The room was a mess. On the work surface, shelves, and floor lay dead bees. Medusa massaged the back of her neck and groaned. This would be a chore to clean.

  Contrary to Nestor's advice, she had spent hours in the annexe. Under Clotho’s iron supervision, she laboured over ten writing needles, carefully etching runic markings before dipping them in venom. Backbreaking work but she would take that a thousand times over the method she used to get the bees’ venom. Even now, the bitter taste lingered on her tongue. Ugh.

  Did I have to eat the queen? Medusa asked, her stomach churning as the unpleasant memory returned. She had eaten bugs in her second life but never a live one packed with aether. I can still taste it.

  Clotho laughed for the first time in hours. You eat honey but can’t eat what makes honey.

  What sort of wacky logic is that?

  It was alive! It… it wiggled in my mouth, Medusa replied hotly. If she hadn’t eaten the queen in her dimension she would have died instantly. The venom had paralysed her mouth and throat, and she was already choking on saliva before the symptoms began to fade. A disgusting, terrifying experience she would never ever repeat.

  Eating it dead would have lessened the effect, Clotho replied, laughter still in her voice.

  Medusa's focus shifted from the needles to a beaker holding thinned blood. Eating the queen led to the death of its colony and a permanent change in her blood. From stone gaze to petrifying blood. At least, I chose this, not some curse forced on me.

  Yet your curse remains, replied rationality. You can’t escape this fate. You’re already a beast.

  No, I’m not. Right now she had normal hands and feet, real hair. Completely human. The gorgon was in a past that never happened.

  Curses follow the soul, not the body. The voice argued. If it never happened, why are you here? Why pursue revenge? Denial is stupid.

  Biting the inside of her lower lip, Medusa opened her eyes and bleakly stared at the needles. This kind of thinking. Arguing with herself. Expecting the worst. Remembering the past. She thought it had lessened when she returned to Cosmolith.

  Cracks formed across the walls she set up, and a memory escaped.

  “Ruined child. It grieves me to send you away.”

  The snakes did not react when Athena brushed away a tear that slipped past the soaked blindfold.

  “If I could cancel the curse, I would have. But your purity is gone.”

  Medusa focused on the sound of the lapping waves and the smell of the ocean—anything to keep her mind blank. Around her neck was an iron band with a long chain connected to a sea vessel.

  Even if she miraculously gained the ability to speak past the beastly screeches, she would have no words. This bone-deep feeling of self-disgust, like maggots burrowing in her marrows. What he did to her. All the people she had murdered.

  Medusa.

  She flinched, snatched back to the present at the sound of Clotho's voice.

  What is it? Something was wrong just now. Speak.

  I… it’s nothing. Medusa rubbed her eyes as her heart hammered against her chest. The nightmares may come tonight.

  A glance at the water clock showed four hours had passed. It would soon be time for her training with Nestor, but her eyes were bleary from peering through the magnifying lens and etching rune after rune. Is there an antivenom?

  Clotho remained silent for a moment as if protesting Medusa’s unwillingness to share her thoughts. No time for that. You can use your dimension, no?

  Medusa shook her head. I prefer an antivenom. Please, tell me how to make one.

  She rubbed her eyes harder when she noticed the wetness. Stupid tears.

  Fine. Clotho released an exasperated sigh. I should be able to find something on antidotes and antivenom.

  I'm grateful. Feeling slightly relieved, Medusa reached for a broom with a shaky hand. If she hurried, she should be done cleaning before Physicals. But a question lingered in her mind.

  This… this curse. You saw what it’s like—what it did to my body. Medusa was dying to know but at the same time, she was scared.

  Yes, I did. Clotho’s voice softened. Glimpses, that is.

  Medusa leaned on the broom with her chin propped on the back of her hands. Her heart raced with the hope of getting some answers. My aunt said there are cursed and blessed gods, that my dad is cursed but my mum is blessed. But… Medusa frowned. I have never heard of any deity possessing transformed bodies like my sisters and me. The eye of petrification. Was that a double curse? Did Athena add the curse?

  And it was extremely rare for deities to bear children; yet her parents bore four, if she were counting the son her aunt mentioned, within eighty years of marriage.

  First, know that Athena is incapable of cursing a deity.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  But I’m not a deity.

  You are a child of two deities. I know you loathe deities but you must accept the reality that you share certain traits with them. That you keep reincarnating should be telling enough.

  Medusa’s brow bunched. It was a hard pill to swallow, a possibility she fiercely rejected all through her lives. I hate the sound of that.

  Try to let go of your biases, Clotho said. I can never say I understand what you went through, but my ability exposes me to human emotions. When you’ve experienced the vast amount I have and seen the intentions behind decisions, you'll understand things are grey, never black or white.

  Medusa clamped her jaw shut, refusing to speak.

  The toll of living for so long has done terrible things to deities, but they are not all monsters.

  It would be foolish to deny Clotho’s logic. Medusa had experienced her parents, Phorcydes and Demeter. Even Ares did not possess the same malevolent presence Athena and Poseidon had. There were other deities she encountered at Athena’s temple, nasty lots that only held back because she was the daughter of a deity. But even that was not enough to shield her at the end.

  “I did vile things too,” Medusa mumbled. How was she just seeing this now? “I’m also a monster.”

  That is not true, Clotho said emphatically. You are not a monster.

