Chapter 1
Chapter
One
CASSANDRA
“Have you heard of the Gorgons?”
Who hadn’t heard of the Gorgons? My thoughts circled on the memory of Perseus on my balcony moments ago, holding the head of my caretaker and friend, ending my peaceful era amusing the lady of the manor. He’d butchered her. Not even well.
I could still smell the reek of blood beneath the incense.
He launched into a description of the sisters. While he ranted about how they’d destroyed legions sent after them, I was trying to recall what the Gorgons had that was worth stealing. But there was nothing.
Which meant he was simply in it to prove his worth.
There was something extra icky about that. I much preferred middling men who proved their worth by building oversized statues with giant weapons and demure genitals.
“…but Medusa isn’t immortal,” he said, with such relish that I focused.
So, she was the target.
“…the head of Medusa,” he added, with gusto. “To free my mother!”
I let out the obligatory soft gasp, pressing my hand to my chest. “O Mighty Warrior, none have yet succeeded!” Or so I assumed.
“Ah, but none have had the blessings of Hades, Athena, and Hermes,” he began, and I kept a quiet tally of all these blessings various gods had bestowed upon him.
He’d simply been gifted these items, which was giving we know you can’t actually do a quest. Usually at this stage these men could ramble about their alleged heroics and their unironically disclosed cruelty for hours.
This one had already got to his sad origin story, as if being rejected by your step-parent was unique.
He was yet to mention why he wanted to kill a Gorgon.
I’d bet all my belongings that I’d participated in more epic quests than he’d had insightful thoughts.
I counted them all to be quite successful.
I’d experienced mazes and whirlpools, seen giants and magical beasts, and lived.
I was comfortable in my disdain for the men who went on said quests.
The men who, invariably, didn’t want to hear “Hey, that’s a stupid idea. ”
And what’s more, he hadn’t found me himself, like the temporary quest-drunk adventurers I’d been forcibly gathered by in the past. Oh, no. The fucking gods were sending these ambitious cumrags to me now. As if I hadn’t done enough for their amusement already?
“What say you, witch?”
I dragged myself back to the present. Had he already gone over the plan? No, my feet didn’t ache enough for that. Outside the cabin, shouts rose, and the air filled with the familiar sounds of the ship leaving port.
“Tell me what your plan is,” I said.
“My plan,” he told me, coming over, his footfalls heavy, his eyes boring into me, “is you.”
Again, I held in a sigh. I didn’t have any mythical foresight.
I simply took in information. I told them my only magic was borrowed; the veil over my eyes simply improved my poor eyesight.
Nothing more, nothing less. But there was no power in existence strong enough to educate those who refused to learn.
None of them wanted to believe me when I said it’s not magic, it’s just paying attention. Still, I should have tried. I knew I should. He was going to die. But playing along was easier, and I was tired.
“I’ll need time to view the possibilities before I can advise,” I warned him, simply acting the role he’d forced me into. “The more information I have about what’s possible for you—”
“Anything,” he breathed, in my ear, “is possible for me, sweet witch.”
My skin crawled. I pulled a face, stepping back.
“Not that sort of close, O Fearless Slayer of Beasts. It interferes with my powers and can cause unfortunate errors.” Such as a hero’s blood going to his cock instead of his brain, thereby getting himself killed.
Oversized egos were more threat than hard cocks to their survival, but they seemed unfortunately linked.
“I work best in close proximity to the destination, and with quiet around me to allow me to listen. Let me rest,” I told him.
“And begin my study. Send me the man in charge of your provisions when you’ve time. ”
“Such a mundane matter to waste magick on,” he scoffed.
“Many who fail do so not grandly, but due to simple oversights,” I warned. These short-sighted pantheon fodder, they never liked it when they didn’t control the narrative. “You will fight the Gorgon. Allow me to oversee the rest.”
There was not a single opportunity to escape in the handful of days it took us to reach the temple allegedly guarded by this monster. Perseus was impatient.
The mists curled around our feet and muffled the sound of the vessel docking at the long, well-kept pier. In the darkness, the temple loomed. Which deity it was dedicated to, I couldn’t tell. Hills huddled in the shadows behind it, and in the distance some faintly glowing lights shone feebly.
