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When Percy finally managed to even his breathing and fall asleep, a peaceful rest is not what he got. Instead, he found himself standing next to Hestia’s throne in Olympus. He could hear chattering all around the room before Zeus’s angry bellow broke through the cacophony.
“He’s been freed!” the king of the gods seethed. “How is it that twelve Olympians couldn’t find one measly statue?”
Percy noticed Artemis’s eyes flash when Zeus called the statue measly.
“Well, father,” Dionysus drawled, looking down at a magazine, “perhaps because said twelve Olympians were not actually allowed to leave Olympus. Food for thought.” Hermes snickered beside him.
Zeus opened his mouth, likely to scold his son, but Poseidon beat him to it. “He’s got a point, brother,” the sea god said, “you cannot fault us for not finding your wayward statue if you also did not grant us permission to even search.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Zeus hissed.
Poseidon quirked an eyebrow but remained silent.
“I bet you even foresaw this and said nothing, you traitor. Looking to overthrow me again, aren’t you?”
“Honestly,” Poseidon muttered, “try to overthrow a guy once and he never lets it go.” Zeus roared and threw a lightning bolt at Poseidon. The sea god stood, righteous in an instant, trident gripped tightly in his hand, deflecting the attack.
“Hey, watch it!” yelled Hermes in alarm, just barely missing the bolt.
The ground beneath Zeus’s throne shook and a wave appeared out of nowhere, crashing into Zeus. It sizzled around the sky god as he screamed and threw more bolts towards Percy’s father. Percy doesn’t know when Poseidon shed the Hawaiian shirt for something else, but suddenly, the entity before him really did look like the fearsome god that the legends always painted him out to be.
“Of course you freed him!” Zeus continued to rage, “I should’ve gotten rid of you, too, that day!”
“Careful with your words, brother,” Poseidon said, coldly. His green eyes glinted dangerously. “I am not the one who freed your son. I cared for the boy, and I despise what you did to him, but you made sure none of us could ever find the statue let alone free the god within. You’re the one who hid him from us, his loss is on your hands.” Poseidon’s posture was more relaxed, but no one in the room believed for one second that he wasn’t on guard for another attack.
Zeus finally paused. “Yes,” he said, smoothing out his suit, “yes, I can sense that you are telling the truth.”
Poseidon snorted, knowing that was the closest thing to an apology he would get from his brother. He reined in his temper, but Percy noted that Zeus was still searching for someone to redirect his ire towards. He didn’t have to look far. His electric eyes whirled around and settled on Artemis.
“You.”
“Yes?” She asked.
“Who else would it be if not you?” he snorted derisively. He looked dangerous and unhinged, not a good sight for a being as powerful as Zeus.
“I wish it had been me,” Artemis spat. “I wish I had been able to free him, but since it wasn’t, I hope to one day extend to my gratitude to whoever it was that did, father. We both know that none of us in this room could’ve liberated him, you made it so that only a mortal with your favor could utter his name and release him. And you favor only yourself.”
“Careful little huntress,” Zeus warned, “your words echo treason.”
Instead of looking scared, Artemis laughed, cold and harsh. “Will you condemn me to the same crimes you condemned my brother, then? Are you above reprimand or critique? I have no desire to fight for the throne, my lord, and neither did my twin, and yet you are too incapable of looking past your paranoia towards reason.”
“Silence!”
Artemis smirked. “You are upset because you sensed that I did not lie.”
“I am upset,” Zeus sneered, “at your blatant disrespect.”
“You erased my brother’s name from the minds of mortals. You punished him to a fate worse than fading. You distributed his domains as if they were presents and took one for yourself. You have no right to be upset.”
Lightning crackled around the throne room. Percy saw Hermes tense up, as if ready to dodge another bolt. Ares and Athena sat and both sides of their father, the two war gods leaning forward in their seats, wondering if they’ll be called. Next to him, Percy could see Hestia tend to her flame, a nervous look on her face as she bit her lip.
“I will not be spoken to this way, Artemis.” He said, low and dangerous. “This is your last warning. One more word from you and I will dangle you before chaos. You want a fate worse than fading? You can have it.” Percy noticed Hera flinch. Artemis clenched her jaw but did not say anything. Zeus smiled.
“Hermes!” the king of the gods called.
Hermes jumped into attention. “My lord,” he said.
