Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #13 April 2015 | Page 122

Her eyes were pure silver, no iris or pupil. They fixed
on him, and held him motionless. When she spoke,
her voice arrived in his head without passing through
his ears. The words were harsh and guttural. Somewhere in his mind, he realized that this was the Greek
spoken tens of thousands of years ago, when she had
roamed the Mediterranean and lived in splendour on
Olympus, before the beliefs of men had changed, and
strange religions come out of the deserts, stealing her
worshippers away and diminishing her power until
she was restricted to just a few nights every century
or so on this forgotten strip of beach. For all that, she
was still powerful. The words were angry and her
eyes were blazing. To spy upon a goddess bathing…
no mortal could do that and remain unpunished. The
stream of Greek suddenly ceased, and she flicked her
arm as if to dismiss him. She turned away and moved

off out to sea, her handmaidens dancing attendance in
the waves.
“That’s me good for another few decades then,” said
Bill happily, and turned to walk away. Stewart tried to
call after him, but his throat was blocked and he could
barely manage a strangled whisper.
The pain started in his feet. He wrenched his shoes
off, and screaming watched as his toes fused together
into one lump, and then split down the middle. His
legs began to itch and burn. He took down his trousers
and was not surprised to see coarse black hairs forcing
their way through his skin. Reaching up, he could feel
the beginning of horns at his temples. A fresh wave of
pain came as the bones in his knees began to snap and
be reshaped. Behind him the two satyrs listened and
waited.

Euterpe - Leonardo Poscia
PAGE 121