The Deep End of the Sea (16 page)

“Are you alright, Medusa?” Dite asks me. Her hand is on my shoulder again, jarring me out of my musings. “You’re shaking.”

I startle and the glass slips from my fingers; thankfully, it’s newly empty, or my dress would be ruined as it lands squarely on my lap. Even still, tiny leftover sprinkles dot the thin silk.

“Oh!” She grabs the glass as the table grows quiet. “I’m like the legendary bull in the china shop. Here, come with me to the restroom; I will help you get those stains right out.” She digs in the beaded clutch lying on the table next to her plate before pulling out a stain remover pen. “Voilà!”

“I promise you there’s no need,” I tell her. I mean, it’s just a few little specks, and they’re already microscopic. But within minutes, I’m in an opulent area off to the side of a gleaming restroom, leaning back into an overstuffed chair as the Goddess of Love gets to work on my now completely dry dress. There are a half dozen other women milling about, fluffing their hair or applying lipstick, whose sly ogling unnerves me to my core. It’s an eerie sensation, having eyes trace over you over and over again, as if their owners are trying to riddle out weakness and secrets.

Just like that, I’m wishing I were back at the villa again.

“There.” Dite caps the pen and stands up. Small wet circles form a pattern around my upper thighs. “Let’s just give it a few minutes to dry before we go back out there.” She pulls over a nearby chair; when she sits down, our knees touch, she is so close. “How are you doing tonight? This must all be a lot to take in.”

Somebody coughs nearby; it’s followed up with another derisive whisper of my name. Aphrodite whips her head around, eyes narrowing into slits as she spots a trio of girls across the room. A low hiss comes from between her lips, one so alien from a goddess who has shown me nothing but a bubbly, enchanting personality that I’m spurred to lean forward and touch her arm, even though my chest constricts in alarm.

“It’s okay.” I try to mimic cheeriness. “That’s to be expected, isn’t it?”

She turns back to me, eyes wide in question. The trio quickly leave the restroom.

It may be suicide, but I say, “I’ve heard that there aren’t a lot of ex-monsters around. Of course they’ll be curious.”

Her expression smoothes out until all I see is the woman I’d met out in the dining room. “Ex-monsters! Are you referring to yourself? Because that’s just ridic—”

More risk of suicide, because I cut her off. “I am an ex-monster.” I offer a smile, even though my insides quiver uncontrollably. What if I truly offend her right now? I might be right back on Gorgóna before the night is over. “The thing is, I happen to know that for the few lucky enough as I to be changed back are no longer in Olympus. And yet, I’m not only still here, but I’m living at the Lord of the Underworld’s home. I’m having dinner tonight with not one, but four powerful and influential gods. And I don’t know
why
.”

It’s something I’ve wanted to ask Hermes over the last week, but haven’t mustered up the courage to do so—not because I was afraid of him, but more because I was afraid to know the real answer. Somehow tonight I’ve found it, though, and I don’t know if it’s because I drank much ambrosia, the claustrophobia has messed with my brain, or I’m frankly spooked by her about-face with that weird hissing (truly ironic, coming from a woman who used to hear hissing on a regular basis, when the snakes on her head would get—pun completely intended—snappish with one another) toward those girls, but here I am, using that bit of courage to finally clear the air.

I’ve taken her by surprise, though, because her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rise high.

“I’m not stupid. I know this isn’t normal. Your kind doesn’t mix with my kind—”

“What!”

My hands are visibly shaking, but they’ve got nothing on the full-blown tremors rocking every cell inside my body. I wish I’d drunk more of the ambrosia. Aphrodite has been nothing but kind tonight, and I’m like a rabid dog right now, fully attacking her in a public restroom. There’s no turning back, though. I can’t stand the limbo that I’ve fallen into, even if in just five short days. For the last two thousand years, I at least knew what to expect. Life was stable. Predictable. Right now? It’s utter chaos. It’s like I’m on the edge of a glacier at sea level, finally taken my first steps on land after being lost at sea for ages; yet each time my weight bears down upon my feet as I move, a low groan is unleashed that hints at potential disaster.

