Chapter 9
Wiping sweat out of his eyes with his left hand, Harry raised his right, holding the wooden hunting knife, to block a strike coming from his opponent. At the same time, he gasped loudly when a second knife probed his ribs from his wide-open left side.
"Always maintain thy guard," Zoë instructed calmly, while Harry tried to catch his breath. "Again."
The boy just nodded, knowing better than to complain about her using two knives; the last time he had gotten a lecture on mastering one knife before even thinking about handling two. Suggesting she limit herself to one knife had gotten him another lecture on how his enemies wouldn't be so accommodating either, so he grit his teeth and toughed it out.
He lunged for his teacher with his wooden knife. It was swept aside with one knife, and he dodged a strike from the second. "Good," Zoë said, aiming a stab at his exposed torso.
He blocked using his own knife, using the force of the strike as a point of leverage and push himself away from the second strike coming from the other side, and made himself as small as possible. Stabbing up at her from a lowered position, he forced her into an awkward pose.
"Good!" Zoë said as she took two steps backwards to get out of range. "'T was a good try at forcing me out of position."
Harry panted. "Thanks, Miss Zoë," he said, trying to wipe more sweat off his brow, breathing deeply to ease the burning in his lungs and the beating of his heart. They were out in a wide-open field under a burning sun somewhere. He hardly ever knew where the Hunters put up camp, but seeing as he arrived by fire, he didn't need to know.
He didn't relax, knowing the next round could come at any moment.
"We should stop here," his instructor decided, stepping further away to indicate training was over and to let him catch his breath.
Immediately, Harry leaned over, gasping. "You're not even… out of breath," he panted at the Lieutenant of the Hunters.
Zoë shrugged. "'Tis but a matter of training. Thou hast improved rapidly over the last few months, ever since I started training thee in the art of knife fighting."
Harry straightened up. "And Mister Ares jumping me about once or twice a week helps too," he said.
Zoë's face twisted as if tasting something foul. "Yes," she admitted reluctantly. "The God of War forcing thee to fight is helping, too." It sounded as if she found it painful to admit.
"Let us go shoot," she said, as if wanting to change the subject and banish the very mention of the God of War with physical exercise.
"Okay, Miss Zoë," Harry said. The Hunter gave him a single solitary nod, and set a quick-run back to the Hunter's camp.
Harry bit back the groan he wanted to let out, and raced after her. He knew from experience that not keeping up her would displease Zoë, and displeasing Zoë resulted in painful lessons. So he ran.
He had to admit that it was good exercise.
They arrived back at camp, Zoë looking like she was enjoying a leisurely jog, Harry looking like he had just fought off a bear and ran a marathon. Quite a few Hunters hid small smiles. A solitary few gave him a sympathetic look, as long as it was out of sight of any of the others.
They arrived at the shooting range, and Zoë indicated for Harry to pick up his bow, having been left there when he had first arrived at camp.
The boy immediately complied. He was still panting when the arrow was nocked, and he started to aim.
"Shoot," Zoë instructed.
Harry tried desperately to calm himself, holding his breath in an attempt to stop his bow from bopping up and down. Unfortunately, his own heartbeat was interfering.
"Shoot," Zoë instructed again. "Thou will not always have the luxury of calming thyself. Thou must learn to shoot while out of breath!"
Harry shot, and managed a passable 8. Zoë disagreed, and ordered him to shoot again. He clipped the 9 band this time, and had a new arrow up before Zoë could tell him to do so.
When he scored a solid 9, edging towards the bull's eye, she stopped him, and made him run a few times around the camp. 'To get the blood pumping again'. Harry sighed, and started running; this was going to be a long afternoon, he could tell.
He was right. Close to two hours later, his entire body was trembling with exhaustion, and his accuracy had waned considerably. What was worse was that Artie had showed up 15 minutes ago, and was watching his 'practice'. He wanted to show her he was good with a bow, and now he could hardly draw, let alone shoot accurately.
"I think he has had enough, Zoë," Artie said when his final shot landed in the paltry 5 ring.
"Disappointing," Zoë said, eyeing him. Harry's shoulders slumped. He hadn't often felt this much like a failure, but here it was.
Artie seemed amused. "You must remember that he is but a mortal boy, Zoë. A demigod, sure, but mortal nonetheless. He has not had the same enhancements as the Hunters."
For a moment, Artie's Lieutenant blinked, gaped, then nodded contritely. "Thou art correct, My Lady." She let out her breath. "I had forgotten." She turned to look at Harry. "Thou did far better than expected. I had… overlooked… thou wert not a Hunter."
Harry looked surprised. He wasn't a failure? "Thou didst well," Zoë repeated at his look. "'T was my own overzealous behavior that pushed thee to exhaustion."
"Ah… thanks, Miss Zoë," Harry said, finally accepting the fact that he had done well, rather than poorly. Zoë's Shakespearean English accent had started slipping as well, so she must be upset about her slip.
"Come on, let's get you a shower," Artie said, motioning towards the shower tent. "Before you stink up my camp," she added with a teasing smile.
By now, Harry was starting to get used to the Goddess of the Hunt's various moods, recognized that she was only teasing, and gave her a smile. "Of course, Artie. I can't give you your hug like this," he answered.
Artie returned a smile and shook her head in played-fake tolerance. Harry grinned. "And who knows, Maybe Miss Zoë will finally let me give her a hug, too."
"Nay," The Lieutenant in question replied with a tiny smile. "Thou should know that by now."
Harry didn't know why he said it. Maybe it was the memory of a conversation he had with Hestia, maybe it was the fact that he felt really good, if exhausted, after a long day's training. Whatever the cause may be, Harry turned to the Huntress, and said, with his finger pointed at her, "One day you'll change your mind, Miss Zoë. Or you'll forget you're not supposed to hug. And that day, that day you say 'yes', is the day I will give you the hug of a lifetime!"
Artie seemed amused by something, while Zoë floundered, for a moment unable to formulate a response.
"And what would be thy next goal?" she finally demanded. "After thou hath hugged me, will thou demand a kiss next!?"