“I need you to deliver a message,” Zeus stated, “tell everyone, god, nymph, naiad, what have you, that they are to search for the missing statue. First one to find it can have a domain of his,” he smirked, eyes going to Artemis, watching her seethe.
“One decree, coming right up,” Hermes saluted. He was about to head out the door when Zeus lifted his hand. Hermes stopped, mid step.
“Eager to leave, are we?”
“No, my lord.” He stuttered.
“Liar.” Zeus hissed. He took a deep breath, “in addition to this decree, I would also like you to issue the same search onto the demigods but make it a quest. They do so love to go on their little adventures.”
Loud protests echoed throughout the chambers. Previously silent Olympians were standing up in protest.
“Now, Zeus, be reasonable! My children have no business-” Aphrodite said.
“Leave my children out of this, father!” Hephaestus bellowed.
“Some of us only have one child!” Dionysus added
“No need to be hasty, brother!” Demeter tried.
“If I may, father,” Athena’s voice cut through. Zeus lifted his head, giving her permission. “Is it wise getting so many people involved? If anyone finds out what exactly it is that has been lost, then they may seek to use that against us.”
Zeus rubbed his chin pensively. “Yes,” he agreed, “you have a point, daughter. Hermes, do not extend this quest to all demigods, just the ones that have successfully completed quests before.”
“Now wait a minute!” Poseidon said, standing up.
Hestia turned to Percy. “Wake up, little demigod. You’re about to receive a visitor.”
**
When Percy opened his eyes, he was back at the cabin, Apollo was leaning over him and shaking his shoulders. “Someone’s coming,” the young god hissed. Percy bolted up. Right, his dream.
“Shit,” he hissed. Then he looked at Apollo, “go hide somewhere! I’ll try to keep them in the living room.” Apollo nodded and ran to the closet, while Percy made a beeline for the living room, quickly laying down on the sofa. Barely a second passed before the messenger god was standing a few feet in front of him.
“Percy!” Hermes greeted. He was rocking on the balls of his feet, clearly the confrontation from earlier still had him shaken. “How are you doing, kiddo?”
“Hi, Hermes,” Percy said, sitting up from the sofa. He pretended to yawn and stretch. “What brings you here?”
Hermes placed a hand on his heart. “What?” he gasped, “can’t a god visit his favorite mortal cousin?” Percy gave Hermes a deadpanned look.
“Okay, sure, let’s pretend that this is what’s happening,” Percy finally said. He got up and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make some coffee, want any?” Hermes shook his head but smiled.
“Actually, Percy, I am here for something serious,” Hermes said, a little sheepish.
Percy whirled around, finger wagging. “Aha! Knew it! You never visit for social reasons.”
Hermes put his hands up in defense, “I’ll make an effort in the future,” he promised, “but for now I come bearing a message from dad. He’s giving you a quest.” Percy groaned. Even though he knew this was going to happen, a part of him wished the dream was wrong. “I know, sorry kiddo,” Hermes winced, sympathetically. “You’re to find a missing statue,” he continued, “it’s very important that you do so as soon as possible. You have until the summer solstice.”
Percy gave Hermes a wry grin. “He loves giving me that deadline, doesn’t he?”
Hermes gave him an impish grin. “But hey,” the god said, “at least he doesn’t think you’re the thief this time!”
“Lucky me.”
Hermes snickered, then looked at his watch. “Best be off then,” he said.
“Wait!” Percy called out. Hermes turned, giving him an inquisitive look.
“Does this mean that Olympus is open again?”
“Partially, why?”
“Every quest needs a prophecy, and I haven’t seen dad in a while,” Percy shrugged, “Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?”
There was a clang from the bedroom, and both Percy and Hermes turned their heads in the direction the sound came from. Percy froze.
“What was that?” Hermes asked.
“What was what?” Percy said quickly.
“The sound that we both very clearly just heard,” Hermes said.
“I didn’t hear a sound.”
Hermes turned a flat look at Percy. “Lie better, kid,” the messenger intoned, before walking towards the bedroom door. Percy scrambled off the couch and ran to intercept Hermes.
“You’re right, you got me,” Percy lamented, “I brought a date over last night. Please don’t walk in, you’ll embarrass her.”
“Why were you on the sofa, then?”
“I’m a gentleman?”
Hermes snorted. And yeah, okay, Percy knew he was lying about everything else, but Sally Jackson raised a gentleman, excuse him very much. Percy leveled Hermes a glare.
