The Deep End of the Sea (14 page)

“He’s a task-master, that’s for sure,” I say slyly. I unfairly delight in watching the man in question pale despite his dark skin. “I’m sure you are eager to explore the world, too, but perhaps its best to take it one step at a time.” Hades’ grin turns naughty, as if he knows he’s just thrown a bad pun at me. And I can’t help but giggle, because it’s such a charming smile and one I’d never thought could come from a god with such a dark reputation.

“Will Hermes be with us tonight?” I’m immediately embarrassed for asking. How must that sound? Does Hades think I will only spend time with him and Persephone if Hermes is present?

“Alas,” he says, his normally dark eyes a softer caramel, “he will not. Zeus has him out for a meeting that ought to take him through late night. That said, we’ve invited Aphrodite and Hephaestus to join us.” He taps me on the nose. “You will like them.” Disappointment settles down against my shoulders, which mortifies me further. I’ve known Hermes for years ... have gone days, weeks even without seeing him, and yet here I am, crushed because he won’t be coming to dinner because his mighty father has sent him out in his stead to take care of important matters.

I force myself to smile and sound properly excited. “I’m sure I will.”

Hades ruffles my sweaty hair like it doesn’t bother him in the slightest to be touching my grossness, tells me to be ready within the hour, and then heads back to his office to wrap up matters for the day. The moment the door closes behind him, Tele collapses to the ground in a frazzled heap.

I give as good as I get. “Cat got
your
tongue?”

He props himself up on his elbows as Kore hands me a towel. “Interesting that you are dining with Olympus’ finest tonight, don’t you think?”

I rub at my hair with the towel. “Meaning?”

His eerily pale eyes narrow. “Meaning, you are a former monster. They are gods.”

“Tele!” Kore hisses as she twists off a water bottle cap for me. I keep telling her she doesn’t need to do such mundane things; I’m not helpless, after all. But she just ignores me and does them anyway. I mean, honestly. She opens my water bottles for me. Nonsense, right? Because how lazy do you have to be to have someone habitually open items such as water bottles for you? Nothing is wrong with my hands—monster or not, I would’ve been able to do such a mundane task. It’s only my legs that are in need of help, and after running an hour today, I’m thinking they don’t even need much more.

“What?” he throws back. “You can’t tell me you aren’t wondering the same things. Olympus is abuzz with how this one here,”—he jerks a finger toward me—“has certain gods under her thumb.”

The water bottle pauses halfway to my lips as I stare down at him.

He stands up and brushes off his shorts. Then, uncharacteristically serious, he asks, “Tell me, Medusa, why do the gods seem to favor you so much?”

Perplexed, I finish my drink and set the bottle down. Just what is he insinuating? “Are you forgetting that I’ve spent ages as a monster in exile? I’m pretty sure that’s a far cry from favor.”

He flips his baseball cap backward. “And now you live as cherished guest at Lord Hades villa and dine with the some of the mightiest of our kind on a nightly basis.”

It hits too close to home, to my long-held fears of the fickle nature of the gods. But I refuse to let him see my insecurities. “They are being kind.”

He snorts. “Kind? All that was expected, perhaps, was the reversal of the curse. The rare examples who have come before you got that and a one-way ticket back to Greece with a, ‘Don’t call us, we won’t call you,’ kick in the butt out the door.” Kore hisses his name at him again, but he waves her off. “Kore, you know as well as I the rumors about this girl here—”

I jump to my feet. “What rumors?”

“Shut it if you know what it good for you,” Kore warns, stepping in between us. Her lithe frame actually blocks him from my view.

From behind her, I hear, “Is it true?”

“Is what true?” I ask at the same time Kore says, “It is time to get you ready for tonight, my lady.” She quickly gathers up my belongings; I attempt to take some from her, but she is a tenacious girl, yielding nothing.

“It is, isn’t it?” Tele says when we get to the door.

