Greeks, Gods & Other Problems

Chapter Twenty Six

Being the utter klutz that she was, Artemis hated sneaking out. She hadn't needed to in her previous life, at least, not secretively. Her step-father and mother were pretty cool with everything she did - well, within reason, that is -  so she hadn't developed that skill of deception. Or perhaps they didn't want to be awakened in the dead of night to hear her stumbling down the stairs? They actually trusted me: Artemis realised with a jolt. Well, more than this lot. Getting past the Ares' cabin had been a nightmare: why would you set up snares 2 metres from the front door?

Something from the trees screeched at her and she tripped over backwards. There was an almightly thump as she landed on the ground. Hard. She winced expecting Chiron to come charging through the door of the farmhouse. There was another screech and a bump, Artemis turned hoping to see Jon lying spread-eagled on the floor. No, he was standing upright keeping lookout. By his silhouette Artemis could tell he was silently laughing. Cursing him under her breath, she stood up and hunted for the source of the noise. Up ahead there was a large bird of some sort eating some kind of animal. It screeched again and the entrails slipped out of the dead animal and landed with a thump (and a little bit of a squelch) on the sand. The bird, evidently feeling the loss of half it's meal, screeched once again and hopped to the ground. Studying it, Artemis came to the conclusion that it could be an eagle, but that was a ridiculous notioin. She wasn't too hot on the wildlife that commanded the air, preferring those that swam in the sea. Nothing else stirred as she watched the bird guzzle up the remains of its dinner.

A slight breeze tunneled through the porch of the farmhouse, but that was too far away for Artemis to notice, Jon noted the noise but he was too fixated on the figure of Artemis. He couldn't see the bird and didn't know what she was looking at. Artemis, now in her own little bubble, just watched the bird as it slowly cocked its head to look at her. It's piercing eyes flashed blue for the minutest of moments before returning to their usual colour. Silently it took off leaving her staring at the bloody stain in the sand. Worried she'd just experienced some strange omen from the gods, Artemis shakily spun round to face Jon, his face was one of pure bemusement. What was that: he appeared to mouth; and Artemis shrugged her shoulders in reply before squaring them. She was now going to face the task of sneaking into the farmhouse and retrieving some ambrosia and possibly nectar. Would she make it?

The short reply was no.

They hid in the trees for a second longer then decided to carry on. Their first attempt had been terrible and it was a wonder that they hadn't alerted the entire camp. A flashing, neon sign saying they were going to rob Chiron would have been less conspicuous; but day was fast approaching and with only a couple of hours of night left they would have to act fast.

"Shall I do it?" Jon whispered in Artemis' ear, his breath tickling her neck, She scowled but had to concede, it was her fault they'd failed and made such a cacophany. Jon was a lot quieter than her.

"Fine." She waved a hand dismissively. Jon smiled, his teeth glinting in the moonlight, and began to tread delicately towards the farmhouse. That's odd, surely the moon would be waning by now: Artemis pondered as she watched Jon. His arms were at odd angles balancing himself as he trod on the balls of his feet. Artemis let a grin escape. It was too funny. He was better than her - which wasn't hard, all things considering - but, then again, he wasn't perfect. His silhouette cast funny patterns across the relief of the land - the sand gave it a patterned texture - and the dying flickering flames of the fire meant it emitted an eerie atmosphere. Jon hoped Artemis could not hear how loud his heart was pounding against his chest. The decision to retrieve the ambrosia was on impulse, an impulse he was now fully regretting. Shaking slightly he swallowed his fear and winced as the wooden boardwalk squealed in protest under his feet. Jon cursed under his breath, and tasted the saltiness of the perspiration that was now running down his face. It stinged slightly across raw skin (he hadn't recovered from being nearly burned alive from the volcano) and Jon wished that it would heal the wounds. He paused in the vain hope that it would prevent the wood from squealing further, but, as he carefully placed his entire weight upon it it began to scream. Panicking, he lifted his foot up from it and stood there, wobbling on one foot. He swore they normally didn't creak as loud as that normally!