“Alright, alright, sorry,” Hermes said, raising his hands, “you are a very nice boy,” Hermes conceded. “But a terrible liar,” he tacked on. “What’s behind the door, Percy?”
“Nothing!”
“I’m going to ask one more time, out of courtesy, but after that, I’m just going to zap in there,” Hermes warned. “What’s behind the door?”
“Seriously, it’s just a guy I brought back last night!”
“A guy? I thought you said it was a girl? Since when are you into guys?”
“Since when is that your business?” Percy snarked. He could feel his heart rate rocket at being caught in a lie.
“Right,” Hermes said, leveling him with a no-nonsense look. Moments like this helped remind Percy that the trickster messenger had experience being a father. “Want to try that again?”
Percy mumbled something under his breath.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
“Luke was hot okay, leave me alone,” Percy muttered.
A mixture of pain and pride flashed through Hermes’s face, until he settled on a sly grin. “He took after me in looks, you know?”
“Gross! Dude, no, get out of here before my date wakes up,” Percy started ushering Hermes out the front door. “Out! Don’t you have people to see, messages to deliver? The whole shebang.”
Hermes gave a rich laugh, eyes twinkling. He opened his mouth to respond when suddenly he stopped. His whole body stilled, and his eyes went back to the door.
“You didn’t.”
“Hermes?”
“Tell me you didn’t Percy,” the young Olympian begged.
“Didn’t what?”
“Who exactly is behind that door, Perseus? I can sense another god; one I haven’t sensed in a very long time.”
Knowing there was no way out of this one, Percy’s shoulders dropped, and he gave a deep exhale. “Hey Apollo,” Percy called out, ignoring the sharp intake of breath that came from Hermes, “you can come out now. There’s no point anymore.”
The bedroom door opened, and Apollo hesitantly stepped out. Beside Percy, Hermes had stiffened and his eyes went wide. His pupils followed each of Apollo’s movements and he looked like a man thirsting in a desert, just drinking in the sight of Apollo. His bottom lip wobbled a bit as he took a small step forward.
“Polly?”
“Hello little brother,” Apollo waved.
That was all it took before the fastest of the Olympians ran towards his brother. He wrapped his arms around Apollo and sobbed. Apollo looked at Percy over Hermes’s shoulder, stunned. He slowly wrapped his arms around his younger brother and returned the hug, sinking more into the embrace. The two eventually forgot the hero in the room and all that Percy could hear were hiccupped apologies from Hermes and shushed reassurances from Apollo.
When they pulled apart, Hermes looked different. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, Percy mused, but something about having his older brother back must’ve taken a huge weight off the other god’s shoulder.
“So,” Percy interrupted, “what now?”
“Huh?” Hermes jolted. Apollo too turned an inquisitive gaze towards Percy. The demigod gave a helpless shrug.
“I just mean,” he said, “the quest was to find his statue,” Percy jabbed a thumb in Apollo’s direction. “I found it. What now?” Percy asked, with a calm he did not feel.
Hermes looked floored. He turned his gaze up at Apollo again before looking up at the ceiling. A thousand different thoughts whirring through his head. Percy could see Apollo begin to worry the longer Hermes’s silence continued. Finally, he spoke.
“I can’t help you,” he said slowly, “but I won’t turn you in.”
Percy opened his mouth to protest, but Hermes lifted his hand. He looked directly at Apollo when he said this. “I love you,” he said seriously. “I love you and I have missed you. But, Polly,” his face twisted ruefully, “I don’t have the domains you do- did, sorry. If dad finds out I helped you he will kill me, there’s not a doubt in my mind about that, and there won’t be anything tethering me here like there is with you.”
“Will he dangle you over chaos like he threatened Artemis with?” Percy asked, curious.
Apollo choked beside him. “He threatened her with what?” His eyes flashed gold, and the room began to get uncomfortably warm. Hermes shot him a look as if to say ‘way to go’ before he went over to calm the blond.
“Saw that then, did you?” Hermes asked, when the room was back to a normal temperature. Sweat lined Percy’s brow, but Apollo still looked like he was ready to unleash another bout of heat at any moment’s notice, so Percy stayed quiet about that. Instead, he shrugged.
“Demigod dream,” he said, in lieu of a full explanation, but Hermes nodded in understanding.
“Then you saw just how serious my father is? How dangerous he is right now?”
