Page 47 of Heroines of Olympus

Turning from the railing, Medusa makes her way back to the cabin, hurrying to make it back before they go through the Mysts. There have been more people kind to Medusa than scared of her, but she does not want to press her luck by frightening them with something has no explanation.

She rushes through the door and is surprised to see Psyche has followed.

“You didn’t have to come back down here with me. I’m alright.” Medusa says.

Psyche asks, “Something isn’t right. You can tell me. You don’t have to, of course, but like you, I’m an excellent listener.”

Medusa answers, “I had an interesting reaction to the Mysts last time we went through. You weren’t there with me and I forgot to mention it with everything else that has happened. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’m pretty sure it scared the people who saw it, and I don’t want that to happen again, so I came down here.”

“What kind of reaction?” Psyche asks gently.

“The Mysts began to glow and dance around my skin. It didn’t hurt, but it tingled, like static energy.”

“I’ve never heard of anything.“ Psyche replies but stops when the ship enters the edges of the Myst and she gets to see firsthand exactly what Medusa means.

The cabin fills with the dark mist, just enough so that they can still see each other. Psyche’s mouth drops open when tendrils of Mysts snake up and down Medusa’s arms and legs, glowing brightly in a beautiful shimmering silver.

Psyche reaches over for Medusa’s hand, but she hesitates to take it.

“It might not be safe,” Medusa urges. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I am a god. If I can’t withstand whatever this is, you have my permission to take it up with the Fates.”

That logic is questionable, but Medusa takes Psyche’s hand, hesitantly.

Psyche immediately glows, as the energy makes its way up to her head and her hair floats ethereally around her.

They stare at each other with shocked expressions when all of it suddenly vanishes, and they have made it through the Mysts.

Psyche breathlessly says to her, “I think coming down here might have been a good idea.”

* * *

Medusa lounges in the cabin,reading one of the books she brought with her. She is a few chapters into the Fae book,The Borderlands Princess, finding the alternate world fascinating and an excellent escape from the stress of the past few days. Her eyesight struggles a bit in the dim lamplight of the cabin, but that has never deterred her from diving into a good story before.

She is so engrossed in the novel that she jumps and lets out a small shriek when Psyche walks in the door. Psyche giggles at Medusa’s reaction.“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s what I get for being so engrossed in a silly book.” Medusa chuckles, closes the book, and sets it on the bedside table.

“It must be a pretty good one,” Psyche continues. “What’s it about?”

“It’s about a fictional world where these people called ‘Fae’ are at war against a great evil, but the more I read, the blurrier the lines seem to get between good and bad, except for the villain who is evil. It’s really quite fascinating.“ Medusa stops herself. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to ramble. How was your evening?”

“It’s not rambling. I enjoy hearing about things you enjoy, or thoughts you want to share.”

Psyche sits down on the bed next to her and Medusa is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that they will share this bed. The rapid beating of her heart is synced with the flapping wings of the butterflies in her stomach.

“My evening was good. I went over some things with Nico, making sure we are still on course.”

“I’m sure he loved that.” Medusa rolls her eyes, making Psyche laugh.

“The ego isn’t lacking on that one, is it? He’s fine if you just ignore him. Can’t argue with him being the best captain on the seas, but that doesn’t mean I will not be double-checking things when I can.”

Psyche walks over to the washbasin and pours some water in from the bucket they have in the room, taking a cloth and bathing herself lightly. Medusa watches as Psyche’s hands rub the washcloth against her shoulders, her collarbone, and her neck. Medusa continues to watch her dip the cloth back in the water, bringing it up her thighs between the slits in her dress. She turns around when she’s finished and Medusa quickly looks up at the ceiling, embarrassed to have possibly been caught staring.

Psyche walks over to Medusa, who is sitting with her legs over the edge of the bed, and gently grasps her chin, tilting it up until their eyes meet.

“If I had a problem with you looking, I wouldn’t have done it in front of you,” Psyche says while gazing into her eyes.

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