Medusa, A Love Story (Loves of Olympus 1)

Poseidon tore his eyes from Aphrodite. All were held captive by her tale, for her telling of Ariston and Medusa’s reunion was magical. He cursed the pull he felt upon his heart.

“She is reunited with her husband.” Hera wiped tears from her cheeks.

“She has found peace,” Aphrodite murmured. “And all are satisfied.”

“What of Hades? His mood of late is most perplexing. Is he content to lose Ariston in such a way?” Zeus asked.

Aphrodite nodded, but said nothing.

Poseidon felt less than satisfied. In fact, he felt an emptiness closing in on him.

“The Gorgons wail yet.” Apollo shook his head.

“Let them wail,” Athena spoke finally, her face ashen from Aphrodite’s tale. “I would have a satyr pipe made to mimic their cries. I can think of no better way to remind us to act with care.” She turned angry eyes upon Poseidon, speaking to him as if they were the only ones in the Council Chamber. “Mortals are fragile creatures and we must treat them as such.”

Poseidon lifted an eyebrow. Did she think to chastise him? Even now? He smiled.

“It shall be done,” Zeus agreed. “And I would place Perseus and Medusa in the stars.”

Hera’s brow arched. “Truly?”

“Is it not enough that her image is now etched onto Athena’s shield?” Ares groaned, impatience written upon his hard face.

“Must we see her in the stars as well?” Poseidon seconded Ares’ irritation.

“You sound like a jealous child,” Hera laughed.

Athena goaded, “What, Poseidon, has losing Medusa left you without sport?”

“I’ve no doubt you’ll find some poor maid to tempt your appetites soon enough,” Apollo smiled.

“Why am I blamed for all mischief?” he asked innocently.

“Because you have a hand in most,” Zeus said.

Poseidon laughed.

He glanced at Aphrodite. How she turned from him with downcast eyes. Mischief had been made already, in the gardens of Olympus. Though Hephaestus could not bed his wife, he would hardly be pleased when his wife bore Poseidon a son.

The thought brought a slow smile to his face.

“Zeus!” Demeter burst into the Council Chamber, her face lined with tears. Never had Poseidon seen the Goddess so undone, so shaken. He rose, waiting to hear what Demeter had to say. “Persephone is gone…taken I fear.”

Zeus rose swiftly. “Taken? When?”

“She was in Sicily, collecting her flowers…white lilies.” Demeter took the hand Hera offered, her voice shaking with fear. “And then she was gone… I was not with her, but the nymphs told me they heard her scream.”

Zeus’ brow furrowed, a dangerous sign, Poseidon knew.

“Apollo,” Zeus said quickly, “Hermes, find her.”

The women crowded about Demeter, offering words of comfort.

Poseidon stood, offering, “I will search as well.”

But Zeus was distracted, lost in thought.

“Brother, I will …”