The Gorgon Bride

by Galen Sulak-Ramsey

  A wry grin formed on Athena’s face, one that made Alex shift nervously as he questioned the validity of his conclusion. “I was going to give you the honor of running an errand for me, one that I might have even rewarded you for,” she said. “But first, I think you need to be taught a lesson.”

  Athena snapped her fingers, and the two disappeared.

  Chapter Three

  In the center of an ornate, marble arena, Athena donned her helm and adjusted her grip on her spear. Long ago, she had grown weary of such unimaginative combat, but Ares, who stood a few paces away, insisted on the duel. She had relented not long ago to silence his constant badgering.

  “Are you ready?” she asked, hefting a large, bronze shield from the ground and onto her arm. “Double or nothing, yes?”

  “Double or nothing!” The God of War thumped his bare chest twice and then twirled his spear before planting its butt in the ground. “Now this is sport. This is a test of prowess and strength.”

  “I would’ve thought you’d want a more substantial contest,” Athena said, baiting a proverbial hook with which she planned to tease her brother. “Something more war oriented.”

  “I do not wish to play that game of yours again, where heroes and kings are useless and at the mercy of women.”

  “Fair enough,” Athena replied, adopting a fighting stance with shield and spear. “To be honest, I was relieved that you didn’t suggest it.”

  Ares’ grin shone from beneath his helm. “Your tricks of the mind won’t work on me, dear sister.” He took a half step backward and charged.

  Athena deflected the point of his spear on her shield and turned with her brother’s momentum. She whipped the butt of her spear around, aiming for his head, but failed to land the blow. The two disengaged, and Athena pressed her lips together. A thousand years ago her counterattack would have connected. Either she was getting slower, or he was getting smarter. She wasn’t sure which she’d prefer. “Have we started?” she asked to mask her surprise.

  “Warming up,” Ares replied. He bounced on the balls of his feet a few times. “Tell me, sister, are you disappointed that you missed?”

  “I didn’t want to beat you as easily as I did at our last contest,” she lied.

  Ares grunted. “Had I a real army, you wouldn’t have won. Here you shall find defeat.”

  “One of us will,” she said. She hopped forward and lunged. It was a half-hearted attack, and one she knew would miss, but it was meant to underscore her next point. “In all seriousness, I am glad you suggested the duel.”

  Ares backed several yards, planted his spear into the ground, and raised his helm. “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it. If you win here, there is no shame for me,” she replied. “But if we’d played chess again and you’d won, I’d lose something I could never get back.”

  Puzzlement crossed her brother’s face, and it was precisely the reaction she was looking for. “How so?”

  “Because as of right now, you have never defeated me.”

  Ares didn’t react at first, but once her statement’s implications had had time to sink in, he heaved his spear into the air and threw his helm. “You tricked me into this duel!”

  “I did no such thing,” Athena replied. She was pleased she wouldn’t have to spell it out for him. “I only went along with your suggestion for our next contest.”

  “You wanted to keep the glory to yourself!” he shouted. Cords of muscle bulged in his neck. “You wanted to gloat on your perfect track record for all of eternity!”

  “I suppose I could gloat if I wanted, couldn’t I?” Athena removed her helm and tucked it under her arm. “Funny how it only takes winning the first game to do that.”

  “I don’t find it funny at all.”

  Athena spun the helm around with her hand several times. “Shall we continue this duel now or later?”

  “We will do neither,” he stated. “I demand a rematch. Get the board ready, and this time I play white.”

  “As you wish,” she answered. “But first, I need to go check on Alex.”

  * * *

  Alex found that the mountainside he was on gave him an excellent view of the sea. He had always been fond of watching the waves break against a rocky shore, smelling the salty air, and listening to the birds overhead. And he would have been fond of all of that on this lovely day had he not been lying on his back, chained hand and foot to a stone slab. A slab, he noted, that was stained a dark brown.

