Curses of Olympus (The Olympus Trilogy #2)

13. Medusa

13

MEDUSA

T he desert landscape mixes with the purple hues of twilight, and three bright stars shining brightly in the sky. Torches protrude from the sandy ground all around them, casting their group in a warm glow.

Everything about the Oasis is calm and inviting, a welcome change from the doldrum of once again being at sea.

It was Cadmus’s idea to work on Medusa’s power, but Psyche wants them to practice in the Oasis where Medusa is less likely to have an emotional spike that would result in an injury for Cadmus.

The light from the flames flickers in his amber eyes, and he gives Medusa a reassuring nod. Her hand trembles as she reaches up to pull down her hood, wishing she could close her eyes. Then she stops.

Medusa looks between Psyche and Cadmus. “There has to be another way.”

Psyche smiles and puts her hand on Medusa’s shoulder. “We have to see if you can learn to control the power of your serpents. Since all curses are tied to the soul, if you work at it, you should be able to master it. I am certain that I can reverse any damage you do to Cadmus in the meantime, especially here in the Oasis.”

Medusa prepares to pull back her hood once again. Please don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him. Snakes, Fates, if any of you can hear me, I do not want to hurt this man. He is not a threat. We are safe.

Repeating those thoughts on a loop, she slowly lets the fabric fall, and her serpents slither around excitedly. Their emotions surge into her, and she sifts through them, trying to detect any that feel panicked or threatened. Most seem happy to be out from under the hood, a rare occurrence these days, but she senses hints of curiosity in a few of them.

Curiosity that is directed towards the man in her presence—a man who is not a statue.

Psyche sucks in a relieved breath, and Cadmus beams a proud smile.

He didn’t turn to stone.

Medusa inhales deeply and closes her eyes.

I did it.

A hand lands on Medusa’s shoulder that she was not expecting and she yelps, her eyes flying open as Cadmus cries out. He grips his arm, grimacing in pain, and Medusa yanks the hood back over her head, serpents going quiet once more.

Psyche rushes to help Cadmus. Medusa gets a glimpse at his injured arm, and her heart stutters to a stop. It is now made of stone.

Just like Castor. I hurt Cadmus. What if I killed him like Polydeuces?

Dropping to the sandy ground, Medusa digs her fingers in the sand, wishing she could feel it to help distract her from the thoughts that are threatening to drown her. She wants to check on Cadmus and make sure he is all right, but her thoughts are so far away, below the depths of the ocean’s surface, stuck in the Sea Temple once more.

I hurt everyone who gets near me. My presence is a threat to every innocent person in Olympus; either by my serpents directly, or through the wrath of the gods that are so desperate to hunt me. The world was so much safer when I stuck to my island.

In the depths of her despair, a budding kernel of anger in Medusa surges. She just hurt someone she cared about, all because of an involuntary reaction based on trauma gifted to her by the gods.

While said gods sit in their temples and use manufactured benevolence to hide the pain they deliver to those too powerless to stop them.

Poseidon did this to me. I will make him pay if it’s the last thing I do. This did not break me.

With her revenge plans slowly forming, Medusa’s focus returns to the Oasis.

And Cadmus, oh no.

The sand is thick beneath Medusa’s feet as she rushes to him. Dread fills Medusa, but to her surprise, Cadmus is completely fine.

Psyche chuckles at Medusa’s shock. “I told you it would be alright.”

There is no malice in Cadmus’s voice when he adds, “I probably shouldn’t have startled you like that. I’m to blame for this accident. Next time, I’ll be more careful.”

“Next time?” Medusa sputters, taking a harrowing step back. “This wasn’t a close enough call for you? You want to risk me killing you instead? You can’t possibly ask that of me.”

Cadmus steps forward and gently holds Medusa’s upper arms. “I think Psyche is right. The serpents are connected to your soul, so if they wanted me dead for panicking you, I would be. Besides, this will help keep you safe. It may not be the most pleasant feeling in the world, but I can tolerate it a million times over with that goal in mind.”

The relief with knowing Cadmus is alright does nothing to diminish the ember of rage that is burning deep down. Poseidon will pay for this curse, and every other atrocity he has thrust upon the people of Olympus.

T he dark of the ship cabin seems endless as she blinks into the void, unable to sleep. On either side of her lie Psyche and Cadmus, creating a slumbering cocoon of comfort.

How different her life is since the time on her island. There are people who genuinely care about her now. Their safety feels like a liability, a burden, but Medusa is selfishly grateful for them.

Psyche stirs but does not wake, nestling into the crook of Medusa’s arm before falling back into the stillness of slumber. Having the goddess beside her after the Sea Temple is something she will never stop thanking the Fates for. She genuinely never thought she would see the goddess again, but every round of torture was that much easier to endure knowing that it prevented Psyche, Cadmus, or Alec from experiencing such hardship.

The thought of Cadmus stirs something in her. This man, despite Medusa’s repeated berating, doubts, even an attempt to kill him, has remained by her side, ready to fight for her. He has been willing to risk his safety and life for her repeatedly. Hasn’t he proven to her that she is safe with him?

Medusa’s eyelids grow heavy as the haziness of sleep finally begins to overtake her, and as she drifts off. Lingering thoughts snag in her mind: the accident in the Oasis today was a fluke, her body is close to being able to show him how safe she feels with him, and the gods will pay for what they have done.