Medusa had just drawn a check mark next to Akrivi’s name when she heard a knock. She looked past the window. It was just before dawn, with the sky still a deep midnight blue and morning birds silent. Only one person would come around this early.

  Sighing, Medusa trudged to the door, and sure enough, Akrivi was waiting with a scroll in hand.

  “It’s all here.” He waved the scroll before handing it over. “All I know about domains. Mostly theory if I’m honest.”

  Medusa took him in. His gills were already out, and he was practically vibrating in his eagerness to return to Clotho’s domain.

  “I wish I knew more,” he added and made a face as if embarrassed. “You do know I’m madly grateful, yeah?”

  “Sure,” Medusa muttered distractedly as she opened the scroll and lifted it to the light spilling past her door. His handwriting was legible. Good. “I'll use it well. Thanks.”

  He glanced in the direction of the cliff and smiled when he looked back at her. “No, thank you. You’re fo-jot?.”

  At first, Medusa frowned in confusion, then laughed when she realised what he was trying to say. Such horrendous pronunciation. She didn’t know he could speak some Opsianese. The language was notoriously difficult to learn.

  He pressed on in an effort to explain himself. “You know… jot?, like a light that brings a merchant the best of fortunes.”

  Was that merchant slang? Medusa shook her head, still amused. All that remained was for him to kiss her feet in gratitude. He hadn't stopped thanking her since they left Clotho’s domain yesterday.

  “Enough with that.” She waved him off. “If anything, it’s the Moirai you should thank.”

  “I’ve thanked her, too. Over and over in my head.” He tapped his temple. “I’ll be rich, soft hands. Rich.” He smiled so big that Medusa found herself smiling too. At least someone was happy.

  “And if our plan works, we can be free of them too,” he continued eagerly. “Can you imagine that? A world without them?”

  No. Medusa had no imagination of a world after she ended her foes and their stupid immortality. Still, she nodded. “I can. Later then.”

  She began to push her door closed when Akrivi stopped her with a serious look.

  “Say, will you tell me your real age if I succeed? I don’t mind if you're a gorgon. I’d be good to you.”

  A disbelieving snort escaped before she could help it. Had her gorgon face bewitched him? She immediately discarded the thought when she recalled he had also made a pass at her in Drys Valon.

  Having such interest thrown her way was no surprise. In all her lives save for the second and fourth, she had been plagued by the curse of beauty. It was not strange to spot besotted worshipers frequenting the temple to catch a glimpse of her, and Athena, aware of the effect her looks had on people, made sure to keep her serving at the outer courts. Those days had been deeply exhausting, and then there was the jealousy from other priestesses.

  The case was different as a gorgon. She had snakes for hair and fangs. If her transformation was complete, her limbs would be like those of a serpent. Akrivi must have a dozen screws loose.

  “Your charms are wasted on me,” Medusa said with a tired sigh before wiggling her fingers. “And give me my practice stone. You thought I forgot?”

  Grumbling but still smiling, he passed the stone and waved goodbye.

  Returning to her table, Medusa focused on her notes once more. It was a mix of English and Spanish detailing every change she was beginning to notice in her body, how fast she was improving and her general thought pattern.

  She read and reread a line she had circled and asterixed.

  It was good that Akrivi was firmly on her side, but things still felt slow. She didn't want to pressure him with a timeframe, but being ready before the Fate of Heroes was essential.

  There was also the concern that Poseidon would come for him.

  Mood instantly souring, she glanced at the potted plant to her left. Its leaves, stem, flowers, and everything down to the roots that disappeared into the soil were stone. What was even more curious was how easy it had become to trigger petrification. A simple intent and casual press was all it took.

  Still, the initial excitement had dimmed, leaving only dread. There was a nagging certainty in the background that her petrifying gaze would soon return.

  Jaw propped on her fist, she reached for the stone flower and grazed its frozen petals.

  No matter how she thought of it, petrification was too merciful for Poseidon. She recalled the woman at his side, that emptiness in her eyes. Gaunt as a scarecrow. He may have turned me into that if Athena didn't have other uses for me. And now, they still plan to take me.

  No. Simply turning them to stone would be undeserved mercy.

  …go for your enemies before they come for you. And always confirm their death.

