The Gorgon Bride

by Galen Sulak-Ramsey

  “Oh no,” said Alex, letting his enthusiasm for the land show. “Not this place again.”

  Apollo pulled the reins, and the horses drove the chariot up into the air. “Don’t be so glum. There are only two things to remember while you travel the Underworld.”

  “What would those be?”

  “First, don’t insult any deity you find roaming around,” he said. “And second, don’t eat anything, even from Hades.”

  “What if he offers?” asked Alex.

  “Especially if he offers.”

  “Why is that?” he asked, brow wrinkling. It seemed to Alex that not taking offered food would be insulting and therefore bad.

  “Any mortal that swallows even the tiniest of crumbs is bound by the Fates to stay here forever. And Hades, despite ruling the dead, is ever lonely, always wanting more company.”

  “Note to self then: no food, and no pissing him off. How hard can that be?”

  * * *

  Aphrodite strode into the abode of Pallas Athena unannounced and uncaring that she was. After marching through the front doors, she crossed the inner courtyard without as much as a glance here or there and headed straight for Athena’s great room, for she knew the Goddess of Wisdom would be there, reading, studying, or doing something “smart” like she always did.

  “Sister,” Aphrodite said, halting a pace inside the study. She paused to take in the décor. She had hoped Athena would have changed how she lived by now. After all, it had been what, two or three eons since the two talked about such things? But to Aphrodite’s dismay, Athena had not hung up one tapestry on any of the bare walls, nor replaced any of the bookshelves with things of beauty, like sculptures, full-body mirrors, or display cases (to show off the better gifts from adoring, would-be suitors, of course). All she saw were books, books, and more books, along with the occasional oil lamp.

  “Yes?” Athena replied, snapping Aphrodite’s attention back to their encounter. Surprisingly, however, Athena was not reading a book. She stood over a table filled with parchments and a small model of a temple, complete with miniature walls and statues. “Is there something you wanted?”

  “Only to offer you my congratulations,” Aphrodite replied. “You must be proud that your one and only attempt at love turned out so well.”

  Athena smiled warily and never let her grey eyes leave her sister. “I am.”

  “I admit I’m jealous at such a record,” Aphrodite said, but her face did not reflect those words for an impish grin followed.

  “Let’s drop the charade, shall we?” Athena said. “Tell me what you’re up to.”

  “I suppose I should know better than to try and push something past you,” she said. She stopped when she noticed what Athena was working on. It was not some random temple project. It was a temple to Aphrodite herself.

  “You were saying?” Athena prompted.

  Aphrodite growled. “I was saying, that despite you trying to usurp my domain and evict me from my own temples, I’m not mad. I had a thought that put everything in perspective...”

  Athena rolled her eyes at her sister’s intentional trailing off and continued to scribble notes. Such dramatics were unnecessary and wasted as far as she was concerned, but still, she knew she’d have to play along if she were to be rid of her sister. “And that thought was?”

  “You haven’t succeeded,” she said smugly. “You see, my dear, the love I’ve created for countless men and women has been tested and strained. My love weathers time, whereas yours is a shadow at best. A simple illusion.”

  Athena dropped the pen she held and straightened. “You think Alex hasn’t been through enough?”

  Aphrodite shrugged. “Have the gods not placed a hedge about his marriage? Does he not mingle with Olympians and travel the Underworld freely?” she asked. “His father-in-law alone will see to it that neither he nor Euryale will face a single danger, yet mortals on Earth face them daily.”

  “What, then, do you propose?”

  Aphrodite seemed to grow, both in presence and height, as she continued. “I propose a true test of their marriage. Stand back whilst I strike him,” she said. “He will either persevere and prove his love for Euryale, or he will abandon his vows, and leave her to ruin. But you cannot claim victory in my realm until you’ve tried him and tried him well.”

  “Do you plan on trying to break him today?”

  Aphrodite shook her head, and she appeared as sweet, innocent, and sensual as ever before. “I thought we could at least give him and his bride one night of bliss together.”

