“Expansive and intact,” Lonian said as he took in the interior of Medusa’s annexe.
“Isn’t it curious how our voice doesn’t echo despite the emptiness?” Akrivi asked with a beaming smile.
Medusa hummed in response. She had invited both boys over, not because Akrivi wouldn't shut up about wanting to see the place, but because she needed their help.
Clotho’s map, if she could call it that, was impossible to make sense of. And since the Moirai wasn't around to explain things, her other option was seeking the help of those familiar with Agria’s Nest. There was the other business with the dogs. Getting the Whites to fall in line was only a small part of her plan.
Akrivi made a beeline for the portal door, pointing but saying nothing as he looked from Medusa to the door. “That’s… this is a portal door,” he finally said, looking both shocked and excited.
Were portal doors not common? Judging from the surprised look on Lonian’s face as he joined Akrivi, it seemed that wasn’t the case.
Both boys touched the door, and Akrivi went further to press his ears against it. A mischievous smile animated his face as his gaze slid in her direction. “Wait, can we sneak out through this?”
Medusa shook her head. “I was told only my backer can use it.”
Akrivi’s face fell, then he flashed over and grabbed her shoulders. “Who’s your backer? Can they let us out?”
“You sound like you’re trapped.” Though Medusa chuckled as she spoke, she was partly serious. Now that she thought of it, could she leave Drys Valon of her own volition?
“Trapped? Haha!” He let his hands drop and turned away, but not before Medusa spied a sombre shift in his expression. So, he likely wasn't in Drys Valon of his own free will, was cursed, and wore an earring Hera made.
“Why did you call us?” Lonian turned away from the door. “It’s almost time for curfew.”
“The dogs,” Medusa said as she sat on the ground.
Since Vyron lost his bet, he oversaw creating the enforcers subpost and adding members. Medusa's only request had been to make Arke the leader. So far, he’s been agreeable, even though he didn’t attempt to hide his suspicion regarding her origin.
Lonian and Akrivi sat across from her.
“I’ve found a… unique way to improve aether control.” If what Medusa recently learned about aether stones works, then a month was enough, though it would be cutting close.
“Though it may be ineffective on both of you,” Medusa said as she pulled a scroll from her dimension. They crowded in when she spread it open.
“I don’t understand,” Akrivi mumbled as he read through the text. “What am I looking at?”
“Where did you get this?” Lonian quietly asked. There was suspicion in his voice.
“My backer provided learning materials. This was one of them.” Now that Medusa thought of it, there had been countless scrolls, books, and tablets in Clotho’s domain. If the Moirai truly predated the gods, just how vast was the knowledge she had amassed? Over the past two days, Medusa had pored over the scrolls Clotho provided; among them, she had uncovered some fascinating finds. One of which had given her the idea to improve the dogs.
“What’s unique about it?” Akrivi leaned in to get a second look. “I see some words in Greek. Is this a coded text?”
“It’s written with a mix of Iza, a near-forgotten language,” Lonian answered before spreading the scroll further. When he looked at Medusa, his expression was serious. “This is almost similar to the ancient scrolls in the Seiraphon monastery. Forgive the face I showed you. I was only surprised.”
“Hey,” Akrivi looked between them, “What am I missing? What does it say?”
“I also do not fully understand.” Lonian's tone grew contemplative as he returned his focus to the scroll. “But I believe it holds a method stones can be used to increase aether sensitivity and manipulation.”
Akrivi looked unimpressed. “There’s a thousand and one method out there.”
“This method can be used on at most sixty adult men at once,” Medusa said.
Akrivi shook his head and released a disbelieving laugh. “You're joking.”
Even Lonian looked at Medusa with scepticism. But she was sure of what she read—that was, if she could trust her language classes from her first life.
“Yes, it says an aether stone can be used that way. And there are runes here…” Medusa pointed at the part of the scroll she was referring to. The instructions were quite detailed, from how the user must sit to how much water they must drink before they start.
“If I etch the runes on the stone basin, I believe it can work.”
“Too risky.” Lonian shook his head. “The runes are theos tongue. Getting even a dot wrong can bring about horrifying consequences.”
