The Moon's Shine (PJO)

Chapter 5

It wasn't long before Percy saw Lady Artemis again. In fact, only forty-eight hours had passed since their last encounter.

These visits are a lot more frequent than my Dad's, Percy thought as he spotted a lithe figure sitting on the beach, watching the sunset.

He'd been going to this spot everyday. It was his type of grieving. Or trying not to grieve.

The beach was arguable one of the most beautiful spots in camp. It looked like the sort of beach you'd see in a postcard: flawless sand, glorious blue waves, the perfect amount of sun, and a picture-perfect scene you'll never be able to visit in the real world.

But in the mythological world, a perfect beach was the least the gods could do in return for having kids the ages of ten to thirty risk their lives. 

So Percy tried to use it as much as possible. It was kind of his silent way of irritating the gods.

Besides, it was the closest spot in camp to the water.

Every time he came here, he would just dive into the lake and meditate on the bottom of the seabed. It was the only time he felt like he . . . belonged somewhere.

And it helped with his grief.

However, Percy wasn't sure what to do. Lady Artemis seemed like she wasn't going to move anytime soon, and, unlike the visits from his father, he didn't look forward to meeting with Lady Artemis.

Many males would kill to be in this position, he reminded himself. Especially when Lady Artemis was in her adult form.

But that wasn't why Percy took a step forward out of the trees and onto the grainy, warm sand. He was sure Lady Artemis was here because she wanted to meet with him. In addition, avoiding her would make her furious—and he didn't like being faced with the goddess' fury.

Only, when Percy took his second step towards her, Artemis tensed. She became a blur of motion. Her bow appeared in her hands, a silver arrow—which was a beam of moonlight—notched already, and then spun around and fired.

The arrow flew right at Percy's head. His eyes widened and he dropped onto the ground. The arrow whistled over his head—but instead of thunking into a tree, it burned a hole in it and went through without losing speed. And then it went through another tree. And another. Percy soon lost track of it—and he looked back at Artemis, worried he was about to get slaughtered by another godly arrow.

But she had relaxed. The moment she'd released the arrow, the goddess had recognized the approaching person as Perseus. Instead of stopping the arrow, though, she merely snapped her fingers, allowing her bow to disappear, and watched with interest at what Percy would do.

"Er . . . is that arrow going to stop?" Percy asked warily when he realized he wasn't in any danger.

Artemis shrugged, and turned back to gaze at the sunset. "If it hits someone."

Percy's eyes widened. "Forgive me for asking, but could you stop it?"

"Why?"

Percy fought the urge to say, Why else? Instead, he opted to be peaceful. "Because . . . er . . . someone's going to get heavily injured for no reason."

There was a pause. Then, Artemis said in a quizzical tone, "Then they deserve it. Why do you care that much?"

"Because—" Percy started.

"Forget it," Artemis said dismissively. "I'm not here to discuss that."

Percy felt fury course through his veins. Lady Artemis asked him a question, and didn't want to know the answer? Who the heck did she think she was?

But just as Percy was going explode, he remembered. She was the goddess of the hunt, the goddess who hated all males. Of course he would get disrespected—and even if it wasn't fair, he was powerless in this situation.

So he asked, "Why are you here, Lady Artemis?"

"For the day before yesterday." Artemis gritted her teeth together, as though she was fighting her inner self. "I . . . wanted to . . . t-thank you. For . . ." She closed her eyes, and scrunched up her brow, appearing as though the words were now paining her. "For . . . helping me."

Percy was pleasantly surprised; a thank you was the last thing he expected to come out of her mouth. So, like any normal person, he accepted it. "Don't worry about it."

But unlike any normal person, Artemis didn't know how to accept that.

"Are you trying to do this on purpose?" Lady Artemis jumped to her feet and strode towards the demigod, who didn't know what to do. "Trying to get to my good side?"

"What? No—" Percy started, but it was too late.

Artemis had reached him. She pounced on him, and Percy found himself pressed onto the sand, pinned by the goddess of the moon. 

Her scent overwhelmed him, and a blush overtook his face as he froze.

Only, he unfroze when Lady Artemis pulled out a sharp silver dagger from her boot. "I'm done with your attitude, you disrespectful demigod. It's time to die." 

"Please," Percy pleaded. "Let me explain myself."

The goddess didn't listen. Instead, she raised her weapon.

Percy had one last trick up his sleeve. "I swear to the Styx I didn't do anything you thought I did," He closed his eyes, fearing death.

However, as the seconds ticked by, Percy forced himself to open his eyes.

The goddess still had her dagger in the air. However, as Percy opened his eyes, she brought it down so it was resting on his neck. "You have a minute to explain yourself," she told him.

What is there to explain? Percy thought sarcastically.

As if she could read his mind, Lady Artemis increased the pressure on his neck. A few droplets of blood stained the weapon.

"Er . . . I don't like people thanking me!" Percy said hurriedly.

"You lie worse than my brother," Artemis snarled, pressing harder.

"My fatal flaw is loyalty," he said desperately, but, mindful of the blade at his neck, he said it in a whisper. "If people give me credit, it seems like they only keep me around because they owe me something, not because they like me for who I am." He looked at the goddess with pleading eyes. "Please let me go."

Lady Artemis mulled over his words for a while. 

Finally, she moved off of him in a fluid move and sat down on the sand.

Percy sat up, rubbing his sore throat. He tried to ignore that his body suddenly felt cold without the goddess touching him.

"I . . . apologize for my actions," Artemis said stiffly.

"Again, don't worry about it—" Percy waved it off, but shut up when Artemis glared at him.

"As reperation, I'll take you somewhere," Artemis offered. "What do mortals like to do?"

"It's not necessary—" Percy said weakly.

"What do mortals like to do?" Artemis repeated, more firmly. She wasn't going to listen to him.

Just then, Percy's stomach grumbled. 

He smiled sheepishly. "How about eating food?"