  “This doesn’t prove anything other than you’re a psychotic bitch!” he yelled. When his cries were answered only by his echo, he thrashed about once more. “Let me out of here right now or so help me god!”

  “God? Which god did you have in mind? I don’t believe any suffer your plight at the moment.”

  Alex craned his head over his shoulder to see Athena standing a few paces away. “The real God, if there is one, you sick little monkey. We have names for your kind, you know, and it’s not divine. It’s psychopath.”

  Athena walked over, patted Alex on his head, and ruffled his hair. “That’s the problem with you mortals, never understanding your place in the world and never grateful for the gifts you receive.”

  “Don’t mortal me. You’ve still proven nothing,” Alex shot back. He was glad that his backbone hadn’t disappeared. If something bad was going to happen, at least it would happen while he was still on his feet—or as much as circumstances would allow. “And what gift have I been given?” he added. “My imprisonment?”

  Athena tapped him square on his chest. “This.”

  “My sternum?”

  “Your body,” she replied. “Or did you fail to notice that as well? I think I did a pretty good job fixing it up after it was flattened and washed off a whale’s hide.”

  Alex paused. As much as he could tell, he looked exactly how he always had. Tall, reasonably fit, and a scar on his left forearm from where he’d broken it falling out of a tree when he was nine. “Oh yeah, my body,” he said, returning to the conversation. “I have no idea how I missed it before. It must not be very important if it’s been gone all this time.”

  “It’s only important if you want to mostly interact with the world around you,” she said with a smile. “Or have the world mostly interact with you.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Yes, mostly,” she reiterated. “But don’t get too attached to it. It’s a loaner and for demonstrational purposes only.”

  “Right.” Alex rolled his eyes. He was tired of the games. “If you’re some ancient Greek deity, then where have you been the last two thousand years?”

  “On vacation,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Something your culture might call paid time off.”

  “You’re the modern goddess now? Stop toying with me and be done with it.” He had a brief inclination to spit on her, but his imagination on how she might react to the assault kept him in line. It was easier to be brave when the situation wasn’t at its worst.

  Athena knelt so she was eye level with him. “Now Alex,” she said. “I’m a reasonable goddess, more so than any other you’ll meet. I’m not about to butcher you without cause. That would be uncouth. However, I’ll not have you uttering blasphemy, nor will I tolerate you insulting my friends.”

  The tone in her voice made Alex rethink his predicament. He had to admit that there might be a chance she was who she said she was and he hadn’t gone crazy. If that were true, that would be—for lack of a better word—bad. A more rational point replaced that thought. “You can’t scare me into thinking you’re some goddess. Fear does not equate truth.”

  “Scare? No,” she answered. “But we will come to an understanding. As this is your first offense, your sentence will be light. Are you familiar with Prometheus?”

  The name sounded familiar, but Alex could not come up with the details. “I’m afraid not.”

  “No matter,” she said. “You will know his fate soon enough.”


  Alex pulled against the shackles yet again. “What are you going to do to me?”

  Athena held up a hand. When he calmed, she whistled sharply. Off in the distance, an eagle cried out in reply. “You see,” Athena said, coming to her feet. “Prometheus angered my father, and Zeus, being the disciplinarian he is, had Prometheus bound to this very same spot.”

  “And?”

  The goddess motioned skyward. “During the day, an eagle would come and tear out his liver. But at night, his liver would regrow, thus restarting the cycle.”

  Alex looked to the clouds and spied a large bird that sported a wicked beak and dagger-like talons. It looked more real to him than anything he’d ever seen in his entire life, and suddenly, he hadn’t a doubt that this was not a dream whatsoever. “Okay, okay. Just wait,” he pleaded. “You’re a goddess. I apologize for saying you weren’t. So now we’re good.”

  “I think not,” Athena replied. She ran a solitary finger down his chest and poked him in the abdomen. “As you said before, threatening you only makes me a psychotic bitch. Keeping you alive after you’ve been eviscerated and then regenerating your liver, however, makes me divine. And if you’re going to run an errand for me, we’ve got to have our roles clear from the beginning.”

