Page 14 of Heroines of Olympus

An hour later,after drinking enough water to drown even a naiad, and idle chat with Alec, he asks Medusa if she wants to poke her head in on Psyche and see how she is faring. Butterflies fill her stomach at the thought, but she nods yes with as much nonchalance as she can muster. The last thing this situation needs is her fawning over a goddess just because she has been lonely.

He extends his elbow to her, and she swings her legs over the side of the bed and loops her arm through his. Medusa closes her eyes and breathes in contact with another person who is not tethered to death and violence. It has been so long that now that she faces it again, it is overwhelming. She did not realize how starved she was for contact or how unsettling it would feel.

Her eyes well with tears and Alec opens his mouth to say something, but Medusa puts a hand up to stop him before he can pity her or, worse… comfort her. As much as she loves the concept of someone holding her while she cries, it has been so long that even this small touch is too much.

She removes her arm from his and explains, “No, please. If we talk about it now, my wall will come crashing down, and I desperately need to keep it up right now. This is going to take time for me, and I’m going to be a mess along the way. I’ll do my best to keep it from spilling out.”

“I understand, Lyra. Allow me to say one thing, and then that’ll be the last you hear from me on the matter until you’re ready.” He pauses, waiting for permission to go ahead, which she gives with a nod. “I will not pretend I know what your journey has been like. I can only imagine it’s going to be stuff that it will take you a lifetime to process. When you’re ready, though, that processingcanspill over and we will be here waiting to help you through it. There’s no reason for you to isolate your feelings. They aren’t an inconvenience or imposition, nor are they anything to punish yourself over. We will do this together.” He adds again for emphasis, “Together.”

All she can do is nod and blink back the tears that are severely threatening to fall now. She closes her eyes tight, takes a few deep breaths and then tucks the pain away to deal with later. Her ability to compartmentalize at this point is almost as sharp of a defensive weapon as her serpentine locks.

7

HESTIA

Why could the Oracle not see anything about what happened to Hera? There has to be heavy duty power at play here. Her anxiety spikes at how far the ramifications of something like this could echo throughout their world. Who is involved? Is she to assume that every god in the Pantheon who is turning a blind eye to Hera’s disappearance is complicit in her absence?

She paces in her library, reviewing what little information she has about her missing friend. Her eyelids droop from the late hour, but she still can’t help but be restless. She feels like she is losing her mind. If any of the other gods went missing, would the rest of them still act as if it is business as usual? Zeus would likely cleave the world apart with lightning looking for Ares or Poseidon. Would he do the same for Hestia? Demeter? Probably only Aphrodite, and that would depend on his libido at the time.

The Oracle told her to keep the door open for an unlikely ally, but how is Hestia supposed to trust anyone at all? Between needing to hide her search from watching eyes and being an informant for the resistance, there were plenty of traitorous acts for them to uncover. Are they truly traitorous acts, though? If she does them for the sake of the morality of the realm, does that cancel out the betrayal and espionage? That will be for the Fates to determine.

Hestia thumbs through the pages of Hera’s journal. She has been over it so many times already. It is a miracle she managed to slip into Hera’s quarters unseen long enough to find it. Her eyes scan the pages as they say the same thing they always say. It only goes back a few months before she went missing and tells the story of a caged bird. One who knows that she is unwanted, but Zeus’s selfishness cannot allow her to be let go. Hera and Zeus would not have been the first gods to decide that eternity married is a long time to commit. Perhaps she ran away. Saw a window and slipped out to go live amongst the dryads, or in a cabin on a seaside cliff. Hestia’s gut still screams that her friend needs her.

She drops into the chair at her desk and pulls off her glasses, massaging her temples to work out the headache she can feel forming.

Her mind wanders to the Allegiance, and as it always does, Alec. Hestia’s heart catches in her throat as she thinks about him and the danger he faces every day for standing up to the Pantheon. She wonders if there is any news from him yet, but she tries to not be constantly checking for updates. The more time she spends opening and closing her hiding spot, the more likely she will get caught. Hestia cannot afford that right now.

Medusa is such a curiosity. Hestia has heard all the rumors throughout the years about their altercation, but has always been hesitant to believe Poseidon’s official story. She always felt it was very convenient that only one side of things was presented and wondered what Medusa would say about his claims. She had only met the woman a few times, as an Acolyte, when Hestia visited Athena’s Temple. Medusa always seemed polite, respectful, and nothing like the duplicitous, conniving snake Poseidon claims she is. Supposedly, that’s why he transformed her into a gorgon, but Hestia will hold off on believing that pile of utter donkey dung.

The Allegiance had finally gotten a lead on her location and convinced Perseus to bring Alec and Psyche with him. They speculated it would take some convincing, but the buffoon didn’t even hesitate. Hestia believes he may have even muttered something about having an audience. He might have plenty of brawn, but his head must have been made of sawdust.

Hestia pulls the stone out and sees that it is glowing.

She takes one last look around her quiet library to ensure she is alone and is greeted by silence. Content with that, she focuses her attention back on the stone.

Fearful the message will tell her she was too late, especially since Poseidon already had at least a day’s head start by the time Hestia overheard his plans. She takes a breath before closing her eyes to open her mind and receive the message.

Her heart is in her throat as his voice fills her head. Normally, the second his presence is in her mind, her nerves settle, and hearing him soothes some of her worries. Today, it does none of those things until she hears him utter the words that finally allow her anxiety to recede.

“We got her. We’re clear and we are safe for now. There was a close call with Poseidon, but Psyche sent him running with his tail tucked between his legs.”

She chuckles at the imagery that brings forth and breathes a sigh of relief.

They are safe.

His message continues and Hestia sits back in her chair to get comfortable. They never discuss the unspoken routine between them, the messages that follow the updates. Once their duties are set aside, there is always a small tidbit on how they are doing personally. They talk about food they tried, a joke they heard and wanted to share. She always hopes their messages lighten his heart like they do hers.

Hestia listens as he recounts the specifics of the altercation and when he is through, she is so grateful Psyche was there and that the Leviathan was close enough to recover them before they had succumbed to the hazardous ocean waters.

He ends the message on a much more personal level, catching Hestia off guard. Any intimate conversations have been light-hearted, meant to ease the troubles of the day, not pack an emotional punch. Today is different.

“A face flashed into my mind when everything was going to shit. I would be a coward if I don’t tell you that face was yours.” His voice full with emotion.

She sucks in a sharp breath and her heart nearly skips a beat, an impressive feat for a god, and he continues.

“I tell you jokes and laugh about my day when I just want to tell you that your voice carries me through until I hear it again the next week. I fear for your safety there. I know you’re a god and I’m just a mortal man, but I worry what they will do if they find out you’re helping us. Please be safe.”

The silence that fills the room when the message ends is deafening.