“He shouldn’t rule if he’s that unhinged,” Percy argued. Outside thunder sounded, and the inhabitants of the cabin quieted, looking at each other warily.
“Best not air those thoughts out loud, little cousin.”
Apollo had been watching the conversation without saying much, but at the topic of treason and blasphemy he gave a humorless laugh. “The demigod has a point, though, little brother,” Apollo said. “Father hasn’t been sane in a very long time, longer for you than for me now, all things considering.” He shrugged, “maybe a little overthrowing is in order?”
Hermes turned to look at Apollo, incredulous. “Are you insane?” he hissed, “this is the very thing that got you turned into a statue in the first place!”
“I didn’t even do anything! I hadn’t been planning or scheming when he did what he did! I was innocent,” Apollo snapped, righteous with anger. “If he’s going to turn me into a statue and strip me of my domains for two thousand years then you know what?” Apollo said, a dark chuckle, “I might as well do what I was punished for. Why let a perfectly good punishment go to waste?”
“Di immortales,” Hermes muttered under his breath. “You’re both insane.”
“You really won’t help us?” Apollo asked.
Hermes shook his head, looking at the floor. Apollo sighed.
“Can you at least reach out to Artemis?” Percy asked, drawing their attention back to him. “Based on what I saw, I think she’d be willing to help.”
Hermes considered. “Yeah, I can do that,” he said, “but it might be tricky. Dad’s keeping a close eye on her and Uncle P after last night, so he probably won’t let her leave Olympus without good reason.”
“Tell her the young hero called her attractive,” Apollo suggested. Behind him Percy squawked.
“The hero,” Percy started, “would very much like to not be turned into a jackalope, thanks!” he said, jabbing a finger into Apollo’s arm. Then he turned to Hermes, “do not tell her that, Hermes, please don’t tell her that,” he pleaded. He could see Hermes and Apollo exchanging grins over his head and already bemoaned his fate.
“You two are way too comfortable with letting me become a jackalope,” he grumbled.
“It’s the best way to get her here,” Hermes sing-songed.
“You’d be a very cute jackalope,” Apollo added, flashing him a smile.
And oh. This is the first time Percy had ever seen him smile and it was positively blinding. This smile was dangerous, Percy decided. This smile could convince kings and emperors, build or crumble societies, and no wonder Zeus felt insecure in the face of it. This smile would lead Percy to fight in another war, he was sure of it. And yet, he couldn’t find himself too bothered by that revelation. He missed the considering look Hermes gave them, and only looked away when the messenger coughed. He flushed, warmth running up his neck and settling on his cheeks and ears. He noticed Apollo’s smile widening.
“Right,” Hermes said, “I’ll get Artemis, but I need to finish delivering these messages.” He then gave a pointed look to Apollo, “don’t break him, brother,” he warned, and then he was gone.
**
Apollo and Percy stood there, silent, neither really knowing what to do with the other. Percy was about to say something when Apollo beat him to it.
“My brother holds you in high regard,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but very nearly one. Percy nodded.
“I suppose so,” he replied. Apollo hummed.
“I never got your name, you know?” he commented lightly, looking out the window. It was dark outside, and the god frowned. “I heard Hermes call you something earlier but I’m not sure what it was.”
“Percy. My name is Percy.”
“Percy,” Apollo repeated, testing it out. His name looked good on the god’s lips. Percy gave an involuntary shiver at the thought. “Not very Greek, is it?” Apollo noted.
“Well, Percy is more like a nickname. Technically, my name is Perseus.”
Apollo’s eyes lit up. “Ah,” he grinned, “destroyer.” At Percy’s grimace the god laughed, a nice twinkling sound, almost like wind chimes. “Apollo means destroyer, too,” he explained, “but Phoebus means bright and light. I always liked that duality. Give and take. It’s nice not to work in complete absolutes.”
“So, you destroy stuff?”
“It’s not literal, Perseus,” Apollo said, ignoring Percy’s correction of his name. “I’m the god of healing, but also the god of plagues. Just as easily as I can take a life, I can also save one. I’m the god of archery but also the god of knowledge. Just as easily as I can fight a war, I can also be at home in a classroom. No one expects any one thing from me and that is liberating,” he closed his eyes and inhaled. “I hate this disconnect,” he murmured. Percy hummed sympathetically. “I can’t even feel the sun.”
“Can you normally feel the sun?”
