"Diomedes!!"
Reyna's voice tore through the storm, sharper than the wind. I reached for her—but I couldn't move. The gusts wrapped around me like chains, dragging me backward off the dock. My feet never even touched the water.
The world tilted.
Rain slammed into my face. The salt stung my eyes. Wind roared in my ears, so loud it drowned everything else—except her. I could still hear Reyna, still see her fighting to reach me, held back by Ganymede's grip.
Circe raised her hand and I was ripped from the dock. The air turned solid. The sea opened beneath me, waves black and heaving. The last thing I saw before it swallowed me whole was Reyna's face—furious and scared.
Then cold.
Waves hit me like fists. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The sky disappeared behind a wall of black waves.
I was barely conscious for another second.
I don't know how long I was out. Hours? Minutes? Days?
I awoke somewhere, surrounded by sand. From what I saw the place was almost completely deserted. I couldn't look around and check as I immediately started throwing up water.
It felt like my eyes were going to pop out my head, the salty bile rising as I wretched onto the sand.
I was like that for another four minutes.
When finished I flopped on the untainted sand bed, looking up at the sky.
It was still storming, the sky full of thunderous clouds.
"Where am I?" I rasped.
No one answered. All I got in return was the squawk of a bird.
I followed the squawking and saw up on an umbrella was grey bird with striking yellow eyes and a striped chest.
It blinked at me.
Once. Twice. Like it had been waiting.
I pushed myself upright—slowly. Everything hurt. My ribs, my throat, even the skin on my fingers felt scraped raw. My clothes clung to me, heavy with seawater and sand. Breathing tasted like rust.
The bird squawked again. Harsher this time, like it was annoyed I hadn't moved yet.
"Yeah," I croaked. "Give me a minute."
The beach around me was empty. Miles of pale sand, broken only by some umbrellas, plastic chairs, and the occasional washed-up soda bottle. The buildings just beyond the dunes looked strange —familiar. Like something I'd seen in a photograph.
The grey bird fluttered down from the umbrella and landed a few feet away. It cocked its head at me, then took a few steps forward. Almost like it wanted me to follow.
I stared at it. "You serious?"
It squawked again. Louder this time. Then flapped once, turning toward the boardwalk.
"Fine," I muttered, dragging myself up.
Each step felt like wading through molasses. My limbs were too heavy, my thoughts too slow. But I followed anyway, partly because I didn't have another plan—and partly because, honestly, the bird was the only thing I recognized.
Signs hung crookedly on the buildings ahead—faded, some rusted. I tried reading one, but the letters twisted and danced like psychedelia. I blinked hard, trying to focus.
Still nothing. Just shapes and confusion.
I rubbed my temples. "Come on..."
"You lost, kid?"
I spun. A woman was standing beside one of the hot dog stands, holding a baby as a second woman ordered hot dog buns and eyed me like I'd washed up from Mars. Which... wasn't that far off.
"I..." My throat rasped. "Where is this?"
The woman with the baby squinted at me. "You hit your head or something?"
I didn't answer.
"This is Jersey Shore," she said, like it should be obvious. "New Jersey."
New Jersey.
I almost laughed. Circe threw me into a hurricane and I ended up in New Jersey.
The woman frowned. "You okay?"
Behind her, the grey bird landed on a railing, watching me again with those sharp yellow eyes.
I coughed, "yes ma'am."
She didn't look convinced, nor did her friend as she walked over with her hot dog buns —literally only the buns, no sausage. She had a flask in her purse, smelling of wine.
"Abeona," the lady with the flask said to the woman with the baby. "The kids got to get home to his parents soon."
The baby lady —Abeona— turned to the flask woman, "I know Adeona, I'm just checking in on this kid."
Adeona took a swig of her flask, "another demigod?"
Abeona nodded, "I think so. He smells weird though, kinda like pomegranates and lotus."
Lotus? Do I really still smell like lotus? I haven't eaten a lotus flower in years. Shouldn't I reek of sea water?
Wait did she call me a demigod?
Adeona groaned, "I miss lotus flowers so much, I wish they'd return to that island in the Mediterranean."
Abeona laughed at Adeona's dismay, "you have to be more adventurous little sister. They have a hotel close to the underworld."
"But that's so far from home," Adeona groaned.
"Im sorry," I said, interrupting the two. "You called me a demigod ... are you two... ya know."
"Goddesses?" Abeona asked, a sly smile on her face. Her eyes were filled with a mischievous glimmer, like the eyes of those dolphins I met when I was five.
