 
# Nectar of the Gods

### Beyond the Gods, Book 1

## Mary Bernsen

#### CTP Pulse

### Contents

Copyright

Also by Mary Bernsen

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Review

Also by Mary Bernsen

Jewel of the Gods

About the Author

CTP Email List
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

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Nectar of the Gods

Copyright ©2017 Mary Bernsen

All rights reserved.

Summary: Ambrosia has spent her life preparing for the day she would avenge her mother's death. Working undercover as a prostitute, she draws in the murderer. But when the man admits to her that her mother is still alive, a partnership of necessity is born. Slowly Ambrosia is faced with an uncomfortable truth: this man is not the monster Ambrosia has always envisioned him to be...in fact, she's drawn to him.

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ISBN: 978-1-63422-291-4 (paperback)

ISBN: 978-1-63422-292-1 (e-book)

Cover Design by: Marya Heidel

Typography by: Courtney Knight

Editing by: Denise Nicholls

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Credits:

@Fernando Cortés / Fotolia

# Also by Mary Bernsen

### Mermaid Royalty Series

SINK

SWIM

SPLASH

### Beyond the Gods

Nectar of the Gods

Jewel of the Gods
To my mother, Elizabeth, for recognizing my love for the written word from the start.

# Chapter 1

"Your name certainly does you justice."

The sickening smell of liquor left his mouth before he even opened it to speak. The stench mingled with his body odor and echoed off the peeling paint on the marble walls, hitting my nostrils with an assault that could knock back a pig.

I rolled onto my side, facing my back to him, choking on the gag forcing its way into my throat. He pulled tight on the sheets that bound us together, bringing me closer to him.

"Whatever does that mean, Chrysaor?" I forced a flirtatious giggle.

He buried his nose in my hair and dug his fingertips into my hips. "Ambrosia is said to be the nectar of the gods, and I proclaim I have never tasted a whore with skin quite as sweet as yours."

I sighed, hoping to the heavens it sounded like the sigh of a flattered, embarrassed woman and not that of one trying to bite her tongue.

I was lying in bed with my sworn enemy. This man had traveled the lands, proudly boasting his kinship to the great and powerful Medusa.

It was known she'd borne a child when Perseus took her head, and when Chrysaor stepped forward claiming to be her offspring only a few months ago, none had doubted it. Who, after all, would assert to the world that he was descended from such hated evil if it wasn't true?

No. It was doubted by no one. Except me.

Chrysaor was pretending to be who I was. A truth that I hid from and avoided at all costs, he waved about, relishing the intimidation and fear that came with his presence because of it. I couldn't let him get away with such an exploitation of my mother's already muddied name. From the instant I'd heard of him, I knew it was time to begin my journey to avenge her. And I would start with Chrysaor.

In my own travels, I had found nothing made men talk like liquor and love-making. My profession was chosen for much different reasons than the other girls who were usually sold into this trade and had no choice in the matter at all.

I knew I was sacrificing my immortal soul, but mine was a path I couldn't deviate from. Through the men who were part of Chrysaor's company, I would find my way to Perseus. Two birds, one stone, as the adage went.

"Have I upset you?" His voice was gentle and almost caring.

I shook free of Chrysaor's embrace and collected my clothing, slipping into my bright apple-red tunic and wrapping my golden breast band around the outside of my dress and across my midriff to accentuate my slim figure and leave little to the imagination as to the shape and size of my bosom.

I offered a sweet smile and brushed aside the moldy and damp white curtains that provided us with a little privacy from the outside world.

"The night has fallen. I have other duties downstairs in the tavern. Would you mind fastening my brassiere?" I lit a candle, though the room was small enough he shouldn't have needed it to find me.

He pulled himself out of the tiny bed and made his way to assist me. Eying the size of him, I wondered how the both of us were able to fit on such a small bed. Though he was short, he had a very wide girth. He alone took up most of the space in the scantly furnished room where we stood.

His dark hair was still neatly pulled back, and when he smiled at me, his yellow teeth matched the necklace that sat across his hairy chest.

"I do not enjoy having to share you." His fat fingers made clumsy work of the pins that tightened my belt. "Won't you run away with me tonight, Ambrosia?"

I didn't need to make myself giggle at the notion. "Chrysaor you have a wife to make you miserable. What would you do with two?"

"Oh, yes. My wife. I don't suppose she would be keen on the thought, and I do love the wench."

Only a man could profess his love for one just after ravishing another.

"Will you be having a drink with us tonight?"

He spun me around and held a tight grip on my shoulders, planting a firm kiss on my lips. "To spend another moment with you, I would buy every ounce of alcohol in the tavern."

"My time is not bought by alcohol, my friend. I only take coin," I teased.

"And tomorrow perhaps I will buy another hour of your time, then."

"You're going to run out of money this way."

"Then I will demand some more. These peasants will pay me every piece of silver they have if it means protecting them from my mother's dark forces."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and I could feel my cheeks begin to burn at his statement. My mother was not his mother, and she certainly had no dark forces. At least none that were imposed on her willingly. Not any she would have wielded without regret. She was gone, anyway. How dare he speak such a way about the deceased?

I turned, again hiding my emotion with my back, because if I were honest about it, I had no control over my feelings showing on my face.

"I think you should head down now." It was not a suggestion. "I need to finish getting ready."

I had forgotten about the small mirror in front of us, and in it, his dark eyes burned into me. He knew I was not one of the peasants of which he spoke, and I thought it angered him to know I was not afraid of him.

Only for a moment did I let myself think about the potential consequences of my brash nature. This man was widely known for his short temper, and he was not afraid to become violent. Not a single citizen would care about the fate of a whore who overstepped her boundaries in a brothel.

It did not matter. It was not my fate to die here.

My stare met his with a matching intensity that told him I wouldn't alter my request. A moment of taut silence lingered between us before he finally gave in, and his expression softened as he bent down to graze his scratchy cheek against my own.

"Even the most feral of horses can be domesticated with an adept trainer on the other end of the whip, my dear Ambrosia."

"And when a trainer worthy of my submission makes his presence known, mayhap I will yield," I snapped. "But no such man has stepped forward."

In one quick motion, his hand was around my throat, and his putrid, unkempt nails pierced my skin. Dragging me by this grip alone, he threw me into the wall on the opposite side of the room.

My ears rang from the hard impact of the jagged marble, and I swallowed hard against the obstruction that his fist created in my airway. I looked desperately to the chair where my clothes had just been lying only moments before. I had hidden a knife under the seat, but it would do me no good if I couldn't reach it.

Concentrating on my heartbeat, I was able to keep it at a steady pace. I kept staring through him, refusing to let him see any indication that I was afraid. But the air was running out. My chest burned, and I desperately needed to breathe. Grabbing at the curtains to my side, I tried to pull them down, hoping his fear of being seen murdering a helpless woman by someone in the streets of Greece would deter him, even if his victim was a harlot.

He laughed and pulled me away from the window before I could manage a grip on the fabric, loosening his hold on my neck just enough for a little air to trickle in. Enough to keep me alive, but not enough to stop the pain that was slicing through my lungs.

"Do you know the first step in breaking a wild horse, Ambrosia?" He pressed his mouth lightly against mine when he spoke, giving me no choice but to inhale his words. "You have to make it fear you."

He was right, of course. But unfortunately for this sweaty bastard, there were very few people in my short life who had caused me to tremble, and he was not one of them. Eager for him to know as much, I breathed in as deep as I could, gathered liquid with my tongue, and spat hard onto his face. My lips curled into a smile when I saw my saliva dripping from his eye.

His disgust was enough for him to release me, and while he stood cursing and cleaning his face with the curtain, I scuttled to the chair, flipping it over and freeing the blade hidden underneath it.

He approached me slowly, like a hunter creeping up to his kill. He was still naked from our earlier encounter, and the sight would have been comical if it were not for the grave seriousness of the matter.

I held the blade between us, and he defensively extended his arms with his palms facing the sky.

"Not another step, Chrysaor," I warned, my voice stern.

"Go ahead," he taunted, pushing his chest outward to expose it. "My heart is yours for the taking."

I lowered the blade only slightly, pointing it toward his manhood. "I was considering a prize that dangles a bit lower."

The threat got his attention, and his brows shot to the top of his face. "You're a damned savage!"

I grinned at his reaction. "Get dressed, you fool. I haven't the time to waste with you."

Tripping over his own feet, he did manage to climb into a tunic of his own, this one white with a beige sash. Between our struggle and the work it took for him to dress himself, he was thoroughly out of breath and gasping for air just as I had been when he'd had me restrained.

He did not speak to me as he left. He only hung his head in shame. He had been beaten by a petite woman, and it hurt his pride. No doubt he would recover after a drink or two.

Once he was gone, I returned to the mirror that hung on the wall and examined my wounds. A few stray strands of my disheveled golden hair clung to the already crusting blood on my neck where his nails had been. The cuts were small, but I would be lucky if they didn't become infected.

My green eyes were surrounded with red where there should have been white. I should have killed the fat bastard. He was certainly more use to me alive for the time being, but damn it, I should have killed him.

Oh well, there was no use fretting over it any further. I needed to make myself look presentable and quick, or Hercules would be cross.

# Chapter 2

When I emerged from the stairway into the musty tavern, I wasn't surprised to see Chrysaor sitting on a stool with a drink in his hand.

He winked at me and flashed his overly smug-saturated smile. It was as I suspected—one drink, and it was as if our heated scrap had never happened. The demons of intoxication allowed his mind to only recall our pleasant moments.

"You're late."

Hercules surprised me from behind, and I jumped, spilling wine from the amphora I was carrying to the patrons. He was the only man I had met with the talent to sneak up on me. This was not a quality I cared for in him.

He had others more to my liking, however. He was a man who chose a dark trade— hustling prostitutes and serving men their spirits were generally frowned upon, even though the highest men were some of his most frequent proprietors.

But what he lacked in moral direction, he made up for with his character. He was a firm and frightening man to his enemies, but he was not like the others in his line of work. He was gentle with the women he represented and fair in his business transactions. I was proud to call him my friend.

Friend or not, he was still a man. And I knew I could quell his anger with my usual methods.

"I'm sorry, Hercules." I batted my lashes and peered at him with lust written on my face. He never left a woman's eyes wanting. It was not difficult to fake an attraction. "I took extra time to be sure I was ready. How do I look?"

I spun around to give him a show, and he nodded in approval. My hair was smooth and came down to the small of my back. I had painted my lips bright red and pinched some color into my cheeks. My tunic was adjusted so my left leg was exposed in its entirety, the red fabric resting coyly on the point where my thigh met my pelvis. I certainly looked the part.

"You will be the star again tonight, Ambrosia." He leaned in close. "You may want to reconsider always appearing so stunning. The other whores will become jealous, and there is nothing more dangerous than an envious woman."

I arched my brow and whispered seductively. "Their scorn couldn't prevent me from giving my Hercules the best on every occasion."

I watched the pink creep onto his face. "I can handle myself," I assured him.

"I have little doubt of that." Hercules cleared his throat. "All right then, back to work."

He swatted my behind, and I squealed in delight as I was sent away, once again in his good graces. Men were far too easy to manipulate. I predicted it would be the cause of their ultimate end.

Making my rounds with wine in hand, I served the already much-too-drunk men. I smiled and winked and feigned an interest in their declarations of undying love for the gorgeous blonde prostitute waiting on them.

"We come here for you," they claimed.

When I grew tired of one table's lack-luster banter, I asked them about their wives and their children. They were suddenly much less interested in my company, so I moved along without argument.

I had become something of an expert at my profession in the few short months I'd practiced it.

"You'll lose all of your patrons if you keep reminding them of their responsibilities." Another red-headed whore tapped my shoulder.

"Anemone," I tsked. "Surely you can't be that naïve. They have another drink and forget all about what I've said, then they will welcome me again during my next round."

"You put too much faith in the alcohol."

"And my dear, you don't put enough faith in it." I linked her arm in mine and began pulling her to the center of the room. "It's time for our performance!"

"Gentleman!" Hercules called for the attention of the room, and his deep voice commanded it even over the noises of the crowd. "For your pleasure this evening, I present two of my finest girls for your bidding."

The hooting and whistling began and only grew when Anemone and I took our place on the platform that had been erected in the center of the tavern.

We were on display, and while it didn't bother me, my heart tugged when I saw the shame on Anemone's face. I wished I could make her see the potential power in our profession. If she only knew how to use her misfortune to her advantage, she could bring herself above her despair.

She was a beautiful girl. She could seduce a wealthy benefactor or perhaps even senator and make him think he loved her. He could whisk her from this life. She could have all the gold she ever needed to make her happy.

"They come separate or as a pair," Hercules announced. "And it's for tonight only, gentlemen. You can't keep my merchandise."

It was a lie, of course. Everything was for sale at the right price, though most of the men in attendance only had enough silver for a rental.

"Let's begin!"

I shifted my hips, pouted my lips, and brushed my hair flirtatiously, finally deciding on a seductive pose that would show off my curves. Anemone stood straight as a stick and with a cross face. She didn't understand that she was scaring away the customers.

The men began shouting offers, but Chrysaor stepped forward and threw a satchel filled with coin on the table, effectively ending the bidding.

"I have no interest in the red-headed prude," he stated. "But for Ambrosia, you may have it all."

I winced, partially at the insult he hurled at Anemone, but mostly at my own expense. Another night spent with this impotent goat might very well be enough to change my fate altogether.

"Chrysaor," Hercules laughed. "You've just spent the entire day with her. Surely you have had your fill!"

He fixed his gaze on me, and my face tensed. "When I have had my fill, you will have lost my business. None of your other whores compare to this one."

Hercules hesitated, perhaps because he saw the frown I rarely wore. But he was a businessman, and he wouldn't refuse the offer.

"Are there any higher bidders?"

Of course, there wouldn't be. No sane man would contend with Medusa's child, even if they had the gold to bid against him. The thought amused me. Almost every man in this room had been in the bed of Medusa's true child and didn't even know it. I wondered how they would react to learning as much.

With the bidding coming to a close, Hercules took the leather satchel, along with a few pieces of silver for Anemone, and we returned to our duties serving the spirits. It was understood the winning bidder would have us only after the tavern closed for the night, which wouldn't be much longer.

I picked up the empty decorated vase that had held the wine and brought it to the back to exchange for a full one. On my way back into the tavern, I heard Chrysaor click his tongue at me to get my attention, as if he was beckoning his horse.

A deep breath allowed me to maintain my composure, and my plastered-on smile began to ache and feel worn.

"Another night together, Chrysaor?"

"Our rendezvous are never dull." He pointed to his cup, and I filled it to the brim.

"I could agree with that," I chuckled. "Though there will be decidedly fewer encounters between us if I am not breathing. I hope you keep that in mind this time."

"Oh, my dear Ambrosia." He cocked his head to the side and spoke as though he was comforting a wounded child. "I could never hurt you."

I extended my neck to show him proof to the contrary.

"You should really be more careful when you are applying your make-up," he teased and took a drink. "No, I'm afraid you have worn me out for today. I do not require your usual brand of services this evening."

"Then why did you purchase them?"

"I purchased _you,_ not the services."

"As Hercules said, it's only for this evening," I reminded him, worried his deal meant more.

"That is true, but at least when you are under my rental, I don't need to worry about Prince Charming taking you from me."

I rolled my eyes. His possessiveness was unfounded and irritating. But there was some comfort to be had in knowing I could be alone in my bed tonight. "Right, well, if you will excuse me, I must finish my duties here first."

He reached out and grabbed my arm, squeezing it tight. "There is another way you can earn your coin."

"And what is that?"

"You see those men over there?" He gestured to a table across the tavern with three men deep in conversation, seeming not to pay any attention to the merriment that was so contagious among the other patrons.

"I do."

"Do you know them? Do they seem familiar at all?"

"No, they have not been in here before. At least, not since I have been working for Hercules. Why do you ask?"

He glanced around the room and moved in closer to whisper, "They keep pointing to me."

Oh, good Zeus. The wine had done him in so well, he'd succumbed to paranoia.

"I think you've had enough, Chrysaor." I tried to take his cup from him, but he snatched it back.

"It's not the wine, wench!" he hissed, this time with a more convincing tone that piqued my curiosity.

"What would you have me do?"

"Try to listen in on their conversation. Use your...gifts to elicit some information."

It was the least I could do for the amount of money he had just laid out for me.

I agreed and danced my way over to their table. Leaning in well enough to expose the top of my bosom, I rested my arm on the shoulders of one of the men.

They were travelers, that much was certain. Soldiers, I assumed, since they each wore armor and decorative shields rested at their feet. All of them were clean but unshaven.

The one I rested on looked up, and I ruffled his sandy hair. The others looked on, their dark features fitting into the more classic Greek mold. Without realizing it, I had gravitated toward the one who better understood how it felt to stand out in a crowd.

"Can I get you a refill, gentlemen?"

"No, thank you." The man across from me shut down any further conversation.

"Are you sure?" I twinkled. "Hercules has some of the finest spirits you'll find anywhere."

"We've had the wine." The blond man now spoke. "It was nothing special, and we are no longer thirsty."

I wasn't sure how to react to the dismissal. The three men I was to spy on were the only men in Greece who were not stricken with dumbness at the sight of a pair of breasts.

I opened my mouth to speak, but with nothing to say, I instead strolled away and returned my attention to Chrysaor, who undoubtedly had just witnessed my rejection.

I shrugged at him, indicating I had learned nothing. He waved me on, urging me to continue my reconnaissance.

Taking a different approach, I instead planted myself at the table next to them with another group of men who were more than delighted by my company.

Carrying on a conversation while listening in to another proved much more difficult than I had anticipated.

"Chrysaor," one of them said.

"Medusa..." came from another.

So Chrysaor was not just paranoid. He was indeed the topic of their discussion.

"Perseus, you can't simply..."

I stiffened at the name.

Perseus.

The man who spoke the name was not speaking about someone named Perseus; he was speaking _to_ Perseus. My distraction kept me from hearing the rest of the conversation, but my vision was now concentrated strictly on the blond man I had just so breezily interacted with.

The more I examined him, the more familiar he became. I couldn't possibly recognize him from when I was an infant, but somehow, I did. That was him, I had no doubt at all. That was Perseus.

# Chapter 3

Unable to convince myself to tear my gaze away, terror began creeping up my spine. Ice cold perspiration sprinkled my face, and I stood frozen. The same man who had decapitated my mother and left me in the middle of nowhere, the very one I had been searching for, had found me.

He looked so young and handsome. I'd imagined my mother's assassin would be much older. He was animated in the way he spoke, flailing his arms about to add to the drama of whatever tale he told. Even so, there was something dreadful in his eyes. Fear, hatred, or torment? Perhaps a combination of them all. I couldn't decipher the soul that was hidden behind them, and it terrified me.

Perseus must have sensed he was being watched because he was now glaring at me with a deep scowl that made me want to hide under the table like a child. Fear pooled into my gut, paralyzing me. I was not generally easy to frighten. This new sensation consumed me so that I couldn't bring myself to my feet to escape.

He stood slowly, our eyes not breaking their deadlock even for an instant. My fear turned to dread, and I wondered if he recognized me. As impossible as it might be, I knew him, so why shouldn't he know me as well?

"Ambrosia." Chrysaor was at my side, urging me to stand with a tug on my arm and also succeeding at pulling my attention from Perseus.

I blinked hard and shifted to face him.

"Yes? I was just finishing up with these gentlemen." I waved to the patrons who shared my table. They looked at me, puzzled, and I pondered just how long I had been mesmerized by my surprise visitor.

"But you're neglecting me," he pouted.

As bothered as I was by his possessiveness, I was glad to join him on the other end of the room, away from the source of my greater discomfort. Chrysaor wrapped his arm around my shoulder and guided me to where he'd been sitting for the evening.

After practically falling into his chair, Chrysaor kicked out another for me to sit on. I dusted off the dirt that had fallen from his shoe and scooted it closer to his, both so our conversation could be kept personal and so I could watch the still-standing Perseus.

"So..." His face twisted into a look of thoughtful concentration. "Aside from finding you're smitten, have you learned anything of value?"

"Smitten?" My voice sounded shrill and defensive. The idea was insulting.

"You took him to bed with your eyes!"

I rolled the eyes of which he spoke and waved him off. "You're mad. I was simply trying to concentrate through all the other noise in here."

"You have never looked at me in such a way." He seemed genuinely hurt, and for the first time, I pitied him for his infatuation and my role in deepening it.

"You have never given me a reason to."

"What, my gold is not reason enough?"

"Do you know who that is?" I deflected the question and changed the subject, sparing myself the grief. His gold might have been enough to buy my company, but it could never be enough to buy my heart.

"Of course, I don't, I told you as much. They are strangers. None of the other patrons seem to know them."

"You asked the other patrons?" I sighed. "Chrysaor, you have something to learn about being conspicuous."

I leaned in closer, and both of our stares unconsciously drifted in the direction of the travelers.

"You were right, they were speaking of you," I whispered. "I can't identify the other two, but the light-haired one there, do you see him?"

He nodded with excitement. I would be breaking this to him.

"That is Perseus."

"Perseus?" he asked in disbelief. "The demigod Perseus?"

"Well, that's what the legends say. I have my doubts. He doesn't have the appetite of any demigod I have ever met." I winked.

I watched the color drain from Chrysaor's face. He dropped his head into his hands and began to shake. Either he had truly begun to believe his own lie, and he feared for his life the way I did, or he was afraid of being found out. The idea of the former gained my sympathy, and I patted his shoulder to offer comfort. He might genuinely have been out of his mind.

"Don't panic," I soothed. "He may have just come to—"

"To what?" Chrysaor shouted and slammed his fist down onto the table. "The head-hunter has come to add to his collection."

"You don't know that!" I needed to believe it wasn't true, for my own sake.

"It sounds likely." A foreign voice joined the conversation, and I glanced up.

Perseus stood over us. Fear slammed through me, and I jumped to my feet to flee. He grabbed my shoulder in an iron grip and shoved me back into my chair.

"Sit," he ordered.

"Sir Perseus..." Chrysaor started, but Perseus raised his hand to cut him off.

He pulled over his own chair to join us. Tremors tore through me, leaving me shaking just as violently as Chrysaor was. Scanning the room, I found Hercules and mentally begged him to look in our direction, but my silent pleas fell went unheeded.

"Tell me, Chrysaor," he began. "What kind of man sends a whore to do his spying?"

"A smart one," I offered, my confidence being rekindled by the embers in his insult.

The corner of his mouth almost gave way to a smirk, but he pulled it back. "How do you come to that?"

"Men respond to the curves of a woman in a way they respond to nothing else. A woman's body can be a dangerous weapon if it's wielded properly."

My reply elicited a chuckle from our intruder, not one of amusement but one of admiration. Chrysaor attempted to mimic the sound, but his version was far less endearing.

"Perseus, I was only..." I began to offer a defense for both Chrysaor and myself.

"How is it fair that you both know my name, but I have not been given yours? How shall I address you?"

His formality surprised me.

"You may call me Ambrosia."

"Ambrosia," he echoed. "Is that your given name or your harlot name?"

I picked at the chipping wood on the table to distract from my frustration. I had been called a whore, a harlot, and many other disgraceful names I had rightfully earned without a care. But somehow, when he called me what I was, I found myself drowning in the condescension.

I crossed my arms to create an extra barrier between us. His words wouldn't hurt if they couldn't reach my heart. "If you're quite through with the pleasantries, what can we do for you, Perseus?"

"Straight to business, then." He mirrored my posture. "You two seem familiar with one another, am I wrong?"

I shrugged, embarrassed by the truth in his assumption. We were far more familiar than I cared to admit.

"Then I can only gather you know your friend's secret."

"I don't know what you mean," Chrysaor lied.

"I think you know very well what I mean." Perseus drew his face closer to Chrysaor's and lowered his voice. "Twenty-three years ago, I pulled an infant from Medusa's womb. That child was a girl."

Chrysaor's eyes grew wide, and he shook his head, but Perseus only nodded in response—his visage mocking. I ducked my head, hoping I was not the next to be exposed.

"You've been to bed with him?" He now spoke to me, and when I didn't respond, he continued. "Is there a secret in his trousers?"

I pinched my lips together and blushed, literally biting my tongue to keep from laughing at the idea that Chrysaor was a woman in disguise.

"I thought not." Perseus was not as amused.

"What...what are you going to do to me?" Chrysaor stuttered. "Are you going to tell them?"

"I have no interest in exposing the deceit you spread."

Chrysaor slumped back into his chair, exhaling the tension and relaxing again.

"But you should keep in mind that I could," Perseus warned. "Keep your whores out of our affairs."

I sank down again at the insult. Shame was another feeling I was not eager to embrace.

Perseus swung around a small bag that had been on his shoulder and from it pulled a brown satchel much like the one Chrysaor had used to buy my company.

"And I'm sure you won't mind if I borrow your wench for the night." He threw the bag on the table, and the contents jingled as it came to rest. "This should cover your earlier bid."

Chrysaor's mouth opened to complain, but he seemed to think better of it and instead took the satchel and dismissed himself from the table.

Again Perseus' soul-tearing gaze fell on me. I couldn't decide if I was relieved to be free of yet another night with the petulant Chrysaor. Maybe he was, for the moment, the lesser of two evils. I could handle myself with Chrysaor; I was not as confident about this one.

My answer came when I finally allowed myself to look up at the man who had just purchased me for the evening. His lips turned up into a devious, almost demonic grin. If Perseus had ever given me a reason to be afraid, this was the best reason of all. I was not. This could turn out to be an enjoyable night after all.

# Chapter 4

Perseus stumbled into my bedchamber, his arm slumped over my shoulder, burdening me with his weight. I may have over-served him after finding out we would be spending the night together. The extra exertion it required to escort him to a more private location would be worth the energy I would save when I sliced his neck while he was heavy in a drunken slumber.

With little care, I tossed him onto the bed. He moaned, gripping his head in agony as he fell dizzily onto it. Lucky for him, my bed was much softer than the beds the other girls had to make due with; the most profitable prostitute was gifted with the highest luxury.

The armor he wore was knotted tight, but my small fingers made easy work of removing it. The heavy breastplate was not as simple since, for the moment, this typically nimble warrior had the balance of a three-footed dog.

"Roll over," I instructed.

"Hmm?"

An exasperated breath escaped from my lips as I jostled him onto his side. I had had my fill of intoxicated men.

With his breastplate finally removed, I climbed on top of him, straddling my legs around his waist. I reached behind my back to remove my breast band and tossed it aside. This time, I was in bed with my mother's assassin. This was certainly not how I had imagined avenging Medusa, but if history spoke for anything, I was in no position to claim to be above the indiscretion.

I bent down and began to trace his jawline with my mouth, letting my hands roam under his shirt and along his smooth and sculpted chest.

He is just another client, I repeated to myself.

He held his breath, and his body stiffened just before he reached up and forcefully shoved me off him, sending me flying across the room, ankles over my head.

Before the room stopped spinning, he was at my side, yanking me up to stand and shaking me with all of his strength.

"You're not the Princess!" he cried.

"Of course, I'm not a princess, you idiot." I couldn't contain my laughter, and I blurted out a very unfeminine snort. I couldn't even bring myself to be angry at such nonsense. "I work in a brothel. What kind of princess would even step foot in a brothel?"

He extended his finger to the sky and brought it to hover in front of my nose. "Only the Princess may touch me."

His words were soft and barely formed. Most would likely be unable to decipher them, but I was fluent in the tongue of inebriation, so for me it took little effort. He released me with a jerk and began pacing the room like a mad man.

"You purchased my company," I reminded him.

"Yes, your company. Not your bed!"

I scrunched my nose, trying to make sense of him.

"You know I am a prostitute?"

"Of course, I know that."

"Then what in Zeus' temple did you anticipate this evening? Enlightening conversation? A tour of the streets of Greece? I could show you the homes of the most notable warriors we have to offer."

He growled at me like an animal, and in his frustration, he weaved his fingers into his hair and tugged at the strands.

"Careful," I teased. "You're one of the few men your age who has not begun balding. You'll tear it out like that."

My attempt at lightening the tension seemed to work, and he chuckled as he fell back to sit again on the bed. "I'm sorry. It has been some time since I have been in the company of a woman."

"Since the Princess?"

He nodded without looking at me, and the stories I'd been hearing in the tavern these last few weeks rang loud in my ears.

After slaying Medusa, Perseus was married to Princess Andromeda. Rumor had it my mother's head paid his dowry. Recent word was that she had just recently perished. I wanted to ask him about her and about how she had died. That part was always left out of the gossip. A moment's weakness allowed me to feel sorry for the grieving man in front of me. I chased away the mounting sadness, reminding myself he was not worthy of my sympathy.

"You've put me in an awkward position, I'm afraid." I pressed the wrinkles out of my tunic. "I'm not sure I recall how to keep a man company if he is not in my bed."

He patted the goose-down mattress, and I joined him.

"There," he said. "Now we are in your bed."

I laughed at the staleness of his joke, covering my mouth with my hand to hide the first true smile I'd worn in a very long time. He should be an arrogant, rude, and ugly man. I was finding it increasingly difficult to hate him as much as I wanted to, as much as I _needed_ to.

His eyes were closed now, and I watched him sway as though he might tumble forward. I laid him back to lean against the wall next to the bed. Without the intrusion of his watchful eye, I let myself examine him closer.

In any other lifetime, I might have found his soft features to be the most attractive I'd ever had the pleasure to witness. His skin was lighter than that of most Greek men, and his chin was home to whiskers of the same soft blond as the hair on his head. The blue eyes that were now hidden behind his lids suggested he was from some far off exotic part of the world I would one day love to visit.

If hearsay could be believed, he was a demigod, and looking at him now, I could believe the stories. He was a refreshing sight in the sea of unvaried faces of Greece.

He seemed so childlike and peaceful that I had to will my hand to move to my boot where I had hidden my dagger. The metal grip of it felt ice cold in my shaking hand. I had committed many sins in my lifetime, but this was to be the first, and I hoped the only, time I would kill a man. I slid my feet onto the concrete floor and spread my stance wide, raising the blade above my head in both hands, preparing to bring it down hard into his chest.

"It's my fault," he mumbled sleepily. "I should have protected you."

My chest felt as if it caved in at his words, and my heart ached for him. Love was not something I knew much about, but it was said to be universal, and the way I mourned for his loss as if I had a stake in it suggested that to be true. How could I kill such a tortured man in cold blood? Hadn't fate punished him enough by taking away his beloved?

"I promise, darling." His whispers were barely audible. "I will finish Medusa."

My breath caught in my throat when I tried to gasp, and I clutched my stomach. My ears began to buzz. I had to sit. Surely, I had not heard him right. He had finished Medusa long ago. Drunken ramblings, that was all this was. But perhaps...

I stabbed the knife into the wooden frame of the bed, bunched up my tunic, and with little grace, climbed back on top of my visitor, who still sat up against the wall only now with drool lining his chin.

"Wake up!" I slapped his face hard. "Hey!"

He grumbled and shifted his body to lay down, bringing me down with him. His leg wrapped around my torso, and his arm pinned my shoulders. His nose nuzzled into my neck. I struggled against his weight and thrashed to wiggle out from under him.

"Get off me, you ass!"

"Shh. It's just another nightmare, my love. Go back to sleep."

Now the poor idiot thought I was his wife. I would pretend to be whoever he wanted me to be if it meant getting an answer, even if it meant using his own grief against him.

"Yes, that's it," I made my voice softer and more feminine. "Perseus? What was that you said about Medusa?"

"It's nothing you should be concerned about, my dear. I won't let her hurt you."