  “This is completely unfair! You’d torture me because I didn’t know who you were?”

  “Torture? Hardly. We can stop by Hades if you want to be tortured,” she said. The eagle landed next to her, and she scratched its head. “Think of this as tough love. Children need to be corrected from time to time. Once this is over, I’m certain we can be friends, in a deity-servant sort of way.”

  The eagle ruffled its dark brown plumage and hopped next to Alex. It lightly pecked once, then twice, at Alex’s torso and drew blood.

  Alex screamed and tugged at the chains. The sinews in his arms and shoulders painfully strained under the demand he set upon them. That pain paled in comparison to the fire in his midsection when the eagle drove its beak into his abdomen.

  Blood poured from the wound and stained both rock and plumage in equal amounts. Alex’s body went into spasms, and still the bird tore at him until his liver fell out. The eagle ruffled its feathers, gobbled it up, and flew away.

  Alex’s body went limp, and his head rolled to the side. To his complete horror, he was still alive and aware of everything.

  Athena stood nearby, apathetic to the entire ordeal. She glanced at the ground as she approached, evidently not wanting to step in any blood or gore. “This is how it’s going to be, Alex,” she said, squatting and resting her chin on folded hands. “Since you still owe me for your petty little insults and outburst from before, you can either repeat today for another thousand years, or you can complete a simple task for me. The choice is yours.”

  Unable to think or speak, Alex shut his eyes, grit his teeth, and tried his best to push the pain away.

  “Think it over,” she said. “Be warned. Tomorrow morning your liver will be as good as new, and Aldora likes to eat an early breakfast.”

  Chapter Four

  Alex woke to the spray of saltwater upon his face. He screamed and tried to jump up, but the shackles held him fast. Immediately, his eyes went to his torso, and he stared in disbelief at the wholeness of his midsection. Slowly, he tore his gaze away and looked about. The eagle, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen. He was, however, still bound to the very same slab of rock, on the very same side of the very same mountain. Only two things had changed in his predicament. First, a night sky loomed above, and second, an aged, hunchback man stood nearby, scowling at him.

  “Alexander Weiss?”

  “Yes,” Alex replied. “And you are?”

  “Phorcys, God of the Sea, though many call me The Old Man,” he replied.

  “Isn’t that Poseidon’s job?” Alex said, remembering a small amount of his Greek Mythology.

  Phorcys’s eyes narrowed, and he made tiny, withered fists. “The deep will always be mine.”

  “Please say I haven’t angered you too,” Alex said as his gut tightened. “I don’t think I can handle two of you after me.”

  “No. You have not,” Phorcys replied. “But I shall no longer weather Athena’s games at the expense of my daughter and my sanity.”

  Alex sighed with relief. “I don’t suppose you could get me out of these chains? My appreciation would know no bounds.”

  Phorcys made a strange gesture in the air. After a brilliant flash of light, he changed into a hideous mix of crab, fish, and man. The Old Man extended a large claw, and with a few quick snaps, he cut Alex free.

  Alex scampered away and knocked his head on a nearby rock. “What the holy hell?” he exclaimed. “You could at least warn someone before doing that.”

  “You startle easily,” Phorcys commented. “Odd for a champion of Athena.”

  “I think any normal person would, hero or not.”

  “Doubtful,” the god replied. The Old Man slithered toward Alex on his elongated fish tail. “For a hero, you are nothing of the likes of Perseus. Strange, isn’t it, that she would pick you to steer the fate of a gorgon?”

  “I’m not doing anything,” Alex said. “I want nothing to do with her.”

  Phorcys expression soured, and he looked at Alex with skepticism. “Perhaps I should let you run off. I see no heroic qualities in you. Your body is weak. Your spirit lacks salt. And from what I hear, you are filled with hubris that borders on blasphemy. What could you possibly do of worth?”

