Page 2 of The Shadow Gods

The sword fell from his hand, clattering onto the marble and betraying his youth and inexperience.

“Gorgon.”

Not my name, but the title given to me by the goddess.Gorgon.The word, spoken in a language that had morphed and changed since it had rolled off my tongue, was guttural. Rough. It meant, “grim.” “Dreadful.” Athena's punishment hadn't only been this...this...body. It had been all-encompassing. Not even my name was remembered, only what I'd become.

Anger welled up, and my serpents coiled and hissed, then darted into the air, tasting it.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“Perseus.” His voice was a little louder this time, a little stronger. He placed the shield at his feet, grasped the item on his back, and twisted it toward him as he picked up his sword. “Son of Zeus.”

Zeus.

Father of Athena. This made Perseus her brother. And he was nephew to Poseidon.

The god who had...

I swallowed, mouth suddenly dry as a million and one images assaulted my brain the way the god had assaulted my body.

Perseus crept closer, and I slid farther into the shadows. He came to stand beneath a torch, and now I could see him clearly. The wide brown eyes, the clear, pale skin. He was broad-shouldered but lanky, like he still had years before his strength and size were realized.

So young.

I'd been young once, too, but my youth and innocence were stolen. I hadn't been given a chance at survival.

“Why are you here?” I asked. He didn't belong here.

“The gods sent me,” he replied. “I need—”

I cut him off. “Go.”Survive.“Whatever the gods have told you are lies.”

“Why would I believe a monster over the gods?”

The serpents hissed, as if offended for me. I was used to the name, but it still hurt. “If I'm a monster, it's because the gods made me one. Go home, boy. Live your life.”

I turned from him, refusing to murder someone barely out of childhood. From the corner of my eye, I caught a gleam. A flash. Instinctively, I drew back, hiding as much of my body as possible. My serpents went silent, watching.

He held his sword high. If I had been crueler, I could have attacked then. The posture left him open, and with one thrust of the many swords littering the floor, I could slice him from naval to nose.

I didn't, though.

Perseus came closer, his feet kicking stones along the floor. Jaw set, muscles tense, he came toward me, and I backed up farther.

Run.

I should have, but I didn't. Instead, I put my hand over my mouth, trying to be so, so quiet. Cool tongues touched my shoulders and neck, and I lifted the other hand to stroke the smooth bodies wound around me.

It was then I made a mistake. One I had never made before, and one that couldn't be taken back. I glanced at the serpents hovering by my face and missed the smooth, mirrored silver until it was right in front of me.

There I was.

I had aged. My eyes were harder, darker, and shadowed. Lines bracketed my mouth, which was drawn tightly. Gone were the petal pink lips and flushed, tan skin. All that was left was a monster.

The serpents hissed, mouths open wide, fangs displayed as a warning as they too came face to face with their reflection.

I felt the cold creep along my cheeks, caught the arc of metal as it swept through the air toward me.

It sliced. Cut. Severed.

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