The Sixth Life of Medusa

20. The Trial [2]

Splat!

Tsss...

A harsh sulphuric odour rose from the melting spot on the stone ground and stung Medusa's nose. If she hadn't moved when she did, that would have been her—a sizzling smoking goop of dead flesh.

The bird having the same acid breath as an ekhidna made no sense. Nowhere had she read of such a creature existing.

Stop gawking and move to your left.

When Medusa obeyed Clotho's terse instruction, another splat hit the spot she had just escaped.

That will be the last time I give you a warning. Focus.

"An acid-spitting heron? How unexpected." There was a note of deranged glee in the herald's voice. "And for those who cannot tell due to the distance, May, daughter of Venetis, is unawakened. We are in for fantastic entertainment, Valonites!"

These animals wanted to see her suffer! Medusa gritted her teeth as annoyance surged. And that annoyance pushed away her panic and made way for fierce determination.

They expect me to fail. Their stare of crushing expectation pressed down on her. But I'll disappoint you. I will disappoint you all.

Clotho had said something about a lesson. If she could—

The heron pierced forward, beak moving like a rapier but Medusa leapt away again. A step of the bird covered three of hers. And it moved again and again, its sharp yellow gaze trained on her.

Do you feel it?

Feel what? Medusa asked as she fled from the bird, all her combat knowledge abandoned. Punches and kicks would not do. She had always been insanely fit in all her lives, so running shouldn't be a problem. That's if the heron didn't have some unfair advantage like superspeed or worse, taking to the sky.

Your leaps, the speed of your run. Do you notice anything different?

Medusa frowned, and then her eyes widened. Her speed had doubled, and there was something else... To test her suspicion, she leapt to the left and to her surprise, something gave her an extra lift before cushioning her landing.

How? Medusa asked in shocked excitement. This went beyond the norm. It felt like there were literal springs in her steps. This is amazing!

No time to sing about it. There was a stern note of urgency in Clotho's voice. In the air around you—even in the Grecian continent—there is aether. But in Tartarus, the air is thicker with it. You must learn to manipulate it.

How do—

With unexpected speed, the bird shot forward.

Medusa's heart sank as two horrifying realisations registered. The heron had superspeed, and she wasn't fast enough to escape the bird's coming attack.

She could only manage a slight shift to the left, turning at the last moment to shield her heart from direct impact. The heron's head slammed into her side.

A raw cry of agony ripped through her throat as the forceful collision sent her soaring through the air. Her lower ribs... the sawing pain made breathing impossible.

Collect yourself! You will crack your skull if you hit the ground without leaning into aether.

Clotho's warning came too late.

Crack.

Medusa's neck twisted as her temple struck the earth. The blinding pain. Nausea churned in her belly and travelled up. Her body would not move. Each breath was a blood-laced choked wheeze.