Curses of Olympus (The Olympus Trilogy #2)

19. Medusa

19

MEDUSA

H estia, Psyche, and Dionysus rush forward to help Hera, while Cadmus and Alec keep their attention on the spider, swords drawn.

Medusa watches the spider carefully, taking in the stunningly beautiful creature. Its white exterior looks almost a bluish purple in the shadows as it cowers, shrinking into itself and backing away. Its arachnid eyes dart between the people, an escape, and Hera, lingering on the latter.

Is the spider… protecting Hera?

Hera cries out as Hestia gingerly wraps a piece of cloth around the gash in her arm. Alec and Cadmus turn back to the spider and move closer, as if the sound of Hera’s pain makes them want something or someone to lash out at and blame.

The spider’s gaze is fixated on Cadmus, the current source of Hera’s suffering. He raises his sword at the creature as the tension mounts.

The spider backs away from Alec and Cadmus until it hits a stone wall. With nowhere to go, the spider skitters forward and sinks a fang into Cadmus’s thigh. He grunts in pain, and Psyche is by his side in an instant assessing his wound.

No. This isn’t right. She is only protecting herself and Hera.

Alec pulls his sword back as if he means to strike the creature, and Medusa steps in front of him.

“What the Fates do you think you’re doing? Move,” Alec says, anger swimming in his eyes as a muscle works in his jaw.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” Medusa asks angrily. “We don’t even know the full story about what is happening here, and you are going to kill this creature?”

Alec gives Medusa an incredulous look. “Don’t you see what happened to Hera? To Cadmus? That thing is dangerous.”

From behind them, Hera calls out, “That dangerous thing is my friend. If any harm comes to her at your hands, I promise it will be the last thing those hands ever do. You will go to Tartarus without them, and I will mount them over my mantle like a trophy.”

A stunned silence falls over the group, and Medusa turns to Alec. “I thought you of all people would know better than to judge based on appearances. I thought better of you, Uncle.”

When finished with the bandage, Psyche walks over to the spider and whispers. After a moment and some more hushed words from her, the goddess places her hand on the spider’s head and closes her eyes. Wind gusts roll in as Psyche’s hand glows, reflecting in the creature’s multiple eyes. The light builds until it is blinding, and Medusa is forced to look away, using her arm to shield her vision.

Once it subsides and Medusa uncovers her eyes, a naked woman lies on the ground in the spider’s place. She is pale and skinny, with long white hair that falls down to her mid-thigh. As the group watches in a stunned silence, Cyril pulls off his cloak and gently drapes it over her.

Medusa stands there, frozen. Jealousy claws at her soul as she stares at the woman.

Why didn’t that work when Psyche did it for me? This curse is so tied to the fabric of my being that even Psyche’s magic is no match.

Hera falls to her knees next to the woman. “Arachne, are you alright?”

At Hera’s voice, the woman lifts her head and smiles at the goddess. “Quite well, goddess. Look!” She holds out her arms, stretching and wiggling her fingers.

Bringing her into a deep hug, Hera says, “I’m so glad.” She looks up at the group of mostly strangers staring in shock and waves. “Hi. Welcome to Corcyra.”