Bloodsinger (The Fire That Binds #2)

Chapter The Myth of Euryale

THE MYTH OF EURYALE

When Medusa was violated by the god Neptune, her two sisters Euryale and Stheno cried to the heavens, mourning with their sister for her pain and loss.

The goddess Minerva heard their cries and descended to the temple.

In recompence for Neptune’s wrongs, she bestowed powers of protection upon each of the three sisters.

When Minerva placed her hand upon Euryale’s head, she said, “I bestow upon you the gift of the siren. Any man whose blood you taste will fall at your feet and do your will. Even if you command him to die, he will do so.”

Euryale did not understand her gift, but Minerva bid her and her sisters go out into the world and protect all innocents using the gifts she’d given them. Obediently, they set out on their quest.

Of the three sisters, Euryale had always been the most full of joy. But because of recent events, she lost her smile. Still, she wanted to serve Minerva, so she set out on her own.

After a fortnight of wandering, she came upon a kingdom deep in the heart of the forest along a mighty river.

There were thatch-roofed houses and a tall palace at its center.

Women were weaving intricate baskets, painted with a figure she did not recognize—a king with a golden crown and a jeweled cloak.

They paid her no attention as she wandered through the village.

Upon sunset, a line of men—faces and bodies filthy with dirt—entered the village under guard of soldiers wearing armor and swords, some of them hauling satchels over their backs.

“Where do you come from?” Euryale asked an older man with kind but weary eyes.

“From the mountain.”

Euryale then noticed the mountain looming over the forest in the near distance.

“Why do you go there?” she asked.

“To dig jewels for our king. You should leave this place at once,” he warned.

Euryale shadowed the line of men as they continued to march in a line toward the palace at the center of the village. She remained out of sight in the line of trees from the guards as she followed them.

When they reached the palace, they lined up in a square around a stone dais.

A horn blew, then the giant doors of the palace opened and out stepped the king.

His tunic dripped in glittering gems that sparkled in the afternoon sun, as did his golden crown.

He marched up the dais and sat upon a cushioned throne.

“Who must we punish today?” he shouted.

The armored guard in the front took hold of the brawny man’s arm at his side and marched him up the stone steps. Though the guard and villager were equal in size, there was defeat and hopelessness in the hunched shoulders and downcast head of the villager.

“This one, my mighty king. He found the fewest jewels for your coffer today in the mine.”

The king frowned menacingly at the large man and nodded his head. “Then let his punishment begin.”

The guard pushed the man to his knees, tore open his shirt, then pulled out a scourging whip and prepared to beat him.

Euryale felt the power of Minerva surge up inside her. She strode out of the shadows and up the steps in her pale green stola, her soft beauty out of place in this horrible, hard village.

“Stop!” she called before the guard could give the first lash.

All eyes swiveled to her as she ascended the steps to the dais. The king bellowed in his deep, furious voice, “Who dares to stop my nightly ceremony? Who do you think you are, woman?”

“Who do you think you are, mighty king?” She laughed in derision. “You take all and give nothing but pain.”

His puffy face reddened with rage. “Seize her!” he commanded. “Let us show this stranger what we do to those who defy me!”

The giant guard threw down his whip and stormed over to Euryale. She waited until he grabbed hold of her throat.

“You think to beat me?” she asked softly.

The guard froze, disturbed by her lack of fear. While he was distracted, she slit his arm with the tiny dagger she kept on her at all times. He jerked backward, letting her go while he looked at the injury.

But it was too late. She’d swiped a finger along the cut. When he looked up, she opened her mouth and smeared the blood on her tongue. Minerva’s power sang through her veins.

Without hesitation, she commanded, “Kill your king.” Her voice echoed with godly power.

The guard pulled his sword and took three long steps to the throne, then impaled the king where he sat. The king’s eyes flew wide in shock, then he fell from his throne, dead.

No one moved, too shocked to do anything, as Euryale ordered, “Now kill all of the guards.”

While he marched down the steps, the other guardsmen drew their swords to fight him.

Euryale then sliced the shoulder of the villager, who was still on his knees. He flinched but looked up at her with awe and fear. She licked his blood from her finger, ensnaring him instantly.

“You no longer fear them. Now you must kill those who enslaved and used you and your women. Kill them now.”

The brawny villager picked up the whip, walked down the dais, and strangled one of the guards.

A short battle ensued where the villagers rose up with their fellow man, and alongside the head guard, they killed all of those who’d kept them shackled and enslaved.

When all was done and there was nothing more than a pile of dead enemies, Euryale ordered the final guard to kill himself. He did instantly, slitting his own throat, while the village women watched. Euryale then walked to the edge of the stone dais.

“You.” She pointed to the elder with kind but weary eyes.

“You will be the new leader of this village. But if you or any man here forgets the pain you’ve endured and decides to become a mighty king like him”—she pointed to the glass-eyed dead man—“then I will return. And I will punish you like I’ve punished him. ”

In silence, she descended the steps and walked through the sea of villagers, the men bowing their heads in reverence and the women kneeling at her feet as she passed.

Then one young girl with a brutal scar across her face—one done by a whip—tugged on Euryale’s gown. “Please don’t go. Please stay with us.”

She cupped the girl’s sweet, scarred face and said, “I cannot, dear one. I must continue on my quest.”

“What is your quest?” she asked.

“To stop those who do evil and punish them.” She patted the girl’s cheek, cherishing her adoring expression. “So that girls like you have a chance at happiness and a life of their own.”

Then she walked on into the forest, seeking the next village.

As the power of Minerva diminished, hiding away inside her until she needed it again, Euryale exhaled a heavy breath, justice and joy filling her up inside. And she smiled.