by Anne Ursu
Jason flung open the door to reveal the old man in the aqua suit. Charlotte gasped. She’d completely forgotten about him. And now he was on Poseidon’s yacht.
She stared at Jason, dumbfounded. Meanwhile, the man in the aqua suit was staring at Charlotte.
“What’s she doing here?” he said, his voice like crackling leaves. He turned to Jason, eyes flashing. “Jason? What did you do?” Another bang hit the ship, and everyone flinched. “What’s going on? Did you do this?” He held up his hands to indicate the chaos.
“That’s right, Dad!” Jason snarled. “I did!”
“You did?” Charlotte exclaimed. Then, “That’s your dad?” There were so many things to be confused by, she didn’t know where to begin.
“Go ahead,” Jason said, voice full of excitement, turning to Charlotte. “Do it.”
Charlotte blinked, mouth hanging open. “Do what?”
Jason motioned to the trident. “Blast him!”
“What?” cried Charlotte.
“What?” cried the old man.
“Blast him! Come on, you can turn him into whatever you want! How about a frog?”
“No!” Charlotte shouted, unable to believe her ears. “Come on, we have to go!”
“Aw, it’ll be fine,” Jason said dismissively. “Come on, do it!”
“Jason!” said the old man.
“I’m not going to blast your dad!” said Charlotte.
“Thanks, Charlotte!” whispered the old man chummily. Charlotte stared at him. Why was he talking like he knew her?
“Why not?” Jason said. “He’s evil!”
Charlotte whipped her head back to him. This was getting really tiring. “Because!” she exclaimed, stumbling to the right as another crash shook the yacht.
“Well, then, give it to me and I’ll do it!” Jason reached for the trident.
“But,” Charlotte protested, gripping her prize close to her body, “you said…you can’t handle the trident. You have Immortal blood. You said there was a spell on it and it would fry you….”
“Oh,” he said with a shrug, “I made that up.”
“What?”
“Well, I wanted to get back at my dad, and the trident’s the only thing that has power over him, and—”
“Jason,” interrupted his father, folding his arms, “you’re grounded.”
Jason ignored him. “I couldn’t get Poseidon’s trident myself! I’m not crazy. He’d kill me! But then I thought you might do it! I mean, you took on Philonecron and Hades….”
“What?” But Charlotte didn’t need any further explanation. Jason Hart didn’t care at all about her or her parents or all the people on the cruise ship. He hadn’t gone to the Isis Queen to save her or to save the ship. He’d gone just to trick her into getting Poseidon’s trident so he could get revenge on his dad.
“And you did! You’re so brave and strong! I wish I could be like you. So now you can blast my dad—”
“Jason!” exclaimed his father again.
“—and then everything’s cool. I mean,” he said, his voice softening, “I like you, I really do. I really thought we had something. You’re the only one who understands me. And just as soon as you turn my dad into a frog or a snail or whatever you want—really, you choose!—we can go, you know, make out!”
“Son!” his father repeated firmly.
“See, Dad!” Jason snapped. “I’ve finally taken responsibility. You wanted me to do something with myself. Aren’t you proud of me?”
His father ignored him. “Now, young lady, give that to me…. Poseidon’s going to be very angry.” He glanced around, as if worried that Poseidon might, in fact, be angry at him. “Really,” he said to Charlotte conspiratorially, “I told you to just get over it. It was for your own good.”
“What?” Charlotte asked, bewildered.
“See!” Jason said. “He’s evil! You don’t know what he did!”
Charlotte glared at Jason. “You really are one of them,” she spat. A light fixture fell down right next to her and she jumped.
“Don’t say that!” he breathed. “Aw, Lottie, come on, we can save the ship after.” He checked his watch. “Probably.”
“Don’t call me Lottie! My dad calls me that!” And, temper flaring, Charlotte lifted up the trident and pointed it at Jason.
“Charlotte!” exclaimed Jason, eyes widening in fear. He took a few steps backward into the room with his father.
“How do you like it, boy,” snarled the old man. “See what you’ve done? I tried to give you a chance to make something of yourself, impress Poseidon.”
