Artemis the Brave (11 page)

Hic! Hic! Hic!
Just then all three creatures transformed into manticores. One flicked his prickly tail, shooting barbs at them. “Ow!” One of the poisonous barbs sliced into Athena’s ankle. She shrieked with pain and fell to the ground. Aphrodite and Persephone dropped down to kneel beside her. Artemis stood in front of them, shooting arrows toward the beasts to keep them at bay.

Aphrodite ripped the barb from Athena’s ankle, for once completely ignoring the fact that she was getting dirt on her chiton. “Beasts aren’t supposed to be able to wound us. And Athena’s really hurt!”

“I’m fine,” said Athena, but her voice was weak.

“No, you’re not,” said Persephone. “You’re bleeding. But don’t worry, I’ll fix you right up.” Quickly she began making a poultice from crushed roots and herbs she found nearby.

“Do you think Orion’s spray d-damaged the protective mechanism Mr. Ladon built into the g-game?” stuttered Aphrodite, eyeing the triplet manticores.

Artemis gritted her teeth, steadily shooting her arrows. But the beasts brushed them off as easily as if they were swatting away flies. “Looks that way.”

Persephone placed her poultice on Athena’s ankle. “This should draw out the poison, but you’re in no shape to fight. We need to get you back to school.”

“Any ideas on how to escape those beasts and do that?” asked Aphrodite.

Everyone looked blank. And scared.

“Artemis?” asked Persephone. Aphrodite and Athena looked at her expectantly too.

“I’m thinking.” Artemis’s mind raced. She had always wondered what she’d do if she was faced with real beasts. These might not be real, but they were certainly dangerous. If she’d ever wanted a true test of her bravery, this was it! Ignoring her fear, she fired again and again, but no matter how well or often she aimed, the beasts continued to advance. As concerned as Artemis was for the goddessgirls’ safety, she was also worried for her dogs. They’d been cornered by one of the beasts and were whimpering with their tails between their legs. Now and then she saw her deer peeking through the trees in the distance, too terrified to swoop in and attempt a rescue with the chariot.

“If only there were a way to t-turn off the whole game,” Aphrodite lamented.

Thinking about what Aphrodite had said, Artemis reached for another arrow. Realizing her quiver was empty, she tossed it away, grabbed Athena’s, and slung it over her shoulder. “There has to be some sort of on-off switch for these disgusting creatures, and I’m betting it’s in the center of that labyrinth.”

“No—you’re not considering—,” said Persephone. “We’re forbidden to enter the labyrinth. We don’t know its rules. It’s too dangerous.”

“And fighting this no-win battle isn’t dangerous?” countered Artemis. “Every quadrant of the forest operates separately. No one else—not Apollo or Hades or even Professor Ladon—has any idea we’re in trouble here. So weigh our choices.” She shot another arrow toward the creatures, who’d now turned into Calydonian boars.

When it only bounced off one of them, Aphrodite groaned. Reluctantly, she stood and began shooting alongside Artemis. “But even if you get past all of them, how’ll you find your way to the labyrinth’s center?”

“I’ve got to try,” said Artemis. Summoning her courage wasn’t easy. But they would all run out of arrows soon, so somebody had to do something, and fast. Besides, they wouldn’t be in this dangerous situation if it weren’t for her. “You keep firing, Aphrodite. That’ll keep the beasts busy while I sneak around behind them.”

Persephone grabbed her arm. “These beasts aren’t predictable anymore. We don’t know what they’re capable of. You could get hurt.”

Artemis tried to sound as confident as Orion. “I’ll be fine. Hunting is my specialty, remember?” To head off any more argument, she simply left. Stealthily slipping from tree to tree, she skirted the clearing, working her way toward the entrance to the labyrinth. The growls of the beasts, their hiccups, and the swishing sounds of arrows being fired were terrifyingly close, but soon she neared the opening in the prickly holly bushes that formed the labyrinth. Darting from the cover of the forest, she zipped toward it and lunged inside.

