Page 106 of Courting War
The place felt like a whispered secret from old wives’ tales.
Theo stumbled, catching her balance on the emerald stone path which led up to Medusa’s cozy cottage. It was a relatively small house with a thatched roof made from snake skins and doors formed of rosewood and nightingale hearts.
Daydreams and twisted hopes lingered on the soft manufactured wind surrounding the building, warning intruders away and welcoming guests.
Theo wasn’t sure which category she belonged in.
“You know what I was pondering the other day?” Havyn tapped her chin as Theo’s hand hovered over the door.
“What?”
“Braids.”
“Are you serious?” Theo grumbled, “Is this truly the time?”
“There’s always time for discussing braids.” Havyn wiggled her nose. “There are so many things you can braid. The obvious objects like hair and cords, but there is also magic like strings of life or even clothing . . . Did you know you can braid food together?”
“I don’t care.” Havyn was so random sometimes, and Theo had no patience for it. So she ignored her sister.
Knocking on the door, Theo shook out her jaw, it ached from clenching it too tightly, and she squared her shoulders back, trying to swathe herself in confidence like a shield.
The light chatter drifting from the cottage stilled, and Medusa slowly opened the door as if expecting an invasion.
“Great goddesses,” she said, glancing back at her two sisters, who sat around a table with a tea tray.
It was a bit late for tea, but who was Theo to judge? Perhaps gorgons lived on different schedules than humans. Theo didn’t know because she had never cared enough to find out.
Medusa swallowed uncomfortably, her snakes rearing up and hissing. “Would you two like to come in and join us?”
Theo flinched and braced herself for a long, awkward conversation. She still was utter shit with human emotions. And while the gorgons were monsters, they were once human. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.”
A cheerful mask slid over Medusa’s features. “It would be our pleasure.”
She guided Theo in, set two places at the table, and poured tea, her hands shaking. “Why have you honored us with a visit?”
Sthenno and Euryale openly glowered at the goddesses, their snakes coiling, hissing, and striking out at the surrounding air. Medusa’s sisters were not impressed.
A hundred eyes tracked Theo’s every movement, from the ringing of her hands to the breaths she took. Snakes slithered on the ground, hung from plants and furniture, coiled around chairlegs, and sat on the chair meant for the mortal goddess—and half of them were highly venomous.
Theo’s eyes traced the snake on her chair, a lancehead viper—extremely deadly and incredibly unhappy with her presence.
Medusa followed her gaze and said, “Oh, sorry.” She scooped the snake up and placed it around her neck. “Please sit.” She waved at the now empty chair.
“Don’t mind me. I’ll stand,” Havyn said, examining a snake in the corner. “I’m just here as the magic.”
Theo nodded, her stomach roiling. Not a fan of snakes—especially not of ones lethal to a human body. Theo placed her hands in her lap, her fingers twitching with unease and anticipating an uncomfortable conversation.
Like ripping off a bandage, Theo came right out with it. “Do you like your powers?”
The only signs of Medusa’s surprise were the slight widening of her eyes—which she quickly suppressed with her mask—and the vein in her jaw ticking. A saccharine smile danced on her mouth as she sat in thought. Her snakes were less controlled, and at the words they all coiled in on themselves.
“Playing in the Sacrifice has brought to my attention some facts about myself and my actions that I dislike.” Theo lifted her chin and straightened her back, trying to lend herself physical courage. “When I bestowed you with power all those years ago, I thought I was protecting you, giving you a way to defend from vile men, but I never asked if it was the right thing to do. I never gave you a choice, and I think my solution might have been more of a curse than a boon.”
Silence hung over the room like a corpse bride’s veil. Black, depressing, and devoid of hope. Nervousness licked the air, the gorgons sharing hesitant looks. They had to be thinking it was a trap.
“It’s not . . .” Theo raised her hands, and every snake in the room followed the movement, shifting back and forth. “It’s not a trap. I know it’s hard to believe me because I’m a villain, but Imean what I say, and I would like to make it right. I want to alter the spell.”
“Alter the spell,” Medusa parroted, her brows creasing together.