Villages didn’t usually prosper so close to a monster. Certainly not without blocking their windows.
Around me, the ship creaked with its load. Two hundred men. That’s what the quartermaster had told me.
Two hundred hardened mercenaries.
“What say you?” Perseus asked me, his voice too loud in the quiet.
None of the soldiers around us acted inappropriately, but one, in my peripheral, sent a long, meaningful glance at his fellow that made the knot in my belly tighten.
They’re ready to leave him. And if Perseus was ashore, and I was in a ship full of superstitious soldiers?
My skin crawled at the thought. I wasn’t the only one who knew his odds of survival and didn’t plan to go down with him.
“It doesn’t appear like any monster’s den I’ve seen,” I admitted. “May I come ashore, O Shining Sword of Justice?”
“Of course,” he scoffed, as if the thought of me staying aboard was ridiculous.
Relief rushed through me.
Monstrous as this Gorgon might be, I’d take her over two hundred mercenaries and the ship’s staff any day.
Perseus led the way off the ship, hovering through the air with his winged sandals.
The lieutenant joined us, his helm under his arm and his expression impassive.
The light of the moon was bright, contrasting with the mist to make our surroundings feel eerie.
I glanced up, but there were no clouds in sight.
All I’d need was a little darkness and I could slip away.
If Perseus was successful, I could always claim to have been stolen later.
Ahead of me he posed, propping his hands on his hips to survey the darkness before him.
“The lair of the beast,” he said, with a toss of his curls.
The lieutenant on his other side stayed silent as we looked at the long flight of steps leading up the hill before us.
It was early in the night, and the mist’s cloak was light higher up the mountain.
The brightness of the moon was a decided disadvantage.
While the mists might muffle some of the noise they’d make during landfall, even a well-trained force of two hundred would cause a racket. They weren’t all sneaking up on her.
While the strategic problems bubbled in the back of my mind, mostly I was focused on the irregular figures punctuating the mist. They weren’t placed correctly to be statues.
Of course I hadn’t forgotten what I’d been told about her turning men to stone, but while they weren’t arranged like statues, they certainly didn’t look like real foes.
These shapes took the form of men trying to sneak in.
They weren’t positioned beside the stairs, it was true, but they were spread in what seemed to me to be a pleasing fashion.
There were no piles of downed men frozen in place, no group of half a dozen stumbling over each other to get back to their ship.
“Many have failed here,” Perseus said gravely. “And yet, Athena herself sent me. She must believe in me.”
Athena liked a joke as much as the rest of the pantheon. “Of course,” I murmured, leaving his side to move through the mist. Whilst focused on the stone form of a man before me, I didn’t watch where my feet went and kicked something hard.
I froze and gritted my teeth as pain rushed through me.
“Hush,” hissed Perseus, his eyes going up the steps to the dark entryway above. “You’ll wake the beast!”
The throbbing agony in my toe made me want to scream, just to see if I could do as he’d said.
Instead, I looked down at the object I’d kicked. A wooden shield with a cracked, weathered leather covering and tarnished bronze studs.
No blood. No defense marks. I couldn’t see the lights of the village from here, but I remembered them.
It all just seemed odd.
I finished my limping journey to the statue to study it.
The man’s features hadn’t been lost to the weather yet, though the stone was pocked in places, and bird shit dribbled down one side of his face.
I suspected that was a personal comment.
I ran my eyes over him, studying the details of his clothing, his belt, the way he crouched low.
I’d seen plenty of excellent crafts in my time. I knew good stonework when I saw it.
This wasn’t magick. No more or less than I had. It was, however, very good artistry. But I could see the faintest marks left by the chisel still. She should’ve let them weather a little bit more, perhaps out on the mountainside. Also, the lack of piss-stained boots was a dead giveaway.
“You seek to destroy a mighty foe,” I said, thoughtfully. Because Gods forbid a woman has hobbies.
Perseus appeared beside me, full of determination. “I do,” he agreed, angling his hair so the wind caught it again.
“Tonight,” I murmured softly, holding my hand up to the moon, “is a night for truths.” I turned to him, one hand on the edge of my cloak.
