My altar was just a low table, handmade from cypress wood, then sanded and oiled to bring out the grain. A quiver of arrows and a compound bow rested against the left side of the altar. The bow was a palintonos, the same type of weapon Odysseus had used. Unstrung, the ends curled back until they almost touched.
I smiled, remembering how my friends used to take turns trying to string the bow. The five of them working together had come close, but they’d gotten in each other’s way. Raj had taken a nasty cut to the cheek when he lost his grip on the end. Another inch and he would have lost an eye.
I’d stopped letting them play with my weapons after that.
Atop the altar was a beeswax candle and a xiphos, a Greek double-edged short sword with a bone handle. A fine layer of dust covered it all.
I took a plastic disposable lighter from beneath the altar. I hesitated before lighting the candle. I’d hardly prayed at all since walking away from the Guardians Council and giving up my life as a Hunter. When I did, it was awkward and uncomfortable, like texting an ex.
I flicked the lighter and touched the flame to the wick.
“Beloved Artemis, goddess of the hunt,” I murmured. The words flowed as easily as breathing. “Fleet of foot and keen of vision, hunter and guardian, whose aim is ever true. Your servant calls to you. As a child I took up your bow. As a maiden I worshipped you. As a Hunter I slew those that threatened the natural cycle of this world.”
I paused. There was no response.
“I know you’re listening. I’ve felt you peering over my shoulder since last night.”
Nothing. She rarely bothered to respond to me. To the goddess, turning my back on my duties as a Hunter was the same as turning my back on her.
“You’re such a drama queen. You know it wasn’t about you.” I rubbed my eyes. “I still need you. Not as Goddess of the Hunt but as the Healer. My friend Temple is unwell.”
YOUR FRIEND IS IN DANGER. THEY BOTH ARE.
“Oh, you deign to talk to me tonight?”
MIND YOUR TONE, HUNTER, LESTISMITE YOUR ASS.
“My apologies, mighty Artemis.”
She didn’t speak in a way anyone else would hear. Rather, her words filled my thoughts, pushing all else aside like an explosion. It was disconcerting on the best of days.
I missed it.
Her voice reminded me of an archetypical mother, both loving and stern. When she spoke, you couldn’t help but feel like a child, smothered by her knowledge and power.
No mortal mother could compare to a goddess, but mine had been further off than most. Joy Winter was...flighty, to say the least. She and Henry had loved me, but they’d never quite understood how they ended up with a wild, undisciplined, overimaginative South Korean adoptee or what to do with me once they had me. They’d taken hands-off parenting to the extreme, giving me freedom and distance that felt more like indifference and apathy.
I think the Guardians Council chose them deliberately, knowing their neglect would make it easier for me to train and fulfil my duties.
IF YOU WISH TO SAVE YOUR FRIENDS, YOU MUST TAKE UP MY BLADE AND BOW AGAIN.
First Morgan, now Artemis. “I’m not a Hunter anymore, remember?”
IT’S CUTE THAT YOU BELIEVE THAT.
“Rude,” I muttered. “Goddess, you know why I walked away.”
IKNOW WHAT YOU TELL YOURSELF.
In forty-plus years, I’d never truly won an argument with Artemis. “What danger are they in?”
THE HARBINGER KNOWS.
“I had a late night, mighty Artemis. Could we skip the cryptic clues?”
MORTALS USED TO HAVE MORE PATIENCE AND RESPECT. TECHNOLOGY HAS HOBBLED YOUR ATTENTION SPANS. ISPEAK OF THE BOY, RONNIE. HE IS THE HARBINGER. Apause. AHARBINGER IS ONE WHO SIGNALS THE APPROACH OF SOMEONE OR SOMETHING GREATER—
“I know what a harbinger is!” I clenched my jaw.Take a breath, Winter. Don’t get snippy with the goddess.When the frustration had crested and begun to recede, I asked, “Will finding Ronnie help me save Temple?”