“See what I’ve done?” Jason said, rounding on his father. “What about what you’ve done, huh? You ruined my life, Dad!”
“Now, now,” said his father. “I’m just trying to help you understand yourself better. See your true potential! Embrace your heritage! It’s a gift, son, a gift!”
“You’re nothing. Just because you’re a shape-shifter doesn’t mean you’re great. You’re evil, Dad. You’re evil, and I hate you. And I’m finally going to do something about it!” He turned to look at Charlotte, who was standing in the hallway, looking back and forth from one to the other in disbelief. “Come on, Charlotte, do it!”
Charlotte screamed in frustration and aimed the trident more pointedly at Jason, then another attack from Sir Laurence sent a tremendous rumble through the wall. From off in the distance, Charlotte heard water rushing.
She lowered the trident. What was she doing? Was she going to turn into Poseidon and start destroying everyone who ticked her off? Just because you can turn someone into a piece of sea scum—just because you might want to very, very much, and just because they absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent deserve it—does not mean you should. Plus, there was no time; she’d dallied here long enough. So with another scream of frustration, she kicked the door closed and sealed it shut with the trident, leaving Jason and his father to sort out their evil differences for their evil selves in their evil room until some other evil person could find an evil way to get them out again. Then she took off down the hallway again toward the staircase.
Later she would think about Jason Hart and his foul betrayal; now getting to the ship was what mattered. Jason had lied, but there might have been some truth to his lie. The trident should work on the Siren; Poseidon clearly used it to control the sea creatures. Maybe it wasn’t really the only way to get the Siren to stop, like Jason had said; maybe Charlotte could have, you know, asked nicely, but it didn’t matter now. She had it and she was going to use it.
Charlotte ran into the stairwell and headed down the stairs, avoiding the broken glass and rubble in her path—just one hallway left, she thought to herself, then the deck, then the lifeboat, then back to the ship, you can do this, Charlotte, you can do this—then ducked out into the main hallway—
—where she found herself face to face with Philonecron.
Charlotte gasped and stopped short. Philonecron’s eyes narrowed and he began to clap his hands together slowly in sarcastic applause. “Bravo, my dear girl,” he sneered. “Bravo. You arranged for all this, I assume?” He held his hands out as the walls shook again. “Well,” he sighed heavily, “I see I am going to have to kill you myself. Ah, well, as they say, if you want something done right—”
As he came toward her, Charlotte crouched down and aimed the trident at him. “Just try it,” she hissed. At the sight of the trident, something passed over Philonecron’s face.
“And where,” he asked slowly, “pray tell, did you get that?”
Charlotte just stood there, arms trembling slightly, keeping the trident fixed on Philonecron, struggling to keep her balance while the ship rocked around her.
“Well,” he exhaled, “I see I underestimated you, my little nemesis.” As he spoke his eyes lingered on the trident. “You are quite something, indeed. Really, quite impressive! Indeed, you are a worthy adversary. But”—he smiled sweetly—“what you have in your brave little hands is not for
little girls. Why don’t you hand that over to me?”
Charlotte gulped. “Why don’t I just blast you, instead,” she said through gritted teeth. Yes, why didn’t she? Every muscle was poised to do it, but she was rooted to the spot like one of Poseidon’s ridiculous statues.
“Ah,” said Philonecron with a grin. “Yes, why don’t you? Hmmm.” He put his hand on his chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Oh, I know! Because I have something you want.”
Charlotte blinked. He did?
“Well, perhaps we can work something out.” He turned and called over to the wall. “Zero! Come here!”
Charlotte didn’t even have time to react to the unexpected words that came out of Philonecron’s mouth before a door opened in the wall and a boy walked out, a boy who did not seem at all concerned by the ship’s impending destruction, a boy who did not seem concerned by anything, really, because he did not seem quite conscious, except for the whole walking thing. But what he did seem was familiar, very familiar, in fact—
Zee?
Charlotte stumbled backward and nearly dropped the trident on the ground. Philonecron was too busy presenting his prize to notice. “Come here, Zero,” he said silkily. “Look who’s come to see you! Your nasty, ill-bred vermin of a cousin! Isn’t that precious?”
