Kia wouldn't leave her side even after they'd landed.

Perhaps Zoë found it insulting that the person who'd killed her wouldn't leave her alone, even in her final moments. Maybe it was silly of her to call herself Zoë's killer, but referring to herself as anything less than that felt like guilt personified wrapping its dirty and thorn-covered hands around her neck and suffocating her with each breathe of air entering her lungs—with the same poison she used to ignore when she could have saved Zoë.

The words were being repeated mindlessly, like a phrase that had been engraved into her tongue. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

But they were useless, just as she was now. What could she do, other than stare at a goddess actually helping her friend (if she were even allowed to call her that) and Thalia murmuring words of comfort while tears were streaming down her face? Just as three times over, Kia could just stare, watching another die while she lived.

It was like sharp shards of ice piercing her chest as she watched the faint glow around Zoë die. There was no ambrosia or nectar. No healing potion or fraught of wellness. It was dying. She was dying.

"Can't you heal her with magic?" she heard Percy ask Artemis. "I mean... you're a goddess."

Even Kia knew that this was a death that could not be prevented, or at least, anymore. For this was a fate written in the stars, if not by the Fates. Cruel as they were, the carefully written words painted onto all souls with stains of blood from centuries of bloodshed could not be changed. It did not change for Orpheus, a man who's loved stretched over the reaches of the afterlife. It did not change for Achilles, who's fate was preordained by the end of a man on the other side of the war, one he could not protect. It did not change for even Hercules, the best of all demigods.

And it would definitely not change for Zoë.

"Life is a fragile thing, Percy. If the Fates will the string to be cut, there is little I can do. But I can try."

As Artemis' once fluid hand moved, trembling, to Zoë's side, it was stopped at once, by none other than Zoë's own weak hand. Dread seeped, pouring into the empty carcass of Kia's heart, as an understanding of the worst kind passed between Zoë and Artemis.

"Have I... served thee well?" Zoë whispered, her voice notably softer than it had ever been.

"With great honor," Artemis spoke softly. "The finest of my attendants."

Zoë's face relaxed, as if released from a chain of hardship and suffering. Kia supposed that was what death was. She hoped Hades would take care of her friend well. "Rest. At last."

"I can try to heal the poison, my brave one."

Kia knew, she knew painfully that it wasn't the poison that killed Zoë. It was Atlas' final blow, the one he used to swat his daughter aside like a golden drachma that would be all that was needed to win this war, the one he used to forever solidify himself as a monster in Kia's eyes. The centuries of war, hatred, grief, and strife were nothing compared to him being the reason Zoë died—a wonderful woman who had wisdom that went beyond the reaches of even gods, who had the kindness of a person taking a child off the streets and giving them a warm place to stay, the love of a fire that kindled embers brighter than the sun.

Zoë took Thalia's hand.

"I am sorry we argued," Zoë said faintly. "We could have been sisters."

"It's my fault," Thalia said, blinking hard to keep the tears away. "You were right about Luke, about heroes, men—everything."

"Perhaps not all men." Zoë smiled weakly at Percy. "Do you still have the sword, Percy?"

He didn't say anything but he drew the pen out of his pocket and put the it in her hand. She grasped it contentedly, closing her eyes and letting out an exhale. "You spoke the truth, Percy Jackson. You are nothing like... like Hercules. I am honored that you carry this sword."

She coughed, and Kia felt her heart stop for a moment. There wasn't much time left.

She hadn't realised, but she'd still been repeating the words under her breath.

Zoë took Kia's hand into hers. There was a splatter of blood on the inside of her wrist. Her index finger was bruised a greenish colour like sickness; she held it up and didn't let it touch Kia's skin. Zoe's hand was paler than usual but the honey-like hue was still a beautiful contrast to the bone-white Kia's hand was. Everything about their skin touching each other's in their palms became high-definition, and for those few seconds, all Kia could focus on was the way Zoë's fingers were gripping tightly but her palm was lightly placed on hers.

"It was not thy fault," said Zoë. Kia had never realised, but Zoë's voice was harmonic; in those few seconds, Kia would have given anything to preserve it, even if it were for a small while longer. "I am grateful that we could be friends."