Harry, stunned, hadn't expected that response at all. He opened his mouth, and then closed it when no reply came to mind. The Hunter gave a sharp nod, apparently confident that she had won the verbal exchange. He couldn't let that stand...
Harry turned to Artie. "Artie! Miss Zoë's being disgusting! Tell her she can't kiss me!"
It was the turn of the Goddess of the Hunt to be caught flat-footed by the change in conversation, and from the stunned look on Zoë's face, she was caught off guard as well.
Artie grinned, recognizing a joke, and shook her head. "I find myself in the strange situation of having to defend a male from one of my Hunters. Usually it is the other way around." She sighed, and looked at Zoë. "Zoë, I must insist that you not kiss Harry. It's most uncouth."
Zoë's surprised look deepened, and some of the Hunters who overheard the conversation gave muffled laughs. The lieutenant of the Hunters gave them a baleful glare. The muffled laughter stopped. She turned back to her goddess. "My Lady!" she protested.
Artie just laughed, while Harry snickered. Recognizing she had been played, Zoë shook her head. "Thou art bad influences on each other," she declared, but the tiny smile on her lips showed she didn't really mind. It had been a good joke.
"Don't worry, Miss Zoë," Harry said, hoping a peace offering would placate her wrath. "I would never demand a kiss. Kisses are disgusting."
Zoe eyed him. His next training promised to be extra painful. Zoë didn't mind jokes, but she also believed in getting even.
After his shower, his hug with Artie, and handshake with Zoë, Harry fire-walked back to Olympus, and made himself a large dinner. After leaving a portion with Mister Helios, he found himself a good book and relaxed while eating.
He was exhausted, and famished, after the harsh training Zoë had put him through, so the food disappeared quickly, and he went to bed early.
He slept through the evening, and the night, and woke up early the next morning feeling a lot better. Having had his share of Ambrosia in his dinner, his muscles had healed overnight so he wasn't even stiff, let alone sore.
He decided on having a quiet and calm day; as healed as his body was, he still felt tired.
After breakfast, he gathered his cleaning supplies and whistled a small tune while preparing to uphold his other bargain with Helios – keeping his temple clean.
Whistling, he dusted and cleaned. By the time lunch rolled around, he was almost ready to start mopping the floors, getting rid of all the dirt that his other cleaning efforts had stirred up.
He had just about sat down to his lunch, when a rapid and urgent knocking was heard on the door. Frowning, Harry made his way to the large double doors. Who could it be, and why did they sound so urgent?
He pulled one side of the double doors open, revealing a furtive figure dressed in a long hooded cloak, said garment completely obscuring the figure's features. Harry didn't even know whether it were a man or a woman!
"Can I come in?" the figure asked. The voice was masculine, but muffled so Harry couldn't place it. The boy frowned, but his instincts weren't reacting. Trusting the fact that he didn't feel like he should be getting away right now, Harry stepped back and let the figure in.
No sooner had he closed the door, or the figure threw back the hood of his cloak, and straightened up where he had obviously been stooping under the bulky garment.
The young boy blinked. "Hello, Mister Hermes," Harry said, immediately recognizing the God of Messengers.
The god immediately waved his hands and made shushing noises. "Don't say my name, nobody can know I'm here!" he said, urgently.
"Ehm… right, Mister He… er… Mister H. What can I do for you?" he stammered, almost repeating the god's name despite having just been told not to, and correcting himself at the last possible time.
Hermes grinned slightly. "You learn quickly, I like that about you, Harry," the god said, rubbing Harry's messy hair. Harry pouted; he hated being reminded of his messy hair. Hestia had warned him that Aphrodite, or her daughters, would probably never let go of him trying to tame it.
The young boy thought his favorite goddess was exaggerating. Silena definitely hadn't said or done anything weird.
"Anyway, why I'm here," Hermes went on to say, dragging Harry's thoughts back to the present. "I… eh… need some help. Under the radar, so to speak."
Harry blinked. "How can I help, Mister He… Mister H? And what does 'under the radar' mean?"
Hermes grinned. "'Under the Radar' means nobody knows, Harry."
"You mean, like a spy?" the young boy asked, excitedly. Every boy wanted to be a spy at one point!
The God of Messengers smiled widely. "Exactly like a spy. Now, your mission, should you chose to accept it, is to do that fire-walking trick Aunt Hestia taught you, and get my son and his companions to camp. I know you've helped Athena's girl, so you can do the same here."
Harry nodded. "Sure, if I can find them. Why don't you want anyone to know, though?"
Hermes sighed. "The Ancient Laws forbid interference. We can get away with little nudges here and there – a feeling, a dream, things like that. But outright interfering? That's a no-no. So, I want you to travel to my boy and his friends, and get them to camp, and do it without anyone knowing it was me asking."
Harry nodded again. "I just have to find them. How many friends do I need to take? Because I'm not sure how many I can take in one go."
Hermes grinned. "It's just my son, he's called Luke Castellan, by the way, his friend Thalia Grace, Daughter of Zeus, and a Satyr by the name of Grover Underwood. They're being chased by monsters, so the sooner, the better. Also, I am the God of Travelers, and your fire-walking is a form of traveling, so I can… nudge… you towards their camp fire tonight."
"That sounds good, Mister H. I'll get them to camp. Ehm… a daughter of Zeus, though?" Harry asked.
Hermes grinned crookedly. "The big guy would never deign to ask anyone to help his precious princess; he seems to believe she's the next coming of… well, himself, I suppose. He probably couldn't fathom that she would ever need help."
"Everyone needs help sometimes," Harry said, recalling the various lessons that had been knocked into his head by various godly and demi-godly trainers.
Hermes nodded in agreement. "Right you are, Harry. Keep an eye out tonight, and I'll guide you to their camp fire."
"If they don't want to go, Mister H," Harry began, tentatively. "I mean… Annabeth didn't want to go, and we were jumped. I don't want the same to happen, and with there being three of them..."
