Artemis the Brave

by Williams, Suzanne; Holub, Joan

  “Whatever. I’m outta here,” said Apollo. He picked up his bow and arrows in disgust.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  Artemis whipped around. Orion was standing right behind her. He didn’t have a bow or quiver, but he was wearing a pouch clipped to the waist of his toga and was gripping three wooden arrows.

  “I was just leaving,” said Apollo, shooting him a wide, fake smile. “You two have fun.”

  “Hey, I brought my own arrows, but if you’re not going to need it for a while, can I use your bow?” Orion asked him. The boy had guts, that was for sure. Or maybe he just didn’t realize he was pushing too hard. Apollo kept walking.

  “Ignore him,” said Artemis. “He never lets anyone borrow his bow. Not even me.”

  “That’s okay,” said Orion. “I’ve never understood it, but girls always seem to warm to me more than boys.” He smiled, showing gleaming white teeth. “You may find this hard to believe—I know I do—but not everyone’s a fan of O.”

  “O?” She couldn’t help cringing. Ares sometimes talked like this, and she’d always thought him conceited.

  “I’m shortening my stage name to O. It’s catchier, don’t you think?”

  “I guess so,” she said uncertainly.

  “Ready to get started?” he asked.

  Artemis nodded slowly, wondering if she should go after Apollo and try to coax him into coming back. Not only were they twins, they’d been best friends since birth. It felt weird to be arguing with him.

  “Listen, I really appreciate you helping me like this, Artie,” Orion continued, his eyes big and twinkly as he gazed at her. “You’re the best.”

  Dazzled, she just stood there, a goofy grin growing on her face.

  He reached for her bow. “Can I try it?”

  She hesitated. Like Apollo, she didn’t like loaning her bow to anyone, but if she refused to let Orion borrow it, she was afraid he might not like her. “Sure,” she said, pretending it was no big deal. Still, when he grabbed the bow by the string, she was jolted out of her stupor. “Not like that! Hold it by the arrow rest.”

  “Oh, right,” he said, flipping the bow around in his grip. “I knew that.” He peered into her quiver, openly admiring her silver arrows. “Can I—?”

  “No! You can’t use my arrows. I’m training them for the archery contest, and it’d confuse them to be shot by another archer. It’s better if you train your own instead.”

  “I see.” Quickly finding the notch in the blunt end, he fitted one of his wooden arrows over the string in the wrong place. Then he drew the bow with his right hand.

  Before Artemis could scold him for doing this without getting into proper position, the arrow’s shaft slid sideways off his supporting hand. Falling from his fingers, its sharp tip stuck in the dirt.

  Shocked, she stared from the arrow to Orion and back again. It was a good thing Apollo hadn’t stayed to watch. He’d be laughing his head off.

  “Your bow is different from the kind I’m used to,” Orion explained quickly.

  “Really?” she asked, intrigued. “I’ve never seen another kind. What does yours look like?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” His white teeth tugged at his lip as he plucked his misfired arrow from the dirt. “Why don’t you just show me how yours is used? Pretend I’ve never shot one before. I want to relearn everything the way it’s done here on Mount Olympus.”

  “Why?” she asked in surprise as he handed her bow back to her.

  “Because Eros is a god. In the play, I want to shoot like he would, not like a mortal.”

  That made sense. Taking her bow, Artemis stepped up to a line painted on the grass. “Okay. This is the shooting line,” she told him. “Stand behind it before raising your bow. Never step over it until you first call out, ‘Clear.’ If other shooters are nearby, they’ll also call out to let you know when they’ve cleared off the range area.”

  “That’s to make sure no one gets shot accidentally, right?” said Orion.

  Artemis nodded. “Of course, our arrows are magic. They wouldn’t actually wound anyone if there were an accident. We dip them in the Pool of Magic to make them safe.”

  “Pool of Magic? Where’s that?” asked Orion, listening intently.

  “On Earth, in the Forest of the Beasts,” she replied. It was thrilling to have his attention totally fastened on her. This must be how he felt onstage when the spotlight shone on him.

  “That’s the setting for the play!” he said, his eyes twinkling again. “Could we go there so I can see it?”