“All the time,” Apollo replied wistfully. He pouted at the dark sky outside. “This overcast is making it even harder to see her,” he grumbled. “Is New York normally this gloomy?”
“Gloomy?”
“Grey, overcast, generally unpleasant,” Apollo listed.
Percy looked confused. “It isn’t gloomy outside, dude,” Percy said slowly, “that’s pretty normal actually.”
“That, out there,” Apollo said, waving his arms at the window, “that is the picture definition of gloomy. No sun, no blue skies, nothing. It’s depressing.”
“Apollo,” Percy started, cautious, “there’s usually never a sun in the sky.”
Apollo stilled.
“We only get sunlight for one week a year,” he continued, “Artemis apparently tried to pull the sun for a while but couldn’t do both the moon and sun, so she had to stop. Now, she only does it for one week every summer.”
“No sun?”
Percy shook his head. He could see the grief waging war on Apollo’s face, before settling on resigned acceptance. The god’s shoulders slumped.
“The sun is life,” he whispered, “how could father take that away?”
“Tell me,” Percy said. “Tell me about how the world used to be.”
“It used to be so bright,” Apollo said. Nostalgic for a world that no longer existed. “You could lay down on the grass and it was warm, and there were flowers growing all around, surrounded by bees and butterflies. There were so many colors, Perseus. So many. And now everything is just so gray.
“I used to sit around with scholars on nice days and we’d discuss anything. Poetry, plays, philosophical thoughts? Nothing was off limits. We’d stay there for hours, and you could just see their yearning to grow and learn. The potential humans had was so tremendous,” he sighed, wistful.
Percy was captivated. Maybe it was Apollo, but Percy could almost feel the warmth behind his closed eyes as he tried to picture this world. The one week with sun was always a cherished time during the year, but Percy longed for the days Apollo was recalling. Endless light with streams of color? Grover always thought that Pan took the vibrancy of nature with him when he disappeared, but Percy wondered if maybe nature vanished as a result of Apollo’s reluctant departure. Percy sat there, completely entranced by the picture Apollo was creating in the cabin. Stories of heroes Percy hadn’t heard of, lost in time and forgotten by history. He sat forward when Apollo gave his recount of the battle of Troy, gasping at all the appropriate parts.
“I’m not proud of that,” Apollo recounted, a frown on his face, “but I led to Patroclus’s death and then killed Achilles. They were brave fools and that was war, but their love was so bright, and I remember asking Uncle what happened with them later on. They’re both in Elysium, so I find solace in that.”
He gesticulated wildly when talking about the chariot races that used to occur. Wild Greeks with crazy grins praising the gods with acts of passion and valor. It truly was a different world, and Apollo was a natural born storyteller. By the time dusk rolled around, Percy had his head on Apollo’s lap, lost in the tales. Fingers played with his hair and when Percy blinked up, he saw Apollo softly smiling, blue eyes gentle and relaxed. “Thank you,” he murmured, “I needed that.”
Percy grinned back sleepily. “Anytime,” he said. “I enjoyed it.”
“As did I.”
“When we get your powers back, I want to have a picnic,” Percy said.
“Oh?” Apollo asked, smiling indulgently.
Percy hummed and nodded. “It sounds nice,” he stated, “sitting outside, sun on your skin like a warm hug. A lazy afternoon with sandwiches and lemonade? Perfect.”
“We can do that,” Apollo agreed.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Percy closed his eyes again and grinned. He could feel the rise and fall of Apollo’s chest and began to succumb to the soothing sensation. Apollo began to sing under his breath, a song Percy didn’t know, old in its inflections but full of promise.
**
“PERCY JACKSON!”
They both jolted up.
An irate goddess of the hunt stood before them, arrow notched and aimed at the demigod. Her eyes completely skipping over her brother.
“Percy Jackson, the only thing saving you right now is my lieutenant’s fondness for you and the fact that is was Hermes who spoke that missive. So, tell me, boy, are his words true?”
“Lady Artemis!” Percy exclaimed, panicked. “No! No, of course not! We just needed a way to get you here without-”
“You were drawing me out?!” She began to notch her arrow more, glaring at the 17-year-old.
“Honestly, Arty,” Apollo drawled, “maybe wait to hear the whole story before jumping to conclusions,” he suggested.
Artemis’s eyes finally flickered to the other being in the room. Her whole body seized, and she accidentally released the arrow, missing Percy’s head by an inch.
