“I’m not.” I answered too quickly. I didn’t even believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

  “Shame.”

  I hovered at the edge of the grove, arms folded, gaze trained anywhere but on her. I could see the girl’s hair now — still damp at the ends, tangled with salt and wind. Her hands were covered in dust. She looked entirely mortal. And entirely at home.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I muttered softly, almost to myself. “This place… isn’t safe.”

  “Because of you?”

  “Because of everything.” My voice was sharp, too sharp. It snagged in the air between them.

  But Evadne didn’t flinch. She just ran her fingers along the stone again, tracing old patterns. “It doesn’t feel dangerous. It feels… sad.”

  I felt my jaw tighten, as if without my permission.

  “You can leave,” I said, though it was barely more than a whisper. “You can go wherever you want on this island. It’s all broken. You’ll fit right in.”

  Evadne hummed. “That sounds suspiciously like permission.”

  “How did you get here from the beach?” The question was out of my mouth before I could think better of it. “You don’t… you don’t have to answer that.” Cheeks flushed. And then, through gritted teeth. “Sorry.”

  I turned to go, like a scorned child . I didn’t know why my throat felt tight. Why my fingers curled in on themselves. Why, that laugh — light and sure and undeserved — wrapped around my ribs like ivy.

  “I walked,” she said, an uncanny etherealness laced into her words. “Poorly, but I walked.”

  I turned just slightly, looking over my shoulder. Evadne had stood, her matted tunic falling just above her knees. My breath caught as my eyes scanned over scraped-up knees, muddy feet. In her hand, Evadne held onto a shoulder-high stick, fingers clutching at the branch.

  “Be careful, intruder. It would be a shame to find your corpse in the morning.”

  8

  The sun set later on that day, the warmth of its rays disappearing from my cheeks.

  I didn’t wander far from the pool after the embarrassment of stumbling my way here… Of learning, truly, how to walk again, I thought it best I stayed put.

  I felt like I should mourn. Mourn the loss of my life, the loss of my freedom, the loss of my sight. But grief didn’t come to me. I sat and waited, feet pressed against the smooth metal of the basin, but it never came.

  But I did find myself blinking rapidly, as if I could clear my vision by sheer force alone.

  Surprising to no one… I couldn’t.

  I had resigned myself to death on that ship, settled my scores and eased my consciousness before the storm hit.

  Maybe this was Hades’ domain. Maybe my punishment was a slow, lingering death.

  A blind death.

  But then there was Medusa.

  Presumably, the Gorgon that haunted these islands.

  She wasn’t that frightening.

  Had she been welcoming? Not exactly.

  But… she hadn’t killed me either.

  She’d fed me, permitted me to walk the islands, even talked with me.

  I craved her companionship more than I should have.

  I could try to convince myself it was just an innate need for camaraderie that drove me to desire her company. I was only human, after all.

  My lips tipped upwards as I thought about how the other woman had reacted to my brazenness, my teasing words.

  I might not have been able to see her face, but I could feel how uncomfortable she had been when I had complimented her.

  It had been delicious.

  When I was younger, before I had been wed to Capaneus, my eyes might have wandered to the women that assisted my mother with the home. To visitors of Argos that I had stumbled across.

  But for a woman like me, a woman of light stature and name, it was forbidden. I was always going to marry a man who could elevate my station, elevate the name of my father.

  Perhaps the punishment for my transgressions was to waste away on an island with a woman adjacent to a goddess, and never get to lay sights on her.

  That seemed cruel.

  A laugh bubbled up from my throat, escaping loudly into the quiet of the night around me.

  With a quieter giggle, I slapped my hand against my mouth, hoping to contain the laughter that I found myself plagued with.

  None of this was funny.

  And yet — that made it harder to stop.

  Had Capaneus been here, in a different world, he would have scolded me for being fanciful, for having my head in the clouds. He had always thought me vapid and dull.

  I’d never told him about my… fantasies. He would have done anything he could have to force such notions out of my head, and I might be simple, but I was wise enough to keep my mouth shut.

  He’d scheduled our union for the fifth of the month. I had pleaded with my father to change it, to convince him to push it even a day forward, but my spouse-to-be was firm in his date, stating that he had business to attend to before and after the day, and that was when we would be wed.

  Looking back now, as I sat near a pool on a cursed island — already overcome with inappropriate laughter — perhaps I should pay tribute to Horkos and thank him for the misfortune that had befallen me over the last several years.

  A marriage to a cruel man.

  The failure to take Thebes.

  The god king himself striking Capaneus down.

  My exile.

  These terrible events, these silly hardships I fought so hard against, and I’d had my sight taken from me.

  I’d say I was due a stroke of good fortune. Perhaps an offering to Tyche would be a better use of my time.

  But for now — no offerings were in my future. I was lucky enough that Medusa saw fit to feed me.

  Day by day, moment by moment.

  I refused to let my late husband’s choices decide my future, my attitude, and my outlook.

  I took a deep breath, relishing the way the salt-soaked air seemed to settle in my bones. I refused to wilt.

  No, this would not be the end. Not if I had a say in it.