Charlotte stared at the sight before her, tears stinging her eyes. “Zee?” she said, in almost a whisper. Was it a trick? It had to be a trick. Zee was at home, dating Ashleys and “getting over it” and being a complete and total goon. It was a trick designed to stop her from leaving the yacht. Next Zee would ask for the trident, and she would give it to him because he was Zee and she would do anything for him and then he would turn into Poseidon. Gods did that. Some of the Olympians could take other forms. And then there was Proteus, the old man of the sea, he was a shape-shifter—and Jason’s dad was a shape-shifter, and he had been hanging around Charlotte and Zee….
A very, very cold feeling passed through Charlotte and she nearly dropped the trident. Suddenly everything was clear to her. Jason, the old man in the aqua suit, Lulu Zee, everything. “Pr—Proteus?” she squeaked.
“Ah, yes,” said Philonecron. “I couldn’t have you notice your cousin’s absence, could I? So, how did he do? Proteus, I mean. I worried he might be a little too…enthusiastic. Our Zero is quite temperate. Did you notice anything? Well, obviously you did. You’re here, aren’t you. Aren’t you clever?”
Charlotte was shaking so badly she could barely keep hold of the trident. Vomit rose up from her stomach and black swam before her eyes. No. She hadn’t noticed anything. She was not clever at all. They’d replaced Zee with Proteus, and she’d thought it was still her cousin.
“Now,” said Philonecron, “you came all this way—”
Just then a big plaster starfish fell from the ceiling, scattering Philonecron with dust. “ARGH!” he gargled, brushing off his shoulders dramatically. He turned on Charlotte, snarling. “You little—” But then he stopped himself and took a deep and dramatic breath. “Excuse me,” he said, smiling sweetly. “As I was saying, you came all this way to get your cousin back, and perhaps we can work out a deal.”
“I came to save the cruise ship,” Charlotte said dully, staring at Zee. Was he all right? Zee?
“Really?” Philonecron stared at her in disbelief. “You did?” He clapped his hands together as a smile crept across his face. “You mean you risked certain death coming aboard Poseidon’s yacht to save a ship full of mortals?” He shook his head in wonderment. “That is adorable. Really. Moronic, but adorable. I take it that means you didn’t know about Zero being here? Goodness me. Well, now that you do…Here’s what I suggest.” He leaned in and looked at her intensely, eyes like flames. “You give me that little prize of yours, and I’ll give you your cousin.”
“Right,” Charlotte muttered.
Philonecron looked wounded. “Upon my honor!” he said, putting his palm to his chest. “Don’t misunderstand me! I certainly would like to keep him. We’ve become so close, and he’s such a wonderful protégé! I was even going to get him a cape of his own. But…sometimes we must make sacrifices for”—his eyes flickered—“things we want.”
Uh-huh.
“Zee!” she yelled. “Wake up! Zee!” Quickly, she jerked the trident over so it pointed at him. A stream of light shot out of it. “Wake up!”
Had it worked? Charlotte stared at Zee, watching for some sign of change. Had his shoulders straightened? Had something passed through his eyes?
“Oh, my dear girl,” Philonecron said, rolling slowly toward her, eyes sparkling. “You’ll have to do better than that. He’s under my control, you see. Just a little spell I worked out, very clever, if I do say so myself. Of course”—he shrugged modestly—“what do you expect?”
Charlotte wrenched the trident back toward Philonecron. “Let him go—”
Just then one of the Poseidon-head lamps came crashing down from the ceiling right behind Philonecron and Zee. It hit the floor with a tremendous crash, sending glass shooting everywhere. Philonecron ducked, and Charlotte flung one hand over her face protectively, while some shards of glass hit Zee in the back and he flinched.
And then, as Charlotte straightened, she saw Zee do something he hadn’t done since he emerged—he blinked.
Zee?
