Forty-One

It was just past noon when the gondolas carrying first-year parents began pulling up to the porch of the Accademia. Ava clutched her suitcase, scanning the incoming fleet for her mom. She still couldn’t believe she had survived an entire year at the Accademia—and she didn’t just mean passing her classes.

After she and the others returned to the school, Mr. Orion and Ms. Demi together accompanied them to the Olympian council, where Zeus proposed sending them all to Tartarus.

Confident that a majority of the gods would support his proposal, he put the matter to a vote. But Ava later learned that Persephone demanded Hades help her with her pomegranate harvest, so he missed the council that day, and Hestia poured too much wine for Dionysus, then changed his vote after he passed out. Still, Zeus had enough votes until Athena, who had never once voted against him, went missing. As a result, the final count was five to five, and Zeus’s measure failed. Not even Ms. Demi knew if Athena was dragged off and prevented from voting or whether she had purposely abstained. Adding to the intrigue, a fly had been spotted buzzing around Olympus a few hours before the council gathered.

Even though they were readmitted into the Accademia, Ava and the others didn’t escape punishment altogether. Every day, after class, they had work duty. Mr. Orion, who Zeus proclaimed would be stepping down as headmaster at the end of the year, made Ava scrub the water stains off all the walls of the first floor, including his office. Ms. Clio made Fia organize and alphabetize the entire library of Greek and Roman myths. Arnold had to clean Zale’s room, including his private bathroom, which according to Arnold “smelled worse than any Harpy.” Layla was tasked with mopping up the water Anahita and Morgan churned up and spilled over the sides of the pool during swim practice. Jax got off easiest: he had to assist the school nurse, healing the injuries students received, mostly in Mr. Heff’s Design Lab. But Ava noticed that Mr. Orion and the other teachers were more careful now not to anger them, as if they sensed a shift in the balance of power.

Mr. Orion didn’t inform any of their parents about what had happened or how close they had come to being not only expelled but sentenced to death. In fact, he never spoke about Ava and her friends’ so-called misdeeds, especially in the presence of other students. Fia tried to tell a few kids about the real Medusa and how she was a goddess, not a monster, but they didn’t believe her; Ms. Demi advised her to bide her time.

But Ava knew someone who would believe Medusa’s story. It was a discussion that Ava wanted to have in person, however, which was why she couldn’t wait till her mom finally arrived to take her home.

Spring had returned to the partially submerged city: the bone-chilling winds of winter were gone, and the warm June sun reflected off the lagoon. College students and families were starting to pour in for the height of the tourist season; the Accademia would masquerade as a regular old palazzo, opening its doors to the summertime crowds. The magic would be stripped away; the gods and so-called monsters dispersed back to their homes. Glancing back, Ava thought she’d almost miss it. But then she heard her mother’s voice.

“Ava!”

She spotted her parents, both of them waving frantically, as a gondolier steered up toward the stone porch. They hadn’t had the money to fly in for Easter, which Ava had spent with Layla. It had been five and a half long months.

A hand touched her shoulder.

“You should talk to Mom alone,” Jax said from behind her. “I’ll tell Dad I have too much stuff. We’ll take another boat.”

“Are you sure?” Ava said. “You’re part of the story.”

Jax grinned. “Just make sure to tell her the part where I saved your life, okay?”

Ava pretended to be confused. “When was that?”

He gave her a gentle shove toward their parents’ incoming gondola. Ava smiled. Jax would always be her annoying older brother, but she knew, when it mattered, he had her back.

“Mom!” she shouted, reaching out her hand.

The Bridge of Sighs was a covered walkway across the canal made of white limestone. According to legend, it offered a beautiful last view of Venice to the doomed inmates who’d once crossed it to be locked up for life or executed on the other side. Ava had convinced their gondolier to park beneath it for a bit; while he squatted in the front of the boat, talking on the phone with his girlfriend, Ava and her mom sat side by side, looking up at one of the city’s most famous bridges. Sad and frightened stone faces dotted the side of it.

“Why did the builder make them so unhappy?” Ava asked.

“They’re called mascaron faces,” her mom said. “They’re supposed to scare evil away.”

Ava noticed a single happy face. “Not that one, though. Why’s she there?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a he,” her mom said. “Some people say he’s the guardian of the bridge.”