A sickening shudder ran through her body, shaking the fragile strands of the grass beneath her body.

"Zoë—"

"Stars," she whispered. "I can see the stars again, my lady."

A tear trickled down Artemis's sculpted cheek. "Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight."

"Stars," Zoë repeated. Her eyes were fixed on the night sky, illuminated by some sight that seemed thousands of lives farther away than this winter scape. And she did not move again.

Kia didn't cry at first. Her eyes were fixated on Zoë's body. She could almost see her wearing a magnificent silver chiton, sprawled on the grass as if she were asleep in a world where such things did not exist. Her skin was dazzlingly bronze with a golden shimmer wherever the moonlight would concentrate. Her long lashes would flutter, meaning she wasn't gone. Zoë seemed to be in a state of peace even celestial beings could not achieve. She would live, and she'd live beautifully.

Artemis cupped her hands over her mouth, and she spoke a few words in Ancient Greek. A silvery wisp of smoke left Zoë's lips like a final breath of glitter, and the goddess caught it in her palms. Zoe's body shimmered like a flakes of iridescence coming off and it disappeared.

Artemis stood, and she said a few words that sounded like a blessing, breathed into cupped hand and gently released the silver dust to the sky. It reminded Kia of a lantern being released into a dark sky. It floated up, sparkling to signify its presence, and it vanished.

There was nothing, and then, she heard a gasp. Kia was sure everyone saw it. The stars seemed brighter now, like an outer force was sending power to them by proxy. There was a new pattern—one Kia was sure had never been seen before. Dots lining up to make a constellation of a girl with a bow, running across the sky. These specific stars gleamed and flowed brighter than any of the others; Kia had truthfully never seen something so beautiful. She felt selfish thinking it, but with such a scenery, she was grateful to be alive.

"Let the world honor you, my Huntress," Artemis said fondly, looking up. "Live forever in the stars."

Kia was crying now. So was Thalia. And Percy. As well as Annabeth. Annabeth has gone over to hug Thalia and rock her in her arms, while Percy took over Kia and they cradled each other, heartbreaking sobs and cries filling the air as they mourned the loss of one do the greatest people they'd ever met. If they won this war, Zoë would be one of the reasons they did.

While Kia's breaths bated for a second, she took the time to look at Artemis. She was flickering with her silver light. Something told Kia that she wouldn't want to see it if she revealed her divine form, but she thought it'd be disrespectful to Zoë's memory to look away from the one that mourned her most. She felt a wet patch on her shoulder.

She tore her eyes away from Artemis to see Percy's face buried in her neck, desperately trying to keep away any sounds of grief. Her hand crept up to his hair and, although hesitantly, she started running her fingers through the tangled locks.

Percy, even if he tried to hide it, was also very affected by this loss. He didn't seem like the type that cried a lot, and if he did he'd probably try to hide it or do it when he was alone. They were all vulnerable in this moment, so Kia ignored the wetness mingling with the skin of her collarbone and let him weep against her shoulder.

Eventually, they had calmed down enough to think rationally.

"I must go to Olympus immediately," Artemis said, a sterner demeanour taking over. "I will not be able to take you, but I will send help."

The goddess placed a hand on Annabeth's shoulder. "You are brave beyond measure, my girl. You will do what is right."

Then she looked quizzically at Thalia, as if she weren't sure what to make of this younger daughter of Zeus. Thalia reluctantly looked up, and something passed between them. Artemis' eyes softened in sympathy. She turned to Percy.

"You did well," she said. "For a man."

Turning to Kia, she said, "The hunt will always welcome a warrior like you."

She mounted her chariot, which began to glow. Everyone looked away. There was a flash of silver behind the flesh of Kia's lids, and just like that, she was gone.

"Well," Dr. Chase sighed. "She was impressive; though I must say I still prefer Athena."

Despite it all, Kia couldn't help but crack a tiny smile. Percy, next to her, nudged her but his lips were also twitching:

Annabeth turned toward him, her voice taking a somber tone. "Dad, I... I'm sorry that—"

"Shh." He hugged her. "Do what you must, my dear. I know this isn't easy for you."

His voice was a little shaky, but he gave Annabeth a brave smile. Maybe there was more to Dr. Chase than they'd all thought.

