That was more effective than the root word I gave you. Clotho laughed. She was still caught up in the excitement of Medusa’s win. You used your knowledge of alien languages to modify it. Am I correct?

Yes. From what Medusa could see from the distance, the instructors were having a heated debate. No one gave instructions on what to do next, so she simply stood at the centre of the arena with the fast-dispersing ash of the heron to her left. Clotho, I—

Another unexpected variable. Clotho’s voice turned contemplative. How interesting. Hmm…

Medusa needed to tell Clotho about the strange being she met but the goddess was distracted. It seemed modifying breathing had shocked her. Now she mumbled in Theos tongue, almost as if she had forgotten their mind link was still open.

Clotho, when I nearly died, I met a—

“For the first time in Drys Valon’s history, a contender completed the challenge in less than half a horai!”

The crowd cheered. Even more eyes on her. Medusa resisted the urge to shift on her feet or cross her arms; showing a bold front was important in this kind of environment.

But what was this strange feeling? She had gotten the same sensation when she left the auction house—a sense of being watched, though this time it felt heavier and more oppressive.

Ignore the outsiders, Clotho said as if she could read Medusa’s mind. There’s a reason Demeter is called the Wicked Woman; every child in Drys Valon is under her protection. You should be more concerned about the students. I sense their wariness and envy… even ill intent.

Not again. Medusa groaned internally. She could deal with a few envious teens, but the mean-spirited calculating ones were the worst. In all her lives, such clashes were recurrent with one ending in her death.

Death. Medusa stopped herself from touching her neck. She was certain that the angry goddess would have severed her head if she hadn’t regained consciousness at the last moment.

I must be careful. Near-death experiences were a no-no from now on.

Medusa sighed as her mental exhaustion doubled. When last did she get proper sleep? And what next? She was sick of standing and getting speared with stares.

Someone stepped into the Arena. At first, Medusa thought he was a child, but she quickly dismissed the idea when he stopped in front of her. His sharp, worldly eyes and dignified gait and posture suggested otherwise. A midget probably.

He looked up and offered a quick smile. “I am Thersandros.”

Medusa frowned. This voice… he was the herald. Quite surprising. She had expected some mouthy loony, not a midget with a commanding aura.

“Thank you for the performance,” he said in a low, measured voice. “That was beyond commendable for an unawakened mortal.”

Unsure of how to respond, Medusa said her thanks with a straight face.

“As a gift for your entertaining performance, you may ask me any three questions in the future.” A haughty smile touched his lips as he tapped his temple. “I know many useful things within and outside the shores of Tartarus.”

Before she could respond, he turned to the crowd. “You have all been waiting for this moment!”

Medusa's brow shot up. How did he make his voice so loud without hurting her ears? Was it aether manipulation? If she used the principles of aether Clotho taught her, could she achieve that too?

Clotho said aether was more abundant in Tartarus. What if she combined her recent knowledge of aether, applied breathing and shouted? How much damage would that cause? Goose pimples raced across her arms at the catastrophic possibility.

No. Medusa stomped out the thought. She suspected that shouting with enhanced aether, even unintentionally, would be extremely dangerous—not just for her target but for herself as well.

“Which house gets May, daughter of Venetis? The Manticores, Hydras, Chimeras, or Dogs?” Thersandros pointed to each section of the spectators as he called their names, eliciting cheers from all but the Dogs, who met him with stony silence.

“I have the verdict here!” He raised a small stone slab before bringing it to his face to read its contents. The corner of his lips kicked up. “As many would expect, May will be joining the Manti—”

He stopped talking and inclined his head to the left. “I see…” He glanced Medusa’s way with a look of confusion before shifting his gaze back to the stone slab. “Yes. Yes. As many would expect, May will be joining the Dogs.”

A collective gasp. Even Clotho gasped before bursting into laughter. So many variables with this one. How refreshing.

Medusa would have laughed as well but her mood was fast tanking. I need to sleep. Despite breathing getting rid of her fatigue, there was another weariness she was feeling, almost like she had exceeded her brain’s capacity. Her mental exhaustion was worsening.

I will be back.

Wait—

Before Medusa could finish speaking, Clotho’s presence vanished.

Medusa looked at the section where the dogs sat. If they were happy to have her in their team, it did not show. Their silence remained, some even standing to leave.

“What did you do to anger the goddess?”

Medusa blinked down at Thersandros. Though his stoic expression remained, she sensed a pressure on her mind to satisfy his curiosity.

“Are you a member of a spying guild?”

