Dionysus roared and turned, leaping toward his next victim, biting into his arm before tossing him off the ship. Two pirates raced forward with knives. Dionysus leapt on one while the other drove his blade into his side. The pain was sharp but more annoying than anything. He turned and tore into the man before throwing him across the ship, his body hitting the mast and sliding to the deck.
It was then Dionysus noticed that Medusa was gone.
“Fuck,” he said as he returned to his human form.
“She went overboard.”
Dionysus turned to see Leo, who had crouched behind a group of wooden boxes.
“You are certain?” he asked. His first thought was that one of the pirates had taken her below deck.
The mortal nodded.
Gods-fucking-dammit. Why didn’t anyone ever listen to him?
Dionysus took a step toward him. He expected him to cower, but he didn’t.
“You are smart, Leo,” he said, and then he raced to the side of the ship.
Though the rain had ceased, everything was still dark, and the sea raged. The only time Dionysus could see was when lightning flashed in the sky. That was when he saw Medusa in the water. She was struggling to stay above water, but she was also surrounded by dolphins—the pirates.
“Fuckers,” Dionysus muttered.
He jumped from the ship and shifted into the form of a shark as he made for the dolphins, biting down on one of their fins. They scattered quickly, but then he felt a sharp blow to his face. Medusa had punched him.
He shifted into his true form again as he surfaced, sputtering.
“It’s me, for fuck’s sake! I am trying to help you!” It was hard to hear over the noise of the storm.
“How can I trust you?” she asked.
It was the first time she had spoken, and her voice was just as beautiful as her ethereal face. It had a sensual, silky quality to it—like that of a siren.
“I don’t expect you to,” Dionysus said. “But if I leave you out here alone, you will find yourself back in Poseidon’s hands.”
At the mention of the god, her face changed, and fear flooded her strange eyes.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Land,” said Dionysus. “And after that, we’ll figure something out.”
She was quiet, studying him—like they weren’t floating in the middle of the Aegean Sea.
“Fine,” she said.
“Yeah?” Dionysus asked. “You won’t punch me again if I turn into a shark?”
“I think that’s up to you,” she said. “Don’t do anything that will make me want to punch you.”
“Let’s hope swimming doesn’t set you off,” he said as he transformed again.
Medusa held on to him as he swam.
As it turned out, the pirates weren’t wrong about how close they were to land. If Dionysus had not begun his attack when he did, they would have likely crashed within the hour. As he and Medusa made their way onto the sandy shore, he only wished he knew exactly where that was.
Dionysus squeezed the water from his braids.
“How did you know about Poseidon?” Medusa asked.
“He told me,” Dionysus said.
Medusa’s eyes widened, and she took a step back, immediately defensive. Dionysus realized that his comment made it seem like he was Poseidon’s buddy.
“Not in a friend way!” Dionysus said quickly. “He told me in an enemy way!”
Medusa’s brows lowered. “But you talk to Poseidon?”
“Because I was looking for you!”
“Why were you looking for me?”
“There is a bounty on your head.”
She took another step back, her fist tightening.
“But that isn’t why I’m looking for you,” Dionysus said quickly. “You’re not worth anything to me.”
Medusa’s fists faltered.
“That is to say I’m not interested in the money,” he said. “I’m interested in your safety.”
“You are really bad at this,” said Medusa.
“Really fucking bad,” said Dionysus. “I’m a little nervous you are going to punch me again.”
“It isn’t like it hurts,” she said. “Aren’t you a god?”
“Yeah, but I still don’t like to be punched.”
There was silence for a moment. “If you are a god, then promises are binding, right?”
Dionysus narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “Yes.”
“Then can you promise me all you intend is to keep me safe?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation.
She seemed to relax a little. “And if I wish to leave, will you promise to let me?”
“No,” said Dionysus.
What little headway they had made was gone.
“What about ‘you aren’t safe and there is a bounty on your head’ don’t you understand?”
“I understand it all perfectly well,” she said. “I have lived it. I have also been held against my will. The freedom to come and go as I please is important to me.”