Adeona nudged Abeona, "don't scare the kid. He's just a baby."
I pouted. I know, I'm too okay for that. But the last —unknown amount of time— was starting to weigh down on me. I was cold, wet, and lost; talking to two possible Goddesses after a goddess threw me into the sea because I was somehow related to a dangerous woman who I don't know.
"I'm ten, not a baby."
Adeona giggled, knocking back another swig of her flask. "Kid, to us you're nothing more than an infant that can talk."
I stared at her, slack-jawed. "I'm ten," I repeated, like maybe she hadn't heard me. Like that was supposed to mean something.
Adeona cackled, wiping the corner of her mouth with her sleeve. "Ten! That's barely out of the womb for our kind."
Abeona gave me a gentler look, tilting her head like she was inspecting me. Not just looking at me—reading me. "You're not from around here, are you?"
I hesitated. "Depends on what you mean by 'here.'"
That made Adeona bark another laugh. "Gods, he's polite. So formal. I love it when they're still in shock."
"Circe threw me into the ocean," I said, trying to hold my voice steady. "That was... yesterday? Maybe? I don't know. I woke up here. The signs don't make sense. Everything smells like fried oil and seaweed. And now you're telling me I'm a baby?"
Abeona's face softened, almost like a mother's would—if I remembered what that felt like. "You've had your first lone departure. That's always hard."
"My what?"
"Lone departure ," she said. "You've left a place truly on your own without anyone else to verbally guide you. You left home. Not just physically. Spiritually. Circe cutting you loose like that... brutal, but effective. You've stepped into the world now. You don't go back from this."
"Yeah," Adeona chimed in, "you got pushed off the dock and dropped into your first chapter. It's kind of poetic."
"Poetic?!" I snapped. "She nearly drowned me!"
"Still poetic," Adeona shrugged. "Also traumatic. But those things usually hang out together."
I rubbed my eyes. My skin felt tight with salt, my throat raw. The bird—still perched on the railing—watched me without blinking. It gave a low, rolling sound in its throat. Almost a purr.
"You said you're goddesses," I said slowly, looking between them. "Which ones?"
"Abeona," said the one with the baby. She gave a little nod. "I walk with those who are leaving. I guard first steps—first journeys. Children setting out into the world. Like you just did."
Adeona grinned, swinging her flask in lazy circles. "And I make sure they find their way back. I'm the one waiting at the door. Or the grave. Depends on the journey."
There was a beat of silence. Wind rustled the empty chip bags along the boardwalk. Somewhere in the distance, a seagull screamed like it had been wronged.
"...You're serious."
Abeona smiled faintly. "As serious as birth."
Adeona raised her flask. "And death."
"Great," I muttered. "So I'm either at the beginning or the end."
Abeona gave a light shrug. "Or both. You're a demigod. Those are never so easy to separate."
"Why are you even here?" I asked. "In New Jersey?"
Adeona wrinkled her nose. "Honestly? I hate it here. But the mortal world's shifting. Boundaries are thinner lately. So we walk where we're needed."
"And you," Abeona said, pointing a finger gently at my chest, "were very much needed."
I didn't answer. My stomach felt hollow. Not just from hunger—though that was part of it—but from the weight of everything crashing down. Circe. Reyna. Being called dangerous. Being thrown away.
"You'll have a choice soon," Abeona added, voice low and serious. "A real one. And you won't be able to go back once it's made."
"Not without me, anyway," Adeona said with a wink.
I opened my mouth to ask more, but before I could—
The bird let out a sudden, sharp cry. Its wings flared wide. It flew straight to me, landing hard on my shoulder.
The goddesses both tensed.
Abeona's eyes narrowed. "It's starting."
"Already?" Adeona groaned. "I didn't even finish my drink."
I blinked. "What's starting?"
Abeona didn't answer. She stepped back, cradling the baby tighter. Adeona gave me a mock-salute, but there was steel behind her grin.
"Try not to die, infant," she said. "We hate when they don't make it past the first page, oh and look out for the blonde one with the scar, he bites."
Then—just like that—they were gone.
The wind began to pick up, thundering across the sky as a lightning struck a large shack near the docks.
The building exploded into shrapnel, if anyone were inside they were either dead or gravely injured.
The bird on my shoulder dug in its talons, squawking at me and pulling on my tattered chiton. Adamant for me to go in the other direction.
Obviously, I listened. As five seconds later the monstrous roar of some sort of horned beast came from the smoking shack.