"I'm not afraid, only curious. Tell me, Perseus. What did you say?"

He yawned hard, but his eyes never opened. After taking what seemed like an eternity to untangle his thoughts, he finally answered.

"I've already told you."

I stroked his hair with my fingertips and brushed my nose against his cheek. It seemed like a wifely gesture, and Perseus appeared to agree since he pressed his face into mine in response.

"I've forgotten," I lied.

"All right."

He leaned over me and opened his eyes. My only prayer of not being found out was if his vision was so cross from tiredness and wine he wouldn't see me clear enough to bring his mind back to present day.

"Medusa is not vanquished," he admitted, visibly straining to bring the words into the open. "It's not something you need to lose your rest over."

"But..."

He touched his lips lightly against mine and rolled over. I was too stunned to demand answers right away. What does one ask when she learns her deceased mother has risen from the dead? Questions swirled in my mind, and I tried to organize them well enough to form a coherent thought. The first one to surface was sickening.

I had almost killed him.

The very revenge I had planned all of these years, the one thing I swore would give me my ultimate satisfaction, enough to move on and finally begin building my life, if carried out would have meant I would never have known. My mother was trapped alone in a cave, and my own actions could have condemned her to that fate for an eternity.

I needed to find her, but none of the stories gave any indication as to where she was hidden. I could ask The Fates, but I was quite certain they wouldn't tell me. They had let me go on thinking she was dead when they surely knew it was not true. They insisted that I find Perseus when I should have been out finding _her_.

Maybe I could use that point to get them to reveal the answers to me. They might relent out of guilt if nothing else. But then I had to think about the dangers. Magic of all kinds was used to keep her captive, and it would do my mother no good at all if I couldn't even reach her. I was going to need help.

"Perseus!" I shook him hard. "Let me come with you! I can help you."

This time he didn't make even the smallest movement or sound. I flattened my hand against his chest to be sure he was alive. He was breathing, but he was out cold.

# Chapter 5

Downstairs in the tavern, Chrysaor had made a bed from a table sticky with wine spilled from the cup he still held in his hand. The morning sun peeked through the open window, and the chill of the approaching winter should have been enough to freeze him.

He had spent the entire evening there, and I wondered why Hercules hadn't sent him home. I feared his infatuation had given way to obsession, and I was not flattered.

"Wake up, leech." I poured a vase of water over his face to wake him. Cruel, but effective.

He sprang up, flailing his limbs about in a chaotic fit that would have done him no favor had I been the assailant he seemed to fear. Once he realized it was me, his twisted face dulled into a bright smile, my trespasses forgotten without any effort at all. I dodged his attempt to scoop me into his arms and raised my hands between us to ward off any further advances.

"Not today, Chrysaor. I haven't the patience this morning. Go home to your wife."

My rejection only seemed to encourage him, and his lips spread into a wide smile..

"Ah. So Sir Perseus was not as satisfying as you are used to." He grabbed at his manhood. "You've been spoiled, you poor wench."

"Get. Out."

He let himself believe his delusion, and I refused to argue it any farther. I refused to waste the little energy I had arguing with a simpleton. He heard what he needed to hear, and even if it was nothing close to what I'd said, he left satisfied just the same.

Sleep had not come to me last night at all. My mind was too full and my heart too unsettled. I was angry, angry with The Fates for their deceit, angry with Chrysaor for both claiming my title and for his unhealthy cling to me. I was angry with Perseus for more reasons than I could begin to think of.

But no matter how badly the blood in my veins burned at them all, I couldn't allow it to interfere with my plan. My course had been changed. I would still kill Perseus, but not until it suited me better.

"You look as though you've had a rough night." Hercules rounded a rafter, once again seeming to appear from the air.

"One could say that." I hardly looked up as I wiped the table with a damp cloth.

"Chrysaor tells me you spent the night with one of the travelers. I am surprised he let you go so easy."

"Why did you not send him home last night as you did the other patrons?"

"I would never forcibly remove my most profitable client."

"He needs to distance himself from me." I squeezed his forearm to be sure I had his full attention. "He is beginning to blur the line between business and matters of the heart."

"The matters of his heart are of no concern to me, only the matters of his satchel."

"But I'm afraid of what—"

"Ambrosia, I've said my piece. He's a clumsy oaf. No matter who or what his beast of a mother is, you've nothing to fear of him. I've seen you take down men three times his size with no trouble at all."

I released my grip on him and swallowed hard to fight back the fury beginning to over-boil. If my mother was a monster, that would make me a half-breed to him, no doubt.

"Hercules, I need to take some time away from the brothel." I changed the subject abruptly to prevent my own outburst.

His brows arched to a comical angle, and his mouth twitched into a half smile. "Are you mad?" He half chuckled. "You are my highest earner. I won't lose out on my gold so you can take a vacation. That isn't the industry you're in, you know that, Ambrosia."

"I am not asking for the sake of a holiday, Hercules. In fact, I am not asking at all. I am telling you so you do not worry yourself over my absence."

He moved closer to me, his steps slow and deliberate with the intent to intimidate. Towering over me, he stretched his spine and broadened his shoulders to give the illusion of being even larger than he was.

"You are mine. I will dismiss your services when you are no longer of use to me, but as it stands, you will remain here. In this brothel and in this tavern. I have allowed you to take advantage of my good nature many times, Ambrosia. But you won't cost me my gold."

"I see. Well, Master..." I curtsied insincerely and sent sarcasm splattering from my words. "May I assume then if I stop bathing and suddenly become much less dedicated in my duties, you will no longer require my services?"

With a speed like none I had ever witnessed, his palm made contact with the side of my face, and a sharp whipping sound echoed off the walls.

Tears stung my eyes. Not so much from the pain, it did not hurt as bad as it sounded. But from the surprise. I had never seen nor heard of Hercules striking one of the women he owned. That had been one of the reasons I sought out his brothel instead of one of the countless others.

I reached my hand up to return the blow, but before I could strike, a body stood between us. A large, familiar body swiftly pinned Hercules against the wall.

"It's a bit early to be disciplining your wenches so harshly," Perseus sneered.

I had left him in my quarters to finish sleeping off the poison left behind by the alcohol. His presence here was unexpected, but his timing couldn't have been better.

"This is none of your affair." Hercules fought hard to push his way free, but though Perseus was smaller, he was much stronger.

"I have made it my affair." Perseus dug his arm hard into Hercules' neck, and I held my own, imagining the force of the pressure. "The children of Zeus are said to be honorable demigods. Tell me, where is the honor in the trade you chose?"

"You know nothing of it," Hercules breathed through his pain.

"No, perhaps I do not," Perseus conceded. "How you came to your profession, in truth I do not care at all. However, I have never known an honorable man to strike a young lady. What is your excuse for that?"

I didn't miss the irony in his statement. He couldn't think of himself as an honorable man by his own standards. But what lingered was the feeling that these men knew each other, and by Perseus' knowledge of his relation to Zeus, I could only assume they knew each other fairly well.

When Hercules volunteered no explanation, Perseus released him from his clutches but not his look of fury. Pink splashed across Hercules' cheeks as his role as the submissive in this quarrel became obvious. Fists clenched at his sides, he dropped his head and stormed out. If I had planned on returning after my adventure, I certainly wouldn't be welcome now.

"Thank you." The words felt foreign leaving my tongue since I was accustomed to fighting my own battles. I wasn't sure how I felt about him being the one to come to my aid, but I supposed being grateful was expected.

"It was nothing." He waved it off. "Before I left, I wanted to apologize for my strange behavior last night."

"It was nothing." I repeated his words with a soft shrug. "But before you go, let me bring you some pastries for breakfast. I have little doubt your stomach could use settling."

"That does sound good, thank you."

I needed his spirits up if I had any hope of convincing him to let me join his quest.

A quick trip to the kitchen, and I returned with my arms full of honey fritters. His face lit up at the sight of them. When he devoured them without taking a breath between bites, it occurred to me he likely had not eaten for quite some time.

"Would you like some more?" I offered, amused at his voracious appetite.

"No." Crumbs fell into his beard. "This is more than enough."

"Perseus," I started. "Can I ask you something?"

"I can't guarantee an honest answer, but you may ask."

"Last night you said something about Medusa."

He squinted his eyes, as if he was traipsing his mind in search of the memory. His body stiffened, and he dropped his jaw, signaling that he had recalled his slip and was horrified at himself.

"You should not have heard that. You can't repeat it to anyone," he said.

"I won't." I batted my lashes at him. "Not if you take me with you."

He threw his head back and bellowed a hearty, charming laugh that sent heat racing to my cheeks. I should have been insulted; he was laughing at me, effectively dismissing my proposal. But something about the way he laughed softened my core, and even the discourtesy meant by it couldn't stir me.

"I am glad you find me amusing." I smiled. "I will remember to make use of my humor during our journey."

"Ambrosia, I can't blame you for wanting to escape this life. But have faith in my words; my path will lead to far more suffering than anything you may encounter here."

"I chose this." I fanned the room with my arms. "I was not sold to Hercules, I gave myself to him. I gave myself to him to find you."

He narrowed his eyes. "Your flattery is kind, but not believable. You couldn't have known I would show up here."

"I could. And I did."

"How?"

"I may be uneducated, Perseus, but I am not a fool. I knew Chrysaor to be a fake the moment I heard his tall tales. The offspring of Medusa wouldn't parade himself about willingly. It's a shameful thing to be a half-breed. I knew you would search him out."

"You are wrong. I did not come here in search of him. In fact, I avoided him. I have learned my lesson about searching out confrontation. This tavern was merely a stop in my travels, nothing more."

"But you _are_ searching for Medusa? The cave where you found her the first time is not far. Why stop here?"

"I have been to the cave. It's sealed by magical forces. She must have done it after I almost finished her."

The revelation should have sunk my hopes, but instead, it gave me something to use against him, and I was now even more confident I could convince him to help me.

"I can help you."

"You know how to unseal the caves?" His voice was raw with skepticism.

"No," I admitted. "But I do know who can tell us how."

"And who could possibly know that besides Zeus himself?"

"First promise me. Promise me if I help you find the secret to reversing the magic, you will bring me with you."

He tapped the table next to his dish of fritters and considered my offer.

"What stake do you have in this? What is your conflict with Medusa?"

"I have no conflict with her. It's adventure I seek." I averted my gaze to hide the lie.

"It's suicide. There is no adventure in that. I do not need to be concerned with your safety as well as my own."

"If I die, it's my own doing. I do not ask you to bear the responsibility for my life at all."

Perseus wiped the perspiration from his brow and then covered his mouth as if to stifle the words that came next.

"All right, Ambrosia. Who can tell me how to unseal the cave?"

"The Three Witches." I smiled.

"The Fates?" His jaw dropped, and he jumped to his feet in childish excitement. "You know where to find The Fates?"

"I know where to find The Fates," I proudly proclaimed.

# Chapter 6

"Are you certain you know where we are going?"

Perseus' doubt was well-founded. I feared he might recognize the path to the home where he'd left me as an infant, so to throw him off, I had taken us in circles.

"I'm certain, Perseus. Try to keep up, we're nearly there."

The forest was thick. The brush of the trees created a shelter above us, keeping the sun from beating on our backs. The crackle of the leaves under our feet made the only sounds to be heard since we entered the ominous place. The dark land was nearly empty, void of birds, rodents or any other creature save the serpents who sought comfort in their damp safe-haven.

With no real discerning markings, one could easily get turned around in the confusing landscape. I'd spent much of my childhood lost in these woods, and I'd learned to navigate them by instinct alone. Each tree smelled unique. Their personalized odors were discrete, but if you paid close enough attention to it, they left a trail for one to follow home. Their scents welcomed me.

So much of my life had been spent seeking refuge with these trees. I would hide at the tops when I grew tired of The Fates insisting I continue with my sword lessons or spend countless hours studying the gods so I might know how to defeat them if the need arose. Such a destiny was a difficult burden for a child. I was safe up there; their urgency couldn't reach me if their demands couldn't find me. I had missed each and every one of these trees, even if I had not realized it until just now.

Finally, we entered the clearing that revealed a cobblestone path leading to a rustic wood cabin. I had not taken into account the unique nature of the dwelling that housed The Fates. From Greece to Rome, the buildings were made of brick and marble, but this house had been here long before Greece and Rome were even thought of. I had never seen another home made in the same fashion.

Perseus stopped short when it came into view. "Is this their residence?"

"It is. Does it seem familiar?" Feigning innocence, I kept walking in hopes he would follow, but he did not.

"How did you say you knew where to find them?"

"I have been here before."

He sprinted to close the gap between us and blocked my advancement. "That much is clear. What was your business here before?"

"I required their assistance for a previous task." I knew the vagueness in my answer wouldn't suffice, but it gave me time to think.

"What task was that, Ambrosia?" His stern voice demanded an answer.

"They helped me to find Chrysaor." This time I did not have to lie. They did indeed disclose his location to me.

"I thought you said you came looking for me?"

"I said I knew you would turn up where Chrysaor was. He was but a link in my ultimate destination. You are a demigod. They couldn't help me to locate you."

Perseus was uneasy, and he stared over my head into the woods behind me, to where we had only just emerged. His brows stitched together in concern. He was ready to turn back, no doubt fearing he was walking into a trap.

I grabbed hold of his breastplate and brought him close. "Steady your heart, Perseus. You have nothing to fear from them. They are nothing like the legends say."

Like the egotistical man he was, he reacted just as I had anticipated.

"I am not afraid," he insisted, brushing me aside and continuing up the path. "They are three feeble old women. Why on earth would I be frightened of them?"

I frowned, and a sudden surge of protectiveness poured through me. They were old, older than the gods themselves, in fact. But to hear them called feeble was a blow to my reality. To me, they were all-powerful and all-knowing. To me, they were invincible.

They may not have been the most tender of parents during my upbringing, as they were far more concerned with my training than my emotional development. But they carried a heavy burden when they took me in.

It would have been far easier for them to cast me out to the wolves. Instead, they'd chosen to enlighten me as to their ways, bringing me into their world of power in spite of the fact that I had nothing but shame to offer them in my name.

No, they were not the terrifying, heartless, weakened women the mortal world had named them to be.

"It's going to rain, you idiots." The long-familiar, grainy voice of Atropos yelled at us from the side of the house. "Are you going to get in here, or would you rather catch your death?"

She winked at her own pun. Oh, dear Zeus, I had missed her twisted sense of humor. I wanted to run to her, to hold her as tight as I had when I was a child. Glancing up at Perseus, I knew I couldn't if I wanted to keep my secret, and the realization tore apart my gut.

He rushed to her call, and I followed at a slow, somber pace. My homecoming was bitter-sweet, and I did not wish any of them to see the distress it caused me. The women would scold me for it, and Perseus wouldn't understand my behavior.

Once inside, I was pleasantly surprised to find everything had stayed the same, as it presumably had for eons before I came along.

One main room housed the kitchen and beds, which were only for show. Everyone knew that Fate didn't sleep. The walls were covered with shelves that were filled with thousands of books, each with its own layer of dust. Three wooden chairs circled a cauldron, and in the center of the room was one long, red, under-padded sofa that used to serve as my own bed.

Hidden in the corner was Clotho, spinning some new soul's thread of life into existence. She was always spinning, and her nimble fingers never tired of the task. They should be filled with callouses and sores, but the skin on them was smooth and as delicate as a mortal baby's might be.

"That is long enough for him," Lachesis nagged at Clotho, pointing her own arthritis mangled, bony finger at the thread being weaved. "That mortal will do nothing special. There is no need to extend his time here."

I couldn't help but giggle at the ordinary scene unfolding. The two women spent most of their time arguing about the appropriate length of a new mortal's life. I thought Clotho would squabble just for the sake of it, since we all knew ultimately, the decision was Lachesis' to make.

The door behind us slammed closed, and Atropos waddled in, clutching her infamous scissors that were responsible for snipping the threads spun and measured by the others, effectively ending the life attached to it. They never, ever left her hand.

"Put it away, girls," she interrupted the bickering. "It's such a rare occasion that we have guests."

Atropos was always the matriarch of our strange little family. Her word was heeded by us all, and today was no exception.

Clotho sealed her stitch and Lachesis opened up a chest for her to place the thread in. When opened, the inside of the chest illuminated the room with the bright glow emitted from the countless threads of life inside. The chest was bottomless. It would have to be to hold so much without ever filling.

Fetching a thread from inside was so magical to watch, I found myself wishing I could see it once more. Atropos would have a vision of the mortal attached, and a whisper of the name was all it took.

The chest would open, and a rainbow was cast to her to connect them, no matter where she happened to be. The appropriate thread would find its way through the others to the colorful pathway. Atropos had the awesome power of deciding if the person should have another chance at life, or if he had reached his end.

Seeing the fates all sitting together, it would be easy for a stranger such as Perseus to mistake them for triplets. They all bore the same long, thin gray hair that outlined their nearly identical faces, sharp noses, and wrinkled round cheeks that circled their few-toothed smiles. The only differences were subtle. Clotho's hands, of course, set her apart, and Atropos' left eye was a bright, blood red instead of the matching blue the other women had. It was in that eye that she received her visions.

I worried they might be offended by the lack of familiarity in my entrance. My concern was squelched as Atropos winked at me with her blemished eye indicating they understood the reason, and that they would keep my secret.

"You have come a long way, Perseus." Atropos gestured to the couch. "Please, have a seat and rest."

"Thank you." He accepted her invitation, but only after bringing me to sit with him. His trembling hands gave him away; he was afraid, no matter if he would admit it or not.

"Great tragedy has fallen on you recently." Clotho offered her sympathy. "It takes a brave man to begin searching for more heartache so soon."

"I don't understand." He shook his head.

"You will. Now, for what reason do you search us out?"

"I think you already know the answer to that." I had forgotten I was angry with them for their omission about my mother, but the hurt came spiraling back at the recollection.

"We understand you feel betrayed," Lachesis offered. "But we may only reveal what will bring you to the start of your destiny."

Perseus winced, trying to catch up, but I continued anyway.

"Surely, there are reasonable exceptions to that rule."

"There are no exceptions."

Her words hit my heart like a piercing blade. Even I was nothing more in their game of life than a pawn. The news was nothing new; I had been told as much several times throughout my life, but the sting was just as sharp this time as the first.

I did not care to drag on the hurt, and I suddenly wanted to free myself of this place just as strongly as the last time I left.

"Perseus says he couldn't enter Medusa's layer a second time." My direction was now strictly business, whatever could get us on our way the quickest. "It has been sealed off. How do we get in?"

"Perseus," Clotho began. "You have not tried to enter yourself?"

"No," he admitted. "My horse wandered too close to the entrance and fell to the ground as we prepared for battle. Fearing we might suffer the same fate, my men and I chose to retreat."

"And that was a wise decision," she cackled. "You would have indeed met your end. Whoever cursed the entrance following your first quest did so with a magic forbidding entry to any whom he has not deemed worthy."

"Surely, he can't call me unworthy," Perseus stated defensively. "I slayed her the first time!"

"You failed," Atropos reminded him.

"I cut off her bloody head!"

"She is a gorgon, you simpleton. They regenerate themselves."

"Yes, they regenerate their limbs. How was I to anticipate that she would regrow her head, as well?"

"You are a warrior," Lachesis taunted. "A good warrior is prepared for everything imaginable."

"I am a great warrior! I got closer than any other man who tried to defeat her!"

"Yes, you got closer, but in the end, you still _failed_. You can claim no higher status than the rest of the useless mortals who tried."

Perseus was on his feet now, and I pulled at his arm to calm him, but he was beyond consolation.

"Listen, you wretched old—"

"That's enough!" I stamped my foot like a child, and my tongue burned as a defense for my enemy formed. "I did not bring Perseus here to be belittled. You can't question his talent as a warrior; you have nothing to stand on to do so. If you are not prepared to assist us, then give us the courtesy of telling us so that we may be on our way."

The room fell silent. I had their attention. It felt strange to be the one doing the chiding under this roof. The student was yelling at the teacher, and it was liberating. What's more, they were taking my words seriously.

"All right, then," Atropos considered. "You will need to go to Athens. You will find Hadrian's Arch, the barrier between the mortal and supernatural realm."

"The entrance to Athena's temple?" Perseus questioned.

"Yes, you know it well, we are aware."

"What could Athena have to offer us that you couldn't?" He tilted his head in question.

"Answers," Clotho said.

"But you have the answers," I pressed. "Why can't you just give them, instead of sending us away to find them elsewhere?"

"We may only reveal what will bring you to the start of your destiny," Lachesis repeated.

# Chapter 7

We stepped outside, and just as we placed foot to dirt, a deafening roar of thunder crashed overhead, and a treacherous downpour of rain fell on us. My tunic clung to my breasts, and Perseus' eyes lingered only briefly before he made a dash for the dry haven offered by the canopy of trees ahead.

A moment to orient myself was all I needed to recognize that he was headed south, the opposite of where we had been instructed to go. I chased after him, shouting for his attention, but the storm's voice carried louder than my own. Once we were under cover, he halted and watched me approach.

"Perseus." I dropped my hands to my knees and bent over, heaving to catch my breath. "Why are you going this way? Athens is north."

Light sprinkles escaped through the small openings between the branches above and landed on his face. They trickled down his jaw line, and he wiped them away.

"We will need reinforcements. My men are camped a few hours south, and if we hurry we can catch them before they leave."

"Wait. No." My stomach turned at the prospect. More of his men hell-bent on taking Medusa's head would mean extra bodies I would need to cut through to save her once she was freed. "More men will mean sharing the reward."

"Are you dense? There will be no reward. This is to be done in secret. Not a soul who does not need to know will know. It's my reputation at stake."

"Well..." I dug deep for another reason to convince him that we should not collect the others, but then he removed his breastplate, revealing the thin cotton shirt underneath that acted like another layer of skin as soaked as it was. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I caught myself noticing the outline of the muscles rippling his stomach, plunging perfectly into the beige pants that sat deliciously on his hips.

I pinched my lips when I thought of how silly my humiliation was. I had seen many, many men in their naked form. I controlled myself with them; why should he be any different? Still, I lost my breath again with no sprint to blame it on, as well as being utterly distracted. And now he was taking his shirt off.

"Why...why are you undressing?" I pressed my palm against my forehead and closed my eyes, willing away the building attraction.

"It's going to get cold tonight. My clothes won't dry at all if they're covered by this." He banged on his breastplate.

I examined my own wet clothing and pondered what to do with myself. I hadn't had the foresight to bring anything to change into.

"I have some extra clothing at camp," he offered, after seeing my concern. "The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can get you into something dry."

I imagined myself traipsing about in his clothing. I was sure they were unclean and filled with his stench. I bit my lip hard to punish myself for not being immediately disgusted by the notion. Smelling like one's enemy—was there any greater insult?

"Thank you for the offer, but I did give you my word that you wouldn't need to worry about me, and I insist on sticking to my part of the bargain."

"This will be a short journey for you if you insist on allowing your pride to be your undoing." He winked and smiled a devastating, knee-rattling grin.

My pride didn't concern me. The way my heart and gut took turns flipping as he looked at me in that way, however, very well could be my downfall. I shook my head hard, dispelling the ridiculous thoughts. I had to remind myself that he was the enemy.

"It shouldn't be too cold tonight."

"Right. Well, have it your way then," he said over his shoulder as he continued south.

"You're still going? We'll lose precious time if we worry about bringing your friends along. We can do it ourselves. It will be simple."

"Simple?" He turned with an entertained smirk. "Nothing about this will be simple. Your mouth gives away just how young and naïve you truly are, even if your body suggests otherwise."

"You don't have any idea how old I am!" I planted my fists on my hips in challenge.

"Oh, sweet, young Ambrosia. I have some idea." He winked before he shifted again to move away. "You may head north with your overly-enthusiastic, simple, hard-headed manner. But I won't progress without the help of my men."

Cursing under my breath, I relented and followed close behind, replaying his claim to know more about me than he was letting on. If he knew who I was, surely he would never have agreed to bring me along. He did not strike me as a particularly dopey man, so he would know what danger would be waiting at the end if he brought Medusa's progeny with him. No, he was playing with me, that was all.

As promised, after a few hours of crossing the forest and making our way around a number of small mountains we found ourselves in the middle of an unsuspecting farmer's pasture where the same two men who had been with Perseus in the bar sat in front of a warm fire.

I was nearly frozen by the time we arrived. My dress had not dried, and the chill of autumn had almost hardened the fabric onto my skin. The glistening embers welcomed me, and I stood as close to them as I could manage without getting burned.

"Picked yourself up a wench, Perseus?" one of the men jeered. "And a pretty one, too."

The other gentleman seemed far less amused and pulled a blanket from the bag that hung from the side of his horse.

"You'll have her catch her death this way." His scowl deepened as he shook his head at Perseus. He draped the wool over my shoulders and wrapped me tightly. "You should have stopped to make a fire."

"Bah." Perseus fended off the man's suggestion with a wave of his hand. "We would have missed you if we had stopped, Nikkias."

"And we would have found each other later. Her life is not worth one night's company with us."

"Leave him be," the first man said. "From the looks of her, she's a whore anyway. What does it matter? In fact..." He examined me more closely. "I recognize you from the tavern. You _are_ a whore! Perseus seeks the comfort of a whore. Now, I may die in peace."

His disgusting, cavity-covered teeth were waving at us, and I wanted to hit them all until they fell from where they hung. He wouldn't be so pleased with himself when the day came that I could cut his injurious words from his tongue.

The kind one, Nikkias, glared at him. To my surprise, so did Perseus.

"You will watch your words," Perseus demanded before turning to me. "I am sorry for Homer's demeanor. He is only this brash when he is drinking."

"I see." I flashed a weak smile. "So, drunken idiocy runs in your group, then?"

Perseus frowned, but Homer found my jab as hilarious as you might expect from a drunk. His laugh was more of a hiss, and the stupid sound made my skin crawl.

"Forgive me," I apologized to the man who had just come to my defense, suddenly feeling guilty that I had deflected the cruelty from me to him.

"It's nothing." He handed me a piece of the bird I had not noticed roasting over the fire. "You will need your strength where we're going."

"Where are we going?" Homer prodded.

"Here, m'lady." Nikkias handed me a woman's blue tunic, bunched up into a wad. "Just do not ask where it came from."

His kind eyes made me smile. This one's soul I had no issue reading at all. He was good-natured and benign, but deep down, I could tell he was also marred by some tragedy. I admired his refusal to let it turn him cold. This was a difficult task few men were wise enough to master. I liked Nikkias, and that was rare for me.

The Fates called my ability to _read_ a person's eyes a gift, and I had to agree with that. It saved me from being manipulated into being prey in the way so many women were. It had become a crutch for me, and I relied on it maybe a little too often, because occasionally I ran across demigods like Perseus and Hercules. They were immune to my ability, and I couldn't read them all. I had made a habit of avoiding these few as often as possible. All except Hercules, whom I had clearly misjudged.

"It's no business of mine where you obtain your items," I assured him as I graciously accepted the dress.

A nearby oak tree provided the privacy I needed to change. The brisk air hit my body like hundreds of knives piercing my skin at once, and I was quick to jump into the dry clothing before returning to join the men.

"Hey!" Homer shouted louder than necessary. "I asked you a question. Where are we going?"

He was looking at me when he spoke, and I avoided acknowledging his attention. I was not his paid escort and wouldn't even associate with the man as long as he was drunk.

Instead, I grabbed a log the men had cut and set aside for the fire and threw it down to sit on while I ate the meat that was given to me.

"To The Arch of Hadrian," Perseus started. "And then, who knows? Likely the underworld itself."

Nikkias' eyes widened. "We will be entering the supernatural realm, then?"

"I doubt we will get that far. Athena's temple is our destination, and that is but a passageway between the worlds."

"You've been there, Perseus?" I asked with a gasp of astonishment. He had been so many places in his lifetime, while I had only read about them in my books.

"I have." He spoke with his mouth full, but I paid little attention to the bits of food that went flying. "I gave the goddess Medusa's head when I was through with it."

"What in Hades would Athena need with Medusa's head?"

All three men stared as if this was common knowledge, and I shifted uncomfortably on the log.

"She put it on her shield," Perseus explained. "To use as a weapon."

"Of course, she did," I mumbled. No matter what realm you traveled to, the disturbing truth was that the desire for power came before the dire need for peace. I should have known my mother's head had ultimately been used for destruction.

"Is it dangerous?" Nikkias wondered aloud.

"Ordinarily, no," Perseus explained. "But in truth, I do not know how the goddess will react when she learns I claimed a premature victory."

"It was an honest mistake, Perseus."

"But a mistake nonetheless, and a terrible one at that."

"You don't think she knows already?" I asked, feeling certain a god would know these things.

"I doubt it very much," Perseus said with confidence. "She would have sent for me if she did, I'm sure of it."

"Well, how did _you_ find out?"

The air between us grew quiet and uneasy, and Nikkias excused himself to fetch some more wood for the fire. Homer had fallen asleep where he sat, and Perseus shifted him down onto the ground. We were alone again, and I wanted to run to somewhere less private.

I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around me. It was getting colder, and I couldn't get any closer to the fire than I already was.

"You're still cold?" Perseus asked, changing the subject without missing a beat.

"I'll be fine." I sniffled and inched just the tiniest bit closer to the heat. "I just need to work away this chill."

"Nikkias is right; I should have stopped and made a fire. I put your life in jeopardy. I'm sorry."

The tenderness surrounding his now-much softer features filled my heart with a warmth I couldn't afford to feel. This man was making quick work of my defenses without any effort, and I had to find a way to protect the wall I had taken so much care to build around my heart. I resorted to my natural instinct against such things.

"You're being dramatic, Perseus." I waved him off, doing my best to cast out a cool and uncaring façade.

Perseus clucked his tongue. "You needn't be so self-sufficient. I get it, Ambrosia, all of Greece understands you can take care of yourself."

He sat on the ground next to me and pulled me onto his lap, bringing his arms around me to cover my shaking body. I hated myself for not being strong enough to pull away.

Instead, my body sank down into his, and I closed my eyes. I was no longer cold. The warmth from his body soaked into my own, and I found comfort where I should have felt disdain.

But I had not slept the night before, and today's travel had been exhausting. I was tired, so bone-achingly tired.

# Chapter 8

Athens was a bustling city, full of beggars and aristocrats alike. Vendors lined the streets and swarmed our horses when we tried to pass. Polite disinterest wouldn't suffice; Perseus and the other men had to resort to stern threats for them to step aside. They were all hungry for business, and travelers were their specialty clientele.

I rode with Perseus on his new cocoa-colored steed, listening to him grumble about how this horse—Thunder was the name I gave him because of his clunky trot—couldn't measure up to his brilliant midnight stallion that had perished at Medusa's cave. I would have preferred to ride with Nikkias, but his horse was not fully broken, and Perseus insisted two riders would stress him too much.

We appeared from the outside to be a band of outlaws on the run to some hideaway, but it felt more like we were crusaders on a gallant quest. If I let myself think about it, I became almost completely giddy with excitement. I was finally having my adventure. If only I were not riding in the arms of my enemy, it might have been perfect.

As we approached the center of Athens, The Arch of Hadrian came into view. It was a gigantic wall of sandstone marble that spanned as far as the eye could see in both directions and towered over even the tallest building in my small corner of Greece. Nothing of exceptional importance could be seen through the archway. It only looked like the continuation of what was on our side of it, and I couldn't help but groan at the disappointment. In unison, the horses stopped short just in front of the structure, as if sensing something we couldn't see.

"I was expecting something a bit more...magical," I complained to no one in particular.

"It's an illusion," Perseus explained.