Hermes looked serious. "Harry, Grover should know of you, you brought Annabeth to camp, after all. But if you need to poke them a bit, I certainly won't hold it against you. The Big Guy, on the other hand..."
Harry shrugged. "Mister Zeus already hates me anyway," he said, fatalistically.
Hermes looked sad. "Right."
The young boy patted Hermes' shoulder, grateful that the god had appeared in mortal form. He so preferred the gods' mortal forms, it made them seem more… human. Easier to interact with. "Miss Hera will protect me, though. I can't imagine she's too happy with Mister Zeus having a daughter."
Hermes grinned. "Right you are, Harry. Right you are. Anyway, I have to get back to work. Lots and lots of packages to deliver!"
"Good luck, mister H!" Harry chirped, waving at the god as he stooped, hid under his cloak, and threw his hood up.
That evening, Harry nervously watched the fire. He had stashed his bow and arrow next to the hearth, ready to be grabbed as he passed by, and kept an eye out for Mister Hermes' signal.
To pass the time, he was playing with Hestia's Lasso. Strangely enough, the divine weapon behaved like an eager puppy, almost reading his mind as he flicked it about, sometimes spinning it over his head the way movie cowboys did in old westerns, before throwing it at something.
The lasso seemed eager, and unless he really messed up the throw, it usually captured what he was aiming at. With a flick of his wrist, it usually released what it had captured, too, and he was able to pull it back.
As the mystical weapon was able to grow or shrink at will, without real effort on his part, Harry had even managed to 'capture' a heavy cabinet and drag it effortlessly across the polished floor, simply by willing the lasso to shrink. Next time he wanted to do a yearly cleaning of the temple, it was going to come in handy to move heavy furniture.
Suddenly, his awareness of the fire pinged, for the lack of a better word, and Harry sighed. He stood up, turned the lasso back into a ring, and grabbed his bow and quiver of arrows. He checked his hunting knife, safe in its scabbard on his belt, and straightened his shoulders.
He didn't feel anything out of the ordinary from his instincts, which could be either good or bad.
He stepped in front of the fire, and hesitated, remembering the last time he had tried to escort a demigod to Camp Half-blood. Then he drew in a breath; he had made a promise and Hestia would be disappointed in him if he did not keep his promises. Mister Hermes would, too, no doubt.
Having gathered his courage, he waved his hand at the fire, and he could feel the God of the Travelers 'connecting' him; it was a strange sensation to connect one fire to another without having conscious control over it, but Harry ignored it. He had a job to do.
He stepped through, to arrive in a darkened warehouse, staring into the blackness of the night that spread beyond the influence of the fire.
"Hello? I come in peace!" Harry said, looking around, trying to discern any movement. Unfortunately, his eyes hadn't yet adapted to the complete dark.
"That's what everyone says!" A teenaged boy's voice replied. At least, Harry assumed the voice was teenaged, as it was no longer the voice of a child, and had cracked with the onset of puberty.
"I'm here to escort two demigods and a Satyr to camp," Harry said to the darkness, his eyes starting to adjust. He looked around with narrowed eyes, trying to find the source of the voice. "The Satyr, Grover, should know me. I brought another demigod to camp, too."
"Who are you here for?" a girl's voice demanded from the complete opposite side of the fire. Harry spun around, suddenly feeling extremely exposed.
"Luke Castellan and Thalia Grace," Harry told the darkness.
"Just Thalia!" the girl's voice shouted, before silence descended.
Harry heard muffled footsteps.
Whispers.
His vision adapted, and as long as he didn't look directly at the fire he could make out three figures huddled together in the shadows. One was a tall boy, likely Luke Castellan, age 14. The other was a shorter girl, likely to be Thalia, aged 12. The third had goat legs and would be the Satyr, Grover.
"Why should we trust you?" Luke demanded. "You could be taking us anywhere!"
Harry blinked, was every demigod going to mistrust him? "I was asked by someone who didn't want it known who he was to bring you to camp," Harry said, miffed. "So that's what I'm here to do. Ask Grover, he should know me."
"He also said you arrived beaten and battered," Thalia snapped. "Who knows what happened before you brought her to camp?"
Harry blinked, not having expected that. The Satyr hadn't been paying attention, obviously. He sighed, starting to lose his patience. "I came to bring Annabeth to camp. She was stubborn and stupid, like you guys, and didn't trust me. We were attacked – I had to kill a man to get her to camp."
"You try being attacked every day for months on end, and see how much you trust people who appear from fires, Squirt," Luke snapped back. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. What was it was demigods and not trusting him? All he wanted to do was help!
Mister Hermes, your son and his friend are very stubborn, he told the god silently. He didn't know whether Hermes was listening or not, but the frustration got the better of him.
"So how can I prove I'm here to help?" Harry asked.
More whispers.
"You said someone asked you to help," Luke finally answered. "Who was it?"
Harry sighed again, he sucked at this spy thing. "Someone who asked to remain anonymous, who definitely isn't your father as that would be breaking the Ancient Laws and he'd be punished severely."
"My father?" Luke asked, surprised.
"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "Definitely not your father. As I said, that would be against the Ancient Laws."
"Stands to reason that my deadbeat dad finally did something and couldn't even be bothered to show up in person," Luke said with a grunt.
"Because that would get him punished," Harry repeated, standing up for Mister Hermes. And really, wasn't Luke listening?
"What's the worst that could happen? He's a god!" Luke snapped, his temper flaring.
"Mister Zeus would strip him of his divinity, and stuff him in a mortal body. He's done it to Mister Apollo a couple of times," Harry answered, trying to maintain his cool. Training with Mister Ares seemed to help, there had been times where his temper would have gotten him into real trouble.
"What?" Luke asked, surprised. "He could actually be kicked down?"
Harry nodded. "Mister Zeus is nasty."
"No kidding," Thalia inserted. "The guy screwed over my family big time. Drove my bitch of a mom to drink, too."
Luke seemed startled at the revelation of what could potentially happen to his father.
Howls broke the silence, and Harry frowned, looking around. To his surprise, his right hand was suddenly holding his bow.