  She shook her head. “Mortals aren’t allowed in the forest, except during class.”

  His brows rose. “Even though it’s on Earth?”

  Artemis tried to explain. “It can be a scary place, even for immortals.”

  “Aw, come on. You’re not afraid to go, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Artemis lied. It was one thing to go to the forest as part of a class exercise with experienced archers by your side. But it would be quite another to go with only a novice for company—and a mortal at that.

  “Oh, please. I just want a peek,” Orion coaxed in his smooth actor’s voice. “I won’t be able to do a proper job of acting the part if I’ve never even seen the actual setting. I like to experience what my characters see, hear, and feel whenever possible.”

  He had a point, thought Artemis. And the no-mortals rule was really more of a guideline than an actual rule. Some MOA students were mortal, after all, and they’d been there plenty of times during their classes. Apollo wouldn’t like her going there with Orion, of course. But he wasn’t here, so he couldn’t tell her what to do.

  Besides, they shouldn’t encounter any beasts. It was Saturday. If there weren’t any classes, Professor Ladon’s game would be turned off. “Okay,” she said. “Wait here a second.”

  Dashing to the gym, she grabbed two pairs of winged sandals from the basket just inside the door. When she returned, she gave a pair to Orion. Once they’d slipped their feet into the sandals, the laces magically wrapped around their ankles. Artemis immediately rose to hover a few inches off the ground. Orion didn’t. “I think mine are duds,” he complained.

  “They won’t work for a mortal,” she explained, “unless you’re holding on to an immortal.”

  Orion reached out and linked his fingers with hers. Her breath stopped and her face went red. He was holding her hand!

  “Whoa!” he said, teetering off balance as he rose. He gripped her right hand tightly, continuing to wobble for a minute. But as he began to get the hang of it, he grinned at her. “Wow, I’m pretty good at this.”

  He has more confidence than anyone I know, thought Artemis. And that was a good thing, right? It was attractive, anyway. People liked confidence in others.

  The dogs weren’t happy when she told them they had to stay put until she and Orion returned, but she didn’t want to have to look out for him and them all by herself. Trying to ignore their whines, she grabbed her bow and quiver. “Let’s go,” she told him. Leaning forward slightly caused the sandals to accelerate. And they were off!

  Together they skimmed down Mount Olympus, passing through a ring of clouds as they traveled toward Earth. Orion smiled at her, his teeth shining white as twinkling stars. She smiled back. Had there ever been a more perfect time in her entire life? She couldn’t think of one!

  “That was mega-mazing!” he told her when they reached the Forest of the Beasts.

  “Yeah,” she agreed. She was never going to wash her right hand again. A low afternoon fog swirled near the forest floor, and in the distance, a pool of smooth blue water glistened, surrounded by fantastic plants that wiggled and writhed. Artemis pointed. “That’s the Pool of Magic I was telling you about.” As they coasted near the ground, a target rose to hover just beside the pool about twenty feet away from them.

  Orion said, “This is the practice area? We shoot at that target?”

  Nodding, Artemis guided him even lower. Then she relucta
ntly let his hand go, and they both touched down. They took off their sandals and pulled out their equipment. “Okay,” she said, all business now. “So we’re pretending you know nothing about archery?”

  At his nod, she patted the wooden parts of the bow, naming each in turn, “Lower limb, arrow rest, upper limb.” Then she picked up an arrow and showed him its feathered end. “See the nock?”

  He leaned closer, and her heart thumped a little faster. “That’s the little groove in the end,” he said.

  “Mm-hmm.” Quickly she showed him how to fit the groove over the bowstring and rest the arrow tip on her nonshooting hand. Standing behind the line painted on the ground, she held up her bow to demonstrate proper shooting technique. Slowly and carefully, she pulled back on the string, sighting along the arrow shaft toward the target. “Aim. Then . . . release!” When she loosened her fingers, the arrow flew toward the target.

  “Bull’s-eye!” shouted Orion. He sent her an admiring glance. “You’re good!”