A jolt of electricity shot through Charlotte, and the fog of inaction lifted. She aimed the trident squarely at Philonecron and thought something vague, something very like Jason’s words—blast him!—and blue light shot out of the trident and hit Philonecron. Propelled by the stream of light, he went shooting back, wheelchair and all, all the way down the long hallway, blasting right through the glass doors at the end of the hall, over the deck, through the air, and far into the night. Then, with a splash too far away for Charlotte to hear, he dropped into the dark waters of the sea.
Charlotte sucked in a gasp of breath and waited one second, two, five, ten, unable to move for fear she’d be letting down her guard, unable to do anything but look from her zombie cousin to the gaping hole at the end of the hall.
But all was quiet. A great shudder went through Charlotte, and she was conscious again of how much everything hurt, from her scalp all the way to her toenails, but there was no time for that, there was no time for anything.
“Zee,” she exclaimed, running over to her cousin, dodging shards of glass. “Are you all right? Zee? Are you in there?” She put her hands on his arms and gazed up into his dark eyes. Was there anything there? A lump rose in Charlotte’s throat; she had not realized how much she missed him, how much she needed him by her side. They were supposed to fight together, that’s how it worked. Charlotte and Zee, taking on the gods. She’d put all her faith in Jason Hart, the liar, the sneak, when all along what she really needed was her cousin.
“Zee?” she whispered pleadingly.
Then, Zee blinked again, and she saw something pass through his eyes. Was it recognition? She didn’t know, but it was life, she could tell that much. There was life in his eyes.
Rage filled her, and she thought again of Jason Hart and Proteus trapped in the room on the yacht. All she wanted to do was run back and show them what happened when they messed with her cousin. But she was not Poseidon, who could have killed her a thousand times already if he hadn’t tried to make a show of it. She could not let her anger get in the way of what she had to do. There was no time.
“Zee, we have to go,” she said. “I’m so sorry. But we have to go. It’s important. Can you come with me?”
He blinked again, and again some light seemed to pass through his eyes. But he did not move.
With a groan, Charlotte took a great step back. “I’m sorry, Zee,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, I don’t have a choice.” And, tears running down her cheeks, she leveled the trident at him and ordered, “Come with me.”
CHAPTER 26
Ketos vs. Squid
CHARLOTTE TOOK ZEE’S HAND AND LED HIM through the long hallway. He ran behind her with plodding
steps, ran like someone with no intelligence, no will. If she pulled too hard, he’d topple over. Charlotte’s heart was breaking as she pulled him along, but pull him along she did.
They emerged through the doors and, trident poised, Charlotte stopped to scan the deck for some sign of Philonecron. The deck was a disaster. The large aquarium was completely shattered, with only the bottom remaining, as if something very large had swept the fish—and most of the aquarium with them—back into the sea where they belonged. Most of the lounge chairs were gone, though some smashed remnants littered the deck, and one undamaged chair had lodged in the Jacuzzi as if it wanted one last hot tub before the sea monster brought it to its maker.
Charlotte ran across the deck, trident held high, leading her zombie cousin. She climbed over the deck wall, and Zee followed her like the automaton he was. As they climbed down the ladder, a tremendous tentacle swung over their heads with a low whoosh. Sir Laurence was still going strong. Gratitude surged through Charlotte. She would repay her debt to him later, once the Isis Queen was freed. They had a deal.
But that gratitude lessened slightly when she reached the bottom of the ladder and found her lifeboat had been smashed. A chunk of yacht had most inconsiderately fallen right on top of her getaway vehicle. She grunted. Really, there were four boats lashed to the ship—it couldn’t have fallen on an evil one?
Well, no matter. What good is a trident of extraordinary power if you can’t use it to hot wire a minor sea god’s speedboat? Jaw clenched with determination, Charlotte climbed down into a shiny, sleek boat and unlashed it. Then, after waiting for Zee to mindlessly follow, she tapped the trident on the ignition and felt the engine roar to life. She pulled the throttle into reverse, and as the boat shot backward away from the Poseidon, she slammed the throttle forward and they were off.
As the night air whipped against her face, Charlotte cast a glance over to her cousin. He was sitting dutifully in the passenger seat of the small boat. “Zee?” she yelled over the roar of the engine. “Zee, can you hear me? Zee, are you okay?”