"Great, they found us," Luke grunted, drawing a sword.
Harry waved at the fire, turning it green. "We're out of time, come on!" he urged them, waving at their exit.
"I'm not going anywhere with you until I know we can trust you!" the blonde boy shouted.
Crashing noises came from around them, and Harry's instincts suddenly burst into life. This was very, very bad.
Luke jumped at something jumping from the shadows, and Harry suddenly realized it was an enormous dog, like a giant black mastiff the size of a rhinoceros, with evil, red-glowing eyes.
An arrow bounced off its skin. "Celestial Bronze, idiot!" Thalia shouted, having engaged a second beast, warding it off with a shield that had suddenly appeared on her arm, and a knife she had pulled from her belt.
Harry wanted to curse under his breath; he'd been told about the monsters from Greek Mythology that hunted demigods, but he had never actually made the connection about needing Celestial Bronze arrows.
Grover pelted the giant dog Luke was fighting with tin cans; a tactic that appeared about as useful as Harry's use of mortal arrows.
Harry sighed, and tried again, evening his breathing, aiming carefully. The giant dog moved; his instincts drove him. He didn't know why, but suddenly he just knew that he had to shoot right now, and he let fly.
The arrow was set to bounce off the giant dog's neck, only for the animal to stumble backward and receive the arrow straight in the eye. It howled ferociously, thrashing wildly as the mortal arrow stuck from its eye.
"Great shot, but now you pissed it off!" Thalia commented angrily. "Next time, don't bother!" she jumped away as the giant dog swiped at her, raging mad and half-blind.
Harry cursed under his breath, immediately followed by hoping Hestia hadn't heard him. He drew another arrow.
Artie, please? I need some help? There are these monsters, and my arrows don't do anything… Can you help me? Please?
He was aiming down the shaft, knowing his mortal arrow wouldn't be of any use. He was still hoping, and praying, that Artie would be able to offer him some help.
Suddenly, the tip of his arrow glowed bright silver.
Thanks, Artie! You're great! He prayed to his second-favorite goddess, and let loose. The enchanted arrow seemed to explode through the giant dog's skull, immediately dissolving it into golden dust. Harry didn't bother staring at it, instead drawing a second arrow, and aiming for the dog Luke was fighting.
He hoped… yes, the second arrow's tip lit up, too. He shot another grateful prayer in Artie's direction, and let loose. The second dog exploded, too.
"Where did you get those arrows from?" Luke asked.
"And why didn't you use them from the start?" Thalia demanded, hands on her hips. Harry took a step back, the raven-haired girl looked really mad.
"They're just mortal arrows, so I prayed to Artie for help. I'm glad she did," Harry explained. "She enchanted my arrow tips."
"Artie?" Thalia asked.
Harry nodded. "Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt. She's awesome."
Grover bleated, a sound that Harry found surprising, despite it coming from a half-man, half-goat. Thalia and Luke stared at him. He was getting tired of people staring at him whenever he explained about Artie.
"I trust him," Grover finally announced. "He's got Lady Artemis' favor, and he just helped us kill those hellhounds."
Hellhounds? Were that what he had just killed?
Luke eyed him for a few moments, then nodded. "Fine," he said.
Thalia sighed, and sheathed her knife. The cool shield she was wearing vanished.
"Then go," Harry said, waving them to the still-green fire. He was a bit annoyed at them dragging it out long enough for them to be attacked – even if this time, he hadn't had to kill a man.
Just a couple of hellhounds, whatever those were.
Thalia, Luke, and Grover stopped in front of the fire, and Harry rolled his eyes. Now what was the matter?
"Ehm..." Luke said. "How does this work?"
Harry pointed to the fire. "You step into the fire. The next moment, you're stepping out of the fire at camp. There's nothing to it, really."
Luke nodded, hesitatingly. Just as Thalia looked about ready to speak, the boy stopped her. "Fine, I'll go first." He stepped forward, as if afraid his courage would desert him, and vanished the moment he stepped into the fire.
"You sure he's…?" Thalia asked.
"He's at camp, just fine," Harry said. The girl nodded, and made to step forward. She turned to him.
"If I end up burned, I'm making your life miserable, Twerp," she promised him, before spinning, and vanishing into the fire. Harry sighed; it was just fire-travel, he didn't get what they were so worried about.
Grover bleated again. "Come on," Harry told the Satyr.
"I was supposed to guide them to camp," he complained. "I suppose this means I failed my mission."
Harry grinned. "You found them, you guided them, and they made it to camp. That makes your mission a success. Think of me like taking the bus," the boy told the Satyr. "Come on."
Grover shuffled forward, eyeing the fire nervously.
Harry sighed, grabbed the Satyr's shoulder, and stepped. The moment the fire touched him, he let it whisk him away, taking Grover with him. The next step, they emerged from the central fire that burnt in the middle of the U of Godly Cabins.
"There we are, safe and sound," Harry said, grinning at Grover, who was busy checking himself for any lost limbs.
Thalia and Luke were eyeing the environment, and Harry approached. "See? Not even a sunburn."
The daughter of Zeus grunted. "You brought us here so I'm not thumping you for that one, Twerp," she said, brandishing her fist nonetheless. She was smiling, though, so Harry took it as a friendly joke.
"Harry?" a girl's voice asked from behind him.
Smiling, Harry turned towards Silena. "Hi Silena!" After giving his friend a hug, he motioned to the newcomers. "Is Chiron around? These are Thalia Gr-" he stopped from Thalia coughed, and remembered she had Dursleys herself. "Daughter of Zeus, Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes, and Grover Underwood, Satyr. Guys, this is Silena Beauregard, Daughter of Aphrodite."
"More strays, Harry?" the girl teased, before nodding. "Yeah, Chiron is around. He should be here shortly, that green fire doesn't go unnoticed."
As she spoke, the centaur in question clopped up. "Harry, welcome," he spoke. "I see you brought newcomers."
Harry nodded. "Someone who definitely isn't Luke's father asked me to help them get to camp. Chiron, this is Thalia, Daughter of Zeus, and Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes."
