The Deep End of the Sea by Heather Lyons Page A

have blessed me so much lately—and say to them, “I take it we’ll be spending much time together.”
    The left corner of Talos’ mouth cracks upwards, but he says nothing in return.
    “Ah! This must be the fearsome Gorgon that’s got Olympus abuzz!” booms a voice from across the gym. I have to peer around Talos, as he makes no effort to move from his position in front of me, to find a small, dark, thin man wearing a ratty baseball cap heading our way. He stops in front of me, arms crossed and yet a finger tapping his chin as if he’s in deep thought. “Not much of a monster, are you? You’re a bit too pretty for it. Open up your mouth, dearie. Let’s see if you’ve got some ugly fangs inside.”
    Talos turns and leaves the room without another word. I watch his departure while Kore says flatly, “Charming as always, Tele.”
    “Am I right on? Too many fangs? Or ... perhaps the cat got your tongue?” he asks me. “Oh, wait. Did Athena take that, too?”
    My head whips back around toward where this Tele is standing. Is he serious? Because, help or no, I’m in no mood to be tormented about my monstrous past.
    Kore smacks his arm, which causes him to burst into surprisingly boyish giggles. She then hisses, “It would be prudent for you to show proper respect, Tele. The lady here is under not one, but three mighty gods’ protections. They would not look kindly upon such disrespect.”
    This is ridiculous. A servant fighting my battles? As he pointed out, I’m the infamous Gorgon. So I look up at him (which doesn’t take much effort from where I’m sitting, as he’s one of the shortest men I’ve ever seen), and say, “The assessment I was given earlier is apparently quite apt. You are an ass.”
    He stops giggling long enough for his eyes to grow nearly twice their normal size. And then he cracks up so hard he actually cries. Drops to the ground, clutches his stomach, and rolls around making the most hideous yet entertaining sounds of hilarity I’ve ever heard.
    Kore sighs and haphazardly kicks at him, which only riles him back up. Hermes was closer to his description of this man-boy than he possibly realized, as he sounds grossly close to an actual ass with his braying. “My lady, this is Telesphoros. Despite his abhorrent behavior, he really is an excellent physical therapist.”
    He springs to his feet, his laughter immediately stopping. “Damn right I am.” Then he smacks my knee before kneading it. His hands are disproportional to his body: fingers long and spindly atop the narrowest palm I’ve ever seen. “So. You’re one of the lucky ones, eh?”
    I shove his weird hand off. “Meaning?”
    He flips his baseball cap so the bill faces backward. “Not a lot of your kind manages to get their curse reversed before they either are put down like the animals they become by do-gooders or go insane and kill themselves in some kind of mad fury.”
    As I tried to off myself countless times, his statement takes me by surprise. Others managed to do what I could not? “You’ve worked with those like me before?”
    His head cocks to the side as he walks in a circle around me. “Not many. Like I said, they’re usually taken care of before they can make it back to Olympus.” He taps the back of my head; Kore is the one to swat him away. “Is this how you were before the curse?”
    A girl, running through the field in a long dress ...
    I’m honest with my answer. “I don’t remember. It’s been a long time.”
    “You don’t remember what you looked like?” I resent the pity that comes with Kore’s words. Pity is the last thing I need right now. I’ve had millennia of pity. What I need right now is strength.
    “Two thousand years will do that to an old broad.” Telesphoros’ grin turns mischievous. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now, anyway. My assignment is the same no matter if you’ve got the same legs you were born with or some strange ones Athena thought might be a swell parting