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“Thank you,” she whispers. “But even with that, I don’t believe I can convince Apollo out of this. He has made his decision of what he believes to be best for the realm and I need to learn to respect that.”
“Could Uncle Ov help?” I ask.
Maybe the advisor could talk some sense into the Sun God.
Ov was beyond strange. When I think I understand him, I realize that I know nothing. The more I reflect on our interactions in the garden the more I want to know about him. Figure out what he is playing at. But with more knowledge of him, the more confused I become. Though, if he has survived this long with the gods, he must know how to keep his head down.
Maybe I'm overthinking this. Perhaps he is odd without any ill intentions.
She shakes her head. “For now, it’s up to the Fates, Apollo and Hera.”
Over the next several days Artemis came to me. Throwing herself into the research of what god took my dad.
Although I’m thankful for her efforts, I knew what she was doing. She was trying to distract herself from what was happening with her upcoming engagement by not letting herself have a moment to process what was coming.
With each of her visits, she’d come back with developments, tidbits, and descriptions of how her search was going.
Each time giving me updates on her efforts of tracking down portraits that weren’t destroyed or were small enough to stow away. So far, she’s had no luck.
Though she spoke of a family portrait with nearly all of the Olympians and the extended family in the library. But the frame was huge and Artemis couldn’t covertly sneak them out of the records hall without considerable magic.
Magic which when used seems to speed up the plague.
A risk that she nor I wanted her to take.
So instead she’s taken her hand at sketching her family. Though she was no artist, I appreciated her effort. She walked through the descriptions of each of the Olympians.
I listen to Artemis as she runs through each of the Olympian Gods. Talking about them, their appearances, powers, and such before displaying her hand drawn portraits of the men.
Conjuring a picture based on a complete stranger was hard enough but this was difficult. In the end, I'm not sure how much good it has done.
“What about your dad?” I ask.
Artemis looked up from her journal. Giving me a suspicious side eye. “What about him?”
“We still have Hades and Zeus’s descriptions to go,” I remind her politely as I give her a smile.
“Well, my dad has been imprisoned in Tartarus for many years now. Where he has been sealed away for many years,” Artemis states. “But he has long dark hair and icy blue eyes.”
The description was underwhelming. Extremely generic. So much so that with that kind of description, I can conjure fifty faces of people I know with that basic appearance.
Artemis is one of the few allies and friends that I have here. She’s been putting in so much time to help me. Time that I can’t pay her back for.
Plus, her father is a sensitive subject.
Hence why the twins were hissing at me for mentioning Zeus.
“Artemis, why was Apollo so sensitive hearing Zeus’s name?” Jutting my chin, I watch as she shifts in her seat.
“He is superstitious.” Laughed Artemis softly. “Believes that if we call him by name that he could’ve summoned him. Though that’s a myth.”
“My people have a similar theory about you all. Hence why we avoid saying the names of the Olympians out loud.” Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “Then why did you hiss at me too?”
“I was trying to deescalate the situation. I know how Apollo can get.” The goddess shrugs. “I didn’t want him to turn his anger on you.”
“It’s possible that your dad was kidnapped by a minor god or even a titan. There are too many of those to name. Tartarus, I doubt that I remember well enough to even describe one of them.” Artemis flips through her notes. Searching for any gods that she could’ve missed.
“What about Hades?” I ask.
