Medusa glared at Athena’s statue as she waited in the alcoved shrine. The statue stood at least five feet tall, depicting the goddess wielding a spear, with a majestic owl perched on her left shoulder.

The plan was simple, once her parents showed up at the back garden, she would perform the chant of apparition just like she learned during her time as a priestess.

See? The goddess is also in agreement, Father. Please, let me visit Aunt Phorcydes!

“Ah, this is stupid.” Medusa facepalmed and sighed. Even though her parents revered the goddess, misgiving still lingered. What if they freak out when they see Athena’s image? The more she thought of her plan, the more foolish she felt, but she had already sent words for her parents to come.

In a sudden burst of irrational reasoning, Medusa considered coming clean.

No. It was too much of a risk.

Even if by some miracle Phorcys believed her, he was an ant deity of the weakest category—with immortality and a few tricks being the only things he could show for it. Athena could crush him in a single breath.

What Medusa was about to attempt was the only way.

Kneeling with her back to the statue, Medusa waited.

The backdoor heaved open, and she looked just in time to see Phorcys and Ceto walk into the back garden. Unlike the gentle expression Phorcys had worn at the beach that morning, his face had reverted to expressionless.

“Father. Mother.” Medusa bowed when they stopped before the shrine. “I give my greeting.”

“Why is she doing this?” Ceto asked Phorcys instead of responding to Medusa’s greeting. Her eyes were wide with worry. “Is it because of her strange mood?”

Phorcys eyes lingered on Athena’s statue before focusing on Medusa. “You said you wish to show us something?”

Releasing a long breath, Medusa hoped her innocent expression remained unshaken because the tightness in her chest was worsening.

“Father, do you recall the dream I shared yesterday? The one with Aunt Phorcydes and Hesperides burning?”

A puzzled frown broke Phorcys’ flat expression. “What is this about?”

“In my sleep this afternoon, the dream came to me again. I said a prayer, and I think Athena visited me.” Medusa widened her eyes and scrunched her brow, hoping her expression showed naive sincerity.

“What are you saying?” Ceto drew even closer to Phorcys as if scared. “Darling, what is she saying?” She gazed up at her husband as if he held all the answers.

“Go on,” Phorcys said.

“I came to the shrine to say a prayer to Athena’s statue the way the teacher taught me and something strange happened.”

Medusa quickly clasped her hands before her father could speak. Shutting her eyes and frowning in concentration, she began the chants.

The smell of juniper leaves tickled her nose followed by the heavy roll of nausea in her belly, but she gritted her teeth and pressed on.

Her parents' devotion to the goddess was near cult-like. This may work—please, work.

The air around Medusa thickened. Soon flecks of golden light would display the image of Athena.

“Phorcys.” There was a rising note of panic in Ceto’s voice. “I do not like this. Make her stop.”

Before Medusa could finish the chant, hands grabbed her shoulders and jerked her to her feet.

Eyes flying open, Medusa met the terrified stare of her father. Never in her life had she seen such an expression on Phorcys’ face. He was drained of colour.

“Who taught you that?” He demanded in a harsh voice.

Medusa’s heart thundered within her chest. This wasn't the reaction she expected. “No one—”

“Speak the truth. Was it Guilo? That damned teacher. But there is no way—” Phorcys’ suddenly stopped speaking and whirled around.

Medusa could not fully comprehend what happened next. One moment, Phorcys stood before her in his white evening toga and the next his robe turned dark blue with black smoke-like aura outlining his form.

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The smell of marine accords reached Medusa and overtook Ceto’s rose scent. There was also a sudden pressure as if the air had become twice as thick. Goose flesh raced across her arm. This presence did not feel like something an ant deity should possess.

A black glass dagger materialised in Phorcys’ grip and he flung it at a tree to their left without looking.

The screech of a bird. Something dropped like stone from the branches. When Medusa took a closer look, she recognised the remains of an owl.

Phorcys hurried over and touched the ground next to the bird. Decay set in until nothing but a patch of dead grass remained. After a short tense moment, the dark aura around him vanished, and so did the smell of marine accords and the dark hue of his clothes.

Appearing stunned, Ceto crumbled to her knees and released a keening wail.

There was a catastrophic knowing on Medusa’s inside. I’ve messed up. This is a mistake.

Phorcys’ attention swung to Medusa. With each step he took in her direction, she took another away until her back touched Athena’s cold statue. Flinching, she sidled away, but there was nowhere to go when Phorcys stopped before her.

