83. A Son For A Daughter
"Quite impressive," Poseidon mused as he took in the outcrop.
Not a whiff of the death Moirai's essence leaked out of her sealed prison.
Was that strange for an old seal? He shrugged.
His task was to see how stable the seal was; anything beyond that was beyond his concern.
What mattered more was the serendipitous nature of Zeus' errand.
Turning from the rock, he faced Otrera. She stood stiffly and glared at him so hatefully that he couldn't help flashing a fat, satisfied grin. "You must forgive me for the excessive force, my queen."
She didn't stop glaring. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, with blood dripping and burning the earth with a tsss sound.
"You should have realised that I was on official duty when Zeus' chastisement didn't strike me upon my arrival. But you attacked instead." Holding his hands at his back, he cocked his head. "Have nothing to say? Hm?"
She was yet to wipe the blood off her face or fix her dishevelled appearance.
At least the chunks of hair he yanked off her scalp had grown back.
Such a needlessly stubborn woman. Leaping at him like a feral cat and hurling insults vile enough to set the mouth ablaze.
He had happily fought back, offering a thorough and humiliating defeat.
A pity her daughter was the only witness.
Speaking of her daughter, Hippolyta waited a short distance away, equally vibrating with useless rage.
He both loathed and admired these Amazons who found it easy to display genuine emotions.
That may have been one of the reasons he went on a rampage at their secluded haven centuries ago—it definitely had nothing to do with Ares.
"Why did you try to stop me from checking the seal?" He returned his focus to Otrera. "I half thought it was compromised, hence the spirited... violence." He offered a bow, hand placed over his heart. "I apologise for hurting you, my queen."
She spat at his feet, expression still twisted with vibrant loathing. "Now that you're done, the ban still stands. Get out."
"Ah-ah." He wagged his finger before strolling forward, not stopping until he crowded her space. "Let's focus on what truly concerns me. There's a breach in my and Demeter's oath."
She continued glaring at him, refusing to shrink away. "If it's your son you seek, he is with Ares. Why don't you go to him?" She cocked her head, gaze turning mocking. "Or is the king of the sea and mighty earth breaker scared?"
A pulse of white, hot rage washed over him. "Do not play with me."
He was torn between elation at feeling such a vivid emotion and striking her anew.
"I'm not above going on another rampage despite that insulting ban.
Have you not heard?" He allowed a small, spiteful smile.
"Powers and positions have shifted at the top.
Zeus will be more forgiving if a few of your precious mortals die by my hand. What? It all goes to Ambrosia, anyway."
The bitter hatred in her eyes. He wished it were possible to freeze such intense emotions and keep them displayed for future admiration.
"You rotten cretin."
"Rotten?" Poseidon chuckled. "How rich coming from you. Tell me, righteous queen. What flows in your veins?"
Was that shame he caught in her eyes before she looked away? This time, his laughter was genuine.
"It's no wonder you're in league with the red dog." He laughed again. Perhaps it was the horse part of her. The problem with deities with a little animal in them was a specific strain of naive foolishness.
Abruptly ceasing his laughter, he glowered at her. "Cease your games, Otrera. Where is my son?"
She stood straighter and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I do not know. And Demeter—"
"Demeter?" He scoffed. "Did you not hear the news? That wench now sits on Zeus' lap and whispers in his ear."
Her eyes widened, then swiftly narrowed. "Lies."
"I have nothing to gain from lying. All of Olympus shall come to know the truth during the Fate of Heroes anyway." That whore. He should have known something was off when Zeus accepted her pitiful offering at the binding ritual, even smiling at her with loving fondness.
"She now holds Zeus' favour." And crushed Athena while at it.
Who would have imagined Athena's fall would be so swift and brutal?
Ah, it was maddening. Learning that Demeter was the one who revealed everything to Zeus had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He had assumed he was the only one Athena had approached, but he was mistaken.
According to Demeter, Athena had approached her as well, offering a list of benefits she never even offered Poseidon.
Athena had railed, alleging conspiracies and lies, but her impassioned pleas and claims bounced off Zeus.