  Smiling, she gave him her bow and watched him step up to the line. His form was better this time, but his wooden arrow missed the target by a mile. Although they practiced for another hour, she was a little worried about him. Eventually he was able to hit the target, but nowhere near a bull’s-eye. Not good enough to prove himself to Zeus. Though she didn’t say so, it looked to her like Dionysus was going to get the part after all. That was only fair. Both were great actors, but Dionysus’s archery skills made him the better choice.

  “It’s getting late. We’d better go,” she said finally.

  Orion nodded. “I’ll retrieve the arrows.” Again he forgot to wait for an all-clear signal. But since they were finished shooting, she didn’t scold him.

  While he was gone, Artemis located their winged sandals and sat under a tree to put hers on. A soft hissing sound reached her ears. She glanced up at the branches, thinking it was the wind moving through the leaves. But all was still. Then she heard a different sound.

  Click! Click! Click!

  “What was that?” she asked. When she turned to look Orion’s way, her heart began to race. Standing only five feet from him was a beast. One twice his size with crablike claws, eight legs, and a shiny black exoskeleton. A giant scorpion! She’d never seen one before, except in her class textscroll. Suddenly, she remembered that Professor Ladon sometimes tested new beasts on weekends. This one must have been sunning itself on a rock beside the pool the whole time they’d been practicing, just waiting for them to come close enough to strike.

  “Go away!” yelled Orion, waving his hands wildly.

  “That won’t help,” she called. “Stay calm.” To her surprise, his face was white and his entire body was quivering. Where was all his confidence now? The scorpion clicked closer to him, curling its tail—its venomous tail—high.

  Artemis leaped to her feet. Orion was a mortal. He could be killed! Oh, why had she brought him here? For a moment her mind locked up and she couldn’t think what to do. He had retrieved their six arrows, but they weren’t any good to him against the scorpion without a bow to shoot them.

  “Helllllp!” Orion ducked low, his hands covering his head, as the scorpion’s tail aimed for his neck.

  Looked like it was up to her to be brave for the both of them—even though she wasn’t feeling very brave at all. Grabbing her bow, Artemis raced toward the unfolding disaster, not sure what she would do when she got there. She reached Orion just as the scorpion struck. Raising her bow, she jammed it over the point of the beast’s sharp tail. Surprised, the arachnid forgot Orion for the moment and swung its tail wildly. When the bow shook loose, it flew overhead to land under the tree where she’d left her quiver. Click! Click! Click! The scorpion turned on them again, even angrier now.

  “We’re doomed!” cried Orion. Cowering, he tried to hide behind her. She thought she heard him whimper for his mommy, but she wasn’t sure. Something rolled out of the pouch he wore at his waist—his bottle of GodBod! When the scorpion was almost upon them again, Artemis dropped to her knees, grabbed the spray, and aimed the nozzle.

  Tssst! She spritzed the scorpion, covering it with a beautiful, glittery shimmer. The beast froze, looking stunned. Its image began to flicker, first disappearing from view, then reappearing again, then disappearing.

  “What’s happening to it?” Orion squeaked.

  “Who cares? Run!” Artemis shouted. He took off immediately, still gripping their arrows. A wild sway of the scorpion’s tail knocked the spray from her hands as Artemis followed. Her sandals made her faster, and she grabbed the back of Orion’s toga on the way, towing him toward the tree.

  There, Orion slipped on his magic sandals and she grabbed her bow. Thank goodness it was still in one piece! After the ties laced themselves at his ankles, she took his hand and they sailed back toward MOA leaving the flickering beast behind.

  By the time they arrived, her heart had calmed. “Listen, I really want to thank you for saving me,” said Orion as they both tossed their winged sandals into the basket just inside the school’s front doors. “You were amazing—as brave as Heracles! Of course, I’m hoping we can keep this whole episode to ourselves. Wouldn’t want you to get into trouble for taking me to the forest.” He clapped a hand on her shoulder, just like Apollo did to his buddies. His guy buddies.

  “Right,” Artemis agreed, sighing inwardly. Was that really how he saw her—as another guy? A buddy? And why did that bother her so much?

  Selecting three arrows from the six he held, Orion slid them into her quiver. “And thanks for bringing me up to speed on archery, too. I think I can handle the auditions now.”