  Though Antonii's words sounded gentle in her head, they lit the fuse of a wild idea. So far, the gods had come for her. Shaking her world. Taking and taking. She recalled the thorns around her father’s neck, and her mother looking so… skeletal. Then Antonii. How they left him chained like some beast locked in stone.

  She needed to do something—anything to shatter the illusion of balance those vermin have grown used to.

  Pushing to her feet, she walked to the windows and tightly drew the curtains close. Then she stood before the full-length mirror next to the door. She would know if she met her own gaze. Those days in that cave, when she dared to steal a glimpse of her reflection in still water, always revealed the truth.

  Drawing a fortifying breath, she shifted to her gorgon form and lifted her eyes.

  It is as I suspected.

  The sting was present when she met her gaze, though not as sharp; what gave away the stone gaze’s presence was that glow. Neon green at the rim of her irises. When the petrifying gaze was complete, neon would replace deep green. It hasn't gotten to that stage yet, but soon…

  A dead laugh escaped as Medusa took in the serpents. Even their eyes were beginning to glow, something that never happened in her first life. Why so fast and different? Yesterday, she had shown the queen her gorgon form and nothing—

  The realisation struck like thunder. That wine. That bloody wine. No way.

  What was in that wine?

  The Moirai’s answer was upbeat and immediate. Ah, I see you're beginning to see results.

  Medusa's heart sank. What did you do to my body?

  I offered a drink, and you accepted it. There was no compulsion.

  What? Medusa’s jaw fell open. What sort of ridiculous argument is that? You should have told me what I was ingesting. I would have—

  I told you what you were offered the first time we met. Told you the benefits. Her tone was relaxed without a hint of remorse. I perceived you wanted haste and helped speed up the process.

  You offered me that on the first day we met! Medusa shuddered to imagine what would have happened to her body if she had accepted the drink that first time.

  Oh, relax. It would have given you better protection against the Ekhidna. Nothing more. Clotho clicked her tongue. So stubborn, this child.

  But… Now I'm… Medusa fell silent. She didn't know whether to thank or curse Clotho. What if the stone gaze bled into her human form? What if she unintentionally turns people to—

  I sense you're worried about your stone gaze. Clotho's soothing voice cut through her panic. Simply control it as you would your petrifying touch.

  Medusa stiffened. You know about that?

  I saw it in your friend's memories yesterday.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  So much for making it a surprise. Of course you did. There was no privacy with the Moirai.

  Mhm, Clotho replied proudly. Oh. Your friend has arrived. We should talk later.

  Medusa was left staring at her reflection. Willow, one of her snakes with the calmest disposition, looped around her neck. She had just reached for it when two lines of sawing pain flared between her shoulders.

  “Ugh.” Gritting her teeth, she arched her back and pawed for the spot. The jagged spot was warm to the touch. Her eyes watered from the excruciating pain. Nothing like this happened in her first life.

  She twisted to see the spot in the mirror, only to hiss when the pain tripled. Giving up, she quickly shifted to her human appearance, but the phantom pain remained, flaring between her shoulder blades in burning lines.

  What did that damn wine do to my body?

  As if shifting to her gorgon form had altered her human form, she could feel the presence of the key more closely. Its warmth flared in her sternum, releasing pulses of energy she was certain wasn't aether.

  Another burst of pain flared behind her eyes and fanned out like the most vicious of headaches. “Come on,” Medusa gritted out as she shut her eyes and staggered away from the mirror.

  Two visions flashed in succession. The first was her cave on Sarpedon, the island of her banishment. But the second was deeply wrong. What appeared to be a gaping crevice, leaking pulsing darkness that corrupted the air. Everything in her recoiled from its wrongness, yet it felt familiar somehow.

  She finally stumbled to her chair and collapsed with a groan. “What the hell was that?”

  It was still early morning, with the sunlight gentle enough to feel pleasant against the skin, but the discomfort of the ordeal at dawn still lingered. In a bid to distract herself, Medusa had sought out Hippolyta as the queen instructed.

  If Hippolyta was annoyed that Medusa took over her morning, it didn’t show. She had listened, nodded, then promptly shifted to her centaur form and moved, leaving Medusa to scramble for her horse and race after her.

  “Though varys carpas aren’t particularly easy prey, things become infinitely worse when they move as a herd,” Hippolyta said in the exact tone of a bored tour guide. “Because something we can’t detect keeps disturbing their habitat, stampedes, though rare, can suddenly occur. Be vigilant.”

