From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)(17)

“Yes, he is about as unreachable as one can be, and even if he wasn’t, he has no memory of his human life.”

“The only thing she could ever do is watch him…gods, Eleni. What about Echo’s mirror?”

Eleni’s face quirked in confusion. “Why ever would Echo need a mirror? She’s an apparition. She has no face.”

Artemis propped herself on her elbow and looked down at Eleni. “No, no. The mirror isn’t only a looking glass. It was Aphrodite’s once, long ago. Echo told me the story. You remember how Pan used to chase her before she was bodiless?”

“Her and every other nymph,” Eleni said with a wry half-smile.

“Well, yes, but particularly her. She and Aphrodite were quite close then. Everyone loved her stories before Hera cursed her to only speak echoes.”

“Hera and her curses. She’s the most spiteful, horrid, vindictive—”

“Yes, yes, but not the point. Aphrodite gave her the mirror, so she could evade the Satyr, but that particular mirror was also enchanted to see into the underworld.”

The plan clicked together behind Eleni’s eyes as she looked up at Artemis. “Brilliant. But why would Aphrodite ever have such a device?”

“To watch Adonis when Persephone held him captive in the underworld.”

Eleni sat up with a smile. “And you are positive Echo still has it?”

“There is only one way to find out,” Artemis said as she stood. “I will go to her and ask her to return it to Aphrodite.”

“What do you think Aphrodite will do?”

“If fortune finds me, Aphrodite will watch Adonis and do nothing else, which will allow me to retain control over the players.”

Eleni shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up at Artemis. “It just might work.”

“Of course it will,” Artemis said with a grin, giddy at having a plan. “Round up the nymphs, and prepare for our afternoon hunt. I have an old friend to visit.”

“Yes, mistress.”

She turned to the edge of the rock, and the nymphs below moved to the shore, tilting their faces up to her as she lifted her arms and sprang from the ledge, falling down, down, until she slipped into the water like an arrow.

Artemis swam into the emerald depths of the small pond, past the rock face covered with plants that waved in the slow currents. She pulled herself through the entrance of a small cave with a natural skylight and looked up to the sun. Strands of her midnight hair hung in the water around her, much like her thoughts, which found their way to Orion again.

He had been her companion for many years before she realized what was truly between them, only to have him ripped away from her. The giant was a hunter and her best friend, though she had missed him for thousands of years, mourning what might have been had he not been killed. It had taken so long to understand that she loved him, and the shock and confusion of the revelation never found an end.

There was no resolution and never would be.



The moon was high and bright that night, and Artemis crouched behind a wild basil bush to mask her scent as she watched a buck in a clearing before her. She counted his points.

Eighteen. Orion will never beat me.

The creature lowered his head and nibbled on a patch of spring grass. He never heard Artemis draw her bow.

The arrow flew straight into his heart, and he took off at a sprint, only making it about a dozen meters before he collapsed. She trotted over to him and knelt down, laying her hand around the base of the arrow.

“Peace, noble brother,” she whispered reverently as he slipped away.

Artemis made quick work of field dressing the buck, eager to return to camp and see who had won.

She and Orion would compete often to see who might bring back the most, the biggest, the best. It was usually a draw, which both impressed and annoyed her.

She thought of his face when he had lost to her, and her heart fluttered like bird’s wings in her chest.

They were together almost always, spending long hours doing what they both loved. Hunting was their foremost recreation, the thrill of the track and the chase, the anticipation of finding what you sought and taking it for your own.

But it was more than that common enjoyment. Orion could make her laugh, truly laugh from deep in her belly and until she had no breath, a feat which was a rarity. He understood her and accepted her, never questioning, never expecting anything more than what she gave. He was her favorite companion, always there when she needed him and armed with the exact right thing to say. But it was more than that too, though she couldn’t be sure what more was, only that the prospect excited and disquieted her.

Artemis dragged the buck around the rock face to the clearing where their camp bustled in the dark. She easily spotted Orion, the giant, where he sat near the fire. His height was double hers, and she never liked being so much smaller than him, so when they were together, she would take on a larger form, though she never cared to hunt at that size. So ungainly, too difficult to stay silent. As soon as she saw him, she shifted to her giant form and looked across the camp with a smile.

Sirius, Orion’s dog, stood tall and lean and trotted over to her, snuffing her hand with her long nose. Artemis scratched the dog’s ear and looked back to Orion.

He sat with his back against a massive olive tree and his feet up near the fire. His hands were folded behind his blond head, and his smile was brighter than the stars, the type of smile that told her she’d likely lost. She felt herself flush and was unsure if it was due to the loss of their game or her nearness to him.