He brought his hand around to hold my waist. My body tensed, and I was grossly unprepared for the reaction. I lost my breath, and my neck tingled where his breath fell. My heart fluttered, and without thinking, my hand found his and our fingers intertwined.

My mind screamed at my body to stop the nonsense, to climb down from the horse and walk the rest of the way if I must. He was too close, more comfortable than he should be. But when his arm drew me closer against his chest, I was powerless.

"Hold on," he whispered.

He kicked his horse hard, and Thunder pulled back in protest, nearly casting us both off. Another kick convinced him to obey, and he dashed forward with lightning speed, causing me to squeal, half in fear and half in excitement. As we passed through the archway, an invisible force pushed against us, but Perseus used his strength to balance us both and keep us from tipping backward.

"Are you all right?" He turned my chin and searched my face for a sign of fear. A wicked smile splashed across my lips, and he shook his head, "You're a wild one, sweet Ambrosia."

My heart had not stopped flying from before, and now, looking into his eyes and seeing the wonder that filled them at my courage, it soared. My throat went dry, and my face burned with wanting. I would have him now on this horse if he would let me.

"It's beautiful!" Homer's shout pulled me from my trance, and I dropped my gaze to the ground, again ashamed of myself now that reality had returned to me.

It was an impressive sight, and _beautiful_ was an understatement. The ground was covered with a cyan sand. The feet of the horses sunk only slightly as they stepped into the soft clouds that floated around our heads.

A howling waterfall to our side fell into a sea of rainbow colors, and fair winged beings collected water from the bottom. Their golden faces twinkled at us as we passed, and they received us with a gentle wave of their petite hands.

Far off in the distance stood a grand castle made of what appeared to be stained glass. The light of the sun shimmered off it so that light radiated from each point, casting beams of colorful rainbows into the sky and air. It was surrounded by a moat, thanks to the waterfall that was now behind us, preventing our headway.

"Is that Athena's Temple?" I parted my lips, marveling at the glorious nature of the structure.

"It is," Perseus affirmed. "It's a sight one never forgets."

It was such a warm and blessed place that I couldn't imagine war having a grip on it at all. My mother's head should not be needed to protect a land such as this one. I couldn't fathom anyone wanting to destroy such beauty.

Nikkias and Homer followed closely behind. I glanced back at their unhinged jaws as they took in the sights around them. I closed my own mouth when I caught sight of how silly they looked. I preferred to meet the goddess without coming off as an air-headed tourist.

We stopped at the water's edge, and a man appeared at our side, materializing from the air. He was tiny but regal, with an erect posture. He wore a green, poofy suit that, coupled with a pair of fuzzy red eyebrows, made me want to giggle. Out of respect, I restrained myself. In one of his hands was a golden scroll, and in the other was a quill made from a peacock feather.

"The goddess was not expecting any visitors." He cited the parchment he was holding. His voice was shrill and matched his stature.

"It's a matter of grave importance," Perseus asserted firmly. "Tell her Perseus is here. She will let me in."

The little man groaned at the inconvenience and vanished again. Once he left, I couldn't contain the giggles forming in my throat any longer. I snorted a laugh that grew into a side-splitting cackle, drawing the attention from all the winged-creatures around us. I couldn't help myself, and tears flooded my eyes from the pain in my gut.

The other men stared at me at first, probably shocked at my childish display. But Perseus was the first to break, and his deep, contagious chuckle coaxed the others into giving in. I imagined we looked like drunken fools to the others watching.

The little man appeared again, and Perseus' hand slapped over my face to stifle the noise. I breathed hard to calm myself. I struggled to control my breathing as his stomach tightened against my back, fighting against his own continued outburst.

"The goddess will accept your company." He tapped his tiny foot.

"Yes, thank you," Perseus responded between long, exaggerated breaths and fake coughs. "Please, lead the way."

The gate lifted, and a gigantic, stained-glass bridge dropped from the front of the castle, and the lighthearted moment was gone. I looked fearfully downward and back up at Perseus. The horses were certainly too heavy to cross the bridge; I wouldn't even trust my own weight against the material.

He nodded knowingly and urged his horse forward. He had been here before, I reminded myself. He wouldn't cross it if it wouldn't hold. I would need to trust him.

When the horse stamped his foot down onto the glass, the sound suggested he had stepped on wood. A strange contradiction, but it comforted me just the same.

Once we reached the other side, we dismounted. Men who introduced themselves as servants took our horses and brought them to the stables. On foot, we entered the largest door I had ever seen.

The inside of this incredible building left was even more stunning than the outside.

The floors were clear glass, and through the bottom, it was revealed we were standing on top of a lake. Brightly colored fish darted after their prey, and plants danced along with the current each of our footsteps created.

I had to fight the urge to drop to my knees and watch the world that had always been hidden behind a murky screen. The underwater world had always fascinated me, and seeing it so clear was a dream come true.

Every piece of furniture and decoration was glass, as well. Even the grand staircase. The funny-looking man led us up, and I ran my hand along the railing, in awe of the craftsmanship. Not a nick or bump could be felt on its surface. When I looked down at my dirty, unworthy shoes stepping on the stairs, the contrast was disheartening. For the first time, I noted our escort wore white gloves, quite likely to keep from smudging the decor. I wished I could show the same courtesy.

Another doorway halfway up the height of the castle brought us into a dining room with a table that illuminated the same cyan as the ground outside. We were directed to sit, and I chose a chair next to Perseus. Under the table, his hand gave mine a gentle squeeze, and I returned the gesture with a weak smile.

He surely noticed how out of place I felt, and I wanted to show him I was fine so he wouldn't worry. He had more pressing matters to be concerned with than my silly discomfort.

Servants scrambled about setting the table. They placed porcelain cups in front of us, as well as in front of two empty chairs—one at the very head of the table that resembled a throne. That would be where the goddess sat. Small matching plates were set next to each cup.

In the center, a dish of pastries was left with a small cup of milk next to it. We would be having tea, it seemed. That dreadful, earthy beverage that made me gag every time The Fates forced me to drink it. I wouldn't be so rude here, of course. I would drink it and pretend it was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. That's what was expected, I assumed.

At once, the servants lined up and stilled. The graceful music of a harp sounded from inside the walls. Perseus, seeming to know the significance, stood and brought me with him. I was grateful to have him as my guide as I mirrored his respectful stance.

The other men again wore expressions like my own. We were excited, terrified and anxious, and our faces twisted to show as much. The anticipation piqued when a chandelier that hung above began to fluoresce so brightly it would have blinded us if we had not torn out gazes away.

I squeezed my eyes closed and raised my arm to block it out. Even through my clenched lids, it still felt like looking directly at the sun. Slowly, the light faded, and when I opened my eyes, green spots clouded my vision. The spots, too, faded, and when they did I saw her.

Athena was perched ever so delicately on her throne. Her silver hair was curled and fell finely onto her shoulders, and her matching eyes scanned us all with friendly observance. She was a beautiful vision, even more so than she had been generously depicted by the greatest artists. She wore a form-fitting blue dress that gave way to her curves and complimented on her alabaster skin.

Nikkias and Homer were stunned at the sight of her, but Perseus merely half-bowed in colloquial familiarity.

It had taken me some time to notice the man who appeared with her. Sitting directly across me from me, I didn't know how I could have missed him.

"Hercules?" I gasped in disbelief.

# Chapter 9

He scowled at me from beneath his dark, furrowed brows, his gaze fixed on my hands, which clutched Perseus' arm in a possessive fashion. I dropped them to my side and couldn't decide if I should be happy to see him or not. He had been a friend, or so I thought. Our last meeting had called that into question.

"Hercules," I repeated. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I am visiting my sister." He tilted his head sharply in the direction of Athena. "I should ask what you are doing here, but given your choice of company, I am not sure I want to know."

The air between Perseus and Hercules was thick, though I couldn't decipher the reason behind the tension. Perseus' hand caught my hip and pulled me close to him, and Hercules tightened his fists at his side. The unspoken threat prompted Nikkias and Homer to clutch at the swords that hung at their trousers, ready to jump to their comrade's defense.

The feeling around us was reminiscent of when the three of us were in the tavern, and somehow, I was a part of it. There was more to this story than a mere acquaintanceship.

"To my knowledge, both of you were here to see me." The goddess referred to her brother and Perseus, but she smiled at me sympathetically. "I won't have your petty quarrel souring my mood."

"Forgive me, Goddess," Perseus said, after a moment, with the slightest hint of contempt in his voice.

She swatted at the air. "Have a seat, all of you. And do enjoy the pastries. I made them myself."

She glowed with pride at her small accomplishment, and we followed her command without argument. I shifted my weight to the side opposite of Perseus and parted my lips, laying a thoughtful gaze on Hercules across the table.

It took a moment, but eventually, he softened and smiled at me. There was the smile I knew so well, and I appreciated the momentary glimpse into what had been my life only days ago.

"I have heard about your wife, Perseus," Athena said softly. "I am very sorry for your loss."

Perseus fidgeted under the weight of everyone's silent stares, and even Hercules' face deflated to silently offer his condolences.

"Thank you." He cleared his throat. "I can only assume you know why I am here then."

"No. I am afraid I do not. After such a long time, I am curious as to what brings you to my realm. I have not seen you since you delivered the gorgon's head."

The callousness of her tone hit me like a weapon, and I breathed deeply to chase away the pain inflicted by her words.

"It seems..."

"Out with it!" Hercules barked the impatient demand, but Athena raised her hand against his outburst.

"It seems Medusa is not defeated."

The room went deathly quiet for a moment, but the condescending chuckle birthed by Hercules' belly shattered the silence. He wiped away a tear, and the prodding began.

"You stupid oaf," he snickered. "Only you could screw up a beheading. You see, sister? I told you even back then that this simpleton was not capable of such a task."

"That's enough." Her silver eyes bore into him. "Is that all? What business is that of mine? You found her once. Return to her and finish the quest. There is nothing complicated about it."

Perseus nodded slowly. "We were told to seek your council. The cave has been sealed off by magic. We need to break the barrier somehow."

The light reflected off her brilliantly white teeth when she smiled back at him and clapped joyfully. She had a bubbly aura about her that was delightfully mood-elevating.

"Oh! That will be simple," she squealed gleefully. "Well, simple for me to find the solution, not so simple for you to execute it, I'm sure. Philip!"

The small man from earlier appeared with a clear crystal ball that he presented to the goddess on a velvet pillow. She took it from him and carefully placed it on the table. Her eyes closed, and she waved her hands over the crystal, filling the orb with a dense fog. I leaned forward to catch a better look.

The fog in the center shimmered away and revealed a great body of water. Waves crashed violently, and lightening crashed through the sky above it. A village built on planks shifted with the tides, and people waded through the waters to move from one part of the city to the next.

Undeterred by the torrential downpour, the residents, young and old, were all hard at work. They appeared quite used to the conditions. Their lips were chapped and their skin covered in a thick crust of salt from exposure to the ocean. Tattered and torn clothing provided little protection for them.

In the center of it all, rising up from the ocean, was an enormous silver trident the size of the entire settlement. It was surrounded by a wooden deck similar to what the rest of the city rested on, but this one was not at the mercy of the water underneath it. Something held it firmly in place, magic no doubt. If I looked close enough, I could see small windows every now and again on its surface. This was a castle clearly built for a powerful ruler.

Behind the castle, perched on the platforms, rested a beautiful marble fountain depicting a mermaid playfully spouting water from her mouth. It was the only sprout of joy in this village, and it had been fenced off, hidden from view.

I didn't see the goddess open her eyes, but her lips turned downward just as mine had, and I knew she had seen the vision just as clearly as we had. She fluttered her lashes open, and the image in the crystal vanished.

"Poseidon is the one responsible," she said softly, looking directly at me.

My blood ran cold. She was saying that my father was the one who had put up the barrier, and I couldn't shake the feeling that she knew exactly who he was to me. Dread bubbled in my gut. She could expose me and ruin everything, and given her history with my family, I had little doubt she would be thrilled at the opportunity.

If memory of my studies served me, Athena was the one who had placed the curse on my mother after catching word of Poseidon's violation. It had happened right here in her temple. I didn't know that I could ever understand her reasoning, and looking at her now, I wanted to beg her for an explanation.

A woman was raped in her jurisdiction, and her idea of justice was to condemn the victim. As far as I was concerned, she was no better than Poseidon himself. My fear dissolved into outrage, in the way that had become customary for my internal survival. At this moment, I wanted nothing more than to leap across the table and tear her to pieces.

"Poseidon," Nikkias shuddered. "What an abominable creature."

Homer nodded stupidly in response. "You would have to be a lunatic to pick a fight with that one."

"Why would he have sealed the cave?" Hercules rubbed his chin.

"I recall him saying he wanted to visit Medusa's body after she was beheaded," Athena said. "He said he wanted to pay his respects."

I covered my own mouth and bit my finger to distract myself from responding. He had no respect to show her.

"He must have discovered that she had regenerated," Perseus observed. "The Fates told us only those who are deemed worthy may enter."

"Perseus, you have had the displeasure of knowing Poseidon as well as I have," Athena frowned. "I do not think he would deem any man worthy of breaking through his magic."

"There must be a way." Perseus dropped his head into his hand and rubbed his eyes.

"The fountain," I gasped and turned to Athena. "In your vision, did you see it?"

"Yes, yes, I saw it."

"He had it quarantined off. Surely there is a reason."

"There is," she agreed. "None may enter his castle unless they have taken a drink from the fountain. It's to safeguard himself from his enemies."

"The water acts as an antidote to the magical barrier of his castle," Hercules exclaimed. "Remember, sister, when we were taken there as children, we were allowed to drink from it so as to visit him? Do you not recall the plaque in front of it?"

The goddess thought hard, but it was Perseus who answered. "It said _The Fountain of Worth_!"

I was not given the chance to ask Perseus how he knew this before Athena reacted.

"That's right! It stands to reason that he used the same barrier spell to mark off the cave. That must be the answer. You will need to drink from the fountain."

"But how are we to get to Atlantis to drink from it?" Perseus was brainstorming.

"Perhaps the goddess would be so kind as to simply ask Poseidon to transport us," Homer suggested. "The request could be in the guise of a friendly visit."

"He won't," Hercules explained. "We have had our disagreements, and ties have been severed. The only reason for us to visit would be to declare war at this point."

"You can take Pegasus," Athena offered.

"What is a Pegasus?" Perseus arched his brow.

"Do you recall the white winged horse you retrieved from Medusa's womb just after the infant?" The goddess ever so subtly darted her eyes in my direction and then away again. She knew, but for reasons that were her own, she was not telling just yet.

Perseus leaned back in his chair and laughed. "Athena, you softhearted mule. You kept the thing, didn't you?"

She blushed. "He is not a thing; he is a glorious beauty of the air. Not all four of you will fit on him, of course. Two of you should, though."

"All right," Perseus nodded. "Nikkias and I will make a special visit to Atlantis."

"No!" I intervened. "No, I want to go with you, Perseus."

"Ambrosia, be reasonable."

I shook my head in defiance. Poseidon was my father, and I needed to steal something precious from him the way he had stolen my mother from me. And if I should have the opportunity to face him directly, well, that would make it even better.

"She won't back down from her decision." Hercules smiled. "One thing you will learn about my Ambrosia is that once her mind is made up, there is no changing it."

" _Your_ Ambrosia?" Perseus challenged. "I believe she is traveling with us."

"Only for the time being. She knows where her home is."

"Yes, I'm sure she is eager to get back to work selling her honor for your fortune."

"Gentlemen, please!" My entire body heated with embarrassment. I would admit, though, there was something satisfying about two dashing demigods vying for the right to call me their own.

"All right. Ambrosia and I will travel to Atlantis _alone."_ He emphasized the point while smirking at Hercules. "We will return with enough water for the four of us to drink."

"Make that five," Hercules commanded. "I won't stand by and let you botch this up once more."

Perseus gritted his perfect teeth, and I cringed at the damage he could cause them if he didn't drop the habit.

"I will see what I can do."

The goddess giggled. "Well, now that we have a plan, we should probably tend to the mortals' need for nourishment, and then you should rest before your journey. I have many extra rooms, as you can imagine. You are all welcome to use one while you are here."

"That is very kind of you," I said.

She set her elbows on top of the table and rested her chin on her hands, smiling at Nikkias and Homer. "So, while we eat, why don't you handsome men tell me what it has been like serving with my brother? Perseus and I see so little of each other these days, I'm curious about his life in the mortal realm."

Nikkias and Homer went on to tell her about some of the grand adventures Perseus had led them through, and I sat chewing on my thumb, silently piecing things together.

The goddess Athena had just unintentionally put the final piece of the puzzle together for me. Well, a large chunk of it anyway. Perseus was Athena's brother. He was indeed a demigod, and that was why I couldn't read him. But Athena was also Hercules' sister. Which meant...

I jerked my head to look at Perseus. "Hercules is your brother?"

# Chapter 10

I spent the next hour demanding the dots be connected. Hercules, Perseus, and Athena all had different mothers, but they shared a common father. Zeus.

This explained the rather unfriendly competition between the two brothers. They had likely spent their lives competing for their father's approval in hopes of honoring of their mother. Without a common mother to sooth their quarrels, they had come to know each other as opponents.

After being served some rather interesting green soup that tasted of ground mint and parsley, the men had been shown to the rooms they would call their own until we had what we needed from Poseidon.

The goddess had asked me to stay behind to take a walk along the moat with her, and I reluctantly complied. My small dagger rested firmly in my bosom, but it wouldn't serve me well against an immortal.

I tried to distance myself from her, but the goddess had no notion of boundaries and swiftly locked her arm through mine. She led me along the cyan sand as if we were old friends. I twiddled with my hair, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the closeness between us.

She clung to my arm as if she was afraid that if she loosened it, I might run away. I must admit, the thought had crossed my mind.

"Do you like the castle?" She offered a sweet smile. "I had it especially made."

"Yes." I smiled. "I imagine glass castles do not have a standard design."

"Do you know why I chose to make it glass, Ambrosia?"

I shook my head. I had been wondering why she would choose such a difficult material; it couldn't have been easy to mold into such detail.

"I like transparency." She stopped to face me. "I want everyone in my kingdom to feel comfortable with having me at the helm. They should know who I truly am, not just the pleasant side of me. And they should know if I am plotting something."

I was taken off-guard by the directness of her statement. Without telling me, she was indeed saying she knew I had a motive for traveling with Perseus. She knew who I was, but she seemed to be asking that I reveal the rest of my story before condemning me.

"That's very noble of you," I said. "Somehow, I don't think this conversation has much to do with your castle, however."

Her mouth curled into a half-smile. "You're a very perceptive young lady. I wonder, are you perceptive enough to have noticed the ache in my brother's heart?"

I was unsure of which brother she spoke, but I imagined I had seen hurt in both of them. Hercules was a demigod who ran a brothel instead of a kingdom, and that was what I had attributed his unhappiness to, his disappointment in himself. And Perseus, well, he was still in deep mourning for the loss of his wife.

"Of course, I have."

"Do you know what I told Perseus when he told me he had taken a child from Medusa's womb?"

The swift change in topic threw me, and tears began to swell in my eyes. She didn't have the right to speak of me as a child. She was no one to me; she didn't have the right to make me feel like I still was one.

Despite my best efforts to hide it, she saw a single tear that escaped down my cheek, and to my surprise, she pulled me in, wrapping her arms around my shoulders in a maternal embrace.

"I told him if that little girl was anything like her mother, she would find him one day," she whispered. "I told him she would make him pay for what he had done, and I told him that he would deserve her wrath."

I took in a sharp breath and pulled away. I needed to see her face. I had to know that she was not the enemy she should be. I searched her eyes in a desperate attempt to find some sign of deceit. It was nothing more than a habit. I knew, since she was not a mortal, I would find nothing, but I had to try. _Nothing_. I had no indication one way or the other, and I could have nearly collapsed with defeat.

I wanted to trust her. In truth, I had gone so long without believing in anyone that I could have jumped at the opportunity to have someone, anyone, to open up to. I had so many conflicting feelings for Perseus that I just needed to talk through. It was much more than attraction, and I couldn't keep myself from letting it build. If I had someone to discuss it all with, I was sure my logical side would come back to the fight and knock some sense into my stupid heart.

I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out were sobs, and she held me again. My only hope was that she could see the damage being done from the feud between my mind and my heart, that she could only imagine the shredding pain it caused me. If she could feel the struggle through my shudders, she was sure to see that what started as a desire for vengeance had somehow spiraled into a burning need for her brother's heart.

She pulled me down to sit with her on the sand and brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. "I won't tell him. You have my word."

"Why?" I had to know why she was being so kind. "Why would you not expose me for the snake that I am?"

"It's like I have said. I believe he deserves your fury. But before you give it to him, there is something you should know."

I sat up on my knees and listened intently.

"If you have heard the stories, you think he took her head for gold."

"That's what has been said, yes. He gave you her head to use as a weapon. I've only just learned that part."

"He did give me her head," she confirmed with a guilty expression. "But only after he used its power for a far more noble purpose."

I begged her with my eyes to continue, to give me a reason not to hate the man I did not have the strength to refuse.

"He needed to use its magic to save the two people he loved most from two different but equally wretched fates. The first was his wife, Princess Andromeda. She had been captured by Poseidon and chained up to feed a sea monster. She was to be sacrificed to keep the beast at bay. Perseus used your mother's head to turn the monster to stone. It's because of him that no other women are being sacrificed."

"My father certainly has a habit out of making women into victims," I seethed.

"He does." She nodded. "Perseus then took it to Seriphos, where his mother was being held as an unwilling mistress by King Polydectes because she refused to marry him. He needed it to free her, Ambrosia. He needed to sacrifice your mother to save his own. I know it doesn't seem fair to you, but try to see it from his end."

I did try, and if there was anything in the world I could relate to, it was the unwavering determination to save one's mother from a dreadful fate. I'd had made it my life to accomplish the very same thing. And I could only imagine if I had a husband, I would have done the same as Perseus had for his wife. I couldn't hate him for what he did, but it was not enough.

The stark reality was that our destinies were at war with one another. His was to murder Medusa, and mine was to rescue her. No matter how much I wanted him, I couldn't convince myself that any love we could have would be strong enough alone to alter Fate's course.

"I understand." I let my shoulders fall in defeat. "He had to save his family in the way I have to save mine."

"Which is why I do not blame you for your position. I only thought you might like to know the motives behind your enemy."

"His motives do not concern me." My tone was unconvincing, even to myself and my lips trembled at the strain of the lie. "But there is something I do need to know."

"You want to know why." She looked at her hands in shame.

"Yes," I blurted out. "I need to know why you did this to her. Why you did this to me."

"I know that you can't see it, Ambrosia. But I didn't do this _to_ her. I did this _for_ her."

"In the way of a favor?" I snorted. "I don't see how you can claim to have done her any kindness by what you have done."

"That's because you weren't there. Your mother was as beautiful as you are. Her hair just as similar to the sun, her lips just as ruby." She reached up and again stroked a strand of my hair. "Poseidon was not blind, and he had no self-control. Just as Perseus' mother refused to marry the king, your mother refused Poseidon. She had another man she loved, but Poseidon wouldn't accept her decision. When I found out what he had done to her, I was mortified. But he is much more powerful than I am. I knew I couldn't protect her from him."

"So you changed her."

"Yes. I changed her. I knew he would no longer be a threat to her if she lost her beauty."

"I don't understand," I protested. "If he was no longer a threat, then why was she banished to the cave?"

"That was not my doing. When Poseidon saw what I had done, he said he couldn't risk people thinking he had been intimate with such a monster. So he banished her. But he was also a very jealous man, and he wouldn't let another have what he couldn't. So he cursed her with turning men to stone."

I was lost. I had spent so long being angry with her, hating her even. Being angry was the only thing I had ever really committed to, my survival had always depended on it. I didn't know if I could shut that off; it had become a reflex. But I knew she deserved for me to try.

I forced a weak smile. "Forgive me. I'm trying to absorb this all. It's a lot to take in at once."

"Oh, darling," she laughed. "Don't try to understand it all at once. Your head will turn into a puddle."

The truth in it made me chuckle. "I would say that sounds like exactly how it feels."

"You know, your mother was quite fond of Hercules as well," she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"What?" I shrieked and swatted at the air between us. "I absolutely do not have eyes for Hercules."

"Well, he certainly pines for you!"

I shook my head hard. "No, Goddess, I'm afraid you're gravely mistaken. I have been his employee, nothing more."

"Is that so?" She flashed her bright smile. "Well, then, why is he coming down here looking for you?" She gazed toward the castle.

She briefly said hello to her brother and excused herself. I may not have an example of what a family should be, but it seemed to me that these three made a strange one. They were comfortable with long absences spanning over twenty years, and if they did not treat each other as rivals they acted as strangers. The goddess was friendlier to me, her brother's assassin, than either of them.

Hercules approached me with caution, as if trying to find the best course of leaping into the lion's den. He was not wearing the armor he usually did. In fact, this was the first time I had seen him without it. The exaggerated metal traced the outline of a perfectly sculpted god, but the man in front of me was much smaller. With it missing, I was exposed to a side of him I hadn't known was there, a fragile, almost human quality.

"Are you still angry with me?" His voice was soft and hesitant.

"I should be," I pouted, pursing my bottom lip. "You struck me, Hercules."

"I did. And I'm sorry for it."

"I'm certain you are." I crossed my arms and turned my back to him to gaze over the moat. A tiny silver sliver of the moon provided little light to reflect from the surface, but I pretended to watch it dance just the same.

He came up behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder, breathing into my ear the way he had done so many times before outside the tavern. And just like then, I moved my hair to the side to accommodate his advance.

"You were always my favorite wench, you know that, don't you?"

"I was your favorite because I brought in the most gold," I snapped. "Don't pretend to care for me beyond that."

He took hold of my wrist and jerked me around to face him. "You have always been more to me than my worker. You can't pretend we have nothing more between us."

"Hercules, I—"

My protest was cut short when he cupped my face in his hands and brought his mouth down hard onto mine.

# Chapter 11

My body stiffened. My blood raced through my body too chaotically for me to react. I would never have refused Hercules before; at some point, I would even have enjoyed his company. But now all I could think about was Perseus and what he might think of our intimacy. The thought of Perseus touching me turned my stomach to knots with dread, but it terrified me even more to think he wouldn't want me.

I swiftly moved my palms up between us and pushed Hercules away. "Hercules, what is this? In all the time we have known each other, you have never mentioned wanting me."

He coolly brushed his hands through his hair and rubbed at his neck. "I don't know, Ambrosia. I have always wanted you, but there was that boundary we couldn't cross. But things are different now, aren't they?"

"How are they different?"

"You are no longer my wench," he said matter-of-factly. "The line is no longer drawn in the sand."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and cursed. The last thing that I needed was more complication. How could he possibly think that I could want a man who had sold me into the arms of countless drunkards?

I brought my hand to my cheek and pressed where his palm had struck me just days ago. I could forgive him for his moral indiscretion, for selling me as easily as a farmer would sell a sheep. I could forgive this because it was my choice. But I couldn't pretend his assault had never happened. I had my own boundaries to consider.

Still, I had to admit a romance with Hercules would be far less problematic than one with his brother. And looking at him now, staring at me with such hope and expectation, made my heart swell. I had grown to love him in a way, and rejecting him would sting me as badly as it would him.

"I don't know, Hercules." I backed away from him. "I have a lot of things I need to think about. We have a very...complicated history."

His smile did not fade. "I understand. May I walk you to your room at least?" Somebody would have to show me where to sleep. I could see no harm in allowing him to be my escort.

"That would be fine."

I draped my arm into his, and as we walked, he pointed out the various perfectly sculpted glass statues in the castle. We came to one of my father, and I wanted to scoot past it, but it was Hercules' favorite.

Even the lifeless, inanimate mimicry of Poseidon was cold and emanated cruelty. I didn't listen as Hercules spoke of what a great and powerful god he was. The thought that anyone could speak of such a monster with such admiration made me sick for the entire race of us.

It was strange to admit to myself that I was one of them. The tyrant Poseidon was my father, and that made me as much of a demigod as Hercules. My father had the power of the sea, and I had the power of the mortal soul. I was a sorry match for him on parchment, but given the chance, I would happily give him a run for his gold.

Finally, we made it to the door he said was mine.

"You will be leaving early I expect," Hercules said in a low, suggestive tone.

I leaned my back against the door, keeping my hand firmly on the knob just in case I required a quick escape.

"I should hope so." I pretended to yawn. "Atlantis is quite a distance, even for one riding on a flying horse."

"Well." He came closer. "How about a kiss for luck on your journey?"

"Hercules..."

The door bearing my weight swung open, and I fell back. Bracing for an unpleasant impact for my rear end, I was surprised to find myself instead against a mass as sturdy as the door itself.

Perseus was the object I had collided with, and he held me up until I regained my balance. Once I was firmly on my feet again, he leaned his arm against the entryway, scowling at my gentleman caller.

"You two are out late," he barked, and I jumped at the bitterness in his voice.

"We were just having a stroll." Hercules winked at me.

I could feel the air around Perseus darken. If I wanted to respect Athena's home, I knew I would need to interrupt the rivalry before it came to a full-blown war. They were not prepared to take her hospitality into account and subdue their tempers.

"Hercules." I put myself between them. "I think that you should go."

"Good night, Hercules," Perseus said patronizingly.

"Think about what I said." Hercules feigned a smile but did not budge.

"Good night, Hercules," Perseus repeated, this time with more force in his words.

Hercules looked to me to come to his aid, and when I didn't, he hunched his shoulders in defeat. His retreat was slow and wounded, and Perseus looked on victoriously.

I turned to scold him for being so rude, but before I could, he snatched my elbow and dragged me into the other room. The door slammed shut behind me, and I winced, hoping the sound did not wake any of the others.

"What in Hades is wrong with you?" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down.

"You," he growled. "Tramping around with my brother alone at night!"

"Why should anything I do with your brother concern you at all?"

I managed to pull my arm away, but he pivoted on his heels and came at me with wild, dangerous eyes. I retreated to a corner, and he pinned me in. With one arm on each side of my head, he leaned in and pressed himself against me.

"For the love of Zeus, Ambrosia. Don't you see what you do to me? I can't handle the thought of you with anyone—least of all that spoiled, sniveling excuse for a demigod."

His words came out as a desperate plea. I fought hard against them, but I couldn't ignore the fire they lit in my heart. _How did it come to this?_ He was supposed to have met the sharp side of my blade by now. Everything had spun horribly, horribly off-path, and it was too late to regain control.

My heart thumped so strong that it caused a pain in my chest. His breathing was so chaotic and unbridled, it was all I could focus on. His lips hovered over mine, and I wanted to reach up to bring them down to me, but I didn't dare.

He smiled the same forbidding smile he had shown me the night we first met. I melted in place, my knees nearly giving out at the sight of it. I had never seen a man as tempting as the one here in front of me.

"He can't have you, Ambrosia. You are mine." He lowered his lips down onto mine, forcing me to breathe in his groans.

Any small restraint I had left was gone. My body trembled under his hands. I tried to gasp when he finally pulled away, but the air caught in my throat as his mouth trailed it with rough, lingering kisses.

In one swift motion, he ripped open my tunic, my one and only tunic. I moaned in anguish at his urgency, the sinfulness of it only adding to how good it felt to finally give in to this. I ran my fingers through his hair as he made his way to tease my breasts with his tongue. My legs seemed to liquefy, losing their strength as I collapsed at the intensity of his seduction.

I closed my eyes, dizzy with pleasure, and wrapped my legs around him for stability. The room circled me as he spun us around and found the bed. I pulled at his shirt as he gently placed me on the soft sheets.

