Page 59 of Heroines of Olympus

The other gala attendees continue straight through the foyer to the ballroom, and their group follows. They pretend to mingle as they work their way over to the hallway off the ballroom that has the lavatories. According to Cadmus’s map, this hallway should continue in the direction they need to go to find the tunnel.

On the stage, the musicians are playing and the sound of the instruments soothes Medusa’s nerves slightly. The sensual melody is hypnotic, but they have a job to do.

They go through the motions of using the facilities until no bystanders remain. The process eats into the precious minutes they have to linger, but it pays off when the coast is finally clear. They continue on, quickly disappearing around the corner before anyone spots them.

After they are a little way down the hallway, Cadmus opens his mouth to speak when a man comes stumbling toward them. He appears drunk, with his rabbit mask sitting haphazardly on his face, revealing whiskers and ruddy skin likely from years of alcohol abuse.

He sees Medusa, and slurs, “Ssswhat are yousssss doing here pretty ladiessssss,” and belches.

They make to just ignore him and move past him when suddenly he grabs Medusa’s arm and yanks her toward him.

“Don’tttt ignore meee, bitch,” he grunts out the last word.

Medusa is done being grabbed and touched by people, twisting out of his grip and punching him square in the throat. Nikolas trained her well and knows where to land a hit. He makes a choking sound that is then accompanied by his wailing, bringing her more satisfaction than it should have, but she is done letting the people she cares about get hurt.

“Touch me again, and I will hurt more than your pathetic neck.”

The man tries to regain control of his breathing, repeatedly gasping for air.

Medusa has put the mission at risk. Again. How does she let herself be constantly provoked into making the wrong decisions? Every time they back her into a corner, it leaves Medusa with nothing but impossible choices and people angry with her. It does not matter if it was instigated by someone else, or if her options we limited. Medusa always pays the price.

The man looks like he wants to say something back to her, but before he can, Cadmus abruptly puts the encounter to an end by striking the back of the man’s head with the hilt of the sword he pulls from under his cloak. The man crumples into a heap, holding his head. They continue down the hallway as he scurries off.

As Medusa watches his form recede, her unease grows with every stride he takes. Alec gives Cadmus an approving glance and once again, they are on their way to find the tunnels to the marketplace.

37

ICARUS

Icarus grabs a glass of wine from a passing server and closes her eyes as the sweet fruity flavors hit her tongue. This wine differs from the ales and meads at the barracks these days and she letting it carry her away, lightly swaying with the sound of a bow being pulled across the strings of a cello.

Growing up on a farm, Icarus dreamed of opportunities like this. The grand party is the stuff of fantasy, gilded decor in soft candlelight, beautiful people beautifully dressed, and food and wine flowing. She feels both out of her element and ready to embrace the new experiences her new life is affording her. Being in rotation for one of the elite legions definitely has its perks.

Shopping for the dress for this had been an utter fantasy. It was silly and girly going to the shops trying them on, and Icarus loved every second. The gold satin dress that slid over her body like liquid metal was the obvious choice, confirmed by the multiple sets of eyes that have been watching her. Golden wings fanning out from the sides of a matching mask drew Icarus in the moment she had laid eyes on them, like they called to her.

When Icarus opens her eyes, the first thing that is visible is rose gold, but when her vision focuses, there is an incredibly beautiful woman standing there. The metallic blush color of her dress compliments the golden yellow of the one Icarus wears. The vines and thorns on her mask frame intensely violet eyes.

Icarus’s heart skips a beat. Even with most of the woman’s face obscured, Icarus knows this is the most she has ever been attracted to anybody.

Perhaps there is an aphrodisiac in the wine, or maybe the flowers, but Icarus wants to get lost in this woman. A tug of something familiar simmers beneath the surface.

“It’s you,” the woman says, breathlessly.

What does she mean?

“Never mind that,” she continues with a wave of her hand.

A small hand extends to Icarus, and the woman asks, “Will you do me the honor of a dance?”

Icarus blushes, taking the mystery woman’s hand and accepting her invitation. Something seems so recognizable about the woman’s voice, but Icarus is struggling to place it, too lost in the woman’s trance to even really try.

They walk to the middle of the dance floor right as the song that is playing ends.

The woman raises her arms, bending her elbows and squaring her shoulders into a perfect frame, and Icarus places her left hand on the woman’s shoulder and her right in the woman’s left.

The music begins, slow and sensual, and the mysterious stranger leads Icarus across the dance floor. It is a good thing her father had taught Icarus how to dance. She matches the woman step for step, turn for turn. Everything feels right with this woman. Icarus’s body feels both at home with her and ignited with desire. The pull is so strong that Icarus rethinks her entire life. Was she searching for a place in this world amongst the Heroes this whole time, or was she just searching forher?

The song ends with a flourish as the woman spins Icarus and finishes with a dip that they hold for several heartbeats, staring into each other’s eyes.

---