The Sixth Life of Medusa

44. Stones and Daggers [2]

Medusa gawked at the tiny aether spot only to return to the present when a sharp pain blossomed at her side. In her distraction, one of the priestesses had managed an attack.

Swallowing an agonised groan, Medusa stabbed backwards, her blade aimed where a face should be. But there was a problem; in her pain and shock, she pumped too much aether into the attack.

Aether reserve now dangerously low, she ripped off her attacker and stumbled forward. Gripping her bleeding side, she spun around and brandished her dagger in blind defence. The statue she stabbed had not fallen. Though half her face was gone, she stood and glared at Medusa with one good eye.

Wheezing through clenched teeth, Medusa staggered towards the aether spot while holding up her blade. Blood poured from the wound, slid down her leg and made each step wet and sticky.

When dizziness set in, she gave her head a firm shake. "Stay back!" she spat through her harsh pants.

The statues ignored her command and continued forward, holding their daggers ready. Soon, one or all of them may attack.

Medusa hastened her steps and sagged with relief when she finally entered the spot, but her relief didn't last. As a rush of aether flowed into her reservoir, instinct told her it wouldn't be enough. Her wound was too severe. But that was fine. Now that she knew the treasure each statue held, anticipation quickened her breath.

Straightening after retrieving her dagger, she reduced the aether flow to her wound to a thin, steady stream and gritted her teeth at the answering pulse of pain. What mattered was how well she managed her aether reserve while maintaining peak speed; pouring it like she did before couldn't work.

Deciding to go all out, Medusa shot forward. As she flung her dagger at the nearest priestess, she slashed at the arm of another rushing in from the left. As fast as she had attacked, she leapt back and noticed with sweet satisfaction that her throw had hit its mark. Now another aether spot glowed in the crumbled remains of the priestess.

Two down. Four more to go.

Seeing how fast their sisters had fallen, the others attacked in a burst of unnatural speed. But Medusa was faster, and as she moved, she grew more efficient with her aether output following each strike. It didn't help that she also knew their dagger movement well enough to predict their movement.

She ignored all the aether spots, refusing to get distracted like the first time. Each slice, stab or throw was precise. But as she slayed stone after stone, she felt it. Eyes on her. Which was strange. The door was still shut, so who was watching her?

Shaking off the disconcerting feeling, Medusa slashed at the final priestess. She was the half-faced statue who was slower than the rest, courtesy of her one eye. To sharpen her skill further, she took her time with the final priestess, testing how efficiently she could stretch what remained of her aether. When the statue became too battered to function, she stabbed her chest and watched the final aether spot wink into existence.

Dragging in a refreshing breath after taking the last aether spot, Medusa swiped an arm across her sweaty brow. Her reservoir overflowed like when she got slammed into the aether spot in her first trial.

A smile twitched the corner of her lips. This felt nice. The thought of Perseus waiting at the other side of the door wasn't so scary. With breathing, she'd turn them to dust in an instant.

Daggers held ready, Medusa turned to do just that when the orbs flickered. Tensing up, she took careful steps towards the door as she glanced behind. Nothing seemed out of place. The rubble of the fallen priestesses remained scattered about, and the only other statue—