I couldn't fight it, not when it was two stories tall.
I began booking it down the road. If only the winds weren't so strong, I could fly away from whatever that thing was.
But I couldn't. My feet were lead. The rain felt like knives. And behind me—
Another roar. Closer this time. So loud it rattled my spine.
The bird screamed on my shoulder, flapping its wings like it was trying to push me faster. My bare feet slapped the soaked pavement as I weaved between crumbling buildings and flickering street lamps. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized I was crying—but not out of fear.
Out of frustration.
"I just got here!" I shouted at the sky. "Give me five minutes!"
The ground shook behind me, and something massive snorted through the storm.
I risked a glance back.
It stepped out of the smoke like a nightmare—massive, hulking, and white. Not just pale—blinding, gleaming white. Fur that shimmered even in the stormlight. Horns like ivory spears, twisted and polished to razor points. And eyes like burning gold. It looked like something out of an ancient mosaic—except alive, and very angry.
The monster stomped once, and the street cracked beneath its hooves.
"Not good," I breathed.
It charged.
The air seemed to ripple around it, like even reality was getting out of the way. Thunder cracked again, but I barely heard it over the sound of its pounding hooves and my own blood screaming in my ears.
I turned a sharp corner, nearly wiping out on a slick patch of oil. My shoulder slammed into a box on a stick, papers launching out of it.
I kept running.
The bird dug in again, squawking furiously.
"I get it!" I snapped. "Go left, right, die horribly—I'm on it!"
I dodged into a narrow alley between two weird places that said aPap hoJn and nomiDoes. The walls were close, barely wider than my wingspan. The beast wouldn't fit, I hoped.
Wrong.
The bull didn't care. It crashed into the alley wall like a wrecking ball, bricks raining down behind me. The whole building groaned, like it was about to come down.
"Who sends a bull after a ten-year-old?!"
I spotted a fire escape ahead, its ladder hanging just out of reach. I leapt, scraping my hands raw on the metal—but I caught it. I pulled myself up as the bull snorted again, pacing at the alley mouth like a predator that knew I wouldn't get far.
The fire escape shuddered beneath my weight. Every part of me screamed in protest. My hands, my lungs, my legs. But I climbed. Higher and higher.
The roofs weren't much safer. Just more flat wet surfaces and unstable air.
I crossed three rooftops before I made a mistake.
My foot hit moss. Slipped. I hit the roof hard—wind knocked out of me.
And then the bull jumped.
The thing leapt. Up. From the ground. Onto the rooftop.
I scrambled backward. "That's illegal! You're not supposed to jump!"
It lowered its head. Snorted. Steam curled from its nostrils.
Then it charged again.
"Nononononono—"
I dove behind an old air conditioning unit as the bull plowed through the corner of the roof like it was paper. Lightning flashed again, and I saw its face. Not mindless. Angry. Sentient. It knew what it was doing.
And it wanted me.
"Why?" I panted. "What did I do?!"
No answer. Just another snort and a scrape of hoof on gravel.
The bird pecked me once on the shoulder. Not hard—more like an insistent Go.
I didn't think. I just ran again. Off the edge of the roof.
I fell.
The bull didn't follow this time. It watched.
Which was almost worse.
I landed in a dumpster, the smell nearly knocking me unconscious. I tumbled out, gagging, and took off again. My legs were jelly, my breath ragged, but I kept going.
I ran until the streets blurred and the storm faded.
I didn't stop until I found a drainage tunnel and collapsed inside, shivering and covered in muck.
The bird landed beside me, finally quiet. Its feathers ruffled, eyes still alert.
"Thanks," I croaked.
It blinked.
Outside, the thunder rolled. Distant now. But not gone.
I couldn't stay still for long, that bull thing ran through literal buildings to get me, who knows what else it's willing to do?
I looked down the tunnel, listening for any strange or uncommon sounds. The dark swallowed the end of the tunnel like a mouth. Every few feet, the flicker of lightning flashed through a grate above, casting fractured light across the damp concrete. Shadows moved where nothing should've moved. Water trickled somewhere up ahead, too steady to be threatening—but I still didn't trust it.
The bird didn't either. It shifted beside me, feathers fluffed out, head cocked toward the dark like it expected something to come crawling out of it.
I pushed off the wall, wincing as my body protested. I wasn't sure how many bruises I had, but I was guessing "too many." I took a shaky step forward, one hand trailing along the tunnel wall for balance.
Each step echoed.
