Page 85 of Crown of Serpents

He didn't. He knew Medusa was capable. But the thought of her risking her life for his family ... his stomach churned.

Medusa gently pried open his fingers, interlacing them with her own. “Let me do this, Perseus. Focus on ending Polydectes’s reign.” The green fire in her eyes intensified. “We will win — just like you promised.”

Perseus cupped her face, barely registering the presence of the others as he held her gaze.

Kleos cleared his throat, patting him on the shoulder. “She’s right, Perseus. You have to be the one to overthrow Polydectes — just like you promised Athena.”

It was the second time these two had agreed. Perseus suddenly understood Andromeda’s fury when they had teamed up against her — still, they were right once again. The reminder of his oath to the goddess of wisdom and warcraft, the weight of responsibility, settled upon him. The crew had followed him to the gates of this forsaken palace, not Kleos or anyone else. He alone was responsible for their lives and the success of this mission. He could not abandon it to run off and save his family.

Perseus gritted his teeth. “Fine.”

“I will go with her,” Kleos offered.

His reassuring smile was a silent promise: he would keep Medusa safe.

Perseus’s throat bobbed. He would hold his friend to it.

Surprisingly, Medusa did not protest against Kleos’s offer.

“The dungeon is next to the kitchens. When you reach them, go down the stairs to the right, and you will find the prison cells.” Orestes explained, but his voice was distant.

Electricity hummed in Perseus’s blood, his eyes following Medusa and Kleos as they disappeared into the darkness.

For the first time in his life, Perseus sent a prayer to the gods. He would give anything for her to live.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Medusa and Kleos crept through the dimly lit hallways of the palace, their footsteps barely a whisper against the cold marble floor. They stuck to the shadows of the thick pillars that lined the colonnade to the women’s chambers and turned left toward the kitchens.

She had expected servants to be bustling about the narrower hallways, but the servants’ quarter was eerily still. The hair on Medusa’s neck rose in apprehension. They descended the narrow stairs leading to the dungeons. Medusa pressed against the damp wall as they spotted a light flickering ahead. Two guards.

Medusa smirked. She had spent the past days in torment; the abandoned cottage, the signs of a struggle, had haunted her. She had dreaded telling Perseus about what had happened, but now only two guards stood between her and the family of the man she had grown to care for.

She nodded to Kleos, and they struck. Before the guards couldcall for help, Kleos had smashed the hilt of his sword against the taller man’s temple. The man slumped unconscious to the ground. Medusa pinned the other guard against the wall, fumbling for the chains on his wrist. He struggled against her, and Medusa hissed in his face, cursing Perseus’s order to use minimal violence.

She drew a bead of blood from the guard's neck. “One wrong move and I’ll slit your throat.” Medusa gagged the guard with a piece of her tunic and chained him to a cell.

Kleos shook his head at her.

“What? Perseus didn’t say I couldn’t threaten a painful death.”

They hurried deeper into the dungeon, the flickering torchlight revealing rows of haggard prisoners. Despite the commotion, most of the prisoners had not moved. They sat slumped against their cell walls, either asleep or too weak to wonder who had broken in. Kleos cursed, frantically searching for Danae and Dictys. Medusa followed silently, fighting the pang of guilt in her gut as they passed the cells. They had no time to free them all.

Finally, Kleos stopped short. “By the gods … what happened to you, Dictys?”

The old man’s body was battered and bruised, red, angry gashes covering his upper body. Kleos unlocked the cell and gently lifted him. Dictys groaned in pain, tears of anger welling in Medusa's eyes.

“Where is Danae?” Kleos urged, while supporting Dictys’s broken body.

Grief flashed in the old man’s eyes as he shook his head. “Polydectes …” He coughed, blood flecking his lips.

Medusa and Kleos exchanged a panicked glance. Medusa’s stomach dropped as images of Danae’s lifeless eyes while Polydectes forced himself inside flashed through her head.

Kleos hoisted Dictys over his shoulder, and they broke into a run.

“We have to find her,” Medusa said between gritted teeth, her heart hammering at the prospect of searching the entire palace without raising the alarm.

Kleos glanced at the unconscious man in his arms. “He won’t make it, I have to —”

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