The progression through town was slow and steady. At one point, the streets widened into a large plaza surrounded by marvelous tall towers and huge white stone buildings with intricate carvings and friezes depicting kings, birds and artisans at work. The architecture alone indicated this had once been a magnificent city, maybe enough to rival Athens.
Maybe there had been a heyday of learning and art and pride in their surroundings, but they were long past that now. That almost made Perseus sad. All he saw now was decay and casual brutality. Men hung on hooks in the center of town, upside down, while bloodless, wraithlike people with no soul in their eyes walked back and forth, intent on their business and oblivious to anything around them. At least that last behavior still seemed human.
“There’s a path around them. To the right,” Medusa whispered.
“Okay,” he growled as they took on the slow, shuffling walk of the locals.
Hearing himself, he wondered who he was to call these beings’ humanity into question. He was swiftly on his way from demigod to demi-demon, and all because he couldn’t mind his business and had to be the hero of the day wherever he went. Medusa had called him out on it, and she’d been right.
That fucking narcissism again.If anything on this earth could kill him, it would probably be that one inherited “gift” from the Olympians. If he did die someday, fine, he’d go with grace like countless other mortal men before him. Except now he had others to worry about if he failed. Andromeda. Denaë. Medusa.
She readjusted her face and hair cover again, while Perseus pulled his wrap over his own head. Despite his increasingly monstrous features, he still looked decidedly human, and he’d be noticed.
“Not far now.” Medusa’s voice was quiet but even those three soft words drew stares from the gaunt faces around them.
They were more than halfway across the plaza when a local stumbled into their path, awkwardly falling into them while trying to cross the street. It was a soft enough thump, but it made Perseus uncharacteristically angry. He shoved it away without thinking. The creature didn’t apologize. Medusa glanced at him in warning, as if she could read his flare of unusually hostile energy. Then another creature stumbled into them, and another. The last one sniffed him, long and hard, and grasped his leg as it fell to his feet.
“What are they doing?” Perseus asked Medusa with alarm.
“Cetus knows we’re here,” she said suddenly, looking around. “He has a mind link with them through their prayers to him. It’s his way of keeping outsiders from his lair.”
“If you tell them we’re here to talk, will they listen?” he asked as more of them turned toward them and stumbled closer on loose but faster feet.
“No. They’re mindless vessels, not diplomats,” she said, exasperated. One of them grabbed at her.
“So… is this one of those sanctioned fights weshouldbe having?” Perseus asked as more of the wraiths came toward them.
“Yes.” Medusa tossed off her head covering, and with a twist of her hand, her baton extended to full length. She banged one silvery end on the ground and the spear shot out at the top, clicking into place.
Perseus paused, mouth dropping. “You’re really going to have to tell me who makes your gear.”
“Focus!”
Perseus watched while she went into full battle mode, her spear cutting down any creature who came close, and there were more and more. Bending, twisting, she twirled and arched the shining metal of death and ripped their flesh with her jagged, flashing wing tips until the ground around her was spoiled with gore.
Turning, Perseus saw several coming his way and he charged with his sword, striding toward his foes on a wave of raging power. It merged with the dark energy that sweet, fiery demonic blood had implanted in him, taking control of his body. Now the beast was loose. When the sword got stuck and pulled away from him, he kept going, realizing he didn’t need it. He was no longer the great hero Perseus, no longer fighting with nobility but with the sole desire to hurt, to become a living weapon, claws and fangs bringing ruin, dealing death.
There were too many. More of them arrived wielding clubs and knives. Despite the growing number of slain enemies, despite the fury raging in him to indiscriminately destroy everything in his path, he could only take down so many. He turned to check on Medusa and saw that she was about to be swarmed. Running to her, suddenly afraid for her, he skidded to a stop when she shouted at him. “Get down! Don’t look!”
Perseus dropped. He held up the shield Athena had given him for this moment; aside from being a guard, the specialized concave mirror would show Medusa, but her gaze couldn’t hurt him. Or so he hoped. Holding it up tilted in her direction, he saw her. She lifted her face to the air as she reached her arms outward, embracing the sky. Brilliant white light burst from her eyes and beamed over the crowd, the snakes of her hair writhing and dancing in the sun. The shimmer from her eyes touched the creatures, and one by one, as the sight blessed them, their souls left the earthly plane and their bodies turned to opaque white stone.
Perseus was too late to point out the wraiths jumping off buildings and launching themselves at her. Medusa spotted them and froze them with her gaze but their tumbling bodies became rock missiles aimed right at her. Wings folding around her body, Medusa braced herself, but she took the direct hit of two stone men and went down. Perseus’s heart stopped. But it revved up again as he scrambled to his feet and ran to her, tossing aside whatever few attackers were left in his path.
Her wings were still wrapped tightly around her. As he bent to touch them, they opened and there was Medusa, a little banged up, still shaking with adrenaline, but her spear at the ready. When she saw it was him she smiled, and despite the blood stippling her face it was the sun breaking at dawn all over again.
Medusa stood up, looking around at the destruction they’d caused, the speared bodies, the arcade of statues she’d carved with her deadly gaze. Together, they had slain two hundred at least. She didn’t look triumphant. She looked…sad. But resolute. She’d come here expecting this. And himself? As he surveyed the carnage, he was a little ashamed of howsatisfyingit was.
Perseus stood and embraced her carefully, conscious of the demonic strength still trembling in his arms. For a long moment, they simply breathed together, finding a moment of peace and comfort. Then he kissed her.
“You were magnificent. Let’s go find Cetus,” he said.
5
TERRIBLE DANGER
MEDUSA
She was in terrible danger. It wasn’t because of the small war they’d waged. It was because of him, because of Perseus and what he was forcing her to feel for him. It had only been a few days, that’s all. Just a few days, but this odd, new friendship with Perseus was growing more important to her than was healthy.
