Medusa, A Love Story (Loves of Olympus 1) - Page 8

At the gate old Nikolaos hummed hoarsely, the embers of his pipe flickering in the dark. He sank onto his mat, settling against the wall for the night. He refused to sleep indoors, a fact that frustrated her aunt and amused her uncle.

Medusa glanced up at the stars, sparkling brilliant in the night. Their presence would be a fine companion to happy dreams, she thought.

There was nickering from the stables and the bray of a mule. Thea called, hunting perhaps? Fainter, further from the house, the tinkling bell of Nikolaos’ favorite nanny echoed as she led the herd to graze across the fields. These sounds of home comforted her.

A candle flickered in the guards’ house beyond the stables, catching her eye. She wondered if Ariston was awake. On a night like this, he must miss his home…

No. You will not think of him.

She forced herself forward, banishing thoughts of her guard. She thought on him too often of late.

As she rounded the corner, she blinked. Brilliant candlelight overwhelmed the majesty of the full moon and stars. The light, more candles than Medusa had ever seen, chased away the uncertainty of the night and forced all within the courtyard from shadows, to be displayed clearly.

As clearly as one can be, shrouded in dark veils and thick shawls.

Her sisters had little choice in their attire, she knew. But cloaked as they were, encompassed by black and grey robes, only heightened the air of menace their towering stature and filmy veils stirred. She knew why Elpis was intimidated – even her uncle was discomfited by their presence. She also knew that her sisters without their veils would be far worse.

“Sister,” Stheno and Euryale spoke as one.

“Good eve, sisters,” Medusa answered, smiling.

Uncle Galenus moved to her side. “Niece, your sisters have come from Corfu.” His loud voice echoed in the quiet of the courtyard.

Corfu was the westernmost isle of Greece, no slight journey. It did not bode well for her. Medusa said only, “You do me great honor.”

“We simply do our parents’ bidding,” Stheno answered, the hint of a smile in her voice.

“As a good child should,” Euryale added tartly.

Medusa waited, ignoring the barbed sting of Euryale’s insult. She was a good daughter to their parents. She always had been, no matter what Euryale might imply.

Had she not come here, to Galenus and Xenia, upon her parents’ bidding? Had she not entered Athena’s temple to beg for their salvation? And when Athena had granted them favor in exchange for Medusa’s service, had she not accepted without question?

But all her past deeds would be forgotten now. They had need of her once again. Why else were her sisters here?

“Have you eaten, child?” Aunt Xenia gestured towards the table. A small feast had been arranged to mask the underlying threat of this visit.

Medusa shook her head and made her way to the table, taking a fig and nibbling in silence.

Stheno moved forward, stooping to regard her from the depths of the black veils. Her sister towered over most mortals, yet Euryale was the taller of the two. As Stheno assessed her, two bright spots seemed to glow beneath the veils.

Medusa smiled at her sister, warmly. As a child, Stheno had loved her best.

“Our father believes he has given you time, Medusa, more than enough time to fulfill your obligations to Athena and to your…” Stheno paused over the tender terms Medusa had given her masters, “aunt and uncle.” Stheno’s voice softened as she added softly, “Come home, sister. We miss you.”

“And I miss you.” Medusa placed her hand on her sister’s arm. “But I’ve little say so about when I might return….”

Euryale interrupted, her tone ever sharp, “The Anestheria. You have until then to tell the Goddess you’re called home.”

Dismay flooded Medusa’s chest and stomach. How could she present Athena with such a decree? Athena was a Goddess – an Olympian. Athena might release her, when and if Athena chose to do so. If Medusa dared try such blasphemy, at her sire’s bidding or not, the cost would be great. A cost she would be forced to pay, undoubtedly, as her father would not see reason.

She swallowed the bite of fig she’d been nibbling. It stuck, thick and uncomfortable, in her throat.

“Why now, nieces?” Uncle Galenus boomed, causing all to jump.

“She won’t stay comely forever, dear Uncle. While the Gods thought to bless her with beauty and child-bearing, she suffers from mortality…” Stheno’s explanation grew more troubling. “Father fears her loss and seeks the gift of immortality for her.”

Euryale interrupted again, smugly this time. “Poseidon has offered –”

Tags: Sasha Summers Loves of Olympus Fantasy
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