He straddled my naked, exposed body, and I stared up at him. He was a beautiful, sensuous specimen of a demigod. There was no room to contemplate what would become of us tomorrow; my need to have him right now fogged any possibility of foresight.

I made quick work of his trousers, and once they were removed I parted my legs, inviting him in. Perseus lowered himself onto me but hesitated.

"Are you certain of this?"

"Of course I am," I moaned impatiently.

When he still did not move, I opened my eyes and saw the torment building inside of him. His jaw was tight, and he was biting back tears.

"Perseus," I said gently. "What's the matter?"

"I'm sorry." He wiped the beads of sweat on his brow but did not continue.

Instead, he pulled himself to sitting and reclaimed his pants. I sat up and wrapped myself in my tunic. For the first time that I could recall, I felt self-conscious and unworthy of a man's affection. Twice he had me in bed with him, and twice he had rejected me.

"It's because I'm a whore, isn't it?" I asked directly.

His jaw dropped, and he bent down on a knee, clasping my hand between his.

"Ambrosia" He tilted my chin to look at him. "This has nothing at all to do with your past. I do not care that you made your way by my brother's earnings."

"Then what is it?" I found myself shouting. "Am I not up to your aesthetic standards? Am I too hideous for you to imagine being with? Tell me, Perseus. I need to know. Why don't you want me?"

"It has nothing to do with you! You don't understand."

"Then _help_ me to understand, Perseus."

He hung his head to gather the words, and when he looked at me again, I could swear I saw tears mingling with the perspiration on his cheek.

"You are a vision of her, Ambrosia. You are the living embodiment of my wife."

I was stunned by his explanation. Thinking back to the night I'd fooled him into believing he was talking to her, shame washed over me.

"The first time I saw you in the tavern," he continued. "I could have sworn you were her. And now, part of me feels that I have fallen for you simply because of that."

His admission was a sharp, stinging blow to my pride. Of course, he couldn't love me. He should not love me. I was not worthy of his affection. I was nothing but the spawn of Medusa.

# Chapter 12

For the first time in ages, I woke up alone. One might think a woman who had spent months sharing her bed with countless strangers would be relieved at the change. I was troubled to find that I was suffocated by the empty space next to me. I only let myself linger in the sheets for a moment before I needed to get away from the feeling of emptiness.

But the disheartening dark cloud chased me as I wrapped myself up in the sheets and paced the room. Catching a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror hiding in the corner was sobering. My eyes were glassy and hazed. My spirit was missing from them and had been replaced by throbbing red lines left behind by my night of tearful realization.

My newfound weakness was disgusting and terrifying at once. I tried to think back, to find the point where I had first become so desperately lonely. There was a time when I'd been completely indifferent to any company. The love of a man was the last thing I'd wanted, and I had guarded myself fiercely against it. I had always preferred to be alone.

Well, I supposed that was not completely true. When I was a child, I'd longed for the company of others to play with. I dreamed of escaping the prison of lessons and studies. Instead of learning to sharpen swords, I wished with all of my heart for another person my age to play pirates with using pretend ones.

I mourned for the confident, complete woman I had lost so suddenly. When had I become this lost, dejected little girl all over again?

I pointed a critical stare at my reflection. From the day I'd met Perseus, I had seen the savage destruction love had left him with. It was the kind of pain a shield couldn't protect against. Almost all the men who frequented the tavern wore the same shattered mask, and now, without a choice at all, I wore it, too.

A soft knock at the door disrupted my self-inflicted ridicule. I pulled at the sheets wrapped around me to make sure they were secure, and I smoothed the disheveled strands of hair down into place. The transparent nature of the walls made it simple to read the sun. I could tell it was still very early morning as the fireball had hardly risen at all.

"Yes?" My voice was crackled and shaken.

The door inched open, and I knew without looking it was Perseus from the sheepish way his boots crept across the floor. I turned to face him, determined to not expose the vulnerability he had created inside of me.

His arm was outstretched, offering me a new tunic to wear. He kept his gaze on the floor, refusing to look up at me.

"I thought you might like this," he mumbled to the ground.

My nostrils flared from the heat of my breath. He did not even have the decency to look at me as he spoke. I snatched the clothing from his hand.

"Tell the goddess I am grateful. It's hers, I assume?"

"Yes." His voice was so soft I couldn't even hear it. I only read his lips.

My cheeks burned. All I could think about, now that I was so focused on them, was how my skin dissolved under the graceful dance of his kiss. My fingers brushed the top of my breasts at the memory of his phantom bliss.

_No!_ I screamed at myself. _Do not get caught up in this again._

I cleared my throat, stifling the tears that again stung my eyes. "We should leave. I'll get dressed and be down in a moment."

He bit his lip and hung his head. His stride closed the gap quickly from where he stood to the door, but when he got there, he glanced back at me. My chest constricted from the weight of his gaze, and I wanted so badly to run to him. Fortunately, my body was frozen, too sore from the night of sobbing to use the energy it would take to throw myself into his arms.

"Ambrosia—" He stepped toward me.

I raised my hand to interrupt him. I couldn't hear an apology. I wasn't strong enough yet to refuse him forgiveness. Already, my fingers collapsed into a fist as my heart protested against my unwillingness to hear him out.

"I will only take a minute," I dismissed him.

He nodded again, this time far more solemnly. The door closed behind him, and I let out a sharp exhale, clutching my chest to catch my breath and with any luck, my pride as well.

After I regained myself, I slipped into the dress he'd brought me to wear. It was far more luxurious than I was used to. The soft, pink velvet clung to my skin and made me feel classy and expensive. A breast band was not needed, as my figure was perfectly complimented by the fabric. The bottom of it came to just above the knee. This would come in handy during whatever battle I would face in Atlantis, especially as the floor-length tunics I typically wore compared.

It was vain and perhaps even a bit childish, but the change immediately restored some of the confidence I'd once had in abundance.

I found a thick piece of string, tied my hair up, and braided it to keep it out of the way. The red in my eyes had finally begun to subside, and I was glad for it. The goddess did not need to see I had allowed my emotions to take over once more.

At the bottom of the stairwell, Perseus and Hercules both stood with their arms crossed and faces grim. Discussing battle strategy, no doubt. They at least had some idea of what I was to face upon arrival, which left me feeling a bit envious.

Hercules was the first to see me, and he whistled. Apparently, his sister's clothing suited me well in his eyes. Perseus caught the sudden interest and looked in my direction. His eyes widened.

I couldn't suppress a smug smile, and I decided upon a battle strategy of my own.

"Good morning." I fluttered my lashes at Hercules and hugged him tight.

"Good morning, indeed," he choked.

I let my hand loiter on his forearm, squeezing his lacking bicep and pretending to be utterly impressed. It wasn't fair to him, really. He didn't deserve to be a pawn in this juvenile game I was playing. He was just the easiest and most effective piece to play for the moment.

"Are you ready?" Perseus' voice was cold, and his eyes dug into us both like daggers. I was undeterred.

I exaggerated a sigh and leaned into Hercules. "I suppose. The sooner we leave, the sooner we will return."

The implication was clear, and Perseus rushed ahead of me to lead me to the stable where Pegasus was kept.

"Oh," he shouted over his shoulder. "I thought you might be hungry."

He turned around long enough to throw his bag at me. I opened it while I struggled to match his long stride with my own, much-shorter legs. He had packed me some breakfast for the ride; several fresh blueberry muffins that smelled delicious. A tiny pang of guilt hit my stomach, but I wouldn't let myself digest the feeling.

The stables, to my surprise, were not made of glass as everything else was. They were boring in contrast, a simple wooden frame that housed the horses we'd traveled here on along with many others.

Athena was waiting for us in front of a stall, and when she noticed our approach, she lit up the damp, musty old building with one of her enchanting, animated smiles.

"Ambrosia!" she called to me. "Come look!"

I couldn't help but return her affection, and I hurried to see what had her so excited. Her child-like fever was infectious, and I was eager to see the cause of it.

A great, majestic white steed took a carrot from her flattened palm. His stunning, crystal blue eyes grew as I stepped closer to him, and he clamored about in his space as if he was seeing an old friend again.

I supposed in a way we were old friends. As the story went, Medusa, being at least half-beast herself, birthed two creatures the night she was slayed. There was me, the orphaned demigod. And then there was Pegasus, the one and only winged horse.

By all rights, we were twins. Very strange, genetically impossible twins conceived by pure magic. He seemed to remember me, and I wished very much that I could remember him.

She brought him out and led him to the open field behind the barn. He stretched out his massive wings. He would've gotten stuck if he would have tried to open them inside his tiny pen. I ran my hand along his hide, fascinated by the wondrous creature.

"Just as mutant as I recall," Perseus chimed in.

"He's beautiful." I swatted at him, my turmoil forgotten.

"He remembers you," Athena said gleefully.

"Yes, I can tell." My mouth shut tight too late, and I realized my mistake. Pegasus was not supposed to remember me; he was not supposed to know me.

"I do make quite the impression," Perseus bragged, puffing out his chest.

I rolled my eyes. His arrogance had saved the day. I hoped my relief went unnoticed.

"He is not terribly fast, but he is steady," Athena explained. "He should have you to Atlantis by nightfall."

"Have you ever actually ridden him?" Perseus asked.

"Of course, I have. Do you think I would send my brother across the ocean on him if I did not have experience to draw faith from?"

Perseus cocked his head and arched his brow, silently saying he had little doubt that she would. She stuck her tongue out in response, and I giggled.

"Okay," she laughed. "I might send _you_ across the ocean if I was unsure, but not my new friend Ambrosia."

"I have faith in him." I patted Pegasus' nose lightly, and he nuzzled at my touch.

"Before I forget." Athena lifted her dress and revealed a knife held in place by a black, leather garter. She pulled it out and handed it to me. "This is for you."

I held it up into the light and examined it closely. It was transparent and jagged, with a symbol of a snake etched into the flat side. The handle was smooth and slippery. Its craftsmanship was artistic and flawless, but I couldn't imagine it would see much use in battle with such an unpredictable and clumsy grip.

Perseus stood over my shoulder, his mouth hung open. "You're entrusting _her_ with this? She probably doesn't even understand the significance."

"If you find yourself face to face with Poseidon, your fate is only death," Athena argued. "If she does..."

Her voice trailed, but what remained unspoken seemed to generate understanding in Perseus. He took a step back and nodded, now agreeing with her decision.

"What is it?" I asked docilely.

"That is the Blade of The Serpent. It's the only known weapon in existence that could kill an immortal."

"You mean I can kill him with this?"

The goddess slowly nodded. "But please, Ambrosia. Only use it if you must."

Her face told me more than her words did. I knew she was not only referring to Poseidon, but to her brother as well. It was her last and only plea for his life.

"Of course," I promised. Turning away from them, I pulled the knife I usually kept from my bosom and tossed it to Perseus, replacing it with my new gift. "You can use mine."

"This thing is too small," he snorted. "It may do me some good if we were hunting rodents."

Leave it to a man to be concerned only with the size of his weapon.

"Then leave it, Perseus," I whined back at him in annoyance.

He tucked it away in his bag and held out a hand to help me up onto the horse. I spared one last meek smile to Athena and climbed up on my own, declining any assistance from him. Once he was also aboard, he planted himself in front of me, taking hold of the reins.

"I hope you don't mind." He looked over his shoulder at me with a wicked grin. "But you'll have to hold on tight, or you may tumble off."

I gritted my teeth. "I would almost rather take my chances."

My defiance was short lived, however. When Pegasus moved his wings, the breeze alone could have been enough to throw me from him. With nothing else to hold on to, I gave in and gripped Perseus' torso, trying to ignore the ripples from the muscles in his stomach.

Pegasus lifted his legs from the earth and my stomach soared with him. I laughed at the new sensation. The world beneath us grew smaller, and I could no longer even see the kingdom where we had only just stood. Instead we sliced through the clouds as easily as clotted cream. We were no longer tied to the soil or rules that governed it, we were flying above it all. The freedom was intoxicating.

# Chapter 13

Once the excitement wore off, I found myself drifting. My eyelids grew heavier until I could no longer fight to keep them open. I only woke up when a powerful thud shook me. We had landed on the planks of Atlantis. The chill of the sea air was unmistakable; even to someone who had never felt it, the salty breeze was easily recognized.

I blinked away the fog of sleep and looked around. It was dark. The kind of soul-curling dark that made you wonder who was watching from just a few feet away. Not a single torch was lit in the city.

"Hey." Perseus' fingers brushed my cheek as he whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," I answered, feeling my way to find him. "But I can't see you."

"Your eyes will adjust. Don't move until we're sure no one heard us land."

We listened for a long, taut moment. Pegasus' breathing was heavy and worn. He was exhausted, the poor horse. We hadn't thought about his stamina, and if he would have enough to carry us here and back at once.

Against Perseus' wishes, I climbed down and opened the satchel that hung from the saddle. My eyes had at least begun to adjust to the darkness. I could make out shadows and figures, and since none of them seemed to be coming at us, I decided to take my chances and feed my brother.

I placed an armful of vegetables on the ground in front of him, and he was glad to devour my offering.

"What are you doing?" Perseus breathed. "His chewing is too loud!"

"He has to rest, Perseus!" I hissed. "He will never be able to carry us back if he is starving."

He sighed heavily as he dismounted, glaring at my defiance.

The back of the castle was becoming clear through the night. I was sure even Perseus would have preferred to land elsewhere, but there were no platform paths leading to the palace. We would have had to swim across, and our splashing would be just as likely to alert someone. Plus this way, Pegasus wouldn't have to compensate for the waves that barreled into the other platforms.

If the vision in the crystal was to serve as guide, the gated fountain should be nearby. I moved quietly in one direction and Perseus in another. I moved closer to the trident's wall and pressed my hand against it.

The surface was fluid but binding, and my hand could go through it if I allowed it. I pulled my hand out again, remembering what the siblings had said about the castle. If you had not drunk from the fountain, you would die if you entered. Droplets of a warm, silver liquid fell from my fingertips.

"It's mercury."

The voice came from behind me. I flinched and drew my dagger.

"Good Zeus, Perseus." I breathed out when I realized it was him. "You scared me to death. You were supposed to be looking over there." I pointed across the platform with the tip of my knife.

"There's nothing over there but water." He brushed my armed hand away from him, his expression sardonic. "Would you mind not pointing that so close to my face? You're far too unpredictable for me to be comfortable with that."

" _I'm_ unpredictable?" I squeaked. "Anything I could do with this dagger would be completely justified after what you did to me last night."

At first, he only arched a brow at my outburst, but his expression quickly softened. He squeezed both of my shoulders in his hands and opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again, pulling me against his chest. He tangled his fingers in my hair and kissed the top of my head.

"I know," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Just stop." I pushed against him, but he only held me tighter.

My body stiffened, and I balled my fists between us, still clutching the knife. I begged myself not to allow my arms to close around him. My neck grew hot from the effort, but somehow, I maintained the strength to keep him from pulling my heart back in his favor.

Part of me dreaded him pulling away, and when he finally did, that same part cursed me. I knew he was hurting, and I wanted to empathize with him, but I couldn't see past my own wounded pride. It was selfish and egotistical, but in my world, that was how I survived.

He cupped my neck in one hand and used the other to tilt my chin up to him. My lips parted instinctively the instant I locked onto his blue eyes, and I knew that this was a war I couldn't win. And he knew it, too.

His lips had barely grazed mine when I was rescued by something splashing in the water. The sound brought Perseus back to the true moment we were in, and he reached to unsheathe his sword from its scabbard. He drew it out so quickly he nearly fell over.

"We're on the ocean," I laughed. "Things splash in the ocean. Fish, whales, dolphins. Heavens, Perseus. Even given our location, you are far too jumpy."

"There are far more fearsome creatures in the ocean than you've ever dreamed of." His eyes were hard and full of fear.

I remembered what Athena told me about his wife. She had been rescued from a terrible sea monster; perhaps he feared that more were lurking beneath the surface. I intertwined my fingers with his, hoping the gesture would ease his nerves even a little.

"That may be so. But Perseus, they're in the water, and we're up here. Any creatures that may be down there haven't destroyed Atlantis yet, so they're not likely to make tonight the time to change that just because you're here."

He jerked his hand away. My attempt to sooth him had backfired, and he was offended at the gesture.

"Don't speak to me like a child," he snapped. "You don't have any idea what things I've seen."

"What happened to her, Perseus?" I stepped back, out of swinging range. I didn't think he would hurt me, but I knew my question would hit him like a burning coal.

His jaw clenched at my audacity, and he turned to storm away, but I followed on his heel. He could hate me for my prying, but there was something in his heart that plagued him even more than the things that haunted mine. A darkness surrounded him unlike any I had ever seen, and even the great Perseus couldn't hide it.

"In Athena's castle," I followed after him, "you expected her to know why we came because of something to do with Princess Andromeda's death. Why should they have been connected? Perseus, what are you so afraid of?"

He swung around sharply, full of anger so apparent I could have called it hatred. "You won't speak her name! She was far too pure to be spoken of at all from the mouth of a harlot."

I instantly recoiled. His words were so bitter, so corrosive, they ate straight through my skin and penetrated my soul. He had reminded me why I'd kept my distance from all that I encountered. I showed him concern, and a barrel of poison was my payment.

I couldn't even find words heavy enough to hurl back at him. I clenched my fist around the grip of the blade in my hand and contemplated charging at him with it. The only thing stopping me was my insinuated promise to the goddess, and he was a lucky bastard for it.

This time, it was me who stormed away. I brushed past him, running my shoulder into his, secretly hoping it would be hard enough to knock him off the plank we stood on. I was disappointed when I heard his footsteps behind me instead of the sound of him drowning.

The high gate surrounding the fountain came into view just in time to distract me from the hysteria building in my chest. I pushed against the foundation. It was built solid. I suppose that was a good thing, if it had come crashing down, we would have all been as good as dead. I should have thought of that before pushing on the wall. It was a stupid mistake, and I didn't make stupid mistakes. I needed to focus.

I circled around it but found no door, no way of entering inside. As I returned to where I started, Perseus was looking at it, just as perplexed as I was.

"How do we get in?" I shrugged. "There's no door."

"I'm not sure," He scratched his head.

"What do you mean? You've been here before. You said you drank from the fountain as a child."

"This wall was not here then. He must have put it up after our...falling out."

I wished he would stop feeling the need to speak so cryptically. He had no idea that I knew the history between Poseidon and Princess Andr—his wife. If the goddess hadn't been so kind to me, I would've loved to have seen the look on his face if I were to tell him I knew so much more than he was willing to tell me. I had betrayed so many people in my time that I had begun to think of myself of something of an expert in the field. But I liked Athena enough to make her the exception. I would keep her confidence.

I gazed up to the top of the wall. It did not seem so high, maybe two feet taller than Perseus.

"Do you think we can scale it?" I eyed the barrier, contemplating my agility.

"I can," he mused. "But you are not tall enough."

"That's why you will lift me up, you fool."

He nodded, seeming to be impressed by my simple logic. He really wasn't the most intelligent man I had run across. Or the kindest, I reasoned. I really was dodging an arrow by being rid of him.

Perseus handed me the small bag he had thrown at me earlier, still filled with muffins I now refused to eat. I slung it over my shoulder, and he bent down on his knee. With my foot placed firmly on his knee and my hand on his shoulder for balance, he hoisted me up. In one swift motion, I moved my leg over the top and dangled from the other side.

It wasn't until I was hanging there that I realized I had made another grave mistake by not looking before I put myself in this irreversible predicament. The fountain was directly under my feet.

"I'm coming over," Perseus announced.

"No!" I shouted much too loudly. "Perseus, move around to the opposite wall. There isn't enough room here. You'll land right on top of me."

My fingers burned. I couldn't hold on until he made his way around and then over the fence. I was going to have to trust my clumsy feet enough to balance on the rim, which was very thin. My fingertips gave out before I had planned to let go, and I gasped when my toes made impact with the marble. Surprisingly, I landed perfectly.

Gingerly climbing down from the fountain, I hit the ground the same time as Perseus did.

"You would make a terrible spy," he smirked. "You're far too noisy."

"Not as noisy as you would have been if you had crashed us both into that water."

I pulled the canteen from his bag and leaned over to fill it. The mermaid in the center was just as fun as it was in the vision. The naked, busty human torso was thin and attractive, and her mouth was puckered as if to whistle. The water didn't flow from her lips, though, as it had inside the crystal. Perhaps it only did so during the day.

I handed the full canteen to Perseus and suddenly I realized I was horribly sore. My back ached from our ride, and my arms burned from my climb over the gate. I _would_ make a bad spy. I wasn't cut out for this much travel or excitement.

I leaned against the side of the fountain. "I just need to rest a minute before I will be able jump over again."

"One might think you were in better shape, given your profession."

It was meant to be funny, but given his earlier comment, it came off as cruel. I scowled at him, and he looked at his foot and kicked the dirt.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm certain you are, Perseus." I shook my head.

"Honestly, I—"

His eyes grew wide, and his mouth opened long. He lunged for me, and I turned just in time to see a creature leaping from the water behind me.

It was a disgusting, mutated version of the statue in the center. Half-human and half-fish, with deathly sharp teeth and beady black eyes darker than the starless night above us. Its skin was pale white, and the scales on the tail it flailed about were a hazy blue marred by battle scars.

Dirty, jagged nails knotted into my hair and pulled me in before Perseus could reach me. I choked out a mouth full of water and fought against the creature's attempts to pull me under. I was never a strong swimmer, and her webbed tail was much better suited for the water than my legs were. I barely got my head above water when she pulled me under the surface once more. I screamed into the water, releasing all the air from my lungs.

Perseus stood above me, his warped face shouting into the water. My chest screamed for oxygen, and I couldn't hold the reflex back any longer. One sharp inhalation, and my chest filled with liquid that burned my insides. I coughed and breathed in again before the pain grew so awful that only darkness could rescue me.

# Chapter 14

A musty, moldy smell filled my nostrils, and I willed my eyes to open. The effort it took and the pain that came from it was dreadfully unreal. I was in a dark, cold cavern, laying on top of a single concrete island that was barely large enough even for my small frame. All sides were surrounded by water reaching to the rock walls that housed me in completely. There was no way out.

I moaned in anguish as I sat up. My head was pounding, and my body trembled from the pain that surged through it from head to feet. I coughed violently, the taste of my own blood filling my mouth, and I spit crimson into the water at my side.

"Perseus!" I called out into the small room with my diminished, shaking voice, knowing I wouldn't get an answer.

I was trapped here alone, freezing cold, and terrified. Icy panic ran through my veins. Water dripped from stalactites above me, and the rhythmic sound was enough to drive me mad. I peered through the darkness that was reduced by a soft glow in the water below me. There had to be a way out if I'd gotten in, I reasoned.

There were no openings in the walls, nothing I could squeeze through anyway. The stone ceiling was firm, and I saw no holes in it. Even if I could manage to climb up, there was nowhere to go.

I turned my attention downward. The siren had pulled me in from the well. It had used an underwater tunnel. The light inexplicably emanating from the sea floor made it easy to see the opening. If I was going to escape, I would need to get back in the water.

A chill ran down my spine. The thought was enough to turn my stomach into knots. To go back into the water was reckless. I had no way of knowing what dangers awaited me in the tunnels or how long it would be until I found the surface to breathe again. Recalling the earlier fire in my lungs, the possibility of inviting water back in again was too much to bear.

But I had no choice. I could either stay here and wait for whatever was coming, or go straight to the danger on my own terms.

If whatever was out there wanted me dead, I would be by now, I tried to convince myself.

No, I shook my head. I couldn't let my fear outweigh my common sense. That creature was probably working for Poseidon, doing his bidding.

Suddenly, bubbles formed in the water and made their way up to the surface. I leaned in closer, close enough to see three sirens swimming in to surround my safe haven. I plunged my hand into my cleavage and was instantly comforted by the smooth grip of my knife.

One of them poked its head up to the surface, letting out a loud, high-pitched, blood-curdling scream in my direction. Acting on instinct, I slapped my hands over my ears, feeling the tip of the blade graze across the skin of my cheek. I ignored the warm fluid that dripped down my chin and squeezed my eyes shut until the intolerable noise finally stopped.

When it ultimately did, I opened my eyes again and let my hands fall. The creature was staring at me, its head cocked to the side in study. She was a vile looking thing; thin, gray hair was distributed randomly on her otherwise-bald head. Her lips were curled back, revealing the razors inside her mouth. I couldn't suppress a shudder when the other two sirens came up next to her. They were just as hideous.

I didn't move until one of them reached for me. I kicked at it with my now-naked feet. My shoes must have slipped off in the water. The thing smiled at my fear, and the other three joined in. It was a game to them: who could torment the frightened mortal the most?

I sat up on my knees and leaned over the aquatic mutants, my blade in both hands high above me ready to bring the tip down in to the next hand that came too close.

"That's enough!" A deep, boisterous voice echoed off the cave walls.

I didn't need to look behind me to see who the voice came from. The fright that swept across the sirens' faces was enough to tell me it was not Perseus. Only one other man would have business under this trident.

I replaced the knife into its sheath between my breasts, hoping he wouldn't notice. He was equivalent to a sorcerer, if legend told it correctly, and if he recognized the danger, he would set me ablaze before I could get close enough to use the weapon. It was better to wait until I had him at a closer range.

I turned around and was met with little surprise when I saw the mighty Poseidon.

He was as intimidating as I had been told. His body was huge, and his arms were the size of tree trunks. White hair covered his head and connected with a matching beard that masked his entire face.

This was my father. This ruthless, evil man, perched upon a stalagmite in front of me was of my blood—or rather, I was of his. We had a similar nose, I realized. And while its tiny size matched my face well, it looked out of place on his. My heart pounded so loudly it was audible, and he laughed.

"Are you afraid, my dear?" His mouth spread into a maniacal smile.

I lifted my chin up, swallowing the bile that rose in my throat from the terror.

"No," I answered in defiance.

"Well then, you must not know who I am."

"I do. You are Poseidon, god of the sea."

"That's right." He nodded curtly. "I have met very few foolish men who were not afraid of me."

"And now you have met one foolish woman who is not."

He crossed his arms in front of him, annoyed with my arrogance. I matched his stare intensely, refusing to let my mask of bravery fall. If I was to die here, I wouldn't die a coward.

"My..." He tapped his chin with his finger. "You are spirited one. What is your name?"

"Ambrosia."

"Ambrosia. The nectar of the gods."

I rolled my eyes. That line had gotten old my first week working in the brothel. "Yes, yes. But I assure you, I am not nearly as sweet as nectar."

"I can see that." His eyes gleamed with admiration, and he stepped down into the water, but his feet did not sink. He walked on top of it as though it was as firm as the soil. "I do hope my messenger was not too rough. I also hope you can understand that when I notice a trespasser, I must detain her for questioning. Even one as beautiful as you can be dangerous."

"You are indeed very wise to make such an assumption. I happen to know the more beautiful a woman is, the more treacherous she tends to be."

He bellowed a deep and sincere laugh, amused by my honesty. "Then you, lovely Ambrosia, must be the most insidious of them all."

My lips curled into a self-satisfied smile. "Many unfortunate souls have found that to be true."

He came closer to me, so close I had to tilt my chin up to look at him. His hand swept across my cheek, wiping away the blood that stained it.

"You're injured. I was sure to instruct my messengers to use care. You have my apologies."

"They did not do this, I did."

He arched his brow. "Why would you want to sully such a pretty face?"

"It was a mistake, a slip of the knife." I shrugged.

"It's deep." He looked closer. His breath smelled of the sea as it washed over my flesh. "Come with me, we will stitch it up for you."

He turned and strode back across the water to where he stood before. He waved his hand, magically commanding a rock wall to appear.

I hesitated. The Poseidon I had studied would care very little about a scrape on a maiden's cheek. I was certain this was a trap. But looking around, I had little choice. I could stay and brave the bottomless pit below me filled with bloodthirsty sirens, or I could go with him. I knew what to expect from the monster that was Poseidon. And at least on land, I had a chance to defend myself.

"You want me to swim across?" I gestured to the mermaids still waiting for me to slip in.

"Walk." He gave me a knowing look.

Using caution, I set one foot down on the rippling surface. My stomach lurched into my chest, preparing for the sensation of plummeting to the bottom. My calloused heels were moistened by the magical boundary, but I did not sink. Once I was confident I would stay above the water, I darted across, not giving the magic time to wear off.

I followed Poseidon from the cavern without looking back. The bright lights covering the room we stepped into pierced my eyes, and I ducked behind my arm to hide from them. We were inside his trident.

The interior looked just as I had imagined it from the outside. The walls mimicked the color of the steel on a sword, and the décor was a mariner's dream. Halves of broken sunken ships were thrown about, their wheels and anchors used as chandeliers and tributes. It was messy and unkempt. The home of a bachelor god who only cared about displaying his treasures.

A pulsing thud resonated throughout the palace. It took me a moment to place it, but Poseidon's interest in a door to my right confirmed someone was banging to get in. There were no servants running to answer it, Poseidon took that duty upon himself. He changed his direction, grumbling while he swung open the door.

Perseus stood in the doorway, his expression a hybrid of panic and relief. He was out of breath, and perspiration sprinkled his forehead.

"You see, my dear..." Poseidon feigned an innocent smile. "All you had to do was knock."

"I've been banging for an hour!" Perseus growled.

"Yes, well. Forgive me, nephew. I had an intruder detained." He winked at me. "To what do I owe this surprise visit?"

His cordial demeanor still confused me. He seemed polite, delightful even. There was no glimmer of evil in his eye, though I could have sworn I'd seen a hint of malevolence there when we were in the cavern.

I held on to that glimpse with all of my being; it would be far too easy to slip into believing the stories of my father were nothing but myth out of pure wishful thinking.

"Your minion took something of mine." Perseus nodded in my direction, but he didn't make a move otherwise.

My heart fluttered, and my cheeks warmed. There was no truth in his claim, but it affected me just the same. Even after everything.

Poseidon looked to me and then back at Perseus. Something about him transformed in that moment. The air became heavy. His face melted into gritted teeth and jealous, possessive eyes.

"She is mine now," he shouted and slammed the door so hard the walls around us rattled.

"Perseus!" I screamed and dashed for the door the way I should have done the moment he had opened it.

I heard him resume pounding on it, but it was too late. Without a word, Poseidon grabbed me at the waist and threw me over his shoulder. I rained my fists down onto his back and kicked at his chest. He laughed at my attempts to wiggle free and took the blows with grace, seeming to not feel them at all.

He carried me down a hall lined with closed doors. I kicked and screamed with all of my might, but he paid me no mind. He turned a sharp corner and then another, cracking my skull on one corner before stopping in front of an opened set of double doors.

My vision was hazy from the impact, but when once we stepped inside, I could make out a room that was completely empty except for chains that dangled from the wall. He carelessly dropped my body to the ground with a thud and shackled my hands to them. Ordinarily I would have thrashed against him, putting up a fight before letting him put me in this position. But my movements were slow and slurred, my eyes drooped from the onset of a concussion.

For the second time in one night darkness clouded my mind. The gash in my head pulsed with my heart beat, and I pleaded with myself not to let unconsciousness win again, but I was powerless to chase it away. The last thing I felt before giving in was blood sliding down the side of my head.

# Chapter 15

"Wake up, my dear."

The soft voice of a woman beckoned me from my slumber.

I groaned in protest and tried to roll over. The memory of my arms being bound crashed down on me when the chains tightened, not allowing me to move much more than a few inches. My eyes flew open, and I gasped, yanking at the restraints with all of my strength.

