Annabeth

The dream that ensued wasn't that simple.

I was walking through a tunnel, and it looked like the hidden passageway underneath Athena's temple.

But instead of wandering down it, I felt like I had a purpose, rather than just exploring.

I kept on walking, and soon enough, I saw the end of the tunnel. I was surprised— I have never seen the end of the tunnel, because it got dark after ten feet ahead, so it looked endless. And kind of scary.

But this time I saw the end, and it was a door with light coming through the bottom seal.I walked up to it, pressing my ear to the door to see if I could hear anything.

Nothing. It was all silent. I checked the doorknob—unlocked.

I took a deep breath and turned the knob.

I swung the door open and . . . saw nothing. It was all pitch black.

"Annabeth!" I heard someone call my name. I looked around, but it was impossible to see anything in this darkness.

"You need to wake up. Please wake up." Something pulled me out of the black room, and back through the tunnel. It got really bright, and I closed my eyes to shield them from the light.

When I opened them up again, I was gazing at my ceiling.

I was in my bed.

I laid there for a moment, then I wiggled my head, just to see if I could move it. No matter how stupid that sounds, you should always check to see if you can move yourself.

I could move my head. I looked over and almost immediately shut my eyes and looked away. I had looked straight out to my deck, and apparently it was the end of the day, because the sun was right there in my eyes.

Blinking a few times, I tried to dissolve the big yellow spot in my eyesight. After it had mostly gone away, I looked back, this time squinting.

But I didn't have to squint, for there was now something blocking the sun. I recognized the "thing" as Artemis. She was dozing in a chair next to my bed, and had apparently shifted in her sleep, blocking the sun from me. I felt happy now that the sun wasn't in my eyes.

But wait. Why was I even in my bed?

Memories of what had happened came flooding into my brain—a hurricane of frantic thoughts and worries.

I tried to think, tried to find a sensible thought in my racing brain. What had happened? Athena had run for me, the nymphs were screaming, the group of guys were restraining that one guy . . . that one guy. He was holding a crossbow.

Had he shot me? Was that the pressure I had felt? Was that why there had been so much pain? What about the warm water running down my back? Or was that . . . blood? My blood.

The thought made me dizzy, and I attempted to swallow, finding my throat to be dry. I tried to sit up, but instantly fell back onto my pillow with a soft cry of anguish.

Tears sprang to my eyes and the throbbing pain in my back right below the shoulder blade was intensifying. I lay still for a minute, waiting to see if it would go away. It didn't quite go away, but it did reduce to a small throb.

I tried to move again. The pounding rose a little, as if agitated, but it wasn't as bad as last time. I sat up.

Slowly, I pushed off my covers to realize that I didn't have a shirt on. But you could see nothing, for there was a bandage that wound around my left should and around my back, coming around my chest and redoing that path a few times. I touched the band gingerly, then tried standing up.

I grabbed my bed post to steady myself, then took a tentative step towards my dresser. Nothing happened, so I took another step.

Soon I made it to my dresser and pulled out one of my linen cream shirts. I carefully pulled it on over my grey pants, making my way to my bathroom and standing at the sink. Grabbing a glass, I filled it with water.

The water was welcomed to my dry throat enthusiastically. I soon finished that glass, and drank another one after that. When I was done, I trudged to my deck, anxious for some fresh air. I took a deep breath once outside, enjoying the sweet ocean air, the waves listlessly approaching and receding the beach.

"Well, you should've woken me," said a drowsy voice from behind me.

I turned around. "You looked like you were tired."

Artemis sent a small smile directed towards me, and I grinned back as she joined me at the railing,

"How do you feel?"

"Better now that I have gotten some water and fresh air. All I need is some food and I'll be good as new!" I replied.

Then I decided to bring up what was on my mind. "What happened, Art?" I asked curiously.

She sighed. For a moment she looked at the sunset, then looked at me, "Do you remember anything of that morning?"

"Well, I remember everything until I felt . . . something on my back. A crying nymph caught me, and the last thing I remember was seeing my mom rushing towards me and some people restraining a man dressed in black."

"Yes, that all happened. I guess I should tell you. You were assassinated."

I looked at her in shock. What? "What do you mean 'assassinated?' I'm still alive! Who did it? Where is he? Why would he want to assassinate somebody? Why would he want to assassinate me? Why-"

"Woah there! Hold up on the questions! I can only answer on at a time! And he attempted to assassinate you, but he failed."

I sighed impatiently, "Okay, then, first question: Who?"

Artemis' answer only got me more frustrated. "We know it was a male, with brown hair, a brown eye, and an eyepatch on the other eye, but he won't tell us anything. Athena's considering torture—"

"No! I don't care if he was my would-be assassinator. I won't have anyone tortured because of me," I said firmly.

"Some people deserve it, Annabeth. He did try to kill you. Athena is extremely mad that someone would try to assassinate her daughter, and she is determined it was Poseidon. Her reasoning is that he was the one who murdered your father, so moving onto the daughter isn't that far away. But it still doesn't sound like Poseidon."

I didn't think it was Poseidon. After all, he had been very nice to me. Unless he was playing the fake "nice" person act to just get to know me and what I do, then kill me . . . but it was still a doubtful thought in my mind.

Artemis continued. "Athena has called a council between the gods to figure it all out. Your assassinator will go, and he will be charged with an attempted murder. And—I'm sure you don't want to—but you have to come. You were the victim."

I sighed. Well, this'll be great.

A happy council between a happy family of gods and goddesses who want nothing more than to give each other hugs and flowers.

Right.