I curled my hands into claws, digging my nails deep into my stomach. Warm blood welled up around my fingertips, but I ignored it. Pushing past the blood and muscle, I forced my lethal magic deeper, driving the decay directly into the boiling knot of his necromancy.
As I flooded my abdomen with pure rot, I felt the potential for life inside me wither. The sacred space meant for creation was turning to ash and ruin. I was winning.
Deep inside my body, a sickening tear ripped through my core.
The parasite of Jason’s magic finally gave way. It dissolved completely in the flood of my death-touch. The suffocating leash snapped.
Charon immediately pulled his hands away. Phix shifted back to give me space. I curled into a tight, trembling ball and retched violently, gagging on sour bile. My entire body seized with uncontrollable spasms.
The agonizing pain slowly receded, leaving behind a vast, echoing emptiness. The space behind my ribs felt hollowed out. I was permanently barren.
I lay in the dirt, resting my forehead against the crushed asphodels, and wept. Not out of fear, regret, or loss. Out of pure and simple relief.
Slowly, I wiped the spit and tears from my face and pushed myself up. I dragged my shaking body forward, collapsing against Aion’s metal shoulder. The deep, burning ache of my ruined womb throbbed with every beat of my heart, but the oppressive weight of Jason’s ownership was entirely gone. The magic pooling in my veins belonged solely to me.
I was free. I had mastered my own death. Now I needed to pull a soul back from the dark.
11
A Father’s Gift
Jason
I had lost. Impossibly, against all odds, I’d failed in claiming my prize.
Gritting my teeth, I stumbled down the now strikingly silent Asphodelian streets. The echoes of Medea’s power had faded, and every step I took seemed more accusing than the last.
I’d more than outstayed my welcome. That much was clear. My only hope right now was that my daughter would keep the giant occupied for a while longer.
On shaky legs, I made my way to the Stygian Docks. Telamon was gone, his skull crushed by the mindless bronze titan. Hylas, Castor, and Pollux were now nothing more than red smearsstaining the sphinx’s asphodel garden. In a single, devastating moment of hollow fury, the colossus had destroyed them all.
But the rest of my crew would still be waiting. TheArgowould be prepared to take us home. Or so I thought.
The moment I braved the docks, the mists enveloped me whole. Lake Acheron’s distant power crackled over my skin, almost mocking me. “The hero Jason,”a sibilant echo of voices whispered in my mind.“How far you have fallen. You wanted our treasures. Now you’ll pay the price.”
I refused to let it get to me. Just a little further, and I’d be able to leave this accursed place.
As I’d hoped, theArgowaited at the edge of the docks. I scrambled up the heavy wooden gangplank, dragging in ragged gasps of freezing air. And that was when I realized it. Silence blanketed the deck. Usually, the familiar sound of men’s voices and the clatter of bone dice filled this space. Now, nothing remained except the heavy, deliberate lapping of black water against the hull. The ship was entirely devoid of sailors.
No matter. I didn’t need people to make my escape. I had all the power I could ever want in my own veins.
“Wake up.” Pressing my hand flat against the mainmast, I poured a desperate surge of magic directly into the wood. The familiar, cold pulse of the ship’s spirit reacted to my touch. “We are leaving. Now!”
A deep groan echoed from the ship, like heavy bones shifting in a grave. Blighted timber shivered under my palm, desperate to obey. But the dark sails hung entirely limp. The heavy oars stayed firmly locked in their ports.
“I said move!” I slammed my fist against the wood, forcing my fading power deep into the timber. Envisioning theArgocutting cleanly through the thick mist, I willed us to leave this cursed island behind. We needed to return to the Korinos Wilds. I required time to rebuild my forces and find another way to claim the golden pelt.
The ship held perfectly still.
Lake Acheron began to churn. Heavy, ink-black swells rose around the hull, cradling theArgowith terrifying, deliberate gentleness. I leaned over the dark railing and stared down into the roiling depths. Haunting faces formed within the rising bubbles and foam, while thousands of ancient, freezing eyes stared up at me from the deep.
This sentient lake was actively holding the ship hostage against the docks. Not trying to chase me away anymore. Keeping me captive.
“Let go.” I forced the words through gritted teeth, my exhaustion bleeding into the freezing air. “I am the master of theArgo. I command the dead. I have the right to pass.”
The black water only tightened its hold on my vessel.“You have no rights here, mortal."The blighted wood began to splinter and creak in protest under the massive, unnatural pressure.
This time, I didn’t have the power to protect the ship from the lake’s anger. “Gods be damned… There has to be a way to get out.”
