Medusa, A Love Story (Loves of Olympus 1)

He’d heard her scream. “No…”

And then he’d opened his eyes and found himself here, with Hades.

“What offense did she commit to…to warrant such a punishment?”

Hades sat back in his chair, “I avoid Olympus, Ariston. I find it taxing more often than not. I know Medusa lay with Poseidon to protect you. When she learned of your death she went to Athena. She quarreled with the Goddess, something few have dared before. And in doing so she let loose Athena’s wrath.” Hades took a sip of his drink.

“Is there no reprieve?” Ariston asked.

“There is nothing you can do,” Hades shook his head. “Perseus comes soon. He will leave a hero and she will be free at last.”

He swallowed. “I cannot stand by and let her die…”

Hades stared at him. “You have no choice.”

“You cannot…”

Hades rose, his face devoid of any expression. “You would set her free. And soon she shall be. What life would she have, even if the curse was broken? Mayhap Olympus will favor her for all she has endured. She has a part to play in Perseus’ tale.”

Ariston tried to draw in breath, but his lungs felt tight.

“And with her death, you are free,” Hades added.

He turned to the God of the Underworld. “Let me stay.”

“The Land of the Dead is for the dead, Ariston.” Hades crossed to the fireplace. His brow furrowed as he peered at a wilt

ing bloom pinned on a white satin pillow. He stroked the stem with a hesitant finger and then drew back. “As you want her freedom, she would give you yours.”

Ariston’s eyes lingered on the flower, recalling the flash of tenderness he’d seen on Hades’ face. He had to try once more. “Life and freedom mean nothing without her.”

###

Poseidon watched, anxious for this to be behind him. As was Athena, he thought, and Zeus. Each of them had their own design for the day’s impending events.

“He has some skill with a sword,” Ares sounded skeptical.

“Enough?” Zeus asked.

Ares’ brow lifted and he shrugged.

“Have Hermes take this to him.” Athena held forth her golden aspis. “To keep him safe and give us eyes. We will see what he sees, hear what he hears.”

If Athena grieved for her favorite priestess, Poseidon saw no evidence of it. Perhaps Athena longed to forget Medusa – as he did. Her death would speed the forgetting.

Zeus took the shield, nodding at his daughter. “My thanks, Athena.”

“He will have your helmet?” Hera asked. “If he is invisible to her serpents, he will have the advantage.”

Hermes nodded. “He will. My helmet and Athena’s shield…”

“And this.” Zeus handed Hermes a sword, sheathed in a scabbard of gold. “Hephaestus made quick work of it. It will cut clean and true.”

Hera smiled. “He will not fail.”

So Hera had yet to learn of Perseus’ sire? If she had, Poseidon knew she would throw his gifts from Olympus and champion Medusa.

“And Ariston?” Aphrodite asked.