She’d made it! Racing down one leg of the continuous path, she rounded a corner and zoomed down another. The path wound back and forth crazily, each portion visually separated from the others by thick, leafy bushes, which were impossible to see through. “Labyrinth” was just a fancy name for a maze, and she was going to be a-
maze
-d if she ever found her way to this one’s center.

The ground shook behind her. Footsteps. Big ones. Smelled like a manticore. Something hooked the back of her chiton.
Aghh!
A giant claw had snagged her, lifting her high. Before her eyes, the manticore began changing, and then she was staring down into the slanty eyes of a humongous, serpentine python. Since it had no arms, it held her aloft with its tail. It grinned, opening wide to display three rows of sharklike teeth. She felt herself moving lower, until her wildly kicking legs dangled just above its lips. She could smell its stinky beast breath and feel its heat, too. She was done for. Python dinner.

In the distance Artemis could hear other beasts roaring and snorting. If she failed in her mission, they would gobble her friends and her dogs. As she neared doom, she noticed something. From this height, she could see the entire layout of the labyrinth. It was a huge square, designed in four symmetrical sections. Carefully she noted the path to its center. Then she slid her bow from her shoulder and dropped it into the serpent’s waiting mouth. It lodged there, stretching the monster’s lips into a ghoulish, bow-shaped, ear-to-ear grin. Immediately the serpent dropped her to begin using its tail to pry the bow from its jaws. She tumbled end over end through the air, but a few inches from the ground she righted herself, and her sandals stopped her fall. Breathlessly, she zoomed away.

Two dozen turns later, Artemis found her way to the center of the maze, where she discovered a gurgling fountain. Water spewed from the mouths of a three-headed dragon statue, dripping down its scaly bronze body into a pool that encircled it. One of the dragon’s mouths was open, breathing bronze fire. That particular head seemed somehow familiar. Come to think of it, it looked surprisingly like Professor Ladon. She yanked off her sandals and waded into the fountain. How was she supposed to turn this thing off?

Boom! Boom!
Footsteps. Geryon footsteps this time. The creature was coming after her again.

She hiked up her chiton and shinnied up the long, slippery, swooping neck of the bronze dragon, searching for the on-off switch. There had to be one, but where was it? Stepping higher, she put her foot in the middle head’s mouth.
Yeouch!
Dragon teeth, even bronze ones, were sharp! As she moved her foot, she bumped the dragon’s tongue. It dropped lower under her weight like a pump handle. Losing her balance, she slid down the statue and splashed into the pool below.

Pop! Pop! Pop!
Even underwater, the sounds that reached her ears were distinct. She stood again, dripping wet now. Waiting for claws that never came. What had happened to the Geryon?

“Artemis?” It was Persephone, calling to her from far away.

“Yes!” she called back.

“The beasts are gone!” Persephone gleefully informed her.

“Disappeared in puffs of purple smoke,” Aphrodite shouted. “Are you okay?”

Artemis breathed a huge sigh of relief. The fountain’s tongue must’ve been the on-off switch for the game! “Yes! I’m coming out,” she yelled. Retracing her path through the labyrinth, she was soon reunited with her friends. They hugged one another in relief.

“Whew! This was the hardest A I’ve ever earned in Beast-ology,” said Athena. “Or any other class.” Her ankle was fine now. It seemed her wound had instantly disappeared when the monsters went up in smoke.

“Artemis saved the day,” said Aphrodite. “Our hero!”

“Hooray for Artemis the brave!” shouted Persephone.

“Thanks,” said Artemis. Then, in a move that somehow took more courage than anything she’d just done, she admitted something she’d never thought she’d dare to. “To tell you the truth, I was scared spitless.”

Aphrodite threw an arm around her. “Well, of course you were! We
all
were. You would have been crazy not to be.”

She was right, thought Artemis. True bravery didn’t come from being unafraid, but from taking action in spite of fear. In that instant, she realized that she’d probably always been braver than she’d given herself credit for.

