Curses of Olympus (The Olympus Trilogy #2)

46. Medusa

46

MEDUSA

T he warm sun is a welcome relief from the cold water as Medusa and the hippocamp splash to the surface. Guilt tugs at her over going against the wishes of Psyche and Cadmus, but rage and newfound power course through her veins with one purpose—to make Poseidon pay for everything he has done to her.

As she climbs onto the rocks of the small island, she leans down to the hippocamp, scratching the underside of her chin, and says, “Go tell him where to find me.”

Sea mist stings Medusa’s eyes as she watches the hippocamp disappear below the surface of the water.

Turning, she makes her way to a large flat rock and lays down, letting the warm rays of the sun dry her damp skin and clothing. She is uncertain how long it will take for him to reach her, so Medusa gets comfortable to prepare for the wait.

Her serpents slither happily in the sunshine, grateful to no longer be confined to the hood; Medusa did not even bring it with her.

She will have to tell the others about her new powers, but in the wake of fully gaining control over her serpents, the only though she could think of was her revenge. Medusa does not know what this strength and new abilities mean, but one thing is clear—there is more to her story than she has been told.

Will she ever truly know her past? Her history? Or will it merely be one lie after another? Do the people telling the lies even know that they are lies? Questions swirl in her mind like a cyclone.

Her eyelids are drooping and heavy as she watches the seagulls flying overhead, and she is close to nodding off when she hears a ship approaching. Jerking up to a sitting position, Medusa puts her hand over her eyes to block the sun as she scans the vast sea before her.

Her serpents hiss when she spots a small ship on the horizon. She smirks at his arrogance.

He assumed I will not be much trouble and did not bring his Legion as backup.

As the ship nears, Medusa sees the meager crew covering their eyes when they see that their target is the infamous gorgon.

When the boat is alongside the rocks, Medusa calls out, “As long as none of you leave the ship, aside from Poseidon, you shall not be harmed. Set one foot on this island to help your god, and I swear to the Fates one of my serpents will see it and it will be the last step you make before landing in Tartarus.”

They nod frantically, but none of them brave uncovering their eyes.

Poseidon walks out onto the deck, and the crew members drop to their knees, bowing to him as if he is worthy of the gesture. A snarl curls on Medusa’s lip, and Poseidon’s monstrous smile that meets her is almost enough to waver her courage, but her new power will have none of that.

“Hello, Poseidon. Come to rein me in, have you?” Medusa asks with a playful lilt to her voice that does little to mask her fury.

Stepping onto the rocks, Poseidon says, “It is long past due, don’t you think?”

Shrugging her shoulders, she bolsters her nerve. “I would say that is a matter of opinion, but it matters not. Only one of us will be leaving this little island—and it will not be you, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

He scoffs, and Medusa looks around the little island.

She smirks. “This seems like a pitiful place for a god to die, but I guess it’ll have to do.”

The amusement on his face falters, and the simmering anger underneath pokes out. “You need to learn your place. How dare you speak to a god with such insolence?”

“Your immortality is not reason alone to grant you respect. That is something that must be earned, mortal or immortal, and you have not come close to earning it.”

He grunts an objection, but Medusa continues, “You cast harm and pain about wherever you go. You do not recognize the sanctity of life. Your expansive lifespan has made you forget, but I will make you remember, and it will be the last thing on your mind as the life leaves your body. Mark my words.”

Shouting from the ship catches Medusa’s attention, as well as the crew scrambling to get below deck. She turns around to see an enormous wave building behind her.

Using the distraction, Poseidon grabs Medusa by the neck and pulls her to the ground, kneeling over her as his face reddens with anger.

The wave comes crashing down on them, and Poseidon holds her still as the forceful waters plunge over her before she has a chance to suck in a large breath. Her chest burns as it begs for any scrap of air it can cling to. In an instant, mentally Medusa is back in the Sea Temple, as the Twins repeatedly bring her to the brink of drowning, only sparing her at the last second.

Instead of triggering her trauma, this time it is Medusa’s power that responds to the memory. The injustices play in her mind as if she is watching it before her eyes.

She grunts in effort as she brings her knee up to Poseidon’s groin as he leans over her. Her new strength ensures that when it connects, it sends him doubling over in pain. Medusa shoves him off her, a laugh bubbling up in her chest. A god is on the ground before her, and all she had to do was kick his cock. He may be immortal, but in this regard, he is no different from a mortal man.

While he is on the ground, Medusa pulls his sword from the scabbard, leveling it at him with a satisfied smile.

He is still clutching his groin, and Medusa raises the sword in the air over his neck. She cannot believe it was this easy.

She brings the sword down, and it whooshes through the air. Poseidon twists and raises a hand to stop the blade from beheading him, and he yells out in pain as it connects with his palm, cutting into his leather glove and slicing a deep gash.

“You fucking bitch,” he growls as blood runs down his arm and Medusa pulls the sword back to her.

“Better to be a bitch than a god with no soul,” Medusa laughs, even though it burns her throat.

Swinging in a circular motion, Medusa attempts to strike him again, but this time he raises his arm instead of his hand and it glances off of his armor. The reverberation of the blade makes Medusa’s arms shake, and Poseidon rears back, bringing his fist to her face.

Stars explode as his blow lands on her cheekbone. Did she feel it crack?

The force knocks her from her feet, and Medusa grabs one of the rocks beneath her hands. She stands quickly, slamming the rock into his ear hard enough for blood to erupt from the spot.

Her cheek swells, and the upper part of it is visible in her periphery. Medusa squints against the pain, but watching Poseidon clutch his ear as blood gushes takes some of the sting out of it.

When he looks at her again, his face is red with rage. He raises his arms to his sides, and the winds pick up, gaining speed until they rival the force of a hurricane. Medusa clings to a boulder as trees uproot and smaller rocks fly into the air.

Poseidon takes forceful steps to close the distance between them, having to fight against the gale himself. When he reaches her, his hands encircle her throat, and Medusa gasps as it gets harder and harder to breathe.

A small rock hurtling through the air slams into Medusa’s temple, and her knees go weak as she curses against the pain.

Looking into Poseidon’s bloody face, she is delighted to see the assumed victory painted across his expression—just as planned.

His crimson smile drips with blood as he says, “It sure is a shame those serpents of yours work on everyone but me.” He chuckles, and she lets him sit in the assumption for a moment longer despite the lightheadedness that threatens to overtake her.

“Sometimes, what we don’t know is the source of our demise,” Medusa croaks out against the strain of his fingers.

His brow furrows. Digging deep into the well of power that now resides in her soul, Medusa looks into Poseidon’s eyes and with every ounce of her being expresses her will to her serpents.

Poseidon’s fingertips turn to stone, and he pulls his hands away, staring at them in horror as the petrification slowly creeps its way up his his arms.

Medusa’s smile is victorious as she walks over to Poseidon. “In these last seconds of your pathetic use of a life, I want you to remember every person you killed, harmed, and put under your heel just because you could. This is for them, and the days of callous, worthless gods like you are numbered. Even if I have to turn every one of them to stone myself.”