Page 20 of Crown of Serpents

“Kleos, watch out!”

Medusa lunged for Kleos with a snarl, ducking beneath his blade and sending him crashing to the cave floor with a bone-jarring thud. The gorgon climbed on top of Kleos, clawing at his face in a frenzy. Kleos squeezed his eyes shut. For a few terrifying seconds, Perseus stood frozen as blood began streaming down his friend’s face. The serpents on Medusa’s head bared their fangs, stirring at the metallic scent.

This was his chance. Yet, his muscles protested at the thought of delivering the final blow. He had attacked her while she slept; could he blame her for defending herself, even as she tore at Kleos's flesh? But if he hesitated, his friend would be cut to bloody ribbons.

Perseus raised his shield, striking the gorgon with the flat side. Her unconscious body crumpled to the floor as his hands trembled with adrenaline. Kleos opened his eyes, wiping the blood off his face, but Perseus’s eyes remained fixated on Medusa. The serpents stopped hissing, lying splayed around her like a halo. Slowly, they transformed into beautiful curls of emerald hair, and Medusa looked peacefully asleep, just like moments before Perseus had interrupted her.

Kleos panted, “What are you waiting for? Finish her! She won’t stay unconscious forever!”

His friend was right. They had done it. They had defeated the infamous Medusa. Perseus raised his adamantine sword, but the hilt shook in his hand. This was his second chance to claim the gorgon’s head. He could fulfil his promise to Polydectes, settle his debt, and save his mother.

Still, he hesitated. The unconscious female before him looked nothing like the monster he had heard so many horrifying tales about. Indeed, Medusa had done nothing to harm him. When she attacked him, it was out of self-defence. He had woken herstanding with a raised sword.

With shaking hands, Perseus retrieved the adamantine shackles from his belt, the enigmatic gift from the crone and knelt next to Medusa’s unconscious body.

„What on earth are you doing, Perseus?”

Perseus couldn’t meet his friend’s gaze. The truth was, he didn't know. He was torn between his duty to his mother and a growing revulsion at the thought of killing this creature — or person even — for his own gain.

Perseus ripped a strip from his tunic, tying it over the gorgon’s eyes. Then, he secured the handcuffs around Medusa’s wrists, binding her arms behind her back.

“I’m taking a hostage,” he grunted, not meeting Kleos’s eyes.

He couldn’t kill her. Not today. Not yet.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Medusa awoke to a throbbing head and a blindfold obstructing her vision. Yet, she immediately knew where she was. If the wet planks beneath her and the rhythmic sway were not evidence enough, the stench of salty air, half-rotten food, and men who had not washed in weeks told her all she needed to know. She was on a godsdamned ship, probably in the middle of the Aegean Sea. Her stomach dropped. The oceans werehisterritory.

Medusa’s anger flared. She pulled against the shackles binding her wrists behind her back, but they were anchored to the ship’s hull and didn’t budge.

She had to get out of there — off this vessel, this floating prison crawling with monsters, who called themselves men.

Panic started rising within her — like the returning tide into the harbour, and she was shackled to the ocean floor. Medusa flung her entire weight against the chains. Her injured leg throbbed, and she hissed. Still, Medusa twisted around to bracea foot against the wall and pulled again with all her strength. The icy tides of her panic reached up to her chest now. She started clawing at her wrists. Somehow, these things had to come off. The water reached her chin. Soon, she would be pulled under — unable to breathe, unable to free herself, never able to reach the surface again. She would drown in her terror, chained, and forgotten on the ocean floor.

With a final, desperate lunge, she hurled herself against the chains. Her wounded leg buckled, sending her crashing to the splintering planks. Pain exploded in her hands.

A low voice materialised from the darkness, “You should probably stop doing that, or that leg will never heal.”

Her every sense heightened. Not only was she imprisoned on a ship, but there was a man in her cell — a man she couldn’t see. However, she could sense him. Her nostrils flared. He smelled of thyme, leather, and a hint of sweat — too clean for a fellow prisoner, so he must be one of the crew. Perhaps it was the same man with the messy curls and winged shoes, the one who had struck her down despite his youthful appearance.

Rage simmered in her blood. She would break free and make her captor regret ever setting foot in her cave. She scrambled to her feet and pulled against the shackles until her arms and back throbbed.

“I made sure those chains could hold a creature like you. Adamant withstands even immortal strength.”

Medusa gritted her teeth, digging her heels into the wood for leverage. Growing desperate, her snakes started gnawing at her blindfold. She cursed. How had they knotted this thing so tight around her head?

“Otherwise,” the voice continued, “I could never have convinced my crew to bring you here instead of claiming your head.”

His crew.

Medusa whipped her head around. Itwashim. This man was not just part of the crew holding her hostage, but he was commandeering the ship.Hehad knocked her out with his shield. Why had he brought her here?

“I’d rather have died in that cave than be trapped here withthe likes of you.”

His crew. His ship. His shield.

She had to get out of these shackles.

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