Something nudged Artemis’s hand. Suez. He was holding one of her arrows in his teeth. He and the others were okay! “Good boy!” She gave him a pat. “But I don’t think we have time to retrieve all the arrows. We’ll have to come back later.”

“Judging by the angle of the sun, school’s over,” said Persephone. “We missed our last class.”

“Oh no! The play! I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for opening night!” wailed Aphrodite.

“And I’m supposed to sound the first notes with my flute as the curtain opens!” Athena exclaimed.

Putting two fingers between her lips, Artemis sounded a sharp, high whistle. From deep within the forest came her four golden-horned deer, pulling her chariot. They looked a little wary.

“Don’t worry,” Artemis called to them. “The beasts are gone.”

At her reassurance, they zoomed close and touched down. Artemis hopped into the chariot and grabbed the reins. “Come on,” she told the others, but Aphrodite, Athena, Persephone, and the dogs were already piling in.

Together they whooshed through the forest. Just before they turned upward, toward Mount Olympus, she heard a dog bark. She looked down and saw that her three hounds were resting quietly in the chariot. So who . . . ?

Then someone shouted, “Hold up!”

Artemis would have known that voice anywhere.
Orion.
Even though she didn’t have a crush on him anymore, her heart betrayed her with a little
thumpety-thump.

Stars

A
RTEMIS SWOOPED THE CHARIOT LOWER
until it hovered a foot above the forest floor, just inches from Orion and Sirius. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. She sensed the tension in her friends. They were in a hurry, and no one seemed ready to forgive him quite yet. And why should they? She wouldn’t have thought he’d dare to show his face after taking off the way he had. But as always, Orion seemed oblivious to his effect on others.

“I was trying to find you.”

“Why?” asked Artemis in surprise.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his toga. “My play closed on opening night. They booed us off the stage. Can you imagine?”

An uncharitable spurt of gladness rose in Artemis at the news of his failure. But she did feel kind of bad for him too. “Sorry to hear it,” she said.

He shrugged. “Audiences are fickle.”

Her golden-horned deer pawed the air restlessly. “Well, we’ve got to get back to school or we’ll be late,” Aphrodite said coldly. “Tonight’s opening night for
The Arrow
. Remember?”

Orion nodded, looking eager. “Yes, that’s why I’m here. Can I get a ride the rest of the way? I want to talk to Principal Zeus before the curtain goes up tonight. To tell him I’m sorry I ran out on the play.”

“A little late for that,” Athena muttered.

“Better late than never,” Persephone quipped.

Persephone was looking on the bright side, but Athena was right too, Artemis thought. Orion should have apologized before he’d ever left MOA. Still, since he was trying to do the right thing now, she was willing to help. “All right. Climb in.” Brightening, Orion picked up Sirius as she offered her hand. When he took it, she was delighted not to feel the spark of excitement she’d once felt for him.

Orion squeezed into the chariot, and the other three girls scooted away from him, as if he might have cooties. Artemis grinned. Perhaps he did.

“Hurry!” said Athena. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Chariot, chariot, rise away! Take us up to MOA!” called Artemis. At her command the deer lifted off, and they all zoomed upward. Higher and still higher they went, gliding through the fluffy clouds that ringed the mountainside. Soon the gleaming marble columns of Mount Olympus Academy came into view. And just beyond the school was the amphitheater where
The Arrow
would be performed. It was a sellout crowd, with most of the seats already taken. Artemis could feel the excitement in the air. When they landed next to the stage, Athena dashed to the orchestra pit, while Aphrodite hurried backstage to the dressing rooms. Persephone went with her to help with her hair.

“Good luck!” Artemis called after them. The deer dashed off, but her hounds were exhausted after their ordeal and stayed to nap in the chariot. Sirius stayed with them, and she decided to sit with them as well, watching as Orion went to speak with Principal Zeus. Zeus’s arms were so full of scrolls that he seemed to be juggling them. As he attempted to read his own scribbled notes on one, another would slip from his hands. He’d grab that one, then another would slip. A group of student actors and technicians surrounded him, all asking questions at the same time.