  No, Medusa shook her head. You only say that because you didn’t see it all. You don’t know the extent. Her grip tightened around the broom as her vision blurred. “I killed…” her throat closed up. This was the first time she was openly speaking of it. “I killed hundreds, Clotho,” she whispered in a shaky voice. This guilt she carried for years and years. The ugliness that followed behind her, as faithful as a shadow.

  “Sometimes I dream.” She sniffed and swiped an arm across her eyes. “Sometimes I get these nightmares. I am carrying this… this mountain of rotting corpses. They are not stone. Their eyes are always open. They’re fused to my back and shoulders, crushing me.”

  Clotho was silent.

  The brutality of my second life. I took it as punishment but that death did not feel enough. I wasn’t punished enough.

  They tampered with your curse, Medusa. Clotho’s voice was low. You are not a killer. This view of punishment is based on Athena’s rancid teachings and twisted idea of justice.

  A dead laugh escaped before Medusa could stop it. Forgive me, Moirai, but I think you are wrong. She wiped her tears and began sweeping. I deliberately killed those who came to my cave. At a point, I craved their visit.

  You were alone.

  “YOU DO NOT KNOW EVERYTHING!”

  You were alone, Clotho continued as if she hadn’t heard Medusa’s outburst. You were alone in a cave for years. It is normal to desire some form of human interaction. That it became twisted is the grey I spoke of.

  Medusa fell silent as she continued sweeping. She gave up trying to rebuild the walls that kept her memories at bay; now they poured out, pelting her for attention and burning her mind. Clotho would never understand. There was no way such a being would understand the toll on her soul. Life after life trying to atone. When nothing worked, she chose denial and agreed to be loved. What had that led to?

  What am I doing, Clotho? All her rage… why did it feel like all her rage was draining? What am I doing here? I must have been deluded, thinking of revenge and killing gods.

  “I should… I should take Rico and flee.” Yes. That made better sense. Her double could take on her life and head to the temple. She would find an obscure village and quietly live out her days. A smile touched her lips. Antonii would prefer that a thousand times over avenging his death.

  And how would you get Rico? Clotho asked. The duplicate I made can’t live beyond five years. Going with your plan will circle back to your aunt and father, and there will be consequences.

  Groaning, Medusa facepalmed. “I’m such a lucky person.”

  Silence reigned until Medusa finished cleaning the room.

  Do you mean it? Clotho asked.

  Mean what?

  Killing deities. Are you no longer interested?

  Medusa thought about it for a moment. I… wish to protect myself. I’m not naive enough to believe they would leave me be, and I suspect Athena would find me if I attempted to flee.

  That is correct.

  If they come for me, I will kill them.

  A bold claim, but she was without choice. For the first time since returning to Cosmolith, she imagined a different life. Rico, Phorcys, Ceto, her sisters and her aunt all together as a family. Such lovely impossible dreams.

  And Perseus?

  “He tortured my husband,” Medusa spat. “Decapitated me and… and.” Rage, bitter on her tongue, would not let her complete the sentence. Just how deep was his hatred that he sought her out in another world? To him, she was nothing but a beast existing to be slain.

  Do not tell me this is one of those grey areas.

  I stand by my belief that there are no black and white, but I would never ask you to consider forgiveness.

  There was something unspoken in the air and even if the Moirai didn’t say it, Medusa heard it loud and clear.

  The current Perseus, wherever he is, isn’t responsible for your pain.

  I don’t care! Antonii died. Days ago, he died. And I…

  Rubbing the spot above her throbbing heart, Medusa struggled to calm her breaths but raw emotions wouldn't let her. The urge to hide and weep for days was almost unbearable.

  I… I will not seek him out. But if he appears before me, I do not know if I can control myself.

  Clotho hummed her acknowledgement. So will you still help me free my sister?

  Yes. Medusa didn't need to think twice about that. It was impossible to imagine how she would have managed without Clotho.

  Good. Then I will continue to do my best to guide you. A beat of silence. There is something else you should know.

  Medusa groaned on her inside; she recognised this tone. The Moirai was about to drop something heavy.

  Your father.

  Her instinct had been correct. Something had gone wrong the day she left the villa. She clutched the necklace he gifted her. Is—is he fine?

  No.

  Dread weakened Medusa’s knees. She sank onto a stool. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? What I did with the chant of apparition.” Her guilt returned a hundredfold.

  Take it easy with the self-flagellation.

  But I read his letter to my aunt. He said something about someone coming for him.

  Yes, your mistake triggered a punishment but that was a mere slap on the wrist.

  Medusa stood and began pacing. You said he’s not fine. If it’s a slap on the wrist, he should be fine.

  The truth is, Phorcys has not been fine for centuries.

  I don’t understand. Medusa cast her mind to their time on the beach. He had mentioned something about politics, nothing terrible. The day he let her go had felt different though. The way his hands trembled and how he hugged her. That had been real fear in his eyes.

  Phorcys is one of the few high gods under Zeus’ punishment.

  Zeus? Medusa’s head grew light. What sort of dangerous… “Why?”

  It’s because of me. Clotho's voice grew subdued. Your father is being punished because of me.

  I wanted to post a heads-up but RR said the chapter must have 500 characters or more, so I dumped the idea. ??

  Anyhoo, rates or reviews will be appreciated.

  That will be all.

  Until Saturday.