Huntress: Trials of the Gods
Angel Lawson & L.J. Swallow
1
ARTEMIS
The day the sun eclipsed, a shadow crossed my soul. As I stood with the younger girls and watched the sky darken, the birds stopped their song. The heat of the day vanished as the ring of fire enveloped the moon. Many have never seen an eclipse, and we reassured them the world wasn’t ending. The older women whispered that the gods were angry. I don’t believe in their old tales, but something felt wrong, unnatural, with the way the moon blocked out the sun.
I can’t explain why, but even after the sun reappeared, it no longer held the same warmth as before. A chill settled in my bones.
Since that day a week ago, I’ve dreamed about my brother Apollo again, and when I wake in the night I see his face in the moon’s surface.
The forest is warm this time of year, even after the sun dips behind the trees. My skin is salty with sweat, my hands stained from a day on the hunt. I killed a deer and two rabbits—all three with my bow. Iris took the bodies into the shed, where she’ll skin and prep them for winter.
Victoria walks next to me, eyes ever-alert on our way to the falls. My bow hangs on my back, still dirty from today’s hunt. “A few more days like this and we’ll be set for harsh weather, don’t you think?”
I nod in agreement, stepping over the roots and rocky path with my bare feet. “Iris will cure the meat. Hestia has grown enough herbs and spices to keep us in stock.”
It always seems too early to prepare for winter—for the lean days ahead—but two decades of living in the forests have taught me it’s never enough.
“Thank Zeus we do not have to worry about feeding males. Dione told me she watched them eat in the village. Barbaric, shoving handfuls in their mouth like swine.” She jabs me in the rib. “Sort of like you.”
I frown, as much at her for invoking Zeus’s name as making fun of me. “I’m not that bad.”
She raises her eyebrows and a teasing grin lifts her lips. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed the difference between us. Her skin tans and turns a golden brown. Her eyes are bright blue like the sky. She has dainty fingers and her feet are never black with grime like my own. But she works in the settlement, not out in the woods like I do. Her calling isn’t with a bow and arrow but with keeping order for all the females.
There’s still a last bit of sunlight when we reach the edge of the falls and I peer into the clear pool, getting a look at myself. Red, wild hair falls halfway down my back. My eyes are dark green. My cheek has a smear of dirt—or maybe blood—across my pale skin. Even though I ruffled at Victoria’s comment, barbaric may not be the wrong description. I’ve always had a desire for freedom, an urge to climb trees and hunt in the depths of the forest.
Which is fortunate, because I have no other choice.
Setting my bow on a large rock, I peel off the leather tunic and pants and leave them on the grass. The water is cool against my hot skin, providing relief from a weary day. Victoria also strips, leaving her smock and skirt next to mine. I divert my eyes as she enters the water. We’re close, like sisters, except she’s curvy and short and her hair is never knotted like a wren’s nest, unlike my own. Hers is sleek and combed—braided neatly down her back.
“Here,” she says, offering me something from her satchel. It’s a small lump of soap. “Aceso made it yesterday.”
I hold it up to my nose. “Smells like lavender.”
“She found a patch growing near the back fields.”
We lather and scrub, sharing the soap. Victoria takes a moment to remove a stubborn patch of dirt from my back. “Oh, your necklace is caught in your hair.” I feel her fingers gently pull my hair away from the chain. I touch the charm hanging from the front. It’s a half of a golden sun, the rays blazing like fiery hair. It’s my most-prized possession—other than my bow. Since the eclipse, it has felt like a heavy stone and not the delicate forged gold.
“Thank you.”
“What do you think they’re like?” she asks, swimming away. We continue to wash in private. It’s not safe to venture away from the camp alone. We have a rule about going in pairs, even if it is to just wash the grime and stink off our bodies.
“Who?” I know who she’s asking about. We’ve discussed it over and over.
“Men or even just a man.”
“How would I know? I’ve never seen one.” This isn’t exactly true, but not a lie, either. I’ve seen one in my dreams. My brother. He’s a man now just as I am a woman.
“Aceso says they smell. And they have wide noses. Their arms are big.” She flexes her tiny bicep. I make one and it’s not much bigger, but at least a small mountain of muscle appears. We laugh.
“I think they’re not worth thinking about. You know they don’t consider us.”
“What if they do?” she asks quietly. “Your father sent you here. He created this place for you to be safe. He must think about you.”
“Or he wanted me out of the way so he can continue his patriarchy over the world without the embarrassment of a daughter.” I swim toward the shore and climb out of the water with dripping wet hair.
Once we’re both dressed again and lying on the grass to dry our hair, I roll toward her and wince from the pain that shoots through me.
“What happened?”
“I fell. Chasing the buck. I’m sure the bruise will be worse tomorrow.”
“There’s salve in the pantry.” She looks up at the stars. “I didn’t mean to bring him up. Zeus. I know talking about your father is painful.”
I nod and say nothing. What is there to say? He tore me from my mother. My brother—a twin. He sent me to this place to be raised in freedom away from the dark, seedy politics of the world outside. It seems like a kind thing to do—except the hole it left in my soul hurts like hell.
It’s almost dark when we dress and head back to the hidden encampment. We cross the wards that keep our home safe from outsiders and find the rest of the group sitting by the fire, eating dinner. I grab my bowl and take a large scoop from the pot. The venison smells delicious. I offer Iris a smile as I take my usual seat.
A throat clears a few feet away and I brace myself. I’d hoped maybe we’d lingered long enough at the falls to miss Empanada’s nightly blessing. Not so lucky, it seems, and Victoria smiles sympathetically at me from across the fire.
Empanada takes a deep breath and begins. “We take a moment to thank our creator and protector, Zeus, for providing us with a safe home, dense woods, and capable women in our community. We’re lucky to have this safe haven from the politics and war of the outside world, where the goddesses are treated as inferior and the gods dictate our moves. Here we are free to roam, live, and survive as equals.”
The firelight flickers, crackling and snapping with roaring heat. Empanada’s eyes skim over me and my skin blisters. She, like everyone else, is aware of my lineage and the myths that swirl around my inclusion in this community. Even if Zeus was trying to protect me, it still hurts to be pushed aside while my brother was accepted. Each woman is my sworn protector, dictated to keep me safe—even if I am the strongest and do not need their protection.
They need me.
That thought becomes truth when a twig snaps in the woods beyond the clearing. I hear the break, followed by a heavy footstep. Human, not beast. I count the faces around the fire. Everyone is here, which means whoever is out there isn’t one of us.
I’m up and standing on my seat in a heartbeat, bow out and arrow nocked. Most of the women around me scatter, although a few warriors move into position. I stretch my elbow back just as a shadow moves in the distance. I release the arrow, aimed true at the heart of the trespasser.
Thwick
I relax, knowing the point met its mark when I hear the sound of impact. Stepping forward, I move to the edge of the clearing to see who got past the wards and dared approach our encampment.