Medusa flinched awake. The terror of a forgotten nightmare was a dark fog over her mind. Saltpine did its work to make her instantly forget, but it didn’t ease the tension, muscles locked, teeth clenched, and a heart racing in her throat. She regulated her breathing until every muscle relaxed.

  If I don’t remember, it doesn’t matter. Yeah, right. She chuffed as she shut her eyes and patted the space next to her pillow, searching for her saltpine stash. She needed to go back to sleep. But why did it feel like something external woke her up?

  Turning to the side, she froze when she sensed it. Someone was standing at the front of her door. A shuffle as if the person was pacing. Those footsteps sounded a lot like Akrivi’s. She glanced at the water clock hanging above a lit candle and sighed. What was he doing at her door when she’d barely gotten an hour's worth of sleep?

  A tentative knock. “May, are you awake?”

  Since Akrivi heard Poseidon was coming for him, his mood had tanked. Speaking less and less, no jokes or smiles. Now he was at her door past midnight. Pushing out of bed, she trudged to the door and opened it with a sigh.

  “What is the—” She blinked at his appearance. He was dressed like a desert nomad, complete with a tan face covering that left only his eyes exposed. She looked beyond him, checking if anyone else was present. Just the stone walkway, flower beds and the darkness of midnight. “What’s with the costume? And couldn’t this wait till morning?”

  Gaze hard with resolve, he said what Medusa already suspected.

  “I’m leaving.” He tore his gaze away, glanced around as if looking for spies, before pulling the turban to expose his whole face. “You don’t know what he’s like—” He clamped his mouth shut, released a breath in a whoosh and finally met her eyes. That was real fear there.

  “May, I—” He appeared lost for words. “I know it seems cowardly running like this, but I'm being rational. I’m not ready. Not even remotely. I have projects… progressing ideas to…” He sighed and massaged his shut eyes with trembling fingers. “Look, I came to ask if you’d come with me.” He resumed glancing around. “I found out we’re in Tartarus. You know the plains beyond the cyclops gate? The one that’s deadly enough to kill blood carriers? I heard there’s a place after those plains. A free land of sorts. I plan to go there and—”

  “Akrivi.” Medusa gently cut in. “Don’t go. I don’t think there’s a place you can hide from him. Here is the safest.”

  He shook his head, appearing overtaken by panic. “Just come with me. Together we can—”

  “Please, Akrivi. Listen.”

  “No!” He firmly shook his head, already turning. “I won’t force you. I’ll be—”

  “Recall when I asked about killing gods?”

  He groaned to the night sky as if bearing the weight of the world. “Now is not the time, May. Poseidon is not just powerful. He is sick. Completely twisted without a shadow of compassion. To fall into his hands is worse than death.” He took her hand, imploring her with his eyes. “I am begging you. Listen to me just this once and leave with me. I’ve scouted the area. I think we can make it if we—”

  “Give me a moment.” Medusa glanced around and strained for a large fan-shaped leaf looming next to her doorpost.

  “Just observe, okay?” She tugged his hand, urging him to look.

  Holding on to the leaf, she repeated the method, but doubled the imbalance. This time, there was less resistance, and the result was even more satisfactory and faster. What was once green solidified into grey marble. Plucking it free, she offered it to Akrivi, whose eyes were comically larger.

  “How… what?” He snatched the leaf, holding it to the scant light spilling past her open doorway. “I’ve never seen such a…” his eyes flew to meet hers. “How did you do this?”

  “Come in first. And keep your privacy dome up.”

  The barbaroi had provided them with a simple but adequate lodging. Their own version of what would be called a studio apartment back on earth. A bed, a desk area, and a kitchenette complete with a multipurpose fireplace and work area. And the bath area wasn’t shared, unlike the case in the Grecian continent and Drys Valon.

  Akrivi marched straight to the work area, pulled a luminescent orb and placed it on an ornate holder he also produced. Its light easily overshadowed the candles.

  He sat and faced her. “How did you do that? What even was that? Was it aether manipulation? Such rapid permineralisation should be impossible. Can it kill? Can you test it on my finger? I think it’ll grow back.” He frowned. “Or will it? Anyway, if it works, we can—”

  “I plan to kill Poseidon on the day of the fate of heroes,” Medusa said as she settled on the tall stool across him.

  At first, he observed her in silence, then a look of horror eclipsed his face. “You’re serious! Are you insane? Do you know the kind of power Poseidon wields?” He shot off his seat and began pacing. “I’m guessing you intend to use this permineralisation—”

  “I prefer to call it petrification.”

  “—to kill him. How can you be certain it would work? Have you done any experiments on anything other than plants? Of course.” He waved. “You must have tried it on beasts.”

