“Have I…served thee well?” Zoë whispered. “With great honor,” Artemis said softly. “The finest of my attendants.” Zoë’s face relaxed. “Rest. At last.” “I can try to heal the poison, my brave one.” But in that moment, I knew it wasn’t just the poison that was killing her. It was her father’s final blow. Zoë had known all along that the Oracle’s prophecy was about her: she would die by a parent’s hand. And yet she’d taken the quest anyway.
