Curses of Olympus (The Olympus Trilogy #2)

4. Medusa

4

MEDUSA

S hivers rack her body, and the thin shift she has to wear does nothing to protect Medusa from the cold. She is still damp from her last session with the Twins, and she will never doubt the tales of their cruelty again. Their closeness to Poseidon is the only evidence anyone needs to condemn the actions of Castor and Polydeuces, but the brothers are allowed to use Sea Temple prisoners as their own playground.

Medusa’s chest tightens as she recalls the way the water felt as it rushed into her airways. She was pretty sure they wouldn’t kill her, but when confronted with the reality of the drowning sensation, she wasn’t as certain. Her lungs and throat still burn from the sting of the sea water and her desperate gasps for breath.

She rolls over on the stone slab, avoiding the side with the bruised hip, wishing they had not removed the pathetic excuse for a mattress. Anything to make her more miserable, right?

Medusa closes her eyes, clenching them tightly as she tries to imagine the warm pools on her island. She pictures herself sliding into the hot water, inch by inch as it soothes her frozen body. When she opens them again, she feels slightly warmer, and the sharp edge of the glacial pain has dulled.

The door opens, and Echo comes in, but this time, there’s no tray of food. She looks terrified. Is Medusa going to have to reassure her all over again? Poseidon steps through behind the nymph. Ah, that’s who she’s afraid of.

His dark blue cloak swirls at his feet, and the lapis stone walls casts his mahogany skin in an a harsh light.

Medusa sits up, swinging her feet over the side of the concrete slab onto the frigid floor.

This shall not break me.

She locks eyes with his deep brown ones, refusing to appear weak. She will never give him that.

He unclasps his deep blue cloak, and Medusa tenses. He hasn’t tried to force himself on her again, not since the garden. He wouldn’t do it now, with Echo in the room, would he? Her serpents thrash beneath the hood, their chaotic essence fueled by Medusa’s fear. If only they worked on him. Between that, the restraints at times, and their use of Echo as a shield, she doubts she will be able to use this one cursed weapon as a defense.

He reaches out and tries to hand the cloak to her. When she doesn’t take it, he leans in and drapes it over her shoulders. The smell of briny seawater and spirits hits her, and she’s immediately back in the garden. Her body goes rigid, and she sits still as a stone, as if she too was a victim of her serpents.

After a moment of silence, he says to her, “You know it doesn’t have to be this way.”

She rasps, “Yes, it does.”

“I’m a patient man.”

Medusa laughs bitterly in response, and his nostrils flare in a rage.

“But,” he continues, “that patience is wearing thin.”

“I will never agree to your offer. I would rather die than bed you.”

“Then soon, I will have no use for you.”

He turns and leaves, dragging Echo by the arm as he departs.

The cloak is warm, but the smell of him makes her stomach turn. She throws it onto the floor and lays back down, curling up into a ball.

And for the first time since being brought here, she cries.

Tears fall for the rebels, for the nymphs, for the ache in her heart when she thinks about Psyche, and even Cadmus. She cries for her family and what they’ve been put through, but she also weeps just for herself.

Her emotions are crushing, as if gravity is pulling the weight of the universe down upon her. This world is brutal and oppressive. Would to be so bad if she wasn’t in it anymore? Would the souls that were removed from this world at her hand be waiting for her in Tartarus?

Or would she be in Purgatory? Definitely not the Elysian Fields.

She is still lying there, debating the fate of her soul, when Castor and Polydeuces come through the door. Have the Twins arrived to finish the job?

Their short blond hair looks green in this environment and the stony handsomeness of their faces does little to hide the monstrosities lurking within.

Castor motions to Medusa. “Let’s go.”

He doesn’t have to say where. She knows they’re going back to the room . Fear courses through her veins, but there’s no point fighting. It’ll just get Echo hurt. Wait, where is Echo?

She leans around Castor but only sees Polydeuces standing at the door. A million thoughts race frantically through her mind.

Should she try and escape? Use her hood?

“I said let’s go.” Castor walks up and runs his hand along her neck before buckling a collar around it. The long chain of the leash clinks against itself as the cool metal slides across her skin.

He yanks on it to pull her forward, but she doesn’t move. She’s done with this.

Fed up, Castor grabs her by the throat and forces her back into a wall. She sees stars as her head connects with the solid mass. Her vision tunnels as his grip chokes her, but she can see Polydeuces still at the door, smirking and enjoying the show.

Her serpents hiss and slither under her hood. They get restless when she’s in danger, but Psyche’s magic continues to keep them at bay.

Castor’s other hand lands on her hip, and Medusa swats it away with what little strength she has remaining. A blinding pain explodes on the side of her face before she can process that he slapped her.

Through her blurry vision, and lack of oxygen, she remembers Poseidon’s last words to her.