  Medusa attempted to picture them in a herd and failed. Would they run on two legs or like apes? These were the important questions.

  Maintaining a leisurely pace in her centaur form, Hippolyta left the cobblestone road and took a winding path that disappeared into the woods. Instead of a bow and quiver, she wielded a wicked-looking glaive balanced on a slender shoulder.

  As they moved, Medusa considered Hippolyta’s warning. Varys carpas resembled goats standing on their hind legs, but they had human arms tipped with clawed fingers. They weren’t strangers to wielding weapons if pushed, but the more concerning part was that they were omnivores. They do not hesitate to kill and eat humans when given the chance.

  “I shall oversee your hunt and only intervene should you be near death.”

  Medusa had no intention of letting things reach that point, but she still nodded anyway.

  A rustle to the right drew her attention. As she looked, she spotted Rico chasing a squirrel before it disappeared into the bushes. It was with great reluctance that she let him loose earlier. Clotho had advised her to let him get used to land, since he would be a natural in water.

  Now the size of a fluffy small dog, Rico matched the pace of the horses, seeming not to tire. Once in a while, he'd vanish into the bushes, only to reappear ahead with a twitching lizard or squirrel between his teeth. When she praises him, he’d gobble his prey and repeat the process.

  Speaking of hunts, she was yet to form a strategy against the varys carpas. They were excellent mountain climbers and opportunistic hunters; when they saw a creature they considered prey, they pursued it with stubborn determination.

  As if reading her thoughts, Hippolyta spoke. “My advice? Use them to sharpen your speed, and aim for clean strikes across the neck.”

  “Got it.” Medusa nodded.

  As they fell into the journey's lull, and Medusa saw that her horse trailed the centaur without any prompting from her, she retrieved Akrivi’s scroll on domains.

  According to him, there were two types of domains. Static and mobile. Pockets were mobile domains, and the only type blood carriers could create. They moved with their creator, and their size depended on the blood carrier's aether manipulation capacity.

  Location domains were static. A powerful god could spread a dome over their estate to create one. They were also twice as strong in their domain. Akrivi couldn't tell if a deity could set up multiple location domains or switch its spot.

  Medusa had to learn how to create a static domain even Zeus would find impenetrable. She was confident it could work. After all, both Prometheus and Zeus used the Monolith’s key to achieve the impossible; she just needed to figure out how they did it.

  Tall orders, child. Clotho had sighed when she shared her plan, but thankfully didn't say a word in discouragement, only promising to provide whatever resource or assistance she needed. Matter of fact, there was a gleeful look of anticipation on her face. Something about how Medusa made her existence more exciting now that she could barely see what her future held.

  Medusa resumed reading the scroll. The next type of domain was something Akrivi called the soul domain. A vast chasm where a stronger soul pulls a weaker one in. She recalled her encounter with Atropos. That horrifying pile of black bones and stretch of dim nothingness on all sides. Was that a soul domain? Did the Moirai even have souls? And there was the domain her curse had. Did that mean she could already create a soul domain?

  The scroll went on to explain something even more curious. The blindfold training was a type of soul domain, and adding blood to the water made the body affected during training.

  As for how Akrivi created a soul domain when they clashed, his explanation was straightforward. His master modified his earring to be some sort of aether bank, holding ten times what a regular blood carrier could manage. It worked as both an anchor and an aether supplier.

  There was no Theos Tongue in his method. Just an earring and intent when in his cursed form.

  Well, that wasn't really helpful. The only really useful information was his earring. Did she need to get one, too? She frowned as a thought occurred. In Prometheus’ portrait and when she found him kneeling in that place, he had been wearing the key as a necklace. Could she… no. In her case, the key was in her body. So, how?

  She tried Akrivi’s method, but this time focusing her intent on drawing from the key. Nothing happened. Maybe if she tried it in her gorgon form, it would—

  “From here, we go faster,” Hippolyta suddenly spoke, shattering Medusa’s concentration.

  But Rico…

  She caught sight of him and her heart warmed with pride. He was fast, and his cute face still managed to appear fierce as he matched their pace. Medusa laughed and urged him on.

  Since the Bush Beater was still attached to her horse, she didn't need to worry about ducking to escape branches. Wind in her face and the smell of the woods around, she discarded thoughts of domains and pressed forward.

