Chapter XXXV
XXXV
The goddess is still as beautiful as I remember.
I imagine what I must look like to her. My snakes have not eaten in days; some lie limp around my shoulders, while the more irritable ones snap at the air and weave erratically.
My peplos is torn and soiled. I reek of salt water, urine, and sweat.
Meanwhile, the goddess of wisdom, warfare, and craft sits upon a large rock on the shoreline as though it were her own personal throne, as though she has been waiting there for me for days.
Some part of me wonders if perhaps she has.
My knees threaten to buckle as I lift myself from the water.
My peplos is soaked and heavy, but I force myself to stand tall as I approach her.
A wave crashes against my back, nearly sending me tumbling forward, but I remain upright until I’m standing before her.
We survey each other in perfect silence.
At last, when I can suffer it no longer, I speak. “What do you want?” I don’t bother with civility, though instinct warns me I should be careful. Athena may pretend to be aloof, but I know better than most how sensitive she is to perceived slights, particularly from me.
Indeed, her gray eyes flash a moment at my insolence, and I wait for her to reprimand me.
Instead, she lets the silence between us build for several more breaths before she finally speaks.
“I thought of visiting sooner, you know.” She pretends to examine her fingernails.
“It’s been some time since I’ve set foot on this wretched little island. ”
I don’t know what game she’s playing, so I err on the side of caution and remain silent. Athena’s smile is cool, and a shiver stipples my skin.
“That was quite a performance you gave, back in Cyrene.” She nods to me as though impressed. “Seducing a man of faith and then killing him, in a temple no less. How honorable of you.”
“You know as well as I do that he was no true man of faith,” I spit. “He was abusive. He exploited the vulnerable. What I did was—”
“Necessary?” Athena smiles again. “You’ve always had a propensity for necessary violence, Medusa. In truth, it’s one of the reasons I was first drawn to you.” She steeples her fingers. “I wonder, though, does Apollonia share your appetites? I’m not so sure she does.”
Blood rushes to my face. The idea of Athena watching me and Apollonia like a voyeur at our most intimate moments sends a fresh new anger blazing through me.
“Further corrupting an already corrupted ex-acolyte,” says Athena. “I suppose you’ll tell me that was necessary on your part, too.”
I clench my fists, but Athena has already moved on. She stands, stretches.
“You and your sisters have built quite the reputation for yourselves.” She says it casually, as though we’re discussing something as trivial as the color of her robes.
“All around the world, great men and small ones whisper about Medusa and her sisters. The legendary Gorgons.” She offers a fake bow.
“It is so vindicating to know I was right about you after all, to know that my instincts, old as they may be, are still good.”
I know she’s baiting me now. I worked in Athena’s service long enough to recognize when she wants me to ask a specific question. I won’t give her that satisfaction and continue to say nothing.
She sighs. “I still remember the day you came to me,” she says, layering a touch of new fondness into her voice. “You were small even for a mortal, but you had the same resolve in your eyes then that you have now. I looked at you and knew at once that you were special. I was right.”
I want to resist, but something in me breaks. “What do you mean?”
Athena smiles. “I asked you how it felt, when you hit Maheer, and you told me it felt good. I remember the way you attacked Kallisto when she insulted Apollonia, the way you attacked a soldier in defense of someone you perceived to be defenseless.” Her eyes illuminate.
“There’s a rage within you. People don’t like for women to have rage, but I’ve always found it beautiful. I’ve always found your rage beautiful.”
I hate that, despite everything, I still crave her praise like a starved dog craves a morsel of meat. This time, when I don’t speak, it’s because there’s a tightness in my throat.
Athena’s expression softens. “You would have been a great priestess, Medusa,” she murmurs. “What a shame you had to throw it all away with your deviance.”
I thought I’d buried all the memories deep, but as soon as the words leave her mouth, I am back in the garden, the grass prickling my skin. I want to scream and cry and rage all at once.
“You really were my greatest disappointment.”
“All this time, I thought you were angry with me because I failed you,” I whisper, staring at my palms. “I understand now.” I look up at her.
“You weren’t angry with me because you thought I betrayed you, and you weren’t angry with Poseidon because he violated me.
” I shake my head. “You were only angry that Poseidon used something you thought belonged to you. Someone else used your tool.”
“And what a tool you have become.” I expected Athena to bristle at my accusation, to deny it.
Instead, she cocks her head, and there is an unsettling gentleness in that look.
“Look at you now, Medusa. You are strong, powerful, feared. All your life, you have looked for purpose. I could give you new purpose.”
I can’t help the doubt that crosses my face. The girl I was before Athena cursed me might have taken her words at face value.