  “Then you plan to do this at the games,” Athena finished.

  Aphrodite nodded. “I do, and I want this contest bound by oaths. It’s only fair.”

  Athena remained silent, and to Aphrodite’s delight, she grew neither angry nor combative at her request. “Very well,” Athena replied. “Let’s see who can make the better match. I swear by the River Styx, everything he has is yours, and I will not interfere as long as you swear by the same not to lay a finger against his life or liberty.”

  “With a body made by Hades, his life is hardly in jeopardy,” Aphrodite replied. She then placed a hand against her chest. “But to your demand, with you and the Fates as my witnesses, I so swear by the River Styx, I shall neither destroy his body nor his freedom while he’s put to the test.”

  * * *

  Alex drummed his fingers on a massive table of gold inlaid with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires, and tried to appreciate his surroundings. It wasn’t easy. The few lit braziers barely illuminated their bases, let alone the dining hall. Thick, ankle-high fog carpeted a mosaic floor, and shadows smothered the cracked and worn frescos on the wall. But at least his company was nice. The queen of the Underworld, Persephone, sat a few chairs down and had thus far been a gracious and warm hostess.

  “Hades will be here shortly,” she said. A royal gown, white and flawless, clung to her slim figure and seemed utterly impervious to any stain or smudge it might encounter in such a dark world. As she waited, she occasionally brushed aside a curly lock or two that escaped her ponytail or toyed with the silver tray in front of her. “Though,” she added, taking a pomegranate seed from the tray and popping it into her mouth, “he may be here already.”

  Alex twisted in his high-back chair, but saw only Apollo who sat nearby. “Am I missing something?”

  “Nobody misses me,” said a voice. “That’s for certain.”

  Alex turned back around and found a man, nay, a god, he corrected, sitting at the head of the table and placing a helm and bird-tipped scepter at his side. “Hades?” Alex asked.

  “That’s me,” he said. The God of the Underworld leaned forward with his elbows on the table and rested his cheek on folded hands. His gaze was not at Alex, but Persephone, and the look in his eyes was not a joyous one. Grief, was it? Alex wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was the anticipation of something painful.

  “Well, good morning,” Alex offered in an uncomfortable moment of silence.

  “Good morning, Alex,” Hades replied. “If it is a good morning, which I doubt it is.”

  “Is something the matter?” Alex asked more out of politeness than anything else. He wanted to get home as quickly as he could, as this place continually raised his anxiety.

  “Winter has come, and spring will soon arrive,” Hades said. “We can’t all be excited for that.”

  “How so?”

  “You don’t need to feign interest in me,” said Hades. His voice drifted off, and the god took the tray from Persephone and helped himself to some of the pomegranate. “But if you want to carry on with your pretense, have a bite to eat.”

  With a flick of the wrist, Hades sent the tray sliding over to Alex, who in turn was very impressed with the fact that both the tray reached him from so far away, and all the seeds remained on it.

  “Thank you, but I’ve already eaten,” Alex declined as politely as he could. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Apollo
shifting in his seat, perhaps to object on Alex’s behalf, but the God of Sun and Prophecy did not.

  Hades nodded slowly, and what little life was in his face fell to gloom. “I don’t blame you,” he said. “I suppose you’ll be wanting your new body now. Though I can’t say I’ll make a good one. Or even if I want to. It’s hard to make something nice when your efforts go unappreciated.”

  Sorrow filled Alex’s heart. Sorrow and pity. Hades’ lament struck a chord in him, unnatural and divinely inspired, perhaps, but all Alex could think of was how an eternity spent under rock and clad in shadow would drain the merriness out of anyone, gods included. “It’s not that, really,” Alex said, hoping he might smooth over the rejection of hospitality. “It’s not you. It’s me. I just—”

  “That’s what they all say,” Hades said, cutting him off and waving his hand. “People don’t want to spend time with me, I know. You want to get back to your wife. I envy you for that, Alex, to know she’ll be at your side day in and day out.”

