Serpent and Stone

Chapter 11

I went to the stores in the back of the temple, a dark and cold room where I kept most of my foodstuffs. The room smelled strongly of salt and grain, the sharp scents filling my nostrils as I rummaged through the place for a quick meal. I hastily filled plates with dried dates and grape leaves stuffed with rice and peas. My snakes hovered over the plates with interest and I shook my head to shoo them off. I realized how hungry I was myself as my mouth started to water at the sight of it- I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, when I'd still been ignorantly picking oranges in the grove and fantasizing about all the things I would make with them. I huffed wistfully and returned to the temple's main chamber, where Perseus was still sitting up in the bed waiting for me.

I handed him the plate, sitting down heavily on the stool beside the bed. He murmured a quick thank you and then neither of us were able to speak as we both ravenously attacked the food before us. My stomach growled in appreciation as I finally came up for air, scraping the last bits of rice from the bottom of the wooden plate.

"Andromeda."

I jerked my head up from my plate, thinking that Perseus had meant to call me. But when I me this gaze, he was shaking his head with a small smile.

"That's a strange name, isn't it?" he said, arching a brow. "'Ruler of men'?"

I blushed, glad that he was unable to see it, and straightened my shoulders. Though it of course wasn't my true name, my mother had made up the name for her stories, and she'd always liked it well. Her name is Andromeda because one day she'll become queen of them all, she once told me with a conspiratorial whisper and sly smile. Just wait until the end of the story- you'll see. But I'd never know if Andromeda truly became queen at the end of her tale- my mother had died before she could finish it.

"My mother wanted me to believe I could achieve great things," I replied, instinctively defensive of her. "And you're one to talk. The name Perseus is just ridiculous. What kind of person names their child 'the destroyer'?"

He snorted. "If you knew my mother, it would make sense, trust me." He rolled his eyes, but his tone was affectionate. I hummed in acknowledgement, interested.

"Your father didn't name you?" I asked. My mother had explained to me that in most places, it was tradition for the father to name his children. An asinine tradition, in my view, but one that I'd had the impression was widely practiced.

"No," he said, another cryptic smile on his lips. "My father is Zeus. He isn't exactly known for waiting around for his children to be born."

My lips immediately curled into a deep frown at the name of the king of the gods. A new bout of nerves twirled through my chest at the realization that I had not taken in just any injured soldier, but a son of Zeus. The gods rarely left alone such powerful demigods, and the last thing I needed right now was another Olympian flitting down to involve his or herself in my life.

I, of course, was one of the notable exceptions to this rule. The gods loved to shower glory and honor upon their heroic sons almost as much as they loved to shame and ignore their monstrous daughters. It was as good as being invisible to Olympus, and I firmly wanted to keep it that way.

"No reaction?" He asked, arching a brow. "Most people are at least a little bit impressed."

Most people hold respect for the gods, not fear and disdain, I thought. But I would never say such a thing out loud, not for any reason. I had read too many horrific tales about what the gods did to those who offended them. I shuddered at the thought. Athena had punished me enough already- I would not give the other gods any reason to multiply my suffering.

"Most people have two mortal parents," I replied instead. I decided it was safe to give him a kernel of truth. "My father is Poseidon."

"Ah." He nodded, as if everything else made sense now. "I should have guessed it."

I frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?" I prided myself in how little I was like my father, how separate I was from him and all of his kind. I bristled with resentment at the thought of any similarity between us.

Perseus, at least, seemed to read the displeasure in my voice. "No, nothing- I didn't mean anything by it," he rushed to assure me, gesturing with his hands. "Only that the Fates seem to enjoy toying with and manipulating the lives of demigods more than almost anything else in their miserable existences. After everything I've seen in my life, it shouldn't have surprised me that you would also be a demigod."

I made a small disgruntled noise, but I did understand what he meant. The mortal children of the gods were always the ones who were chosen to play the great roles in history, and to fight for the gods whenever the need arose. Theseus, Heracles, Orpheus... I could go on and on listing them until I lost my voice.

A silence lapsed between us, long but not uncomfortable. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of the sunlight streaming in from outside, the warmth of it on my skin. My snakes took the opportunity to curl around my scalp, languidly basking in the sun's glow. After another moment, Perseus placed his finished plate beside him and turned his body to face me.

"You mentioned before that your mother lived here as well," he started. "Is she-?"

"Dead." I kept my voice completely blank of emotion. If I let myself think about it too much while speaking of her, I feared I would break into tears on the spot. "She died four years ago. I live on Sarpedon alone."

Dead for four years, and yet the wound still felt so fresh. I still woke up expecting to hear her humming as she washed clothes, to see her strolling into the temple with a freshly killed rabbit to skin. But she would never do those things again. Her body was buried in a grave just behind my garden, and her soul was wandering somewhere in the underworld. It was only a small consolation, that I could see her again one day in the realm of Hades. Though I dreamt of reuniting with her again after death, I also had nightmares of it: my soul being dragged down to Tartarus for my monstrous crimes, barred forever from meeting her in the fields of Asphodel where she waited for me, eternally broken-hearted. I winced, pushing away my darker thoughts and focusing on the present moment.

Perseus inclined his head forward to me, a gesture to express grief and empathy. Strands of his tawny hair fell into his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I can't imagine how painful that must have been."

I focused my sharp gaze on him, channeling my hurt and sadness into righteous anger. "Before she died, I promised her I would protect this island from outsiders," I spat. I promised her I would keep myself hidden and protected here forever. "If you were truly sorry, you would do as I asked: when your men return, tell them to leave and never step foot onto the shores of Sarpedon again."

He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening once more. "I can't do that," he said stubbornly. "We need to bring the head of Medusa back to King Polydectes. We have no other option. And even if I did tell them to leave, they wouldn't listen- not while Medusa was still within our grasp."

I swallowed thickly, turning away from him. His tone was firm, without any doubts or uncertainties. His men would return to this island inevitably. They would come to find me, to kill me.

I exhaled slowly. Breathe, Medusa, I chided myself. It's alright. When they come, you will hide. They will not find you.

The thought comforted me, if only for the moment.

"I don't wish to discuss it anymore," I said after a long silence stretched between us, as fragile as glass. "Get some rest. We will speak more tomorrow."