‘Gorgons are immortal creatures,’ Athene said. ‘Did you really not know this?’
‘No,’ said Perseus. ‘Well, yes, I suppose I would have guessed they were something like that, because the Graiai mentioned they were sisters.’ He tried and failed to suppress the shudder that afflicted him whenever he thought of the hateful hags. If he had been brave enough, he would have told Athene that he hoped they were exactly like the Graiai. Because then he would not struggle to behead one.
‘They are indeed sisters to the Graiai,’ said Hermes, and Perseus supposed that his pomposity was just part of his nature and had to be tolerated.
‘But they are far more deadly,’ Athene explained.
This was not what Perseus had been hoping to hear. ‘More deadly?’ he asked. ‘How much more?’
‘Well,’ said Hermes, leaning on his staff. ‘A lot more. The Graiai are old, and blind, and only have a single tooth between them. Had, I should say. The Gorgons are predators.’
‘Like wild cats?’ asked Perseus. ‘Or eagles?’
‘No,’ said Athene. ‘Like dangerous creatures who would swallow you whole if you irritated them.’
‘I see,’ said Perseus. ‘Lucky the Hesperides gave me this sword.’ The harpē was the only thing he hadn’t complained about since he received it.
‘Lent you this sword, I think,’ said Hermes. ‘It belongs to your father, and he will want it back.’
‘What do they look like?’ asked Perseus.
‘You really need to worry about the tusks,’ said Hermes. ‘They have huge, sharp teeth and they could crunch your bones in a beat of your puny heart.’
‘Right,’ said Perseus. ‘Avoid the teeth.’
‘They also have wings,’ Athene said.
‘So they can fly at me, with their teeth?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘They’re incredibly strong,’ added Hermes. ‘As strong as a god, really.’
‘So it’s not just the tusks I need to avoid?’ Perseus said. ‘It’s more the whole creature?’
‘That would be ideal,’ said Hermes.
‘Except I need to decapitate one.’ Perseus thought for a while. ‘Perhaps I could sneak up on one from behind?’
‘Yes and no,’ said Hermes.
‘Why no?’
‘The snakes, of course,’ snapped Athene.
‘They live somewhere surrounded by snakes?’ Perseus asked. He hadn’t even begun to think about the environment in which the Gorgons might live. He’d been too busy concentrating on what they might be.
‘No,’ Hermes said. ‘They are surrounded by snakes.’
Perseus sighed. He wasn’t afraid of snakes, he didn’t think. But it probably depended on how many snakes there were, and this didn’t sound good.
‘The Gorgons are all surrounded by snakes?’ he asked. ‘Do they just sit among them or . . .’
‘The snakes are part of them,’ Athene explained.
‘I see. I don’t suppose they’re at ground level, are they? Where one might usually see snakes?’
‘No,’ said Athene. ‘They have snakes for hair.’
‘Oh,’ said Perseus. ‘So right by the head, really?’
‘Yes,’ said Hermes. ‘You couldn’t sneak up behind one of them. Because the snakes would see you.’
‘And the snakes can talk?’ Perseus wondered how much worse this could get.
Both gods looked at him as though he were an imbecile. ‘Of course they can’t talk,’ said Athene. ‘They’re snakes.’
‘Then how do they communicate with the Gorgons?’
‘They hiss,’ said Hermes. ‘I suppose that might sound like talking to them.’
Perseus felt foolish, and vaguely aggrieved. ‘So would the snakes see me if it was the darkest hour of the night?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I think so,’ Hermes said. ‘Snakes can see in the dark, can’t they?’
Athene nodded.
‘I don’t know how anyone could decapitate one of these deathless monsters!’ Perseus cried, and he slumped forward.
‘I struggle to believe sometimes that you’re the son of Zeus,’ said Hermes. ‘Although he believes you are, so it must be true.’
‘Why?’ Perseus asked. ‘Everything you’ve told me makes me certain that this task is impossible. They can eat me. They can fly. They’re stronger than me. They are covered in snakes.’
‘You have the cap of Hades,’ Athene reminded him.
‘I have a hat,’ Perseus agreed.
‘That belongs to Hades,’ Hermes said. ‘And renders the wearer invisible.’
There was silence.
‘I suppose that does help with the snakes,’ said Perseus. ‘So I can sneak up on the Gorgons after all.’
‘They have excellent hearing,’ said Athene.
‘Right,’ said Perseus. ‘But perhaps I could approach them while they sleep.’
Again the gods looked at one another. ‘Gorgons don’t sleep,’ said Hermes. ‘They’re Gorgons. Well, one of them might sleep, but the others? No.’
‘Oh,’ said Perseus. ‘I thought they might need to lie down occasionally. To rest their snakes and so on.’
‘No,’ said Athene. ‘They don’t do that.’
‘So they’re always awake, always alert?’ he asked. His voice was quavering a little.
‘They’re rational creatures who don’t want to die,’ Hermes explained. ‘You have a sword, loaned to you by your father. And a cap of darkness, borrowed from Hades himself. You can’t expect everything to be easy. Otherwise you wouldn’t be completing a quest at all, would you? You could have just stayed on Seriphos and one of us could have fetched a Gorgon head for you.’
Perseus had thought for some time now that this would be the ideal solution to his problems but something about Hermes’s tone made him refrain from saying so.
‘I thought you said they were immortal.’ He frowned. Every time he gained something – a sliver of knowledge, a little divine assistance – he seemed to lose something else.
‘Two of them are immortal,’ Athene clarified. ‘One of them is mortal.’
‘So I need to behead the mortal one?’
‘Yes, obviously,’ replied Hermes.
‘They will defend her, if they can,’ said Athene quickly. ‘She is much loved.’
‘Why would anyone love a monster?’ asked Perseus.
‘Who are you to decide who is worthy of love?’ said Hermes.
‘I mean, I wasn’t . . .’
‘And who are you to decide who is a monster?’ added the messenger god.
‘She called them monsters,’ said Perseus, pointing at Athene.
‘No, I didn’t,’ she said. ‘I called them dangerous creatures, which they are. You’re the one who thinks anything that doesn’t look like you must be a monster.’
‘They have snakes for hair!’ Perseus cried.
‘Snakes aren’t monsters,’ said Hermes.
‘And tusks.’