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“We need food,” Euryale said as they left the hut. “I tire of berries and nuts.”
“If she would eat,” Stheno replied.
“I will eat it.” Euryale laughed.
Medusa listened to the sounds of their fading bickering, ceasing long after they’d disappeared from sight.
They would not leave her be. They forced her on, to sleep and move and dress and talk. When she would lie still and do nothing.
She removed the wrap from her head, lightening some of her burden. They fell about her instantly, stretching and writhing in pleasure at being set free. Whispers, tongues – they slithered amongst themselves and assessed their surroundings with mesmerizing ruby eyes.
She refused to look at them, though they tried to capture her attention.
That they were joined to her, she could not deny. But she would not acknowledge them. She could not.
They were evil.
She stood, moving to the small window set in the crudely built wall of their latest home. It was sunset. She had no reason to fear the pain of the sun, time had healed that much. Yet she shaded her eyes anyway, a habit now.
The sun stained the sky rose and pink, painting the clouds with gilded edges and feather-like whimsy. She stared, unable to appreciate the picturesque view or the soothing sounds of evening. The ache was there, gnawing on her stomach with unrelenting torment.
She missed him. How she wished she could join him, if only for an instant.
“I will not think on him,” she whispered. It was an oath she repeated daily but could not keep.
Her mind resurrected every moment they’d spent together. Yet, when such memories faded, her agony was greater still.
In the early hours of dawn, she recalled his features as he’d lain beside her.
In sleep, his face was both peaceful and relaxed. His lips parted. His breath had brushed across her shoulder, warm and heavy.
This was not the careful, ready man of the day. This was her lover, gentle and sweet.
She’d moved closer to him, letting his heat seep into her.
His lips had pressed against her temple. “Are you awake?” he’d whispered.
She turned to him, pressing a soft, lingering kiss upon his lips. This was the only answer he needed from her. His hands had been warm as they’d moved over her.
She shivered now. Even the sun could not warm her. In the heat of the day, when the sun made the air crackle with its heat, she shivered still – another part of her punishment.
How she missed warmth.
One serpent pressed against her jaw, slithering up her cheek and across her forehead. It was cold on her skin.
As cold as my heart.
She would not push it away, no matter how much she wanted to. She’d learned her lesson. While their poison did not kill her, she’d been struck by a fever that lingered for two days, the wounds swollen and aflame. She was mindful of anything that slowed their travel. She feared discovery, knowing her curse would bring suffering to others.
That she had no control over them was without doubt, it had been part of Athena’s curse. Strangely, they had no interest in hurting her – as long as she was careful of them. At times they seemed to woo her, bobbing in front of her to stare expectantly at her. She would close her eyes until they’d gone.
Another serpent moved, resting along her shoulder to peer out at the hills and mountains stretching out before them.
She missed the sea. She missed the sound of the waves and the smell of the salt air. Though even those sounds would likely sound different now. It took great concentration to hear beyond the incessant hiss of the serpents. When she bound her head it helped, but the ache from the added weight was heavy and they, the serpents, did not like to be stifled so. They snapped and dodged, twisting about her arms and pulling at her fingers in an attempt to evade the trap.
For now, she would leave them be. When her sisters returned, she would cover them.
Euryale was unnerved by their constant motion. Stheno said little about them. Medusa suspected Stheno hoped that ignoring their presence might erase them from being. A hope that made Medusa smile – sadly.