Surprise flashed in his eyes. “How did you…?” Wariness soon replaced surprise. He frowned and observed her more carefully. “Who are you?”

Should she have simply answered his question? Having the attention of a spy before she had settled in was beyond burdensome. “I’ve been told I’m strange for a mortal.” Which was true. “I sensed something odd about your question, and my question slipped before I could stop it.” Another truth.

From the corner of her eyes, Medusa saw more spectators were beginning to leave.

“I see.” He touched his chin, still frowning with suspicion. “How old are you?”

“May.” It was Nestor who called. She turned in time to see him step into the arena and nod at Thersandros. The herald offered a sharp bow and took his leave, but not before promising to see her around. Whatever that meant.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Like I said, you did not need my encouragement,” Nestor said.

Medusa could almost swear she saw a subtle but proud smile.

“Follow me. Your reward awaits.”

***

In the wooden box were three mid-grade aether stones, two scroll canisters, a uniform—dyed brown mid-thigh tunic with leather trimmings—and an armband with a hound’s head engraving. She could also keep the beaded band until she awakened.

“The stones are a reward for all who finish their trial on the first try,” Nestor said as he led her down a pristine passageway. According to Nestor, this was the administrative wing that housed instructors’ offices and collection posts.

“Usually, winners receive two mid-grade stones but an extra was added because you broke a record.”

“Thanks.” Even though she was clueless on how to use aether stones.

“You should thank the goddess. It is her we are going to meet.”

Face Demeter again? Medusa held the box tighter as she recalled the goddess’s earlier rage. “Is she still angry?”

“She watched your performance and wished to see you.” They turned left and came upon a corridor that opened to a fanciful courtyard paved with polished onyx tiles and a bubbling fountain at its centre.

“Perhaps this is good for you,” Nestor mused as they continued across the courtyard. “You may have impressed her.”

“Oh.”

Soon they stopped before a plain wooden door. After knocking once, it opened without a sound.

Demeter was waiting in a sitting area overlooking a small vibrant garden. Her posture was stiff with her small hands primly resting on her thighs and the hem of her dress pooled around her feet.

At least the angry tension had lifted. Medusa exhaled in relief. Perhaps if she asked for Rico again, she might show mercy.

Nestor gestured for Medusa to settle across the goddess. A decanter holding what resembled wine and a polished goblet sat on the low table between them. It reminded her of her first meeting with Clotho but a thousand times less grand.

“You surprised me,” Demeter finally said after a stretch of silence.

Medusa scanned the small garden. No sign of Rico. Her focus returned to the goddess. Turning her expression imploring, she clasped her hands and bowed. “I beg you to show this mortal benevolence and return my pet. He's a precious gift from my father.”

“Oh. You should have said so earlier,” she said dryly before reaching for the decanter and pouring the red liquid into the goblet. “First, tell me how you did it?”

“Did what?”

“How could you move with such speed despite being a mortal?” She tilted her head and pierced Medusa with a probing stare. “You are an unawakened blood carrier; moving like that should be impossible. Tell me how you did it.”

If Clotho didn’t trust Demeter with that detail, neither would Medusa. “I was simply desperate to survive.”

“Hmmm. Desperate to survive.” Demeter’s brow bunched, the action shattering the serenity of her doll-like face. “That is a feeling I cannot…” Her gaze slid back to Medusa. “And the language you spoke before you killed the bird? It sounded like Theos tongue but not.”

“I’m certain I spoke Greek,” Medusa answered. She made sure to keep her tone earnest and her gaze unwavering.

“Are you saying I am mistaken? Nestor,” She inclined her head in his direction, “you also heard her speak in a strange tongue, yes?”

“You are correct,” he answered with a subtle bow.

Her flat gaze returned to Medusa. “See?”

“I was speaking Greek,” Medusa repeated. And she was getting tired of this conversation. She longed for a bed… and Rico.

“Do you know what it means for a deity to feel curiosity?” Light sparked in the goddess’s eyes before vanishing almost as fast. “You make me curious, mortal girl.”

“I do not know if I should be flattered or terrified,” Medusa replied flatly. The more her exhaustion grew, the more she didn’t give a damn if she was speaking to a deity or some random rock. “Can you tell me what I must do to get my pet?”

The goddess released a sound between a huff and a dry chuckle. “She doesn’t even sound like a child.”

A vial containing blue liquid appeared in Demeter’s hand. She raised it to a shaft of sunlight and peered at its content. “You do not know what your days in Drys Valon would be like.” She took her time uncocking the vial. “Yet, you wish to drag a poor kitten along.” She tipped the vial. One blue drop fell into her cup. A wisp of purple smoke curled out before dispersing. “One moment you act like a brat and the next you speak like a worn cynical soul. You make me curious.”