My dress was still soaked, and I shivered from the brisk air. My muscles ached with stiffness, and the skin around the shackles was bloody and burned. Each involuntary jerk cut the steel in deeper. Pain bit through my wrists and radiated down my back.

"Stop moving." The woman pleaded with me. "You'll only make it worse!"

"Who are you?" I yelled the weak demand.

"My name is Ursula. I am a servant here."

She knelt in front of me with a cloth and a bowl of water. Her sunken eyes were deep with guilt and regret. She frowned as if she was troubled by my predicament, and I found myself feeling sad for her. Her dark hair covered her shoulders in soft curls. Her frail, bony body swam in the baggy, dirty clothes she wore. She appeared to be severely malnourished and broken.

"How long have I been here?" I winced as she began to wash the dried blood from my wrists.

"Only overnight. This may hurt." She lifted my hair and brought the rag to the side of my head.

There was a large knot from where it struck the wall, and it was sensitive as she washed it.

"What...what is he going to do with me?"

"Oh." She sighed, not giving any thought before she answered. "I would imagine the same thing he did with me."

"What does that mean? What did he do to you?"

"It means only a few years ago I was sitting where you are, wondering my own fate. And look at me now."

I looked at her in horror. Was she suggesting I was going to end up a servant for my own father? That wouldn't happen. I would die before it did.

"Clearly you do not know me, Ursula. I do not bow down to anyone, least of all a dreadful tyrant such as Poseidon."

"With all due respect, miss, you do not know Poseidon. He will kill you if you do not comply."

"Then let him kill me."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Poseidon's massive shadow appeared in the doorway. In his hand, he gripped a long, pointed fire rod, and he patted it down into his opposite palm. My mouth went dry at the sight of it, and my face grew hot with fear. "I was hoping to keep you around for a bit before we resolved to such an end."

I summoned the last shred of courage I had buried deep in my gut. "Where is Perseus?"

"He is right where I left him, stubbornly pacing a hole in the planks outside my castle."

"He won't let you get away with this."

His massive hands rubbed his belly, and he laughed. "Ursula, have her dressed and leave her in my bedchambers. I promise not to keep you waiting too long, my dear."

"Yes, your majesty." Ursula bowed her head to him in submission, but she couldn't hide her frown.

"You must be daft if you think I am getting anywhere near your bedchamber," I hissed.

Poseidon set the rod against the wall, and I breathed out, relieved he had done away with his prop. He came closer, taking long exaggerated steps. Ursula scurried out of his way, sparing me a worried glance before he stepped between us. He leaned down, pressing the tip of his nose against my own.

"If you test me, you will find out very soon that your young lad is no match for his dear uncle."

His threat hit my heart like an arrow. I could accept my own death if that's what it took to get away from him, but I couldn't let Perseus die at the hands of this monster because of my stubbornness. I dropped my gaze to the floor, and I could feel Poseidon smile wide. He knew he had won this round.

"That's a good girl." He patted my head and disappeared through the doorway again.

Once the sound of his footsteps grew quiet, I turned to Ursula, praying she could sympathize with me enough to look past her fear.

"Ursula," I groveled. "Let me go. Please! I promise once I find Perseus outside we will come back. We won't leave until we have you with us. Poseidon said he is just outside. A moment is all I need, and this can all be over."

She was silent for a minute, and I thought she might be considering my offer. She opened her trembling mouth, telling me without words she couldn't take the risk.

"It won't be as bad as you think." She was a poor liar. "He will have his fill of you, and in a short time, he will grow bored and look for another pretty thing to cling to."

The shame in her eyes was enough to break my heart. A few days ago, I would have been furious at her weakness. Embarrassed for her even. But after having earned my own scars, I had grown much softer without realizing it until now. She wanted to help, but after years under this man's cruel control, she was too afraid to stand against him.

"I understand." I tried to feign a soft smile, but my own lips trembled just as badly as hers.

She took a single key from the pocket of her frumpy shirt and undid the shackles that bound me to the wall. I rubbed the dead skin away, swallowing the pain down deep into my belly. My eyes flickered to the rod Poseidon had left behind. What I was about to do filled me with disgrace. I did not want to betray this woman, but my own survival—and more importantly my mother's freedom—depended on it.

I casually strolled ahead of her, purposefully making my strides wide enough to create some distance. She glanced over at me with suspicion, and I dashed for the wall that held up the fire rod. I grabbed it and rushed for the door. She followed close behind, but I had just enough room to slam the double doors shut before she could stop me.

She pounded her fists against the wooden frame as I pressed my weight against it. I slipped the rod between the handles to lock her in. My chest ached with guilt, but I did not have time to let it keep me from pressing on. I did not know how many servants Poseidon had, but I knew well enough the racket would have stirred someone, if not Poseidon himself.

"I _will_ come back for you," I promised through the door before I scurried away.

A labyrinth of hallways turned me around, and all the doors save the one I had just quarantined off looked the same—each one bright red with wooden handles. I was completely lost, with a stampede of footsteps rushing up behind me. Finally, at the end of a hall, I found an open room.

My heart sank when I realized it was not the same room I had been in with Poseidon. It was decorated almost identically, but it was not the entrance to the castle. The shuffling behind me came closer. A man shouted from the hall I had just left.

A large hull of a ship was tucked away in the corner. I climbed inside a gaping hole in its center just in time to see six guards burst into the room.

They each wore white tunics and carried long scythes that stretched far above their heads.

"You!" One man pointed toward two of the others, then gestured to one side of the room. "Search over there."

Their party broke up, and the others peered around statutes on the opposite side. Sinking down deep into my hiding place, I flattened myself against the ground. One man circled it, and I held my breath. Their fairly sloppy search of the room ceased once they were satisfied, and they hurried back down the hall to check elsewhere.

My heart rattled against my ribcage. I let myself relax into the floor once the sound of their steps ceased. My muscles were weak from using so much energy I did not have. I was exhausted, running on reserves, and my body protested, refusing to get back up.

I had to move. I had to find the willpower to keep going.

I thought of The Fates and everything I had trained for. I imagined my mother—all alone in the dark cave for all these years. In general, I did not allow myself to linger on these things too long. They stirred feelings that did not sit well, and today was no exception. But then I thought of Perseus.

He was outside, creating a disturbance that Poseidon was very unlikely going to let continue much longer. And he was doing it at my expense. I had to find Poseidon before he stopped finding Perseus' determination amusing and started letting it grate on his nerves.

"Come on," I said to myself aloud as I dragged my body out of the ship. "The stupid goat is going to get himself killed."

I limped my way back to where I'd started, carefully checking each corner before I went around it. The door where I had barricaded Ursula stood open, with the fire rod nowhere to be found. Too bad. I would have loved to bash it into Poseidon's skull.

A woman's sobs came from another corridor.

Poseidon's voice screamed over it.

"You let her escape! Your head will be the payment for my inconvenience, you stupid girl."

"I'm sorry, your majesty," she begged. "I tried to catch her, but she was too quick!"

The voice was Ursula's. My stomach twisted, and I ran toward the noise. I couldn't let her lose her life because of me anymore than I could allow the fate upon Perseus. I struck a wall with my fist to announce my presence, hoping to distract him long enough for me to find them. I listened hard, but my own noises must have stunned them. There were no more voices. They were listening for me, too. Luckily for Poseidon, I was done hiding. He would find me soon enough.

"Where are you, you disgusting bastard?" I called out.

Ursula's gasp hit my ears. I was close. I rounded a corner, stopping short when I saw them.

Poseidon had his hand firmly enveloping the back of Ursula's tiny neck. He had her kneeling, begging for her life, with her face smashed into the floor. In his other hand was a hatchet, poised and ready to come down to behead her. I shuddered when I thought about the possibility of being just a second or two later than I was.

He looked at me with utter shock on his face. "You _are_ a fool."

I balled my fists up tight at my side and stepped one foot forward. "Let her go." My demand was firm. "You were looking for me. Here I am."

"You are exchanging your life for hers?" His tone was light, but his face was deadly serious.

"Let her go," I repeated in a gruff voice.

"All right." He unclasped his hand and lowered the hatchet. Ursula stayed low, afraid to move until he kicked her aside. "Go to your chambers. But do not think for a moment that she has spared you. We will continue this conversation when I am through here."

She scrambled to her feet and disappeared up the winding stairwell erected behind Poseiden. It was only then that I noticed we were in the same room as before, and just to my side was the door to the outside world where Perseus was waiting for me.

He was not striking at the door any longer. In fact, I had not heard him since I woke. If he'd heard Ursula's tormented screams he no doubt thought they were coming from me. I had little time to handle this on my own before he would find his way in.

"I'm curious." Poseidon cocked his head the side. "You are much more daring than many of the men I have guarding me. None of them would sacrifice themselves to save even their dearest friend, and yet you did it for a stranger."

"It was the right thing to do." I lifted my chin.

"I have never met a woman quite like you before, Ambrosia."

"That is because there are no women like me."

"That is a fact." His cheeks tightened into a smile. "I can see why my nephew is so taken with you."

"I am not here to exchange pleasantries with you, Poseidon."

"Then what are your intentions, my dear?"

"I am going to kill you," I said without a flinch.

"Is that so?" He laughed. "Oh, sweet, sweet Ambrosia. You overestimate yourself. What would make you think you are capable of such a thing?"

I took a deep breath to settle myself before taking casual strides to close the distance between us. "You could call it a family trait. My family has a history of getting what we want. My father's side of it, anyway."

"Tell me, then, is your father proud of you?"

I smiled sweetly and tilted my head to the side. "I don't know, Father. Are you?"

# Chapter 16

His eyes grew so wide they could have covered his face, and his lips twisted to mark his confusion. I would treasure this image of him for the rest of my days, no matter how few I had left.

He lifted his finger in the air and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, there was a crash from the window beside him. His arms flew up to protect his face, and shards of glass flew into them. A wooden barrel that had come through hit his leg, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Perseus climbed through the freshly made hole with Homer close behind. No wonder he had stopped making so much noise. He had gone for help while I was unconscious.

Every instinct I had screamed at me to run to them, to get out while I had the chance. But I had a job to finish here first. I had a promise to keep.

They ran to me, but I was already charging at the fallen god, rolling around in pain. I climbed on top of him, ignoring the pieces of glass that worked into my knees.

He was strong and thrashed and bucked against my weight, but his pain had subdued him just enough for me to maintain my hold. Reaching for my magical Blade of The Serpent, I itched to drive it deep into his throat.

It was gone. How had I not noticed it was gone?

"Ambrosia, let's go!" Perseus pulled on my arm.

"No!" I shook his grip from me. "Homer! Up the stairs there is a dark-haired servant girl called Ursula. Find her!"

He looked from me to Perseus for permission, but Perseus shook his head in refusal.

"She is his servant!" he yelled. "I'm not here for her. I came back for _you."_

"And I won't leave without her," I shouted back with unyielding determination.

He raked his fingers through his hair, stomping the ground in frustration. "Damn it, Ambrosia!"

"I promised her, Perseus!" My voice broke.

Poseidon was gaining strength underneath me. I only had moments before he would be able to throw me off him.

"Homer!" I screamed.

He did not wait for Perseus this time. He read my unwavering determination and shot up the stairs.

Perseus called after him. Once he realized it was no use, he turned his attention to Poseidon. Shoving me aside, he took my place with his sword pointed into his uncle's gut. The blade wouldn't kill him. Poseidon was immortal, after all. But the piercing pain of it was enough for Poseidon to hold himself still.

"Get up," Perseus ordered.

Poseidon winced as he lifted himself to sit, raising his hands defensively. His face and arms were gashed from the deadly projectiles. His deep red blood pooled around him, the smell of it filling the room.

"For a second time..." Poseidon breathed heavily and narrowed his eyes onto Perseus. "You turn on your family for a wench."

"For a second time, uncle," Perseus sniffed. "You have taken that which means the most to me."

"You sought out this war the moment you trespassed on my island."

"We wanted nothing of the sort, you blood-hungry lunatic."

I watched them in silence, witnessing the result of a rivalry that had spanned over two decades unfolding before me. So much hurt and treachery had no business swirling inside a family. I was risking everything to piece mine back together, and here they were, taking it all for granted.

"What then?" Poseidon spit blood to the ground. "You came to introduce your dear old uncle to your next wife? Your first heartache wasn't great enough—you insist on putting yourself through it again?"

"The condition of my heart is my own concern."

I recognized the danger I was put in. Now would be a perfect opportunity for Poseidon to reveal what he had only just learned about me. He could make some quip about Perseus wanting his daughter, and he would think nothing of it. Perseus should know as much about the person he was risking his life for.

"Where is my dagger?" I interrupted, feeling desperate to turn the subject away from matters of family.

"You have lost it?" Perseus redirected his glare to me.

"I was knocked unconscious for hours!"

His eyes moved to the visible bump on my temple. His face shifted from fury to despair. He reached a hand out to me, keeping the other firmly pressing the sword into Poseidon.

"Where is it?" he questioned Poseidon, pulling me protectively into his side.

Poseidon sat silently for a moment but then seemed to regain some of his fight. He clamored to his feet as he stared at us, projecting his insubordination.

"I do not answer to you," he gritted through his teeth. He brought his hands together and they expanded back apart, revealing a spinning ball of boiling water.

Perseus snickered at the threat. "Once upon a time, that would have frightened me. But do you know something? My father throws lightning. A bit of hot water pales in comparison."

Poseidon released a warrior's roar at the insult, and Perseus flicked his wrist to drive the end of his sword into his uncle's stomach.

Poseidon cried out in agony, and blood spurted from his mouth. The magical orb in his hands disappeared, and he clutched at the site of his impalement. Perseus pushed harder, shoving his sword through the backside of him and then into the wall behind him, pinning him against it.

"I'll ask you once more." Perseus spoke in such a calm fashion it was almost frightening. "Where is my lady's dagger?"

Poseidon gasped for air and gurgled through the liquid filling his mouth, spraying us both in the face as he spoke. "I don't know what dagger you speak of. I was not aware she had one."

"You're lying," I accused him.

"He's not!" Ursula screamed in fright behind me and flew down the stairwell to help her ruler.

She grabbed hold of my arm and threw me against the banister of the staircase. I had not been expecting it, and in my surprise, I slipped in the puddle of blood on the floor, aiding her without meaning to. She leaned over me, bending me back so far that my spine ached as if it could snap at any moment.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a knife— my knife. She dangled it over my face as she stared at Perseus, daring him to make a move. He watched her intently but did not move. Homer froze just a few steps from my head.

"What are you doing?" I hoped my voice did not confess the betrayal I felt.

"It's a pretty thing," she said in a soft voice.

"Ursula, you don't know what you're doing." I breathed slowly to regain control of myself and with any hope her in the process. "That can end all of this. All of your suffering can be over."

"I'm not talking about this trinket!" she hissed. "I'm talking about _you_. I have watched you pretty damsels come and go for years. And all the while I have stayed, cleaning up the messes he made of you."

"You do not have to stay. I can end this."

"He has never looked at me the way he looks at you," she sobbed. "After everything I have done, it's not enough. Why isn't it enough?"

I gasped, finally understanding what was happening. She reminded me so much of Chrysaor in this moment. He had the same sad eyes when the very same words left his lips about Perseus and me.

"You love him?"

"Of course I love him, you twit!"

"But...even after everything? I just saw him try to kill you!"

Torment overflowed in her eyes and tears streamed down her face. "He is all that I know."

I couldn't conceive of it. Perseus had used his words as weapons, and I already considered myself a fool for still loving him in spite of it. If he threatened me with a hatchet, I would sooner kill him than save him.

I was still going to kill him, I reminded myself. I would have to at the end of this if I wanted to save my mother. But now that I let myself think about it, I was not sure I still had the strength to do it.

I thought he would be killed by Poseidon, and I couldn't keep myself from coming to his rescue. If I couldn't let him die at the hands of another, what should make me think I could do it myself?

"Ursula." Poseidon's call to her commanded my attention back to the present. "I do love you. I have told you so many times!"

"But you don't mean it!"

"Of course, I mean it! You said it yourself. The others have come and gone, but I have never let you leave, have I? I have destroyed them all. You were the only exception."

She thought in silence but did not reply.

"Ursula," he continued his plea. "I promise she is the last. Kill her, and we can move on. I will show you what I say is true."

She looked to me, then back at him. She would believe his words. She would believe them because she needed to.

I closed my eyes, solemnly resolved to my defeat as I felt her raise her armed hand up high.

"Ambrosia!" Perseus yelled, but I did not flinch.

The dagger came down slow, though not into my gut or my heart as I expected. She drew a long, hard line on my face with it from my forehead to my chin. I cried out in agony as the mind-numbing pain gripped my whole body.

She took her time carving her way through my flesh, and when she was through, she snagged a fist full of my hair and threw me to the ground.

"See how he will want you now," she snapped and spit on my curled-up body. "See if any of them want you now."

As I laid there, a quivering mass, I knew that she was right. My beauty had been my way about this world, and thanks to her, I would now have a hideous scar to take it from me. Perseus wouldn't want me, and neither would Hercules. But that did not matter. My mother mattered. I still had a reason to fight.

I drew the involuntary spasms that wracked my body into my core and raged through the hurt. Her back was turned to me. She was cackling at the misery written on Perseus' face. I drew in a few quick and shallow breaths and leaped to my feet. I ran my full body into her, toppling her to the ground.

A red fog took over my mind, and I drove my fists down into her face, one blow after another. Her bones shattered under my fists. She had betrayed me. I could have let her die, but I'd exposed myself instead. I could have left her here, at his mercy. I should have worried about myself and left when I had the chance. She was just one more person who showed me I couldn't trust anyone. One more snake in the thicket that was my life.

The simple clink of my glass knife falling from her hand and onto the floor snapped me back. Her breathing had become slow and rhythmic. She was still alive, but only by a little. I jumped on the dagger, and once I had it in hand, I held it out, pointing it at Poseidon's throat.

"Please," Poseidon pleaded. "There is no need for death here. You may all leave. I won't try to stop you."

"My, is the mighty Poseidon begging for his life?" Perseus tittered. "This will be one for the legend books, wouldn't you say, Ambrosia?"

"I would say it might damage your reputation a bit," I added. "Lucky for you, I did not come here for bloodshed, Poseidon."

"You might have a look at my servant then," Poseidon jeered.

"Look at my face!" I wiped the fluid away to show off the mark. "The wench is fortunate she is still alive."

"So vain," he tsked. "Do you think it will matter what you look like once he finds out who you are?"

I shifted my eyes to Perseus, who did not seem to understand the implication.

"Her former profession holds no weight with me." Perseus dismissed it, even as Poseidon laughed at his ignorance.

"Her profession is unimportant. You will find out who she is."

"What in Hades makes you think I do not know her?"

"Because if you did, you would have killed her by now."

Perseus locked eyes with his uncle, daring him to continue. "Tell me then, dear uncle. What is so terrible I would slaughter the woman who means the most to me?"

A sadistic smile crossed Poseidon's lips. "Why would I do that? The harder you fall, the more it will hurt in the end. I will consider your suffering to be payment for your former trespasses against me."

My heartbeat pounded in my ears. I had to stop this, or everything would be ruined. I pulled at Perseus' arm to distract him. "It's the ramblings of a beaten man, nothing more."

"What are we going to do with him?" Homer spoke up for the first time during the scuffle. His voice shook. He sounded frightened, child-like even.

I thought hard and recalled my promise to the goddess. More importantly, I remembered who it was I was looking at. I couldn't kill my father. I was proving to be far weaker than I had ever imagined I could be.

"Leave him," I ordered.

Perseus' jaw dropped, though it was Homer that protested.

"Are you mad? He just ordered his servant to kill you, and you would leave him breathing?"

"I do not expect either of you to understand. I won't allow any of us to become the villain he is."

# Chapter 17

Our departure was not nearly as swift as I had hoped it would be. We realized Pegasus was far too exhausted to carry even two of us home after his three-way journey. Transporting all of us would have been impossible.

Perseus demanded a ship be provided at Poseidon's expense, and as he found himself in debt to me for his life, he had no way to argue against it.

Debts were not something I wished to think about. I also had a debt over my head. For whatever reason, Perseus had come back for me. I owed him my life, and I knew it well. Part of me wished to reason it away—to consider my life a repayment for my mother's, making us stark even. But even abiding by that rationality meant his life would have to be spared. Deep down in my soul, I knew I was using it only as an excuse. It had become deathly clear I couldn't kill him. I would need to devise a new plan, and I was running low on time to do it in.

The square-rigged vessel we had commandeered was large enough for an entire fleet, leaving the three of us to struggle to set sail on it alone. Nevertheless, we did manage. The white sails did a noisy dance in the strong wind, drowning out the heated argument happening between Homer and Perseus at the helm. They debated over who was the more adept sailor, and by rights who should be steering us back to Greece.

Pegasus hung his head over the stern, watching with fearful eyes as we crashed down into the rough waves. Poseidon's fury could no doubt be felt, but I was too distracted to give it much notice. Instead, I stood next to my brother, pouring my heart out to him as if he understood every word.

The wound on my face still bled, and with each word I spoke, it stretched painfully wider. No doubt by the end of this voyage, I would be more hideous than Medusa herself.

"He does care for you," Homer chimed in from behind, interrupting my private conversation. Not surprisingly, it seemed he had lost this round with Perseus. "A great deal, in fact."

I turned around and swatted at him. I was too tired to handle the man I had learned to be annoyed with any time he opened his mouth. "What do you know of it?"

"I know he came back for you."

"So what does that prove? He has a reputation to uphold." I exaggerated an exhale and leaned back onto the wooden railing.

"It proves the very thing you wish to deny. He cares for you. He did not have to come back, Ambrosia. He had the water. He had what he came for. No one but us knew about you. What did he have to gain by returning for you?"

"He can't love me." Tears swelled in my eyes as I looked directly at him. "You have not heard the things he has said to me. You can't speak that way to someone you love."

Through my watery eyes, I could have sworn I saw Homer's lips curl into an amused smile. I rubbed the moisture away, and when the stupid grin remained, I was beside myself.

"Are you...are you laughing at me?"

"Yes, I'm laughing at you, you stupid girl! Are you truly so dense to think a wounded man wouldn't lash out the harshest at the one he loves the most? That is how love works, darling! That is what is so beautiful about relationships. One person stands to take the lashings for the other's venting. You will have your turn, if you haven't already. Then, when the air is cleared and the tension is gone, you make love and it's all better. Did your parents not teach you anything of such matters?"

I considered his words, and at first, they seemed nothing more than the ramblings of a simple, misguided idiot. However, the more they rested, the more sense they made.

"I'm afraid I did not have any parents to teach me such things," I admitted.

Homer's face gave way to a frown again. "Oh. I'm very sorry to hear that. I would never have—"

"It's all right." I smiled for a moment. "There is a problem in your theory, though."

"What is that?"

I looked down to my feet and my cheeks began to heat. "Perseus won't make love to me."

I expected him to laugh again, but instead he came closer and rested on the railing beside me, his expression somber and delicate.

"Perseus truly is a wounded man," he stated gently. "Do you recall the night he brought you to our camp? I was utterly shocked to see him in your company because I have never seen him in the company of any woman."

"What about his wife?"

"I met him just after he lost her. He was Hades-bent on honoring her by never being with another. I never thought it to be a sensible vow, but I was afraid he had soiled that promise for the sake of a whore."

He was quick to look at me, realizing the sting in his words too late. I rested my arm on his shoulder to reassure him I knew he meant no offense. I should have been taken back by it. My former self would have charged him as my next victim. But I couldn't bring myself to be insulted. What he'd said was true. It would have been a tragic thing to dishonor the woman Perseus loved so dearly for an evening with a harlot.

I was slowly beginning to accept this new person I was becoming—this gentler, more thoughtful individual. And part of accepting her meant leaving behind the crude, perhaps slightly too liberal woman I had once been. This journey had changed me. If those changes were for better or worse remained to be seen.

But already I felt worthier of the things the other women my age enjoyed. A lover, a family, a home. I'd never let myself want those things before. A prostitute couldn't have them. It was no use wanting.

"He will come around." Homer's eyes pleaded on behalf of his comrade. "Though it will require a great deal of patience on your part."

I had to smile at his effort. He was a good friend to Perseus. If circumstances had been different, he could have been one to me, as well. But every day that passed brought us closer to when they would all see me as their enemy. It was only a matter of time.

"I promise I will be as patient and forgiving with him as he is with me." I grinned.

The wind was picking up, and my hair tangled in itself with each gust.

"I should check the rigging to make sure she's good and tight." He nodded politely before he began to sprint for the deck.

"Homer," I called after him. "I suppose I should thank you, as well."

"Why is that, miss?"

"You came back for me, too."

"I only did as Perseus asked. I owe him much."

I cocked my head to the side in question. "What do you owe him?"

"My daughter's life." His admission was stunning and unexpected. He looked over his shoulder to check that Perseus was occupied before he came close again, leaning in. "She was taken prisoner by part of a rogue unit of the Roman army. They stormed our settlement, killed what men were there and took the women and children with them. I was at a tavern in Athens when it happened." His eyes shifted downward in shame.

"I arrived not long after they left. Everything was burned to the ground. Bodies were everywhere. My wife, she was just on the burning doorstep of our home." His breathing quickened, as if reliving every horrible piece of the memory all over again. "I tried to gather what men I could back in Athens to ride after them, but none would join my crusade. They were all too cowardly to stand against the Romans. All except Perseus. He owed me nothing at all. He did not even know who I was before then. But together, we found the unit carrying my dear daughter."

His face brightened now, no doubt beaming at the recollection of the joyous reunion with his kin. "You should have seen him, Ambrosia. He fought with a fierceness unlike any I had ever seen. I helped, of course. But he could have taken down the entire unit on his own. We freed so many children that day. I swore my allegiance to him, from that point on I swore it."

"I don't suppose I have heard of anyone whom Perseus has come across and not aided in some way," I said sighing at the reminder that he really was a courageous demigod.

"Homer!" Perseus' voice could scarcely be heard through the now howling wind, but the urgency of it was clear. "Get up here!"

Homer raced up to the deck, and I followed close behind him.

Perseus shouted indecipherable orders into the deafening wind. He pointed forward, and we glanced up just in time to see the line holding the main top sail to the mast snap. A whipping sound echoed around us, and the crashing waves pounded into our stern with such force I was certain the wood would buckle underneath it.

The sky opened above us, and a freezing sideways rain beat into our skin like nails. I gritted my teeth against it and dragged myself up to the wheel next to Perseus and Homer.

"He's going to sink it!" Homer screamed, and Perseus nodded in agreement.

"Who is?" I demanded.

"Poseidon," Perseus shouted.

"He wouldn't sink his own ship!" I insisted, trying to convince myself more than them. "We told him we would have it sent back to him. He wouldn't destroy it."

"It's just a ship," Homer said. "He will have another built."

I shook my head furiously, not wanting to believe it. "Maybe it's only a storm. You don't know it's him!"

"Perhaps she's right," Homer argued. "Nikkias said he could hold him off."

"Nikkias?" I asked. "What about Nikkias?"

"That is why I came, and he stayed behind," Homer explained. "He said he could protect us all only if he could concentrate on it well enough."

"What do you mean protect us? What did he need to concentrate on?"

"Nikkias is a sorcerer."

"A what?" I shouted in surprise. Why was I only just learning this?

"A sorcerer," Perseus repeated Homer's claim. "He has been covering us with a shield of protection for our entire journey. He must be tiring."

"If he can protect us, why do we need the water to enter the cave?" I asked. "Why did we risk this at all?"

"His magic can only protect us from natural forces. We suspected Poseidon would try to sabotage our return. Nikkias is the only reason we have made it this far."

A pulley broke loose and swung by us, nearly striking me in the head. I dodged it but slipped on the damp deck and fell backward.

Before I could regain my footing, Perseus pushed me back down to the ground and climbed on top of me, covering my body with his own to protect me from anything else that might undo itself.

"Ambrosia, listen to me!" He hollered over the racket. "We are going to sink!"

"You don't know that!" I cried out again, desperately trying to rewrite our fate with my words. I did not care to be at the mercy of the water again, not after being inside the fountain.

He took my face in his hands and held it still, staring deep into my eyes.

"You wanted an adventure," he smiled. "Well, here it is, love. We will be fine, I promise. You have to trust me."

I blinked back my panic. His confident gaze made me believe as strongly as he seemed to we would make it through. I gave him a slow nod, and he pressed his lips down onto mine before he pushed himself to stand again.

"Homer, collect the rope from the rigging!" he ordered. "Ambrosia, down below there are a number of empty rum barrels. Collect as many as you can and bring them top side."

I scrambled below deck, found the dust-covered cedar barrels, and rolled them one by one back up the stairs. They may have been empty but they were still quite heavy. The ship swayed violently, and I took more tumbles than I would ever admit.

As I brought them up, Perseus tied them together into a makeshift raft.

"We're going to float?" Homer asked nervously.

"There is no way we will make it on this," I complained.

"Look! Over there!" Perseus pointed south. "Land is just ahead. We will float at least close enough that we will be able to swim the rest of the way."

"But what about Pegasus?" I suddenly realized I had lost track of him, and my gut sickened with worry.

"He is a _flying_ horse, Ambrosia," Perseus reminded me. "He will be fine. He is probably gone already."

The men did not give me time to protest further. Together they hoisted the raft over the side and tied it to the railing. Homer climbed down first, then I did, and then Perseus followed.

Balancing the three of us on the unstable watercraft was tricky, and once we were settled, Perseus took my old knife from his sack and cut us loose. We clung to the raft as Poseidon's wrath barreled into us. The massive, turbulent waves carried us away from the ship, and once we were far enough away, we each took handfuls of water and manually propelled our raft away from the doomed vessel. We drifted away just in time to see a vortex appear in the water directly below the gigantic ship and swallow it whole.

# Chapter 18

I kept watch on the sky as we floated, keeping an eye out for Pegasus. Imagining him trapped and sinking into the whirlpool filled me to the brim with sheer terror. The closer we came to shore, the dimmer my hope was.

It did not take us long to reach the shore. Poseidon had unintentionally stirred the tide in our favor, and the current was so strong on its own that little energy was required from us. .

My melancholy mood lifted substantially when Perseus pointed to the shoreline. Pegasus trotted back and forth along the beach, awaiting our arrival just as eagerly as I did. I couldn't wait any longer. Overwhelmed with relief, I jumped overboard and swam the rest of the way to wrap my arms around his long, lean neck.

"He seems to have taken to you." Homer huffed once he docked the barrels.

Perseus squinted after us, trying to read into our strange bond. "I don't recall having seen a horse quite so taken, in fact."

"We've been through much together." I shrugged, still smiling stupidly.

"Not nearly as much as you and I have." Perseus frowned.

"My, Perseus," I teased. "Are you jealous of an animal?"

He rolled his eyes. "Let's just hope this thing can manage to carry us the rest of the way home. I haven't the energy to carry us both, and you look as if you could collapse at any moment."

"That's very kind of you," I snapped.

I tugged at my dress and fumbled with my hair in a vain attempt to transform into something moderately acceptable before I was hit with the realization that it didn't matter any longer what the rest of me looked like. This hideous thing on my face throbbed and burned from the seawater. The scar left behind would see to it I never received another passing glance from a man.

I hadn't realized my hand had instinctively risen to the wound until Perseus pulled my fingers away from it. His face was deep with a mixture of guilt and worry. Homer awkwardly watched the display, glaring at Perseus as if he was mortified at his friend's misstep.

