Maiden Grim | A Pjo Fanfic

Ch. 17: A Friend Says Goodbye

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. "Dad! You flew... you shot... oh my gods! That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"

Her father blushed. "Well, not bad for a middle-aged mortal, I suppose."

"But the celestial bronze bullets! How did you get those?"

"Ah, well. You did leave quite a few half-blood weapons in your room in Virginia, the last time you... left."

Annabeth looked down, embarrassed.

"I decided to try melting some down to make bullet casings," he continued. "Just a little experiment."

No wonder Athena, Goddess of Crafts and Wisdom, had taking a liking to him. A mortal experimenting with enchanted metal just because? That had mad scientist written all over it. She wondered if Hecate saw something similar in Isra's father, whoever he'd been.

Isra stood back up and helped Thalia move Zoë to lay down more comfortably. She bit the inside of her cheek. Isra looked at Artemis, but the goddess kept her watery gaze on her Hunter. Zoë was shivering, and the faint glow that usually hung around her was fading.

"We must bind her injuries," Artemis rasped.

From moonlight, the goddess weaved bandages. Her and Thalia wrapped her wounds up. Isra summoned her wand and readied another healing spell. But her head pounded and Isra faltered.

Artemis placed a hand on her shoulder. "Do not exhaust yourself."

"I have to try," Isra said. "C-Can't you do anything? Please."

The goddess' face softened. Isra knew the truth. She didn't want to accept it. Fat was working against them. And whatever was wrong with Zoë's wound wasn't the only thing wrong. The blow she took from Atlas was killing her too.

"Annabeth, Percy," Thalia called urgently.

They both ran over and kneeled around the huntress' side.

"Can't you heal with magic?' Percy asked.

Isra nodded. "You did the same for me. Can you at least try?"

Artemis had the same troubled look in her eye. Her shoulders were tense, heavy with an unseen burden like she was still carrying the sky on her back. "This is different. Life is a fragile thing. 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."

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," Zoë murmured. She smiled weakly at Percy. "Do you still have the sword, Percy?"

Percy brought out Riptide and put the pen in her hand. She grasped it contentedly. "You spoke the truth, Percy Jackson. You are nothing like...like Heracles. I am honored that you carry this sword."