Demeter emptied the goblet in one gulp.

The change was instant. Her stiff posture loosened as she sank into her seat with a drawn-out sigh. Though her eyes were shut, they moved behind her lids as she clutched the arms of her chair in a death grip.

Medusa eyed the vial with suspicion. Was that some kind of cocaine for deities? Nestor also appeared surprised.

“Do not look so wary.” Even the goddess’ voice changed to a breezy cadence. She opened her eyes. The earlier flatness was gone, replaced by a relaxed but clear shine. “It helps me remember…” her voice faded with a note of sadness. “Yes, even the bad memories, all are precious,” she mumbled.

“Huh?” Medusa looked from puzzled Nestor to the goddess. “What’s happening?”

“You said you want your pet back.” Demeter waved. Like an illusion falling away, a cage appeared at her feet.

“Rico!” Medusa attempted to rise but found she couldn’t. The goddess had gotten her vines on her without her notice. They curled around her torso, fastening her to her seat.

“No matter how I look at it, the name Rico doesn’t suit him.” The goddess fixed adoring eyes on Rico and to Medusa’s delight he bore his little fangs and hissed at her.

“Cute.” With her focus still on Rico, she said, “Perhaps, Menis or Orge. Fierce names.”

“His name is Rico,” Medusa spat.

The goddess blinked at her. “What a strange girl.” Sighing, she straightened. “Fine. I give you five months.”

“To do what?”

“I had a water cat when I was nine. Her name was Ari,” Demeter said with a soft wistful smile.

Medusa gawked. “You… you were once nine?” Even Nestor appeared shocked. How? Didn’t high deities manifest like stars fully formed?

At their reaction, Demeter cackled—full-bellied laughter with her head thrown back and shoulders shaking. “Oh Nestor, do not widen your eyes in such a manner. You look like a fish owl.”

Catching her breath, she wiped tears off the corner of her eyes. “I haven’t laughed this hard in ages. Even my face hurts but I love it.” She cradled her cheeks and shook her head, eyes sparkling with delight. “By Nyx, I love Blue Tears.”

“Demeter,” Nestor appeared genuinely concerned as he took a tentative step in her direction, “What has happened to you?”

“I’m alive, can’t you see? You wouldn’t understand. You’re still a baby after all.” She turned to Medusa. “Make something out of them and you will have your pet back.”

“Out of who?”

“The Dog House.”

Medusa looked at Nestor for clarity but his expression remained troubled as he continued observing the goddess.

“I do not understand.”

“The longest time it took me to tame a beast was one month,” Demeter said and returned her focus to the cage. Rico pressed against the corner but the goddess didn’t seem to mind his aversion for her. “With a water cat, it should be far less. Five months is a merciful consideration. Do you understand?” She slid her gaze to Medusa.

Medusa bit the inside of her lower lip as understanding dawned. What a shameless thing to do. “Thank you for your generous consideration,” she said past gritted teeth. “By making something of them, what do you mean?”

“Most of those in Dog House come from wealthy and powerful houses. Their sponsors paid a hefty fee, and some students came through recommendations from high deities I couldn’t refuse. I wish to show results.”

“So, you need a mortal girl to make them show results?” She had never heard something more ridiculous.

“Correct!” Demeter said with a bright smile. If the goddess was pretty before, her unrestrained smile shot her looks to the stratosphere.

Medusa scowled. “Did you forget how old I am?”

“Fourteen,” Demeter answered as she made cute faces at Rico. He hissed in response.

“You gave me an impossible task to justify taking Rico from me,” Medusa muttered bitterly.

“I’m a high goddess and, in case you’ve forgotten, also the owner of this establishment.” Demeter waved and Rico winked out of sight. “If I want your pet, I can simply take it.”

The vines holding Medusa fell away and slithered out of sight. “So, why not simply take him?”

“Would you believe me if I said I see potential in you?” The goddess rested her chin on her fist and lazily smiled at Medusa. “But you don’t look like you believe me.”

When Medusa said nothing, Demeter stood and stretched with a graceful arch. There was a look of thorough relaxation on her face.

“Nestor, you may take her to the dogs.” The vial of Blue Tears vanished as she retrieved her decanter and goblet. “Now that I remember what’s important, I should go on a trip. Nestor, you are in charge.”

Raising her goblet in a playful salute, she winked out of sight.