  She stared at him in dismay. Didn’t he know how terrible he was? Anyone with half a brain could see he wasn’t ready. Maybe the scorpion had scared him out of his wits. Literally. “Are you sure? We could just practice on the MOA field next time, not in the forest.”

  “I’m sure.” Smiling, he slapped her heartily on the back. “Thanks for everything. See ya, Artie.” With that, he headed off.

  She watched him go, a look of yearning on her face. “My name’s Artemis,” she said softly. But he was already too far away to hear. Why did she still like him? she wondered. He didn’t have the qualities she admired. He wasn’t brave or kind, and she had a feeling he sometimes wasn’t totally honest, either. Still, he was cute. Mega-cute. And he was exciting and glamorous, too. When she was around him, the whole world seemed a little brighter.

  But was that enough? Did it make up for his weaknesses? He had been grateful to her for saving his life, at any rate. At least, his thanks had seemed genuine and gracious. Any other boy might’ve been embarrassed to be rescued by a girl. But then, Orion didn’t seem to realize she was one.

  Before she could consider these things more deeply, something cold touched her hand. Dog noses. “Good boys,” she said, bending to ruffle the fur on their necks. They’d waited patiently for her return as instructed. “Hey, since you’re boys, maybe you can explain why Orion sees me as a pal instead of a girl?”

  In reply, Suez barked intelligently and Amby and Nectar studied her intently, their tongues hanging out. Too bad they couldn’t talk.

  “That’s okay. I know you’d help if you could. C’mon,” she said. “Let’s go grab some chow.”

  Too Much Drama

  ON MONDAY DURING LUNCH, ARTEMIS WAS sitting with Aphrodite, Athena, and Persephone at their usual table in the school cafeteria. Having already finished their nectaroni, they were enjoying ambrosia sundaes for dessert, when Artemis turned toward Aphrodite. “How do you get a boy to like you?” she asked. As the goddessgirl of love and beauty, Aphrodite was sure to know the secret.

  The other girls stared at her in shock.

  “I think I’m going to faint,” Athena said, carefully setting down her spoon.

  “Get in line,” said Persephone. “I mean—Artemis? Interested in boys?”

  “Told you it was bound to happen someday,” Aphrodite said sweetly.

  “But t
his is Artemis we’re talking about,” Athena insisted. “The goddessgirl who claims she’s going to barf whenever we start talking about boys or crushes.”

  “Hello? I’m over here. Listening,” said Artemis, waving her hands to get their attention.

  “Sorry, this is just so amazing—so unexpected! Are you serious?” asked Persephone.

  Artemis nodded, folding her hands on the table. “Very. There’s a boy I like, and I want him to like me back.”

  “Orion?” guessed Aphrodite.

  “How did you know?” Artemis cocked her head, suddenly suspicious. “Hey, you didn’t sprinkle me with some sort of love dust to make me like him on purpose, did you?”

  “Of course not!” said Aphrodite.

  “Then how did you guess who my crush was, when even he doesn’t know?” asked Artemis, not yet convinced.

  “I’m the goddessgirl of love. I notice these things,” said Aphrodite.

  Artemis sighed. “The problem is, he doesn’t seem to know I’m a girl. He slaps me on the back like Apollo and his friends do with one another. He even calls me Artie.”

  “Yikes,” said Persephone, giving her a sympathetic look.

  When the bell pinged, Artemis got up to toss her trash. The others did too.

  “I’ll be glad to give you some tips on boys,” Aphrodite said, as they all left the cafeteria together. “Here’s the first one: When you’re around Orion, don’t act starstruck. Just relax and be your usual wonderful self.”

  Artemis gave her a puzzled look. “That won’t work. Why would he choose plain old me when he could have any girl? He’s got a fan club full of them. And like I said, he thinks I’m a guy.”

  “Hades liked me better when I stopped acting fake around him,” Persephone offered. “I think Aphrodite’s right.”

  Artemis glanced at Athena, silently asking her opinion.

  “Don’t look at me,” said Athena. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. But I have noticed that boys admire girls who can do things.”