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