Kia heard a whoosh, like the sound of badminton rackets moving against the air. Three birds with wings emerged through the fog: two ivory winged horses and one of pure obsidian.

"Blackjack!" Percy called.

So, apparently Percy was friendly with these winged horse-things. They were called pegasi. She vaguely remembered some myth about the first pegasus being born from Medusa, but she could barely believe they were actually real. Just how much of this Greek stuff was true? She needed to lie down for a bit.

The horse made some bobbing motions with its head.

"It was rough," Percy admitted.

Kia stared at him incredulously. "Are you talking to him?"

Percy didn't answer, hoping she'd believe that once again he couldn't hear her when she asked if he was talking to animals. His face felt warm.

Blackjack bobbed his head a few more times at Percy, before looking over Kia, Annabeth, Dr. Chase, and Thalia. Kia never thought a horse could look so judgemental. She guessed this was Percy's ride. They both seemed like assholes.

"Nah," Percy said, out loud. "These are my friends. We need to get to Olympus pretty fast."

Did this horse just offer to stomp on them? Blackjack looked at Kia cheekily, as if he knew what she was thinking. He neighed, his two front hooves going up. Kia stuck her tongue out at him. Two could play at this game.

Percy winced. "I don't think Blackjack likes you."

"Well you can tell him I don't like him either!"

If horses could glare, Blackjack would be doing it right now at Kia. She glared right back. It was almost comedic how much they hated each other after having meeting each other for five minutes.

During their little squabble, Percy had randomly assured Blackjack that Dr. Chase would not be going with them.

"Fascinating," Dr. Chase said, staring open-mouthed at the pegasi. "Such maneuverability! How does the wingspan compensate for the weight of the horse's body, I wonder? Why, if the British had had these pegasi in the cavalry charges on the Crimea," Dr. Chase said, "the charge of the light brigade—"

"Dad!" Annabeth interrupted, her cheeks dusting pink.

Dr. Chase blinked. He looked at his daughter and managed a little smile. "I'm sorry, my dear, I know you must go."

He gave her one last awkward, well-meaning hug. As she turned to climb aboard the pegasus Guido, Dr. Chase called, "Annabeth. I know... I know San Francisco is a dangerous place for you. But please remember, you always have a home with us. We will keep you safe."

Annabeth didn't say anything, but her eyes were dimmed with red. Kia felt bad about letting Dr. Chase go off like that, so she asked, "You'll be okay on the way back, right?"

Dr. Chase gave her a sad smile, as if he knew her intentions. Kia guessed smartness wasn't just of logic or normal intelligence. "I'll be alright, Kia."

He brought his hand up in a sad farewell, more directed to Annabeth than others. He trudged off and Kia couldn't see him anymore.

Because Kia was mildly terrified of riding on Blackjack (he would never throw her off! Okay, maybe a little struggling, but that's it!) and she hasn't been trained to ride one alone, she hopped onto one with Thalia. She learned this pegasus' name was Porkpie. He liked Kia much more than Blackjack did.

Thalia was so tired she fell asleep almost immediately. Kia held onto her waist to make sure she didn't topple over and become a grease spot on the eastern hills. Kia was cautious with every minute change in rhythm of their flight, but the repetitive motions of swoops and ducks eventually lulled Kia to sleep as well.

Of course, sleep led to dreams.

She was near a... lake? Green mountains stretched all around her, like they were closing in, keeping her confined here. A small part of her head admitted it was beautiful—nature untouched by the bloodstained hands of man, but the rest felt the silent warning: You will not leave.

She heard a breath behind her, and she turned to see a man standing there, staring at her. He was wearing a purple Greek chiton, with strapped sandals like he was actually from centuries ago. His face looked oddly modern for a man who lived so long ago, however. He had neat dark hair like he'd trained it to be that way—it kind of reminded Kia of Superman's haircut. He was muscular, but weirdly not bulky. Lean, but not skinny. He looked like he tread right on the line between muscular and lean. His eyebrows were drawn in a curious expression, as if he was waiting for her to guess who she was. She almost held her breath when she met his eyes.

The man with the dazzling sky blue eyes spoke, "Do you know who I am?"

