Stone Blind(63)

‘I suppose so,’ said Medusa.

‘It’s true,’ replied Sthenno. ‘You were so small and could hardly move. And then you grew longer and then you stood up and grew taller.’

‘The noise,’ Euryale added.

‘You used to cry,’ Sthenno agreed. ‘And then you learned to talk.’

‘But I was always me,’ said Medusa. ‘I never changed.’

‘You always changed and never changed,’ Sthenno said.

‘Then how did you know I was still Medusa?’

‘Because of the ways you stayed the same,’ Euryale said. ‘Everything changes except the gods. We don’t think the sheep have stopped being sheep because we sheared them.’

Medusa ate in silence for a while. ‘But you always had each other,’ she said. ‘And you never change.’

Sthenno looked at Euryale and smiled, her outermost tusks pointing in towards her nose. ‘We do change,’ she said. ‘You changed us, when you came here.’

‘And you didn’t mind?’ Medusa asked.

‘No,’ said Euryale. ‘Gorgons aren’t supposed to be like gods. We belong here, in the place between the land and the sea, not on a lofty mountain. They put our image on the outside of temples, not within. We look out on mortals, not down on them. When Phorcys delivered you to our shore, he brought you to where you needed to be.’

‘So I wouldn’t die, or embarrass him,’ said Medusa. The Gorgons had discussed this a great deal before.

‘Yes,’ said Sthenno. ‘And so we would become three, as we were meant to be.’

‘How do you know we were meant to be three?’

‘Because we are three now,’ Sthenno replied. ‘You ask so many questions.’

‘So was I meant to have snake hair? Was I meant to be more like you?’ Medusa asked. And this, Euryale realized, was the question that had been gnawing at her sister’s heart.

‘No,’ she said. ‘That was just Athene, finding a clever way to punish you. Clever, as she thinks of it, I mean. She would have been so pleased with herself, punishing you by making you a monster, like your sisters.’

‘You aren’t monsters,’ Medusa said.

‘Neither are you. Who decides what is a monster?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Medusa. ‘Men, I suppose.’

‘So to mortal men, we are monsters. Because of our teeth, our flight, our strength. They fear us, so they call us monsters.’

‘But they don’t know who you are.’ Medusa stopped eating and turned from one sister to the other. The snakes never stopped swirling around her head. ‘Men call you monsters because they don’t understand you.’

‘I don’t mind being a monster,’ Euryale replied. ‘I would rather have power than not. I like being what scares them.’ There was a pause. ‘I like you having snakes,’ she added. ‘I didn’t like how they hurt you at first. I didn’t like how you lost your hair. But I don’t see this change as any different from the others, except we know who caused this one.’

‘I don’t mind the snakes as much now,’ said Medusa. ‘I do miss my hair.’





Panopeia


He is almost upon them, though he doesn’t know it. He has travelled across the sea and along the coast, and he has never stopped petitioning his father for aid. He knows he cannot do what has been asked of him without divine assistance. Some people, I know, find humility an endearing trait. Others might wonder why one bastard child deserves so much attention.

And now he is closing in on the Gorgons, ready to kill a creature that has done him no harm just to acquire a trophy for a man he despises. Men often kill for trophies, I suppose: animals, certainly. But not the children of gods. Not often. And not with the help of other, mightier gods.

It makes me wonder – and I never wonder because I see it all – is no one going to rouse Phorcys? Will no one call to Ceto? Will these immortals not rise up from the deep to protect their daughter? Perseus wants to save his mother from marriage: will neither of these sea gods intervene to save their daughter from death? From mutilation? Are they afraid of Zeus or has no one told them she is in danger?

Her sisters don’t know what’s coming, of that I am sure. Neither would blink before she defended Medusa from a son of Zeus, no matter how much power he had. Euryale would tear his head from his shoulders and take the consequences without fear.

And perhaps she will. Because I have watched Perseus for many days now, and he is as likely to fail in his quest as succeed, I would say.

From the water, all we can do is watch.





Athene


‘But we only just got back.’ The goddess scuffed her foot against the perfect marble floor.

‘Well, how fortunate that you can be anywhere more or less instantly,’ said Zeus.

‘I know, but . . .’

‘But nothing. He is my son and I’m asking you to go and help him.’

‘We have helped him,’ Athene snapped. ‘If it hadn’t been for me he would have drowned in a box years ago.’

‘He is praying to me all the time,’ said her father.

‘Because he can’t do anything for himself,’ she replied. ‘Because we keep helping him.’