𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 ༄ ᴘercy ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ

mysteries and minds unravelled

We landed at Crissy Field after nightfall.

I crouched near Zoë, resting her head in my lap, not leaving her side once. Artemis and Thalia sat too, and tried to bind her wounds. They tried to heal her. It wouldn't work.

"Annabeth, Percy," Thalia called. Her voice was urgent.

There was nothing we could do. We had no ambrosia or nectar. No regular medicine would help. It was dark, but I 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?" I questioned Artemis, the desperation revealing itself in my voice. "Please, we - we can't just let her die."

Artemis looked troubled. "Life is a fragile thing, Nailea. 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's eyes, and some kind of understanding passed between them.

"Have I... served thee well?" Zoë whispered.

"With great honour," 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."

I knew it wasn't just the poison that was killing her. It was her father's final blow. Zoë had known all along that the Oracle's prophecy was about her: she would die by a parent's hand. And yet she'd taken the quest anyway. She was a hero. And her time here was over. But I didn't want to let her go. I couldn't.

Zoë looked up at me. "Thank you for caring. You tried your best to look after me, even though you didn't have to. Thank you."

My eyes began to water, but I couldn't reply, knowing I'd fall apart if I did.

She saw Thalia, and took her hand.

"I am sorry we argued," Zoë 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," Zoe murmured. She smiled weakly at Percy. "Do you still have the sword, Percy?"

He put the pen in her hand. She grasped it curiously, like it was so much more than just a pen. "You spoke the truth, Percy Jackson. You are nothing like... like Hercules. I am honoured that you carry this sword."

Her body trembled violently for a moment, her eyes scrunched in pain.

"Zoë-" I said.

"Stars," she whispered. "I can see the stars again, my lady."

A tear trickled down Artemis's cheek. "Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight."

"Stars," Zoë repeated. Her eyes fixed on the night sky. Even when her chest stopped rising and falling, and her hand fell limp, and her lips parted, she still stared up at the stars. Her eyes were glassy, and the constellations reflected in them.

I froze, staring down at her still body.

Thalia lowered her head. Annabeth gulped down a sob, and her father put his hands on her shoulders. Percy stood still.

I watched as Artemis cupped her hand above Zoë's mouth and spoke a few words in Ancient Greek. A silvery wisp of smoke exhaled from Zoë's lips and was caught in the hand of the goddess. Zoë's body shimmered and disappeared.

I took a deep breath.

Artemis stood, said a kind of blessing, breathed into her cupped hand and released the silver dust to the sky. It flew up, sparkling, and vanished.