CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOURTEEN

The Girl That Time Forgot, Part 1

The golden-scaled dragon touched down at the edge of the grove just ten yards to the left of where the Argo VII was parked, effectively cutting off the team’s escape route. Although, with the way they were now standing shoulder to shoulder with weapons and powers at the ready, it didn’t seem like the crew of the Argo VII had the thought of escape on their minds.

“I thought you couldn’t find the grove without the bloody key?” Jackboot asked.

His suit was caked in dragon ichor. It smelled of entrails, too. Funnily enough, everyone but Thunder appeared in a similar state, making them look like a gathering of extras in a zombie TV show rather than the heroes they were.

“Medea,” Sam and Thunder said together, to which Farsight added, “Duh.”

“That’s possible. The sorceress has been known to bypass even the most powerful magical locks.” Dr. Hearthstone just finished putting his material farming tool back into his utility belt. “We can ask them how they managed it…after we’ve beaten their faces black and blue.”

“I like that idea,” Farsight said.

“Hold on, what happened to the other dragon?” Thunder asked Sam. “Did you kill it?”

“I don’t think so, but I hurt it pretty badly,” Sam admitted. “And I think it got sucked into the same abyss that took me.”

“That’s one less thing to worry about then,” Jackboot chimed in.

“Might make this an easier fight,” Dr. Hearthstone agreed.

Sam frowned. “Um, you guys see who’s riding that thing, right?”

Two villains rode on the chariot saddled to the solar dragon’s back, and the sight of Medea and her companion sent Sam’s danger-sense tingling like never before.

There was the tall, gaunt, dark-haired woman with the doll-like face in her all-white blouse and skirt that barely hid her shapely figure. A thick sash was wrapped around her waist that pressed various instruments of witchcraft to her body.

“Hello again,” Medea called in a genial tone that belied the hostility in her eyes.

She waved excitedly at Sam and his friends before her gaze took in the length and breadth of the grove.

“How strange… I never thought I’d visit this place ever again,” Medea said, sounding almost wistful. “I’d left so many fond memories here.”

As her violet eyes zoned in on the thirty-foot corpse lying on the ground behind the line of heroes, the creepiest smile Sam had ever seen appeared on Medea’s face.

“I see you’ve slain the Dragon Kholkikos.” She clapped her hands before continuing with, “I would have just put it to sleep… That’s what we did, you know. I and my beloved husband, the first”—Medea’s voice grew harsh as she said the next part—“and absolute worse of the Argonauts.”

“Some might say the same thing about you…except you were never an Argonaut, were you, Medea?” Thunder piped up.

“I may not have been part of that all-male band of weak-minded, self-indulgent fools, but it was my magic that ensured their quest’s success… And what did Jason do?” Actual tears were beginning to pool underneath Medea’s eyes. “He shacks up with the first royal floozy thrown at him, banishing me and our children from our home!”

Medea wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her blouse.

“I am the victim here… can’t you see that?” she sniffled. “I am the woman scorned, abandoned by the man I loved…thrown away after a lack of use and old age made me undesirable to his eyes…”

The sadness in Medea’s voice made Sam take pity on her because he could hear the sincerity in her words. Thunder, however, wasn’t so easily swayed by the appeal of the sorceress.

“Whatever pity you earned from Jason’s repulsive behavior dried up with all the people you’ve murdered across the centuries,” Thunder argued.

“Not to mention the mountain of crimes she’s racked up,” Farsight chimed in.

Medea’s weepy expression vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, unapologetic face that brought with it the truth that she wasn’t depressed over her sordid past. She was acting this whole time.

“Everyone’s a critic.” Medea rolled her eyes exaggeratedly at Thunder.

“You don’t deserve our pity, sorceress,” Thunder reiterated. Her eyes narrowed.

Medea sighed exaggeratedly. “My, my… such hostility.”

Her dragon lowered itself to the ground so that she and her companion could hop off it in a dignified fashion.

“Can’t we all just get along?” she asked, her eyes drifting from Sam to Thunder and then back to Sam. “Besides, haven’t you already completed your task? I can tell from her spunk that your friend has been cured of her illness.”

Medea raised a beckoning hand toward Sam.

“There’s no need to fight. Can’t you just let us have the Golden Fleece?” she asked in a voice that was like honey to Sam’s ears.

