Flower children? Really? Part of me wanted to stop the conversation right then and there and demand someone explain what was going on here. Had we seriously stumbled on some sort of hippie commune in the middle of the Titan realm?
“I thought you said we were meeting a Queen? What happened to your King?” James asked before I could voice my own concerns.
“Oh, right,” she replied, cheeks burning even redder this time. “King Antiphates wasn’t interested in seeking enlightenment. He wasn’t fond of the idea of discovering inner peace. Or outer peace, really. Anyway, we decided to remove his chakras and send his negativity out to the sea.”
“His what?” James asked.
“They cut him up and tossed his body to the sharks,” I whispered.
“Anyway, that’s all behind us, now. We’ve accepted our place in the universe as Gaia’s chosen since then. We are now the harvesters of the earth. We don’t even care who shags whom, anymore. That’s how hip we are.” She giggled and shot a glance back at James and me, her eyes burning with a little something more than altruism and goodwill. “Say, have either of you ever made it with a giant?”
“Made it?” James asked.
The Laestrygonian flashed me an eloquent look.
“Ye still haven’t told us what any of this has to do with us,” I said, choosing to ignore her overture and focus on the task at hand before James got sucked into a conversation he might never survive. As the old adage said: if you had to ask, you probably didn’t want to know. No sense traumatizing the poor Neverlander. “Or what ye plan to do with our crew member,” I added.
“I told you, that’s Queen Adonia’s bag.”
Fortunately, it seemed we didn’t have long to wait to find out what Queen Adonia had to say on the matter; she came into view only a few moments later as we finally cleared the urban sprawl, stepping out among the remains of what appeared to be a devastated section of the city—decimated renditions of the marvelous architecture we’d been privy to up to this point— shattered as though they’d been hit by a hurricane.
The queen, pale-skinned and fair-haired, stood among the rubble. Unlike the vast majority of her subjects, she was not entirely nude but more...tastefully decorated. She wore a laurel wreath upon her head, her arms and legs encircled by golden bracelets, her breasts and hips hidden behind seashells woven together by silken threads. Still, even without the adornment, I’d have recognized her; standing perhaps a foot taller than our escort, she displayed the regal bearing that only true sovereigns ever seemed to manage. Provided they aren’t ugly, of course. Ugly royals are still ugly.
“That’s it, put it there!” she cried, waving one gilded arm from the far end of the site to the other. Four male giants moved as one to accommodate her. A pillar as long and thick as a mast lay mounted across their backs. Each of the Laestrygonians were coated in enough white dust and moved with such eerie grace that it nearly took away the novelty of seeing four naked males carrying a phallic symbol across a courtyard at the behest of a woman in charge.
Nearly.
“My Queen!”
Queen Adonia spun around, saw us, and held up a hand for us to wait. “Put it up next to the others, then go report to Obelius!” she instructed.
The Laestrygonian she gestured towards stood about a dozen yards away, helping a crew salvage what they could from a building that appeared to have been shorn in half. He was as large as she was, if I had to guess, but twice as thick; his muscles strained with the effort of holding up an entire wall as we watched, his skin ripe with bulges. It took me a moment, but I recognized him as the first giant who’d snuck up on Tiger Lily and I.
The workers nodded and wandered off without so much as a word, their grunts lost amidst the general din of construction. A column like the one they’d carried rose to our right, hoisted by a series of ropes and pulleys. Indeed, the general level of engineering seemed not so different from what you might expect to see in a developing nation; there weren’t any jackhammers or power drills, but there were plenty of tools I recognized. Still, this whole section of the city seemed to have sustained a catastrophic amount of damage—far more than what simple tools could fix in any sort of reasonable time frame.
“Earthquake?” I asked, once the queen was in earshot. I gestured vaguely at the mess, unsure what else to make of it. A hurricane would have meant water damage and would have left behind things like trees and rocks in its wake. But there was nothing like that here.