There was too much damning evidence against her.
In everything, Poseidon still couldn't understand why Demeter claimed he had colluded with her to reveal Athena's treachery.
What was her plan? The woman was too hateful and vindictive to do him any favours, not after what he did to her not too long ago.
Zeus applauding him and making him the master of the games, why did it feel like an axe waiting to drop?
Poseidon chuffed, dismissing his worries.
What could that walking vegetable do? He had easily subdued her in the past, and he would do the same again if the need arose.
What mattered was that Demeter couldn't go back on her word and implicate him.
They were in the same boat now—the exposers of treachery who brought down Athena the beloved.
Now, back to getting his son. "Demeter forewent the oath the instant my son left House Ares. Bring the boy to me now."
Otrera stonily stared at him. "I swear by the Monolith. He isn't here."
Poseidon cocked his head, holding her gaze and searching for lies. She did swear by the Monolith. "Then where is he?"
"I do not know."
His fingers twitched with the urge to strike her. "Do not lie to me."
"I swear by the Monolith that I do not know where the boy is," she replied frostily.
"Ha." Poseidon sighed to the sky. Should he do it? The last time he visited, he had caused an earthquake and harvested thousands of mortals. His gaze travelled to the daughter. Ever stone-faced Hippolyta. An interesting idea tickled his mind. Maybe...
He flashed to her side and casually draped an arm over her shoulders while grinning at Otrera. "Here's what will happen."
Staring at the spot his hand rested, Otrera took a step forward. "Let her go."
"You have until the day before the games. Stay still," he spat when Hippolyta attempted to rip off his grip. Facing Otrera once more, he continued, "If I do not have my son by the time the sun sets, I'll take this stiff daughter of yours."
A great pulse of aether travelled from Otrera and washed over Poseidon. He basked in the wave.
"Let her go." Though her expression remained calm, her full hair whipped wildly around her face.
"Look at you killing me with your eyes because I touched what's yours.
" He brought his nose to the crown of Hippolyta's head and inhaled deeply.
All the while, he maintained eye contact and savoured the heady storm of Otrera's fury.
"Yet, you kept my child from me. Only the Monolith knows what rotten things you and your horse maidens have done to my poor, helpless son.
He is quite handsome after all. And young. " He clicked his teeth.
Hippolyta trembled in his grip, and he guessed it wasn't from fear. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose. Not like it'd matter in the end. If he could subdue Demeter, what was this weak little doe? He held her chin and forced her to look at him.
The acid in her gaze. He smiled at that. "This expression." He pecked her cheek and whispered. "I like it. Have it on when I come for you."
He finally let her tear away from his grip. Chuckling, he offered Otrera a final bow. "Later, my queen."
"How do you feel?" Phorcys asked Medusa.
He was seated across her with his legs folded, and she mirrored his position along with a series of breathing exercises.
This was the first lesson she had received from him, and it was...
good. He was far better at teaching than Clotho, explaining things with gentle patience and no words in Theos Tongue.
Yesterday evening, the same day she defeated the ekhidna, he invited her to a large hall and introduced three lessons.
The first was what she finally got a grasp on this afternoon, almost a full day after.
It was a method to suppress her essence so she would come across as a mortal, blood carrier, or low deity.
According to Phorcys, it was one of the first things a low deity learned upon crossing into immortality.
"I feel..." Medusa searched herself. She could sense her aether reserves and the key, but there was also a sort of barrier around them. "I feel contained?" That was the only word she could use to explain the feeling.
Phorcys nodded. "For immortals whose tether to their emotions is intact, it is somewhat easy to hide their immortality from mortals. But for those with their tethers partially or totally severed, it is far easier to deceive mortals into believing they're fellow mortals."
"Why?"
"Because heightened emotions cause essence leaks, what you may know as aether flares. Some flares are powerful enough to possess colour or burn."
Was that what happened with Ares on the day of that ritual? The air around him had been red and riotous. And she was familiar with aether flares. Clotho had persistently warned her to get a hold of volatile emotions whenever they triggered a flare.
