Elpis’ lowered her gaze in shame. “No. I am not brave, my lord.”
“But Xenia did?” he asked, his voice low and lethal.
She pleaded, “You cannot trouble her with this, my lord. She will be of no help, of that I can promise you. She does little but mutter nonsense, often too softly to be understood. When I do hear her, I wish I had not. Her mind…has twisted.”
“She was the last to see my wife, Elpis. I will speak with her in the morning. Once we set sail to Athens, I will speak with her.”
He would hold on to hope. Medusa had taught him that, above all things. He would find out what happened, and he would find her.
###
Poseidon drew in a deep breath, stunned by Athena’s announcement. In truth the Council Chamber was silent. Even Ares’ quick tongue was silent.
“What have you done?” Zeus thundered, with good reason, his voice reverberating amongst the clouds.
At least Athena had the decency not to challenge her father’s wrath. Her subdued response showed no sign of challenge, only regret. “She was in need of a punishment.”
Poseidon leaned back in his throne. He did not take kindly to the twist in his stomach or the flicker of conscience that worried the back of his mind.
This matter had nothing to do with him.
Medusa had dared to challenge a Goddess. Yes, Athena was the Goddess of Wisdom, but she was also the Goddess of Strategy. When challenged, Athena was quick to react – as evidenced by her reaction to Medusa.
“This is your idea of a just punishment, daughter? For whom?” Zeus bellowed. “How did she come to excite such a punishment from you?”
“She has… she has known a man – in my temple,” Athena declared.
“The temple now smoldering in ruins?” Ares asked, a scornful look upon his face. “If this mortal woman elicits such a response for coupling with a man in your temple, I look forward to the justice you will serve upon the Persians that destroyed your city – and your temple.”
“And burned every crop in the fields,” Demeter mourned. “Even if Persephone and I work as one, Greece’s people will suffer hunger.”
Zeus held up his hand. “The Persians will be dealt with by us all.” He leveled an angry glare upon his daughter. “Athena, you must see the error in this?”
Poseidon tensed, in anticipation and apprehension. Athena did not take kindly to being chided, especially in front of the others.
“I see nothing of the sort.” Her voice grew stronger. “To have used my temple thusly is low enough, but she dared to blaspheme the Gods, myself and Poseidon, too.”
Zeus looked at his brother sharply, but said nothing.
Poseidon held his tongue. This was not the time to confess his part in this tragedy. He was sorely tempted, but Athena’s lack of discipline made him quiet. This was what he wanted, to thwart his self-righteous niece, to outwit her in her own home. And he had.
He’d never considered that Medusa might speak out so. They had made a bargain, nothing more. He had underestimated her grief…and her love.
Damn her.
Yet she had no right to question Athena, to demand explanations. She was a mortal. She had been a mortal.
Now she was a monster.
“You will put an end to this.” Zeus stood, towering over Athena and trembling with rage.
“Father!” Athena’s face grew red and her lower lip quivered. “She has wronged me after I loved her so dearly. She has betrayed me. And…and she has made a mockery of her marriage and the man she calls husband.”
“The hero from Salamis,” Ares noted.
“The man Hades freed?” Aphrodite asked.
Apollo frowned at Athena in disapproval. “A man who deserves honor and respect from Olympus and his wife.”