Page 64 of Heroines of Olympus

Medusa is afraid to know the answer but asks anyway, “What happened to him?”

His gaze sharpens to a hateful point. “You did.”

Medusa’s heart rate accelerates. How can she be responsible for his brother’s death? Is this another mistake from her past that Medusa now holds responsibility for?

“Did… did he attack me on my island? I hurt no one while I was there who wasn’t there to harm me first, I swear it!”

Nicodemus’s temper flares. “Do your kills mean so little to you that you can’t even keep track of them? I’m not surprised you didn’t even bother to learn his name. Maybe you really truly are the monster the stories claim.”

“I don’t understand,” Medusa starts, but realization dawns on her. “Oh.”

“Oh? Oh?? Is that all you can say to me?” He exclaims while rattling the bars, tears of both anger and sorrow welling in the corners of his eyes.

How did she miss the resemblance before? When his brother attacked Medusa, she had not exactly stopped to consider who he possibly looked like. The same eyes looking back at Medusa now with hate that had been in the bathhouse when she first arrived at the Isle.

This is a hate that will never see reason. Grief does not care if the death was justified or not, it only knows that the hole left in your heart feels like a void.

“You called me Viper before that happened, though. Why did you already loathe me?”

“Women like you disgust me. You think you can lead men on, even gods, and then refuse them? No. No more teasing and torturing. Harpies like you are going to start getting what’s coming to them.”

“Teasing? Leading men on? What on Gaia’s earth are you talking about?”

“Poseidon told us everything. All of the Olympic Isles know about how you taunted Poseidon with your beauty, and then refused him when he couldn’t take it anymore. Everyone knows what you made him do to you and why.”

Everyone. Everyone thinks this? Is that what they see when they look at her?

One question keeps nagging in the back of her mind, though.

“How did you get around the oath? Do you think your brother would have wanted your soul in Tartarus for eternity?”

“Don’t you dare try to tell me what my brother would want for me! You silenced him for eternity. And those oaths? Psyche isn’t the only god with powers. Workarounds can be found if one is inventive enough.”

“Heattackedme. I know this means little, but I never intended to truly harm him.”

“Save it. Once Poseidon gets here, I never have to look at you again, you fucking scaly monstrosity.”

He spits on the ground at her feet and turns on his heel and retreats into the distance, the light fading with the sound of his footsteps.

* * *

Alone in hercell once again, Medusa tries to stay calm, but it has been a losing effort. Every time she thinks she has a grip on herself, her thoughts remind herHE’son his way. It seems like Poseidon is right on her heels at every turn. Her thoughts cycle between impending doom, fear for Psyche, and guilt over assuming the worst of Cadmus every chance she got. Medusa thinks about Ajax and Cyril and says a silent prayer to the Fates that any of them see the other side of this.

Medusa hopes beyond hope Alec might still be free out there. Even if she does not make it out, knowing that at least he did would be better than the alternative.

Her thoughts wander back to her island and how much has changed in the few days since Medusa left. Was leaving worth it? Psyche’s smile pops into her mind, pulling her back into the memories they have already made together, and she knows it was. It has been exhilarating getting to know Psyche. There seemed to be all the time in the world for her to court Psyche’s soul, but now Medusa’s own heart aches.

Finally, feeling less woozy from her head wound, Medusa stands carefully, taking it slowly to avoid vertigo. The exterior of her enclosure is still barely visible.

With her back to the cage door, her bound fingers brush over the bars as she feels for hinges or mechanisms, almost crying from joy when her hands find the lock. Shuffling across the floor with her feet, Medusa looks for anything that can break the lock.

Two passes over the entire floor finds nothing of use.

Medusa paces in the cell and tries to think, racking her useless brain.

More footsteps approach, much quicker than before. Someone comes running in her direction, trying to see in the darkness.

“Medusa, Ajax, Cyril, Alec?” A low voice calls in a hushed tone.

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