Dionysus swallowed hard. “Fine,” he said. “But will you promise me something?”
She stared.
“I won’t stop you if you want to leave,” he said. “I promise. Just…tell me when you do.”
She was quiet for a moment, and finally, she nodded. She didn’t speak the words, but he imagined that after being betrayed so often, promising anything was more trust than she could offer, and he didn’t blame her.
“Now that that’s out of the way,” he said, gazing into the darkness. It was nearly impossible to see, but Dionysus thought he could make out a line of trees. “Let’s build a fire or something. I hate being wet.”
“You’re not going to teleport?”
“Can’t,” he said. Picking a spot in the middle of the beach, he dug a small hole where he grew a few vines, letting them wither into nothing but dried remains.
“What do you mean you can’t teleport?” Medusa asked.
“For someone who didn’t want my help, you sure sound judgmental,” he said, sparking a fire with a shock of energy that came from the palm of his hand.
“I didn’t say I didn’t want your help. I wanted you to promise me you meant it,” she said.
Dionysus sighed. “I can’t teleport because I have tried,” he said and sat. “Which must mean we are still in Poseidon’s territory. As much as I hate that, the only thing we can do now is wait for daylight.”
Dionysus sat with his legs crossed, staring into the fire. It took Medusa a few seconds, but she finally sat opposite him.
“So who are you?” Medusa asked.
He glanced at her but returned his gaze to the fire. “My name is Dionysus,” he said.
“Dionysus,” she repeated.
“I’m sure you would have preferred an Olympian rescuer,” he said. “Unfortunately, they are all busy trying to kill a sociopath.”
“I didn’t say that,” she said. “I just asked your name.”
“Oh,” he said and then fell quiet.
“How much do you know about me?” she asked.
“Enough,” he said. “I have been looking for you for a while.”
“Why?”
“When I first heard about you, the rumor was you could turn men to stone with a single glance,” he paused. Now that he had seen her, he understood where that rumor had come from. The thought made him uncomfortable.
“So you wanted me for this power you think I have?”
“Initially,” he said. “But then everyone found out about you, and suddenly, you were in danger. I couldn’t just…let you fall into the wrong hands.”
“Because of my power, you mean.”
Dionysus studied her. “I know you are resentful,” he said. “But without the rumor of your power, I wouldn’t have known about you, and I wouldn’t be here now trying to save you.”
She said nothing.
“Anyway, I had hoped to have you join my maenads.”
“Maenads?”
“They’re…mostly my friends,” he said. “They’re women who have fled from bad situations and need protection or a chance to start again.”
“That almost sounds too good to be true,” she said.
“They are,” he said, and then he shook his head. “I’m not sure where I’d be without them.”
Especially Naia and Lilaia, who had been with him the longest. They had shown him what it meant to be cared for. They had fed him and clothed him, but they had also listened and encouraged him. When he thought he was going to be taken under by madness, they were there to pull him out again. They had seen each other at their worst, which had only encouraged their best.
“I’m not sure how I got here,” said Medusa.
“You mean on this island?”
“Here, at this point in my life,” she explained. “I wanted to be a priestess.”
“For which god?”
“Athena,” she said. “I was studying at her temple in New Athens until I was taken.”
“Taken?”
“I was walking home at night after leaving the temple when I was shoved into a car and bound. They took me to a hotel.” She paused, her chest rising and falling fast.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Dionysus said.
It took her a moment to speak again.
“I thought…for some reason, I thought because I was a priestess, someone might find me. I prayed to Athena. I begged her. She never came.”
“I’m sorry,” Dionysus said.
She shrugged. “It was a hard lesson to learn, that nothing comes from devotion.”
He hoped in time, she would learn otherwise, but he didn’t say that aloud because he knew those words were useless here.
“Sleep,” he said instead. “I will keep watch over you.”
Dionysus woke when he inhaled sand.
Choking, he sat up and began to cough. His eyes watered, and his chest and throat burned. When he was mostly recovered, he looked across the dying fire at Medusa.
