Page 19 of Crown of Serpents

Her mother beamed at the Egyptian prince, but Andromeda could not help but blush. She had never been comfortable with flattery, but she supposed it was just part of the game of courtship.

As the conversation continued, Andromeda fought to maintain her composure, but she could not help but feel a sense of unease. Was it the impending prospect of marrying a cunning prince whose smiles never reached his cold eyes? Was it because no one seemed to notice the silent retreat of the Cretan envoy? Or was it something else, something deeper, more ominous? Thunder began rolling in the distance.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A damp, earthy scent greeted Perseus as he slipped into the cave, the darkness swallowing him whole. His breaths were slow and deliberate as he crept forward into the gorgon’s lair, his eyes adjusting to the dim light as he scanned the ground for loose rocks or uneven footing.

Perseus glanced over his shoulder, ensuring Kleos remained at the designated spot at the cave mouth. They had a hushed quarrel while climbing the trail. Kleos wouldn’t understand that his presence in the cave would only distract Perseus from the fight ahead if he constantly had to worry. Kleos did not share the protection of the gods: No magical shield to glance upon their enemy without being petrified, no winged shoes to escape her grasp. Indeed, it was better that Kleos had begrudgingly stayed behind with the king’s guard, even with his insistence on storming the cave should Perseus cry for help.

Ahead, the tunnel that led deeper inside the mountain took a turn. A rat skittered across the muddy floor, and Perseusflinched. The hilt of the adamantine sword grew slick in his palms, the blade’s faint glow illuminating the cave walls. Perseus pressed forward, creeping into the darkness.

Finally, an opening loomed at the end. Perseus squinted, waiting for something to stir within the cavern beyond. Silence. Perseus crept forward, his heart pounding. This was madness, he knew, to confront a gorgon in her lair.

The cave mouth opened before him, and he froze in his tracks. A slumbering figure curled up in the corner, emerald hair spilling over her shoulders. There was nothing monstrous about the sleeping woman. On the contrary, she was the most beautiful being he had ever seen. Entranced, he stepped closer, the sword in his hand utterly forgotten. Perseus knew she wasn’t mortal, but he couldn’t bring himself to see the monster he had come to kill in her. He searched her face for an answer, his gaze trailing over the delicate arch of her brow, the soft bow of her lips. His eyes fell on the cascade of hair billowing around her face — not a single serpent in sight. Yet, the lush green of her strands made him hesitate. He had heard tales of wood nymphs — dryads — their hair mimicking the hues of the trees they inhabited. Perseus edged closer, careful not to wake her.

Her nose twitched, sensing a subtle shift in the air, the scent of an intruder. Perseus closed his eyes just before hers fluttered open, stumbling blindly away. As she stirred, hissing filled his ears, and he remembered the shield in his hand. He risked a glance at its polished surface, watching as the gorgon rose, her emerald locks transforming into a writhing nest of vipers. Her glowing eyes fixated on him, her body still as she assessed the threat.

Perseus’s heart galloped in his chest as he realised his mistake. He missed the chance to slay the gorgon without any risk. It would have been easy, albeit an act of cowardice, to kill her in her sleep.

“Come to finish me off, mortal? How brave of you to seek me out on your own.” She tilted her head, a predator seizing up its prey.

She lunged for him, her speed blinding. Perseus would never have been able to evade her attack without Hermes’s wingedsandals, which suddenly came to life. As he leapt, they carried him beyond her reach, and he hovered for a moment, tightening the grip on his sword. She let out a snarl that echoed through the cavern.

The gorgon advanced once more, sharp talons gleaming on each hand. She slashed for his abdomen, trying to gut him with her bare hands. He hurled himself sideways, the sandals carrying him farther than expected and slammed against the cave wall. His head throbbed from the impact, but he had no time to recover, for she was upon him again. Perseus brought his shield up between them. Pinned between the enraged gorgon and the cold stone, Perseus knew he had to act. With a powerful kick, he sent her sprawling backwards, buying himself a few precious seconds.

Medusa glared up at him, a vicious smile spreading across her ethereal face that exposed elongated canines. “I’m going to kill you slowly for this.”

The serpents on her head hissed in unison as if roused by her promise. But as she rose, Perseus noticed her limp. A wound on her thigh had reopened, a trickle of blood running down her leg.

Perseus raised his adamantine sword and charged. He whirled and slashed in fluid movements, honed by countless hours of practice with Kleos on Seriphos's beaches. It was like cutting through water. Despite her injury, the gorgon was impossibly swift, dodging and weaving, her eyes hungry for his gaze.

Perseus gritted his teeth in frustration, his gaze on her feet, cautious not to face her. He faked left, forcing her to jump on her wounded leg, then swung his blade in a wide arc. But once again, Medusa was too quick. She stepped inside his reach, her hand darting out to knock the hilt from his grasp before he could land the blow. The sword clattered to the ground. Defeated.

The gorgon prowled toward him, savouring her victory. Perseus retreated, raising his shield, his last defence. His back hit the wall, a rock digging into his shoulder blades. He glanced toward the cave mouth; the tunnel lay on the other side of the cave, but even with Hermes’s winged sandals, Perseus would not make it past the gorgon in time.

Suddenly, Kleos charged into the cave, his sword raised, a battle cry on his lips, the king’s epetae at his heels. Medusa whirled to face the intruders, and Perseus lunged for his fallen sword. He would have raised his sword in triumph then, echoing his friend’s cry, but when he lifted his gaze … his blood ran cold.

Where a guard had stood just moments before now stood a marble statue, frozen in terror. Kleos, his eyes shut, swung his sword blindly, desperately trying to keep the gorgon at bay. The arrogant sneer had melted off Linus’s face as he stared in shock at his fallen soldier, his sword almost slipping from his grasp. The sound of another sword clattering to the ground echoed against the cave walls. Erastus, with a shriek of terror, turned and fled.

Medusa let out a chilling laugh, her amusement fuelled by their fear. Perseus shivered.

Linus’s cold voice rang out, firm but laced with panic, “Hold the line! If another idiot runs after Erastus, I’ll cut his balls off myself.” Perseus shot the captain a thankful glance before Linus added, “We hold, but we don't engage. Let these two heroes handle the beast.”

Linus sneered at him then, and Perseus understood. Their survival hinged on defeating Medusa. The guards would offer no aid, but they would also prevent any escape — should Kleos and Perseus attempt to retreat.

Perseus stepped over to Kleos, raising his shield in front of his friend and tightening his grip on the sword. “We advance side by side. Use the reflection of the shield to watch her. Don’t look at her directly.”

Kleos nodded, his expression untypically solemn, “Together.”

They moved as one, slowly closing the distance. In the shield’s reflection, Perseus saw Medusa cock her head, beckoning them with a clawed finger. He swung from the left while Kleos thrust from the right. Medusa spun, evading both attacks, but they’d forced her back a step.

“Drive her to the wall!” Perseus gritted out.

They attacked, forcing her to twist and turn, her reach too short to slice them with her sharp nails. Sweat beaded on herbrow as she yielded ground, the blood from her thigh flowing freely now.

Medusa was finally caught between the rocks at her back and their blades, her eyes wide with fear — a cornered animal.

For a moment, Kleos’s eyes shone with triumph as he wielded his sword, swift and precise — a moment too soon.

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