I passed a rusted ladder leading up to a manhole cover. I paused under it, staring up. The thought of fresh air tempted me, but I'd seen what was up there.
Ivory horns.
Golden eyes.
I kept walking.
The tunnel stretched on like the throat of some giant beast—wet, tight, and endless. Every few feet, the air changed: warmer, then cold again; metallic, then thick with mildew. I don't know what I expected to find in here. A way out? A miracle? Maybe just a second to breathe without the world trying to crush me.
My steps were soft—too soft. I hated how they sounded, like I was sneaking through a place I didn't belong. The walls wept old water. Pipes hissed overhead. Everything felt watched.
The bird—still with me, somehow—hopped onto my shoulder again. Its talons were lighter than I expected, but I still flinched.
"You're not going to leave me, are you?" I whispered.
It tilted its head, and for half a second, I could've sworn it looked... proud. Not of me, exactly. Just... that I was still moving.
"Yeah, well," I muttered, "walking's all I've got."
Time got weird in the dark. I didn't know how long I walked—minutes, hours? My thoughts spiraled the whole time. What was that monster? Why was it after me? What had Circe meant by "dangerous woman"? And why did those goddesses talk to me like I was important?
I wasn't.
I'm just—me.
Just a half-formed not-quite-kid who doesn't even know who his godly parent is. Who gets thrown into oceans and chased by mythic death cows and smells like lotus and pomegranate and whatever else makes people raise their eyebrows at me.
I didn't notice I was crying until the tears hit my lip—warm, salty, and pointless.
The bird nudged my jaw gently. I didn't even have the energy to tell it to stop.
Then I heard it.
Footsteps.
Light ones. Measured. Confident. Not like mine.
I froze. So did the bird.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then—
Twang.
Something hit the wall just ahead of me with a sharp, precise thunk.
I staggered back. My heart nearly exploded out of my chest. I stared at the arrow lodged in the concrete wall, its white fletching slick with tunnel condensation.
"Whoa!" I yelped. "Not the bull!"
Silence.
Then—a voice. Sharp. Cool. And somehow... older than it sounded.
"You're not. But you smell like it..."
I turned, slowly.
She stepped out of the shadow like she'd always been there, like the tunnel had waited for her to arrive.
She was tall for a girl, with lean muscle under her silver hunting jacket. Her ginger hair was pulled back into a braided ponytail, the sides shaved.
Her eyes were pale green and unreadable. And she was pointing another arrow at me.
"I'm not a monster," I said, hands raised.
Her bow didn't lower. "Name."
"Diomedes."
"Parentage?"
"Parentage?"
"Who's your godly parent?"
"Unknown."
She stared. Bow still drawn. "You said something about a bull? White fur. Golden eyes. Like a storm made solid?"
I nodded, "he chased me halfway across the city— who are you?"
She didn't answer right away. Her eyes narrowed, studying me like she was trying to decide if I was lying—or worse, useless.
Then she exhaled slowly, not lowering the bow. "Phoebe. Hunter of Artemis. I'm tracking that bull."
I blinked. "You're a Hunter?"
She finally eased the string on her bow, letting the arrow drop a fraction. "Yes."
I stared at her—at the silver brooch of the moon pinned to her collar, the way her eyes glinted like metal in the flickering tunnel light, the quiet weight she carried, like she'd lived through a hundred things and didn't flinch anymore.
I took a cautious step forward. "The bull—what is it?"
Phoebe shook her head once, sharp. "Don't know if I can trust you enough to answer that."
I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped.
Fair.
I must've looked like something scraped off a shipwreck, barely standing, soaked to the bone, reeking of seaweed, old flowers, and rotting fruit.
Phoebe looked me over again, "You're alone?"
"Yeah."
"No satyrs?"
"Not sure what that is, but I have a bird." I motioned to my shoulder.
The bird blinked smugly, like it was proud to be the one who hadn't tossed me into to Ocean. Where did it even come from?
"Do you know why the bull is here? Large amounts of food? Something like that, "Phoebe asked.
I looked down at the floor for a moment, it was definitely here for me. "Yeah, lightning struck a shack after I washed up here and talked to some goddesses. Five seconds later it was chasing after me through, and up buildings."
"Do you know why?" Phoebe asked. "Did the goddesses you meet say anything?"
"No." I said, I mean they did, but it wasn't much help so I didn't say it to her.
Phoebe grumbled scratching her chin, "well I need to find it for lady Artemis... how do you feel about being used as bait?"
"... what?"