by Laura Wylde
I think Damian understood. He looked as sad as I felt when I prepared for my mad dash for the coast. “Are you ready?” He asked, and I nodded. Yes, Damian understood. He likes fine things as much as I do. He pretends a lot. He pretends that gambling and living recklessly are the only things he likes but his gentleness and his fondness for all that is beautiful shows through in those intense moments of privacy.
I crouched over Astir’s back, urging him to race as he never had before. He shifted into a magnificent black stallion and flew down the mountain toward the coast, his hooves pounding and striking sharply against the rocks. His wild mane whipped against my face. He raced against time, knowing that when Hyperion discovered his sons had been murdered, he would come looking for us. The Titan god would know I was the only one who could do it. He would know with certainty I carried the blood of his grandchildren. My only real hope was that his love for Apollo’s progeny would outweigh his love for his twisted sons.
Hyperion would come to me. The stallion’s hooves raced over the landscape. The wind blew low and fiercely. I licked my dry lips. They tasted like salt. I let the wind whistle into my breathless throat. My heart thudded against my chest wildly.
The water’s edge gleamed in the distance. The mountain faded behind us. We weren’t close enough. I lifted from my saddle like a jockey, urging the steed forward. Astir stretched out his neck, struggling to put more space between his hooves and the ground, straining to pump faster. The back of my neck prickled, and goose bumps crawled over my skin. Hyperion was behind us. I felt him before I saw the greenish-gold mist.
We were still over a thousand yards from shore. I saw Triton beckoning from the shallow surf. He bobbed in the water, his upper body that of a slender young man, gold and salmon-colored scales and fins covering his lower body. He had a beautiful fanned tail, almost translucent, with gold and pink ribbing. Apart from that, he really was a prissy, vain looking creature. He smiled, but beneath the smile, his lip curved in distain for land creatures. “We may have the same father,” whispered Astir into my ear. “But I swear I hate the guy.”
The mist was hovering just above my head. I could hear his voice. It sounded mournful and distant. “Artemis, why do you run from me? You can’t hide from me. Come with me. Join me.” His last words were drawn out, wailing. Just a few hundred feet to go. I bent low over the horse and stretched out my arm. Dangling from my hand was the leather pouch. I swept by the shoreline and tossed it into Triton’s waiting hands.
Hyperion sounded surprised. “What was that? You had my daughters? You gave my daughters to the sea?” At first, I thought he was going to destroy me in a bolt of lightening or smash me to bits. Instead, he showed me a human face. It looked grandfatherly and kind. “Come with me,” he said. “Join me, Artemis. Take your place with the gods.”
“I’m not Artemis!” I shouted.
He chuckled. “So young and foolish. So passionate. Have your adventures, child. I’ll return to you someday.”
He zoomed after Triton, following him far out into the ocean. The prince of the merpeople slid under the water and the glittering mist followed. A lump came to my throat. “Why do I feel so bad?”
Astir lowered his head. “It’s not easy to sacrifice family.”
I didn’t feel like riding directly back. I felt gut-punched and winded, and worse, filled with remorse. Family. I had sacrificed family.
I walked along the shore, Astir plodding beside me. I appreciated his silence. In his horse form, he was an animal companion, a creature that gives comfort. The sun set over the horizon, bringing out a parade of stars. The constellations seemed to move in a faraway drama of love, murder and revenge. “Let’s go back now,” Astir said gently. “To the ranch.” I didn’t argue.
I thought there would be more celebration in the air. We won! The plan had gone perfectly. Instead, it was the dreariest party I had ever seen. Orson was lounging in the swimming pool, Damian was sharpening his blades, and Barnaby was fretting over his computer. “Where’s Heath,” I asked.
“Taking a mud bath,” Barnaby muttered without looking up. “He says his joints hurt.”
“He did get thrown around quite a bit for a big fella. What’s the deal? Why does everyone look so glum? Did the tourists die?”
Barnaby pushed himself away from his desk, leaned back and let out a couple of experimental smoke rings. They were weak and poorly formed. He coughed. “No, the tourists didn’t die. We had our experts give them a quick, patch-up job before the ambulance came, and they erased the memory of the horror. They’ll only vaguely know they were attacked without knowing by what.”
He looked so down, I went up behind him and began massaging his neck. He gave a groan of relieved tension. “Is that better?” I asked, kissing him.
“Sit down, Irene,” he answered. “Please, sit down.”
This sounded serious. I sat, waiting for his monumental words. He sighed and looked down at the table. “I received a notice from AMP. They researched carefully. There isn’t a passageway to Tartarus at Poseidon’s palace. It’s a passage to Olympus. We were tricked.”
I felt more shock than anger. “Why would Triton do that?”
“You’ll have to ask Orson. He knows the overgrown flounder better than I do.”
Orson had turned off most of the lights so that only two weary overhead lamps shone into the swimming pool. He was as fluid as liquid as he floated on his back, his eyes closed. I took off my clothes and climbed into the pool with him. I swam quietly, barely making a ripple I bumped up against him. His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to look at me, his face almost silvery white. “I’m worthless,” he said tonelessly. “I’m completely worthless. I played right into Hyperion’s hands.”
I floated beside him, treading the water as lightly as possible, squirming my legs until they were paddling gently underneath him. He had turned over on his stomach, so that sometimes, my thighs bumped along his and touched the curling hairs turning softer and lighter as they traveled down his legs. “How could you know?”
He wriggled bitterly. “I should have known! I should have! Gods always turn on their fathers!”
I tried to console him. I brushed against him more intentionally and held his head close to mine. “You’re not making any sense, Orson. Just tell me what happened so I can understand.”
