¹Pocket Full of Posies.

𝐈𝐕. the offer of immortality

pocket full of posies
❛ iv. the offer of immortality ❜

━━━━━ YOU WOULD THINK Posie would've been able to figure it out—the one Hunter that could turn a whole helicopter into a flock of ravens. Of course that would be Artemis. But Posie had done anything but figured it out. She stared, blinking stupidly as her hands fell by her side. This twelve-year-old girl was her aunt? This twelve-year-old girl was Apollo's twin?

To make matters worse, Percy had reverted back to his ... Well, Posie found it hard to explain. He wasn't dumb, not in the slightest, but the comments had made people often think of him that way. If anything, those comments came from a place of social ineptness, a place of social obliviousness. He started at Artemis and muttered; "Um ... o-kay."

That wasn't even the worst reaction; His reaction was nothing compared to Grover's. He gasped, then knelt hastily in the snow and started yammering, "Thank you, Lady Artemis! You're so ... you're so ... Wow!"

It was like when fans—obsessed, super-fans—meet their idols. Those fans lose all sense of control and awareness, becoming stammering messes. That's what Grover was doing—groveling in the snow as he yammered how much he loves the Goddess of the Moon. Posie didn't know if she should be shocked or embarrassed by him, but Thalia chose to be angry. "Get up, goat boy!" the daughter of Zeus snapped, pulling him by the arm. "We have other things to worry about—Annabeth is gone!"

"Whoa," Bianca di Angelo spoke up, her voice wavering. "Hold up. Time out." She pointed a finger at everyone in turn as they all watched in baited silence. This could go really bad, or ... really bad. "Who ... who are you people?"

Artemis's expression softened. "It might be a better question, my dear girl, to ask who are you? Who are your parents?"

Bianca glanced nervously at her brother, who was still staring in awe at Artemis. She licked her lips and took a breath before speaking; "Our parents are dead. We're orphans. There's a bank trust that pays for our school, but ..."

She faltered, looking around at all the unconvinced faces looking back. No one believed her—there was no way they were just orphans with trust funds. It was never that simple. "What?" she demanded, frowning. "I'm telling the truth!"

"You are a half-blood," Zoë Nightshade answered, her face softening as she looked away from glaring at Thalia. Her accent was hard to place—it was old-fashioned like she was reading from one of Shakespeare's plays. "One of thy parents was mortal. The other was an Olympian."

"An Olympian ... athlete?"

"No." Zoë shook her head. "One of the gods. The Olympian gods."

"Cool!" Nico immediately gasped, shuffling through some holographic cards.

"No!" Bianca's voice quavered. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she started to breathe faster. "This is not cool!"

Her younger brother danced around like he needed to use the restroom. He fired off questions; "Does Zeus really have lightning bolts that do six hundred damage? Does he get extra movement points for—"

"Nico, shut up!" Bianca put her hands to her face, clearly overwhelmed. "This is not your stupid Mythomagic game, okay? There are no gods!"

Posie's burned palm pulsed like a dying heartbeat, and all she wanted to do was sit down and cry—but she felt pity for the di Angelos. She didn't have the typical "coming of demigod" monster attack ( honestly, her "coming of demigod" was having horrible nightmares ), but she knew the fear that came with being a demigod. You're always scared, you're always looking over your shoulder, and you never know when the next monster will attack. They call you a hero, but you feel like anything but.