“Then I definitely think that’s a woman,” Ava said. “Women make the best guardians.”

Her mom gently smoothed a wayward curl away from her face. “That doesn’t sound like something you learned at the Accademia.”

Ava cocked her head. “Actually, it’s something I learned outside of it. About Medusa. Her name means ‘guardian’ or ‘protector.’”

Her mom looked down at her lap, her face unconsciously imitating all the sad ones on the bridge. “Our ancestor.”

“And friend,” Ava gently added. “I know you met her.”

Her mom’s head jerked up, and she stared straight at Ava. “What?”

“I know what happened, Mom. How you tried to free her and asked the Oracle how to break the curse. How you got caught by Poseidon. It meant so much to her that you tried to help her. She’s been worried about you.”

Her mom blinked. “What makes you say that?”

“She told me!”

“You saw her? That’s not possible! Please tell me you didn’t go to Poveglia—”

Ava nodded, but before she could even explain, her mom’s eyes flashed.

“Ava! What were you thinking!?”

She sounded furious. But Ava knew she was really afraid.

“Mom. It’s okay, I’m safe.”

But her mom didn’t seem to hear her. “I’ve been so worried. On the first day of school, Mr. Moros told me, ‘If your daughter doesn’t control herself, she’ll end up in the underworld.’”

“That’s why you froze him!”

This time, her mom didn’t deny it. “In Rome you asked why I’d changed. The gods threatened me after I was caught on Poveglia. I couldn’t be that fearless girl who tried to help Medusa. And once I had you and Jax, I just wanted to keep you both safe.”

“I understand why you hid your feelings and who you were,” Ava said. “But that couldn’t have made you happy, and it didn’t protect me. I hate to tell you this, but what Mr. Moros said, it actually happened.”

Her mom paled, then took her hand and squeezed it, as if to make sure she was still alive. “What do you mean?”

“Just listen to my story. I’ll tell you.”

Her mom collapsed back into the padded seat. Ava took advantage of her dazed silence to pour out the tale. She told her mom about Fia’s silencing, freezing Mr. Orion, meeting Medusa, and the journey that took her from the underworld to Olympus in search of her ancestor’s true story. She told her how they were related to Mr. Orion and explained how he protected them and resented them at the same time. She described how Ms. Demi, Persephone, and Hecate had saved them from drowning with Jax’s help. Her mom’s face reflected every twist and turn, every moment of peril and triumph. She listened the way a mother did best.

When Ava reached the end, she clasped her mom’s hands in her own.

“Medusa’s story is our story. You don’t have to be afraid.”

Her mom shook her head. “But Zeus—”

“We have allies and protectors too. Zeus didn’t even have the votes to harm me.”

Her mom just sighed. “He’s tricky, Ava. He’ll find a way; he’ll always try to keep you down.”

Ava stared fiercely at her mom. “And I’ll always find a way to get back up. I’m not going to live in fear, and you shouldn’t, either. We’re not monsters, Mom. We’re goddesses—smart, fearless, and beautiful.”

Her mom’s eyes flickered, but then she unconsciously smoothed back her hair with a sigh. “I don’t know, Ava. It may be too late for me.”

“What do you mean? You’re a daughter of Metis and Medusa! You can help other women. You can go back to being a social worker—”

“I did like that,” her mom admitted. “Did you know I worked with abused women?”

“Of course you did!” Ava said triumphantly. “It’s in your blood.”

Her mom didn’t seem to hear her. “It’s been so many years, though. I don’t have the courage to go out there anymore and fight.”

“Yes,” Ava said firmly. “You do. You’re my heroine, Mom. I may have finished finding out Medusa’s story, but you started the journey—all by yourself. I couldn’t have succeeded without you.”

A tear rolled down her mom’s cheek, and she covered her face with her hands. Ava couldn’t help it. She started crying too.

“I’m sorry for everything you’ve had to go through,” Ava said.

Her mom took Ava’s hand, revealing her own tearstained face. “It’s just so hard . . .” she whispered between sniffs. “To stop being afraid.”

Ava squeezed her hand, then rested her head against her mom’s shoulder. “I know,” she said gently. “But I’ll help you.”

Her mom looked up at the faces on the Bridge of Sighs and took a deep breath. Then she turned to Ava and, like the lone happy face, allowed herself to smile.