I heard no sound. Around me stretched the blind expanse of salt. Then the darkness parted, and he came. Huge he was, white and gray, burned onto the depths like an afterimage of the sun. His silent wings rippled, rills of current flowing off their tips. His eyes were thin and slitted like a cat’s, his mouth a bloodless slash. I stared. When I had stepped into the water, I had told myself that this would be only another Minotaur to wrestle, another Olympian I might outwit. But now, with his ghastly immensity before me, I quailed. This creature was older than all the lands of the world, old as the first drop of salt. Even my father would be like a child before him. You could no more stand against such a thing than stem the sea. Cold terror sluiced through me. My whole life I had feared a great horror was coming for me. I did not have to wait anymore. It was here.
For what purpose do you challenge me?
All the great gods have the power to speak in thoughts, but hearing that creature in my mind turned my belly to water.
“I come to win your poison tail.”
And why would you desire such strength?
“Athena, daughter of Zeus, seeks my son’s life. My power cannot protect him, but yours can.”
His unblinking eyes rested on mine. I know who you are, daughter of the sun. All that the sea touches comes to me at last in the depths. I have tasted you. I have tasted all your family. Your brother came once also seeking my power. He went away empty-handed, like all the rest. I am not such a one as you may fight.
The despair rolled through me, for I knew he spoke truth. All the monsters of the depths were covered in scars from battles with their brother leviathans. Not him. He was smooth all over, for none dared to cross his ancient power. Even Aeëtes had recognized his limit.
“Still,” I said, “I must try. For my son.”
It is impossible.
The words were flat as the rest of him. Moment by moment, I could feel my will leaching from me, bled away by the relentless chill of those waves and his unblinking gaze. I forced myself to speak.
“I cannot accept that,” I said. “My son must live.”
There is no must to the life of a mortal, except death.
“If I cannot challenge you, perhaps I can give you something in exchange. Some gift. Perform a task.”
The slit of his mouth opened in silent laughter. What could you have that I want?
Nothing, I knew it. He regarded me with his pale cat eyes.
My law is as it has ever been. If you would take my tail you must first submit to its poison. That is the price. Eternal pain in exchange for a few more mortal years for your son. Is it worth the cost?
I thought of childbirth, which had nearly ended me. I thought of it going on and on with no cure, no salve, no relief.
“You offered the same to my brother?”
The offer stands for all. He refused. They always do.
It gave me a sort of strength to know it. “What other conditions?”
When you have no more need of its power, cast it into the waves, so it may return to me.
“That is all? You swear it?”
You would seek to bind me, child?
“I would know you will honor your bargain.”
I will honor it.
The currents moved around us. If I did this thing, Telegonus would live. That was all that mattered. “I am ready,” I said. “Strike.”
No. You must put your hand to the venom yourself.
The water sucked at me. The darkness shriveled my courage. The sand was not smooth but jumbled with pieces of bone. All that died in the sea came to rest there at last. My skin rose, prickling and prickling, as if it would tear away and leave me. There was no mercy among the gods, I had known it all my life. I made myself walk forward. Something caught at my foot. A rib cage. I pulled free. If I stopped, I would never move again.
I came to the seam where his tail joined gray skin. The flesh above looked unwholesomely soft, like something rotted. The spine rasped faintly against the ocean floor. Up close I could see its sawtooth edge, and I smelled its power, thick and gagging-sweet. Would I be able to climb out of the deep again, once the venom was in