But that wasn’t a problem. When it came to copying runes, Medusa was confident in her ability. Not only was it part of her tasks as a non-combatant priestess in her first life, she had also recently practised with the needles.
“My runic writing is perfect,” Medusa said as she drew the scroll into her dimension. When she looked at the boys, she saw their hesitation.
“Test me.” Medusa provided a blank scroll and gave Lonian an expectant look. “Write runic lines. I’ll copy them.”
“It’s fine; I believe you,” Akrivi said with an easy shrug.
It was different with Lonian. He carefully wrote three lines on the scroll, and she copied them flawlessly. When she slid the scroll back to him, she watched as he studied both versions.
“I see no difference.” Lonian finally lifted his eyes. “But I’m still concerned.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Resisting the urge to groan, Medusa retrieved one of her unlaced needles and passed it to him. Though the runes were tiny, they could still be seen with the naked eye.
After observing the needle, Lonian passed it to Akrivi.
“It draws in more aether than usual.” Akrivi squinted. “Are those runes?”
“I etched them myself, and they function perfectly.”
Akrivi whistled, clearly impressed. He nudged Lonian with an elbow. “I think we should listen to soft hands.”
Medusa met Lonian's hesitant gaze. “No one will be forced, and I will not risk their life. I promise.”
“How can we help?” he finally asked.
“Dogs that have promise but lack… resources. At least twenty.”
Akrivi nodded, already seeming excited. “That can be done. I’m already thinking of names.”
“I also have some in mind,” Lonian added before asking, “Can I see the scroll on the aether method again?”
Medusa handed over the scroll and shifted her attention to Akrivi. This was the part she wasn’t sure of. The last two hunts in Agria’s Nest had achieved nothing. No amount of staring helped either; Clotho’s map remained an enigma.
“Can I see the map you use?” At Akrivi’s confused frown, Medusa hurried to explain. “Not the school map. The one you use when we explore the nest.”
“Why?” Akrivi asked as he retrieved the map and spread it between them.
This was what a map should look like. Clearly drawn terrains, labelled waterways, and named areas. By contrast, the Moirai’s map was nothing more than a scroll of squiggly lines and connecting black dots that led to a red splotch that bore a disturbing similarity to blood.
Frowning, Medusa took a closer look at Akrivi’s map; a thrill shot through her when she noticed it. Though vague, there were similarities.
It felt silly to be excited, but Medusa couldn't help herself. “Can I have a copy of this map?”
Akrivi shook his head, appearing resolute. “Only the leader of the Reds can hold a copy.”
Medusa sighed; everything was a bargain with Akrivi. “I'll give you the second aether stone.”
Instead of answering, he threw back his head and laughed. Wiping tears off the corner of his eyes, he sent her a toothy smile. “Deal. The map is all yours.”
“Am I missing something?” Why was he laughing? Medusa looked from Akrivi to Lonian.
The corner of Lonian’s lips twitched with a smile. “You'd make a terrible merchant, May.”
“What?” Now, Medusa was genuinely curious.
“You can get the same map at the supply post for free,” Lonian explained.
Medusa facepalmed and laughed at herself. He got her.
Grinning, Akrivi shrugged. “It's not personal, soft hands.”
“It's fine,” Medusa said, and she meant it. Akrivi only took two things seriously—his role as the Reds' leader and aether stones. She shrugged off her curiosity concerning his greed for stones. Let him keep his secrets; she had hers, too.
***
Later that night, Medusa stared at the ceiling beams as she wrestled with drowsiness. After returning to the dorm, she had compared the maps and her suspicion had been right; there were some similarities. Since there’s no hunt tomorrow, she could use the extra time to piece things together.
There was another problem. For the past two nights, sleep had been torture.
It started as usual with Medusa opening her eyes at Aunt Phorcydes’ and seeing her duplicate go about a carefree existence. But the experience was always cut short. Hands, much like the ones she encountered at the door of her training, would emerge from the ground and drag her into a sea. There, monsters of the deep, vicious creatures Medusa had never seen or read about, would hunt her down.
