Page 63 of Heroines of Olympus

The metal of the bar is excruciating against Hestia’s skin as she extends her hand toward the bars. Alec quickly makes up the distance with his own, their fingers intertwining. She grits her teeth as the movement feels like razor blades slicing up her arms, but it does not matter. Hestia can give him this. Givethemthis.

A whimper leaves Hestia as Alec’s hand squeezes hers and she watches a tear run from his eye. Hestia hates herself for being the reason someone she loves, someone as strong and magnificent as Alec, is crying. Hates herself for being too selfish to make him leave. All of it is drowned out by the love she has for him and what his being with her for her final moments is doing to her soul. It will be easier to rest peacefully knowing, even if only briefly, that this great man loved her.

Hestia looks at Psyche, lying in this cage with her, immortality intact. There is still time for her.

“Alec.”

“What is it, my fire?”

“You have to go find the others. For Psyche. You have to help her. Don’t make this time with us together cost her life.”

“I can’t leave you.”

“Find them and come back to me. Please, Alec.”

He kisses her hand, letting his lips linger on her skin for several seconds.

“I love you, my fire.”

“I love you, too.”

His hand slips from hers and he disappears into the darkness of the tunnels once more.

40

MEDUSA

Medusa is lying in one of the nymph cages with her arms bound behind her. The stone floor is frigid and the thin fabric of her dress does nothing to shield her from it.

Well. This was a disaster. How could it have gone so horribly wrong?

Aphrodite had shown up right behind the guards, still wearing the blood-red lipstick Medusa remembers as a child.

Medusa recalls the way Aphrodite had called Cadmus “darling” and it makes her stomach turn. Did he betray them? Medusa has taken every opportunity to warn that he would, but she cannot bring herself to believe that it was him. Between Nicodemus and the man in the rabbit mask, this mission was doomed as soon as Nicodemus abducted Psyche instead of Medusa. How would things be right now if Medusa had gone with the captain? Deonn would still be alive. The crew would have still had access to Psyche’s protection. Psyche would be safe and out of harm’s way. How many people have to get hurt or captured because of Medusa’s mistakes before it is no longer worth it? At least on her island, missteps did not snowball into full-blown crises that affected people Medusa cares about.

It is a struggle to sit up between her positioning and bound arms. Medusa finally makes it to a sitting position and looks around. There is little light to see much of anything and she squints, trying to make out anything, to no avail.

Screams pierce the silence, and Medusa’s heart stops.Psyche. No. Medusa frantically looks for a way out of her cell until she hears approaching footsteps and stills.

There is the faint glow of a flame, getting brighter as the steps get closer and louder. Medusa braces herself for who might be about to greet her as her pulse thunders in her head. Will it be Aphrodite, or has Cadmus come back to gloat for fooling them all? The thought of seeing his smug face while being forced to hear Psyche’s torment is enough to make her rage, but that will help nothing. Medusa needs to come up with a plan, and fast.

Her racing mind fails to produce anything actionable as the lone figure approaches. Too tall to be Aphrodite, so it must be Cadmus. She’s imagining ripping him from limb to limb when his face materializes, and it’s… Nicodemus?

Medusa’s shock must be apparent because Nicodemus chuckles when he steps within a few feet of her cell, face fully illuminated now. The screaming has stopped, and Medusa hopes it is not merely a temporary reprieve.

“Why did you do it?”

Nicodemus laughs. “It is a pity I had to give Hestia and Psyche to the Pantheon, but it’s the only way they would trust me. A worthy price to watch you pay.”

“You did this because of me? You would betray the entire Allegiance because of ME?” Confusion courses through Medusa as she tries to put together the puzzle that is still missing pieces.

“But why? At least tell me that,” Medusa asks, even though she knows the answer is irrelevant and will not help get her out of there.

“Fine, you want to know why?” Nicodemus asks, rubbing his hand over his face. “Growing up, my family was the picture of dysfunctional. Both of my parents were abusive drunks,” he starts, lip curling up at the memory of them.

“What does this-?“ Medusa starts, but he interrupts her bitingly. “Do you want to know or not?”

When she nods, he continues. “My older brother was an absolute asshole. To everyone but me, that is. He was old enough to step in when either of my parents needed to be kept in line, and he took on the brunt of what they had intended for me. His name was Dorian.”

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