Greeks, Gods & Other Problems

Chapter Twenty Four

It took a while for their pace of breath to calm and slow until it was regular again. Especially Jon's. Artemis was more prepared, and therefore resilient, when it came to objects of pure fear and terror. Particuarly when they were haunting her. There was no doubt about it, they had to get to the Poseidon cabin. They wouldn't have made it before the creepy guy in the cloak, but that guy wasn't after Percy, Annabeth, Jon, or even Artemis! He was a constant reminder to Artemis about her past. Never sure of who it was under the cloak, she always knew who's lot they fell into: the one that had taken her mother.

Lost in her own thoughts, Artemis hadn't noticed that Jon had begun to consider the spot where it had stood. Looking very much like a dog, he circled it, bent down to sniff it, and crumbled the dirt between his fingers thoughtfully.

"Come on Sherlock," Artemis dragged him away and together they stumbled to Cabin Three. Dinner wasn't over yet, however all they could see of the fire were long, wistful shadows that were cast upon the trees, and a flicker or two of light. The fire had diminished, and Artemis knew in her heart that it was all her fault. Jon glanced over and muttered something in greek, he knew something was up, maybe it was the animalistic tendencies he'd seemed to pick up recently.

"We don't have time, Arty." She let him pull her away.

As they neared the cabin the sense of urgency grew and was soon accompanied with a side dish of tension. It was at this moment that Jon's stomach took the opportunity to grumble. Sorry: he mouthed at Artemis and recieved a sharp nod in return. She could tell that something was wrong. Very wrong.

The moon was, by now, high in the sky - they'd had dinner late - and the stars sparkled on the lake's rippling surface. The camp's continuous fire was also reflected - barely - on this silver carpet. Time stood still. Artemis' 'spidey-sense' was tingling. Dreamlike she grasped the door's handle and as she pushed it open she was met with little resistance - good sign? Or bad sign?

She was greeted with a hastily tidied cabin with clothes strewn across the wooden floorboards.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

Nothing of importance.

Her only family she had left? Gone. Footsteps in the sand washed away by the tide; leaves on the trees before winter casts her icy glare; the credibility of the educational system in England dismissed by the education minister; new Harry Potter books... all gone.

A tear slid down one cheek as she surveyed the contents of the cabin she shared. Why was this affecting her so much? She didn't notice that Jon had backed away to give her space and was now scouting the area outside, he was careful not to be seen by the first straggling diners that were making their way home. Nobody would go to this end of the camp - no-one but Percy and Artemis lived here (and sometimes Thalia when she visited but she normally bunked with the rest of her girls in Artemis' cabin.) and nobody would realise he was gone for a while yet. It was then that Jon realised that things were going to change at Camp Half-Blood, and maybe not for the better...

As Jon's epiphany arrived, Artemis was wandering over to the splintered canoe and recalled the earlier argument about its condition. A sad smile played across her lips before she slapped herself. Hard. But quietly so Jon wouldn't notice. What was she doing? Acting as if he was already dead? Shaking her head in distaste of her own thoughts, her eye alighted on something peculiar concerning the bookcase: where was the dust?

Silently, she attempted to trek her way over, but clumsily tripped on Percy's Minotaur Horn. She steadied herself with a bedpost which promptly clattered to the floor. Despite the innocent nature of this cacophany it still brought Jon out of the revere he had for his epiphany, and caused him to hurtle back into the room. In answer to the bemused expression on his face, Artemis threw the post at him. He caught it in one hand and retaliated with a smirk before chucking it to one side.

"Shup you," she muttered as he weaved over to her.

"Shup?" He asked, helping her up.

"It means 'shut up'." She explained, brushing the wood dust off of herself.

"You British are weird."

"Just remember that we have the greatest navy in the world etc etc. etc."

"Had."

"Have."

"You know, something I've noticed about you, you are a bit patriotic, aren't you?"

"Course I am. I'm a British teenager in America surrounded by freaks of human nature where I am the biggest freak of them all. Gotta keep my identity somehow before you globalise me," she joked.

He shrugged, "makes sense." She flicked her hair from her eyes and - more carefully - found the path to the bookcase: she made one. Jon deemed it dark enough to turn the light on and quickly switched it. The cabin flooded with electric light and Artemis saw her, what she'd thought was a carefully constructed path, was a misshapen crawl space.

"Thanks," she grumbled just low enough so that Jon wouldn't hear. She reached out and grasped the book that had been touched.

"The Lives and Lies of Hades." The spine screamed out at then. Its crisp, white pages had been disturbed only once and there was a clear seperation where a corner had been folded over slightly when it was opened. Artemis turned to the page and something fell out onto the floor. Handing the book to Jon, she bent down and snatched it up from the floor. It was the picture from Zeus' cabin, the one that Annabeth had taken.

"What does it mean?" Jon asked in hushed tones.

"I don't know." Was the reply.

~~~

Hey! It's the summer holidays! Whoo! :)

The sun is shining, the tank is clean, and we are getting out of - the tank is clean. The tank is clean! Virtual double choc cookies to whoever gets the reference ;)

Actually, for once (!) it is sunny in England *shocked face* and, because it's the holidays I will be updating more often. See ya guys and have fun whatever you're doing, it's sure to be totally awesome. :) x