, just forgive him,” Hermes said to Artemis. She scoffed again. “There is much more at stake here than your petty grudges.” Gordie quickly stepped between them, holding Artemis at bay with an outstretched arm.
“Petty grudges?” Her eyes were wide and wild. “I’ll show you petty grudges.” Gordie struggled against her.
“All right, enough,” he said, and she stalked away again. “It’s not that simple, okay?” He turned back on Hermes.
“Thank you,” Artemis said.
“Fine, but it would behoove you to change her mind.” Hermes straightened himself again. “And then you must deal with the other gods. Now, Aphrodite and Dionysus are on Olympus, and are very much sympathetic to their father’s cause, so it would be best to avoid them, which shouldn’t be a problem. Hephaestus could be problematic—you may recall I recently had a run in with him myself. Ares will be unpredictable as always. Who knows about Athena—”
“Hang on,” Gordie said. “It sounds like you’re pretty much unsure about all of them . . .”
“Well, it’s complicated,” Hermes fidgeted. “We know that Apollo will be welcoming, and Hades,” he added with the air of one seeking approval.
“Yes, we know that, as I have already dealt with them,” Gordie said, with his jaw clenched.
“Forgive me,” Hermes snapped, “I guess I’ve had my hands full trying to shield you from a homicidal deity.”
“All right, I’m sorry.” Gordie walked away and joined Artemis by the stream. “So what do ya say?” Gordie asked her as she looked across the stream into the trees. “Will you please come with me to see Apollo?” She remained silent for a while.
“I will accompany you to my brother’s lookout,” Artemis said, with a snarl. “If for no other reason than to ensure he never comes looking for me again.” She turned towards Gordie and grinned with malicious satisfaction. He was conflicted: elated that she was coming, but very doubtful about a potential reconciliation.
“Good enough for me!” He smiled despite himself.
“Oh, jolly good,” Hermes said as he approached them from behind. “How many does that leave?” He started ticking gods off on his fingers. “Athena, Aphrodite, Dionysus, Demeter, Hephaestus, Ares, Poseidon, Hera—that should be a treat—”
“All right, I get it,” Gordie snapped. Hermes was really starting to test his nerves. “Clock’s a-tickin’. So, if there’s nothing else, can we be on our way?”
“Certainly!” Hermes pulled his head back, looking affronted. “Don’t let me keep you. Just saving your life is all.” He threw his arms up and began walking away.
“Yeah, you mentioned it, thanks,” Gordie said to his back. Hermes looked back over his shoulder.
“Don’t thank me—just get to Apollo’s.” With that he turned and burst through the trees, the little wings on his apparel flapping feverishly.
“Man, he’s an ass,” Gordie said, shaking his head.
“Indeed.” Artemis turned to look at him. “It would be wise for us to make for Koryfion.” She scowled as she mentioned Apollo’s realm. “Before I change my mind.”
“All right, lead the way.” Gordie held his hand out as if she were leading him to the nearest convenience store.
“Do you think I can just walk there?” Artemis asked.
“I don’t know!” Gordie threw up his hands. “I figured you knew how to get there!”
“I do, but it is not so simple as snapping one’s fingers. There are very few means to access that place.” She appraised him with an eyebrow raised. “You are difficult to understand, young man.”
“Thanks!” Gordie smiled. “Why don’t we just go back to Chiron’s—I completely forgot that my family is going to be looking for me.” A wave of anxiety crashed over him at the thought of them. After all he had faced over the course of the last night his mom would probably still be the most harrowing.
“Lead the way.” Artemis waved her hand forward, and Gordie stepped through the underbrush.
He led Artemis through the forest with his clothes still wet from the river, but the forest of Pelion was much warmer than that of Dasos, so he did not mind. What’s more, he was on an absolute high. He knew he should be worried about Zeus, but Hermes had said that the King of Olympus was still clueless about his survival. He had completed another task and was feeling the power surge through him on this glorious morning, and soon he would be reuniting Apollo and Artemis—he was that much closer to ticking off another trial. In short order he found the path and made his way back towards Chiron’s cave. As they went, he listened to the conversation of the creatures in the forest with fascination.
“How many acorns have you stored, Master Branch Walker?” a brown squirrel asked a gray squirrel as the two perched on a branch.
“Many winters worth, Great Leaf Hopper,” the gray squirrel boasted. “And yourself?”