  9

  When I rose with the sun, snakes hissing drowsily atop my head, I found myself immediately drawn to the window that faced the pool, looking for my intruder.

  Three days.

  Three days this woman had been on my island.

  Three days longer than any other vagrant had survived.

  With a resigned sigh, I left the temple, padding out to where Evadne sat, unmoving.

  “Good morning, goddess,” the other woman chirped, a smile spreading across her face as I drew closer.

  “Hardly a goddess,” I replied cooly, rolling my eyes. I chided herself for the way my own lips turned upwards — only just — at the woman’s greeting.

  “No?” The woman shifted up on her knees before standing, grabbing her stick from beside the tree she had been sitting near. “Just a beautiful woman who has fed me and kept me safe, then.”

  The teasing cadence of her voice caused a flush to creep up my neck. “You can hardly gauge a woman’s beauty by her voice alone, human.” My voice wasn’t half as cruel as I had intended it to be.

  “Ah, but I think I can.” She was facing me, a smile still plastered across her face. “Since I have you here, goddess, may I ask you a question?”

  “Another?”

  “I’m alone with my thoughts, I have little else to do.”

  “Very well.”

  “Is your island known for its abundance of… sea snakes?”

  I let out a rough laugh before clasping my hand over her mouth, shaking my head. “No, foolish woman.” Taking a couple, cautious steps forward, I circled my hand around Evadne’s wrist. “Part of my curse…”

  Slowly, ever so carefully, I lifted her hand towards my snakes, giving both the serpents time to adjust, and my guest time to pull away.

  She didn’t, and part of me knew she wouldn’t. Once her fingers brushed the scales in my hair, she gasped, pulling her wrist back.

  Shame threatened to creep up the back of my throat. I did my best to swallow it down. It had been years since anyone had…

  To admit I was starved for human touch would be absolutely shameful. But the feel of her fingers in my hair… it was next to divine.

  But the curse did as it always does, frightening and pushing people away.

  Even if they meant me no harm.

  “Your hair is…” Evadne took a small step forward, lifting her hand towards the snakes again. “Oh, my heavens.”

  Another small shiver ran down my spine as the other woman gently caressed one of the snakes, a grin forming on her face. “This is incredible,” she whispered, more to herself than to me.

  Evadne’s hand faltered, dropping slightly.

  My breath caught in my throat as she grazed the skin of my cheek with the back of her hand. Praying she couldn’t feel the heat that was obviously present in my face, I turned away from her touch.

  “Why do you do that?” Her voice was soft, maybe even a little guarded, but she tucked her hand against her chest. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Everyone on this island is put here to hurt me, Evadne.” I spoke without thinking, instantly regretting the words.

  But… I regretted the way she flinched away from me more.

  It was better this way, I knew it deep down. She needed to be afraid of me. Something would snap back into place, some terrible thing would change and she would become stone, like everyone else.

  “Have you always been so afraid?” When she spoke, her words were soft, as gentle as the sea breeze that surrounded us. My snakes perked up at the sound, as if they, too, hung on her every word.

  “I’m not afraid,” my reply was harsher than I intended, but I meant every word of it.

  “A cornered animal is going to bite, eventually, goddess.” When I finally gathered the strength to look at her again, her face had softened into something almost like… understanding.

  “I’m not cornered. This is my island, girl.” My fists clenching at my side, anger bubbling up with nowhere to go. “And I’m certainly not a goddess.”

  I turned to leave, “Try not to bloody up my island anymore, trespasser.”

  And I left her there, standing by the basin, her hand still outstretched to the place I had been standing.

  10

  I dreamed in gold.

  Dreamt of warmed hands pressed to my skin, of voices humming in stone corridors.

  Of sea breezes curling through a ruined temple, and… laughter.

  Hers.

  Echoing through the gods' old bones.

  And there were snakes.

  Not cruel, not cursed.

  Gentle.

  Cool against my cheeks as they twined through my hair like ribbons.

  It was peace that I had found in the memory of dreams.

  Peace that warmed my blood, peace that wasn’t found in sight alone.

  It was all-encompassing.

  But… when I awoke, nothing was the same.

  Heat licked down my chest, mouth tasting of salt and iron. My limbs were too heavy to move, but…

  I had nowhere to go.

  I tried to sit up, failed.

  Something in my chest knocked hard against my ribs.

  “Gorgon?” I called, but my voice was barely a rasp.

  Nothing answered but the wind.

  The temple was too far. The basin stone was too cold. I folded over myself in the dirt, curling my arms around my legs with my cheek pressed to the earth, and shivered.

  Maybe I would never get warm again.

  Maybe I had dreamed the warmth entirely.

  11

  When I found her the next morning, the girl was curled in on herself, laying beneath one of the last standing columns in the yard. Her chest moved quickly, breathing ragged.

  I stilled — Stared.

  Waited for the trick.

  For the trap.

  For some proof of the betrayal that the beautiful, ethereal Evadne had come to offer.

  But the woman groaned, barely moving, lips cracked, face flushed beneath the grime.

  I knelt beside her before I could tell myself not to.

  “Foolish girl,” I hissed under my breath, brushing damp curls from her brow. The heat radiating from her skin was unmistakable. My serpents hissed softly in agitation, disturbed but not hostile.