"If mortals can pick up on that, how easy will it be for Zeus? Even the slightest shift is enough," Phorcys said. "As for you..." He appeared thoughtful. "So far, you appear to have a firm grip on leaks, but we would have to remain watchful. How are your emotions lately?"
Well, the key helped to keep a dome of logic over them. But her emotions were very much present, sometimes strong enough to breach the key's influence. She hoped this new method would act as a sort of double lock.
"They're present." Thankfully. "Before now, I could mostly keep them suppressed."
He nodded, seeming somewhat relieved. It was hard to tell what he truly felt, judging from that persistent stoic expression. "Then we should be safe."
Hopefully.
Soon, she would be standing before a crowd of deities at the games, moving undetected until the right moment was very important.
"You said some deities can completely suppress their essence. Doesn't that mean gods can disguise themselves as players at the games?"
Phorcys waved dismissively. "Zeus will know and severely punish them."
"How?"
"The Monolith. I don't know how he uses it, but I am certain it's the Monolith."
She needed to be fast with finding its location.
So far, her curse has given nothing—not even a clue.
The same went for breaking the general's oath.
It was maddening how stingy she was with important information.
The more she knew, the more she'd be able to protect herself and her family from Zeus.
Did her curse not understand that? On the day of the games, even the slightest suspicion from Zeus could—
She smothered the rise of panic in her guts.
He will not discover I have a key. He will remain in the dark until I strike.
Still, she couldn't help asking. "If Zeus can find deities who pretend to be mortal at the games, doesn't that mean he may discover that I'm not...
" What? Not mortal? But I'm mortal. Am I? Why is it so confusing?
"He will not know," he replied calmly.
"How are you so certain?" Did he trust her abilities that m—
"The Moirai said so."
Medusa suppressed a snort. Such blind faith in the Moirai's words was suicide. She had witnessed first-hand Clotho's prediction fail when it came to Zeus. Or maybe Clotho had seen that her father would help her now, hence the confidence. Maybe.
"What do I feel like to you?"
"A weak little mortal." He patted her head before he stood and offered her a hand.
Medusa had reverted to her ten-year-old form because Phorcys believed it would be more effective to practice with a much younger body.
They had repeated the process, with her shifting from mortal to blood carrier, then low deity.
The most important was blood carrier since that was the appearance she planned to project at the games.
They began making their way to the door.
"Will you go with the boy to the cave?"
"No." Visiting that place was something she had to do alone.
Matter of fact, she would be heading there now.
No point stalling. Besides, she needed a distraction.
It was late afternoon already, and she was seriously considering attacking her aunt to kill Perseus.
The fact that he was alive remained an uncomfortable itch at the back of her mind.
With him being so close, the compulsion was near maddening.
"It would be better to move in your gorgon form," Phorcys said when they reached the door. "It would keep the beasts away. And try to return early. Your mother and I would love to have dinner with you."
Medusa nodded and waited until he strolled out of sight before turning to the south. Smoothly shifting to her first gorgon form, she drew a long breath and leapt ahead.
There was no need for a map. Since she arrived at the island, the cave had called, and she had resisted.
Now, she gave herself to the pull, leaping from tree top to tree top at blinking speed.
Soon she reached the shore and dived without a second thought.
A burst of speed-swimming after, and she was before the mouth of the cave.
For some reason, her heart raced in her chest, thumping heavily behind her ribcage.
She took long strides. No pauses. A bend here, a second turn to the left, and she was standing on the exact spot where Perseus had slain her.
Then the space had been more cramped. Stone people standing about, her silent companions who listened to her monologues during the unending days of her banishment.
Many had shattered at the mouth of the cave when Perseus made an appearance.
He had been terrifyingly strong, dishing a defeat that came too easily.
The moment the sword made a clean slice, she had been seized by an instant, consuming terror of death.
By then, her lips were unable to whisper a plea, but her eyes leaked tears as he grabbed her head and shoved it in a sack.
