Page 32 of Heroines of Olympus

Saying nothing more, Joshua’s mother gives Medusa a nod of solidarity, and walks away, leaving her there in shock over what had just transpired. The walk to the Oracle resumes with Medusa keeping her head ducked down, afraid that she will see evidence of horror in the eyes all around her, regardless of the kindness just shown to her by a stranger. The few gazes she meets, though, only convey more of the same warmth and compassion and Medusa continues to mull it all over as they reach the stone steps and begin their ascent to The Observatory.

The view from the top of the steps is nothing short of spectacular. “I would say this is breathtaking,” Medusa huffs out. “But the steps took care of that.” Looking over at Psyche, Medusa rolls her eyes internally, when she sees the goddess is not even slightly winded.Gods.

The entrance to the Observatory is near the top of the stairs. All that is visible is a glass dome with reflective window panes filling it out. The structure seems modest, but Medusa is not sure what she expected. Anything grand would likely be visible from the front of the Isle, defeating the purpose of the stealth measures in place.

The front of the dome has side-by-side glass doors, but instead of the mirrored glass, a beautiful stained glass design depicting the night sky sparkles in the daylight. The colors and constellations are clear and vivid. It is absolutely beautiful. Psyche opens the door and they enter a chamber that is dark despite the light that should come in from the glass dome above them. Candles along the floor show a set of circular curling stairs going down to their right. Psyche immediately descends and Medusa follows.

At the bottom, there is an impossibly large room. Instead of making the building taller, they carved it down into the rocks. Rows and rows of shelves fill the room like a library, some holding books and scrolls, while others hold an array of crystals, jars of herbs, and possibly every mystical or academic ingredient someone could wish for. A long time ago, when she enjoyed learning, this place would have been a dream.

As they walk through the rows toward the back of the seemingly never-ending room. a disembodied voice weaves through the shelves and darkness.

“You have traveled far to be here, Medusa. Have you come to see what the Fates have in store for you?”

“Really, Cass?” Psyche asks. “Being a bit over the top, aren’t we?”

Coming to a stop in front of a curtain along the farthest wall, a hand from the other side pulls it open dramatically, and Psyche rolls her eyes, making Medusa very curious about the dynamic between these two.

“My dear!” She exclaims, looking at Medusa. “I have been waiting for so long for this opportunity to speak with you. I have so much to tell you, and some that I still cannot, but I will reveal all I can. Please call me Cassandra, or Cass.”

Full, voluminous hair frames her face like a cloud. Her orange and yellow robes make her rich walnut skin glow in the dim light of the sconces. The Olympic Oracle is much older. Medusa had only met her once, and even back then, she seemed ancient. Cass is in likely in her twenties, early twenties at that.

A narrow hallway leads to a small room with several armchairs, a couple of small tables, and a stack of books. It looks like a quiet nook to escape to. Medusa finds it oddly soothing and notices her nerves settling.

“Where would you like to begin?” Cass asks as she plops down in one of the armchairs, much more casually than one would expect from an oracle. Seeing the confusion on Medusa’s face, Cass says, “I’m sure the Oracle at the Pantheon was prim and proper.” She wrinkles her nose and continues, “Being raised outside of the Pantheon, I didn’t exactly get their etiquette manual.” The sarcasm in her voice is unmissable, but instead of finding it off-putting, Medusa feels like she has found a kindred soul.

“That’s fair,” Medusa responds. “And I’d like to start with my parents. What do I need to know about them, what they kept from me?” She and Psyche sit in the remaining two chairs that are next to each other and settle in to hear Cass’s answer.

“I can’t tell you everything that’s been withheld from you. It’s complicated, but the short version is, I was given this information when I was only a child. Only parts of it have been revealed to me, and I was told that we would know what was important when the time came.”

“What could that possibly mean?” Medusa asks, resisting the urge to slap her palm to her forehead in frustration. “Why can’t anything ever be a direct answer?” She tries to shove down the irritation, lest she push away the only person who can give her answers.

“I understand your confusion. All I can tell you about it is that when I was eight, the Fates came to me in a dream. They told me that one day I would meet a woman wronged by the gods, like so many others, except this one would be different. This one would be a very important piece to one of the most critical puzzles our society might collectively face. I was told that relevant information would reveal itself to me and when all the pieces come together, the tides of this world will shift and the gods will tremble.”

Medusa just blinks in response, unsure of what to say. There has to be an error. She’s positive about it.

“There’s no chance I could be that important. I had my entire life stripped from me as they forced me into exile.”

“It’s not a mistake, Lyra,” Psyche says, reaching out from one chair to the other to take her hand. A gesture that does not go unnoticed by Cass, who raises a quizzical brow. The goddess continues, “Destiny is here and pulling the strings. Something for which I, for one, am especially grateful.” With that, she pats Medusa’s hand and puts it back in her own lap, allowing Medusa to once again focus on the Cass.

“Your parents,” Cass begins, “were actually the start of The Allegiance. They weren’t involved, but it was their deaths that sparked it. Your uncle, Alec, was so enraged at what the gods had done, not only to your parents but to all the people they had stomped on, taken advantage of, and harmed all in the name of status and power.

“Your mother wasn’t simply a god. She was in control of an extensive region and was beloved. The region itself hasn’t been revealed to me yet, so I think that may yet play a part in all of this. I don’t know how they did it, but when the Pantheon removed your parents from the history books, they somehow also made most of the world forget about them, and the people whodoremember them all have conflicting stories. The only thing that could pierce the fog that hid their memories was true, unyielding love for them like your uncle bore and even then I question how accurate his own memories are. This game of information will be long and strategic, but in the meantime, we will do all we can to strike against the Pantheon with what everything we have.”

“The Fates did reveal to me that you have a half-brother. He is unaware of you, as you have been of him. I hope we will know soon, as I am positive he will be an equally important factor in the time to come.”

“Your mother was so much more than what they taught you. The Fates told me she was kind, fair, and compassionate. They flooded my mind with images of her, small visions of her helping people, ruling her region in a way that had her beloved by all. The Pantheon would never have gotten away with what they did to her if the public had known. They loved her so much that when she introduced her new husband, your father, they welcomed him to her side, despite the fact that mortals and gods are not supposed to form romantic attachments… physical ones are a different matter of course.” O says with a smirk.

“Surely they didn’t kill my parents just because of a relationship?”

Psyche’s story about Selene flashes into her mind. Maybe they would.

“That is how it would appear to the only person who even remembers them, your uncle. The Pantheon wasn’t concerned because they didn’t believe anyone could ever have escaped their glamour. What your uncle doesn’t know, what I only know because of the Fates, is that when you and your brother were both very young, the official Oracle at the Pantheon had been delving into dark magic. She used her sinister abilities to extract a prophecy from the universe. I don’t yet know what that prophecy is, but I know it made the Pantheon nervous enough to go through the trouble of removing such a prominent figure in our society.”

“A prophecy?” Medusa asks, startled.

Medusa’s head is swimming with even more questions. Every answer leads to fresh lines of inquiry, and it is all too much for her. She gets up to leave the room, but Cass grabs her wrist.

“Sit.” Cass says, but her voice is changed. It is deeper than before and sounds ancient.

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