"That's not what I meant," Perseus sighed. "But that does look to be getting infected, and your face is flushed with fever. We need to get you back through the arc so Nikkias can heal it."

"He can heal it? Will the mark be gone completely?" I tried to conceal my humiliation at asking such a superficial question. I likely sounded like a self-absorbed twit, but that was not far from the truth, I supposed.

Perseus took my shoulders in his gentle hands, pulling me in. He did not need to answer; his heartbeat in my ear sang the song of pity for him.

"There will be a scar," he said delicately. "But it's nothing to worry about. Even that can't hide your beauty."

I scoffed at him inwardly and thought of my mother. Athena said there had been a man she held affections for before she was turned into a monster. I had little doubt the reason I had not heard of this before was because once she lost her allure, he wanted her no longer. Once her golden hair turned to snakes and her skin transformed to scales, there was nothing more he needed from her.

She was punished for her beauty out of pure lust, and mine was taken out of nothing more than petty jealousy. Poseidon and his wench were not so different—one might find them to be a perfect pair.

I wiped an escaping tear away before I pulled my face from his chest.

"We should get going," I sniffled. Without looking at either of them I climbed on my brother's back.

"Ambrosia..." Homer started in concern.

"I'm fine." I feigned a smile, putting on a brave facade. "It's just a face. I'll be just fine. But I really am feeling dreadful, so could we please?"

"Of course." He nodded and climbed up behind me.

"What do you think, Pegasus?" Perseus patted his head. "Are you strong enough to carry all three of us?"

Pegasus snorted, and Perseus slid in front of me. Even I was impressed when the horse's gigantic wings spanned out and effortlessly lifted us all into the air.

The ride to Athena's temple was short, and I was infinitely grateful for it. Fever was coming on quick, and my body ached even more than it had already from its grip.

I must have looked awful judging by the goddess' face when she saw me. She did not say a word to me, only rushed her servants to carry me to my quarters. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the bed, and when I awoke, Nikkias was standing above me.

His left hand hovered over my forehead, and his other waved over my torso. He hummed to himself with his eyes closed, but the more I came to the more aware he became that I was no longer sleeping.

"Wonderful," he smiled. "I was hoping you would come back soon. You had me worried, little one."

I returned a groggy, half-grin and stretched long. Amazingly, all the pain from the past few days was gone. I felt renewed, refreshed, and completely re-energized.

My hand launched to my face. I ran my fingers along the line of raised, fresh skin marring my face where the wound had been. I would never look the same.

"Don't give it another thought," Nikkias scolded me. "No one will even notice it."

"You're daft," I snorted, appreciating the gesture with all of my heart.

"Honestly," he insisted with sincerity. "With eyes as beautiful as yours, who could see past them? They sparkle the way emeralds do. They remind me of someone very important to me."

If it had come from any other, I would have thought the sentiment nothing more than a feeble attempt at flattery in hopes of gaining an invitation into my bed. There was something innocent in his manner, paternal even, that made his words nothing more than gracious and heartfelt.

"You're very kind." I smiled and sat up. "And you have done a wonderful job. I feel better than before all of this started."

"I'm so glad to hear that." He sat on the edge of the bed and clasped my hands in his. "They're warm, that's wonderful. You're still not up to returning to your old ways, though, I'm afraid. You'll need to rest up a bit before jumping into trying to get yourself killed again."

"Why didn't you tell me you were a sorcerer?"

"It's not something you tell." He shrugged. "Unless you have a desire to be burned for it."

"What else can you do?" My voice was heavy with child-like curiosity.

"There are many things I _can_ do, but very little that I _will_ do. My kind has a well-deserved reputation for being wicked."

"I could never think you to be wicked, Nikkias."

"Nor I, you, miss."

"Nikkias, please stop calling me miss and m'lady. Such formalities are hardly necessary. You are not my servant, after all," I chuckled. "Could you imagine the notion? Me with my own servants."

"Why should that be funny?" Nikkias' face did not twitch. "After everything you have been through, I can hardly think of anyone else more deserving."

"Oh, Nikkias. If only you were twenty years younger."

"I am the same age as Perseus." He raised his brow. "A year younger, in fact."

My hand quickly covered my mouth, fearing I had offended him. A quick check of the math confirmed his claim. If Perseus cut me from my mother's womb twenty-three years ago, he would be of the same generation as Nikkias. I supposed that was one advantage to being a demigod—you could almost never tell how old one was.

"I did not mean—"

"That's all right, dear." He winked. "I know you meant no harm. Your gentleman caller on the other hand, we have had our disagreements." He motioned to the corner where Hercules slept bunched up on a tiny chair.

"Why is he here?"

"He has not left this room since we brought you in. Perseus was not happy about it, I might add. And he made it terribly difficult to concentrate with all of his babbling."

"I should wake him." I pushed the covers aside and tried to swing my legs over, but Nikkias held them still.

"No, no." He shook his head. "You can't walk around just yet. Your body must finish the healing process before you exert yourself, or all of my efforts will have been in vain."

He tucked the corners of my sheets back around me and leaned me to lay down again.

"You're right. It would be selfish of me to interrupt his rest any way."

Nikkias laughed. "Don't you worry about that, dear. I am under strict orders to wake him as soon as your eyes open. I will probably not hear the end of it for waiting as long as I did."

He stood up to head for Hercules, but I grabbed his arm just before he could.

"Nikkias, where is Perseus?" I felt desperate and silly for asking, but he had been the first one I'd hoped to see when I woke. I appreciated Hercules' presence, but in all honesty, I would have preferred to have seen Perseus sitting in that chair. I was secretly disappointed he was not the one who refused to leave my side.

"He and Homer are resting as well."

"Oh. Of course. It was a silly question."

Nikkias read into my dissatisfaction and quickly added, "He only left because I told him the fewer distractions I had, the quicker you would recover. This one was too boneheaded to understand it."

"Boneheaded," I repeated with a giggle. "Yes, that does describe Hercules quite well."

Nikkias ruffled Hercules' hair in a playful manner. "Wake up, Prince Charming. Your lady waits for you."

Hercules mumbled something under his breath before he remembered where he was and why he was there. When he did, he sprang to his feet in a panic, his pupils dilated and round.

"You're awake!" He shouted and rushed to my bedside.

"Yes," I laughed. "I am awake."

"You look wonderful." He brushed the back of my hand with his lips before he sat next to me.

"Ugh," I moaned. "I do wish men would grow thorns from their tongues every time they told a lie."

"I have never lied to you."

His face was so sweet, so sincere, I could have looked at him all day. This was another side to him I had not known, one I would like to see far more often.

"Excuse me, miss." Nikkias cleared his throat. "I imagine you must be famished. I shall have something prepared and brought up to you."

"Thank you, Nikkias," I choked out. "For all you have done for me."

Once Nikkias was gone, Hercules climbed in bed next to me, scooping me up in his arms. "You'll never leave me again, you know that, don't you?"

"Oh, Hercules." I shoved him playfully. "I was just fine."

"Just fine? I let you out of my sight for two days, and look at you! You come back nearly dead. I should never have let you go."

" _Let_ me go? Who has convinced you that you had any say in it at all?"

He amplified a shrug and sighed heavily. "You are an incorrigible young lady, Ambrosia."

"You exaggerate. I was perfectly safe. Perseus wouldn't have let any real harm come to me."

He stiffened at the mention of his brother, and I immediately wished I had not brought him up. The caring, rascally part of Hercules that was so fresh recoiled and was again replaced by the distant, casual, polite side of him.

"You put a lot of faith in him," he said plainly.

"I suppose I do. Though he did earn it when he came back for me."

"Don't you think I wanted to go to you?" His face darkened, and I leaned away to get some distance. He dug his fingers into my side to bring me back in.

"I'm sure you did, Hercules."

"I did not even know you were in danger until you returned. No one thought to alert me. And when I found out..." His eyes misted over.

"Hercules, look at me. I know you would have been the first person to come if you had known."

"But Perseus is the one who will get the credit for it. He is the one you will look unto as your knight, and I am left here looking to be the coward who shook in his boots while you suffered at the hands of a mad man."

"I said no such thing!" I clutched my scalp in frustration. I was exasperated, at my wits end. He was delusional, making himself his own enemy.

That was something the brothers had in common, then. They both stood in their own way, running things through their heads so rapidly they came out distorted and so much more complicated than they needed to be. Neither of them could sit and enjoy the moment they were in because they were too busy looking for a splinter in the story to give them a reason _not_ to be happy.

I was readying myself to ask Hercules to leave when the door swung open. Perseus appeared in the doorway and narrowed his eyes on us. Seeing the two of us in bed together... it took little imagination to figure out what he must have been thinking.

"Perseus." I inched away from Hercules.

"It's good to know while I was so concerned for you that you were finding comfort with my brother in your bed."

His voice was icy calm, but his expression was murderous. I opened my mouth to refute his insinuation, but I was too stunned. I couldn't form the words. He took my dumbstruck silence to indicate his suspicions were true.

In one swift, unanticipated motion, he flew across the room, wrapped his fingers around Hercules' neck and jerked him from my side. He dragged him across the room, slamming him against the wall behind him. I scrambled to my knees, shouting for the chaos to come to an end.

# Chapter 19

"With all the whores at your disposal!" Perseus shouted so sharply spit sprang from his lips with each word. "You couldn't keep your hands off just this one?"

"Forgive me," Hercules yelled back, making no effort to hide his sarcasm. "But I would never have predicted the high and mighty Perseus would soil himself with a whore at all!"

"Do not call her a whore, you putrid goat!"

"That is what she is Perseus! A whore. _My_ whore!"

Perseus' hand tightened around Hercules' neck. I launched myself from the bed and hurried to their sides, trying with all the strength I had to pull Perseus from his brother before his damage was irreversible.

"Stop it!" I pleaded. "Perseus, please! Let him go!"

"And _you!"_ His venomous eyes turned on me like daggers.

His hand unclasped from Hercules' throat, and Hercules rubbed the bruise left behind by his fingers. I stared at Perseus in fear, wondering if I was next.

"Perseus," I pleaded with a shaky voice, backing away with small, slow steps. "It's not what you—"

"After everything I have risked for you! I could have lost my own life chasing after yours, and you run to him now that you are safe? Where was he when you were stranded, Ambrosia? It was not him who came to your rescue, was it?"

"I never asked you to come back for me!" I clenched my jaw so tightly my teeth ached. "In fact, I do recall telling you not to worry yourself about me at all! And you have no right to condemn Hercules for not being the one to come. He couldn't have known I was in danger if he was never told."

"Is that what he told you?" Perseus released a sardonic chuckle. "That we never informed him?"

I shot a glance at Hercules, and my stomach lurched. His face admitted to the lie even before Perseus revealed the truth.

"He was the first one I came to," Perseus continued. "I hated to ask for his assistance, but he was the strongest option. He said he had matters to attend to at your brothel and refused to come."

I stood stunned, glaring at Hercules. "You lied to me," I whispered, my voice straining from the hurt. "What was that you said a moment ago? That you would never lie to me?"

"Ambrosia," Hercules sighed. "You have to understand. I thought it was a lost cause. Poseidon does not let his victims leave. I have a business to run. I couldn't risk myself, too. What of the other girls who depend on my management to earn their living?"

"I was a lost cause?"

"What does it matter anyway?" Hercules huffed. "You do not have eyes for me. You have them only for my brother. If I had gone that wouldn't have changed things, would it?"

He was right, it wouldn't have changed anything. But the betrayal still burned through my gut like poison. He had been my friend. One of the very few people I had let myself care for. I could never have abandoned him. Knowing he had left me for dead in the name of his business venture was incredible to me.

"No, Hercules," I confirmed. "It wouldn't have changed anything. You would still be the self-absorbed, morally perverse coward only coming to rescue the damsel in hopes that she would go to bed with you in return. Perseus knows I love him, but the reason I love him is because he would have come back for me even if I didn't because it was the right thing to do."

"It's how it has always been, then." Hercules shrugged. "He is the golden demigod, and I am the one left lacking."

"Then maybe you should work on changing that for yourself. No one else is going to fix it for you."

"Yes, well..." Hercules strode to the door and opened it. "It will be a cold day in the underworld before I begin taking life advice from a prostitute. And by the way, brother. Just before you had your little outburst, she was in bed with me, doting about you."

He slammed the door behind him, and I was left to face Perseus alone. Every bit of fear I felt in Poseidon's prison was multiplied. For the first time, I had just admitted out loud that I loved him. The dread of him rejecting me consumed my heart.

He had nearly killed his brother out of jealousy, but it had only just occurred to me that the only time Perseus wanted me was when another man did, too. The realization made me breathless, and my mind began to spin.

All of this could be nothing more than a perverse need for possession. I could be nothing more to him than a conquest he had no desire to truly win, and still he would cut down his contenders just the same.

Reluctantly, I turned to face him with my eyes fixed on the ground. To my surprise, he had come up behind me, and the instant I tilted my face to look at him, he had it in his hands. His lips enveloped mine, and with their spark, my arms instinctively wrapped out his neck, pulling him down closer.

I needed to feel his warmth pressed against every piece of me as badly as I needed to breathe. He was a part of everything I was—my past and my present. The future could be rewritten, it _had_ to be. I couldn't survive without him or the light he filled me with.

He released my mouth and pulled me into his chest. His embrace was so demanding, so needing I was resolved to tears. My lips were swollen, and they still tingled from his heat. I smothered them with my hand to keep the sensation from escaping.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into my hair. "I'm so sorry for everything."

"I never wanted him." I sniffed. "It has always been you, Perseus. You have been the one pushing me away. I have never once refused you."

"It's done, I promise you. I won't push you away again. Come sit down. Nikkias says you need to rest."

"Ugh," I moaned and pulled suggestively at his shirt. "I have slept enough."

"Then don't sleep." He laughed. My heartbeat slowed at the sound of it. "Just rest. Nikkias will have my head if he sees how much I've upset you."

He guided me back to the bed, and I complied with his wishes, only because he was the one wishing it. I climbed in, and he gently brought the covers to rest on my chest.

"I am going to go mad staying cooped up in here," I complained. "How long until we can leave?"

"Nikkias said he was sending up some food for you. I should see what is holding it up."

It was a clear deflection, and one that brought back the uneasiness to my stomach. He was hiding something, and I hated when he dodged my questions.

"Why do you do that?"

He lowered his gaze, preparing for his upcoming display of insincere ignorance. "Why do I do what?"

"Every time I ask you anything that makes you even a little uncomfortable, you pretend to not hear it and move on. You promised, Perseus. You gave me your word you wouldn't push me away."

A deep, worn-down sigh left his chest that told me for once I had won. He pulled a chair up to my bedside and sat, taking my hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"All right, Ambrosia. What do you want to know?"

"I can ask you anything?"

"Anything."

I thought long and hard about what to do with this opportunity. I knew it might never come around again. I could waste it on something as trivial as when we would depart, but I would learn that in time anyway.

"Your wife..." I paused to watch his reaction, and when he did not immediately retreat I continued. "The world can see something about her death still haunts you. Something more than simple, well-deserved mourning. What happened to her, Perseus?"

The muscle in his jawline tightened. He dropped his face into his hands and then moved them through his hair, leaning back in his chair.

"Do you know of the Amphisbaena?" he finally asked.

I had read about it in my studies. It was a vile, winged dragon with the torso of a snake and two heads, one on each end. The way the story was told, it was a creature born from my mother's blood. My literature presented it as pure legend, one of the many embellishments used to defame my mother and glorify the hero of the story, Perseus.

"I have read of it, yes," I answered vaguely.

"I took a leave to assist my mother with some business matters that required me to travel quite some distance. I was gone for over a month, the longest I had left Andromeda alone in the kingdom. She begged me not to leave. She kept telling stories about being followed by a creature any time she left the kingdom without me. She had a flare for the dramatic, not unlike you."

He smiled at me affectionately to soften the tease before his expression grew bleak.

"I honestly thought she was making excuses. She hated to be alone, even for an hour or two. So I left her. And when I returned she was missing. Someone said they saw her wandering in the forest picking berries. She loved to pick them. If they weren't served fresh, she would refuse them."

"Also not unlike me," I added with a gentle squeeze of his arm.

"Of course, our entire fleet was searching for her by the time I returned home, but ultimately I was the one who found her. She was in the forest, her body completely eviscerated from stem to stern. It _ate_ her insides, Ambrosia."

A chill chased down my spine. I couldn't fathom what he must have felt when he came across his wife in such an unimaginable state. _Hearing_ the tale soured my stomach.

"Oh, Perseus," I fussed. "I am so sorry. I had no idea."

"That is how I knew Medusa was not defeated."

"I don't understand." I shook my head. "What does Medusa or the Amphisbaena have to do with any of this?"

"The Amphisbaena killed her. Medusa sent that thing to kill her, and she won't stop until she kills me, too."

"Perseus..." I paused a moment to form my words delicately. "The Amphisbaena is not real. What you fear is but a myth."

His eyes glossed over, burning a piercing bright blue.

"Do not be so naïve, Ambrosia," he warned. "I saw it birthed with my own eyes."

I leaned forward, captivated by the tale I knew was coming. "What do you mean?"

"After I beheaded that beast, I carried her serpent-covered skull to the Red Sea. I set it down only for a moment, but it was long enough for creatures to rise from the splatters of her blood that seeped into the dirt. Vipers and spiders were given life by it, but none of the other abominations could compare to the horned Amphisbaena. I tried to strike it down with my sword, but it flew away before I could. I won't be free of it until I have done away with Medusa herself."

Tension clouded the room in a palpable fog. A dreary mood lingered, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to change the subject.

"I should have recovered well enough by tomorrow," I guessed. "We should plan to leave at first light."

"We had planned to leave then," Perseus said. "But you won't be coming with us."

"You can't be serious," I demanded with my hands planted on my hips.

"I am deadly serious. You are diminished. You wouldn't survive the journey."

"That is my decision, Perseus. You can't make it for me."

"I can, and I have. I have already given instruction to the guards to keep you here until I have returned."

Rage bubbled to the surface of my skin. I pounced to my feet and shouted standing over him. "I am not your prisoner. You can't treat me this way."

"You are weakened," he repeated.

"Tell me, Perseus," I screamed. "Do I seem delicate in any fashion to you? I know my own limits. I am fine to continue on this quest. We started it together—"

"You're wrong!" He stood now, too, towering over my small frame. "I started this before you were even alive. It began without you, and it will finish that way."

Crackled, incoherent sounds were all I could manage before he stormed to the door.

"Perseus!"

His hand stilled on the handle, and he turned to face me.

"I won't forgive you if you do this."

"And I will have to bear your hatred if it means saving your life."

# Chapter 20

Hunched over a bowl of porridge, I sat alone at the table where we had all been gathered days ago. Perseus, Nikkias, and Homer had gone this morning to slay Medusa, and as promised, two guards were at my side at all times. They had been waiting at my door when I emerged from my room, and they followed me around like nursing calves chasing their mother's breasts.

I still had The Blade of The Serpent, only now it was tucked inside the seam of one of the black, knee-high boots I wore. Peering at the men through the side of my eyes, I wondered if I could take them down myself with it in hand.

One was a petite, short man, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in a firm, muscular core. The other was thick, stocky, and reminded me of a tree trunk. They did not appear to be particularly nimble or tough. I might have taken the chance if they did not both have a faint aura surrounding them that told me they were being protected by a magical shield. My knife could cut through it, but by the time I would have taken one out, the other surely would have me disarmed and subdued.

"Ugh." Athena materialized without warning. "They are feeding you porridge? Dreadful slop."

"It's not so bad," I lied, flashing her a weak smile.

"Nonsense! How can we expect you to regain your strength if your nutrients are completely inedible?"

"Really, Goddess. There is no reason to make a fuss. I have eaten far worse than porridge, believe me."

"Not in my kingdom, you haven't. Phillip!" she shouted shrilly, clapping her hands together twice.

He promptly appeared by her side, his precious rolled up parchment tucked under his arm. He presented her with a graceful bow I should have had the sense to give her.

"Yes, your highness," he said with the top of his head still pointed at her.

"I have told you a hundred times this cold, sticky swill is not even fit for my livestock, and you have served it to our guest?"

"My apologies, madam." His face was flat, annoyed, and insincere, but he dutifully lifted my bowl from in front of me to take it away.

"I'm sorry," I mouthed.

"Bring her something fresh. Something sweet."

"Yes, of course." He vanished again.

"So!" The goddess sat next to me with her chin perched on her fist, smiling brightly. Her close proximity made me feel self-conscious, and I covered my scar with my hand to hide it. "You had quite the adventure, I hear," she continued, politely ignoring my gesture. As a woman, she understood no amount of flagrantly untrue flattery would heal my pride, and I was relieved to be in the company of someone who wouldn't try.

"An adventure," I nodded. "Yes, you could call it that."

"How did it go with your father? Did he recognize you?"

"Not at first," I grinned, recalling his face when I revealed it to him. I wondered if he knew who my mother was. He had terrorized so many women, he had likely lost track of them all and would have no idea which one to place me with.

"Well, why should he have? You look nothing like him."

"Really? I thought I caught a small resemblance."

"Not at all, dear. Give yourself more credit. He is an awfully hideous-looking man. Though you do both seem to have some of the same mannerisms."

I winced, taking her words as an insult. He was a cruel, dictating man. I didn't like being compared to him in any sort of way. .

"Oh, no." Athena shook her head, realizing her mistake. "I only meant you are both very...closed off. Very difficult to get close to."

I hung my head in shame, and heat crept into my cheeks. She was right in her assessment of me. I felt terrible that I had applied my nasty habit of thinking of everyone as an enemy to her.

"I am sorry if I have come across as cold. You have done so much for me. The last thing I would want is to come across as ungrateful."

"Don't be silly!" She swatted at me. "You have been more open with me than anyone else, I suspect. Although it wasn't as if you had a choice in it."

I squinted at her. Having been so caught up in her knowing my secret at all, I had never gotten around to finding out how she knew it to begin with. Every god had a power of some sort, perhaps she could read minds.

"Are you telepathic?" I blurted out.

She laughed her sugary, feminine giggle that I grew more envious of every time I heard it. My laughed sounded like a pig snorting, even when I muffled it.

"Of course not," she squealed. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

"You knew," I said through pursed lips, a little embarrassed at my conjecture.

"I see." She tapped on the table with her finger nails and looked around the room at the guards. "I will explain in a moment."

Philip reappeared with a large bowl of berries and another, smaller cup of clotted cream.

"Will there be anything else, miss?" He sighed.

"Oh! They look delicious." Licking her lips, she eyed them with approval. "Nice and fresh."

The irony hit me with the force of a blow to the stomach, nearly toppling me out of my chair. My face flushed and the rolling waves that hit me turned my stomach. I swallowed back the sour taste rising in my mouth and breathed deep. The goddess wouldn't understand the silliness of my reaction, and I had no desire to attempt to explain it.

She shoved the bowls in front of me, and I graciously took a bite of a strawberry, tears swelling in my eyes as I savored the sweetness of it.

"Delectable, aren't they?" She beamed.

"Yes, they are. Thank you." I agreed.

"All right, then." Athena's tone turned hard and professional. "Ambrosia and I require privacy."

Philip wasted no time taking the opportunity to leave, but the guards glanced at each other unsure.

"Goddess," the large one protested. "We have been given orders to keep close watch on the girl."

"Orders by whom?" she snapped. "I do believe you are _my_ henchmen, yes?"

"Well...yes, of course."

"And since I have given you no such order, I am curious as to why you are here at all."

I pinched my lips together to keep from smiling at her condescension and their dumbstruck faces. Clearly, they feared the consequences of disobeying this tiny woman over whatever threat Perseus had thrown at them, and I felt proud of my friend for it.

The thick one glanced at the thin one and made a break for the door, and the small one followed close behind.

"Thank you." I sighed as if I had not breathed for weeks. "I might have gone crazy if they had followed me around another minute."

"That is just like Perseus, going to extremes. Now, you asked me how I knew you were Poseidon's daughter."

"I am more curious about how you knew Medusa was my mother," I admitted.

"One and the same story, dear." She waved me off. "Your mother and I were very close when she served for me. She was my lady-in-waiting, in fact. I couldn't bear the thought of her spending so much time alone. After she was sent to that terrible cave, I visited her often."

"Wait," I interrupted her. "I thought she would turn one to stone if she so much as blinked at them."

"Not quite," she explained. "Her curse was only to turn men to stone."

"So, she could see me, and it wouldn't hurt me at all?" My heart soared with excitement just before it crashed back to the ground. It did not matter anymore. She would be killed by nightfall, and I would never have the chance to know my mother at all.

"That's right," Athena confirmed, not realizing the importance was now lost. "After Perseus told me where he had left her child, I knew he had doomed himself. You see, The Fates and I have a history of sorts. They have helped me with things, and in return I have used my magic to conceal them from the world."

"What sort of things have they helped you with?" I was hesitant to ask, but my curiosity got the better of me.

"Locating people for the most part—nothing evil, I promise." She winked. "At any rate, I kept a very close eye on you. I watched you grow and thrive into the beautiful young woman you are now. I can't tell you how excited I was when I found you had taken up employment with my brother. I knew I was finally going to meet you. That is to say, I do wish you would have found a more wholesome way to get here, but Fate will weave its own web, I suppose."

"So you _did_ know my mother still lived?'

"Not at all. I do not even think The Fates knew as much. But Hercules has a particular eye for special things. I assumed he would bring you home to show off as his bride."

A pang of guilt struck my heart, and this time I couldn't push it down. It angered me that I felt it, though. I had nothing to feel guilty for. I had not led him on, and even if I had, he abandoned me when I needed him the most. He was the one with a cross to bear, not me.

"Where is Hercules?" I wondered out loud.

"He left late last night. He was upset about something. He usually is, though. The two of them, Perseus and Hercules, they always find a reason to soil a good thing."

"I've noticed." I rolled my eyes. "I'm curious. I know Perseus ruled Aetheopia by Princess Andromeda's side, and you have this glorious kingdom. How is it Hercules has found himself running a whore-house on the streets of Greece?"

"That was his choice." She shrugged. "And not a popular one, at that. Father offered him a seat by his side on Mount Olympus. He wanted them to rule together. But Hercules was never able to see the benefits of being a demigod. He always claimed that being a half-god was as useful as being a half-goat. What kind of fool compares himself to a disgusting satyr? He wanted to be one or the other, and between us, he has always had an addiction to the loins of mortal women. I suspect that is what led him to settle in that realm."

"He has no powers, then?"

"No magical powers to speak of, no. He is obviously gifted with great strength and bravery, as is Perseus. Though sadly, neither of them were given the great gift of intelligence."

"What truth you speak." I laughed. "But you have magic."

"I am not a demigod. I am a full god. That is why I rule in the supernatural realm, unlike Perseus who ruled in the mortal one."

"And who is watching over Aetheopia now that Perseus is gone from it?"

She bit her lip and her eyes saddened. "King Cepheus still rules over it. That is, Princess Andromeda's father. But he is becoming old and frail. I am not sure what will become of the city once he has passed. I fear it has been doomed to anarchy."

"Oh," I said quietly, not knowing what else to say.

"There is something that has been bothering me." The goddess leaned forward. "Why is it you are here and not with Perseus? I thought you were going to save my friend from yet another wretched blow from Fate."

The anger started building in my belly again.

"Perseus left without me and ordered your minions to keep me here," I complained. "He said he did not believe I was fit for the journey."

"That is strange." She rubbed her chin. "I did not take you for the type of woman who takes orders from a man—even if she loves him."

I blushed. "I did not wish to disgrace your kingdom by making mincemeat out of your brother or your guards."

"The guards take orders from me, Ambrosia. Your steed is waiting in my stable. Take Pegasus, and finish what you set out to do. Leave my guards to me. I will handle them. You have my permission to do what you will with Perseus."

"I'm afraid they have had too much of a head start." I made the excuse to keep myself from allowing another shred of hope into my heart. I had no idea where the entrance to her cave was, even if I had the time I wouldn't know where to go.

"Pluto's Gate is a day's journey by foot, but a short ride on a flying horse. You have plenty of time to catch them."

I stared at her, searching for a viable reason to say no. I still had no idea how I was going to stop them. I had already conceded I was not going to be able to kill them. The time would come when I would have to reveal myself, and I did not think that Perseus would ever be able to forgive me.

"Say I do rescue her," I babbled. "What then? She can't live in the open looking as she does."

"The water that you have collected from Poseidon's fountain reverses all magic, not just his own. If she drinks it, she will return to her former self."

My eyes grew wide. The temptation of having a mother, having a family, was too glorious to say no to. I would have to figure out what to do with Perseus when the time came, but there were more important things than love to consider. I wouldn't trade my mother's life for his affection.

I jumped to my feet and without saying a word, I flew from the room, down the stairs, and outside to the stables. Pegasus was already out of his stall and waiting for me in the field. I shouted my thanks to the goddess into the air and climbed on top of my brother.

He lifted us up, and I gripped his mane tightly. My stomach knotted with anxiety and excitement. The sun was mid-sky. I was running out of time.

# Chapter 21

Pluto's Gate was every bit as dreadful as it had been described in my studies. The entire area smelled of death and sulfur. I attempted to hide from it within the glorious white marble temple built in the name of the gods of the underworld, but even it couldn't provide a safe-haven from the putrid stench. The dry heat in the air was stifling and scratched at my throat. I found it curious that the temple was so warm when the rest of the world felt the chill of winter approaching.

Even from a hundred yards away, one could see the dense, green fog rising from the ground in front of the cave entrance. Twice I had watched a sparrow fly just a mite too close to the ground and fall to its death. Poseidon's magic was unimaginably powerful.

At the foot of a temple was a large, rectangular pool. I dipped a foot in to find the water was warm and surprisingly inviting despite the already sweltering heat. I entertained the idea of taking a quick swim, but thought better of it. It was said to be nothing more than a hot spring used by the priests for healing once upon a time, but without knowing if my father had put a curse on it as well, it had been foolish to touch it at all.

Pegasus stood watch in a field far away from the cave's entrance. He had not taken a drink from the fountain, and I would take no chances of losing him.

The sun was beginning to descend in the sky, and I was growing restless and bored. Even though I knew I had traveled much quicker than the men, part of me still worried perhaps they had somehow already arrived and were now deep inside the cave. I was contemplating going in after them. I had already swallowed my share of the elixir. The entryway wouldn't harm me. But then I recalled the monsters that were said to dwell inside, and the idea of facing them alone was altogether reckless, even by my standards.

"Do not get too close," Perseus warned from a distance. "We will have to take a drink before we get near the entrance."

They walked alongside the temple, and I hid behind a rafter. Somehow, in my own deep thoughts, I had missed their approach entirely.

"You have already had some, haven't you? Perhaps you should stick your head in and have a look for us," Nikkias teased.

"I have seen it already. There is nothing in there I wish to meet any sooner than necessary. Besides, the water does not last very long. It has likely been worked from my system with all the sweating I have done from this hike."

I exhaled a long breath, glad I had not gone in. The sweat from my fever probably washed it out of my body days ago.

"We should rest for the night," Homer said, sounding tired and out of breath. "We do not know what will be waiting for us on the other side."

"If the legends are true, then it certainly would be wise." I peeked out from behind my hiding place, dawning my trademark innocent grin at them as they jumped in fright.

"Dammit, Ambrosia!" Perseus' shout carried across the hills, but I did not let my cheerful glow fade. I had the surprise for once, and it was delightful. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you." I shrugged.

"How did you get away from the guards? I swear I will have both of their heads for this."

I sauntered casually to him and pressed my torso against his, wrapping my fingers around his tensed chin.

