Stone Blind(43)

‘What do you want?’ Chrysothemis finally asked the boy and he mumbled something about the Graiai and a quest. He stumbled over his words and mangled his story at every stage, but eventually, the nymphs uncovered what had happened. He was on a quest to take a Gorgon’s head to appease some mortal who would otherwise marry the boy’s mother. Even Arethusa was intrigued by this element: what could the man possibly do with a Gorgon’s head that would compensate him for losing a wife? Surely the more suitable gift would be a bride who liked him better than the boy’s mother apparently did? The nymphs murmured among themselves, aware that the boy could not hear them unless they chose. The whole thing sounded so peculiar. What had the Gorgons done to be embroiled in this young man’s family matters? Nothing, came the reply. As far as they could tell, he did not seem to have thought about the Gorgons at all. Ordered to fetch the head of one of them, he had simply set out to do so with no thought for how the Gorgon might feel about giving it up.

So did they send him away empty-handed? That was the most obvious response. And yet, Athene and Hermes had brought him here: two gods working together could only mean that they were carrying out the will of Zeus, surely? And although the nymphs largely shared a view on the subject of Zeus, they could not wholly disregard what the old lech wanted. Especially not if he was sending Athene – as observant as she was spiteful – and Hermes, who would tell tales if they ignored him.

And then there was the matter of the Graiai. The grey sisters were not easily impressed. And the boy must have done something to earn their help. He was rather vague about exactly what that had been. Hesperie – who had joined the debate even though she wasn’t interested in the outcome – said he must have been very persuasive for the gods to help him, and the sisters too. So they should assist him in his quest, should they? Lipara was quite sure they should not, at least not until her laurel tree had regrown its missing branch. He had said something about the number of days he had left before the man married his mother regardless of his quest. But who could remember how many days it took a laurel tree to grow?

Whatever the nymphs felt about Perseus, they decided it could not influence their decision. The presence of the gods, the involvement of the Graiai: these things were too important to overlook. What did a mortal need to decapitate a Gorgon? There was evidently no point asking the boy what he required: he hadn’t even known he needed the nymphs until the Graiai told him. So they worked it out among themselves, while he stood there, useless and hopeful. A sword, obviously. He had one already but it was like a child’s practice sword, although all the Hesperides agreed that he had no idea this was the case. He carried his sword with great seriousness, but looked like a boy playing with his father’s weapon. So he needed something suited to the task: a harpē, with its vicious curved blade, would be more appropriate. And something to carry the head, once he had it. They discussed the options. There was a kibisis hidden away somewhere: that would take the weight. Very well, the sword, the bag, what else? He would need to move a great deal faster than mortals usually could if he was to outrun the Gorgons. And he would need to hide from them. The nymphs considered these requirements for some time. Winged sandals, usually worn by Hermes, would be ideal: the messenger god could loan the boy his shoes. Hermes could travel perfectly well without them, they were just an affectation. But they did have one more item they could lend Perseus and after much discussion, they agreed they would. The nymphs had come into possession – none of them could quite recall how – of a cap that had once belonged to Hades. No one could imagine why he would have needed a cap which threw darkness all around it, rendering the wearer invisible. Hades was in the Underworld or – occasionally – on Olympus. In neither of these places would he ever need to go unseen. Perhaps this was why he had given it to whichever nymph had brought it to the island. Or she had acquired it, assuming Hades didn’t need it any more. And while they were on the subject of who needed what, if Perseus was borrowing winged sandals from Hermes, the nymphs could surely keep his shoes. Should they ask, before sending him on his way? He had left them unattended beside their lake, on their island, so that meant the sandals practically belonged to the Hesperides already. One nymph had already worn them, another had put them safely beneath a rock. They glanced down at him, and it was perfectly clear that Perseus would leave barefoot rather than ask for his sandals back.

*

When Athene and Hermes arrived to collect him, Perseus was sitting where they had left him. His curly hair was mussed, his tunic appeared to be back to front. He had a dazed expression and was holding the straps of a golden bag in his left hand. It was large and sturdy, decorated with silver tassels. Neither god needed to ask what it was for. In his right hand, he held a curved blade which – again, both gods knew – had once belonged to Zeus. He really did prize the bratty child if he had let the Hesperides give him this sword. On his lap, the boy held a winged cap, which Hermes recognized, having worn it many times himself. Hades was terrible at keeping track of his possessions: he really should be more careful.

‘Where are your shoes?’ asked Athene. Perseus looked at his bare feet as though seeing them for the first time.

‘I’m not sure,’ he said.

‘Typical,’ muttered Hermes. ‘They really will take anything.’

‘That’s why I don’t usually come here,’ Athene replied. ‘They can’t leave a single thing alone.’