Serpent and Stone

Chapter 10

He nodded and exhaled, step by careful step letting me guide him back to the bed. When he sat down on the edge, I started to pull my hand away but he held onto it, closing his fingers around my palm.

My snakes bared their fangs and narrowed their eyes, an echo of my own flustered surprise. I would have pulled my hand away with more force then, but I noticed the thoughtful frown on Perseus' face as his thumb brushed over my palm.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked. The dots connected in my mind, and some of the tightness in my chest dissipated. Perseus had simply noticed the blisters and cuts on my hand, that was all. For a small moment there, I'd thought he must have realized I was Medusa. My snakes one by one relaxed once more as the unfounded fear faded away.

"The reason why I was out so late and didn't hear you this morning," I said. "I went back to bury the dead, as I promised."

He jerked his head up suddenly, his absent gaze morphing into an intent stare.

"It's done then?"

He loosened his grip on my hand and I swiftly pulled it away. "Yes," I replied shortly. "They've been given proper burial."

It was like I was watching an invisible weight lifted from his broad shoulders. He immediately sagged forward in relief, the lines of stress in his face fading. Even his constant scowl was momentarily replaced by a small smile.

"Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, Andromeda." He had at last thanked me, but I felt guilt rather than satisfaction. He should not need to thank me for merely acting on basic respect for the dead.

For the first time, it occurred to me that Perseus likely had friends and comrades among the dead, perhaps even someone he had considered a brother. It was not just basic respect that compelled him to make sure the soldiers received their final rites, but a personal need to know that his friends had a safe journey to the underworld. I recalled the harshness with which he'd asked me if I'd saved anyone else from the battlefield, how belligerent and rude I'd thought him for asking something so insulting. Guilt wormed its way through my stomach, and I cleared my throat.

"Don't thank me yet," I said. "They may be strolling through Elysium now, but your life is still in danger. Has your wound reopened?"

"No. No, the stiches have held."

"And your head wound?"

He winced at the memory of it, bringing a hand to his scalp. "I think it's alright now. The pain is gone, and it's stopped bleeding." He took a shaky breath. "I'm blind because of it, aren't I?"

So perhaps he knew a bit about the healing arts as well. "Yes," I answered. "There are other recorded cases where such a thing has happened. Consider yourself lucky it didn't kill you instantly."

He didn't seem to be paying attention my admonition. "And is it permanent?" he pressed.

I hesitated. I didn't want to give him false hope. I knew better than anyone that false hope could be more painful than even a dagger in the flesh.

"I am not a master healer," I started carefully. "But from what I know, it is likely permanent. Don't expect your eyes to suddenly heal one day, or I'm afraid you'll face brutal disappointment."

The hope in his pale blue eyes dimmed, but he nodded slowly in understanding. I imagined he'd already attempted to brace himself for this outcome.

He stayed silent for a while longer, and I took the opportunity to go to the pool in the back of the temple. I knelt at the edge, grabbed a rag, and began to wash the dirt from my hands and arms. They were covered with soil and mud, and they reeked of death. I shuddered and scrubbed harder.

"You said you're the only one who lives on this island," his voice cut through the sound of the splashing water. I paused and turned toward him, even though he couldn't see me. "Is that really true?"

"Yes."

"And you've never left?"

"No. Never."

He frowned. "Haven't you wanted to live among other people? To see the world?" he asked, baffled. "Why did you stay here?"

Because I kill people whenever I see them, I thought bitterly. I bit back the retort. Perseus only asked his question in such a way because he had no idea who I was. I would have to put up a strong façade to continue fooling him. Perhaps in the process I could find more answers as well.

"I prefer a peaceful life away from other people," I said. "I don't want to be bothered by anyone. Your ship's arrival was the worst disturbance I've had here in years." I finished cleaning away the grime from my hands and dried myself with a cloth. "And speaking of your ship, when do you think they'll be back?"

My heart thumped loudly in my chest, and I imagined Perseus could hear my anxiety. But despite my paranoia, he clearly suspected nothing.

"Two months, at best," he replied. "Maybe more. The summer storms will keep them from returning too soon, and beside that they will need to make all the preparations for another voyage. But they will return as soon as possible, to claim Medusa before the Argonauts can."

Two months. I exhaled deeply, trying to cheer myself up with the news. It was a long time, long enough to try to concoct a plan to save myself. I glanced at Perseus from the corner of my eye. His expression remained calm and undisturbed, though a spark flashed in his eyes as he talked of his men returning to the island. I quickly looked away.

"I don't want your soldiers coming to my island and disturbing my peaceful life again," I said, injecting clear venom into my voice. "When they return, you may leave with them, but I refuse to have an army traipsing around my island. If the debt you owe me for your life means anything to you, you will tell them to leave immediately."

I knew it was a hopeless attempt, but I still had to try. Perseus merely scowled in my direction, unaffected.

"I do owe you a great debt for saving my life," he said. "But we can't leave the island again, not without first taking the head of Medusa. I can promise you we will kill the monster as quickly as possible and then leave you to your peace."

I bit my lip hard, restraining my curses. I suppose death is a kind of peace, I ruminated to myself with a bitter irony. I took a deep inhalation, calming my frayed nerves. Hope was not all lost. The island of Sarpedon was large, with many, many hiding places invisible to all except those who knew the island well. I could easily keep myself hidden from the soldiers here, until they gave up on me and went home, concluding that the gorgon had already died years ago. Those men underestimated my ability to survive. Well, I would show them exactly what I was capable of.

"You won't take anything." My voice was sharp as a hawk's beak. "Because Medusa is already dead. You're on a hopeless quest."

He clenched his jaw, setting his lips into a thin line. "I won't believe that," he said through gritted teeth. "I can't. I need to complete this quest."

I cocked my head to the side, my gaze questioning. "Why?" I asked simply. "What's so important that you must risk your own life to kill Medusa?"

He shook his head, and turned his body away from me, his pale eyes flashing. His hands gripped the bed covers tightly at his sides, and I could feel the anger rolling off of him in waves, the resentment. I reluctantly let the issue drop. He clearly would not be sharing it with me any time soon.

I took a deep breath to clear my mind and softened my tone. "You must be hungry," I said. "Wait here, and I will get us something to eat."