“What, this?” The queen made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat and bade us to follow her to the edge of the worksite, where we might hear her better. Her voice was softer than our escort’s, but far sterner; there was none of the playfulness in this one. “No, Polyphemus is certainly a walking disaster, but not a natural one.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “Poly what now?”
“Polyphemus. A Cyclops. A son of Poseidon, the god of the sea who usurped Lord Oceanus.” Queen Adonia gave me a funny look, as though I’d said something inexplicably dumb, or at least socially reprehensible. “The dumb brute should never have been relocated with the rest of us, but that’s what happens when you let a bunch of glorified bureaucrats handle—“
“My Queen...” our escort interrupted, her tone clearly urging a little restraint.
“Oh, give it a rest, Ismene. The Olympians were to blame for this, and we all know it. Giving us our own realm like we wanted their charity, then leaving us to rot. Thank Gaia for the Stranger, or we’d have devoured each other and there’d be nothing left.”
“For real, but I still wish you wouldn’t sweat it.” Ismene coughed into her hand. “My Queen.”
Adonia rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to forgive my daughter. She’s really bought into this whole clean living, clean eating lifestyle we’ve adopted. She prefers not to dwell on the past.”
“Live in the now, because the present is a present, you dig?”
“Yes, like that,” Adonia said, rolling her eyes. “Meanwhile, I wish I still had some meat in my diet.” The queen patted her taut stomach with a discontented sigh, drawing my attention to her body in a way it hadn’t before. She, like Ismene and so many of their race, seemed almost improbably fit. To be honest, I had to admit it was a nice change; in my experience, attractive giants were harder and harder to come by these days.
“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand as my brain finally caught up to the full content of our conversation, “d’ye say a Cyclops did all this?”
“That is exactly what I said,” Adonia replied. “The bastard sneaks onto our island once every couple months to take one or more of us, usually while they’re sleeping. He never subscribed to the Stranger’s teachings, though this is the first time he’s actually attacked us. Obelius and a few others were able to chase him off, thank Gaia, or the damage would be far worse.”
I glanced back and forth between the mother and daughter as I tried to process what they’d insinuated. Polyphemus, a one-eyed Cyclops, had been sneaking onto the island of man-eating—excuse me, formerly man-eating—cannibals to snatch and, in turn, devour them. Until, apparently, he’d changed tactics and leveled a whole city block. Talk about a vicious cycle. Good thing Charles Darwin had stumbled on Galapagos and not this island, or he’d have written an altogether different theory of evolution.
On the Origin of Sustenance by Means of Unnatural Selection.
Yikes.
“Alright, so what is it ye want from me, then?” I asked, at last. “Your daughter couldn’t tell me what this is all about.”
“I thought that would be obvious,” Adonia replied. “I want you to kill Polyphemus, of course.”
30
We retired as a group from the ravaged edges of the city to the temple overlooking the sea. The air was crisper this high up, briny and salt-laden. Birds called to each other from the gardens that lay outside the temple grounds, audible just above the purr of the surf below. A breeze drifted across my skin, light as gossamer.
It rea
lly was a beautiful day to talk about murder.
“Killing him would be ideal, but blinding Polyphemus would suffice,” Adonia said as we left the outdoors for the cool recesses of the temple proper. Terrifically ornate columns stood in rows a hundred feet high on our left, casting long shadows across the pool that ran the length of the temple. Adonia reached out to brush her fingers along each as we passed, muttering a blessing as she went. “Ismene and Obelius tell me you managed to evade our welcome party,” she continued. “By magical means, to hear Ismene tell it.”
“She was there one second and gone the next,” Ismene said, grinning widely. “We booked it to the edge, but there was no one there. No one at the base of the hill, either. She totally bearded us.”
“And then, of course, there were the gardeners you attacked,” Adonia added, not the least bit fazed by her daughter’s rampant and occasionally erroneous use of 60’s slang. “They say you appeared out of nowhere, despite the fact that they’d thoroughly checked the area when they captured your companion.” The queen’s gaze drifted over to James. “Not this one, though, I think. You don’t seem the type to threaten to slit someone’s throat.”
