Page 45 of Crown of Serpents

The serpent thrashed and writhed, its struggles only tightening the net and driving the steel spikes deeper into its flesh. The creature shrieked in pain as black blood streamed down its body.

Medusa averted her gaze from the squirming creature to the shore, where Kleos hoisted Princess Andromeda atop the cliff. They had saved her.This was her moment.

As the men erupted in cheers, Medusa’s chains fell to the wooden deck with a clang, unnoticed in the jubilation.

Their victory was short-lived. Wild with fury and agony, Cetus lashed out with its enormous tail once more, hitting the ship to Medusa’s left — the one manned by the Joppan sentinels. The vessel buckled under the weight of the assault, wooden planks splintering and shattering like glass. The galley began to sink, and the men's cries carried on the wind as they were hurled through the air.

The serpent reared up with a guttural hiss, its immense body straining against the net until the thick ropes snapped with a resounding crack. Freed from its bonds, the beast erupted in a fury that plunged the world into chaos.

Cetus unleashed its fury on the vessel to Medusa’s right next. Panic seized the soldiers as they scrambled across the deck, attempting to escape the serpent’s wrath by jumping overboard. They were not fast enough. With a swift, devastating blow of its tail, it shattered the ship’s mast, crushing the sailors beneath the splintered wood.

Aetos bellowed, “Stay on your posts, you cowards! Engage the harpoons!”

That was when Cetus finally turned its attention to Medusa’s ship, where she was still backed against the mast. A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins as she stared into the serpent’s yellow eyes, razor-sharp fangs ready to strike. This was how she would die then — eaten by one of Poseidon’s wretched creatures.

Before she could curse the gods a final time, Perseus hurled himself at the serpent again. He aimed his sword at the serpent's head, but his weary strike missed its mark.

Though his voice was strained, he roared: “Get yourselves out of here! I can handle this! Get to shore! GO! GO! GO!”

What was he doing? He could not possibly defeat the serpent on his own. Still, the sailors followed his order and dove into the icy waves. Perseus made another attempt to fly around the beast’s head, drawing the creature's attention away from the fleeing sailors.

Medusa saw it then — he wasn't fighting to win; he was fighting to sacrifice himself to buy his crew time to escape.

Just then, as Perseus feigned another attack, the serpent whipped its tail, dealing the hero a devastating blow. Medusa watched in horror as her captor plummeted from the sky, his body limp and motionless. Fear and desperation surged through her veins. Time seemed to stretch, each second an eternity, as Perseus raced toward the water’s surface. He had sacrificed himself to save them.

She would not let it be in vain.

The shattered remnants of her shackles lay forgotten as Medusa hurled herself over the rail toward Perseus’s lifeless body. She ignored her throbbing thigh as she rushed toward the warrior’s limb body, floating close to the shore. Medusa kept her gaze fixed upon the serpent that rose from the boiling sea, opening its dripping maw to devour him. She kicked the water, even as hot blood gushed from her re-opened wound, anxious to reach Perseus before this monster could claim him.

With a sharp turn, she positioned herself between the serpent’s maw and Perseus, grabbing him by the tunic to haulhis head above the churning waves. She locked her stony gaze onto the beast's malevolent eyes. It was close enough that Medusa could feel the warmth of its foul breath against her skin. One snap of its jaws would end them both. But Medusa refused to die like this. She refused to be defeated by Poseidon's pet. She would not let the man at her side die either.

Medusa held her ground. As she stared at the beast towering over her, an ominous hush fell upon the bay. Time seemed to slow as Medusa's gaze met that of the serpent, and with an unyielding will, she reached deep within herself, summoning the lethal power that thrummed beneath her skin. Killing a mortal barely took her any effort, but for this, she neededmore. She delved into the darkness within, where the monstrous essence of her curse resided and unleashed its full fury.

Cetus lunged for a final attack, and its roar was met with the hissing of a hundred snakes writhing on Medusa’s head. A surge of energy emanated from her, cascading like a spectral wave toward the creature. The serpent's movements froze mid-attack as it turned to stone by the weight of her power. The petrification spread like wildfire from the maw, which was inches from Medusa’s face, over the scaled body toward its thorned tail — until Poseidon’s serpent was nothing but a colossal marble statue stranded on Joppa’s shore.

Medusa would have sighed with relief if the throbbing in her thigh had not returned the moment the threat was neutralised. While adrenaline had allowed her to ignore the hot blood streaming from her newly reopened wound before, searing pain coursed through her with each kick of her infected leg now as she fought to stay afloat.

A groan from Perseus jolted her back to the present. She swam for the shore, dragging him behind her. When they finally reached the shallows, she scooped up his limp body, cradling him in her arms, and stumbled toward the shore where his crew had escaped to safety. He was heavier than she expected, but Medusa would not allow her legs to cave in. She was more determined than ever not to show weakness — not after her display of power. Not while the sailors' reactions remained uncertain; would they celebrate or condemn her lethal gifts?

Gritting her teeth against the pain, Medusa pushed through the surf. As she reached the shore, the eerie silence was broken by the frantic pounding of footsteps. Kleos, having somehow descended the cliff, raced toward her, his eyes fixed on Perseus's unconscious form. Medusa stumbled and swore, almost falling face-first into the sand. Kleos's strong arm caught her, but the blinding pain in her leg was too much. As he gently lifted Perseus from her grasp, darkness claimed her, and she collapsed into oblivion.

CHAPTER THIRTY

She was meant to die today. Instead, Andromeda found herself cradled in the arms of the same brute that had freed her from the cliff despite her protests. He had broad shoulders and towered over the band of warriors who hauled their injured on the only galley to survive the battle. An elderly man carried the limp body of the woman with the emerald hair who had miraculously saved them. The hero with the winged shoes, Perseus, she recalled, had regained consciousness and leaned hoisted over another warrior’s shoulder. He ordered the elderly sailor, buckling beneath the woman’s weight, to carry her toward a cabin below deck.

Andromeda's gaze drifted to the shore, where the colossal marble form of Cetus, the sea serpent, now stood as a chilling reminder of the day's events. She had meant to die today to appease the vengeful god, but these “heroes” had slain the beast that had come to claim her.

The giant lifted her over the rail and set her down with agentleness that was completely at odds with his rugged appearance, the angry claw marks on his face, “There you go, Princess.”

Andromeda snatched her hand from his rough palm, shivering as the morning wind replaced the warmth of his embrace. Her gown was torn and drenched in saltwater.

He gestured toward a nearby cabin beneath the raised quarterdeck, a boyish grin spreading across his scarred face. “Welcome aboard, Princess Andromeda. Let me show you where you can stay for now while we figure out … well … while we figure things out.”

They stopped before the cabin door. The man opened the door for her, but Andromeda had stopped dead in her tracks. What did these men want with her? Was she being kidnapped?

When Andromeda didn’t move, the brute ducked inside himself, carefully avoiding the low ceiling, and lit an oil lantern. He grabbed a few sheepskins and draped them over a straw cot in the corner. Then, he scooped up a pile of rusty weapons in his muscular arms and threw them next to Andromeda on the deck.

Leaning against the doorframe, he flashed a satisfied smile. “There, all set. It probably doesn’t compare to the finery you are used to, but we’ll make up for it with our excellent company.”

---