Phineus and Jim lay side by side on the forest floor, concealed beneath a layer of shrubbery in Bogart Forest. The patch of dense woodland was more open than the rest, with a small clearing about fifty yards ahead. Sunlight made a cloudless sky shine, and the distant melody of birdsong drifted through the trees. In the clearing, a large black boar and two smaller hogs grazed peacefully, unaware of the hidden hunters.

  Peering through his binoculars, Jim whispered, "There are three of them—one big one, two smaller ones."

  "You think we can take them all?" Phineus asked, his eye pressed to the scope of his hunting rifle.

  "Nope. Best we can do is two. The third's gonna bolt as soon as we drop the others. We need to shoot them both simultaneously. Aim for the heart—just behind the front leg. If you're a little off, you might still clip the lung."

  Phineus gave a slight nod and steadied his aim on the largest boar, a dark brown male about the size of a travel trunk. Jim lowered his binoculars and quietly swung his own rifle into position. The pair remained motionless, eyes locked on their targets.

  "I'll take the black and white one," Jim said, peering through his scope.

  "You sure these weapons can kill them from this far?" Phineus asked.

  "Yeah. They can bag 'em from twice this distance—maybe even four times."

  "Incredible. Let me know when," Phineus said, holding his breath.

  "On three. One, two... three!"

  Both rifles cracked simultaneously, the sharp sound echoing through the trees. The third boar bolted, crashing into the underbrush. The other two dropped instantly, legs twitching.

  "Got 'em. Nice shot, Phineus!" Jim cheered.

  "You did well yourself, Jim." Phineus replied. He stood, brushing the leaves and dirt off his clothes.

  The two headed to collect their catch, striding over to the lifeless boars. Phineus hefted both carcasses off the grass and slung them over his broad shoulders. He handed Jim his rifle.

  "You can carry both of them?" Jim raised an eyebrow.

  Phineus smirked. "Easy. These two will keep our bellies full for days."

  They began hiking back toward the Humvee parked in the distance, sparking up a conversation as they walked.

  "I'm glad you came hunting with me," Phineus said. "Means a lot, it does."

  Jim nodded. "Looks like you enjoy it. Did you do this a lot before?"

  Phineus hesitated, his confident air dimming. "Yeah, I certainly did... till—" He cut himself off.

  "Is that why?" Jim asked gently.

  Phineus exhaled through his nose. "Yes. Exactly why." His grip tightened around the boars. "That's what I like about you lot. You not only allow hunting—you encourage it. You gave me this fine rifle and even showed me how to use it proper."

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  "Hunting?" Jim asked, confused.

  "Yes, I love hunting. The thrill, the chase—I live for it." His eyes gleamed with excitement, but there was something else beneath the surface. Something darker.

  Jim studied him. "You weren't always able to do this?"

  "Oh, I could, sure enough," Phineus muttered, a bitter edge to his voice. "Till he got involved."

  "Who?"

  "Almighty Zeus," Phineus spat, like the name left a bad taste. "Didn't like what I was doing, so he cursed me—just like that."

  Jim frowned. "You didn't get any kind of warning?"

  "Warning? Ha!" Phineus barked a humorless laugh. "No words, no rules. Just shows up one day, works his godly tricks, and poof—I'm not myself anymore. Then off he goes, like it was nothing."

  Jim folded his arms. "Sounds like there's more to the story."

  Phineus sighed. "He was very fond of those goats."

  Jim's eyes widened. "Wait—you were killing his goats?"

  "I was starving, all right?!" Phineus snapped. "What was I supposed to do?"

  Jim chuckled despite himself. "I don't know... maybe hunt somewhere else?"

  Phineus huffed. "Sure. If someone'd told me where I could or couldn't hunt! But no one did. The beasts were just there, roaming like any other. No marks, no signs. How was I to know they belonged to a god?"

  Jim considered this. As one-sided as the story sounded, it didn't sound too unreasonable. "Yeah... when you put it that way, it doesn't seem fair."

  "Exactly!" Phineus said, nodding emphatically. "Now you see it! How'd you feel, eh, if someone came down on you for something you did long ago—and you didn't even know it was wrong?"

  Jim didn't answer. He just gave a slow, understanding nod.

  "That's why I hate him," Phineus muttered. "That's why, if you ever decide to charge up Mount Olympus, I'll be the first to volunteer."

  Jim exhaled slowly. If someone had turned him into a beast without a fair trial, he'd be furious too. "Yeah... I get it now."

  "But enough about the damn gods," Phineus said, shifting the conversation. He pushed through the last line of trees, branches snapping after him. Their Humvee waited just beyond, parked in the tall grass. "How about you? How are things with... Medusa?"

  Jim emerged from the trees behind him. "Pretty good. I just worry about her a lot."

  Phineus kept pace, triumphantly bouncing the boars on his shoulder. "Oh? You taking an interest to her?"

  Jim hesitated before answering, reaching for the driver's door handle. "Yeah, I think so."

  "You don't sound too sure," Phineus noted, moving to the rear of the Humvee. He swung the boars off his shoulder and tossed them into the back with a heavy thud.

  "It's not that I'm unsure," Jim said, climbing into the driver's seat. "It's just... I see something in her that others might not. To me, she's wonderful, smart, and beautiful."

  Phineus dusted off his hands and circled around to the passenger side, pulling the door open. "Well, nobody's opinion matters but yours. Look at Andromeda and me. Couldn't tell you what she sees in me—but I'm glad there's something there."

  "Yeah, I see that," Jim said, becoming lost in thought.

  Phineus settled into the passenger seat. "What worries you exactly?"

  "Her safety." It felt like yesterday they walked out of that cave, and things were getting more dangerous by the day. And now, after everything they've been through...

  "You need to stop fretting so much!" Phineus exclaimed. "Just imagine if she were still back in that cave—or worse, dead. She's here by choice, and I don't see her eager to leave."

  Jim frowned. "Yeah... I didn't think of it that way."

  Phineus sighed, "You spend all your time thinking about what might go wrong. Ever stop to count what's gone right? All the great things you've done? Like what you did for us?"

  Jim paused, hand hovering over the ignition, and glanced at Phineus. "I guess I haven't. But you're right." He turned the key, and the engine rumbled to life, with it, his expression brightening.

  Phineus smirked. "You've done so much good for so many. And Medusa... she's a warrior now—just like she always wanted."

  Jim shifted into gear, and the Humvee pulled forward. "Speaking of which, how are you two getting along?"

  Phineus chuckled. "Great. I love working with the soldiers—combat training, drills, sparring. It's fun." He grinned. "And Andromeda? She's all about the clothes, jewelry, and—"

  "Shoes," Jim finished dryly, steering them out of the clearing.

  Phineus laughed. "Exactly."

  Jim shook his head with a small smile as they bounced over the uneven ground. "Some things never change."