Page 70 of Heroines of Olympus

Icarus’s pulse thunders in her ears. “Yes, Goddess.”

“Welcome aboard.”

44

MEDUSA

The boat sways as Medusa sits in her tiny cage in the cargo hold of Poseidon’s ship. It has been hours, or at least it feels like it, and Poseidon has yet to his face.

Aside from when he captured her, Medusa has not seen him at all. She is not complaining, it is just odd.

Medusa tries to shift to the right of the cage to avoid the incessant drip from a leak, but there is not enough room. Her knees ache from having to keep them bent.

Does this ship not have normal cells?

Voices carry from outside of the room, and Medusa sits up, ready for confrontation. The voices fade as quickly as they arrived, and she slouches back down.

He is doing this on purpose. Making her sweat. Trying to break her.

He can’t. This shall not break me.

It will take more than the silent treatment and being caged like an animal to force her to ever want Poseidon. If he had been the one to find her on her island instead of Psyche, Medusa might have given in. Seeing herself through Psyche, and Cadmus, has changed her forever. She is not unlovable. Not a hazard, or a monster. Just Medusa.

Sending up a quick preyer to the Fates, Medusa hopes everyone made it away safely. It is doubtful anyone will tell her otherwise, unless it is just to gloat.

Picturing Cadmus standing there, refusing to leave her, is still a shock. Cadmus tried to save her. Despite Medusa being cruel to him at every turn, and even trying to kill him, he cares about her. He and Medusa both care about Psyche, but she is a god. A breathtaking god at that. Who could resist her?

Voices approach again and this time the cargo hold door swings open.

Poseidon strolls in, looking entirely too proud of himself.

He walks over to where her cage is and snaps his fingers. An Acolyte rushes over with a bucket and places it upside down for him to sit on.

Poseidon says nothing. Simply sits there looking in at Medusa, observing her, like she is some precious bird in an aviary instead of a person.

After several minutes, he gets up and walks out.

The Twins come in as soon as he is out the door and Medusa’s stomach drops. The low lighting in the cargo hold bounces off of the sharp features of their faces.

Each one is carrying a bowl, and they drop them down in front of her. Food and water. If you can call the mush in the bowl, food.

“Do you see the Master’s new pet?”

“I do, brother. I’ve seen better if you ask me.”

“Should we feed it?”

“Oh, yes. Definitely. It looks thirsty too.”

They pick up the bowls and hold them upside down over the top bars of her cage as the contents pour down onto her. The sludge smells like porridge and clings to her skin. Medusa does her best attempt at wiping it off while the Twins laugh at her.

One of them finally addresses her.

“Hi, pet. We’re going to have so much fun together.”

45

HESTIA

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