The fact is, I’m waiting for the area I’m standing on to break off, so I’m once more adrift at sea. This is how my luck is. Everyone has been kind, that much is true. She’s been nothing but kind. But I guess no matter what I thought earlier tonight, old habits die-hard, because I can’t take it anymore. “Just tell me. Is this some kind of game to you all? Am I some kind of game?”

She’s out of her chair, her hair wild and swinging about her shoulders.
“No.”

I stand up, too. She’s taller than me, but not by much. “Am I a pet then?”

Total shock flashes across her face.

“There is no reason I can think of that explains why I am being made the only exception.”

This has her grabbing my arm. “Stop! Just ... stop this right now. You want a reason?” She’s no longer the effervescent goddess from before, and I’m kind of glad for it. Because maybe now that ledge will finally break off already, and I’ll no longer have to wait for the inevitable. “I’ll give you the very best reason: my brother. Remember him?
My brother
is your reason.”

My breath sucks in.

Soft as they are, her words are filled with anger. “Are you telling me that you think you’re a game to him? A pet?”

“No,” I tell her. Because he is, as he always has been, the grand exception to everything.

Her anger fades somewhat as her fingers uncurl from my arm. Somebody comes into the room, but with one look at Aphrodite, the elderly satyr turns on her heels and leaves without a word. She takes a deep breath, waving her hands around her face like she’s drying her nails. “I’ve totally botched this. Look, I realize you ... distrust us. My psycho-bitch of a sister did something incredibly awful to you.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “My uncle ... what he did was unforgiveable.” What appears to be genuine sadness fills her eyes. “As the Goddess of Love, you must believe me when I tell you that there is nothing I can say or do that will ever excuse those actions. I would never want to. It grieves me terribly to know that my family has abused innocents more times than I care to count. Please believe there are those of us in the Assembly who are trying to change things. Who don’t approve of such actions, who refuse to participate in them.” Her mouth, so wide and joyful with smiles at the start of the evening, is now a grim flat line. “Yes, you are the first person changed back who we’ve happened to take an interest in and have made efforts to get to know. You cannot be surprised that this is due to my brother. I’ll admit to it; but I’ll also admit that I trust Hermes implicitly. While the family often ...” She pauses, as if she’s choosing her words carefully. “Disagrees with one another, he and I have nearly always been on the same side. He is my favorite brother, Medusa. And to be completely honest, the only sibling
I
trust. So when he came and told me, told those of us he is close with, that an injustice had been done by our family and it needed to be rectified, I believed him.
We
believed him. He told us that you two had grown close—and when my brother tells me he trusts somebody, I take that seriously. Because he does not trust easily. None of us do, not in this shark-filled family.”

Well, don’t I feel like a total judgmental jerk once more.

“I am here tonight, because if my brother cares about you and wants you in his life, I will support him in this. I was sincere when I said I looked forward to getting to know you. I still do. I hope you would like to get to know me, too. That is, of course, your choice. It would please me greatly if we became friends. Not because you are an,”—her nose scrunches up—“
ex-monster
, or because you are a pet, or whatever else you fear you are to us.” She leans forward, tentatively reaching out for my still trembling hands. “You had every reason to go mad years ago. And yet ... you didn’t. You still have love in your heart. Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with someone like that?”

I’m perilously close to breaking down in tears. All these years, I’ve been so distraught over the rumors about me, over how anyone could judge me without knowing me, and I am absolutely guilty of just the same.

The door opens again, bringing Persephone into the powder room. “Everything okay in here? You two have been gone a long time.”

When she looks at me and nods her head in the tiniest way, I realize Aphrodite is telling me that, no matter what I say right now, she will back me up.