“Tiger Lily?” James asked me.
I nodded, then shrugged as if to say “what else was she supposed to do?” Truthfully, I still wasn’t sure whether or not I’d have let her kill the gardener who’d fainted. In hindsight, I was really glad she hadn’t; I doubted we’d have received this level of hospitality if we’d have cut one of their people’s throats. Hell, they might even have done the same to Narcissus as punishment.
And, speaking of Narcissus...
“Quinn! And James!” the Greek shouted, waving merrily from his perch—an alcove carved into the wall, its recesses layered in cushions of all shapes and sizes. A very nude Narcissus lounged across them, popped a grape the size of a walnut into his mouth, and grinned at us with one bulging cheek. “Do you like what I’ve done with the place?” he asked, gesturing to his little nook. “It was so drab before. Excellent builders, these giants, but their interior decorating could use some work. Thank the gods I came along.”
“Is this mortal truly yours?” Adonia asked, eyeing Narcissus skeptically. James and I exchanged a look; neither of us were eager to claim the indolent bastard, but we’d come this far already. At last, I nodded.
“Unfortunately.”
“Good. Please take him back.”
I sniggered but didn’t immediately agree; there were answers I needed to questions I’d yet to ask. Better to find out more about the role they wanted me to play before I agreed to help them. And besides, if I could use Narcissus’ extremely grating personality to my advantage, I would gladly do so. It was about time our self-centered liability did something useful.
“First, can ye tell me why ye t’ink I have a chance of blindin’ Polyphemus when ye lot can’t even stop him from wreckin’ half your city?”
“We gave you the skinny, already,” Ismene insisted. “What you did was unreal. If you can do that again, you could sneak onto his island. You could beard that Clyde like Odysseus did.”
The instant she mentioned Polyphemus and Odysseus in the same breath, I was able to recall the legend that linked the two—or at least part of it. From what I remembered, Odysseus and his men had ended up caught by Polyphemus, who’d eaten them two at a time for several days before Odysseus got the Cyclops drunk, stabbed his eye out, and escaped by impersonating sheep. The only thing that had saved Odysseus from being killed by the other Cyclopes on the island was the fact that he’d told Polyphemus his name was “nobody.” It was a clever trick, until the infamous veteran had gone and shouted his real name for all the world to hear—including Poseidon, who’d taken a real disliking to the mortal who’d blinded his son.
“Wait, so what happened to his eye? Shouldn’t he still be blind?” I asked, confused.
“Poseidon replaced it with an eye given to him by Helios,” Adonia replied. “The other Cyclopes left the island long ago, and since then he’s even grown worse. He’s more a monster now than he ever was. Which is why we were hoping you’d be able to do what we could not. Stealth is what our people lack, not speed or strength.”
I bit my lip, considering her request. Unfortunately for us all, I had no idea how I’d managed to teleport myself from one place to another. A theory gnawed at me—triggered by the faintest memory of stepping from my mother’s cosmic hallway to the inner sanctum of the Winter Queen. But back then I’d operated purely on instinct; I’d wanted to travel between worlds and somehow knew exactly how to get there. This time I’d done it reflexively, like running across a tightrope at full speed without thinking. The question was, could I count on my reflexes to kick in when facing a creature powerful enough to level a city block? I doubted it. As for relying on cleverness alone, well...let’s just say Odysseus went through a lot of epically awful shit before he ever made it home.
“I don’t know if I can help ye,” I admitted. “What I did was more by accident than design. And I doubt Polyphemus will fall for the same trick a second time.”
“I see.” Adonia lowered her gaze to meet mine. “I should tell you, we know all about the state of your boat.”
I shot a glare at Narcissus, but the Greek was too busy admiring his naked reflection in the temple’s pool to notice. James, however, flinched. He’d heard it, too—the underlying threat in Queen Adonia’s statement. Would she send her people to destroy it if we refused? Were there Laestrygonians in place already, waiting to rain boulders down upon the Jolly Roger?
