Serpent and Stone

Chapter 19

I was jolted awake from sleep by a loud cry of despair ringing into the silent night. My foggy mind yearned to push aside the sound and return to peaceful slumber, but a split second later I froze, recalling that I was no longer alone on this island. Perseus.

I sat up swiftly and flung myself out of bed. My snakes curled lazily around my head, themselves just waking up. Still blinking sleep from my eyes and struggling to see in the darkened chamber, I made my way to the side of Perseus' bed.

My gaze quickly adjusted to the darkness, and I took him in. He was sitting up straight, his muscles rigid and body coiled with tension as he gasped for air. His face was paler than I had ever seen it. He looked as if he had just run a great distance and realized he had lost his way.

"Perseus," I said hurriedly. He jolted in surprise at the sudden sound of my voice, but I didn't want him to think he was still alone. "What is it? Was it a nightmare?"

He shook his head. A moment later, the tears began to stream down his face.

"No," he said, his voice rasping. He leaned back onto his pillow and turned his head away from me, a futile attempt to hide the tears. "It was the opposite of a nightmare. It was a fantasy. In my dream I could see again, I could see everything." He swallowed thickly, choking on the words. "And then I woke up to this pitch black, this nothingness. My sight was gone again."

I stared at him as he cried, as he mourned his lost sight, my heart calling out for me to do something, to stop his tears and chase the sorrow from his soul. My heart clenched painfully to see him that way, but there was nothing I could do. I was powerless, utterly useless. Nevertheless, I needed to comfort him in some small way.

"Nothing I can say will bring the dream back," I said. "Nothing I can say will return your sight." I hesitated, then reached out to him, covering his hand with mine. "I can't tell you that it won't hurt, that it won't be hard. But you will overcome this, Perseus." I hesitated before continuing on. "When I was young, I disobeyed my mother and went exploring the island on my own. I was foolish and naïve, as most children are. At the eastern cliffs, I was so distracted by the view of the sea that I slipped and nearly tumbled over the ledge. I only hung on by one weak hand. I cried out for my mother, but she was far away and did not hear me. I even cried out to the sea, asking my father for help, but he didn't listen either. There was nothing to rely on but myself. I pulled myself up and over onto solid ground- I did not fall." I glanced up to Perseus, seeing the tears drying on his cheeks. "I was alone. But you're not alone. You have me, so you don't need to be afraid. I'll do everything in my power to help you until your ship arrives to bring you home."

He said nothing for a long moment, only staring out into the distance with a soft, forlorn look in his eyes. I was about to return to my bed and leave him to his privacy when he suddenly lifted his hand and reached for me.

I stiffened. In an instant, I caught his wrist, stopping his hand before he could get too close. My snakes recoiled, instinctively darting away from his hand, which was much, much too close to discovering them. I stared at him with growing fear and horror. Had he already figured it out? Was he only reaching out to confirm his discovery of my monstrous identity? My stomach clenched in fear.

"What are you doing?" I asked breathlessly, fearing the worst.

He hesitated, his expression turning uncertain.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done that." He looked as if he wanted to say more, but was holding back. After another moment, he spoke again, his eyes full of such gentle warmth that I felt dizzy looking at them. "I wanted to feel what you look like. I wanted to see you."

My shoulders sagged in relief- he had not guessed who I was. He had not discovered me. A light, fluttery feeling filled my stomach at his request. He wanted to touch my face, to gain a clearer picture of what I looked like. It's not like I had not touched him before. I held his hand often when I wanted to lead him somewhere, and I'd had plenty of contact with him when I was healing his wounds. This felt different from those times though. It felt somehow... personal. Intimate. I couldn't let him accidentally brush against the snakes in my hair, but I found myself wanting to let him do it, so much so that I was willing to overlook that risk.

I tried in vain to release the nervous tension in my body, taking a deep, calming breath.

"I don't mind," I told him. "Just let me guide you."

He nodded. I reached out and gripped his hand in mine. Slowly, being cautious to keep my snakes at a safe distance, I brought his hand up to touch my face. His skin was soft against my cheek, his fingers slightly warm to the touch. I regarded his face carefully as his hand moved over my cheek and across the bridge of my nose, his touch careful and delicate. He had closed his eyes, and his brow was furrowed in concentration, as if he were committing everything he felt to memory.

I closed my eyes, and his fingertips danced over my eyelids, soft and light as falling snow. A pleasant chill travelled up my spine. I should have felt afraid, should have been terrified of having him so close to my snakes. By all reason, I shouldn't have indulged his request at all. But in spite of reason, I could not feel regret for agreeing to it. My snakes kept their distance, and I guided Perseus' hand carefully, keeping it away from my hair. I felt no fear, only a gentle wave of peacefulness, and beneath it a low thrum of happiness.

I guided his hand over my chin, his touch dangerously close to my lips. I opened my eyes to look at him, once again glad he couldn't see the embarrassing flush in my cheeks. His eyes remained closed, his expression neutral and focused. He gave nothing of his thoughts or emotions away, frustrating my growing desire to know them.

Once I deemed it had been enough, I pulled his hand away. I missed the warmth of his touch almost as soon as it was gone, but I let go of his hand and lowered my gaze. Shame washed over me, and fitful confusion. I should not be feeling that way about him- I could not. But it seemed as if my treacherous heart intended to betray me.

"Thank you," he said. He was smiling, a warm smile that was unfair in how dazzling it was. "I can see your face in my head a little clearer."

"Oh?" I replied. "And what do I look like?"

In spite of his blindness, it appeared as if his gaze looked straight into my eyes. "You're beautiful."

My face flushed darker as my stomach fluttered in mingled fear and joy. If only you knew, I thought mournfully. If only you knew the truth.