The centaur managed to hide a smile, and turned to the new arrivals. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood," he said, smiling gently. As he spoke, lights went off above the two new demigods, making Harry gape. He'd heard about a god claiming their children, but this was the first time he witnessed it.
Chiron went to one knee, as did Silena, and any other demigod in sight. Harry looked around, confused. What were they doing?
"Hail Thalia, Daughter of Zeus, and Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes," Chiron intoned ritualistically.
The others were climbing to their feet, and Luke looked rather uncomfortable. Thalia, on the other hand, looked like she enjoyed that. Harry didn't know what to think about that; people shouldn't enjoy other people kneeling to them, right?
He was about to say something, when Chiron frowned and looked over his shoulder. The next moment, the centaur looked shocked, then stepped back, deferential toward whoever was approaching.
Harry grinned when he recognized Artie. "Hey, Artie!" He said, waving at his second-favorite goddess, a second-favorite goddess whom he had to do something very nice for after the help she had given him.
Artie didn't look pleased. In fact, she looked rather displeased.
She walked up to him, making his smile freeze, and poked him in the chest. "What," she demanded, "did you think you were doing?"
Harry swallowed. Angry Artie was scary Artie. "Ehm… I was asked to help Thalia and Luke to camp, and we got jumped by Hellhounds, so I tried to shoot them but my arrows bounced off and Thalia said I needed Celestial Bronze which I didn't have so I prayed to you for help and please don't be mad at me," he managed out in one single breath, before needing to take a very deep gulp of air.
Artie studied him for a moment. "At least you have the brain to ask for help when you're in over your head," she stated. "Good shooting, and remember Bronze arrows next time," she added, patting him on the shoulder, giving him a wide smile, and turned to Thalia and Luke, who were staring with open mouths.
Harry sighed, before realizing that Artie had just played him. He pouted slightly, while inwardly feeling elated that the Goddess of the Hunt had complimented his shooting.
Zoë, as ever the loyal shadow to Artie, approached him, looking him up and down, obviously studying him for injuries. "Thou survived they first hunt," she stated calmly. "Although I am disappointed thou didst not think to bring bronze arrows."
Harry smiled somewhat apprehensively, hoping to calm Zoë's temper. "I… don't have any?" he offered. "Mister Apollo made the bow, and the arrows, but they're all mortal, and I just didn't think about getting any Celestial Bronze arrows."
Zoë smirked. "Although thou didst hit one in the eye. That was an incredible shot; many of my sisters would have struggled to hit the eye of a Hellhound in the midst of combat."
Harry started smiling. "Not that it did much good," the Lieutenant of Artie's Hunters said. "Thou wert lucky that Lady Artemis favors thee and decided to assist thee."
Harry nodded, head bent, one foot scuffing at the ground.
"Regardless, My Lady only enchanted thy arrowheads. The skill was all on thee." She reached over, and patted his shoulder, which was probably as close as Zoë ever got to physical affection. "Thou survived, thine prey did not, and thy charges were uninjured. 'T was as successful a hunt as a hunt could be."
"Thanks, Miss Zoë," Harry said, shyly looking up at her. The Hunter gave him a smile and a nod, then stepped back, and walked up to where Artie was talking with Thalia and Luke.
"Thalia Grace," Zoë said.
"Nightshade," she replied.
"Thou hast not changed thy mind?" the Hunter asked with a smile playing on her lips. Thalia crossed her arms and leveled a glare at Zoë. Harry thought it was a reasonably impressive glare, but it held nothing on the Dursleys – and definitely nothing on Angry Artie. Apparently, Zoë thought the same thing, as she ignored it with ease.
"We must depart," Artie said, turned to Chiron, whatever conversation she had with Thalia and Luke apparently over. "We just came to make sure my wayward student hadn't gotten himself hurt again."
Harry felt his heart swell at the thought that Artie and Zoë had dropped by camp just to make sure he was alright.
"He was barely approaching acceptable, 't would have been a massive hassle had injury set him back," Zoë said, looking at him while quirking the side of her lip to show she was teasing.
Chiron gave a chuckle. "Completely understandable. I feel the same way about some of my own students. You are, of course, always welcome here."
Artie gave the Trainer of Heroes a nod, then turned and walked away, Zoë at her shoulder. Within moments, they had vanished, as if they were never there.
Chiron turned towards the younger boy, and said, with a rather mischievous smile, "From the discussion, it appears you aren't carrying any Celestial Bronze arrows."
Harry nodded. "I just don't have any, you know? I didn't think I'd need them, either," he confessed. "The bow was for hunting food, and I just never thought I'd use it for monsters."
Chiron smiled faintly. "You are young still, and oversights are part of learning," he said. "Follow me."
Harry nodded in agreement, and followed the centaur. Part of him felt elated at having completed his mission, without injuries, and with two less monsters out in the world. The second part felt like failure for not having foreseen monsters.
They arrived at the armory, and wordlessly, Chiron entered it. He emerged a few moments later, holding out two quivers, filled with Celestial Bronze arrows. "Here, young Harry. These should help."
Harry smiled. "Thanks, Mister Chiron," he replied, feeling slightly worse now – he should have thought about Celestial Bronze arrows, and he should have thought about asking for them at camp.
"Don't feel too bad, young Harry," Chiron said, supportively. "Making mistakes is how we learn. I'm quite sure this is one mistake you will not be repeating. The most important fact isn't that you made a mistake, it's that you're taking steps not to repeat it."
Harry nodded agreeably, that sounded like excellent advice. Learn from mistakes, as they are a valuable lesson.
He arrived back at Helios' temple half an hour later, after having said his goodbyes. He was kind of curious why he hadn't seen Annabeth. Maybe she had been busy with a project; he knew how he himself could be when he was cooking.
He put away his bow, his old quiver, and the two new quivers filled with Celestial Bronze arrows, and started preparing for the evening.
After a long soak in the hot baths outside, and changing into a comfortable set of pajamas, Harry wandered into the kitchen, opened his recipe book, and started looking up cakes. Artie had really helped him out, so he was going to make her the best cake he could as a thank-you.
