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Authors: Nicola Cameron

BOOK: Deep Water
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Something pricked at him, something deeply
uncomfortable. He suspected it was guilt. “If I was rough with her, I’m sorry
about that,” he said, struggling to his feet and summoning clothes with a wave.
“I regret not wooing her more gently, wife, but she is our destined mate. It
isn’t as if she can turn her back on us.”

“Goddess above, you still don’t
understand.” Furious tears now filled Amphitrite’s eyes. “She is with Athena
now, telling her what happened. She is begging for your niece’s protection,
from us.
And from the little I saw of
Athena’s mood before I was banished from her presence I suspect that she will
be more than willing to give it. You have driven our beloved from us,
Poseidon.” His consort’s voice was thick with fury and grief.

“I will go to them. I will…” The word
“apologize” stuck in his throat, barred by his pride. “I will explain what
happened. Athena, for all her faults, is a wise goddess, and Medusa is young.
They will understand—”

“Have you always been this oblivious, or
am I just seeing it now?” Amphitrite shouted. “You will not go in there and
explain
. You will go in there in full
penitence, admit your fault, and beg for forgiveness. If we’re lucky, Medusa
may understand that you were acting out of drunken idiocy rather than malice.
And if we are very, very lucky, she may choose to forgive you. Eventually.”

His irritation began to flow, far more
familiar and erasing those uncomfortable prickles of guilt. “I am the God of
the Sea,” he declared. “I do not grovel to anyone, and certainly not to a chit
of a mortal maiden.”

Amphitrite’s eyes were blue flame. “If you
ever wish to lie with me again, you will beg our mate, the one you abused so
cruelly, for forgiveness,” she said.

He couldn’t stop the laugh that burst
forth at her audacity. “I am your husband, and I will lie with you when and as
I choose,” he said, scrubbing at one cheek. “You do not dictate the terms of
our marriage.”

She reacted as if she had been slapped.
Even in the depths of his hangover Poseidon realized he had overstepped his
mark.

Stiffly, Amphitrite drew herself up to her
full height, reaching out and summoning her trident. Her beautiful face twisted
in anger and determination. “Hear me now, Poseidon, God of the Sea. If you do
not gain Medusa’s forgiveness, you will never have me as your consort again.
This I swear by Zeus
Horkios
.”

“My brother,” Poseidon pointed out.
“Somehow, I doubt he will take your side against mine.”

Amphitrite’s lips drew back from her
teeth. “Then I swear it by Gaia Herself.”

Poseidon was shocked when the very fabric
of reality chimed, registering the oath. He spun, glaring at the flagstones of
the courtyard. “I am your own grandson, Gaia!” he shouted.

A sense of immense power loomed over him
like an invisible tidal wave.
Your
consort chose the oath, Poseidon. I will hold her to it. Pray that your other
mate forgives you, or you will spend the rest of eternity without love.

The words Amphitrite had spoken to him so
long ago rang in his mind.
“The Oracle
said that we would have a third mate, and that it would be the end and
beginning of happiness for us.”
Still trying to think clearly, he turned
back to Amphitrite, but she had already ripped open a portal and stormed
through.

Head pounding from too much wine, anger,
and a growing sense of dismay, Poseidon went in search of his wronged
agapetos
. He found her in the main
audience room, kneeling before a grim Athena.

The grey-eyed Goddess of Wisdom looked up
at his entrance. “Uncle,” she said coldly. “Is it true that you raped my
handmaiden in my own temple?”

Poseidon licked his lips, wishing that he
had thought to rinse his mouth out. “I regret what happened between Medusa and me,
but it cannot be changed,” he said, trying to sidestep the accusation of rape.
“We are
agapetos
, destined to be
mates by the Fates themselves. I swear that I will never touch her with
anything but gentleness again.”

Athena glanced down at the kneeling
handmaiden, whose long brown hair hung in front of her face like a curtain. “He
offers you gentleness in his bed, Medusa,” she said, her voice neutral. “Do you
wish to accept his offer?”

The girl straightened, sitting back on her
heels as if every movement hurt. Poseidon winced. They probably did, due to his
actions. “I wish that no one, god or mortal, would ever look on me with lust
again,” she said to her goddess, ignoring him. “That is what I wish, my lady.”

Sorrow crossed the goddess’s face. “So be
it. Remember that I do not blame you for what I do now.” She threw a glance
full of loathing at Poseidon. “This is your doing, Uncle. And may you choke on
it until the end of time.”

She held up a hand. A violent spiral of
energy spilled from it, powered by her divine aura. The sparkling whirlwind
cascaded onto Medusa. The girl writhed, thrashing as Athena’s will began to
change her body.

“No!” Poseidon lurched forward to offset
Athena’s curse, but it was too late. Medusa swelled in size, growing monstrous.
Her gown shredded, falling to the temple floor and revealing skin that was now
greenish black and covered in scales. The girl’s legs disappeared, turned into
a thick, powerful snake’s tail that thrashed on the polished flagstones. Her
breasts flattened, and her hair abruptly sprang into a curly halo.