Instead of meeting her father's gaze, Medusa stared at her sandaled feet. Her heart was in her throat. She assumed her parents revered Athena but it seemed that wasn’t the case judging from how spectacularly her attempt to deceive them failed. Ceto was still loudly weeping in the background.

Medusa gasped when Phorcys embraced her. His heartbeat hammered against hers.

“What were you thinking?” He mumbled in a shaky voice. “You must go. Tonight, you must leave.”

Phorcys leaned back and pushed a lock of Medusa’s hair behind her ear. His fingers were trembling. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know about the spies. Her eyes are everywhere. Never think it's your fault.”

“Father?” What was so terrible that got him this shaken? “Whose eyes?”

Don’t tell me…

Clotho? Medusa called out through the link.

“Come.” Phorcys took Medusa’s hand and led her to the villa.

Medusa spared a backward glance before the door shut behind her. Ceto still wept, her deep harrowing sobs reminding Medusa of when she lost Antonii.

Would Athena kill Phorcys? But that was impossible. Deities couldn’t die... yet.

Clotho, are you there? “Please answer,” Medusa whispered with a shaky voice.

Her father shouted something Medusa didn’t catch to one of the guards as he hurried down the corridor leading to the stairs. The guard rushed to do as he was instructed.

You called for me.

Medusa nearly wept in relief when Clotho answered.

I’ve done something terrible.

Phorcys carried Medusa and took the stairs two at a time. When he turned to the left, she realised he was heading to his study.

What happened?

I wanted to convince my parents to let me go so I used the chant of apparition. My father suddenly killed an owl and now he looks panicked.

…

Say something, Clotho.

After entering the study, Phorcys carefully placed Medusa on her feet and rushed to his desk. His hands still shook as he retrieved a parchment and grabbed a quill.

“Father, what’s going on?”

“You will go to my sister.” His quill flew across the parchment as he wrote.

Clotho!

Be patient. My memory is not what it used to be. Let me think.

After Phorcys finished writing, he retrieved a carved wooden box from one of the shelves behind him, opened it and pulled out a thin gold necklace with no pendant.

You said your father killed an owl?

Yes.

Now I understand. Her eyes. Athena uses Owls as her many eyes. If the watcher had vanished after seeing you manifest Athena’s apparition, I cannot imagine what Athena would do.

Medusa’s heart sank as she swayed on her feet. I was foolish.

Phorcys folded the parchment before walking around his desk and hunkering to her height. His gaze searched hers for a moment. Fear was no longer present, only sadness. “My child, please survive.”

Phorcys touched his forehead to hers. There was a feeling of cool water rushing through her veins, but the feeling vanished when Phorcys pulled away.

Medusa gasped and touched Phorcys’ face. “Father, you look…” There were dark circles under his eyes and he suddenly seemed haggard.

Shame and deep regret crushed Medusa.

I was foolish. I should have told him the truth. What have I done?

“I am sorry, Father.” She must tell him now. “There is something I must tell you—”

“Take this and give it to Phorcydes once you reach the bogs.” Phorcys handed over the folded parchment.

“I—”

“Never take this off.” Phorcys clasped the chain around Medusa’s neck. “It will keep you from her eyes.”

“Whose eyes? What is happening?” Medusa searched Phorcys’ gaze. He appeared exhausted—like a third of his lifespan had been shaved off him. “Please, tell me.”

The muscles of his jaw ticked as he shook his head. “It is the responsibility of a parent to protect their child.”

It almost seemed like Phorcys couldn't speak a bad word against Athena. What was this?

Phorcys carried Medusa once more and made his way out of his study. “At the bogs, do not draw attention to yourself by doing what you did today. Nod if you promise me.”

Medusa mutely nodded. Why did this sound like a permanent goodbye?

As if Phorcys heard her thought, he held her tighter and gently swept a hand down her back. “I will come for you, I promise. Do not cry or be sad. I swear to come for you.”

Medusa nodded again. She couldn’t find her voice or shake off the dread. Something awful was coming and she was the catalyst.

Clotho, I’m leaving for the bogs. But something is not right.

Clotho was quiet for the longest time. It was not until Medusa was sitting in a cushioned carriage, Rico on her lap and Galene sitting across from her that Clotho replied in a subdued voice.

I will meet you in two days.