“Impossible,” she whimpered.
“Baby sister,” he greeted.
“I’m older than you,” she said, a sob lodged in her throat. She hadn’t moved from her spot, looking very much like she couldn’t decide whether to run away or towards her brother.
Apollo waved his hand, “semantics,” he said. His eyes twinkling like this was an old debate.
Artemis whirled around to glare at Percy. “If this is a joke, then it’s sick,” she growled, “I don’t know what Hermes did to get you involved but this is cruel.”
“It’s really me, Arty,” Apollo said softly. Artemis refused to look at him, trying to maintain her resolve.
“Prove it,” she commanded, stoically.
“How?” Percy asked.
“Say his name.”
“Say his name or you shall spend the rest of your sad existence as swine.”
“Apollo,” Percy said, “his name is Apollo.” And then, it was like watching a puppet have its strings cut off. Artemis’s knees made contact with the worn rug beneath their feet, and she collapsed in a heap. Apollo ran forward to kneel beside her, uncaring of the dirt or dust, eyes only for his sister.
“I haven’t heard his name in so long,” she whimpered, “I can’t even say it to myself, just to remember what it sounded like.” She buried her face into Apollo’s chest, perhaps reveling in his warmth like Percy had only moments earlier. “He forbade your name from anyone’s tongues,” she mumbled against him, “he took you out of the stories and from the memories of mortals and cursed the rest of us with the inability to even utter it.” She looked up at Apollo, red eyed and tear stained cheeks. “I was so afraid,” she admitted, “I was scared that if he took your name from existence and gave your domains to others that you would fade.”
“I’m here, Arty, I’m here,” Apollo shushed, rubbing circles on her back, “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere ever again. Promise.”
“How are you back?” she asked, pulling away slightly. Remembering Percy, Artemis stood up and cleared her face. “Father made it impossible for you to be freed. He made it so that the only way that you could be freed was by a mortal in his favor saying your name, but then he went to erase you from history and make it so that those who knew you were unable to even think of speaking your name aloud.”
Percy gave a low whistle and Apollo looked pained at the lengths their father had gone to wipe his son from the world.
“So how?”
Apollo shrugged and jerked his head in Percy’s direction.
“I don’t know,” Percy said, “no, really! I have no clue,” he defended himself at the twin gods’ dubious looks. He told them about how the museum he was working on stumbled upon the statue at an auction accidentally (ignoring Apollo’s squawk at being auctioned off like common cattle and grinning when Artemis smacked him upside the head), and how the statue arrived at the museum yesterday and that all he did was read the inscription at the bottom and bam! a collector’s item god appeared.
“The mere fact that the statue even made it directly to you,” Artemis started, wonder in her tone, “is such a fortuitous coincidence. The one demigod that can actually protect a god,” she laughed, “a fortuitous coincidence, indeed.”
Apollo snorted. “Coincidence? Artemis, we live in a world determined by the Fates! Nothing is a coincidence, especially not this,” he grinned wildly. There was something different about him, Percy noted, and he realized that it was the fact that for the first time since meeting him, Apollo looked hopeful. Exuberant, even. Knowing that the Fates were on his side put a pep in his step that he had been missing. He shook his head, grinning in disbelief, “I knew Clotho liked me,” he said, elated. Then he turned to Percy, leaning down and whispering conspiratorially, “she was always sweet on me, you know.” He winked and laughed. Bright and boisterous.
“Brother!” Artemis admonished, but she too seemed lighter.
“Hate to be that person,” Percy interjected, quieting them down, “but what exactly does this all mean? Apollo has been decalcified, but what does that mean for us? Zeus still as a bounty on his head and he still doesn’t have his domains,” Percy pointed out.
Apollo deflated but Artemis stood firm.
“We fight,” she said as if that was the most obvious solution. “Our father has been hoarding his power and guarding it viciously for the last two millennia, crushing anyone who he feels is a threat. Regardless of them being guilty or not,” she said. She turned to her brother, “your only sin was being more beloved than him, and instead of changing himself he decided to eliminate you instead.” She clenched her fists, closing her eyes as the memory of that day came back to surface. “I almost lost you,” she whispered. “Had aunt Hestia not spoken out when she did, he would’ve smited you that very day. I tried to free you before, you know. I found where father hid your statue about two hundred years after it happened and got one of my huntresses to read the inscription. Lysandra. The second she tried to say your name a bolt of lightning struck her where she stood.” Her face contorted, somewhere between a grimace and grief. “That’s how we learned that it wasn’t just finding the statue and having a mortal say your name, but it had to be a mortal in father’s favor. After that, though, he almost threw you into Tartarus. Convinced that no one would ever find you there.”