  “I do want to see her soon,” Alex admitted. “But it’s not like that.”

  Hades expression didn’t change in the least, and Alex, feeling horrible about being the source of Hades current depression, decided to make an offer. “If I try one seed, would that be enough to show I mean no offense?”

  Hades sat up in his chair, a hint of life now showing in his face. “It would be a start,” he said as he took up his scepter and helm. “And I might even put an extra effort into your wedding present if you did.”

  “Then so be it,” said Alex, grabbing a seed and popping it in his mouth. He chewed slowly, deliberately, and a few seconds later, Alex swallowed, smiled, and wiped his mouth. “Not bad,” he said. “For a seed.”

  Hades stood, pushed his chair under the table and motioned for Alex to follow him. “Come, Alex,” he said. “Let us build you a body even Heracles would envy.”

  Apollo groaned, and Persephone covered her mouth with her hands. Alex was certain she was about to say something, as he could have sworn he caught the tiniest of noises escaping from her lips. A caution, he’d guess, if he had to wager, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore at least.

  * * *

  “Prometheus shaped your kind from mud,” Hades bellowed as he stood upon a rocky precipice. Lava flowed underneath, bathing both the god and the cavern in a deep red and giving the scene an ominous tone. “But you, Alex, you who marry into the gods, will be shaped in a proper fashion. A fashion, I might add, that won’t leave you petrified by your wife’s infamous gaze.”

  “Thank you,” Alex said, taking a few steps back. Heat rolled toward him in waves, and he wondered how much more of it he could stand before he roasted. More concerning to him, however, was the sudden change in Hades’ attitude. The god’s depressive state was no more, and instead of the slow movements and apathetic conversations of the past, Hades worked and spoke swiftly with purpose and power. “I take it you enjoy this part?” asked Alex, hoping something sinister wasn’t in store for him.

  “It keeps me from having to think about my wife’s soon departure from my realm. How I long to be with her for all of eternity, but we can’t all have what we want,” Hades replied. As he spoke, the cave dimmed and the air cooled. His shoulders fell, and his scepter, now outstretched over the lava flows, dipped. But all of this was only temporary. A second later, his head snapped back, and he raised his scepter high. “With this scepter I can raise the dead, shape the earth, and snatch immortality away from anyone short of a god,” Hades said proudly. “With it, I shall form your bones from iron, and bronze shall cover your skin. Any injury you suffer shall be healed by dawn of the next day and death shall never come for you.”

  Out of the lava floated an amorphous, glowing mass. Up it went until it hovered an arm’s length from Hades. It stretched and bent in five different directions, and all the while Hades waved his scepter to and fro. Alex watched in amazement as the form took a human shape. Its features turned masculine, a strong jaw set into a chiseled face, one that looked much like his own when he was alive, save without any imperfection or hint of weakness. Its shoulders were wide, something one might set the world upon. Its back rippled with muscles, its chest the same. Its arms bulged, and its hands looked as if they could turn coal into diamonds without trouble. A washboard stomach and powerful legs complemented the upper torso, each something Olympic athletes could only dream of attaining.

  Hades lowered his hands, and the body gently floated to the ground on its back between him and Alex. The white-hot skin cooled, and Hades blew sharply upon it. Instantly, the metallic look disappeared. Flesh, dark and toned, took the place where bronze once was, hair sprouted, and the chest slowly began to rise and fall.

  “Lie inside and take your gift,” Hades said. With his work now done, the enthusiasm in both his face and voice fell away. “And do try and remember all I’ve done for you,” he added as he walked away. “Not that you really care.”

  Once Hades was gone, Alex looked at Apollo for direction. “So how do I use this?”

  “You only need to lie down inside,” Apollo said. “The rest will happen on its own.”

  Alex straddled his new body and sat in its abdomen. A tingle ran up his spine, one that intensified as he stretched out his legs, shut his eyes, and eased back.

