The Sixth Life of Medusa

22. The Dog House

"This is the head of Dog House." The escort Nestor assigned to Medusa nodded at a slouching boy of about seventeen. "He will guide you." Before Medusa could give a reply, she turned and left.

Medusa stared after the escort until she took a bend. This almost felt like her first day as a priestess, only she had her sisters then and there were no trials. Oh, and she wasn't required to stay in a dorm that clearly lacked structural integrity.

Unlike the grand structures she passed on her way here, the Dog House's dorm had large cracks spanning its walls and towering pillars. Thick vines from the surrounding bushes spread over the crumbling surface and burrowed into the cracks.

Demeter must really love the dogs.

"I'm May," Medusa said as she returned her attention to the boy.

"Vyron," he replied with a nod, then a puzzled frown wrinkled his brow. "Still hard to believe they gave you to us."

Medusa shrugged and looked around some more. Turfs of grass across the stone ground, and at the centre of the expansive frontage was a dead fountain holding a dilapidated sculpture of a cerberus.

"It's true what they said. You're unawakened." There was awe in Vyron's voice.

Medusa's gaze slid back to him. Now that she observed him closely, she saw he had the haggard appearance of a person shackled with burdensome responsibility. Were the dogs that hard to manage? Or his tired look could be a front—appear unassuming and strike when her guard was down. Now that Medusa thought of it, there may be deities playing mortal in Drys Valon, too. Chilling unease crept up her spine.

"You seem like a quiet one."

Medusa blinked at him and shrugged again. "If... if you think so."

The beginning of a headache throbbed behind her eyes. "Can we go in now?"

"Sure." He made his way to the low steps leading to the tall weather-beaten dorm door. "Fair warning, the dogs may not be as powerful as those from other houses, but they are twice as mean and opportunistic. Instructor Nestor may have told you."

"Instructor?"

"You too? I also couldn't tell at first. Face too young." Vyron motioned at his own face. "He's the head gymnasiarch and a low deity. You'll see him often... and loathe his training," he added with a wince.

"Noted." I really need to sleep. Medusa blinked hard to shake off her rising drowsiness.

Vyron's gaze dropped to the box she held. "You may have to ask someone to keep that in their pocket."

"Pocket?"

Vyron paused midstep, expression shifting from exhausted to mild surprise. "You do not know what a pocket is?"

Medusa shook her head.

He stretched an arm and flicked his wrist. A wooden practice sword appeared in his grip. "We are not allowed to keep real weapons in it. More talented students have larger pockets."

"Oh." So that's what it's called. She made a mental note to ask Clotho how to create one.

Vyron paused as if waiting for her to say more. When she said nothing, he continued speaking. "I'll recommend some trustworthy people." He stopped at the base of the steps. "Aether stones are beyond precious here. Having those puts a target on your back."

"I see." Medusa winced as the pain of her headache doubled.

So, aside from settling in, she had to trust a stranger to keep her property safe. She took a closer look at the stones. They resembled red opals the size of a chicken's egg, but in their core, a dim yellow mass swirled. Another odd thing was that she wasn't feeling any sensitivity to the stones like she did in the past.