Page 1 of The Shadow Gods

Medusa

Thousands of Years Ago

Someone was here. Like all warriors, they tried to move silently through my lair.

The smoke from the torches lighting this cold, lonely space cast shadows on the stained walls. Hundreds of years of smoke marred a temple that used to be pristine. Even now, I could picture it. The altar. The columns.

The statue of the goddess remained stark white, while everything around me was tainted.

Like I was.

Gods, I was tired.

I crept over the broken marble floors, slithered over the stone bodies of the men who had come before.

To kill me.

To punish me for a crime I had never committed and an outcome I’d never deserved.

Rage filled my belly and my companions hissed at my disquiet. We were one now, when for so long, we'd been creatures desperate to escape each other. A cool tongue kissed my cheek, and I reached my hand to my head, petting the serpents.Quiet, quiet.My touch calmed them, though I felt anything but.

Metal clattered to the ground, and if I hadn't needed to worry about my life, I would have smiled. Whoever this was moved with the stealth of an oversized bull.

I bent down, taking up the golden sword of one of my victims. My hazy reflection gleamed in the shiny hilt, and for a second, I was captivated. There were no features to discern, only the outline of my neck and head.

And the serpents.

Don't look.

I didn't want to see what I'd become, but it was ever so tempting. I only had a dim memory of what I'd been and what the goddess Athena had made me. Now, there was only what the dim light revealed. Dirty hands and arms. Long, ragged nails. My dress had long ago disintegrated, so I wore what my victims left behind: a breastplate and bracers. I had no need for shoes, as Athena had transformed my skin into scales and folded my lower body into that of a snake.

Gliding one hand over my skin, I brushed aside the rocks and dirt that clung to me and stretched around a fallen column to find my pursuer.

There.

He was younger than the other warriors and not clad in the protective gear of a soldier. His eyes were wide, scanning every dark corner, but never landing on me. In his worst nightmares, he couldn't conceive of such a being.

In one hand, he held a sword, and the other, a bright shield. I noticed something strapped to his back but ignored it. The danger was the weapon that trembled like the flickering flames of the torches.

Who are you?

Had he lost a wager? Part of me—the human part from long ago, the part that had been stomped, violated, and beaten—hated his fate. He couldn't defeat me. The moment our eyes met, he would transform from this scared boy to stone.

The other part of me—theafter, the one that had been molded by cruelty and fear—felt nothing but anger.

I did nothing to deserve this, but mortal after mortal, and even a half-god or two, made it their mission to steal into my asylum and hunt me.

Honor. Pride. Bragging rights. Those were the motivations behind these trespassers.

Despite this boy's age, he was no different.

My serpents hissed quietly in my ear, as if urging me to inquire. They were curious creatures, hesitant and tentative, but curious.

And they wondered about him.

It wouldn't change the outcome, but I gave into their desire.

My voice, which I hadn't used since Athena had turned me, came out rusty and broken as I slid lower, hiding my grotesque body behind a fallen wall. “Who are you?”

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