  He felt as if he were sinking into a bed filled with blankets fresh from the dryer. Alex enjoyed the sensation for as long as he could, but it soon faded away, and all he could feel was the hard rock beneath his skin and hot air hanging over his face.

  “Is there anything you want me to tell your wife when I see her?” Apollo asked.

  Alex opened his eyes and noted that the god stood over him with an offered hand. “No,” Alex said, gladly taking the help to his feet and admiring his new body. “I think I can tell her everything myself.”

  “You want me to bring her here then,” Apollo replied. “I suppose you should be the one to tell her how and why you confined yourself to an eternity in Hades despite my warnings.”

  “I don’t really think that’ll be an issue,” Alex said with a grin.

  Apollo, apparently, didn’t share Alex’s optimism, for his face looked grim, an unsettling characteristic for such a light-hearted being. “You think you’re special?” he asked. “Even Persephone, daughter of Zeus and Demeter is confined to this place during the winter, and her place in the Universe is far greater than yours will ever be. No Olympian will argue your case on your behalf, and even if they did, you would fare no better than she.”

  Alex, still beaming, held out an open hand. In the center, covered in saliva but not chewed in the least, was a single pomegranate seed. “I suppose it’s a good thing no one will have to.”

  Apollo laughed heartily, rays of golden light bursting from his face. “Alex, good man,” he said, wiping away a tear. “I should never have doubted you or my own foresight for that matter. Come, let us see to your bride and leave before Hades learns of your deception. I fear he would not take it kindly.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alex, standing in the middle of Euryale’s island cave, held his bride in his arms, completely enamored. With the stars covered by clouds and the fire pit burning low, there was little else to see in the cave other than Euryale, but he didn’t care. He loved watching the firelight dance on her red chiton and trace every curve the silk made as it clung to her body. Shadows played on the hood she wore, and the sparkle from her eyes pierced the veil that covered her face.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, pushing the veil aside and letting the hood slip back.

  Euryale blushed and rested her head on his shoulder. Her serpents wrapped around his neck while the pair of red ones tasted his cheeks. “I’m glad you think so,” she said. She looked up slowly. “Alex,” she said. “Will you always love me?”

  The question caught him off guard, and he reflexively pulled back an inch or two. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Will you?” sh
e repeated.

  “Always,” he said. “I promise.”

  Euryale smiled and snuggled back into his shoulder. “I only ask, Alex, because I fear I may have bullied you into this. I was impatient that day, and I knew what Athena had threatened you with. It would be tempting to marry me simply to avoid Aldora’s beak.”

  “I know, but that’s not why I did,” Alex said. A sliver of doubt ran through his heart, but he pushed such thoughts away before they could gain strength. There was no need to trouble her with such things, anyway. “I admit this went faster than I’d anticipated, but waking up at your side was a thousand times better than waking alone.”

  Euryale’s hands drifted down and she gripped his forearms as she stepped back. “Who was the girl with you at the feast?”

  “You know about her?”

  Euryale’s eyes darkened. Her nails felt unnaturally sharp against his skin. “Who was she?”

  “Jessica.”

  The gorgon’s grip tightened, her teeth lengthened, and a faint hissing came from her head. “Your Jessica. Your love.”

  “Former,” Alex corrected. “Nothing happened. I swear.”

  Euryale laughed. “Do you always toss around oaths so lightly?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Am I frightening you?” There was an ancient power to her voice, one that could cause dragons to heel or hurricanes to silence.

  “Concerned,” Alex said. He tried to pull away, but her grip intensified and her eyes mirrored the burning coals in the fire pit.

  “Tell me why you’ve brought this woman back into your life.”

  “I didn’t!”

  “Tell me!” She bellowed.

  Alex staggered. The flutter in his heart worried him, but that was nothing compared to the fear he felt when he saw the foliage nearby wither. “Stop it,” he said. “Why are you being like this?”