“Little sister!” Apollo called. If his teeth were any whiter he could’ve blinded us without the sun car. “What’s up? You never call. You never write. I was getting worried!” Artemis sighed. “I’m fine, Apollo. And I am not your little sister.” “Hey, I was born first.” “We’re twins! How many millennia do we have to argue—” “So what’s up?” he interrupted. “Got the girls with you, I see. You all need some tips on archery?” Artemis grit her teeth. “I need a favor. I have some hunting to do, alone. I need you to take my companions to Camp Half-Blood.” “Sure, sis!” Then he raised his hands in a stop
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