"One day, my love, you will learn who you are dealing with, and you will stop underestimating me."

The unspoken truth in my own statement made me frown and pull away. He would learn who I was by tomorrow at the latest. My time to be his incorrigible, sweet Ambrosia was ending. Soon, I would be his enemy.

"You are not even slightly concerned about the fate of those who have failed me because of your insubordination? I find that quite unlike you."

"Not at all," I said plainly. I truly was not. The goddess wouldn't let him punish them for not following the orders of someone who had no authority to give them.

"You are not coming with us," Perseus challenged.

"That's enough," Nikkias interjected, the blunt of his sharpness falling predominantly on Perseus. "We could sit and watch this spectacle all night, but we all know there is nothing you can do that is going to keep her from finding a way to come with us. You could tie her up, and she would find a way to break the binds."

"Fine," he seethed. "We will make camp behind the temple tonight, and we will use the extra time to devise a plan of attack."

We all gathered some wood and once a strong fire was blazing, we gathered around it. Perseus wouldn't look at me, and it tore me apart to know he was so angry.

"She will turn us to stone if she so much as looks at us," Homer said through bites of bread they had brought to eat for supper. "How will we get around that?"

"The same way Perseus did the first time," Nikkias offered.

"How did you accomplish it?" Homer asked Perseus.

"I hid behind my shield," Perseus admitted with a chuckle. "I jabbed between my bouts of cowardice. But I was on my own then. It would be too difficult for the three of us to coordinate such an effort. One would have to be covered while the other attacked, hoping she wouldn't turn before he could hide again. It would be too messy."

"She only turns men to stone," I interrupted them. "I could go in and distract her."

"Where did you hear that version of the tale?" Perseus raised a brow.

"From a friend." I looked at the ground, surprised he was the one to ask it. He was speaking to me again, even if it was to call what he seemed to think was a bluff.

"I have not heard that."

"Nor I," Nikkias added.

"Well, how many women have you heard of stupid enough to try to face her?" Homer wondered.

"Only one." Perseus set his eyes on me, sending heat creeping into my cheeks. "I don't know that there is any precedent for such a thing."

"If it's true, it would help us immensely," Homer said. "Ambrosia, you could enter first, lure her to the other side. She would follow you out of curiosity alone. She would wonder why you have not turned. And while she is inspecting you, we could come up from behind."

"That sounds well enough." I nodded. This plan would serve me better than he knew. While they were busy sneaking, I could warn her. She could prepare herself for the oncoming ambush.

_And then what?_ I couldn't let her turn them to stone, no matter how justified she would feel doing it. I would have to find some way to put myself between them. Perseus wouldn't hurt her if it meant hurting me. I could only hope Medusa's instincts as a mother would make her feel the same.

"It's too risky." Perseus shook his head. "I won't use you as bait. You are lucky I'm letting you join us at all."

"I'm lucky?" I mocked him. "Someone has given himself some unwarranted credit. There seems to be a bit of confusion around this, so let me make it clearer: you may have been the ruler of Aetheopia, but you are not my king."

A stunned silence fell over them all, and even I was surprised by the condescension that dripped from my words. I did not want to spend my last few hours arguing with him, but it was becoming glaringly clear the two of us did not know how to interact without throwing some kind of unnecessary turmoil into the mix.

This man drove me to the edge with every word he spoke, but despite the exasperation he filled me with, I would miss this. As soon as he was gone, I would long for our toxic, dysfunctional dynamic. There was a passion between us—a fire that made every single blow we threw at each other taste deliciously sweet. I wouldn't find that same excitement with anyone else, I was sure of it.

I stood in front of him, shoulders high and posture erect with my fists clenched at my sides, daring him to make a move. I wanted him to fight now. I needed just one more night to feel that passion.

I could have withered away when instead of playing along, he returned his attention to Homer and Nikkias, not gracing me with another word.

"I will enter first." He drew a map in the sand with a long stick to outline his plan. Nikkias would go right, and Homer would go left. Once she was surrounded, they would attack at once. I did not miss that I was left out of the arrangement entirely.

"We will need to enter as quietly as possible," Homer added unnecessarily. "The more surprise we have over her, the better our chances will be."

"She will know we are coming," Perseus stated. "She is but the last of many challenges we will face once we are inside. Prepare yourselves to see things even the most gruesome legends can't compare to. The cave is but one long tunnel, separated by several trials. She will hear us struggling from the very beginning."

I pouted at the revelation. That meant I had no way to get to her first.

A loud, high-pitched squawk filled the sky above us. The darkness was dense, and though we heard something move, we couldn't see even the slightest silhouette. Whatever it was, it was as dark as the starless night itself.

A thick rush of air descended on us, and Perseus jumped to his feet while simultaneously pulling a burning stick from the fire to use as a light source. He held it up.

A massive, scaled flying beast hovered above us. The two-headed horned dragon circled our camp. Sharp, blood-stained claws pretended to reach for us each time the thing passed by. The creature was playing a game, trying to scramble its prey. But we stood frozen, too frightened to run or fight.

"The Amphisbaena." Perseus and I both marveled at it.

"What in Hades is that?" Homer shouted.

"Get in the temple!" Nikkias screamed, and we dashed into the structure with the creature's breath hot on our necks. The temple, though massive, was too small for the thing to fit into. I gave a premature sigh of a relief, thinking we were safe.

The thing's claws scratched on the roof trying to get in, threatening to send the entire structure crumbling down around us. A beak from one of his heads pecked in between the rafters, nearly taking off my hand in its mouth. Perseus pulled me close, and I clung to his chest.

The creature tried to pull it back out, but its head was too big. It wouldn't fit back through. His head was stuck, and the beast squawked in pain with each unsuccessful yank that rattled the foundation of the temple. It wouldn't hold much longer, and I would be damned if I would stand there watching it fall.

Reaching down, I pulled Perseus' sword from his scabbard and brought it down hard into the creature's neck. The blade sliced through its muscle, and with a little added force its neck snapped entirely under the pressure, detaching from the rest of the body. One decapitation was all that was required. The rest of the Amphisbaena crashed to the ground, dead.

Blood speckled my white tunic and my arms. Pretending to be unaffected, I casually handed Perseus back his sword.

The disbelief plastered on his face was a priceless picture mirrored by the other men. I wiped my arms, but that only smeared the blood around.

"How is that for delicate?" I breathed. "Where is the canteen?"

Perseus pulled it from his bag, and I took a deep swing and passed it around.

"Are we going?" Homer looked to Perseus with fearful eyes.

"I was not planning for us to head in until morning," Perseus complained.

"Well, I'm not waiting around here for more beasts to come to me," I said with finality in my voice. "I would rather go to them. You do what you want."

Stepping over the beast, I made my way to the cave's entrance. Their footsteps followed close behind. I hid a smirk. I would bet Perseus had had no intention of following a woman inside when he woke this morning.

My pace slowed considerably the closer I came to the green fog. The smell intensified, and I pinched my nose to block it out at least a little.

"Do you want me to go first?" Nikkias asked.

I shook my head, held my breath and took one, large stride over the threshold.

# Chapter 22

I cleared the entrance by a great deal before I allowed myself a sharp inhale, filling my lungs again with what I could only hope was clean air. Pitch black, soul-rattling darkness surrounded me. I couldn't see the ground, but an instinct told me to stop short and wait for Perseus' light to come to me.

I craned my neck and could see. The dim torch approached slowly from behind, and surrounding it were the three shadows of my cowardly comrades huddled together, inching closer.

"You should not get ahead of us," Perseus whispered once he was close enough.

"Yes, Father." I rolled my eyes and turned back around.

My face drained when I saw what I had almost stepped into. It was a dark, bottomless river. The memories of nearly drowning in the well fell hard onto my chest, and then recalling almost falling prey to the liquid again when the ship sunk added weight.

I was breathless, cold, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to run back outside. I had never been afraid of water before, and even the pool outside stirred nothing inside of me. Perhaps it was because this was a natural formation at the mercy of Poseidon.

_No_. I shook my head furiously. I wouldn't let him win. I wouldn't let him haunt me for the rest of my days.

"What are you doing?" Perseus demanded as I lifted my foot to put it defiantly into the water.

"Taking a swim, it seems." I tried to hide the uncertainty in my voice.

"You can't swim across. Do you not know what that is?"

"It's a river."

"It's the river Styx!"

I snapped my foot back and took a long step backward, away from the bank. We had been in here a matter of minutes, and I had almost ended our journey already.

This was the river that separated the underworld from the mortal realm. Every passing soul had to take a ferry across to reach the afterlife. The water under it was filled with soul-snatchers just waiting to devour a spirit that fell into it. I shuddered at the thought. It was said to be the most painful fate one could experience, and worst yet, it lasted for an eternity.

But I was not a soul. I was a human who still had her shell. It was possible nothing at all would happen to me. I took the torch from Perseus, lifted it over the water to have a better look, and instantly regretted doing it.

The soul-snatchers lurked at the surface, greedily waiting for one of us to make a careless move. They were long, thin, snakelike creatures with glowing green eyes and teeth resembling needles protruded over their jaws as an overbite. Thousands of them spanned the entire river—at least as far as my light could illuminate.

I picked up a small rock and tossed it in. The splash created a frantic feeding frenzy among them. They gave no thought to tearing each other to pieces to find the source of the noise.

Bits of meat now floated around, mingling with the mangled corpses of the weaker snatchers. Blood filled the water. I had to choke back a gag. If I had stepped just an inch more before Perseus had come, that would have been my flesh floating about.

"They are Hydras," Perseus explained.

"Soul-snatchers," I argued.

"They are one and the same."

"I thought Hydras had several heads? And they aren't supposed to be aquatic."

I remembered reading about the creatures in my studies, and these matched no such description. Hercules boasted his fame on conquering the Hydras that roamed Greece, and even he never said anything about whatever these were. I would almost rather face the five-headed land-dweller from his stories than these things.

"That is the mortal version. Things have a way of mutating down here. Even the fiercest creatures on earth can't compare to the meekest in these caves."

While it was no small feat to conquer such a beast, I couldn't deny that one land hydra couldn't compare an entire school of the breed in front of me.

"How are we going to cross?" Homer asked.

"We have to wait for Charon, the ferryman."

"But Perseus," I protested. "Charon will only take us to the underworld. I do not think my— Medusa is being kept there, is she?"

"No, she is not." Thankfully, Perseus missed my near slip. "She is kept in a hidden chamber."

"Then how will we get to her?"

"Charon's route generally spans across two rivers, this one and then Acheron. That is the path the newly departed take. I will give the ferryman an extra coin, and instead of connecting with Acheron, he will take us to the Harpies dwelling."

Nikkias, Homer, and I all gasped at once.

"The Harpies?" I squealed much louder than I meant to. "You can't be serious. They will rip us to pieces. We would be better off facing these mutant Hydra!"

"It's the only way to her chamber." Perseus shrugged. "I warned all of you this wouldn't be simple. Did you think we were going to have a picnic?"

We all sat silently for a moment, more out of embarrassment than anything else. Like Homer and Nikkias, I was not sure what I'd expected to encounter here. Perhaps some ghouls or a distempered Cerberus. Anything but Harpies.

They were fair-faced spirit women with the bodies of dragons. Armed with every weapon known to mankind, unimaginable speed, and dangerous intelligence. Fighting with a dumb beast was one thing—they could easily be outsmarted and often made mistakes that led to their own undoing, not unlike the Amphisbaena that was slain outside. But going to battle with an enemy holding the strength of a god, the flight of a bird, _and_ the wits befitting of the greatest warrior? It was suicide.

"If Perseus managed on his own, surely we can figure it out together." Nikkias reasoned.

"How did you do it?" Homer asked him.

Perseus flashed his wicked grin, and even in the perilous underworld my heart danced.

"I did not require weapons." He winked at me. "They are vicious warriors, but they are still women."

"And what does _that_ mean?" I demanded with warming cheeks.

"It means a bit of flattery is all it takes."

"Oh, for Hades sake!" I groaned.

"It's true!" Perseus insisted. "They are left alone here for eternity with no men to keep them company. They are lonely. I used that to my advantage, that's all. It's often not about physical strength." He pointed to his temple with a finger. "You need to find their weakness. And there is no weakness of one's body that can compare to the weakness in their mind."

"Why don't you try that logic out on Medusa, and let us know how it turns out for you," I snorted, irritated by his unflattering characterization of women.

His philosophy was egotistical, ridiculous, and just plain stupid. Only a man would think he is so incredible that a woman would be driven to the mercy of her loins by his words. He had grossly mixed up the two genders in that regard.

Still, I had to admit the two of us were far too much alike. I had used my appeal to get what I wanted from men since I'd begun developing breasts, and he did the same with his silver tongue. I was as bad as he was, if I really thought about it.

A bell rang in the distance, and the sound of its deep brass echoed off the cave, making it impossible to place a direction. Perseus seemed to know the source, though. And he secured his bag to his back and pulled two gold coins from his pocket. I read into his actions; Charon was coming.

"Let me do the talking," he instructed.

"Oh, are you old friends?" I teased.

"Not exactly. He will probably be very unhappy to see me."

"Funny, your charm did not work on him?"

He only glared back at me, and I took the cue to quiet myself before he snapped at me. A domestic quarrel in front of the undertaker. I had to smile at the thought.

The ferry came into view first, if it really could be called that. A dozen or so large planks were connected together by very thin, aging fibers that looked as though they could break apart at any moment.

Perched on the back of it was a figure entirely robed in a black cloak that could be lost in the background. White, skeletal finger clasping the vessel's oar were all I could see of the captain's body. I could only imagine the rest of his body matched. He would have no skin, no organs, or muscle. Only bone.

It should have frightened me if I had any sense, but I was more concerned about the rickety boat collapsing from under us, sending us to the soul-snatchers eagerly waiting for such a misfortune.

"Will it hold all of us?" I whispered in Perseus' ear as to not alarm the others.

"We can only hope," he said in a disconcerting tone that said he worried about it as well.

"Well, I suppose if we are going to catch our death, we are in a good place for it," I added dryly.

"Shhh," he hissed.

The ferryman pulled up to the bank, his hooded head turned to Perseus. I wondered if he had eyes underneath his hood. He must. His stare was setting Perseus ablaze, and the heat of it struck my body from nearly a foot away. He couldn't exhibit such an unspoken hatred if he did not have eyes to send it with.

Holding out the coins in his palm, Perseus stepped forward. Charon let him linger, making no advancement to accept it. The air chilled around us.

"I told you last time I wouldn't allow you to cross again." Charon's voice was deep and raspy. "Not even your immortal soul is welcome here."

I did not know the ferryman could even talk, and it occurred to me he was pulling the energy from the air around us to manage it. That explained why the temperature dropped just before he spoke.

"I remember it." Perseus' voice was firm and without hesitation, showing no weakness. "But you are a business man as well, as I recall."

"And you offer two golden coins to show it?"

"You fee is generally but one."

"You are asking me to break my vow against you, and give passage to four mortals for two coins? And I am sure you are wanting to take your previous detour?"

"That's right. I came to finish what I started."

"The one you seek has suffered enough at your hands. I won't be a party to any more of it. However, I will permit the woman to pass."

Perseus turned sharply to look at me, confused and searching for an explanation.

"You can't have her!" He growled and stepped in front of me, offering himself as a shield.

"I do not _want_ her," Charon retorted. "But Medusa will. And she will compensate me greatly for it."

"Why would that beast want her?"

"That is not for me to say. What do you say, Ambrosia?"

"How do you know my name?" I gasped.

"Our souls have met before. But you know that, don't you?"

I cocked my head to the side, concentrating on his figure, probing at my memory to find him in it. I couldn't place him, but I expected if Perseus made it out of the cave with me as an infant, I had met him during crossing.

I ran his offer through my head. It would be perfect if it were not for the Harpies. I could remove myself from the group, find my mother, and return with her on my own with no need for bloodshed. Though if he knew who I was, perhaps the Harpies did as well. My fear of them quickly overrode the slight possibility.

"I won't proceed without my friends," I insisted.

Charon left no room for negotiation when he began to paddle away from us, and my heart began to race. I might have just given up my only chance at crossing. I opened up my mouth to call him back, but before I could Perseus shouted at him.

"Wait!"

He took his bag from his shoulder and pulled out a small satchel like the one he had used to pay Chrysayor. He tossed it across the water, landing it on the raft just in front of the ferryman.

Charon picked it up, weighed it in his boney hand, and his hood slowly nodded up and down. He redirected his oar and brought the ferry back for us to board.

The four of us stood looking at one another, each of us not daring to be the first one to brave the stability of it. Finally, Perseus stepped onto the board floor, pulling me by the hand close behind.

It tipped under our weight and wobbled exaggeratedly with each step we took. I stopped us in the center of it, refusing to go any closer to any of the edges, strategically placing Perseus between Charon and myself. Homer and Nikkias tip-toed on next as we all crowded around the center for dear life.

The ferryman pushed us off the bank with his oar causing water to slosh up the sides from the extra weight. Souls were weightless, at least that's what I had always imagined. It was safe to assume this boat had never been tested under such strain.

We sailed down a tunnel until we came to a fork in the river. The tide traveled to the left, the water on the right was deadly still. The underworld was devoid of life, so the Acheron River must be the water to the right. My suspicions were confirmed as we stayed course to the left, riding the current farther into the cave.

"Why did he banish you?" I asked Perseus in a hushed voice.

"I sunk his last boat." He choked back a laugh.

My eyes grew wide. "You did what? How did you manage that?"

If Charon could hear us, he did not indicate as much. He kept his watch straight ahead, eyeing his still invisible destination.

"It wasn't my fault. Just after I slayed Medusa, her fresh blood was corrosive. I still have the scar, see?" He held out his left hand, and I ran my fingers along the rough, raised skin on the top of it. "It ate right through the bottom of his boat and sank it."

"With you still on it?" My skin crawled at the idea of him swimming with the creatures underneath us.

"No, it held until I got to shore. I noticed it slowly burning through the wood, but I said nothing to him, fearing he would head toward the nearest land and leave me stranded."

"Oh." I smiled with relief.

"It was much larger than this one, but Hades wouldn't replace it. He was left to build his own."

"Well, no wonder he is cross. You could have helped him, you know. It was your doing."

"Ready yourselves." Perseus' voice grew louder, commanding the attention of the others. "We are approaching."

# Chapter 23

I hurried off the unstable raft and was grateful for the firm dirt underneath my feet. We had made it across the river, and as much as I was dreading facing the Harpies, the idea of stepping foot back on that vessel worried me even more. Perseus' palm found the small of my back, and he urged me forward.

The chamber we were in now had openings in the ceiling that provided a good amount of light. We did not need the torch, but Perseus did not extinguish it, so I assumed we would need it again later. Green and blue minerals sewn into the walls flickered as the sunlight hit it, casting a glorious light show onto the ground where we walked.

I eyed each crevice carefully, listening close for any sign Harpies were hiding inside of them. Deafening silence filled the air. My body tensed with anticipation with each step I took.

"You may breathe," Perseus said lightly. "We have one trial to pass before we meet the winged demons."

I released a sharp exhale as relief swelled into my muscles. "I thought you said this was the Harpies' chamber?"

"It is," he confirmed. "But there is another chamber within this one that separates us."

"You might have mentioned that," Nikkias complained. "I had prepared myself to battle the wenches."

"Nikkias," I squeezed his hand and looked at him thoughtfully. "Are you all right?"

His tone was uncharacteristically short, and to hear him use the term wench struck me as troubling. His face was dripping with sweat, even in the brisk, damp air. The stress must have gotten to him.

"I'm fine," he snapped. "I am just eager to get this over with."

"I think we all are." Homer placed a firm pat on his friend's shoulder.

We came to a narrow archway that opened into a large, blindingly bright chamber. One of us would barely fit at a time. I stepped into it first, flattening my body against the wall to squeeze through. Once I reached the other side, the ground shook. The tremors only lasted a moment, but the force was enough to cause me to stumble. Panic washed over me as I attempted to regain my footing. I flinched at a sound from behind me: clinking metal, as if two swords had just met.

I turned around quick, my ears ringing from fear. Perseus stood on the other side of the archway, pounding his fists into an invisible force that now separated me from him and the others. Somehow, when I'd entered, a magical barrier had been erected between us. They were trapped outside, and I was caged in. The rumbling started again, and I whipped my body around, fearing the worst.

"Ambrosia!" Perseus' voice could hardly be heard over the shaking earth. But the tremors settled again just as sudden as they started.

I faced Perseus with tears in my eyes. "Perseus!"

"Listen to me." He used his calm voice to quell the panic rising in me. The sound was still muffled by the force between us, but I could manage to make out his words. "It's the Chamber of Reflection. When you make it through to the other side, the barrier will lift and I can come to you."

I had not heard of such a chamber before, and it infuriated me that he had let me go ahead without warning. I had to remind myself that when he was here before, he'd come alone. He couldn't have known we would be separated. He had planned on facing this with me. I breathed in deep to catch my breath and willed back my courage to press on.

"What if I can't make it across?"

"You will," he urged. "You will be bombarded with images of terrible things. Mirrors will reveal things about yourself you hide from the world. Keep walking, Ambrosia. Do not let the visions consume you."

"What is on the other side?"

"Nothing that won't wait for me to come to you. Hurry, my love. I will get to you. I give you my word."

I nodded solemnly and stepped forward, with bile bubbling in my stomach.

The room was so bright because it was indeed filled from top to bottom with hundreds of small mirrors that surrounded me. They bounced light from the open ceiling between one another, lighting up the entire room. The chamber's exit was but a sprint away. I kept my eyes fixed on it until a crash to my right stole my concentration.

Instinctively, I jerked my neck toward the sound, expecting to see a Harpie that had made its way into this part of the cave. A Harpie would have been a welcomed sight, for what was there was a ghastly slap of reality.

A full-body mirror hovered in the air, and despite remembering Perseus' words I couldn't tear my stare away from it. The creature reflecting back at me was a hideous beast that had my face and form. It wore the same flashy, bright-red knee length tunic that I did. I could even see the handle of the knife that stuck out of the top of my boot.

But instead of golden hair tied tightly up, the thing looking back at me had tangled serpents sticking out from her skull and ashy skin that was peeling away in strips. Her eyes were soulless and hardened. She had never known love. My heart yearned to reach out and touch her. I wanted to console her, even though I hated her and that part of me she brought to the surface. I was half-beast, and she was mocking me with that truth.

My heart twisted. I clutched my chest. Every single fear I knew rushed at me at once through an invisible conduit from my mirrored self, emptying straight into my mind. I was not afraid of dying here. My fear of the Harpies was superficial and insignificant. What terrified me most was the choice I would be faced with on the other side.

I had never known love before Perseus. Not from a parent, a family, or least of all from a man. I had found it, and now I would have to give it back again so soon. He could never love the beast hiding under this betraying flesh.

The only thing that saved me from my trance was the realization that Perseus might be witnessing what I really was from where he stood. He would find out in time, but I couldn't let it be like this. Glancing over in his direction, I was comforted when I saw him shouting at me from the other side.

I could no longer hear him, but his lips were easily read. He was calling my name, pushing me to fight past whatever haunted me in this room. He had my attention now, and I savored the smile that now tightened his cheeks in relief. He had called me from my own destruction. Saving me once again.

I bit my lip to keep me in the present. Closing my eyes, I hurried in a straight line to the exit with my arms stretched out in front of me to feel for obstructions. My fingertips touched a squishy formation and I squinted through my lashes just well enough to see it was another barrier in the exit's archway.

This barrier was not solid though, and the viscous gel dissolved under the heat of my skin. I held my breath and dove into it, stepping through the other side. I emerged slimy and sticky, but alive. I had done it. I faced what was meant to break me, and I survived it...thanks to Perseus.

He was next to brave the Chamber of Reflections, and the ground quaked again, bringing down the barrier on his side to remind him of it. I wondered what he would see in his own reflection, if it would be same as his last venture through. Would he see the husband who failed his wife? The attempted assassin of an innocent maiden?

Or would the image reveal to him the honest truth of what he was? The Perseus I knew and loved so dearly. The blessed hero who helped his mother, his beloved, and Homer. The blissfully ignorant warrior who was leading a traitor to rescue his guiltless enemy.

I stared thoughtfully at the mirrors surrounding him for a clue, but from where I stood, I saw no reflection in them at all. They were vacant. Void of even his mortal image. He was much stronger than I was. He rushed through the passageway without giving in to the temptation.

It only took him a moment to reach me. His body sliced through the thick-liquid barrier, and his hands found me before the rest of him cleared it. He kissed me hard and pulled me into his chest. We paid no mind the stickiness between our bodies. We were together again, and that was what mattered.

Nikkias was the next to pass. We watched on, captivated by the confidence with which he casually strolled through, as if nothing unusual was taking place. He even glanced at his reflection and flashed himself a smug grin. He had no doubt in himself at all. He was comfortable with the choices he had made, and he apologized to nobody for them. Not even himself.

For the first time, it occurred to me I knew nothing at all about this traveler who had been so kind to me, other than he was a sorcerer. I did not know if he was married or had children. He was a good man. An honorable and moral man. I had not met another man quite like him before. How had a man like him found himself wandering around Greece with Perseus in search of monsters?

He slipped through the second barrier and frowned at the mess the cave had made of his clothes. "It's disgusting," he groaned.

"How do you think Homer will fare?" Perseus asked with a worried expression.

Nikkias shook his head. "Will we be able to go after him? Does this side become solid as well?"

"I do not know. With any luck, we won't have to find out."

There was something foreboding in their voices. Homer had never seemed to me to be a weak man, but the way these two seemed so concerned, I thought there might be more to him than I knew.

"Why should he not make it?" I couldn't help but ask.

"He makes no secret of his regrets," Nikkias said. "They eat at him a little every day."

Thinking back to our conversation where he had revealed that Perseus helped him save his daughter, I suddenly wondered why he was not with her now. He said once she was safe he pledged himself to Perseus. Where had she gone, now that he was Perseus' shadow?

I watched him step into the chamber at a slow, frightened pace. He made no effort at all to avoid the mirrors fixed on him. His feet stopped moving toward us, and his body turned a full circle in place. Homer was surrounded by the truth he did not want to face. It enclosed him, held him prisoner.

"Did you not tell him not to look?" I shrieked.

"I did!" Perseus insisted.

"Then what is he doing?"

We watched helplessly as Homer was overcome with guilt. Regret barreled into him until he was a sobbing, broken man reduced to his knees.

Nikkias was the first one to react. He raised his fist and threw it down into the divider, expecting it to flow through the way it had when he entered. Instead, his own arm bounced back to him, hitting him in the face. Perseus tried to stick his sword inside without any luck.

"Damn it!" he shouted. "Homer! Homer, snap out of it!"

I growled in frustration and kicked my leg at the barrier, which slipped right through just as easily as I had the first time. Stunned, I looked back at Perseus for an explanation.

He ran his fingers along the seam where my body was melded with the gelatinous mass. It wouldn't give for him. I tried to proceed through, but he caught my wrist that was still on his end. Half of me belonged to this cave. I was not bound to the rules that applied to the outsiders.

"No, Ambrosia." He tried to drag me back in. "You can't go. I won't allow you to risk yourself."

For a moment, I considered retreating to Perseus' arms, but then I thought of Homer's little girl. If she was waiting for him and he perished here, I couldn't live with myself, knowing I'd done nothing to stop it.

"Let me go," I demanded, wrenching my arm free.

I ran to Homer and shook him as hard as I could. "Homer, we need to go."

From the corner of my eye, I saw her. A tiny, lost little girl that clutched tearfully to her father's leg, begging him not to go. Homer's cheeks were drenched in salty sweat and tears. His eyes were vacant and glazed. His body was here, but his mind was fixed on the past.

My heart ached for the both of them, but especially the little girl. I knew what it felt like to cry for my parents. To spend my nights wishing with all of my might they were there to tuck me in. It was not fair.

I couldn't let myself dwell on it. Not now. Now when I was so close to achieving what I spent my life training for. I put myself between him and the mirror, cupping his face with my hands.

"Listen to me, Homer. She is not real. Do not allow the magic to deceive you this way."

He blinked hard at my interruption, and his breathing quickened. Looking around he recalled the circumstances we were in. His face said he wanted to move, but he did not have the power to leave this place. I took his hand in mine and guided him out, staring only at Perseus' furious eyes.

# Chapter 24

"What in Hades were you thinking?" Any relief Perseus had felt knowing I was safe was pushed aside, overpowered by his outrage over my defiance.

"I was saving your comrade!" I shouted. "Would you have preferred I did nothing? What was your brilliant plan, Perseus?"

He pinched his lips into a thin line, looking as if he was dying to come back with a scathing retort. He said nothing, though. There was nothing he could say that would be of any use.

"That's what I thought." I gave a sharp nod, claiming victory.

"You will give us notice next time, won't you?" Nikkias snapped at Perseus. "It would have been good to know ahead of time what we were to face."

"Would it have sounded as serious as it was?" Perseus returned the sarcasm. "Imagine if I had said you would come to a cave full of mirrors and you would see the worst images you could imagine looking back at you. Would you have understood the significance?"

"He was expecting to experience it with us," I offered in his defense. "Perseus couldn't have known of the barriers. He did not travel with friends on his previous journey, remember?"

My explanation did little to soothe the temper tantrum boiling up inside of Nikkias. Even a saint has its limits. I feared Nikkias was coming close to his edge. My only hope was to divert his attention to something more pressing.

Homer rested quiet on a flat sheet of broken limestone, staring at the dirt. I nodded in his direction to alert the others. His face was pale, and beads of sweat dripped from his hair. He made out the worst out of all of us. The Chamber of Reflection had taken his spirit clean from his heart.

I knelt beside him. "Homer, it wasn't real."

"It's not called the Chamber of Lies, Ambrosia." He shook his head. "It was real. Every damn thing we saw in it was real."

I couldn't argue with him. My vision was just as truthful as his was. I couldn't deny it. I took hold of the collar of his shirt and pulled him to me to kiss his forehead.

"What was her name?"

"Lilith." The very mention of her caused him to sob into his hands.

"Lilith," I repeated. "It's a beautiful name. Tell me about her."

"We don't have time for—"

I raised my hand to cut Perseus off and smiled at Homer, silently asking him to continue.

"She is thirteen now," Homer mused. "She just had a birthday. I promised her I wouldn't be gone long. That was three years ago."

"At least your regret can be remedied when we return."

The reminder renewed a bit of his fight. The only way he could return to her was by pressing forward. The realization gave him the motivation to continue. He wiped his brow and pulled his long sword from its scabbard as he stood.

"The Harpies?" he asked Perseus.

"Straight ahead." Perseus pointed down a tunnel and led the way.

The rest of us fell in line, each with our own swords drawn—or in my case, a dagger. We heard them before we saw them. The noises coming from their chamber resembled a swarm of bees, and once we caught the first glimpse of one, I realized the sound suited them well.

They were waiting for us. A dozen of them were prepared to do battle. Hovered in the air in attack formation, the Harpies surrounded the entryway. Each had a spear in her hands, raised and ready to send it raining down on us.

My books had not done them justice. They were beautiful women from top to torso, with only their feet and wings setting them apart from myself. Dry, scaled legs with clawed toes were curled at the knee and tucked under their bottoms. Glorious, colorful wings fanned behind them and fluttered with such speed they sent the air buzzing off the walls.

We stepped forward, careful not to make any quick movements. The army circled us in an instant, effectively cutting off any route of escape. I glanced back the tunnel we just emerged from, a pile of bones licked clean sat in the corner of it. My heart raced even faster than it already was.

"Now would be a good time to use that charm you boasted about," I quipped to Perseus.