"Baking?" Hestia asked, suddenly looking over his shoulder.
"Hestia!" Harry crowed at her sudden appearance. The book was put down, and he captured his all-time favorite goddess in a tight hug.
"Hello, Harry," she answered with a smile, hugging him back. She pulled back shortly later, and eyed him. "Baking?" she repeated her question.
The young boy nodded. "Artie really helped me out earlier, so I decided I was going to bake her a great cake as thank-you."
The Goddess of the Home smiled, and leafed through the recipe book, looking to see what recipes Harry had unlocked yet, and finally settling on one. "I heard about your little adventure. I'm glad that you're alright and were able to bring Thalia and Luke to camp. They've settled in well, by the way."
Harry looked at the recipe Hestia had picked out, nodded, and then smiled at her. "I'm really glad."
"I'm also pleased that Artie helped when you prayed," she went on to say, smiling gently. "I'm sure the cake will go over well as a thank you."
"Thanks, Hestia,' Harry said, grateful for her suggestion.
"On to other matters," the Goddess of the Home said, drawing Harry attention from where he was already planning for tomorrow. "I was finally able to find someone willing to offer you lessons in magic."
"Really?" Harry asked, smiling widely. "That's great!"
"There is, however, a condition," Hestia stated.
Harry grinned, and nodded. "There always is. I can't seem to have a single conventional teacher."
Hestia laughed softly. "It seems that way," she answered. "Her name is Circe. Like Artie, she doesn't really like boys – or men – that much. She is willing to come here and offer you a lesson, however, like Artie, she will consider giving you further lessons only if she feels you are not wasting her time."
Harry grinned. "Just like Artie, and Miss Zoë, and Miss Athena," he said, bouncing up and down. "And Mister Ares, I suppose. He likes 'teaching' me," he added with air-quotes.
Hestia shook her head. "Sometimes, I can not imagine what goes on in Ares' mind," she offered.
Harry laughed softly. "So all I have to do is impress Miss Circe enough?"
The Goddess of the Hearth offered a single nod. "Exactly," she said, before remembering something. "Oh, one more thing. Circe has made… enemies. So you may wish to keep quiet that you are learning from her. She's mostly doing it to annoy her mother, I think, but any lesson is better than no lesson at all."
Harry blinked. "Her mother?"
"Circe's mother is Hecate, goddess of Magic," Hestia explained. "Hecate's rather insular and doesn't really like interacting with people – any people – at all. Circe's father is… was… Helios, so the fact that he has granted you sanctuary in his temple probably helped."
The young boy just nodded. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting lesson, he could tell. His potential teacher disliked boys and men, and was going to teach him to get back at her mother, and because he lived in her father's temple. He needed to keep things straight, or he was going to trip over himself.
Hestia stayed and chatted for another half an hour before taking her leave, and Harry turned in soon after. He was going to have a busy day tomorrow; that delicious cake for Artie wasn't going to bake itself.
He had fallen asleep and started dreaming, when pounding on the doors of the temple woke him up.
As banging on temple doors wasn't something he had ever experienced in the middle of the night, he was in complete stress-mode as he grabbed his dressing gown and ran to the doors, rushing to find out what the emergency was.
To his surprise, it was Mister Hermes in his strange disguise, and the God of Thieves slipped inside the moment Harry yanked the door open. The boy let it fall shut, turning to the visiting god.
"Harry!" Hermes said, pleasantly, as he threw his hood back. "I'm glad to see you completed your mission!"
"Mister He- Mister H?" Harry corrected himself, almost speaking the god's full name. "What's wrong?"
Hermes blinked. "Nothing's wrong, Harry. Why would anything be wrong?"
The young boy gaped at the god. "Ehm… because you were pounding on the door in the middle of the night, Mister H?" he offered. "I kinda thought it had to be an emergency if it couldn't wait until morning."
Hermes blinked, looked surprised, looked at his watch, blinked again, and looked sheepish. "Right. Gods don't really get tired like mortals, and this thing is still in the wrong time zone. Lots of packages to deliver and all that. Sorry about the mix-up and waking you up."
Harry shook his head. "I'm just glad nothing's wrong," the boy offered with a smile. "What can I do for you, Mister H?"
Hermes' grin returned. "This time, there's something I can do for you," he said. "After all, you helped me out, got my boy and his friends to camp, and didn't even ask for a reward. The hellhounds didn't leave any trophies either, the tightwads. So, I thought I'd repay the favor."
"That's really nice of you, Mister H," Harry said, smiling shyly. "You know I didn't do it for a reward, right? I just like helping people."
Hermes grinned, and ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "Don't worry, Harry. Anyway, I'm inviting you to a gathering I have with a couple of my friends next week. We're doing a study in non-deterministic probability."
It took him a few moments to decode that. "Maths?" Harry finally asked. "I'm not good at maths, Mister H."
The God of Thieves laughed softly. "Don't worry, Harry. My friends and I are excellent teachers. We'll teach you everything you need to know."
The boy nodded. "Alright, Mister H. that sounds good, I can use all the help I can get with maths."
Hermes laughed again, and ruffled Harry's hair once more. "I'll let you go back to sleep. I'll drop you a note on the exact day and time, we're all very busy and times may shift a little."
Harry nodded his acceptance, and Hermes threw his hood back over his head and slipped out. Shrugging, the boy turned to Helios' statue. "As a reward for getting Thalia and Luke to camp, I'm getting maths lessons. You know, Mister Helios, somehow I think it's working twice for no reward."
Helios' presence seemed to chuckle and pat Harry's back. The boy sighed, and went back to bed.
He fell asleep quickly. It had been a long and stressful day.
The next morning, he made breakfast, and after sharing it with Helios, got ready for his new magic teacher's appearance. He was wondering what she would be like.
He didn't have to wait long, and soon Hestia was leading a tall woman through the fire. She had dark hair and green eyes, and Harry could feel the power inside of her; contrary to the other gods he had met, she wasn't hiding her power at all.