“But I didn’t end up in Tartarus,” Apollo intoned, “what happened?”
“Mother.”
“Mother?” Apollo gasped.
Artemis smiled proudly. “She heard what Zeus had planned and went to Rhea.”
“She did not!”
“She did,” Artemis insisted, “she petitioned Rhea, mother to mother, to please convince Zeus not to throw you where a monster would surely destroy you.”
Wow, Percy thought. He gave a low whistle, “your mom sounds pretty great.”
“She’s the best,” Apollo smiled dopily. “Thank the Fates for Leto.”
“Bless Leto,” Artemis agreed. “Father got an earful from grandmother that day and backed down, but then he hid you away again, and that was the last we ever saw of you.”
“I’m sorry,” Apollo said.
“Not your fault, dummy,” Artemis waved away. “This is all to say that father is absolutely unfit to rule, and I have long been awaiting this day.”
“One small problem,” Apollo reminded.
“The domains,” Percy continued.
“I don’t have any,” the blond finished.
“Oh?” Artemis asked coyly, “you sure about that?”
Next to Percy, Apollo gave a started gasp and glowed a little brighter. On his back there now rested a quiver, full of arrows and a golden bow, near identical to Artemis’s silver one. He turned his eyes, wide with wonder, to his sister. “How?!”
Artemis laughed, a light twinkling like a star. “Your domains are quite stubborn, little brother,” she said, “it has been rejecting me ever since you awoke.” Her fingers toyed with her own bow, plucking the string lightly. “I imagine that everyone else who has any portion of your domains is feeling their reluctance to work for them.”
“Who else has them?” Apollo asked, blue eyes shifting to gold, previous happiness gone, replaced by a cold anger.
“Peace, brother,” Artemis soothed. “For the most part, your domains have been in safe hands. The Muses have music and poetry, Asclepius took on your healing domain as well as plague, Poseidon retook prophecy, and I merged your archery with mine.”
“You left some out,” Apollo stated.
“Yes,” Artemis said evasively, “I did.” She sighed. “Father took truth, and Athena took knowledge.”
A burst of heat flashed through the room in response to his anger. “And the sun?” he gritted, “who took the sun?”
“No one,” she said simply.
The heat dimmed.
“No one?”
Artemis shook her head. “The sun refused to let itself be tamed by another. I tried for a while, for the sake of the humans,” she explained, “but the weight of the sun and moon was too much,” she lamented. “Others tried, of course, but the sun refused to move.”
“Amazing,” Apollo laughed, vicious and sweet.
“So, assuming that we can get the sun-” Percy started.
“And we will,” Apollo stated.
“Then all that we need to do is regain the rest of his domain and overthrow the king of the gods? You realize how crazy that sounds, right?” At Apollo’s hurt look, he hurried, “I’m in, don’t get me wrong, but we’re going to need allies, not just us three. Hermes already said he wouldn’t take part in any of this, and Zeus will definitely have Athena and Ares. That already puts us at a disadvantage.”
“So you are able to strategize,” Artemis mused.
“I spent a lot of time with Annabeth and in war rooms,” Percy mumbled defensively, “this isn’t my first rodeo.”
“No, it isn’t,” Artemis agreed. Clapping her hands, she turned to the two males in the room with her. “Leave the allies to me,” she said, “I know more than a few people who have a bone to pick with Zeus. I can also talk with Asclepius and the Muses, I’m sure that they’ll be more than willing to return your domains once they learn of your return.”
“And I can speak with my dad,” Percy offered. At their nods, he chuckled, the weight of their decision settling into his body.
“Long live the king,” Percy joked.
Twin archers faced him, vicious smiles on their faces. Blue and green eyes melded into golden and silver ones, and Percy’s breath hitched. This was what true Olympians looked like. Zeus, for all his blustering and bravado, only knew loud rage, explosive anger, and, after living with Gabe for so long, Percy knew how to handle that. These two? They were a controlled, white hot anger, unpredictable yet calculated. Percy felt like prey under their gaze and shuddered.
“Long live the king,” they snarled.