Every attempt to swim away was similar to running on the spot. Panicking but heading nowhere. A heavy urgency that could never be answered, and they always got her. Their slashes and bites felt real enough to have her flying off the bed and checking her limbs. It was torment. I don’t want to sleep.
“What have you done?”
Flinching, Medusa opened her eyes to the bleak realisation that she had fallen asleep. But there was an unexpected sight; her parents were present in her aunt's home, and tension was in the air.
Someone was crying—No, it felt like she was the one crying.
The Opsianian Phorcydes called Lela was holding Medusa’s duplicate. The child cried harder as she strained for her parents. Aunt Phorcydes stood between them, the lines of her face stern and unyielding.
What's going on? Shouldn't Phorcydes be glad her parents had come for her?
“How could you be so foolish?” Phorcydes’ staff creaked under the force of her grip.
Ceto crumbled to her knees, appearing too stunned to speak.
“Say something!” Phorcydes slammed her staff against the ground.
Ceto bowed her head in response. Wait. Medusa took a closer look at her mother. Why… was she so thin? And Phorcys. Her sleeping body sucked in a shocked breath when she noticed them.
What is this? Though Medusa shouted the words, nothing reached them. When she struggled to move, she sensed her sleeping body shift on her bed. What had they done to him? Who did this to you?
Around his wrists, neck, and ankles were black thorns that dug into his flesh and drew blood. How could he maintain such a calm expression? A mixture of confusion, frustration and pain roiled inside her. She wanted to believe this was a nightmare but knew it wasn't. Just like when she witnessed Athena and Poseidon pay a visit, this was real.
“Was it worth it?” Phorcydes’ eyes shone with tears as she glared at Ceto. “How could you forget the foolishness of making a deal with Zeus? How?”
Ceto wove her fingers and clenched them so hard they turned white. “I… I…”
“He can't even speak.” A tear escaped, and Phorcydes furiously wiped it off. “Is this what you wanted? Is this… look at my brother. Look at what they did.” She massaged a spot on her chest and turned away. “This can’t be. Forever? No. No,” she mumbled. “There has to be a way. It can’t—” her voice broke.
Medusa recalled the content of Phorcys’ letter and how he had been terrified when he sent her off. This had to be the consequence. I caused this.
“I had… I had a plan, and it was perfect. Now it's ruined.” Phorcydes whirled around and stared at Ceto with such rage that Medusa felt the physical urge to shield her mother. Phorcys beat her to it.
He stood before Ceto, shielding her from Phorcydes’ glare as he shook his head. The simple action appeared painful with more lines of blood trailing down his neck and staining the collar of his himation.
What sort of punishment was this? That old rage, almost similar to what she felt when they killed Antonii, cooked her insides, but this time it felt impossible to express. So she remained unseen and useless. Watching and unable to do a thing.
“Look at what they've done to you.” Phorcydes’ voice trembled as she cradled Phorcy’s face. Medusa looked away, unable to bear the pain in her aunt’s eyes. Whatever the Moirai said about not blaming herself didn't work here. All she felt was guilt and useless fury.
Phorcys smiled and gave Phorcydes’ grey head a gentle pat before walking around her and approaching Medusa’s duplicate. At first, he held out his arms to carry her, but dropped them when he noticed the thorns around his wrists. He took her duplicate’s hand instead and led her toward Ceto, who remained kneeling.
“I am sorry, Phorcydes,” Ceto said in a low, broken voice. Her head remained bowed. She looked ashamed. “I didn't know it would be like this. I just wanted him to be free.”
“Ha! You call this freedom? Go. Just… leave.” Phorcydes whirled around with an agility that did not reflect her aged appearance and banged the door on her way out.
Phorcys took Ceto’s hand and pulled her to her feet. Save for the one time he smiled at Phorcydes, he maintained a blank expression. He paused when he opened the portal door and looked back as if searching for someone. After a moment, he led his family in and vanished.
Medusa blinked awake, her gaze fixed on the ceiling beams. Tears welled up, slipping past her lids and vanishing into her hairline. Swallowing a sob, she turned to her side and stayed awake until morning.
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