The girl I am now doesn’t dare.
“You wouldn’t serve me as a priestess,” Athena continues. “But you would be something greater. The sick, the vile, the horrible people of this world, the ones who deserve violence. You and I could find them, punish them. You could leave this island again, see the world, and fight for a just cause.”
I cannot deny the appeal this idea holds. I hate Athena, but she knows me. She knows exactly what I’ve always wanted. Would it really be so hard, I wonder, to fall to my knees before the goddess of wisdom one last time?
But you would still serve, Stheno’s imaginary voice in my head says, and you would still be a tool.
My answer is instant.
“No.” I meet Athena’s gaze and hold it. “I want nothing else from you.”
Like that, the illusion shatters.
“You seal your own destiny, girl,” Athena says coldly. “And when you die, it will be brutal.”
“There are worse things than death,” I say calmly. “Maybe you’ll live long enough to find out.”
Athena’s face changes. The facade of cool indifference slips for a moment, and I catch a glimpse of what’s behind it. I see fear.
“Goodbye, Athena.” I turn from her and walk away. I don’t look back. I know in my heart of hearts I will never lay eyes on her again.
I don’t know the exact moment the air around me changes, the moment I realize I’m not alone anymore.
When I turn, I’m almost unsurprised to see Maheer’s lion stalking across the sand, the one the prince and his entourage brought to our island all those months ago.
Once, I might have been afraid of it, but in my new form, with my new strength, I am only curious as it approaches.
The creature seems to share my sentiments, because from a few feet away, it stops to look at me.
The lion seems more muscled, leaner than when I left for Athens, and I imagine it is because it has had to hunt for its food.
Its eyes shine like golden orbs in the evening light, and though it doesn’t move, I feel power emanating from it.
When I take a step closer to the beast, it doesn’t snarl or shirk away, and so I take a second step, and a third.
I walk until I am within an arm’s length of it.
I start to lift my hand to touch its black nose, but something stops me.
“You are not a monster,” I murmur. I don’t know if the words are for the lion or for me. “You are only what they made you.”
Life reunited with my sisters the second time is different.
They weren’t angry when they found me back in the palace, only glad I’d returned.
Neither of them asked me about Apollonia, and for that, I’m grateful.
I still believe what I did to protect her was the right thing, but that knowledge doesn’t fill the gaping hole left by her absence.
I miss so much about her, but above all things, I miss sunsets. I miss the laughter.
In the weeks that follow, men continue to come to the island.
Stheno and Euryale have not changed—I can’t say that I expect them to—and they still kill the men with relish.
Sometimes I join them, but more often than not, I stay in the palace.
Every so often, after they’ve gone inside, I’ll walk the shoreline and find some boy or man who somehow escaped the violence.
I tell them where to find the abandoned boats, and I send them off with food.
I don’t know how many of them make it, how many of them find their way home, but each time I watch them sail away, I hold out hope that they do.
I stay with my sisters for a month until, one night, I find them on the island’s shoreline.
Euryale is playing with one of her snakes, letting it coil and uncoil around her wrist. Stheno is stiller, almost meditative as she stares out at the open sea.
When they see me, they move to make room for me without saying a word, and I settle into my natural place between them.
I draw my knees up to my chest as Euryale starts to hum a sweet wordless song, one whose tune I’ve always known.
Stheno and I join her, finding its harmonies.
When it’s over, Euryale grabs my hand and squeezes.
We stay like that until the moon rises high in the sky, casting all three of us in soft, milky light.
Eventually, my eyes grow bleary and I announce I’m going to bed.
“Good night, Meddy.” Euryale rises, and kisses my cheek. “We love you. I hope you always know it.”
I do know. I kiss Stheno’s cheek and then make my way up the dunes and back to the palace. By the time I walk up the stairs to my bedchamber, I’m exhausted.
I settle into my bed, pulling a warm fleece up to my chin. Around me, the serpents on my head coil and settle, their hisses quieting like the sound of cooling steam. It’s a sound I’ve grown to find soothing, but something interrupts it. Even in the dark, I hear the echo of Athena’s words.
All your life, you have looked for purpose. I could give you new purpose.
There was a time when I might have believed that, the idea that someone else can give you purpose.
I’m grateful now to know the truth, that the only person who can give me purpose is myself.
As the world fades, I find myself wondering if perhaps purpose is not a single thing one finds, but rather a thing one finds over and over again.
I’m only eighteen, but I’ve already had so many purposes.
I have been a mortal girl whose purpose was to marry well.
I have been a priestess whose purpose was to serve.
I have been a monster whose purpose was to avenge.
I find that I’m excited to learn what my next purpose will be.
And that is enough.