  When Medusa stared at him blankly, he stopped pacing.

  “You’ve experimented on beasts, right?”

  Medusa said nothing.

  He collapsed into his seat, groaning. But she could see it. His curiosity was already piqued; all that remained was to add fuel to the fire.

  “I’m telling you there is a way, Akrivi. We don’t have to run.”

  “But this isn’t something I can realistically work with. Turning a leaf to stone is awesome, but...” His words faded as his brow bunched, then he looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “How could I have forgotten? Of course, there’s a chance.” He laughed and smacked his forehead. “What I saw in my domain. You were in that form, like a glowing titan. What was that?”

  “That’s also an option.” Even though Medusa knew next to nothing about why her curse was so tall, or how that could help her.

  “But why is Poseidon the first on your kill list?” His puzzled look slowly darkened, as if he were coming to a terrible realisation. “Did he also…”

  Medusa forced a smile. “Can you tell if the air you breathe had, at one time, been inhaled by a person you loathe the most?”

  Akrivi shook his head.

  “Sometimes I think such thoughts, more so now that I’m in Cosmolith.” Not knowing what to do with her hands, she wove them and twiddled her thumbs. “The other day when I saw him—”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “You saw Poseidon?” His voice rose an octave. “Where?”

  “At the contender trial.” She stopped twiddling her thumbs. Perhaps she should ask for the practice stone back or drink some watered wine—keep her hands busy.

  “He was there?”

  “In the flesh, breathing the same air as me.” Medusa lost her false smile. “I thought I would go mad.” She met his eyes. “Why do you look ashamed?”

  Akrivi looked away. “He is my father? I—”

  Medusa released a hollow laugh. “I know a thing or two about fathers, and he definitely isn’t one. Don’t whip yourself for the sins of another.”

  He nodded stiffly. It was such a relief that he didn’t remotely resemble Poseidon.

  “Moving on.” Medusa waved, as if the action could sweep away the sting of the memory. “Believe me when I say there’s a way. My plans could use your help.”

  He nodded slowly, then more confidently. “I see.” Then he frowned. “But I’ve been dying to know. You’re… you’re not a teenager, are you?”

  “You’re just figuring that out?” Medusa stood and strolled to a small shelf, where she retrieved cups and plates. She’d need to eat or drink something to wash away the lingering bitterness. They had provided a basket of fruits and watered wine earlier. That should work.

  “Then how old are you? What sort of Theos command changes your appearance? Not that I mind if you’re way older. I love all doves regardless of their age.”

  “You’re completely gone,” she muttered around a chuckle.

  After sliding him a plate of grapes and an apple, she sniffed the jar of watered wine they provided. Passable. She poured them both a cup.

  He took a sip from his cup, then cleared his throat. “So… how old are you?”

  So he went there. The cheeky brat.

  “A bit over two hundred and sixty,” Medusa casually replied as she sat.

  Wine sprayed past his lips as he fell into a hacking, coughing fit. “What? What?”

  Well, she could be older based on what her curse revealed.

  “That means you’re a goddess,” he spat, eyes now wide with horror. “It all makes sense now that I—

  “Relax.” Medusa waved with her cup. “I’m messing with you.”

  He sighed.

  “I’m actually ten years old.”

  “Come on!”

  “And a widow.”

  He burst into laughter. “A ten-year-old widow. You’re crazy.”

  Medusa smiled and internally thanked Akrivi for his save. Her thoughts were beginning to slide into dark territory there. She also sensed the key helped bury the distractions.

  Clotho, are you there? Though the Moirai had not appeared since they left Ares’ domain, Medusa had spent most of the day sharing her plans with her. Parts of it, that is.

  What is it, child?

  Dragging a fortifying breath, she took a risk and asked. Can Akrivi meet you?

  Clotho hardly paused. Of course! He has water-type attributes, no? Long swims wouldn’t be a problem.

  Medusa frowned. Long swims? I don’t understand.

  You can bring him to my domain tomorrow. As you did at the beginning, remember? On an elevation. Hands up. Dive.

  “So, what do you want from me?”

  “You’ll teach me how to create a domain,” Medusa answered immediately, “And that soul-punching trick.”

  For what it’s worth, I did my best to teach you how to create a domain. Let’s see how well this mortal will fare.

  Her presence vanished before Medusa could give a reply.

  “It’s not a trick.” Akrivi bit into his apple and chewed thoughtfully. “And what do I get from this? I feel as if you keep taking from me.”

  “The nerve of this—” She flicked an apple seed, which he swiftly dodged. “What have I ever taken from you that you didn’t make me pay a thousand times over in stones? Your friendship is a sham.”

