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Veronica Westcourt didn't like Camp Half-Blood. She didn't like the fact that she hadn't...
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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 14: 𝓥𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓲𝓬𝓪 𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓼 𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓭 𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓯𝓯
They landed at Crissy Field after nightfall.
As soon as Dr. Chase stepped out of his Sopwith Camel, Annabeth ran to him and gave him a huge hug, Percy standing with her. Veronica had not heard what they'd said, instead gazing at Zoë as she tried to feel something.
She'd felt some concern when Zoë received the bite, and again when she'd been smacked away by her father. But both times, her feelings of concern had quickly evaporated. She realized she'd never taken the time to fully appreciate Zoë. Part of her was disappointed in herself. Part of her did not care.
"Annabeth, Percy," Thalia interrupted whatever the two were talking about. Her voice was urgent. She and Artemis were kneeling at Zoë's side, binding the huntress' wounds as Veronica stared, her eyes an endless void of confusion.
Annabeth and Percy ran over to help, as if there was anything they could do. They had no ambrosia or nectar. Veronica thought she'd had some, but it'd fallen out of her overstuffed bag at some point without her noticing. No regular medicine would help. It was dark, but Veronica could see that Zoë didn't look good. She was shivering, and the faint glow that usually hung around her was fading.
"Can't you heal her with magic?" Percy asked Artemis. "I mean... you're a goddess."
"Even the gods can't do everything, Percy," Veronica said slowly. "Even if it seems like they can."
Artemis looked troubled, nodding in agreement. "She is correct. Life is a fragile thing, Percy. If the Fates will the string to be cut, there is little I can do. But I can try."
She tried to set her hand on Zoë's side, but Zoë gripped her wrist. She looked into the goddess' eyes, and some kind of understanding passed between them.
"Have I... served thee well?" Zoë whispered.
"With great honor," Artemis said softly. "The finest of my attendants."
Zoë's face relaxed. "Rest. At last."
"I can try to heal the poison, my brave one."
It hit Veronica in that moment. It wasn't just the poison killing Zoë. The prophecy's final line had been about her. She would perish by her father's hand. And yet she'd taken the quest anyway. She had chosen to save her friends, and Atlas' fury had broken her inside.
Veronica felt almost nothing. She could feel her eyes watering, but she didn't know how to respond.
Zoë saw Thalia, and took her hand. "I am sorry we argued," she said. "We could have been sisters."
"It's my fault," Thalia said, blinking hard. "You were right about Luke, about heroes, men—everything."
"Perhaps not all men," Zoë murmured. She smiled weakly at Percy. "Do you still have the sword, Percy?"