Or maybe her power was just different enough for him to feel it.
"Circe, this is Harry. Harry, meet Circe," Hestia introduced with her customary gentle smile.
"Hello, Miss Circe," Harry offered politely, smiling slightly, hoping that he was making a good impression.
The woman stared at him, not saying anything. Harry swallowed. He didn't like being stared at at the best of times, and this woman was making him decidedly nervous; it was as if she didn't even see him, but rather was seeing through him.
Circe's green eyes narrowed, and she approached with strides that belied her speed. Somehow, it was as if she were getting twice the motion for half the effort, while staring at something about him that only she could see.
"Harry," she finally said, staring down at him from point-blank distance. It wasn't a nice Harry. It wasn't even a friendly Harry. It was a 'you are an interesting specimen' kind of Harry, and he didn't like it.
He wanted to take a few steps back, put distance between the two of them, but something told him that would be a bad idea. He remained rooted where he stood.
"Tell me," Circe finally spoke after a tense twenty-second silence. "Have you ever been attacked by monsters?"
Harry blinked. "Ehm… I killed a couple of hellhounds yesterday, Miss Circe. But I don't think they were after me, if that's what you're asking. I don't think any monster was ever after me, not like they were after other demigods. Which is really odd."
The Sorceress nodded. "I thought so." She turned to Hestia. "I can not teach the boy. Likely it's for the same reason my mother declined as well."
Harry blinked, not used anymore to being talked about rather than being talked to.
"Why not?" Hestia asked, still friendly, but an undercurrent of steel in her voice. Harry, knowing Hestia very well, could hear it. He didn't know if Miss Circe could.
"The boy has an enchantment upon him," Circe said, turning back to look at Harry. "It has a decidedly feminine feel to it, so likely it was his mother. Unless his father was effeminate. Whoever it was, the enchantment upon the boy is… beautiful. A work of art. A true master's piece. It took the sacrifice of a life, and the offering of a large part of the boy's magic, and wove an intricate protection around him."
Circe broke off her narrative, and narrowed her eyes. "And someone already messed about with it."
"What do you mean, Miss Circe?" Harry asked.
Circe studied him. "Someone enchanted you. By the sacrifice of their life, they protected you. Your magic, a large part of it, is being used to sustain it. In its original form, this protection was absolute. Someone could walk up to you, and shoot you, and the attack would rebound, killing the offender. In essence, every monster in the world could walk up to you, attack you, and all they would accomplish was killing themselves."
Her eyes narrowed again, and she looked angry. "Someone then messed with this protection, making it incredibly fragile. It changed from an active defense to a passive defense – in essence, not a single monster can detect you. However, should they run across you, they can attack you, hurt you, injure you, and kill you. Whoever messed with it should be hung, drawn, quartered, beheaded, and have their remains burnt and scattered to the four winds."
Harry blinked again. This could be why, contrary to other demigods, he had never been attacked by monsters!
"Because your magic is fueling this protection, I can not teach you. Between 90 and 95 percent of your magic is locked away; at worst, you may be able to manage a simple illusion. At best, you may be able to pull off a short-range teleportation while under great duress and you desperately want to get away."
"I turned my teacher's hair blue once," Harry offered.
Circe smirked. "I'm sure she deserved it, considering it was accidental magic. That is my point, however. It will likely be the extent of your powers. Your protection has a time limit, it is set to expire when you turn eleven and are ready to begin your mortal magical schooling."
The young boy nodded, somewhat disappointedly.
"I will not mess with a masterpiece of the mystical arts such as this," Circe re-stated. "My mother, as Goddess of Magic, Choice, and the Crossroads, beholds choice above all else. The choice made by the caster of that enchantment would stop her from interfering. Likely that was the reason for her refusal," Circe said, turning to Hestia. "You would need a caster of my mother's ability to further modify that enchantment without destroying it. Whoever messed with it has made it incredibly fragile to further alteration. I could remove it, but an enchantment that beautiful should not be tampered with."
Hestia nodded sadly.
Circe turned back to Harry. "One thing is sure. That enchantment is eating your magic to sustain itself until the time limit expires. That means your magic is under continuous strain. By the time you reach 11, the resistance will have caused your magic to grow to levels that most mortals can only dream about."
The young boy just nodded. Circe gave a smirk. "At least it gets me out of teaching," she said, her smirk morphing into a grin. She snapped her fingers, and vanished.
"That was different," Harry offered.
Hestia nodded. "At least we know why I have had trouble finding you a magic teacher. If Hecate is refusing it, she will have told the other potential teachers to refuse as well."
"I'm not sure what to do now," Harry told her. "I mean – is it even possible to find someone else? And if you do find someone else, will they break that protection? I mean, I rather like not having to worry about monsters finding me."
The Goddess of the Home smiled slightly. "There are many more people on this world than you realize, Harry," she said. "Finding a different teacher should be possible, yes. Do remember, though, that your protection will end when you turn eleven, and need to start mortal magical training."
The young boy nodded. "Monsters will be able to find me, then."
"Yes, they will," Hestia confirmed. "By that time, though, I expect Artie, Ares, and Athena, to have trained you well enough that you will not need magic to defend yourself."
Harry nodded again, accepting that.
"I will continue to look for a magic teacher. Circe confirmed a few things, so I will need to look for a teacher of a god-level ability. Or better."
Harry blinked. "Better than the Goddess of Magic?" he wondered.
Hestia graced him with a gentle, yet mysterious, smile. "I should go, Harry. I have some business to attend to."
Harry watched her leave, confused, his mind awhirl with what he had just learned. From what Mister Hades had said, his parents had died a heroic death. From what Miss Circe had said, his mother had likely enchanted him with protection – an enchantment that cost her her life.
Suddenly, he was really grateful to Miss Circe. That enchantment was the last thing he had left of his mother.
Deciding on clearing his mind, he made his way back to the kitchen, read the recipe that Hestia had chosen as Artie's reward, and made a list of the ingredient he needed.
