85. The Titan In The Room
"Your hand is shaking," Akrivi whispered from his spot next to her.
Medusa looked at the hand in question, watching as the two-pronged fork trembled in her grip.
Well, the shaking was out of her control.
Since draining the Monolith vein that afternoon, it had been a struggle to settle the energy churning on her insides, coupled with the fact that she intended to murder a person tonight.
"It's cold," Medusa replied dryly.
Akrivi gave her a dubious look. "Cold?"
It was a pleasantly warm evening, with the sun just beginning to set as they gathered for dinner outdoors. Her parents took the head of the table, with Phorcydes and Lela seated across from Medusa and Akrivi. Rico sat at her feet, gnawing at a large slab of red meat.
"You're shaking because it's cold?" There was a subtle note of incredulity in his voice.
"Yes." Medusa took a bite from her honeyed roast pheasant. It tasted like paper on her tongue; she chewed carefully anyway and continued to consider escape options. How much longer until it was okay to leave? What excuse would be permissible?
Akrivi continued to observe her with a sidelong look. "Something's wrong. You're tense. And one of your snakes keeps hissing at me."
"Fine. I'm tense." Medusa swept the offending snake over her shoulder and exhaled a long, calming breath.
Since Akrivi noticed something was off, others at the table must have as well.
She glanced at her parents. Phorcys ate in his usual silent, efficient manner.
Ceto hadn't spoken a word save for a subdued greeting upon Phorcydes' arrival.
It seemed being in her sister-in-law's company put her on edge.
Phorcydes, on the other hand, was the only lively one at the table.
As she ate, she chatted about her progress with Perseus.
I'm so sorry, aunt; I'll have to ruin that progress.
Medusa dropped her fork and emptied her cup of diluted wine.
The Monolith energy had barely settled in her, yet she must find a way to outsmart her aunt and kill Perseus in a single night.
What set her even more on edge was how the key flared in her chest.
The breathing exercise her father taught her helped, but she could feel the strain.
"Are you worried about the games?" Akrivi asked in the same hushed tone.
"It's in less than thirteen days." It'd be better for her if everyone thinks the coming games have her on edge.
"You know..." Akrivi kept his attention on his plate. "I asked Queen Otrera about the death rate. It's high. Not that I think you'd die or anything. Just... have eyes at the back of your head. You know some contenders cheat?"
Medusa nodded. "I heard."
"So, cheat too."
A dry laugh escaped before she could help it. This was the second time today someone was telling her to cheat. "I'll keep that in mind. So don't..." Her words faded when she noticed Phorcydes had stopped talking and was looking at them.
"Cheating?" She cocked her head as if considering a thought. "From what I saw you do to the ekhidna, there wouldn't be a need for that. If everything goes as it should, you'll likely win."
"You think so?" It wasn't like she could use petrification or draw from the Monolith essence at the games.
Phorcydes nodded. "As a long-time observer of the games, it gets easy to predict such things."
That wasn't enough to make Medusa relax, though. Zeus was a variable capable of overriding the Moirai's foresight. "I see."
"So..." An intense stare replaced her smile. "What will you ask of Zeus if you win?"
Medusa blinked at her aunt as silence descended on the table.
"What?"
"Tell me what you plan to ask Zeus if you win." Phorcydes' tone was matter-of-fact, as if such information should be readily shared. "Is there a deal with Otrera? Since you're representing her, is she forcing her desire on you?"
"No."
"So what's your wish?" Phorcydes pressed.
No one, not even Clotho, could strong-arm Medusa to share her wish. "I can't tell you that."
Phorcydes chuffed and was about to reply when a soft, subdued voice edged in.
"But I thought you promised to..."
All eyes fell on Lela. When she noticed the attention, her eyes widened. "I-I was speaking to myself. Don't mind me." She reached for her goblet, took a big gulp, only to choke and fall into a coughing fit.
"Oh, dear child." Phorcydes' gaze softened as she patted Lela's trembling back. "I did my best to train you with the short time we had, but my niece has become a god killer."
There was something about the way Phorcydes said 'god killer'. Almost as if it was an accusation.
"Now that Lela cannot win and make Zeus free my brother." She returned her attention to Medusa. "I suspect you will not use your wish to free your father. No?"
"Stop it," Phorcys finally spoke. "This is neither the time nor the place."
"Oh, but it is." Phorcydes' wrinkles deepened as her emotions rose. "Are you so sick of living that you have now accepted a life chained to these thorns?" She gestured at his neck. "Would you disregard my attempts to free you?"