  “If it means getting away from Athena, I can’t do a damn thing,” he said. He had half a mind to bolt right there, but he hadn’t a clue where he was or where he’d go. “All I want to know is how to get out of here so I can put as much distance between me and her as possible.”

  Phorcys drew back a corner of his mouth. “You think you can run from Athena?”

  “I’m sure as hell going to try,” said Alex.

  “Yes, I’m sure you’ll elude her for quite some time.” The Old Man said, shooing Alex off with a claw. “Go. Tempt fate and see if outwitting Athena is a course safe and true.”

  “It has to be safer than staying here,” said Alex, glancing to the slab with a grimace and a shudder. He could still feel Aldora’s beak tear through him and remember the sickly, sweet smell to his innards. “Besides, I’m sure whatever pointless, meaningless errand she keeps alluding to is going to be a thousand times worse.”

  “That pointless, meaningless errand is my daughter.”

  Alex felt the color drain from his face. “Oh. I didn’t mean anything by that. I swear.”

  “For your sake, I should think not.”

  “Maybe I could help,” he said, hoping to smooth things over as quickly as he could since the gods seemed to be touchy on everything. “What seems to be the trouble?”

  Phorcys looked warily at Alex. “My daughter needs a suitor, and only a hero would be up to such a task.”

  “And?”

  “And there is nothing more,” he said. He looked out over the ocean and made a sweeping gesture across its waters. “I can command it to ebb and flow at my whim. I can draw back its waters to expose the Abyss or summon creatures from those very depths to do my bidding. But I cannot control true love. No one can. Not even the gods.”

  “Love is not something you control,” Alex said, sighing wishfully. His body relaxed, and a smile born from a longing heart spread over his face. “It’s a power that draws you in. Shapes you. Controls you. It’s the sweet notes of whispers between a couple, the prestissimo charge of lovers reunited, and everything in between. Your daughter only wants what we all dream of, in one form or another.”

  The Old Man’s face softened, ever so slightly. “Maybe you do know the waters she seeks.”

  “I know them,” Alex said, leaning against a rock and letting himself slip back to days long gone, days when Jessica stole his breath and consumed his every thought with her adorable freckle face. But as much as h
e wanted to indulge himself in thinking about the past, he knew he had to return to the present and deal with the god before him. “For your daughter, would I have to find her someone to marry, or would a date suffice?”

  “A courtship would be acceptable,” The Old Man answered. “Provided the other was serious about pursuing a relationship with Euryale. Woe to he that hurts my daughter.”

  “That’s it?” Alex asked. “He doesn’t need to be anything else? A god? Demigod? Rich? Powerful? Doctor? Warrior? Sea Captain?”

  “No,” Phorcys said. There was hesitation in his voice. “Euryale will tell you who she wants.”

  “Might I ask why she’s having trouble finding someone to begin with?”

  “Mostly it’s a matter of her appearance.” The Old Man admitted. “Some have had, how I shall say this, bad reactions to her…substantial looks.”

  “She’s a big girl?”

  “Man-sized.”

  “No, I meant is she excessively overweight? Not that it matters, but I know some people are self-conscious about such things.”

  “Not at all,” The Old Man answered. “She’s as streamlined as the mako and twice as strong.”

  “But she looks like a shark,” Alex guessed. Maybe it was only her teeth, he hoped. If so, Alex did know a few dentists that could work miracles. But then again, her dad was crab-fish-man. Miracles might not be enough.

  Phorcys shook his head. “Not at all.”

  Alex rubbed his chin as he tried to pick his next words carefully. “But you’re saying she’s not the most beautiful girl in the world?”

  “Before mortals even dreamed of taking to sails, she and her sisters were the envy of many.”

  “Ah, that’s it then,” Alex said with a smile. He was glad that the problem was now identified. “Age isn’t a problem anymore, not in this day. There are plenty of people out there with a cake full of candles that are looking to meet that special someone, wrinkles and all.”

  “She’s immortal,” Phorcys replied. “Her skin has not aged a day since she matured. The problem is with her vipers.”