“What about it?” I asked.
“If you help us, our people will move the boat for you. We will make sure it’s seaworthy, that it is stocked with all the food and water you will need for your journey, and we would consider any other request you would make of us.”
“I told them you’d be hard pressed to say no to a deal like that,” Narcissus added, running his fingers lovingly along the contours of his face, his reflection beaming back at him. “Seemed like the best we could hope for, am I right?”
“Aye, it’s not a bad offer,” I replied, thoughtfully. In truth, Adonia’s terms were the best we could have hoped for. Provided we survived Polyphemus, this was easily the most efficient course of action; with the Laestrygonians’ strength and engineering skills, we could likely return the Jolly Roger to the sea intact. Plus, with enough food and water to survive our whole journey, we wouldn’t have to make landfall anywhere else, which meant it was possible we’d reach Atlantis and secure Lugh’s Spear well before Ryan. If so, he’d be out of options and far more willing to talk. Or at least I hoped so. “But ye know,” I added, fixing my attention on Narcissus, “if I’m goin’, then so are ye.”
“Who, me?” Narcissus finally looked away from the water, his eyes wide, mouth gaping. “Oh, well of course I’m flattered you’d want me along, but—”
“Stow it,” I barked. “From now on, where I go, ye go. That way I can keep an eye on ye and make sure ye keep your trap shut.” I turned my attention back to the queen of the Laestrygonians, struck by the terms of her offer. “Alright, let’s say I agree, how does this work?”
“If you agree, I will send you and whomever you wish to Polyphemus’ island in my fastest ship. I’ll also send my greatest warrior, Obelius, and my best crew. Obelius will confirm you did as you promised, or that you were slain in the attempt. I’m afraid I must insist that none of my people aid you directly. That is not a risk I wish to take. Too many lives have been claimed by Polyphemus already.”
So, we’d be on our own, then. I had to crane my neck to study the queen’s face, and even then I wasn’t entirely sure I could accurately read her expression. Regardless, I felt I understood where she was coming from; her people were under siege and, despite their superior numbers, unable to stop what amounted to a plague on the society they’d created. She wanted peace restored but was unwilling to pay the price of losing any more of her people. In that sense, this was a gamble with considerable ups
ide; if I killed or maimed the Cyclops, great. If I died, but still managed to wound him, great. If he simply ate me and mine, then at least his appetite would be diminished. The only notable risk lay in Polyphemus seeking retribution for bringing us to his island. But then, what else could he do to them that he hadn’t already?
I opened my mouth to speak but was interrupted by the raucous gurgle of James’ stomach. The young Neverlander blushed and clutched at his gut, mouthing an apology. I smiled, glad for the brief easing of tensions. “Very well,” I said, “I agree to your terms. But first, can we please have some food?”
31
After pigging out on everything but pigs, we headed for the docks, descending a narrow footpath that led along the winding cliffs to the beach below. Had I not known it was there, I’d never have thought to follow it down—or up—assuming the cliffs insurmountable without a contraption of some sort. Such was the design of the Leastrogynians, apparently, who clearly enjoyed their relative isolation from the outside world. Indeed, were it not for Polyphemus’ nightly assaults, I believed they’d have had everything they needed to thrive as a society. With that in mind, as an additional condition, I’d asked Adonia to send some supplies back to the rest of the crew, along with news of what we planned to do. I’d tried to send James back as well, but the Neverlander had refused.
“I’m the Captain,” he’d declared, boldly. “And I won’t let you go alone.”
“Ah, there, see?” Narcissus chimed in while slipping back into the clothes I’d insisted he wear. “Looks like you won’t need my remarkable services after all. I’m sure young James here will do a decent job.”
Sea Breeze: Phantom Queen Book 8 - A Temple Verse Series (The Phantom Queen Diaries) Page 17