Then soon, I will have no use for you.

They might really kill her this time. What’s worse? That, or the violation of her body?

Castor’s hand is returns to where it was. She tries to stop him but no longer has the strength to raise her arm. Panic and desperation scream at her to move, to do something as his touch moves from her waist to her stomach.

When his hand starts to go further down, she croaks out a weak, “No.”

He laughs and leans in, his voice a low whisper. “I’d like to see you stop me.”

The last of her consciousness is fading, and she frantically tries to see a way out of this. She doesn’t have the strength to remove her hood. Maybe if she tries really hard. She musters all her remaining energy but can’t move. It’s hopeless.

Suddenly, Castor cries out and takes a step back, releasing his grip on her.

Her lungs heave as air floods back in and her vision slowly returns. Castor gapes at his hand in horror and Medusa realizes… it’s stone.

One of her serpents slithers back under the hood inconspicuously as Medusa realizes what just happened. They saved her.

Castor screams in pain, and Polydeuces runs over to check on him before turning to Medusa in a rage. Without a moment’s hesitation, she removes her hood and mirrors the smirk Polydeuces had been wearing at her own pain as he turns into a statue.

She turns to do the same to Castor, but he’s stopped crying and is staring at his brother. His twin. She could kill him now. She should. But the door is unguarded and now’s her chance. She slips out the door unnoticed as Castor wails and drops to his knees before the statue of his brother.

His cries bounce off the empty walls of the low-lit hallway, carrying his anguish with them.

How does she get out of here? This wasn’t well thought out. She doesn’t know the layout of the Sea Temple, not to mention how she’s going to breathe once she escapes.

A small voice calls from behind a large urn in a narrow alcove. “Psst.”

Echo’s small face pops out, and she hurriedly waves her over.

Medusa quietly moves in her direction and slips into the nook just as a patrol of guards turns the corner. Castor’s screams have stopped, so they continue along their route.

“Thank you. I don’t want to put you in danger, but can you help me get out of here?” Medusa whispers.

A flurry of emotions cross Echo’s face before a defiant glint sparks in her eyes, and she nods.

Silently, Medusa follows Echo through the labyrinth of hallways that make up the Sea Temple. Echo quickly deviates from the route Medusa spent so much time remembering. Instead of turning left at the top of the steps they go right.

It feels like they are going deeper into the temple, and Medusa has a horrifying thought.

What if Echo is tricking me?

With no option but to trust the nymph, Medusa continues onward. There are so many ostentatious paintings along the way. Each one depicting Poseidon doing something vile.

Echo’s eyes flit to one that makes Medusa’s stomach turn. Poseidon stands on a hilltop. At his feet are piles of nymph bodies while he holds one in the air by her throat.

How can the Fates allow such evil to exist?

And they call me a monster. She shudders.

Medusa is on edge the entire time, anxiously waiting for the temple to go on high alert because of the Twins. Yet it seems Echo knows when every patrol is coming through and exactly where to be to remain out of sight.

Soon, they reach the underwater stables right when the guards are changing shifts, leaving the stalls empty of anyone who might stop her.

As with the hallways, the stable is carved into the same dark blue stone. There are far too many stalls for the surprisingly small space. Medusa leans over the gate of one of them and finds a hippocamp. The lower half of the stall is filled with water, but not enough for the creature to be fully submerged— like they should be.

Echo leads her to a hippocamp named Coral, according to the sign on her stall. Coral is beautiful. Her scales are iridescent blues and greens, and her long tail ends in two elaborate fins, like a siren’s.

Medusa pets Coral’s horse-shaped head, nuzzling her for a moment before climbing into the saddle. She takes the reins and really hopes it’s similar to riding a horse.

Still silent, Echo hands Medusa an air stone pendant and gestures that the stone will allow Medusa to breathe underwater. Medusa is skeptical, but she’d rather die trying to escape than however Poseidon plans to kill her

As Medusa prepares to leave the Sea Temple, she turns to thank Echo and ask the nymph to come with her, but she’s already gone.

Glancing around the stable once more Medusa knows she is running out of time, but that does not stop her from going to each stall and lifting the lever that opens the back door of the paddock, freeing every hippocamp from their enclosures.

Returning to Coral, Medusa climbs up into the saddle as shouts ring out in corridor.

Time’s up.

Medusa prepares for the sensation of drowning, not confident in the stone’s abilities, and clenches with fear as images and feelings from her sessions with the Twins come rushing back.

But the drowning doesn’t come, and Medusa’s breathing begins to even out once she realizes she is in fact not suffocating.

Which direction should she go? Her brows furrow as she peers around the endless water on either side of her.

“I don’t suppose you know how to get me somewhere safe?” she asks Coral, who lets out a whinny that’s muffled by the water and takes off.