  Evadne’s head lolled towards my hand like it was instinct. Trusting. As if she knew me. As if she knew I would not let her fall.

  Which was ridiculous.

  Which was… infuriating.

  Which… was true.

  “I warned you,” I muttered, brow furrowing as I scooped an arm beneath her knees. “I told you not to die here.”

  The girl curled into my chest, her fingers clutching at my skin as I adjusted her in my arms. I hated the way something licked at my stomach as she handed her wellbeing over to me with such ease.

  I carried her limp frame with more care than I wanted to admit. Across the broken stones, through the overgrown path, into the dark hollow of the temple’s heart. The air grew cooler the deeper we went. The shadows here grew more patient.

  Grumbling internally, I laid her on the cot in the back of the naos — my cot. The one no one had ever touched but me.

  Evadne stirred once. Murmured something that sounded like “beautiful.” Then fell still again.

  I paced the small room.

  Then sat.

  Then stood again.

  This kind of care didn’t suit me, never had. I did not know what herbs would cool a fever. I didn’t keep linens clean. Despite that, I ran water from the cistern, tore one of my old tunics for cloth, and pressed it to the woman’s neck.

  I didn’t mean to touch her hair.

  But I did.

  Just once.

  Curled one damp strand behind her ear, felt the pulse flutter at her temple.

  Still alive.

  Still breathing.

  I finally settled myself beside her on the bed, arms folded tight over my chest, snakes resting quietly now in my hair.

  Watching her.

  Waiting.

  “I should let you die,” I whispered. “It would be easier.”

  It didn’t matter that I didn't even believe myself.

  And neither, it seemed, did the girl in my bed, who stirred faintly again, and — half asleep — smiled.

  I dozed, back pressed against the wall, legs crossed on the bed. Never touching her, never trying to. Just… resting. Her matted tunic and blanket couldn’t disguise the heat of her fever from me.

  I could still be hospitable. The laws of xenia required me to be kind, that was all. It was the law.

  Snakes hissed as if mocking me. Had I extended kindness and welcome to the statues that littered my beaches? Had I offered my bed to those that came to my shores ill?

  Didn’t matter.

  I pushed it from my mind, into the recesses as I dozed, ignoring the way the quiet rise and fall of the girl’s lungs comforted me, and continued to soothe.

  This means nothing, I told myself. It is practical. Nothing more. It would be stupid to leave this sick girl alone in my bed. Much easier to move a living person than a rotting corpse.

  I grimaced at the thought.

  But then Evadne shifted again. Her hand found my arm. The barest brush of fingertips.

  And gods help me, I nearly flinched out of my own skin.

  I didn’t move.

  Refused to move.

  Didn’t breathe.

  My heart pounded so loud, I was certain the girl would wake and accuse me of something foolish.

  Something dangerous.

  But she didn’t wake.

  Instead, Evadne sighed — a soft, contented sound — and curled closer. Her forehead rested just against my hip now. Her fingers, loose and open, barely grazed the fabric of my tunic, twitching against the hemline.

  With a restrained sigh, I cast my eyes up, staring at the ceiling.

  Willed myself not to feel the weight of that small, unconscious trust.

  I wasn’t meant for this.

  I was not soft. I was not safe. I was not wanted. Not truly.

  Not ever.

  And yet, this woman had touched me like I might be more than her curse. Like I could be more than the monster I was created to be.

  Had smiled at me.

  Had teased me.

  And now, she slept beside me like we’ve done this a hundred times before.

  I hated how much I didn’t hate it.

  How I might even crave it.

  Somewhere in the middle of the night, my eyes fluttered shut, completely unbidden. The tension bled from my limbs by degrees.

  Not gone, just… dormant. The way old magic sometimes waits in sacred places, still breathing beneath the surface.

  And just before sleep claimed me, one of my snakes slithered forward, careful and slow, and curled around Evadne’s wrist.

  Neither of us stirred.

  At first, I didn’t know what woke me.

  I wasn’t even entirely sure that time had even passed, it was just a blink, just a moment.

  But in the air of the temple there was… nothing.

  Not a sound.

  Not a whisper of movement.

  Just a feeling. Like something had shifted.

  Then I felt the weight across my waist.

  A leg. Bent. Hooked casually over my hip.

  An arm. Draped around my stomach like it had always belonged there. A puzzle piece, notched in place.

  And warmth — gods, so much warmth — pressed full against my back, from shoulder to knee.

  Evadne.

  Evadne was holding me.

  Somehow, in the night, the girl had moved with the single-minded certainty of a creature who had never been taught fear.

  She’d nestled against my sleeping frame like we were simply two bodies meant — to fit. Her forehead tucked neatly between my shoulder blades, breath brushing the bare skin of my neck.

  I was not breathing.

  Not really.

  My entire body had gone stiff, every muscle locked tight, like if I so much as twitched, the whole illusion would collapse. The snakes, traitorous and complacent, had gone still against my scalp. A few had even slithered down during the night and now rested contentedly over both of us — curled around Evadne’s wrist, her thigh, one even looped lazily between our joined legs.

 

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