“You are lucky I can’t sleep,” she said.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she stood, brushing the sand from her clothes. “We’re in Mycenae, by the way. Not Poseidon’s territory.”
“What?” he asked, confused.
“We’re in Mycenae,” she repeated.
“We can’t be,” he said. “I should be able to teleport.”
“Well, he says otherwise.” Medusa pointed to a man who was a few feet down the shore, pushing a cart of random goods.
Dionysus ran after him. “Sir! Sir!”
The man paused and turned to face Dionysus. He had wild hair and a large, wiry beard. “Ah, yes, sir! Can I interest you in a hat? Or a Mycenaean shell necklace? Made from the finest shells!”
“Mycenae?” Dionysus repeated, but even the hat was embroidered with the words Mycenaean Greek.
Dionysus tried to teleport to New Athens again, but nothing happened. Something was wrong. He should be able to teleport if this was New Greece.
“Do you want the hat or not?” the man asked, frustrated.
“Is there something happening in New Athens?” Dionysus asked.
“That depends,” said the man. “How much money do you have?”
Dionysus summoned his thyrsus and pointed it at the man’s neck. He dropped the hat and necklace as he put up his hands.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble. I’m just trying to sell my shells.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Dionysus said. “You tell me what’s going on in New Athens, and you get to continue selling your shells.”
“There’s not much information coming out that way,” said the man. “They’re saying there was a huge earthquake, and the entire city just broke off into the ocean. At first, we all thought it was Poseidon, but now they’re saying his son is responsible.”
“Theseus?” Dionysus asked.
“Yeah! That’s the one. Personally, haven’t heard much about him, but if he can take over a whole city…fuck…he must be powerful.”
Fuck indeed.
And if it was true, it meant the gods had failed to kill him during the funeral games.
“Thank you,” said Dionysus. He pulled his thyrsus away and then bent to pick up the hat, shoving a handful of coins at the man’s chest before turning to Medusa.
“Hey! You sure you don’t want something else from the cart?” the man called.
Dionysus ignored him.
“Nice pinecone,” Medusa said as he approached.
“Close your eyes,” he said before releasing his magic in one sweeping blast. He teleported them to the border of Attica.
When they arrived, Medusa doubled over and vomited, but Dionysus was too distracted by the scene in front of him to ask if she was all right, because floating miles away from the jagged coastline was New Athens.
CHAPTER XXXIV
HADES
A strange, strained quiet settled between the gods, heavy with shock. It was a quiet Hades knew well, one he had often been responsible for but had rarely felt until Persephone. It was almost like she had taught him how to grieve—first for his mother and now for Apollo, who had come to mean more to him because of how much he meant to Persephone.
“We should prepare funeral rites,” Hecate said.
Hades knew why she suggested it. The sooner she began, the faster Apollo would make it across the Styx, the sooner everyone would see him again.
Artemis’s gaze snapped to Hecate’s, her words slipping between clenched teeth. “If you touch him, I will kill you.”
“There has been too much death already,” said Hecate. “Do not threaten more.”
The goddess dissolved into tears. It was strange to see her like this and harder to watch. When Artemis wasn’t stoic, she was vengeful. There was no in-between—except for now.
“Please,” she begged. “Do not take him away.”
Hades stepped forward and knelt, his face level with hers.
“Without rites, he cannot rest,” he said. “Let Hecate honor him so that you can meet him at the Styx.”
“You will let me see him?” she asked.
“I swear it,” he said.
She took a few more quivery breaths, looking down at Apollo’s charred body. Hades did not know how she did it—how she held him so tightly when he looked nothing like he did in life.
“I’ll see you soon,” she told Apollo and bent to kiss his forehead.
When she released him, Hecate took him away.
“I don’t understand,” said Hermes. He sat at the bottom of the staircase, staring at nothing, his gaze unseeing. It was how everyone looked—completely lost. “I thought Theseus was vulnerable.”
“Dionysus said he was slow to heal,” said Hades.
“But even gods can be wounded,” said Persephone. “Theseus’s skin was like…steel.”
“Then he has become invincible,” said Hades.
“But…how?” Persephone asked.