I pause, looking back at him, but Kore places her hand on my lower back and urges me forward. “You don’t want to be late, my lady. We must hurry.”

“I’ll be damned,” Tele calls out. “It is.”

What is he talking about?

His wicked smile cuts his face in half. “It was good working with you, Medusa. Be careful, won’t you? I wouldn’t want to have to help you relearn how to walk again.”

Kore forcibly closes the door behind us. In her fluster, I’m able to snatch a bag away from her. “What rumors was Tele referencing to?”

“My lady—”

I hold out a hand. “Kore, please stop with this
my lady
bit. I am no lady. Before I was cursed, I was a handmaiden. More years than that, I was a monster. Now, I am just a girl. Please call me by my name.”

She looks so stricken by this I can’t help but sigh.

“I am sincere in my request. It is what I would prefer. What are these rumors?”

Uncertainty shines in her eyes, but she gives me a small nod. “As you wish ... Medusa.” And then, a hint of a smile reappearing, she says, “But I do insist on carrying your bags for you.”

I sigh again and pass the item over. She’s avoiding my questions, too. I suppose Hermes is right, though; change will come when change will come. Even still, I’m going to work on her easing up on the whole servant bit as much as possible and trusting me a bit more.

After we are in my room and I’ve bathed and changed into a pretty dress she’s picked out for me, I decide to go for it one more time and ask Kore, “What was Tele talking about?”

The hairbrush in her hand pauses in its downward stroke, but she says nothing.

“He said there were rumors about me in Olympus. Have you heard any of them?”

The brush completes its stroke down and then she resumes her gentle styling. “As I spend most of my time here at the villa, I have no time for petty gossip.”

“But surely you must have heard
something
. What about from your boyfriend?” Despite being forced to work with me so much, I happen to know she sees him everyday, plus talks to him on the phone as much as possible.

I watch her face in the mirror as her nose screws up and her brow wrinkles, like she’s torn from whether or not to say anything. So I sweeten my request by adding, “I swear to you that you have nothing to fear when it comes to me, especially repercussions for speaking the truth.”

She bites her thin bottom lip and meets my eyes in the mirror. Why is she so scared?

Oh, this is too frustrating. Surely by now she’s realized that she’s in no danger of anything from me. “Please, tell me these rumors. It’s not like I haven’t been talked about before. After all, I’ve had such lovely, heartwarming things said about me for years. My favorite, of course, was that of my glamorous beheading.”

This breaks a bit of the tension, just like I hoped. “Well, my lady—”

“Medusa,” I remind her.

Her smile is embarrassed, yet sad at the same time. “Since you insist on hearing it, I will tell you. There are several rumors going around right now, but the most prevalent is that Lord Hades and Lord Hermes have stolen you away from Lord Poseidon.”

Images hit me fast and hard, ones I have shielded myself from over the ages. His hands, on me. His lips, on mine. His body, forcibly entering mine. If anybody has stolen anything, it was that bastard when he took my innocence and then my life. I clench my eyes shut and grab the arms of the chair.

“My la—Medusa, oh, I am so sorry, I did not want to tell you, oh, please do not be angry at me, I promise I won’t—”

“Stop,” I gasp. These are only pictures from the past, I repeat to myself. Everything he did, it was in the past. Thousands of years ago. I am nothing to him now. Nothing but a distant memory. He cannot hurt me now. I am safe. “Just ... do not apologize. Please.”

But she is clearly terrified, tiny breaths sucking in and out from behind me that verge dangerously close to hyperventilation. So I open my eyes and, forcing myself to say as calmly as I can, “What else is being said?”

Her eyes are saucer wide as she rapidly shakes her head, lips trapped between her teeth.

“It is all right.” I am impressed with how even I sound, though it feels as if I am across the room, watching another person speak through whoever this girl’s body I somehow entered and now inhabit. “Nothing to fear, remember?”

Her voice is barely discernable. “There are some who believe you to be a powerful witch, and that you have bewitched Lord Hermes.”