From then on, it was darkness and a wiped memory.
Her encounter with Perseus in her first life had been brief.
All through her lives, she had viewed him simply as a better hunter who won against a weaker one.
There had been only fear and no hate, until...
until he found her. The Monolith knows she wouldn't seek his life if he hadn't so brutally shattered the only true happiness she had. And the needlessly excessive cruelty.
That bastard took everything from me and turned me into a beast of revenge.
What... What's next after all this?
If I kill him. If I kill all the gods. When I have all the power of the Monolith in my hand, what next?
I can't even bring him back. Why am I doing all this when I can't even bring Anthonii back?
A sudden wave of weary hopelessness crushed her soul.
Shifting to her second gorgon form, she slithered to the darkest corner of the cave, curled into a tight ball and rested her head on a fold of her trunk.
Since meeting her parents, she had stopped using saltpine bark, but he wouldn't even appear in her dreams. Medusa shut her eyes, fighting the tears.
Soon it would be the anniversary of his death on earth.
Perhaps, I should burn some incense for him...
She reared up, focus swerving in the direction the voice came.
It had to be Lachesis. She sounded exactly like the voice in that vision.
Uncoiling from her spot in the corner, she shifted to her first gorgon form and retraced the path as she recalled it.
Soon she was between a familiar press that smoothly widened, allowing passage.
The drop off ahead didn't take her by surprise like the first time.
When she reached the bottom, she noticed a big difference.
Instead of a small, white-haired girl wielding a ruler, a grisly image greeted her.
Unlike Atropos, who was merged with a stone slab, thistles coiled around Lachesis' body like a gruesome body suit.
Yet, she sat at her dilapidated hovel with a big grin on her face as she eagerly waved Medusa over.
"Come sit. I've been waiting forever for you to join me."
"I... yeah." Medusa walked over in a daze. It was impossible to look away. Thin rays of light spilt from the thorn stab points, yet she moved as if she wasn't in pain, providing two cups and pouring them a drink.
"Don't look at me with sorrow. I'm not in pain," she said with a breezy tone.
"Ah, I see." Medusa took her cup and stared at the red liquid it held.
"Surely you'll drink mine." Her smile turned expectant. "I saw you take Clotho's cup."
"Perseus is on the island," Medusa said instead.
She nodded as she took a sip from her cup. "I saw. Clotho sent him here."
"Do you know where Clotho is?"
"Why haven't you killed the boy?"
It seemed they were playing a game of deflection then. Medusa gave up. "My aunt said I should fight her for a chance to kill him."
"Hmm." She appeared thoughtful for a moment before looking at Medusa with wide, imploring eyes. "Then do it. Fight her."
Medusa released a hearty chuckle. It was odd how the Moirai sometimes came across as disarmingly childlike.
Even now, there was the temptation to pat her head and assure her she'd solve her Perseus problem.
She pointedly avoided her pleading gaze before she made a foolish promise.
There was an unshakable feeling in her gut that her aunt would crush her if she attempted to fight her.
With Poseidon, it had taken months of training and planning to entertain the thought of facing him.
"Where is it?" Medusa looked around the wide space. Unlike the case with Atropos, something was missing. "Where's your ruler?"
Her smile fell along with her shoulders. "Perseus stole it."
That can't be right. "How did he get to you?" She was under the impression that her aunt kept him restrained since they arrived Sarpedon.
"Not in this life." She waved her hand, and her ruler appeared in her grip, but it wavered in and out of existence before vanishing.
A small frown squeezed her brow. "The monolith touched that boy.
When you lived as a head, there was another great war between the so-called gods.
As those fools battled for dominion over the monolith, Perseus had another goal.
He had formed a wicked plan after he learned the bitter truth of his birth. "
"His birth?" Her curse made no mention of this.
"Yes, his birth." Lachesis nodded solemnly. "On the night he was conceived, Zeus wore the face of the man Perseus believed was his father."
No way. Medusa shook her head.
Lachesis nodded as if reading her mind. "It is as you think. Perseus is Zeus' biological son."
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