  After what felt like fifteen minutes, they came upon the rim of a vast bowl-like slope that spread to a plain bracketed by mountains. Dismounting immediately, she dragged her attention from the breathtaking sight and looked behind in search of Rico.

  Medusa rushed to him as he bounded into the clearing. Clotho told her to ease up on the cuddling, but she couldn't help it. Hugging his restless form, she checked his paws for cuts and pulled twigs and dried leaves from his fur. He continued panting and wiggling to free himself.

  “How were you so fast?”

  He released an excited yip, licked her face and strained harder to be free from her grip. “Fine.” She gave him one final squeeze before letting him go and turning back around.

  Medusa's brow climbed up when she noticed them. Numerous crumbling homes carved out of the mountain surface. None of the stone buildings had roofs. From the mountainside down to the plain lay shattered structures and deep cracks.

  “What happened here?”

  Hippolyta said nothing for the longest time. “The one that calls himself the earth shaker.”

  Again, Medusa was reminded of the impossible power he possessed. Can I really face him? Perhaps, instead of a combat, I should play to his weakness. The thought alone made her belly churn with nausea.

  “Poseidon did this?”

  “We do not mention his name.” Hippolyta waved as if shooing bad luck. “That was a very long time ago. As you can see, we resettled and flourished.” She solemnly stared ahead, focus fixed on the point that formed a narrow valley.

  “Though you cannot see the varys carpas, they are present, hidden amidst the ruins.” She held the glaive like a staff, eyes roaming the mountains. “Normally, you will see a good number hopping about, but that has not been the case since the anomaly."

  A blink and Hippolyta was back in her human form. She turned to face Medusa, gaze cool and assessing. “How fast are you?”

  Compared to who? Her sister had made a mockery of Medusa’s speed, but her gorgon form was pretty fast. Not that she planned to use it. The memory of the pain between her shoulders was still fresh in her mind. “Fairly fast.”

  A stiff nod. “And the weapons you use?”

  “Daggers. Pins.”

  Hippolyta clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Inefficient. Take.” She tossed the glaive.

  Medusa caught it with fumbling hands.

  “Use that instead.”

  A disbelieving laugh escaped before Medusa could help it. In the life before she met Antonii, a similar weapon had caused her death. Using polearms on the battlefield, especially the tightly packed clashing kind, was stupid. A whack to the face from one of her sisters in arms was all it took. That single moment of dazed agony had her eating a sword and suffering a most excruciating death.

  Those vicious marauders. She resisted the urge to spit as her mood darkened.

  “So easy to laugh.” There was a wistful note in Hippolyta’s voice, but she faced ahead before Medusa could read more into it. “I'll be watching from above. Carefully observe their behaviour. Notice what seems… wrong. Be alert.”

  Medusa’s grip tightened around the wooden shaft of her weapon. Its polished, well-sharpened blade hummed with aether, yet she still hated the feeling in her hand. Daggers would always be better, but it made sense to listen to the carpa hunting expert.

  Pulling both internal and ambient aether, Medusa jumped over the rim. The wind snatched at her hair and tunic as she sailed through the air and landed quietly; one foot first, then the other followed as she glanced around.

  A stiff breeze blew against her face before whistling past the broken pillars behind. Nothing moved yet. Looking to the left, she sharpened her vision, pushing it as far as the key would allow.

  There. Above. The subtlest of movements around one of the crumbling homes. She spied the long, curved horns of a carpa, but curiously, it retreated as if hiding.

  She noticed other not-so-subtle movements as well. The varys carpas could clearly see her, but they made no move to attack. As if sensing her confusion, Hippolyta flashed over and stopped with a jolt next to Medusa.

  “That’s odd.” She looked around, too, a frown forming at her brow. “They should be upon you by now.”

  “So, do I go to them or…” Medusa’s words faded as she sensed it. A tug pulled her towards the narrow valley. The scene from that morning unfolded before her mind's eye. Not her island, but the crevice with dark energy leaking out. That place was close by.

  Self-preservation begged her to flee, but the key seemed arrested by curiosity, and so was Medusa.

  The pull was almost a physical force. She turned toward it, fist tightening around her weapon.

  Don't. It's a bad idea.

  Her feet were already moving. She abandoned the carpas and shot for the valley.