I believe I blink a full four times before laughter bubbles out. And it feels good, pushing its way past crippling anxiety. “A
witch
? Like—with magic? Hocus pocus?”

A nervous titter escapes her.

Better this rumor than the one before, though. “So, Kore, what say you? Do you think me a witch? Have you discovered my broom and book of spells yet?” I waggle my eyebrows and do my best at cackling; her tittering gives way to genuine giggles.

“Most certainly not. Although,” she admits softly when the giggles die down, “I mean no disrespect, but ... I have never seen Lord Hermes so devoted to anyone before, save his family.”

Tiny goose bumps spread involuntarily up and down my arms. Does she really believe this, or is this merely a kindness she is offering? “He and I have been friends for a long time.”

She picks the brush back up and once more pulls it through my hair. Her silence makes me uneasy.

“He was my friend when I had no friends. He’s a good person, with a good heart.” My hands twist in my lap. “See, I’m most likely a charity case. He’s quite the knight in shining armor sort of god. Always off trying to save people. Surely you know that about him, right? He ... I think that’s why I’m here. He wanted to save me from being a monster. He ... I think he felt sorry for me after listening to me bemoan my fate. It must have been so tiring, listening to it all, you know? Maybe he wanted to stop the vast number of pity fests I threw for myself on a regular basis.”

I’m babbling. Full-on babbling, and she’s still not saying anything.

Has Hermes heard these rumors? What must he think of them? Does it humiliate him to be linked to me so? Like he would ever be interested in, no, devoted to somebody like me. It’s such an absurd thought that my palms begin to sweat. All those stories of gods and mortals mixing, well ... they are nothing but legends.

Right?

“I’m not a witch. How ridiculous is that? Wouldn’t these people feel foolish once they met me or saw me. There are no enchantments, no spells. Just ... friendship. Years of friendship. That’s why ...” Stars above, my mouth is bone dry. “There’s no ... devotion. How silly is that! He’s just kind. He’s ... friends do this for one another. If there’s devotion, it’s because of that.”

Her answer is a small, albeit knowing, smile.

A long, sleek black limousine pulls up to the front of the villa, driven by none other than Talos, who I’ve only seen lurking around the edges of my existence over the last week. Other than the one sentence he uttered in Tele’s gym, telling me his name, I’ve yet to hear anything further. And I don’t hear anything now when he opens the door for us and helps me into the car.

It’s completely irrational, but adrenaline spikes in my bloodstream as I slide onto the rich leather seat. Persephone climbs in after me, hooking her arm through mine as she describes the restaurant we’re about to go to. Hades grabs my attention for a small moment, rolling his eyes and smiling wryly, as if he finds his wife and her chatter adorably exasperating.

But this here, this is my first time in a car. My first time in any vehicle other than a chariot, and as that was so long ago I can’t even remember what it looked or felt like to be in one, this first is both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

I clutch at the seat below me when the limo descends down the winding drive, past olive and juniper trees lining the road and onto the main street. Part of me wants to press my palms and nose against the glass and blatantly stare. There are people out there walking dogs, driving, riding bikes, living their lives, and there are houses and stores and sights so wondrous to see that it’s hard to believe it’s all real. This is not a movie, though, nor flat pictures in books—no, these scenes are tangible as they flash by me. But to act so uncouth would be utterly rude to my hosts, so I try my best to focus on Persephone and nod and murmur at the appropriate times, even though everything in me yearns to turn toward the window.

“Oh, leave the poor girl alone,” Hades says minutes later, breaking through his wife’s detailed description of the ambrosia at the restaurant, and of how she felt last time she drank it which sounds suspiciously like drunk. “Can’t you see she’s not interested?”

My cheeks flame. Is my rudeness so obvious? Hades is smirking, winks at me even. But I’m horrified to be caught so disinterested. “Oh, please believe me, I am most enjoying—”