Keeping my head down, I let the heavy hood of my cloak fall forward. The rough iron cuffs bit into my wrists, chafing my skin. Jason had locked the chain short and twisted it at an awkward angle, sending a dull, constant ache up my forearms. My lead-lined silk gloves felt harsher than ever. But as long as they kept other people safe from me, it was better this way.
“Medea,” Jason murmured as we walked in. “Say nothing. If I hear you speak, you know what it’ll cost you.”
I didn’t dare to say a word, not even in agreement. I only nodded.
After all, the last time I’d spoken in a tavern, he’d pulled off my gloves. The old beggar he’d picked as my target had done nothing wrong. It hadn’t mattered. Not to Jason, nor to my cursed hands.
The Argonauts flanked me, relaxed, as if completely unaware of the creature they guarded. Jason led them like a conquering king, radiating a golden, effortless warmth. As we reached the bar, he threw a heavy arm around the shoulders of the innkeeper.
“By the gods, Silenus! You look like you’ve been eating better than the local lords.” His rich baritone cut through the low hum of the room. He flashed a grin—white teeth, bright eyes, the practiced charm of a man who could sell a drowning man a cup of water.
The man, a bulbous satyr with a single, milky eye, let out a low chuckle. His belly pressed heavily against his stained leather apron. “And you, Jason, you look better than ever. What brings a hero of your stature to the edge of the marshes?”
“Just business, this time. An escort.”
The innkeeper’s remaining eye fixed on me for the first time. “For the lady… Heading to one of the bride markets, is she?”
One of the bride markets. If only. Bride markets were for women who had the luxury of touch, the hope of something better, the smallest chance at freedom. I’d been sold before I was born. But no one here knew that.
“She is.” Jason’s smile widened slightly, performing concern, performing normalcy. “We’re keeping her safe while she travels. Can’t be helped, in this day and age.”
“True, true.” The innkeeper nodded as if Jason had said something very wise. “She’s a lucky girl, then. I hope she finds a gentle match. The markets can be…” He trailed off, searching for the word.
“Unpredictable,” Jason finished. “Yes. But not to worry. She knows how to make the right choice for herself.”
As they spoke, the innkeeper led us to a long, scarred wooden table in the corner. I sat where I was told. I always sat where I was told. The Argonauts—Peleus, Telamon, and the others—piled in around us. Their bronze armor clattered, smelling of old sweat and oiled leather. Beneath it all, I sensed the unique, pungent scent of the necromancy Jason used to keep them unnaturally strong.
Silenus retreated toward the back of the inn, and in his place, a servant girl approached. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen, and her cheeks were already flushed pink. Her eyes stayed wide, locked entirely on Jason. He leaned back, his chair creaking under his weight, his smile broad and inviting. She sawonly the legend. She was entirely blind to the monster hiding underneath the facade.
“For you, my lord.” She placed a platter of roasted lamb and a flagon of dark, heavy wine in front of him. She turned to me, offering a smaller plate of bread and cheese.
Jason caught her wrist. His fingers brushed her skin, and she gasped, her face turning a deeper shade of crimson. “Oh, no. The little bird is far too nervous to eat today. She’s overwhelmed by the journey, aren’t you, Medea?”
He patted my shoulder. The physical weight of his hand sent a cold, sickening pull deep into my marrow. It was the magical binding in my blood humming in recognition of its master. My twisted wrists throbbed against the iron. I said nothing, just like I’d been instructed.
Jason released the girl, his voice a low, melodic purr that made her sway toward him. “In any case, a girl as lovely as you shouldn’t be working in a place like this. You have the eyes of a queen.”
The Argonauts erupted in ribald laughter, their eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
“Careful, girl,” Peleus barked. “Our captain has a silver tongue, but his mind is on the prize. Don’t go thinking you’ll be a hero’s wife.”
Jason chuckled with them, the sound warm and infectious. It was the laugh of a man who loved the world and everyone in it. It was the most convincing lie I had ever known.
The servant girl fled the table, her face still aflame. Jason took a long, slow drink of wine, his eyes scanning the room. The charm evaporated, leaving behind a cold, utterly lethal reality. “We have work to do. Remember, we move fast. No mistakes.”
The table went silent. Telamon leaned in a little closer. “Captain, theArgois a strong ship. But can we really—?”
“I do not recall asking for your counsel, Telamon,” Jason murmured. “And I certainly do not recall giving you permission to question the journey.”
Telamon blanched, his face losing all color. “I only meant the danger—”
“If I hear you question the plan again,” Jason interrupted, his gaze boring into the man, “I will peel off Medea’s gloves and let her hold your hand. I’ll let her rot you from the inside out while you are still breathing.”
The Argonauts fell silent. They were men who had faced monsters without flinching, but they all looked away. They knew the threat was real. They knew what I was. I was the plague he’d created with his own two hands, the darkness he held in reserve for when his smile failed.
I closed my eyes, the weight of my own wretched destiny pressing down on me. I wished he’d let me end my own existence. It would be so much easier. For everyone.
Across the room, a mixed group hunched over their table. Two satyrs with chipped horns, a dryad whose skin had the bark-like texture of old oak, a naiad with kelp woven through her hair. Their cups were already half-empty. Their conversation carried.