“No need to fight,” Sam repeated lazily. “Give you…the fleece…”

He wasn’t sure why, but he thought Medea made a lot of sense. He’d already healed Thunder. They didn’t need the Golden Fleece anymore, did they?

WARNING! [Medea] is attempting to cast [Charm] on you. WARNING! Your intelligence score may not be high enough to resist [Charm]. ALERT! [Regeneration (Δ)] strengthens your resistance to [Charm].

Oh, Styx… So that’s why my brain feels so… clouded.

ALERT! You have successfully shrugged off the effects of [Charm] with the help of [Regeneration (Δ)].

The mist that had hovered over Sam’s mind cleared so that he was suddenly embarrassed by his earlier words.

Thanks, Triple-A.

It is recommended that the hero increase your intelligence score to defend yourself from mental attacks in the future.

I’ll consider it, he promised.

Sam felt a painful jolt on his shoulder.

“Whoa!” He grimaced at Thunder. “What in Hades was that for?”

“You were letting her charm you, lame-brain,” Thunder snapped.

“I already shrugged it off,” Sam protested.

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Thunder said although she didn’t look apologetic at all.

Sam sighed.

“If only you’d let yourself be swayed by my spell, we wouldn’t have to get so…messy.” Medea placed a hand on the shoulder of her companion while sending an icy glare in Sam’s direction. “You may begin, my dear.”

The teenage girl who wore a bronze breastplate over her white robe—a style pretty similar to Sam’s new look before his clothes burned away—seemed the less threatening compared to the immortal sorceress. Yet, the crew of the Argo VII collectively took a step back when this girl stepped forward. Such was the menace of Pandora the 8th that they couldn’t help but be wary of her and the small pithos she carried.

“Blessed Athena,” Thunder eyed the pithos warily. “How can something so small radiate so much… dark energy?”

“What did you expect?” Farsight notched an arrow to her bow, one with a glass tip that carried a spark of light inside of it. “It’s Pandora’s Box. That’s as dark as dark gets.”

“It’s not really a box, though, is it?” Jackboot argued. “It’s more like a mud jar… Calling it a box is just confusing.”

“You can blame Hesiod the Historian for that,” Farsight said.

“Pandora’s Pithos or Pandora’s Jar doesn’t quite have the same ring as Pandora’s Box,” Dr. Hearthstone chimed in.

“Focus, guys… She’s getting ready to do something,” Thunder warned.

Interestingly enough, Sam hadn’t joined in on their usual banter. He hadn’t been paying attention to his friends at all. Not since he was distracted by Pandora’s eyes, which, to Sam’s growing unease, seemed so familiar to him.

He recalled Chiron’s words at the top of the Tower of Pain. “You can’t afford to be distracted, kid.”

But why did he say that to me? Sam wondered. What’s the connection between me and her?

His worried musings, however, were drowned out by Farsight’s warning. “Don’t let her open it!”

Pandora the 8th’s left hand was moving toward the bronze cap of the pithos she carried in her right hand. Sam and his friends quickly moved to stop her, but not even Farsight’s flash arrow would reach the villain in time.

That’s when Sam felt the hairs on his arms rise—and he let out a sigh of relief. This was his usual reaction whenever Thunder cast a lightning bolt, the kind he hadn’t seen her use in a long while.

Thunder hurled her jagged bolt at Pandora the 8th much like Zeus might have done to Pandora the 1st. It hurtled across the air at blinding speed to crash down on the teenage villain’s head just before she could uncap her pithos.

Krak-ka-boom!

The lightning bolt struck the magical barrier Medea erected to protect Pandora. Although this hastily made spell couldn’t completely repel Thunder’s attack. It did manage to greatly weaken the bolt’s power, though. However, there was enough of its strength remaining to shock Pandora, temporarily stunning the villain so that she couldn’t unleash hellfire and brimstone on the heroes’ heads.

Thunder’s lightning bolt had also achieved one other thing. It managed to eat away at the clasp of Pandora the 8th’s silk shawl so that it fell off the girl and finally revealed the face hidden underneath.

Sam’s eyes widened in disbelief. “It can’t be…”

Now that he could see her face, Sam recognized her instantly. How could he not when Pandora the 8th was the spitting image of their mother.