No, not a halo. Her hair had become a nest
of snakes, curling and hissing around her head like a deadly cloud. She turned,
and Poseidon shuddered at the large yellow snake’s eyes that had replaced her
human ones.

Then he felt his body begin to shift,
turning into something hard and cold from the power in that baleful gaze.
Pushing back with the power of his own divinity, he shed the malicious spell
and looked away from Medusa, keeping his gaze focused on the great statue that
stood over Athena’s throne. The shield it held was polished enough to act as a
mirror and revealed the horrible truth of Medusa’s new form.

“You turned her into a Gorgon!” he accused
Athena.

“Yes, Uncle.” His niece’s voice was still
cold and neutral. “It seemed appropriate, given her name and all. And she will
never have to worry about unwanted advances from anyone ever again.”

He felt another pulse of power from
Athena, and a cloud of light appeared around Medusa. When it dissipated, she
was gone. Furious, Poseidon stormed over to the goddess. “You didn’t give me a
chance to explain!” he raged.

She raised one pale eyebrow. “Explain
what? That you fell on her in a drunken haze? That you rutted with her like a
boar against her will? That you and Amphitrite betrayed her?”

“What? Amphitrite had nothing to do with
this!”

“Enough!” The word echoed through the
temple as Athena held up a hand. “Medusa was first among my handmaidens, and I
loved her like a daughter. If you had come to me as a civilized being and asked
for her hand, I would have given it to you. Reluctantly, yes, for I know what you’re
like, Uncle, but I would have done it. After all, only a fool would go against
the weaving of the Fates.”

She gave him a bitter, crooked smile. “But
thanks to you and your animalistic appetites, I was forced to cast Medusa out
in shame and dishonor from my service, instead of releasing her with love and
gratitude.” The grey-eyed goddess leaned forward, powerful hands gripping the
arms of the throne as if they were Poseidon’s throat. “But before I cast her
out, I was able to grant her one final boon. It was
her
wish to be turned into a monster, something that you would
never look upon with desire, or molest, or take against her will ever again.
You are directly responsible for your
agapetos
choosing to become a Gorgon, Poseidon. You, and you alone.”

Athena stood, summoning her spear, helmet,
and shield, becoming the warrior goddess beloved by her city. “Now get out of
my temple and never cross its threshold again.”

Even he could not disobey the direct order
of a goddess in her own demesnes. He bowed rigidly and ripped open a portal to
Olympus and his mansion there, intending to hunt down Amphitrite and talk some
sense into her.

But she was gone. All her things had been
cleared from their shared bedroom, and he couldn’t sense her anywhere in the
sprawling building. He
portaled
to his undersea
palace, and found the same thing there.

Amphitrite wasn’t at any of their other
residences around the Mediterranean. She wasn’t at any of his temples, or hers.
She was simply gone.

And he was alone.

****

Poseidon returned to his duties as lord of
the Mediterranean, always keeping an ear out for news of his
agapetos
’s
whereabouts. But there was no sign of Amphitrite anywhere in the civilized
world. He was starting to wonder if she’d fled to the seas outside the
Mediterranean when a supplicant in one of his temples had prayed for help with
a dread monster near his village, a monster with snakes for hair and eyes that
could turn men to stone. It could only be Medusa.

He plucked the location from his
supplicant’s prayer and opened a portal to the cave entrance. It was near dusk,
the surrounding hillside going dark with the encroaching night, and he could
already hear the chirping of the insects.

He paused, studying the rocky opening into
the hill. It was large enough to accommodate two men marching in side by side.
More than large enough for a wolf, or bear, or the assorted wildlife to use it
as a den.

And yet there was no spoor, no prints
leading in or out of the cave. Only an odd, smoothed track, as if someone had
dragged a tree or a stone into the cave. He scented the air. None of the smells
of predators, either animal or human. Instead, there was a dry, bitter note to
the breeze that spoke of cold-blooded things and whispering scales.

Gathering his dignity, he summoned his trident
and commanded the tines to light his way as he stepped into the cave. Here the
dry smell grew stronger, taking on a musky undernote.

He soon came across the first corpse, if he
could call the cowering statue that. It appeared to have been carved by a
talented sculptor, every detail exquisitely true to life, from the tension in
the fingers as they bent into defensive claws to the wide, stretched rictus of
the mouth as it screamed out its last breath.

More statues stood propped against the
cave walls, or curled into hollows near the floor. Mortal men, all of them come
to slay the monster. Some small part of Poseidon’s heart raged at the thought
of mortals attacking Medusa.
But she was
the one who chose to be a monster.

A hissing, slithering sound alerted him to
the arrival of the cave’s resident. He held up the mirrored shield he’d
brought, using it to look at the reflection of his lost
agapetos
as she came into sight.