His voice was deep and handsome, like just like him.

"Am I supposed to?"

His lips twitched the faintest bit, and Kia thought he might've smiled if he didn't have more to say. "You and your friends have spoken about me quite the bit on your quest."

Kia's mind quickly sifted through the contents of their past conversations. He eyebrows raised in surprise before her face made an expression so harsh it made the god wince. "How dare you show your face to me, Hercules?"

Instead of answering, he kept his eyes steady on hers and circled her, like measuring her for a butchering knife, wondering which one would cut through her flesh the best. As if he'd decided, he stopped.

"I was a demigod once too, you know."

"Nah," Kia scoffed. "I just happened to forget what a pathetic excuse of a demigod you were."

"You're angry about Zoë, I understand—"

"Shut up! Don't say her name." Choppy breathes were all that could be heard. "You aren't worthy of saying her name. She–She trusted you—you! Of all the people."

Hercules' jaw tightened. "I'll have you know I helped you on this quest. You could have never—"

But Kia didn't let him finish. "I didn't want your help! I don't care if I couldn't have completed the quest without you."

Kia was full on hyperventilating now, her breathes coming out in short intervals. She stumbled on her footing. Did breathing always making her this dizzy?

"Sit down," Hercules ordered.

Kia didn't have much of a choice when she fell to her knees, hunching over her stomach. Hercules waved a hand and a glass of water appeared in front of her. Not drinking it, she glared at him as coldly as she could in such a weak state.

"It's not poison, if that's what you're wondering," Hercules said, almost bored, maybe even mocking. He rested his chin on his palm with his arm brought up like it was resting against an invisible railing as he stared down at Kia's pitiful form.

Her eyes darted to the glass of water and back to Hercules, before her quivering hand brought the glass to her lips. It was something unlike anything she'd ever known, it felt like each individual cell in her body had been newly rejuvenated by the substance in the glass. It tasted like ordinary water, but it's effects were so pleasurable that Kia had gulped it down to the last drop.

She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, avoiding his eyes, feeling the red hue of embarrassment crawling up her neck. "Not nectar?"

"Nope," she could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "A secret."

Kia rolled her eyes. "You're pretty insufferable for a god."

She looked up and Hercules looked somber; she'd never seen a god look so far-off before, except for maybe Artemis when Zoë died.

"Being a demigod isn't easy," he said, "but neither is being a god."

Kia hated herself for feeling a little bad for Hercules. She'd always found herself providing sympathy to those who didn't deserve it. "Why are you talking to me? Shouldn't gods be away from mortals?"

The creep of bitterness into her words wasn't something Hercules missed, and his eyes sharpened like an eagle's as he detected it. "I'm the patron of heroes. I might be an exception."

Kia rolled her eyes. "You're a dick."

She said it so bluntly that Hercules was honestly taken aback for a moment. No mortal, even when he was a demigod, had ever spoken to him this way. He considered smiting her for a moment, but that was before he realised her tone had lost all its bite. She said it like it was a fact, which he supposed was fair enough.

"I am," he admitted.

Kia inhaled. "So what, you're here to give me a pat on the back for not dying on this quest? Thanks, but I think your life has been more miserable."

"Harsh." Hercules whistled irritatingly. "But I'm here to say sorry."

A pause. "For what?"

"For Zoë."

Hercules watched in the reflection of the lake Kia's eyes become stormy at the mention of her lost friend's name. He didn't know if he truly was sorry, but he was sure that he was supposed to be. Every time he thought of Zoë (which was about once a decade), he'd get all sad and malcontented, like his heart was missing a possibility that might've been. Hercules had been a god for far too long to remember what true loss felt like, but he guessed that, if anything, this is the closest thing to it he'd ever feel. Each moment would be a catalyst in his ever declining humanity. But what humanity can be left in a god stripped of all that makes him human?

"You should have said that to Zoë," said Kia with a note of finality.

"I doubt she'd ever listen."

"And she'd be right for doing so."

"I agree."

A wind rustled past them, pink petals moving past them in and everlasting waltz of nature.

"It isn't your fault either, really."

She made a face where she scrunched up her nose and looked like she'd been sucking on a lemon rime. "Don't try to rope me into your assholery."