Page 51 of Heroines of Olympus

He grips her upper arm, exactly where Nicodemus had his hand, and Medusa has had enough, yanking her arm from Cadmus’s grip. “I can’t just let him take her! I thought you cared about her!”

Medusa’s eyes narrow with suspicion as she glares into Cadmus’s golden eyes. “This seems too well orchestrated for the captain to have managed it alone.”

Cadmus’s jaw clenches. “I didn’t do this! We don’t have time to argue. I have to get you below decks.”

The crew races around them, ignoring their altercation as they prepare the best they can to face this peril with no protection. The clanking of metal fills the air as the crew members, who are absolutely necessary to operate the ship, chain themselves to their posts with ankle shackles.

“Worry about yourself. I’m fine. Let. Me. Go.” Medusa says through gritted teeth, daring him to challenge her.

Stepping around him, Medusa once again goes to leave.

The deck spins as Cadmus’s arms circle around Medusa’s waist, as he throws her over his shoulder with a grunt.

“I’m not losing you too.” He grits out through the effort of containing Medusa’s flailing as she hits and kicks him. Anything to make him let her go.

Medusa fights him through every step as he carries her down to a cabin.

“We have to go get her!” Every second that passes feels like a rope between her heart and Psyche’s is being stretched and pulled.

“We will. We have to make it out of the Strait first.”

The door slams behind Cadmus as he drops her on the bed. The bed where she and Psyche made love mere hours ago mocks her. Medusa runs her fingers over the coarse blanket. Cadmus sits beside her.

This is all Medusa’s fault. Fighting Nicodemus was stupid. If she had gone along with what he asked, they would have been long gone before Psyche got there. Guilt consumes Medusa. What did she do to make the Fates consign her to a life of nothing but impossibly wrong choices?

The external lock clicks on the door, sealing them in together to ride out the Strait, and with Medusa’s options completely out of her hands, the fight finally leaves her. Tears flow freely and Medusa lets them fall. Spasms wrack her chest as she struggles to breathe. Her grief is palpable — a gaping hole in Medusa’s soul.

Cadmus watches Medusa patiently, saying nothing, as her sobs slowly subside.

When Medusa looks at him again, she softens. This man took care of her, kept her safe from herself. With danger barreling down on them, Cadmus made Medusa and her safety a priority. Accusing him of orchestrating Psyche’s abduction was a low blow. Medusa knows Cadmus cares for Psyche, has seen the way he looks at the goddess when Psyche was unaware. But he let Medusa say all of those things, anyway. Let her rage and cry.

Cadmus is close enough that Medusa is within arm’s reach if she needs him, but only just. Medusa reaches over and takes his hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

He turns to look at her with a shocked expression, but gives her hand a gentle squeeze, running his thumb along hers in soft strokes.

Medusa and Cadmus lean back against the wall in the bed, fingers laced together as they brace themselves for what will hopefully be an uneventful half-hour.

* * *

The silence is excruciating.The sirens know they are here, but drawing extra attention to themselves seems foolish, so they do not utter a sound.

Medusa’s focus should be on surviving the sirens, but all she can think about is Psyche. Surely the Pantheon will not hurt her. She is agod.

It would hardly be the first time the gods have harmed one another, though. The Pantheon has proven itself to be unscrupulous. Fear for Psyche is all Medusa can think about, unable to stop herself from imagining all the ways Psyche could be harmed.

They are mostly through the fields and the light at the end of the tunnel is nearing when, suddenly, harmonic notes fill the air.

Medusa’s eyes glaze over, and her jaw drops open as the ethereal voices flood her mind. They are singing a sorrowful tune. They are not words Medusa’s mind recognizes, but her soul does, a cry escaping her as emotion floods through her and pictures of Psyche race through her mind.

She grips Cadmus’s hand instinctively and the squeeze that is returned snaps her back to reality slightly. Turning her head, Medusa sees his jaw is set, his eyes closed as he, too, tries to block out their melodic torture.

Medusa reaches out with her free hand and cups his cheek. Cadmus’s eyes fly open and meet Medusa’s. The song fades slightly and Medusa does not know if they are almost through the Strait or if the power of their eyes locked together is enough to slightly diminish the call of the sirens.

There is a loud thunk from the decks above, followed by, “Son of a bitch!” A series of crashing sounds follow.

Both Medusa and Cadmus stop breathing in fear of the source of the exclamation they just heard. There is a brief second of silence once more before the shouting begins. Medusa jerks as if to jump up, but Cadmus squeezes her hand and firmly shakes his head no.

Medusa’s heart is in her throat as the noise continues, but it is extinguished soon after it begins. The silence left in its wake is heavy with dread. Tears are streaming from the corners of Cadmus’s eyes and Medusa is paralyzed with fear and frustration. It goes against everything in her to hear someone in distress and simply ignore them, even if she knows that would help no one.

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