Page 25 of Heroines of Olympus

14

MEDUSA

Medusa jerks her hand back and gasps. She looks at Psyche in horror and shame.Oh no. What has she done?

Cadmus, still groggy, glances from Medusa to Psyche and back to Medusa. They lock eyes and she hopes hers convey an apology and regret.

He looks over at Psyche again. “Hello, goddess. I would kneel in your honor, but as you can see, I’m somewhat incapacitated.” His gaze meets Medusa’s once more. “Thank you for tending to me so diligently and thank you for not letting me die out in the water. I owe you my life.”

Is he covering for her? Why is he doing that? Does he know she was about to kill him? Guilt gnaws and picks at every fresh wound opened up by his kindness. Or is this so she will let her guard down? Maybe he will hold it over her head when Psyche is not here. Medusa cannot believe she had been so impulsive. Why is she so delusional as to think that she is anything but the monster they make her out to be? Year after year, every death, she told herself she was only doing it to protect herself. Everything was in self-defense. But this? This was too far. He was helpless, and Medusa was safe. Surely, she would not have gone through with it.

Psyche looks like she does not buy the story, but moves on.

As she gains distance from what almost happened, she becomes more appalled by her actions. Would she really have done it? She seemed awfully close and Medusa is ashamed that she let her emotions take control that strongly and guide her. Her guilt has her reaching for the cup and pitcher on the table, identical to the ones in her cabin. She pours a cup and sets it on the table. Picking up the folded blanket from the floor, she places it behind his pillow, helping him sit up. He groans in pain at the shifting movement, but seems glad to be in a slightly different position. Medusa sits back down and brings the cup to his lips. He hesitates for a moment and Medusa says, “You need water and you and I both know I don’t need to poison you.”

At that, he opens his mouth slightly and closes his eyes as the cool water rushes in. Making sure to only give him small sips to start, they do this until the cup is empty. He looks over at the pitcher as if to ask for more, but Medusa shakes her head no. “Take it slowly with your injury. We’ll do more in a few minutes. Just rest and try not to do anything stupid. I don’t want healing you to be harder than it has to be. Especially when it’s debatable if you are worth the effort.”

“Well, your bedside manner is lacking, but at least you haven’t killed him yet,” Psyche says.

Cadmus looks at Medusa and she looks away in shame, pretending to be neatening up the pile of bandages on the table.

How could she have been about to kill a defenseless person? Yes, he had arrived with Poseidon, but he was not wearing his Heroes’ armor when she almost crossed that line. When she has the time to think, she always chooses the kinder option. Maybe all she has been through has slowly started killing that part of heart. She can still feel it there most of the time, but then the bitterness creeps back in. Is her heart is slowly turning to stone like the statues of the dead who came to claim her life? Will this side of her slowly be the part that wins and takes hold?

Psyche pulls a stone from the pocket of her robe-like attire. It looks like a moon opal, the speckles reflecting in the flickering candlelight. As she removes the folded blanket from behind him, Psyche gently lays him all the way down.

“Stay still, close your eyes, and let the moon magic in when it knocks. It will bring your fever down, but you will probably sleep again until we reach our destination. When we arrive, you will be blindfolded and taken to a secure, but comfortable, room until we can assess what level of a threat you pose to us.”

He acts like he is about to protest and then either is too fatigued or thinks better of it. She places the stone on his head and chants in a language Medusa does not understand and has only interacted with in some of the most ancient texts in the Temple library. She knows it to be a language of the gods and the softness of Psyche’s voice as the words come out in a hushed whisper soothes the part of Medusa that still refuses to settle down. A calmness washes over her and she closes her eyes and relishes it while Psyche finishes her incantation. When she stops, she feels his forehead and looks pleased.

“A drastic improvement already,” Psyche says, relieved. “Hopefully this will be a restorative sleep and the magic will accelerate his healing.”

Agatha appears with a bucket of water in one hand, a stack of cloths in the other. She lays the cloths on the table, sets the bucket beside the bed and grabs the first strip from the pile. Once dampened with the cool water, she presses it to his forehead and wipes his brow. Psyche and Medusa leave her to it.

* * *

They emerge backon the decks of the ship. Medusa once again breathes the fresh sea air in deeply, pushing out the last remnants of the stuffy, feverish cabin from her system. Another wave of guilt floods Medusa over what she almost did, and she is still grateful that it seems her shame remains a secret.

As they walk to the back of the ship and look over the edge. Medusa watches the water that the ship churns up in its wake. She finds the water tumbling over itself mesmerizing and easily slips into a state where all her thoughts fade away. She thinks about absolutely nothing as she loses herself to the oblivion for a moment.

When she brings herself back to reality, she finds Psyche staring at her. Psyche quickly looks away and almost looks embarrassed to have been caught. It’s rare for one to get a chance to observe such a dangerous creature so closely. Psyche’s curiosity must have gotten the better of her. Medusa pulls her cloak closed tighter to make as little of herself visible as possible. Was this oath a mistake? Is she ready to be the center of attention as everyone stares in horror, hides their children?

Psyche breaks the silence before things can get truly awkward. “We should get to the Isle close to sundown tomorrow. I know you will want to rush to see the Oracle but that will have to wait until the next morning. In the meantime, tomorrow evening I could show you around the Isle, give you a tour?”

“After a couple days at sea, walking around sounds great.”

Psyche smiles at her response, and continues, “Oh, I’m so glad. While we are out and about, we can also make sure you have some essentials. You didn’t exactly have the opportunity to bring very much.”

“That’s fair. Although I’m emotionally and physically exhausted, I can safely say I would prefer here with you and having nothing to being back on my island with my meager foraged possessions.”

Psyche’s eyes widen, and Medusa realizes what she said. Shame washes over her, and she amends her statement, “I mean here withallof you, notyouyou…” she trails off as opposed to digging a deeper hole. Despite the stares, Psyche has been kind to her. The last thing Medusa should do is chase her off by scaring her into thinking Medusa is attracted to her, even though she definitely is. But could she bear it if Psyche’s gaze turned to one of disdain and horror?

“Whatever you say,” Psyche responds with a wink and a chuckle. “However, for what it’s worth,” she says as she turns to walk away. She takes Medusa’s hand and says, “I very much like being here withyouyou. I look forward to more opportunities to get to know you.” And with that, she drops Medusa’s hand and walks away. Medusa looks at her hand in awe. It still looks the same but tingles, as if Psyche has Zeus’s electric touch.

What was that? What game is Psyche playing? Maybe Medusa is doing a poor job of hiding her attraction, and Psyche is toying with her.

Her heart aches as Medusa wishes she had met Psyche before. Would she have reciprocated this attraction? She does not want to have feelings. They serve no purpose for Medusa. No one will ever be willing to look at her and see beauty. Even in the cases that someone looks at her without hate or fear, their expressions are always full of pity or curiosity instead. How could anyone get past her scaly exterior to find out who she is without this awful curse?

Is whatever this is blooming in Medusa’s heart against her will, for Psyche, just going to get ripped away when Cadmus decides he wants her to pay for what she was about to do? Has she thrown away her chance to be with people again before she even really got it started?

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