Medusa looked exactly like her namesake
now, from the huge, powerful snake’s tail that formed her lower body to the
greenish skin on her torso and the cloud of slithering, hissing snakes around
her head. Somewhere she had found or made a wicked-looking bow, and a quiver of
arrows was strapped around one shoulder.

But her face, her lovely face, was still
the same. It was an oasis of beauty surrounded by so much horror. Knowing that
he had driven her to this felt like knives inside.

She saw him and stopped. “
Posssssseidon
.” Even Medusa's enunciation was now
snake-like. “What are you doing here, sea lord?”

He straightened, giving her reflection a
wary nod. “I’m looking for Amphitrite. Have you seen her?”

To his surprise, Medusa laughed. “Have I
seen Amphitrite?” she said, bringing her brows down in a mocking fashion. “Why,
no, I haven’t. A pity, that. I have the perfect spot for her statue, as well.”

The muscles in his jaw tensed. “You can be
as angry at me as you like, but don’t blame Amphitrite for this,” he said. “Athena
is the one who turned you into a monster.”

“At my request,” Medusa said flatly. “I
asked her to make me into something that would never draw your lustful look
again.” Her snaky head cocked to the side, the serpents that had replaced the
brown curls of her hair hissing in unison. “Do you like what you see, Lord
Poseidon? Will you try your luck with me again? I warn you, I have claws and
fangs now. Ever so many fangs, and all of them thirsty for the divine ichor
that flows in your veins.”

Poseidon’s hand tightened on his trident. “I
will not touch you again, Medusa. You have made your distaste for me
exceedingly clear.”

“Distaste?
Distaste
?” Her hooting laughter echoed in the cavern. “I
loathe
you, Poseidon. I hate you with
every breath I take and every beat of my heart. I hate you with every drop of
blood in my veins, and every mortal who comes here to slay me and dies under my
eyes only feeds my hunger to see you and your whore dead at my feet.”

“You will not call Amphitrite that!” he
thundered. “Be angry at me, yes. I deserve it. But she has done nothing to earn
your rage.”

“Nothing?” Medusa screeched. “She set you
on me, didn’t she? You said it yourself, how she had told you what a sweet
young morsel I was. Oh, she lured me in as neatly as a fisherman, and presented
me on a plate for you to ravish at your leisure.”

“That—” He stopped, trying to remember
what he’d said in a drunken haze that night. “Amphitrite never told me about
you. She didn't even know that I’d gone to see you until afterwards. I’d met
Aphrodite on the steps of Zeus’s hall. It was she who told me about you.”

The Gorgon stopped in mid-slither, staring
at him. “What did you say?”

“Aphrodite told me that you were our
agapetos
. She congratulated me on your
beauty and purity, and said I should go see you immediately.” He wondered if
the Goddess of Love had known what would happen, or had simply redirected him
out of spite for his behavior. “Amphitrite is blameless in this.”

The snakes’ lashing eased around Medusa’s
head. “She ... she didn’t betray me?”

“No. She is absolutely furious at me for
what I did to you. She left me.” The admittance was bitter as gall in his
mouth. “She loves you, Medusa, truly. She would have never betrayed you.”

Golden eyes widened in the mirror's
reflection, and Medusa’s hands began to shake. “No. No, that’s not true. That
can’t be true.” She stared at the cave walls, eyes darting back and forth. “She
... I ... I did this? For nothing?”

Poseidon felt a glimmer of hope. “If you
beg Athena to change you back—”

“Change me back?” The great head whipped
around. He could feel his skin stinging under the power of her glare, trying to
turn to stone. “So that you can rape me again at your leisure? So that I become
your plaything, a furrow to be plowed when you feel like it?” Her voice rose to
a painful screech. “I will be damned to Tartarus first.”

Poseidon didn’t flinch from the vitriol in
her voice, but his soul stung under its lash. “I am sorry for what I did to
you, Medusa,” he said. “I swear by Zeus
Horkios
that
it will never happen again. If you return, you will have only soft caresses and
the gentlest of lovemaking from me.”

There was a moment when he thought he’d
broken through to her. He realized his folly when her loud, hoarse laugh rang
out in the cavern. “You are not listening to me,
Earthshaker
,”
she said. “I will never be your mattress again. I would rather bear this head
of snakes and live in a damp, cold cave than
ever
come to your bed again.”

Poseidon drew himself up. “So be it,” he
said. “I have tried to apologize for my actions, but I will not grovel before
you. Keep your new form, Medusa, and may you have the best of luck,” he glanced
at a terrified statue, “with your hunts.”

He strode out of the cave, proud of
himself for keeping his temper in line despite her slurs. Surely she would come
to her senses eventually and petition Athena to change her back into a human.
Surely she wouldn’t actually prefer to be a monster with death-dealing eyes
than lie with him.

Surely she would return. It would simply
be a matter of time.

 

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