“More than the forest floor can hold!” the brown squirrel laughed heartily. Gordie nearly ran into a tree as he watched this exchange.
Then a bluebird fluttered down onto his shoulder and cocked its head at him. “Hey,” it squawked, “you got any seeds?”
“Uh, no. Sorry, man.” Gordie shrugged.
“No worries.” The bird flew away and Gordie heard it sing as it went, “Lookin’ for seeds, lookin’ for seeds. Lost ma baby, now ahm just lookin’ for seeds.”
“Do you hear all this?” Gordie’s face was split wide with wonder as he turned and asked Artemis as she glided over the forest floor behind him.
“Hm? Oh, yes,” she said, “you get used to it. You will learn to tune it out eventually.” She flipped her hand dismissively.
The pair stepped out of the forest onto the dirt ramp that led to Chiron’s cave. Gordie stopped for a moment to bask in the sun’s glow, his face lifted and his eyes closed. It had been quite a while since he’d felt warm. Artemis had apparently picked up the trail as she swept past him and made her way towards the awaiting cavern. Gordie opened his eyes and, as he watched her climb the steady slope, butterflies began to fill his stomach. He did not know if his family was anxiously waiting for him to return, or if they were out looking for him, but he would be confronting them soon, and his mom would not be happy. Artemis disappeared into the cave and he ran to catch up.
Gordie’s footsteps echoed in the narrow corridor while Artemis’s confident strides produced no sound. In seconds they stepped into the lightening expanse that was the Great Hall. A clattering sound filled the air, closely followed by the sound of a lot of liquid spilling, and then a steady dripping. Gordie and Artemis stood side by side in the entrance, the subjects of three sets of gawking eyeballs.
Atalo sat frozen in his chair at the grand table with his empty hand hovering below his chin as if it still held his mug. His eyes were the size of beach balls. Ellie sat next to him with her mouth hanging open, the bright orange pieces of her half-masticated carrot tumbling out of her open mouth. Bridget had been sitting with her back to the late arrivals, but she had since turned, and was now fixing Artemis with a glare that clearly said, ‘I’m so not impressed.’
Nobody moved for a full thirty seconds until Ellie began to rise from the table, her wide-eyes narrowing on Gordie as she did so. She edged around the table and approached her son. At first she walked slowly, cautiously, but then picked up steam.
“I thought,” she said through gritted teeth, “that you were still in bed.” The hall echoed with the sound of her footsteps, pierced by the steady drip, drip of Atalo’s morning brew. Gordie felt a glimmer of pride that his old stuffed-bed trick had actually worked, but the look on his mom’s face quickly erod
ed any such positive emotions.
“Listen, you don’t understand . . .” He began to back away. Artemis watched Ellie approach with interest, but Ellie spared her no attention.
“Oh, no, no, no,” Ellie whispered. “You don’t seem to understand. I would have thought that after the last time you went running off, we would not have this problem again.” She had reached him now and was glaring at him. Then she looked him up and down and back into his eyes before her tone changed entirely. “Are you taller?” she asked, sounding completely bewildered. Gordie grinned despite himself, then he lifted the golden egg up in front of his mom’s eyes.
“I completed another task,” he said, and his smile blazed brighter. Ellie looked from him to the egg in astonishment. She shook it off and fixed him with another stern glare.
“And your shoulder?” she nodded towards his injury. Fortunately, the river had washed away much of the blood so it didn’t appear as gruesome as before.
“Just a scratch.”
She considered him, then raised her finger to his face and said, “I’m still pissed at you.” She turned to Artemis and held out her hand. “Hello, I am Ellie Leonhart.”
Gordie looked between the two of them with awe. He thought they could be the same person, despite his mother being two feet shorter. It was the way she carried herself, with that grace and strength. His pride in his mother swelled.
Artemis grasped Ellie’s hand and shook it. “I am Artemis,” she said, radiating power. “It is an honor to meet you, Ellie Leonhart.”
“And you,” Ellie said with a smile. “Please, come join us.” Ellie spared Gordie one more calculated look before she turned and led the way back to the table. Gordie took a seat at the end by the fire in an attempt to dry his clothes. It was also the seat next to Bridget.
“Hey,” he leaned over and whispered to her with a smile. Artemis sat at the opposite end of the table, and Atalo continued to stare at her.
