Perseus and the Mirror Shield

Perseus had never done anything braver than the day he said, "I will bring you Medusa's head."

He said it because the king was being cruel to his mother, and Perseus could not bear to see her sad. But now, standing on the cliffside, he wondered if he had been very foolish.

Then the goddess Athena appeared beside him, silver-grey like moonlight. "You will need three things," she said. "A pair of winged sandals from the nymphs of the north. A bag that can hold anything without spilling. And my shield — polished bright as a mirror, so you need never look at Medusa directly."

Perseus thanked her and set off. The winged sandals lifted him off the ground and carried him high over rivers and mountains until he reached a land of shadows and cold stone. He found Medusa's cave, where the snakes that grew from her hair hissed softly in her sleep.

He turned his back on her. He raised the mirror-shield and watched her reflection — the serpent curls, the scaled cheeks, the closed and terrible eyes. He lifted his sword. He struck.

He ran. Or rather, he flew — as fast as his sandals would carry him, the bag sealed tightly at his side.

On his way home, Perseus spotted a girl chained to a rock above the churning sea, and a sea monster rising toward her from the deep. He dove down and slew the monster with the same brave, clever heart he had used in the cave.

The girl's name was Andromeda, and they were married before the summer was done.

Perseus's mother dried her eyes and danced at the wedding. And Perseus thought: the cleverest brave thing I ever did was refuse to look at something dangerous — and find another way to see it clearly.