Page 3 of The Conquest of Medusa

When she left her hut in the morning, nestled in a vale that was normally protected from human sight through ancient magic, there he was. She found him already awake on the bed of moss he’d prepared for himself under a crude lean-to. He followed her, chatting away like the most annoying town crier ever, telling her news of the wider world, its petty grievances, and frivolities.

“I can’t believe I’m missing out,” she muttered as he continued talking about the war between one island and another.

When she hunted, Perseus would take down her prey with a slingshot before she could release an arrow from her bow. He’d run to retrieve whatever creature he felled, bringing it back to her like a hopeful, happy puppy waiting for approval. She’d take the kill, go home, and slam the door in his face.

The days were irritating enough but the nights? They were the worst. He’d sit on her doorstep and strum a lute that he hid somewhere on his person, singing in the most off-key tones she’d ever heard. Even with her wings wrapped around her head, she couldn’t shut out that fucking terrible singing, which would go on for hours. All his songs seemed to be about this woman who wanted him, or that woman who’d bedded him and had perished of orgasmic bliss and wouldn’t she love to be next?

If she were being honest with herself, she’d have to admit these songs of epic sexual conquests were most likely true. Perseus was tall, muscular, dark haired and golden eyed. Jawline shaped by the gods. He was the one thing the Olympians got right. Being even more honest, that was the reason she didn’t try harder to kill him. It would have been a shame to destroy something so beautiful in a world that was often anything but lovely.

None of that made him any less annoying. On the fourth day, there he was again at sunup with his slingshot, grinning at her. He followed her all through the vale. Neither of them caught anything and she cursed with frustration; that meant dried beans and greens for a meager dinner. As Perseus hummed, her fury and impatience rose until she couldn’t contain it. She rounded on him, surprising him by storming right up to his face.

“Look, Son of Zeus. You’ve been here for days. Your stomping around and godawful singing have apparently scared off all living things in this valley for miles. Will you please just go and leave me in peace?” she shouted.

“Not until you let me in and let me plead my cause one more time,” he said with a casual shrug.

“You plead it, I heard you, now go. Go!”

His response was a heavy, regretful sigh. “If that’s what you want. But you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.”

“I’dlovea chance to miss you. Goodbye.”

She was relieved when he turned and strolled in the other direction, down the trail leading out of the valley. The relief lasted that morning but turned again to frustration when she attempted to hunt and returned home emptyhanded. And as the afternoon dwindled into twilight, she kept glancing outside her window, half expecting to see Perseus stretched out under the lean-to with his damned lute but there was no one there. Just as the sun dipped low in the sky, there was a new sensation, an unfamiliar space in her chest where the annoyance for him had been stored. It was empty now.

Wait, did she…missthat arrogant creature after all? No. She missed no one because she needed no one. This was her life. There was no room in it for demigods, attractive or not.

That didn’t explain how she rushed to the door when a knock pounded an hour later. She opened it to see Perseus with a bloodied deer draped across his massive shoulders. It must have weighed a ton, but he carried it with ease. A look of pride and triumph flashed across his features when she gaped at him.

“Dinner is served, madam. That is, if you want to eat well tonight. I know I do.”

The insolent bastard had the nerve to run a lascivious gaze from her lips to her breasts and further south to the apex of her thighs. He licked his own lips and her body throbbed in involuntary response.

“The only thing on the menu tonight is venison. Leave it outside and I’ll dress it,” she said coolly.

“I’ll dress it. You cook it.” He winked at her and headed to the shed where she prepped her kills, leaving her to press her hands against her cheeks to cool down the flush.

Perseus tracking and bringing back the deer had been a nice surprise. As she prepared the rest of the food, she wondered how far he’d gone to find it. When he brought in the meat for her to cook, she did so grudgingly on the outside but inside she was melting like sun warmed sap. And while she cooked, he regaled her with more tall tales and epic events. She had to admit he was amusing and…well, it had been a long time since she’d encountered anyone who could be described as charming, but he fit the bill.

Medusa’s heart ticked, keeping time to the pulsing in her throat as she washed the dinner dishes in the kitchen. Perseus was moving about in the larger room, readying himself and his weapons for the next phase of his adventure. And what a grand adventure it had been so far, as he’d told her over their dinner of venison, greens and berries.

“Thank you for the meal. It was delicious,” Perseus said, strolling up behind her.

“Thank you for bringing it.” Medusa felt him standing there, looking around at all her pots and baskets arrayed on the walls.

“So…now that we’ve finished, I’m going to assume that since you didn’t immediately throw me out you might be ready to discuss my request.”

Medusa put the last dish on the shelf on the wall. “I decided over dinner. I’ll go with you to rescue the princess. Not for your sake but for hers. She doesn’t deserve to die because your uncle can’t control his temper. Among the other things he can’t seem to control.”

Perseus cleared this throat, as if he understood very well what she was referring to.

“Thank you. I’ll leave the choice to you if we should go now and cross the sea under cover of darkness, or if we should wait until dawn. Stay here tonight.”

“Well,” Medusa answered after a long beat of silence. “We need to talk about what lies ahead. You might need the rest.”

Perseus’s smile brightened the space. He seemed to fill the small entryway with his giant frame and those amber eyes touched on all her things and then her. That gaze taking her in from head to toe made her feel like she was being bathed in gold. She wasn’t used to this, another person in her home, and not one this vital, radiating with the energy of his supernatural heritage.

“Alright, then we’ll stay,” Perseus said.

Finally, he moved, heading back to the stacks of futons that made up the couch. He flung himself down, got comfortable on the pillows and waited. Medusa went after him, once she could settle the strange tingles running up and down her body. She chose the other couch, drawing her wings tight and crossing her knees.

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