Phorcys' expression remained flat. "I never asked for—"
"Do not say it." Though Phorcydes' green eyes flared with rage, the air around her remained surprisingly calm. "You're so consumed by revenge that you've forgotten how to live. I challenged that bastard, swearing by the Monolith to free you, and this is the choice you made at last?"
When she said this, she glanced in Medusa's direction.
"Is this how family dinners go?" Akrivi asked under his breath. "Is this normal?"
Medusa nearly said yes, if she went by the few dinners she had with Antonii's family. "I don't think so," she whispered instead.
Looking at Ceto, the way she ate quietly with a blank expression, reminded her of herself when she was in the same room with Antonii's sister.
For reasons she could never name, Elena treated her with open suspicion.
For years, Medusa harboured an irrational fear that the woman somehow sensed her brother was married to a mass murdering beast.
"You continue to overstep, sister." Phorcys' gaze turned cold as he abandoned all pretence of eating. "I never asked you or anyone to seek my freedom."
A ripple of hurt flashed across Ceto's face.
Phorcydes stonily glared at him. "You think I care whether you asked for freedom or not? I'm doing this for my own satisfaction. Mine!"
She smacked her chest. "Have you forgotten who you were before this... this slavery? No family of mine will be held captive by that bleached swine. None! You will be free, Phorcys."
She swung her focus to Medusa. "And you."
"Yes?" Medusa instinctively sat straighter and forced a blank expression.
"What's the plan? After you win that idiotic game, do you intend to kill us all? Every single immortal?"
Medusa blinked, not at all expecting the question. "I—"
"Because, strange as it may sound, I do not wish to die just yet. I know. I know." She flicked her wrist. "What's a hag like me doing still clinging to life? Such shameless selfishness. But the more I think of it, the more I realise I'm not prepared to die by my niece's hand."
"Phorcydes..." There was a warning note in Phorcys' voice.
Ceto appeared on the verge of tears, and Akrivi wouldn't stop bouncing his knee. Medusa, on the other hand, maintained her blank expression.
"It's important we ask these questions, brother. What?" She glanced at Phorcys. "I know you and that butterfly are tired of existing. Fortunately, I am not of that mind. Yes, I follow the Moirai, but death is not what I seek—death was not what she offered me."
Medusa frowned. "So, you wish to live forever?"
Phorcydes shrugged without a shred of shame in her demeanour. "I love living. And unlike them, I'm not tormented by the thought of existing without an end."
"Phorcydes, the Moirai—"
"The Moirai is not here!" She slammed a fist on the table. Medusa expected the entire thing to collapse, but only the silverware rattled. "And even if she were here listening, I doubt she would be offended by my words. Who made death the goal?"
"That's enough," Phorcys said, sounding exhausted. "Death is the end of every mortal. We are mortals who have cheated death long enough."
"I did not cheat," she spat. "I was forced into this existence and have found that it's not as loathsome as you see it."
"You say this knowing what Ambrosia is?"
"Do you know what Ambrosia is?" Phorcydes threw Medusa's question back at her.
"It's in the air you breathe, the water you drink. It's in the bloody aether you so generously use, you naive child. Zeus used Cosmolith's core as a chalice that drinks death and belches tainted life. It has infected everything."
A ringing went off in Medusa's ears. Lies. Phorcydes had to be lying to ease her conscience. But now that she thought of it, Clotho never shared the process of how Ambrosia works, only that it's the source of deities' immortality.
"There has to be a way," Medusa said calmly even though her insides trembled with doubt. "I'll fix it."
"And by fix it you mean kill every immortal with your gaze of death?"
"Yes—I mean, no. No."
In the end, she'd end them all. Wasn't that her initial plan?
Suddenly, she recalled Lachesis' words. If the goal is to end the gods, do not think your family will be spared.
Clotho was also against killing all immortals.
But even if the Moirai were jointly in support of killing deities, could Medusa do it?
If she openly challenged Zeus, how could she possibly fight every immortal that held the same view as her aunt?
She had assumed, foolishly so, that all on the Moirai's side were also okay with ending their immortality. But that may not be the case.
"Yes, you have a lethal weapon against immortals, but you have forgotten that there will be far more of those who do not wish to die. They do not hold my brother's suicidal vengeful ideals. They have no honour. No love. No care for family ties.
Zeus wouldn't need to do much to gather an overwhelming supporting force, coupled with his hidden army we keep hearing about. You will be crushed."