Chapter XVIII
XVIII
The walk back to the Acropolis feels far longer than the one into the city. In part, it’s because I’m walking uphill instead of down, and the alcohol still in my blood makes my steps clumsy. But I know there is another reason.
Poseidon.
He has stayed in his true form, but has subdued the golden aura about his skin. His trident has disappeared. Someone watching us would see a young man and young woman strolling side by side.
“Did you know?” I ask as we walk. “Did you know who I was when you saw me in the market? Is that why you helped me?”
“I did,” Poseidon admits. “I’ve been watching you for a while now, from afar.”
“You have?” I’m not immediately sure what to make of that. I am mortified, but…a small part of me is also honored.
Poseidon nods. “Your father is quite proud of you. He told nearly every god in the Sea Court that his daughter was going to be an acolyte for Athena.”
My cheeks warm. I’ve always known that my father is prone to self-aggrandizing, and the idea that Poseidon has heard about me that way embarrasses me.
Poseidon’s expression softens, as though he can read my thoughts. “You mustn’t be hard on your father,” he says. “He has every right to be proud of you.”
“I suppose.” My answer is noncommittal. “Did he ask you to watch over me, then?”
“No.” A new light touches Poseidon’s eyes. “I chose to do that myself.”
“Why?”
“You are of the Sea Court, the daughter of one of my subjects,” he says. “That makes you my responsibility.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure why, but that answer disappoints me.
Poseidon offers a sidelong glance. “You’re still wearing the uniform of an acolyte,” he notes. “I take it that means you’ve successfully passed your challenges so far?”
“Tests,” I correct. When the god raises a brow, I duck my head. “Apologies, my king.”
Poseidon smiles. “From what I’ve heard, these tests are quite difficult. Passing them is no easy feat.” He inclines his head at me. “You must be impressive.”
I am so surprised I stop walking. Until a short while ago, I hadn’t even thought that the king of the sea remembered my name.
Now I’ve learned that he not only remembers me, but he has been watching me, protecting me.
He thinks I’m impressive. I feel a familiar fluttering in my chest. I shift, suddenly uncomfortable, and Poseidon stops to look at me.
The skin between his dark brows pinches. “Did I…offend you?”
“No!” My voice rises several octaves. “No, not at all. It’s just…you’re the king of the sea. I didn’t think someone like you would find someone like me interesting.”
Poseidon smiles again. “I find you very interesting, Medusa.”
My breath catches. “You do?”
“Of course.” He nods. “You’re the mortal daughter of two sea gods. There are very few beings like you.”
If my elation were a candle, those words snuff it out in an instant. I look away but still feel Poseidon’s gaze on me.
“I take your silence to mean you dislike being mortal.”
“I certainly wouldn’t have chosen it.” Even I can hear the bitterness in my voice. “All being mortal has done is made life harder.”
Several seconds pass before Poseidon speaks again.
“Mortals are like flowers,” he murmurs, “fragile and fleeting, yes, but…” He stops walking to look at me.
“When a flower blooms, there is nothing more beautiful because it is real. We gods, we pretend to revel in our immortality, but the truth is most of us spend our eternities searching for just a glimpse of what a mortal feels: vitality, real and precious life. Never take that for granted, Medusa.”
I have no words to answer Poseidon’s. Never in my life has anyone—even Theo—made my mortality seem like something beautiful, something to be treasured and coveted. Poseidon offers me a wan smile.
“Forgive me,” he says. “We should continue home.”
Before I know it, the gates of the Acropolis are in sight. Its torches cast a pool of golden light onto the street, but we’re far enough away to still be hidden in the shadows.
Poseidon stops. “This is where I leave you, Medusa,” he says. “I’m sure you know your way from here?”
There is a slight teasing in his voice, but it isn’t unkind. I gather what little remains of my dignity and offer him an unsteady bow. “Thank you again for all your help, my king.”
We’re still staring at each other, neither of us speaking. I know this is the moment when we are supposed to say goodbye, but I struggle to summon the words. Poseidon’s expression has changed, too. He’s studying me now, like I’m a riddle he’s trying to solve.
“My king—”
He closes the gap between us, and his lips meet mine.
Heat arrows from the place our lips touch, warming my blood and coursing through my veins as his hands find my waist. My hands tangle in his hair as he pulls me closer, turns and presses me gently against one of the buildings’ walls.
When his tongue slips between my lips, a gasp escapes me, and I hear a growl, low in his throat.
His kisses come faster. He moves from my lips to leave a trail of them down my cheek, my jaw, my neck.
My heart beats wild and frantic in my chest, and some part of me wonders if it’s possible to forget how to breathe.
But when Poseidon pulls away, we’re both breathing hard.
“You should go,” he whispers. “Good night, Medusa.” Without another word, he turns, leaving me alone in the dark.
—
With every step I take, I am sure one of the priestesses will catch me, but I make it back to my sleeping quarters without being spotted.
By now most of the heady rush from the wine is gone, but a drowsiness hangs over me as I pull my chiton over my head and crawl into my bed pallet.
In the back of my mind, some nagging thought tugs, and I think vaguely of Apollonia still in the city.
She’ll be fine, some sleepy voice assures me, and the rest of my thoughts quiet as I lay my head on my pillow.
So much has happened in one night; I can barely believe that it has all been real and not some fever dream.
The thought that is most vivid in my mind is that of Poseidon.
I think of how he looked on that road, the way the starlight traced silver into his black hair. I think of the way he smiled at me.
I find you very interesting, Medusa.
The king of the sea thinks I am interesting. The king of the sea kissed me.
I’ve never been kissed before.
I turn to lie on my back as a warm buzz moves through my body that has nothing to do with the wine I’ve drunk.
I remember the way Poseidon’s lips felt, the way his hair grazed my cheek.
I find myself wondering how other things might feel.
I imagine his lips in other places, my neck, my shoulder.
I’m barely conscious of my hand moving, tracing the skin along my lower stomach, then drifting to the place between my legs.
I jolt at that touch, unsure at first as my fingers begin to move.
A strange new sensation runs through my body like a current, tensing and releasing as my fingers move faster—clumsy but determined.
I’ve never felt whatever this is before; I have no way to describe it.
I only know that I don’t want it to stop.
Instinct tells me that I am careening toward something, a great crescendo.
It is similar to how I felt when I was dancing with Apollonia earlier, but better.
My knees part on their own as a soft sigh escapes me.
I think of Poseidon’s face, of the way he’d called me beautiful, and my breath hitches.
There is a pause, and then that crescendo comes, frightening and wondrous, until I am utterly lost in its oblivion.