Serpent and Stone

Chapter 20

I could hardly look at Perseus for days after that night. My cheeks flushed every time I glanced toward him and my throat closed up when I remembered the feel of his light touch on my skin.

I would catch myself just staring at him sometimes. When he was weaving at the loom, or when we were watching the sunset from the garden. Even when we were just talking about nonsense or doing nothing at all. I'd suddenly realize I was only looking at his eyes, their soft blue the color of hyacinths. Or the angular lines of his jaw and cheekbones, and the way his lips parted just a little bit when he was confused or uncertain about something. His bronze skin had become darker in the time since he'd arrived on the island due to all the time he spent sitting or strolling under the island sun, turning it the color of dark honey. Sometimes when it was a particularly warm day outside, he would let out an exasperated growl and rake a hand through his copper curls. In those moments, I roughly tore my gaze away from him with a guilt feeling as I felt a pulse of lightning shoot straight through my heart.

I berated myself incessantly for feeling this way. It was illogical and irrational. I was a monster, a horrible creature of death. I shouldn't be capable of feeling this way and yet there was no denying it. More and more, Perseus occupied all of my thoughts. I was helpless to push him out. It was much too late for that.

In sword lessons, Perseus was progressing at a slow but steady pace. He had begun to master his spatial perception, his keen sense of hearing making up for his lost sight. He was still slow and often inaccurate. But he was gradually improving, and we had moved on from tedious exercises to real sparring with wooden staves.

"Left," I called to him, before raising my arms in an arc and bringing them down toward Perseus' left side. With the verbal cue, he was able to raise his own staff in time to block the attack. He pushed mine back and twirled the staff around him, his breathing heavy and sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

"Good," I commented. "Now from above."

We went on like this for several hours, with me calling out an attack and Perseus moving to block it. He blocked my strike every single time, but I hesitated to proceed any further in the training. Despite his progress, I knew he was not prepared for a real fight completely blind. He would not be able to block in time if he didn't have me to help him anticipate the attacks. He still needed my protection.

"Alright," I said at last. "That's enough for today. You're doing well and progressing steadily. Soon we'll move on to real sparring."

He let out a huff of aggravation and leaned on his staff. "But not soon enough." A small crease formed on his forehead as his brows furrowed in frustration.

He held out his hand and held it in the air, waited patiently. It was a familiar gesture by now. I moved forward and clasped his hand in mine, leading him after me as we started to make our way back to the temple.

The forest was tinted gold with the light of the sunset. Through the trees, to the west, I could catch a glimpse the sea sparkling like crystals. A breeze moved through the air, rustling the leaves. It was a freezing wind, harsh and sharp. I shivered, pulling my shawl closer around me.

"It's cold," Perseus commented.

"Yes," I replied. "On nights like these, the wind blows down from the mountains. The peaks are so high that it snows there all year round." The conditions are perfect for keeping a garden of stone victims. There's a deathly beauty to them up there amidst the snow and the cold. "Stalactites of ice line the rocks and boulders, causing everything to gleam in the sunlight. And the view of the island is unlike anything I've ever seen."

Perseus hummed, turning his head in the direction of the mountains and tilting his head upward. I knew he couldn't see a thing, but it looked like he stared straight up to the peak. "It sounds beautiful." His gaze turned away from the mountain, back toward me. "I'd like to climb to the top one day."