He nodded in agreement, and I realized he was actually going to try to flirt his way out of this. I did not know if I should be terrified or mortified for him.

"I would like to see Lysa," he shouted over the noise of their wings. "If you would be so kind," he added with his famous knee-weakening grin.

I thought he had lost his mind until a woman came down from a hole in the ceiling. She had silk black hair that bobbed at her pink, glittery cheeks. Her olive complexion blended with the tan fabric of her strapless dress.

"Perseus," she said knowingly.

"It's good to see you again, Lysa."

"And you brought friends this time?" Her voice was soft and airy in a way that calmed you from the core.

"I did. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Her brown eyes twinkled at him. "We seldom get company."

"Um..." Nikkias chewed on his lip as if it would help make sense of what was happening. "Excuse me, miss. But I was under the impression you did not enjoy visitors."

"Why would you think such a thing?" She gasped at the insinuation.

"Well, the poor lad in the corner for one." He jerked his head toward the skeleton I noticed earlier.

"Oh that?" She giggled. "That was purely self-defense. What else would you have us do when you mortals come charging in, chopping at us with your blades without even saying hello?"

Nikkias nodded to indicate the point was well taken.

"Lysa," Perseus said. "Could we trouble you to pass?"

"Certainly, but...such a short visit? It has been some time. Perhaps we could...catch up."

"I would love to, my dear. And we will. Just as soon as I have fulfilled my purpose on the other side."

I watched the way she eyed him so possessively, and my cheeks burned in response. Whatever spell he cast on this one the last time they met still had a grip on her. I slid my fingers into his, pressing my weight into him to make it clear he was mine.

Lysa's gaze dropped to my gesture. "What is this, Perseus?"

He darted me an angry look before he pushed me aside. "It's nothing. She is only frightened."

"Is that so?" She was asking me.

My ego got the better of me. I shook my head with a challenging, arched brow. "I am not afraid of you."

"Oh. Well that is a pity."

She did not wait for Perseus to reconcile. Instead, she pointed her spear straight at me and issued a battle cry. Her scream was mimicked by the others as they dove at us.

Before she could pursue it, I grabbed the sharp end of her stick, using the leverage to flip her from the air and over onto her back side. I stomped my boot into her chest, pried her weapon from her hands and turned it on her.

"Call them off," I demanded.

"Never!" she spat.

From the corner of my eye, Perseus kicked away a Harpie while he sliced at another. Homer backed himself against a wall and took down any that came near him, but he did not charge after them directly. Nikkias did not fare as well—he was surrounded. He looked to be the oldest, so they had pegged him to be the weakest, therefore the first to be taken down. Why did he not use his magic?

I drove the spearhead into Lysa's heart and twisted it. I did not allow myself to watch her die. Satisfaction would have to wait. My dagger would do me no good here with my enemy being so close, so I used the Harpies' own weapon against them.

I swept the stick across the flesh of two of them that encircled Nikkias to draw them away. They wasted no time turning on me, leaving Nikkias room to maneuver his attacks more effectively.

I deflected a jab from one, along with a second. The other took me from my flank. I dodged her, but not before the tip of her spear grazed my skin. I ignored the burn and hit one with the blunt end before I stabbed the other. Another Harpie came up from behind me, and I yanked the weapon free from the corpse to bring it back into her.

Nikkias and Perseus cleared their assailants. Fallen Harpies littered the ground, swimming in their own pools of blood. The few that were left descended on Homer, focusing on the fool who had left himself no way out of the wall they had formed around him.

"Homer!" I screamed, foreseeing the tragedy that was about to happen.

The three of us rushed to reach him before she issued the ending blow. We were not quick enough. It was too late. His mouth filled with blood, and it gurgled from his lips.

His sword had been raised high to block their discharges. He did not see the Harpie that had the sense to drive her lance below it and into his gut.

As Homer's lifeless body dropped to the ground, a rage I had never before witnessed built in Perseus' face. Before the proud Harpies even turned to see us, he sliced his sword into the neck of the one who had killed his friend, severing her head.

With ease, I took down my own, and Nikkias terminated the final two.

Perseus was not done. He stood over the decapitated remains and stabbed her over and over, expelling his madness with each piercing of her flesh. He cursed and grunted from the force. His face was freckled with her blood. It became clear he was stuck in a loop that wouldn't end unless someone intervened.

Nikkias grappled him to the ground, away from the Harpie, while I removed the sword from his grip. We sat in a bundled mass, crying together in mourning for our friend.

The blame was my own. If I had only controlled my pride and kept my hands to myself this war would have never begun. I could have let her believe she was special to him. We could have breezed through here without incident. Homer would still be alive if it wasn't for my own self-centered need to have Perseus all to myself.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

Perseus read the guilt and wiped a tear away. "You do not take this on yourself. Homer would have hated knowing as much."

It pained me to look at him. I did not deserve the tenderness he was showing me. Homer's daughter would never again see her father, all because of a deceitful harlot.

"You're a mess," I sniffled. I reached for the dress of a nearby Harpie and tore off a piece of fabric to clean the blood from his face.

Nikkias was the first to stand. Again, he looked atypically anxious and edgy. No longer did his face show his sadness for his friend. Now, it twitched and twisted, as if he was searching for words. Perseus' sword was still clutched in Nikkias' fist, his own in its place at his side. He paced the chamber.

"What else will we find between us and Medusa?" he inquired.

"Nothing." Perseus stretched his sore neck. "She is just beyond that entryway."

"Right." Nikkias' stride turned into a nervous hop. He pointed Perseus' blade the two of us. "Then this is as far as you both will go."

# Chapter 25

From our knees, we looked up at him in stunned silence. Nikkias' face held an unwavering determination laced with regret. Whatever he was doing, he was not doing it because he wanted to. It was a necessary evil for him.

"Nikkias, have you gone mad?" Perseus glared at him. He could do little more than taunt without his sword.

"I'm sorry for this," Nikkias choked. "Truly I am. But I can't allow you to continue. I must find her alone."

"But she will turn you to stone," I pointed out. "At least let _me_ come with you. I can distract her while you—"

"Do not say it!" he interjected. "I can't stand to hear one of you say it again."

I couldn't understand what was happening here. He was turning on Perseus, the man he had followed to death and back countless times. I realized then he had been using Perseus just the same as I had. He was using his friend to get himself here, to the doorstep of the most fearsome creature known to man. But why? There was no glory to be had in this deceit.

He wouldn't hear me speak of killing her, either. Was it his plan to bring her back to Greece alive to use as a weapon? Greece was at war with no other country as it stood. That couldn't be it. Unless he planned on using her the way Perseus had. Perhaps he needed her powers to free someone.

"Why are you doing this, Nikkias? What do you have to gain from it?" I imagined betrayal broke through my voice. The crushing feeling was too powerful to hide.

"I do not expect you to understand it. The both of you have nothing but blood-lust consuming your minds. You are no better than the Harpies you just helped to massacre. There are more important things than adventure or reputation."

His guilt vanished and gave way to a condescension as sharp as the blade he brandished. From what he knew of me, I was nothing more than a whore who had been cooped up too long. I probably appeared to be searching for a cure to my boredom, for an escapade at the expense of the life of someone who had done me no wrong.

The disapproving glint in his eye filled me with shame heavy enough to sink me to the bottom of the River Styx. I thought about revealing myself to him. I wanted to explain he had me entirely wrong.

Somehow, I thought lifting the shroud would earn me very little favor. It was not much better to say I was a liar who seduced a man only with the intent of killing him once he was of no further use to me.

Oh, Perseus. His distant gaze couldn't mask the hurt he was feeling. This man that he trusted, the same comrade he fought beside for such a long time had just turned his back on him. Any explanation at all would be enough to ease his suffering even a little, but Nikkias made it clear he would offer none. His unwillingness to squelch the burn molded my shame into anger, and I turned on him.

"Do not address me as if you are so much better," I seethed. "You are not worthy of such pious self-worth. You turned against the only man who has not condemned you for what you are. Sorcerers are known to be wicked. Remember what you said? Neither he nor I have ever treated you any different than our mortal equals. You do not get to preach to us about morals, Nikkias. You are not in a position to claim authority there."

He did not respond to my rant with words, but his shoulders lowered, and his eyes frosted over in a way that resembled a scolded child. My point was taken. My words hit him just as strong as his had me.

"If you follow me, I will kill you." His voice was shaky and unconvincing. He pivoted on his heels, disappearing through the passageway leading to my mother's chamber.

"We have to go after him," I said once he was gone.

Perseus huffed. "Why would we do that, Ambrosia? He will get himself killed. There is no need for us to interfere."

"Don't let your anger cloud your heart, Perseus! She will turn him to stone. I know you are angry, but we can't let him submit to such a fate. You will regret it."

"What I regret is ever trusting him to begin with. I should have known better. He is a sorcerer. Their kind is known to be devious and slippery."

"He is not just another sorcerer, Perseus. He is your _friend!"_

"He is not my friend!" His shout vibrated off the walls, striking my eardrums with a deafening volume. "Did you not see the way he wielded my own weapon in my face?"

"Yes, I saw it. But we don't know why he did it. Suppose he was under threat to bring her back alive? You would have slayed Medusa on sight. He couldn't let you proceed without killing you."

"You are speculating, Ambrosia."

"Yes, I am speculating. That is all I can do—guess at it! Think, Perseus. Does he have family—a wife? Anyone who might be in danger if he did not comply with such a demand?"

"No. He is an orphaned bachelor with no children."

"There must be something!"

"There is!" He lifted his palms to the sky in exhaustion. "He is a greedy liar who used my knowledge of this underworld to collect the prize for himself."

I paced the chamber from one end to the other. "That does not make any sense. There is no prize to be had, you said it yourself. How long has he traveled with you?"

"I don't know...ten years?"

"Ten years ago, you thought Medusa was dead! There was no reason for him to band with you if he was only after her."

Perseus raked his hand through his hair and squinted his eyes. "It does not matter why. He has made his decision."

"I can't accept that."

He made his way to me and pulled me into his embrace. His arms cradled me, tenderly warming my shivering shoulders. I did not shake from the elements. I was not cold. I was frustrated, overwhelmed, and sinking deeper into a pit of my own oncoming hysteria.

Nikkias was stalking my mother as we debated if we should care or not. Such little time was left before either he or she fell under the other's onslaught. Medusa was prepared, if what Perseus said was true. There was no way she missed the racket made when we'd battled with the Harpies. I couldn't bring myself to side with either of them, to wish that one lived and one died.

"Let's go home," Perseus whispered as he gently kissed my cheek.

I was startled by his sudden acceptance of defeat. It was not like him to give up until he had no other choice. We could still charge in and rescue Nikkias. He still had the option to win. Why was he backing down?

"We have come this far," I argued. "We can't turn back now."

I couldn't turn back now. Never mind Nikkias, I was a chamber away from saving my mother. I could feel her closeness in my soul, and it ached for her. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I turned away now.

"It's not worth the cost." Perseus squeezed my body tight before holding me out to look into my eyes. "Homer is gone already. Now Nikkias. I have nearly lost you so many times I have lost count. All I can think about is how I felt when that siren pulled you into the well. The only time I have ever known such despair was when I lost my wife. I can't lose you, too."

"You are not going to lose me. We have pushed through the hard part. Your target is on the other side of these walls. We have made it, Perseus. We can't give up when we are so close."

"I do not care about any of that now."

I recoiled from him and inched closer to the archway that had just swallowed Nikkias' form.

"But...but you said yourself she wouldn't stop until she has killed you."

"The Amphisbaena is dead, slayed by your glorious skill. I no longer have anything to fear."

"What if she conjures up something else?"

"Nothing she creates can make its way past the entrance."

"Perseus..."

He stepped toward me, and I stepped back farther. I couldn't let him get a hold of me again. I couldn't say no if I was under the spell that came from his touch. His hands stretched out to me. It took every bit of strength I had not to run to them. He brought his brows together, and his gaze pleaded with me to give in to him.

"Please, Ambrosia. You have had your adventure. Let's return to Greece while we can still escape with both of our lives."

"You don't know what you're asking of me," I choked out between shaking sobs.

"I am asking you to be my wife, Ambrosia. I can take care of you. We can have a life together."

I buried my fingers into my hair and tugged at the strands, blinking back tears that came crashing through. I wanted to give in so badly it burned my insides. The strength it took to keep from saying yes to him shattered me to pieces. My stomach turned, and the earth seemed to spin so quick I was forced to grip a stalagmite to keep from falling.

"I can't," I said to the dirt.

"Why not?" He threw himself on his knees in front of me, demanding my attention. "You love me, I know you do. Why can we not have that life?"

My face drained of color, and my limbs went numb. I couldn't push it back any longer. I had to tell him the truth, even though I knew that it would destroy him, especially after Nikkias' betrayal.

"She is my mother."

As the words left my lips I breathed out a weight that had held me prisoner from the beginning. I could breathe again. At first, he did not seem to understand. He cocked his head, and when the substance of my revelation settled, his jawline tightened, and he rose to his feet.

His knuckles grazed his now well grown-in beard as he paced a hole in the floor. A long, taut silence covered us. I wanted to hide from it, but I owed Perseus a full-faced explanation.

"Perseus, listen to me—"

He pointed a finger in the air to cut me off. "You were the infant I pulled from her womb."

With nothing constructive to say, I offered a simple nod.

"That is how you knew where the Fates resided. I left you on the doorstep of that home. When I saw who lived there, I assumed they ate you."

I covered my mouth to stifle a snort. He did not appear to be angry yet, my insensitivity wouldn't be the thing to break him.

"You lured me here." His blue eyes now blazed with fire. "You used me to get to Medusa so you could what, live happily ever after in her chamber?"

"I wanted to free her," I offered, praying he would understand.

"You knew I intended to kill her. How did you imagine you would get her past me?"

"I...I was going to kill you." I couldn't bring myself to utter another lie to him.

His pupils dilated as he actually started to chuckle. _"You_ were going to kill _me?"_

"Yes. But that was before—"

"Before what, Ambrosia? Before you realized I was only after her head because of what she did to my family?"

"I do not believe she did anything to your family, Perseus. A beast that only existed because you drew her blood in the first place locked on to your scent from its birth and found your wife instead."

"More conjecture, young one. Nothing more."

"And even if she did send the thing for you, could you blame her? You came into her dwelling where she was harming no one and tried to kill her! Would you expect no retaliation at all?"

This wasn't about me anymore, this was about my mother. I took a breath to collect my thoughts and poured out words I had wanted to throw at him from the beginning.

"I expected revenge. I accepted my own fate when I did what I had to by taking her head, but my wife had nothing to do with it! She deserved no such fate! You, on the other hand..."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said, you lousy, disgusting harlot."

His insults sucked the air from my lungs, and again tears burned. He moved for the direction we had come from. He was leaving me here.

"It does not have to be this way, Perseus. It does not have to be you against us."

"My reputation is at stake!"

"Your reputation is not worth my mother's life!"

"What did you think would happen once you found her?" he asked over his shoulder. "You couldn't have hoped the beast would blend in on the streets of Greece."

"I was told the water would free her of the curse."

He turned on his heels and snickered at me, pulling the canteen from his bag. "This water?"

My heart lurched. He was not going to give it to me, and I couldn't blame him for it. All of this was for nothing. I would have my mother, but I would be sentenced to live in this entrance to the underworld for the rest of my days.

# Chapter 26

He was gone. The only man I had ever loved had left me. And worse, he hated me for what I was. I should have been smarter about it all. I should have killed him when I had the chance. It would have spared me this horrible, sinking abandonment that now shook me to the core.

I sat in the dirt, catching my breath, staring at the hole he left through. I thought about the Chamber of Reflection. He would be facing it now. The image of himself must have changed from when he went through without looking. Would he look now that he was alone with none to be brave for?

I imagined him lost inside it, having just spared a glimpse out of nothing more than searching for himself. The thought sent bitter bile rising in my throat. As desolate as I felt sitting here, he no doubt felt the greater sting of being alone. He came into the cave with two friends and the woman he loved, and left with no one.

Did he really love me? I ran through my mind in search of an instance where the words had actually left his lips. He said he wanted me to be his wife. Marriages in Greece were rarely made out of love. More often it had to do with status or financial advancement. Sometimes it would simply be about a poor lonely soul finding someone, anyone, to fill his solitary nights with. Was that what I had been to Perseus? An all-too-willing volunteer to share his bed and keep his home?

I shook my head. I couldn't believe that was all it was. He had loved me, even if he never said it. He had loved me until he found out I was a half-beast. It was so easy for him to let go of what we could have been. Perhaps he only loved the facade I let on. The girl I pretended to be. No, he did not love me. He loved the simple harlot who needed saving.

I shifted myself to face the entrance to Medusa's lair. She wouldn't know me, I realized. If the rumors of her relentless, indiscriminate fury were true, I would have little chance to explain my trespassing before she would rip me to pieces. I pictured her violently tearing me limb from limb while I screamed in agony. Dread prickled at the hairs on my neck.

It occurred to me I had heard no such sounds coming from Nikkias yet. He should have reached her by now. As eager as he was, I doubted he would spend much time snaking around the cave to find a sweet spot of attack. If he wanted her out alive, perhaps he offered her the antidote, not realizing it would cure her entirely.

My hope lifted at the prospect. Maybe he had collected some of the water while Perseus was not paying attention, and he was going to use it to entice her. Excitement brought some hope back into my heart, and I rushed to the corridor, slowing only when I realized how impossibly dark the tunnel was. I returned to the room with the slaughtered Harpies...and the defeated Homer.

The torch Perseus had carried was sitting right next to his remains. Sadness struck me again at the sight of him. I bent down to kiss his cheek as I reached out to close his eyelids. At least his spirit's journey to the underworld would be a short one.

The torch by some miracle was still smoldering. I blew on it to spark the embers to life again, then lifted it to re-enter the dark passageway. Cobwebs covered the opening, so I used the fire to scorch them as I proceeded through. The smell of burnt fibers filled the hollow, and I choked, smothering the sound as best as I could with my arm.

Finally, I came to the opening of a chamber. I recognized Nikkias' voice coming from the inside, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. Recalling his earlier threat, I placed the torch back inside the tunnel I had just emerged from and tip-toed behind rafters to keep myself from sight.

"I promised I would find you." Nikkias' voice was still far away. I could only make out pieces of the conversation.

I made swift, silent steps toward the sound until I could understand them better. My body now ducked behind an over-sized boulder. I peered over the top of it, and I saw them both. Nikkias had his back to a beam to separate them.

My mother, Medusa, was on the other side of it. She did not attack or lunge for him. She stood next to the barrier between them with an outstretched palm against it. There was no aggression at all to be read in her stance.

Her gray-tinted skin seemed to glow in the darkness. The serpents that sprang from her scalp were tangled and faceless. They had no mouths to make the hissing noises that were said to be associated with her. Those who told the stories were the ones who wanted her kept away. It was clear that anything I had heard were exaggerations and wouldn't help me to decide my next move.

Still, she was exactly how I had envisioned her to be. A perfect replication of what I saw in the mirror. From my angle, I had a clear view of her face.

The emerald of her eyes was longing and desperate. Her lips were cracked, bleeding from the constant cold, moist air. The bones in her cheeks stood out to show she had indeed once been a beautiful young woman.

"You should not have come here," she told him with an unsteady voice.

"It took me too long," he said. "It was no easy task to find where they had hidden you."

"You should have moved on, Nikkias. It does you no good to be here. I can't leave and you can't stay."

"Who says I can't stay?"

I still did not understand what was happening between them. He must not have had the water, though, as he had not offered it as a solution to their dilemma.

She was crying. I was so close to her I could smell the salty tears that fell to her feet. I wanted to hold her. To ease the suffering she had spent close to an eternity enduring.

My own mortal fear was enough to hold back the reflex. She would have no way of knowing my claim to be true. I couldn't condemn her if she was suspicious.

A blade came around the front of my neck, and I was jerked backward. My focus had been so concentrated on my mother I had allowed myself to lose track of Nikkias.

"To your feet!" He pulled me to a stand and used me as a shield between the two of them.

I flinched when her bright green eyes settled on my face, waiting to be turned to stone despite Athena's assurances I wouldn't be.

"Nikkias, stop—" My pleas were cut off as the pressure of his blade tightened on the flesh of my throat.

"What did I tell you?" He pressed the sharp edge harder under my chin to silence me.

"What is going on?" Medusa slithered toward me. She studied my face intently, running her eyes along the scar that marred it. Her eyebrows came together in sympathy. "Nikkias, she is but a child. Lower your sword!"

He did as she asked, still hiding behind my frame. "It's true then?" he marveled. "Only men are affected."

She nodded. "Is she the one you claimed was after my head?"

"It is."

"No, you have it wrong," I protested.

"Don't try to charm your way out of this," Nikkias warned.

"Let her speak," Medusa demanded.

"I came here under a guise. The same as you." I looked back at him. "I do not want your head, Medusa."

"Then what do you want from me?"

I swallowed hard. "I wanted to meet you."

Her screeching laughter dug into my pride. Nikkias' hold on me tightened. He had not found my declaration so amusing.

"You will need to do better than that," he seethed. "Where is Perseus? Reveal yourself!" He yelled into the tunnel behind us.

"He is gone. I swear it." I winced under his grip. "He left when I told him..."

"When you told him what? Out with it, if you know what's good for you!"

"When I told him she is my mother!"

Nikkias' sharp breath landed on my neck. Medusa's lips parted, and she came closer, her examination fixing on my eyes. They were the same striking color as hers. It was the only proof I had to offer. I could only pray it was enough.

Her stern, creased forehead relaxed. She traced my features with her soft fingertips, and I leaned into her touch. A rush of belonging came through each stroke. I couldn't hold back the sensationally sweet feeling that came with the moment I had waited so long for. My mother was brushing away a rogue tear that fell, unleashing the flood gates.

"It's true," she gaped.

"No, my love," Nikkias argued. "She is deceiving you. She will say anything necessary to save her hide! Chrysayor is your son. I have met him myself."

His love? It was coming together. Everything was crashing into place. He was the one Medusa had loved before she was turned. This was the man she refused my father for. He had come for her after clinging to his love for all these years.

The romanticism only made me respect him more. He may have me in a death grip, prepared to strike my head to the ground, but he did it out of love for my mother. I could relate to it so fiercely that I couldn't be angry at him.

"Let her go, Nikkias. I did not have a son. That is my daughter."

"But...how can you be sure? You were unconscious when the child was taken."

"A mother knows."

Nikkias did not release me. Instead he whipped me around, clutching my shoulders and reading my face. His grip weakened, and his expression softened. He brought his hands to cradle my chin.

"Your eyes." He smiled down at me. "I told you they were familiar, remember?"

"Yes, Nikkias," I replied with affection. "I remember."

# Chapter 27

Nikkias and Medusa sat back-to-back, their arms wrapped around their backs to hold one another as well as they could. It was a bittersweet reunion for them—to know they could never again gaze into the eyes of the one they had loved for at least two decades. It made me realize how lucky I truly was.

My love was over. There would be no more longing or struggling. No battles to win just to feel him fill the same room with me. Once I got over Perseus, that would be it. That would be my final battle, moving past him. After this crushing in my chest went away, my life would return to normal.

Nikkias was busy telling the tale of how he'd found Perseus. Medusa had sent a raven to his doorstep before Poseidon had cursed the entrance. This was a symbol between the two of them. A way for them to communicate in secret even when they were both mortals.

Medusa was a servant in Athena's castle and couldn't marry a man of Greece. When they fell in love, the raven served as their messenger, passing notes from one to the other.

With no parcel to write on once she was banished, she couldn't tell him how to find her. In truth, she had not wanted him to find her. Knowing they could never really be together was too much to bear. She could only hope he would still understand the message. He had to know she was alive and well to keep him from grieving. She had expected him to move on.

Even she had misjudged how determined her dear Nikkias was. He'd found Perseus in Aetheopia, battling the army of King Polydectes the day he saved his mother. He had intended to kill him, just as I had, until he discovered Medusa still lived. It was an arduous task to convince Perseus she was not vanquished without revealing how he knew.

Amphisbaena was his saving grace. It was an easy seed to plant, once the creature killed Princess Andromeda. Nikkias used the misfortune against him.

"Where is Perseus?" he wondered. "You couldn't fake the love the two of you have for each other. He should be here by your side."

I scanned my mother's face, fearing the disapproval I was sure to see on it. She couldn't be happy at the prospect of her daughter courting her assassin. To my surprise, her eyes only squinted in concern for me.

I did not know anything of it personally, but I had heard one's mother could sense her child's pain. Her worry for me must have been overshadowing her own hurt. This was something on a long list of somethings I would have to get used to.

I cleared my throat. "Not every man's love is as enduring as yours, I'm afraid."

"He will regret it," Nikkias assured me.

I shook my head. I was not convinced. "He is too blinded by his own reputation. His stupid, bloody reputation."

"He will learn before long his reputation will only get him into the good graces of those who will use him."

"You mean the way we did?" I snorted. "I only wish he hadn't taken the canteen. He could have left me with something."

"Why should a canteen matter so much?" my mother asked, her head tilted to the side.

"The water inside it could have cured you."

She leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. "There is such a thing?"

"There is," I sighed. "And now we have no hope at all."

"I thought the water only allowed us to enter the cave." Nikkias tapped his chin.

"The goddess told me it reverses all magic. She said it would revert her back to her mortal form." I wrinkled my brow and look dishearteningly at Medusa. "I could have saved you if I had kept my heart out of it. I am so sorry, Mother."

She patted my hand and squeezed it firmly. "The heart knows no such thing as logic, Ambrosia. You can't keep it at bay, no matter how inconvenient it may be. I do not blame you for anything. Don't you know how strong you are to have made it this far?"

"All is not lost," Nikkias mused. "Your mother is right. You are an exceptional young woman, Ambrosia. Together, I believe we can return and collect more water to bring back."

It was a simple enough task, but the idea of facing Poseidon again gave me a shudder. He wouldn't let me slip away again if he caught me, I was certain of it.

"How would we avoid my father?"

"What are you talking about?" Medusa pursed her lips.

"The water is kept in a fountain in Atlantis with Poseidon," I explained, ducking my head at the mention of his name.

"But what does your father have to do with it?"

I raised a brow. "I've just told you. We will have to get past him to get to the fountain."

"Ambrosia..." She took a deep breath. "Poseidon is not your father. Who told you this?"

"The Fates told me."

"Ah! Those pot-stirring old hags!" Medusa scrunched her nose. "You can't believe a word that comes out of their mouths, I tell you. They twist the truth to create their own desired outcome, not caring who they hurt in the process."

My heart constricted, and my neck grew hot. Once again, the Fates had misled me. I was beginning to question everything they had ever told me from childhood.

Even worse was the revelation itself; I might not have been pleased with knowing my father was the grisly, cruel god of the sea. Often, I found myself humiliated by the fact. But at least I had a little comfort knowing where I came from. She would know how important this was, I reasoned. She wouldn't jest about something so serious.

"Then..." I hesitated, afraid of the answer. "Who is my father?"

"Why, Nikkias, of course!"

She said it so plainly, as if it should have been obvious to the lot of us. Nikkias had been listening to our conversation in silence, probably drifting off in his own thoughts. But now his head had snapped back to look at me. It had not been so obvious to him, either.

"Nikkias?" I repeated.

My lips curled into a smile, and my heart flooded with pride. This was a man I could be proud of coming from. He was kind, loyal, and moral. He had treated me with such decency from the time I'd met him, even when he knew me as nothing more than a harlot. Part of me wanted to leap across the room and hold him. I wanted to thank him for being my father. If he was, that meant that I had no ties to such evil as Poseidon. I was not a demigod, either. I was a pure mortal.

As usual my skeptic side kept me at bay. I needed to know how he would react first. I couldn't guess if he would be happy at the news. He was still frowning. Not from anger or sadness, more from confusion. I couldn't blame him for it.

He was slow to stand, rotating Medusa so he was the one to face me. His arms unlocked from my mother's and he tangled his hands in my hair.

"I couldn't ask for a daughter to be prouder of," he whispered as he bent down to kiss my forehead.

When his eyes softened, my heart melted. His face beamed with pride as he looked down at me. This was what it felt like to be loved, to be accepted. It was worth every single stumble and bruise. Every drop of blood that had been spilled from my veins. This scar on my face meant nothing now.

As wonderful as my father was, it was the combination of the two of them that made me the happiest. My mother was sweet, understanding, and maternal to the bone even without having had the experience of motherhood. Their love had endured for so long. One day I would find that for myself, but for now, I had to give the ones who had given me the gift of life something in return. Medusa still needed my help.

"Let's go, Father. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can break this wretched curse."

"That's my girl!" He laughed, tossing me a sword to carry on my way out.

"That won't be necessary," a voice said from behind.

"Perseus!" My mother hissed and spun to turn him.

I jumped on top of her, toppling her to the ground. "Mother, no! Please!"

"You won't have her head!" Nikkias roared as he grappled his former friend against the cave wall. "Not again. I am here now. You won't hurt her!"

Nikkias' arm pressed hard into Perseus' throat, but he did not fight back or even try to wiggle free.

"I did not come here to fight you," he wheezed.

"Nikkias, let him go!" I pleaded.

I had to hear him out. I had to give him the chance to make his peace. A naïve part of me hoped he was here for me, but the stronger, more experienced part of my gut was quick to stomp away the foolishness.

Nikkias leaned in close to Perseus. "If you so much as raise a sword, I will kill you."

Perseus rubbed his neck hard once he was freed. He reached into his scabbard and tossed his sword across the chamber. "I did not come to fight," he repeated.

I got up to meet him after I assisted my mother with standing again. Perseus was offering the canteen to Nikkias. Tears filled my eyes from the gesture. Despite our betrayal, he was still doing what he knew was right, just as the Perseus I had grown to love so deeply would do.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked my mother, checking for bruises, despite knowing I wouldn't be able to see them through the ash.

"No," she smiled. "I am sorry. It was a reflex."

"I understand," I giggled. "I don't imagine even Perseus could blame you."

She pulled me to her by the nape of the neck, bringing my ear to her lips. "He came back for you."

I was still astounded at the level of understanding she was capable of. A beast was more human than the mortals I had spent my life with.

My heartbeat began pounding as I looked up at him behind her. She let me go, and I meandered in his direction, careful to keep the hope from showing. _He may only be delivering the water,_ I chanted inwardly as I approached him.

"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my tone cold.

He opened his mouth to speak, but instead took hold of my chin and brought me to him. His lips grazed mine softly at first. Then his kiss grew hungry and apologetic, saying what he needed when his words were failing him. I brought my hands to rake through his hair, losing myself in the desperation that was burning through him.

"But what about your reputation?" I mocked when he finally let me breathe again.

"To Hades with my reputation. I have you, and that is all I will ever need. I love you, Ambrosia."

THE END
> "If you loved Jewel of the Gods, please tell your friends about my book and consider leaving a review. Reviews are like potato chips; you can't ever have enough of them. Thanks for reading my book!"
> 
> * * *
> 
> ~Mary Bernsen

# Also by Mary Bernsen

### Mermaid Royalty Series

SINK

SWIM

SPLASH

### Beyond the Gods

Nectar of the Gods

Jewel of the Gods

**Get your copy today!**

# About the Author

Mary Bernsen is a southwest Florida native currently living in North Port with her two beautiful children and a third, much larger child that she affectionately calls husband. She is the Amazon Best Selling Author of Healing The Bayou, The Ganga Shift, and Beyond the Gods series.

She also writes young adult romances under her pseudonym, M.E. Rhines.

www.merhines.com

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