Deep in thought, he left the temple and went to the market. He went off autopilot only for buying the required chocolate – Belgian chocolate, with its high cocoa content, rather than the Swiss chocolate that was more milk and sugar than chocolate.
His thoughts switched back to the topic of magic as he made his way to the temple.
He had an enchantment from his mother, it required a deity-level magic user to alter it, and as long as nobody messed with it, it would be with him until he was 11. There wasn't anything he could do about it, so it was best to let the topic lie.
By the time he made it back to his kitchen, he was ready to begin baking.
And baking he did.
4 hours later, he smiled widely at the result. It looked magnificent, and if the taste-testing he did while cooking was any indication, it was going to taste as good as it looked.
Carefully covering up his cake, he made his way to the hearth, and waved his hand. It turned green as normal, but Harry didn't immediately walk through.
After all, this was one of the few times that he was going to visit the Hunter's camp without a prior invitation, and the last thing he wanted was for Artie to be upset with him. She was very protective of the Hunters, and Harry knew some men had done bad things to the Hunters in the past. Harry was sad about that – he liked most of the Hunters, they were cool.
"It's Harry," Harry told the fire. "Would it be okay if I came through? I have a gift for Artie."
The fire remained silent for a few moments. Then, a voice replied, "Come on through, Harry."
The boy smiled, and walked through the fire. Celyn, one of the Hunters, gave him a tiny smile. "My Lady is in her tent, Harry."
He grinned in reply. "Thanks, Miss Celyn!" he told her, and carried his precious cake to the tent he knew was Artie's.
Politely, he scratched at the entrance, requesting permission to enter. Suddenly, he felt rather nervous. What if Artie didn't like the cake? He'd never known Hestia to make a mistake when selecting a dish, but what if he had messed up baking it? His palms started to sweat.
The flap was pulled back by a surprised-looking Zoë. "Hi Miss Zoë," Harry greeted politely.
The Lieutenant of Artemis' Hunters nodded once. "Harry," she said, stepping back to allow him in. "I did not expect to see thee."
"Miss Celyn said it was okay to come through," Harry replied honestly, lifting up the heavy cake. "I made Artie something."
Zoë looked surprised, but hid it quickly. Harry entered the tent deeper, and found Artie sitting in her customary position, with one of her deer next to her, its head in her lap.
Harry smiled, feeling his nerves rise. "Hi Artie," he said, presenting his burden. "I... eh… I baked you something as a thank you. For helping me out, I mean."
Artemis looked surprised, just like Zoë. And, just like her Lieutenant, she hid it quickly. "Really?" she wondered, and at a subtle sign of the goddess, the deer stood up.
The Goddess of the Hunt came to her feet, and approached him.
Grinning nervously, Harry pulled back the cover, presenting the triple-layer chocolate cake he had made.
Artie blinked, and stared at the delicious-looking and delicious-smelling confection. Finally, she seemed to come back to herself, and swiped an arm at a table. "Put it over there," she said, already carrying a knife in the hand she was motioning with.
Harry nodded, and carefully put his precious burden on the indicated table. When he looked up, Artie was already carrying a plate in her spare hand, and was well under way to carving herself a slice.
Harry swallowed as she proceeded to carve a slice and move it to her plate, before a small fork materialized and the goddess deftly cut off a bite.
He wondered if she would like it – but then the bite disappeared between her lips.
The sound that came from the Goddess of the Hunt made him uncomfortable, which confused him, and it made Zoë gape. Artie, apparently realizing the sound she had made, blushed. Harry wasn't even ware that the Goddess of the Hunt could blush.
"My Lady!" Zoë protested.
"You need to try this," Artie replied, and rapidly ate more cake. Harry felt his breath relax; that meant she liked it.
Zoë, suspicious, carved a smaller, thinner, slice of cake. She, too, tried it.
"This is delicious," she proclaimed, with the kind of determination one used to proclaim the color of the sky.
Harry smiled at her. "Thanks, Miss Zoë!"
"Indeed," Artie said, putting her plate down – completely empty. When had she finished that big piece?
"I'm glad you like it, Artie," Harry said, smiling. "I just wanted to thank you for helping me out with the hellhounds and stuff."
The Goddess of the Hunt eyed him. "If this is the reward I can expect for such a minor assistance, you should call upon me more often," she said, smiling, lifting her plate and eating a bite of a new slice of cake. When had she carved that? Harry looked at the cake – it was indeed missing another piece.
He ignored the fact that his second-favorite goddess could carve a cake quicker than the eye could see, and smiled at her. "I don't want to ask too often, though," he replied to her statement. "I don't want you growing tired of helping me, and I don't want to… you know… call you for little things."
"Thou doest not wish to take advantage," Zoë explained. "'T is good for thee to realize this."
Harry grinned at one of his favorite teachers. Artie nodded. "Indeed. Even if it limits our access to delicious cake."
Harry smiled shyly; he owed Hestia a really big hug as thank you for pointing him to the recipe. "I should go," he said, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed over the praise he was receiving.
"Very well," Artie said. "Thank you for the cake."
She was still eating, so he couldn't give her a thank-you hug. Instead, he just nodded. "You're welcome, Artie. Thanks for helping me."
The Goddess graced him with a smile, and Harry quickly took his leave. He didn't want to overstay his welcome, and he had done what he had come here to do.
He wondered about the sound Artie had first made, though. It had made him really uncomfortable, and Miss Zoë had been shocked by it. He wondered why that was.
He arrived back at Helios' temple, still thinking about it.
His thoughts were interrupted by more pounding on the doors of the temple. Frowning, Harry walked over to open them. He was really popular lately, and having people pound on the temple door was starting to get old.
He pulled one side of the double doors open.
And gulped.
"Hi Mister Ares," he greeted politely.
The God of war grinned bloodthirstily. "I heard you got into a scrap with a couple of hellhounds, and got out of it without injury, Brat."
Harry nodded apprehensively.
"Good!" the God of War laughed. "Let's have a fight!"
The boy sighed; this was going to be a long and painful day, he just knew it.