Somehow or other, the ice is holding fast. And right now, in this moment, it’s also gone silent.

So I turn to Persephone and give her a tremulous smile. It’s small, but at least it’s not fake. “Yeah. I just ... I had an anxiety attack. It’s ... I guess the crowds got to me. I’m sorry that I’ve delayed our dinner.”

She’s immediately by my side, concern practically dripping off of her. “Anxiety attack?” Her eyes zero in Aphrodite. “What happened?”

I am so ashamed. My vision blurs as tears fill my eyes. I am hopeless at this. If she’d smote me during my attack, I wouldn’t have blamed Aphrodite. Goddess or no, I basically just accused her of lying to me, which isn’t friendly in the least.

No wonder I’ve only ever managed to make two friends.

“Nothing unexpected, Aunt.” She squeezes my hands and then stands up. “Medusa and I just had a heart-to-heart, and I think we understand each other the better for it.”

I stand up, too, wiping at my eyes. “I’m sorry. I ... I’m not good at this.”

Persephone then steps forward and wraps her arms around me. I let my face fall against her shoulder as quiet sobs that I refuse to let break free shudder throughout me. It’s painful, but I just can’t lose control. Not here, not now.

“No one expects you to be, darling,” she murmurs, her hand gently stroking my hair. And as lovely a feeling as it is, as soothing as it is, this action from her feels completely different than when Hermes does it.

Why is that?

Aphrodite wraps her arms around me from the other side, so that I’m sandwiched in between these two women’s hugs. It’s a surprisingly comforting for someone suffering from extreme claustrophobia just a half hour before. We stay like that, hugging one another, until the shudders quell and the anxiety passes.

We don’t go back to the table; instead, the two goddesses lead me outside to where the car is already waiting. Talos, who’d been standing like a sentinel next to the rear door, comes forward so he can murmur something in Persephone’s ear; at the same time, Aphrodite says to me, “Would you be up for some company tomorrow? I could come over and we could just talk. Or, if that’s too much, watch a movie. Or take a walk in the groves. Or, play a board game. Lady’s choice.” Her smile reappears at the same time Hades and Hephaestus come outside.

The truth is, right now, all I want to do is crawl into bed. But I also think I like the idea of making a girlfriend. If she’s sincere, I’d be a fool to pass up this opportunity. Hermes adores Aphrodite; I’ve always heard wonderful things about her. If she wants us to get to know one another, maybe it’s time I become open to the possibility of letting somebody else in. Just as I’m about to tell her yes, Hades says in a stern tone that sends shivers up and down my spine, “Ladies, in the car. Now.”

Aphrodite’s head rears back, almost as if he slapped her. It’s clear she’s not used to being told what to do.

“Sweetheart, I beg you to do as he says,” Hephaestus tells his wife. Talos has the door opened, and I am the first person he chooses to pull into the limo.

“What is going on?” Aphrodite is saying, but Talos must have grabbed her right after me, because before the last word comes out of her mouth, she’s in the limo, too. Persephone quickly follows suit, and the door is slammed shut without an answer given.

“What is happening?” Aphrodite tries again, this time to Persephone. “What did your Automaton tell you?”

Persephone’s smile is brittle and altogether fake; it scares me. I’ve never seen her so unnerved. “Nothing to worry about. It’s late, and I’m tired—and I am sure Dusa needs her rest. She ran over an hour for Telesphoros today, you know. It’s a miracle she didn’t fall asleep during dinner tonight. I think I would have.”

Talos gets in and turns the car on. As we pull away from the curb, Aphrodite glances through the back window. “What about—” Her words trail away before her head snaps forward.

Her smile is just as fake as her aunt’s.

Okay. What is going on here?

I crane my neck around to see what she saw, even though both goddesses warn me not to. And as we drive away, I see Hades and Hephaestus on the curb in front of the restaurant, seemingly in the midst of an angry confrontation with none other than Poseidon, with Athena by his side.