Page 95 of Crown of Serpents

Medusa rose to her feet, Poseidon’s trident in hand, as she faced the goddess that had abandoned the crying child who had prayed at her feet for protection. She gritted her teeth, her gaze fixated on Athena, forcing her to look away: “Why would I relinquish my powers? You told me you bestowed them upon me so I might protect myself.”

Anger flashed in Athena’s silver eyes. “Your powers were never meant to be used as a weapon against the gods.” Athena stepped forward, but her hesitation was telling. The goddess of war was afraid.

Medusa mused, emboldened by the goddess’s new-found fear.“Tell me this then,Athena, what good would the powers you have bestowed on me have been if they could not have protected me against a god? You and I both know that it was Poseidon who harmed me; it has always been the gods from whom I have needed protection. But you never meant to help me, did you? When he violated me in your temple, he dishonoured you as well. But you were too cowardly to face him, weren't you? Instead, you turned your wrath on me, cursing me, punishing me forhissins!”

The silver goddess was quiet for a moment, assessing her with a cold stare. “It would have been a poor strategy to risk my standing in the council of the gods as Zeus’s right hand for the misfortune of a single mortal.”

Medusa balled her fists as the words sunk in. She had lost her family and home because of power politics on Mount Olympus. Burning hatred filled Medusa once more. She struggled to leash the raw power in her core, beckoning her to tear through the goddess before her. But Athena’s blessing was the only thing that could save Perseus.

No, she wouldn't let the gods dictate her fate again. Medusa would keep her powers,andshe would save Perseus — or she would makethempay.

Medusa plucked Poseidon’s discarded trident, the celestial bronze thrumming in her hand. She advanced on Athena, whodrew her spear, its tip flashing in a warning.

“I will not relinquish my powers,” Medusa declared, “but youwillsave Perseus regardless.”

The goddess scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

“You will save his life because if he dies, I swear this to you and the other gods: I will claim Seriphos’ throne for myself, not in Zeus’s name but yours. I will raise armies in the name of Pallas Athena to conquer every city under the protection of another god until they eventually turn on you as you have turned on me. I won’t stop before they have expelled you from the council of the gods like you have chased me from your temple.”

Medusa’s words echoed between them, and Athena’s eyes widened. “You cannot threaten me. I am an Olympian goddess.”

“I believe I just did.”

A tense silence enveloped the room. Medusa’s skin prickled under the goddess’s silver gaze, seizing her up, estimating the size of the threat she posed. She prepared herself for Athena’s impending attack, flexing her exhausted muscles and drawing on her dwindling power. Her eyes flashed brightly, promising violence. Still, Medusa knew that Athena would eventually overpower her should she attack.

After what felt like an eternity, the goddess of wisdom fell for her bluff. With a resigned sigh, Athena loosened the grip on her spear.

“I will restore his life,” she said, her face impassive, “if you swear on the river Styx that he will rule Seriphos in his father's name ... and if you relinquish Poseidon's weapon.”

The bronze trident flashed in Medusa’s hand. She nodded, swearing in a solemn tone: “I promise.”

Silently, the goddess approached Perseus’s side. He was barely breathing, eyes unfocused. Athena knelt beside Perseus, reaching a graceful hand for his chest as a silver light emanated from her palm. The wounds in Perseus’s chest knit together, colour returning to his face. His eyelids fluttered.

When he gasped, sitting up in one swift movement, his eyes searching and finding hers, a cry tore from Medusa’s throat. She sunk to her knees, discarding Poseidon’s weapon.

Their hands and mouths met as they closed the space between them. She could feel warmth seeping back into his body as she buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent.

He would live. He would not leave her. He was hers.

Tears of joy streamed down her face as she kissed him. “I love you too, Perseus.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

Andromeda gasped for air, swallowing salt water instead. Her legs kicked uselessly against the churning current as Kleos’s weight pulled her beneath the surface. Yet, she tightened her grip on his thick arms, his charred skin bubbling beneath her palms.

I will always come to save you, Princess.His last words echoed in her head, leaving a hollow feeling in her chest.

Those wouldnotbe his last words. She refused to let him go like this.

With renewed vigour, Andromeda looped her arms under Kleos’s armpits and swam, ignoring the strain on her muscles or the pressure building in her skull from the oxygen loss. She kept her gaze raised to the sky, where the moon shone above the water’s surface. It seemed so close, as if she might break through it if only she stretched her arm. But she couldn’t, the cool night air remaining just beyond her reach as Kleos and her were caught amidst the dark water. She just wasn’t strong enough topull his deadweight above the surface. Her eyes burned in frustration.

Reaching Seriphos’s shore was meant to be the start of their journey, not the end. Thebes, Delphi, Themiscyra — he promised to show her those places. And now —

Suddenly, weathered hands grabbed her while another pair of arms wrapped around Kleos’s thick torso. Andromeda whirled to face a grim-looking Atticus, who pulled her out of Kleos’s embrace. Before she could protest, Aetos and Atticus began hauling him to the surface, swimming in coordinated strokes. She kicked her legs, desperate to stay close, swimming after the experienced sailors as fast as she could.

Andromeda sputtered as she broke the surface, coughing out seawater and sucking in ragged breaths. Her chest burned, each inhale like fire clawing at her lungs. Yet, her eyes stayed fixed on Kleos, his limp form suspended between Atticus and Aetos as they swam with steady determination toward the distant shoreline. Moonlight glistened on the remnants of his singed hair, patches of scalp exposed amidst blackened, charred strands. His skin was a battlefield of blisters and raw, scorched flesh — she almost couldn’t recognise Kleos.

“Andromeda!”Atticus’s voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and urgent. “Swim!”

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