It swished delightfully around my feet. “This Gorgon does not just decide the fate of you and your mother,” I told him, “but the entire kingdom. On her head they rise, or they fall.” He looked at me blankly.
I held back a sigh. “You could be king, if you kill Medusa,” I said, wishing he’d been just a little less incompetent.
“Your mother can live out her life in luxury, and you will rule with wisdom and strength.”
He looked up at the temple, brow lightly furrowed, and reached for Athena’s shield.
“Take heed,” I said, lowering my voice. “The light of the gods is bright, and this creature’s eyes are sharp.”
He nodded, but his frown deepened in puzzlement.
Beside him, the lieutenant said, with admirable patience, “It’s a full moon, O Mighty One. She’ll see us coming before we’re halfway up those stairs.”
Perseus scoffed. “Not if I go alone.”
His shield gleamed, its mirrored surface throwing back my own unimpressed expression.
I was too old for this shit. “You shine with the light of your quest,” I intoned, lifting a hand in a move that actually looked pretty graceful, at least in the reflection of his shield.
Maybe I wasn’t too old. Maybe I was just getting good.
I’d had almost four decades to learn this game, after all.
“That’s a lot of shining,” he said, with a candle’s worth of realization. “For a night incursion.”
We’re getting there. I nodded, lifting my hand further to point, with one finger, at the moon. “While her face is bright, she dims your own light. For you to have any hope you must return on a new moon, when the sky is dark. You must be the light, O Illuminous One.”
He looked at the statue beside me. “Or I’ll fail?” he asked. “I come back on the new moon, or…I end up like that?”
I shook my head. “Your fate will be more terrible,” I whispered. “I…cannot speak of it.” On the off chance he had an imagination, I’d hate to rob him of his dreams.
“The Wise Woman speaks sense,” the lieutenant said, to the side. “The new moon is only two weeks hence. Attacking under total darkness will be far more effective. With a little luck, we’ll have a good mist, too.”
So, their plan was to try to work with Perseus. Good to know.
I could see from the middling quest-goer’s expression that he didn’t like the idea. “Have we supplies to wait?” Perseus asked him, his eyes still on the temple. “There was an uninhabited isle nearby, yes?”
My heart sank. “Yes to both,” the lieutenant said. “My…Illuminated One.”
I resisted the urge to arch a brow at the lieutenant. That was my line. Still, I had bigger issues right now. Like two weeks on an island with more than two hundred men.
I couldn’t get back on that ship.
I let out a long, shaky breath. It wasn’t hard to feign unease. “I…I am afraid,” I admitted to them, clasping my hands. “I fear…”
Perseus turned to me. “What?” he asked, impatiently.
Fuck you. I straightened. “I must remain here. I must study the beast, and trust to my Sight.”
His eyes narrowed. “No.”
“It is not my wish either,” I snapped. “And yet…” I looked up toward the temple. “So much is at stake that I need time to correctly determine the threads needed to weave the victor’s tapestry. Listen.” I held up a hand to my ear.
The wind blew as softly as it had been since we landed.
“The gods whisper to me,” I murmured. “They will provide. Perseus must be successful.” I turned to him. “Do you hear them?”
“I am but a simple man,” he said, his shoulders straight. “But…if it is the gods wish…Apollo guided me to you, Seer. I will trust you in this.”
Fucking Apollo. I should’ve known. He’d tried to get me to call him Daddy.
Before they could think better of it, I knelt to Perseus, touching my forehead to the ground. “When the moon goes dark, I will be here,” I told them. “Waiting for your illumination.”
“Be safe, Seer,” he said, sharply. “I thank you for your service.”
As they crept back to the ship, I remained where I was, my toe throbbing painfully, mild surprise making me feel off-balance. Since when did a man thank me?
Since I told him what he wanted to hear, I thought grimly, sitting up only once I heard the creaking of rigging and the soft calls to set sail.
I blew out a breath. I wasn’t trusting the gods to look after me, that was for sure. I had two weeks to make sure I was Perseus-proof. That should be ample time.
My body creaked as I struggled to my feet, regretting the show of false humility. I had an artisan to find.