  “You wound me, soft hands.” He patted the spot over his heart as if it ached. “Business is business. What you now ask for surpasses mere stone. Priceless knowledge I bled to learn. And you wouldn’t even whisper how your daggers work or the permineralisation. Where is the fairness in that?”

  “Fine,” she said as if she hadn’t thought of this angle and many more to get him on her side. “I know a master. The same… being who made the daggers and helped me change my appearance.”

  That familiar merchant gleam returned to his eyes. “Tell me it’s possible to meet them.”

  “Of course,” Medusa said with a strained smile. “This is an exchange after all.”

  Medusa crossed her fingers. A mix of Clotho and Akrivi wouldn’t be a disaster… hopefully.

  The proving of herself to Queen Otrera had been incredibly underwhelming. Otrera had invited her to her throne room, summoned a privacy dome, and asked her to reveal her gorgon form. Then she had blinked in surprise and smiled.

  “You are truly Phorcys’ child.” Her gaze lingered on the snakes. “But I could have sworn his child is barely ten, though. What’s this appearance and this air of unmistakable maturity?”

  Medusa shrugged, saying nothing. Only the Moirai would know about her reincarnation circles. It had been a closely guarded secret all her lives, a truth she whispered to no one, not even Antonii.

  Walking to a large hanging map, she tapped a spot. “Here. We call that region the Bol, home to the Varys Carpa.”

  So, a goat-type beast. Medusa observed the spot. Maps were her true weakness. It could be hills or mountains, she couldn’t tell.

  “Lately, things have been quite interesting. We are seeing beasts that shouldn’t be in our forests. The carpas are beginning to leak out, ruining the balance present since the time of the Titans.”

  Her focus returned to Medusa, who had reverted to her red-haired appearance. “They say change is constant. True. True. But ugly change?” She clicked her tongue as she returned to her seat. “Ugly changes are the worst. While I shield you and your friend in my land, you shall sharpen your skills by taking care of that… ugliness.”

  Unsure of how to respond, she said a tentative, “Thanks?”

  Otrera laughed, the sound bubbly and warm. “Oh, don’t thank me yet, child. And since you’re so precious to dearest Ares, I shall send Hippolyta along to ensure your life remains intact.”

  “Thanks.” She offered a bow and straightened. “When do I start?”

  “Simply seek out Hippolyta when you’re ready.”

  After the meeting, Medusa and Akrivi made their way up a grassy elevation that overlooked the harbour to the far right. A strong sea breeze snatched at their hair and clothes from the east, and she found herself manipulating air to keep herself from slipping.

  “All she asked was that you shift?”

  Medusa nodded as they pressed ahead.

  “Very interesting.” He held his chin as if it were a deep thing to be contemplated on. “Say, can you shift for me? Purely for research purposes, of course.”

  Medusa snorted a laugh. “You’d grow a sweeping beard before I’d grant that.”

  “Are you serious?” He appeared genuinely curious. “That’s all? If I grow a beard, you’ll—”

  “It’s an expression. A figure of speech from my…” Her words faded. From my fourth life.

  “It means you’d wait forever before I ever dignify such a request.”

  “Oh.” He appeared disappointed, then smiled again. “So, which is your real face, though? And that time when...”

  The questions poured in. She kept most of her answers vague or blatantly ignored some. Finally, they reached a fairly obscured cliff.

  She peered below. At least the waves were not turbulent like that day of crushing sorrow. Funny how she was widowed twice. You’re cruel, Antonii.

  She dragged her focus from the waves and faced Akrivi. “How long can you stay in the water?”

  “As long as I please.” He flashed an arrogant smile and peered down, too. “This master of yours lives in the ocean?”

  Before her eyes, three slits like the gills of a shark appeared across his neck.

  “That’s cool,” Medusa mumbled. What’s incredible about one hour in the water next to that? Lucky bastard.

  “Cool?” He covered the gills with a palm, appearing self-conscious. “But I feel warm, though. Was that one of those expressions only you know?”

  Medusa chuckled. “Yes, it is. And ‘cool’ is good. Like saying um… impressive.”

  “Impressive, huh?” He nodded slowly. “Of course, I’m impressive. It’s good that you do not see me as a beast, soft hands.”

  “Ditto.” Before he could ask what she meant, she gave her instruction. “Stretch your hands above your head, touch your palms and dive.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’ll see a light. Swim for it.” She walked to the very edge. “Let’s see who’d get there first.”

  Not waiting for a reply, Medusa free-fell, twisted, and smoothly pierced the water.

  Is diz boring? Wut is diz monotoni, deer writa?

  "The action scenes will come when they come. Now, listen to Oogway."