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And then Athena was gone.
Medusa gasped as pain lanced her head.
Her eyes pressed against their lids, as if they were being forced from their sockets. Her vision was distorted, tinged with red and faded in its details.
A ripple of pain coursed down her neck, then shot up the back of her head again. Her suffering intensified as some invisible coil wrapped about her temples, pressing unmercifully against her tormented skull.
She bit her lip, catching her cry, as she crept from the temple. Another ripple spilled over her, sharper and hotter than the first. She stumbled down the steps.
The sun was blinding, each agonizing ray of light searing her eyelids. Her hands came up to shade herself, but she could not stop the pricks of fire that scorched her eyes.
She could not steady herself. With each step, the throbbing in her head grew heavier -- crippling. The sun was high, punishing her with its brilliance. How then could she feel no heat upon her skin? An uncontrollable shivering began, jarring the ache in her neck and head
enough to make her cry out. The shivering intensified, forcing her to pause. The pain churned her stomach until she retched upon the ground. She drew in breath and set off, slowly.
The path was too unsteady to scale without careful attention.
But she could not bear to open her eyes.
As her foot slipped on the shale stones of the path, she pitched forward. Her hands flailed, but there was no foot or handhold to use to catch herself. She did not see the pointed outcrop of rock, and felt little else once her head struck its corner.
Her pain and worries were lost in darkness.
Chapter Ten
It was dark. But then, no sunlight reached Hades’ house.
It had taken all of Ariston’s persuasion, and patience, to gain audience. The Judges of the Dead thought him foolish and told him so.
“You would trade eternal paradise for eternal servitude? For a woman?” Aeacus had shaken his head. “Go forth, stay in Elysium for a few days. This woman will pale.”
“You are more foolish than most, soldier, to offer such a bargain. Few who shared your journey on Charon’s ship will go to Elysium. You are honored, yet you cast it aside?” Minos sneered, sparing him only the briefest glance. “Hades will laugh at you.”
“Does Hades laugh?” Rhadamanthys asked, with wide eyes. “That is a sight I’ve yet to see in my time here.”
“No, he does not laugh,” Aeacus said quickly.
“I would ask him myself,” Ariston said. “I must try.”
Minos snorted.
Rhadamanthys sighed. “Hades’ mood is bleak as of late, soldier. I fear your request will fall on deaf ears.”
They continued in such a manner until Ariston feared the loss of his temper. But Minos saved him, waving Ariston away with a muttered, “Follow the road.”
Now he stood in Hades’ dark house, waiting once more.
Shadows filled each corner, while whispers of things unseen made Ariston tighten defensively.
He had no time for this. He had to get back to her – he had to get back to his lady.
The man who entered the room was not what he expected. Hades was tall and well muscled. His face was youthful, with a close cropped beard and smooth, pale skin.
“You asked for an audience, you have it. Now tell me, where do you belong?” Hades’ voice was deep, emotionless.
Ariston swallowed. “Athens.” He met Hades’ gaze, but the God revealed nothing to him.
“Why? You died with honor and glory. Is that not what every soldier wants?”