He let me hold him briefly. He even pulled me close, but he didn’t put any real juice into his embrace. He wasn’t with me. He was a hundred miles away or on another planet. “Let’s go inside,” I suggested. “We’ll talk about this.”
He nodded, head down. We came out of the pool and I wrapped up in a thick towel. I started to hand one to Orson, but he ignored it, strolling across the patio naked. He seemed to be raining.
Orson
It was the most miserable day of my life. How could I even begin to explain my failure? They had all depended on me and my connection to Triton, fancy-pants son of Poseidon. Poseidon was brother to Zeus, along with Hades. When they overthrew the Titans, they divided the three realms of Earth, giving Zeus dominion over the skies, Poseidon over the seas, while Hades ruled the underworld. Why shouldn’t the heirs of Poseidon be trusted? They had the most beautiful kingdom of all.
They shouldn’t because Triton is a monster. I realize that now. If I had only listened to something more than flattery. If only I had talked to the centaurs and gotten the upshot on what they thought of their cousins, but I was jealous. Like humans, dragons were created from the earth, not these omniscient beings. We are the bridge between the humans and the gods, possessing elemental powers and enough magic to transform. In case you are wondering, we don’t even have as much magic as elves or sorcerers. We’re just more powerful.
I was jealous. Not only were centaurs created by Poseidon, they were the favorite of all his designs. He made them magnificent. They all were built like brick walls, with thrown back chests, broad shoulders, manly faces and a head full of hair. Even in their horse state, they were twice th
e size, twice the power, twice the wild defiance of any horse I had ever seen. I envied them and I was jealous of the way Irene took to them, even though I knew deep inside she admired them the way anyone did who appreciated beauty.
I should have guessed something was up. Triton is always obnoxious. He calls water dragons waterspouts and scoffs at what he considers my limited abilities. He asks if I’ve been romping with sea serpents, knowing full well we are two different species. Sea serpents are another of Poseidon’s creations. He was trying to create his own version of a dragon. They look similar in some ways, but they are enormous and bright colored. They are also vicious barbarians. They like nothing better than to drown ships at sea.
At first, Triton treated me with his usual disdain. When I entered the royal hall, I heard a woman’s voice screech, “By Poseidon, there’s a white crocodile!” Then giggle insanely.
He fluttered over to me, flapping his hands and squeaking nasally, “How is it that I have graced your presence?” I let the insults slide off my scales. I told him about Hyperion’s escape, which only caused him to laugh in watery spurts. “Those humans! I always did say they were too nosy for their own good.”
He shrugged and waved his hand about when I told him about the six brothers, but when I told him about Irene, the look changed. His smirk disappeared. “You’re sure he called her Artemis?”
I nodded. “And he wouldn’t hurt her. He saved her life.”
He glanced narrowly at his assembled crowd, brainless goldfish dressed in silk dancing with even more brainless, plastic-faced mermaids, codfish pretending to be important. There’s not a lot of difference between what is above and what is below.
Frowning, he beckoned me into his private states room. He motioned to a chair – a high-backed, leather cushioned one, worthy of royalty – and poured me a glass of ambrosia.
That’s right. The drink of the gods. It had a smooth, honey-flavored taste. The first sip filled me with a sense of enormous well-being. With the second, I felt elated. I loosened up. I talked and joked with Triton gregariously. I told him everything – the viper, the wasps, the dead professor. He questioned me closely about the bronze wall. “Yes, yes, it’s only partway open,” he mused. “There is a different combination for each god. They can’t all come tumbling out at once without breaking down the door and the door can’t be broken. It was sealed by Zeus.
He poured me another glass of ambrosia and settled back in his giant throne. He tapped at the arm of the chair thoughtfully. “The cave’s discovery was no accident. Somebody set things up so you would find it. Probably Perses. He always was fond of chaos and destruction.”
He asked me again about Irene. I was sure. “When he was murdering the doctor, he threw Irene across the cave. Then he apologized to her for it. I don’t think he wants to hurt her.”
He leaned forward, his tail flapping behind him for balance. “He doesn’t! He can sense her god blood. He won’t hurt the children of Apollo. The twins were his favorite grandchildren.”
We chatted a little longer to be sociable. Just as I was leaving, however, he added, “You don’t want to be with her when she calls out the four sisters. You don’t want to look.”
“Why not?” I asked, puzzled.
“They are muses.”
It was the one thing I could not bear to tell the others. Nobody wants to send a muse to an unknown fate. Nobody wants to be that callous. I almost hoped she wouldn’t have god-blood, but she did. Four percent wasn’t enough to whip up a little magic, but it was enough to make her highly gifted – and to wield Apollo’s bow.
I followed Triton’s instructions to the letter. That’s where I made my mistake. I should have told Barnaby the entire plan from the beginning. I should have suspected there was a reason why Triton did not want us calling AMP. If I had, none of this would have happened. He did us one good turn. If not for Triton, the brothers would have still been out there murdering, and we would not know a single way of stopping them. But he did it to help Hyperion escape.
The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. The more bothered I became the more determined I was to exact some type of revenge on Triton. I waited until the others were sleeping, arms and legs tangled in a circle around Irene’s naked body. It was hard to leave them. Their faces were so smooth in slumber. They looked like an engraving carved into marble by an ancient stonemason’s hand. I caressed each one so softy; I was no more than a breeze passing over their faces.
As usual, the water current to the royal palace was filled with merpeople, human-sized seahorses with bridles and riders, ill-tempered sea serpents, bitchy sirens and schools of water nymphs. Water nymphs are the most annoying. They will cling onto anything that’s male. I had two trying to hump my tail and one squiggling up my belly by the time I reached the palace steps. Fortunately, nymphs are only allowed inside for special parties – usually orgies or live stage performances. They pouted at the door with frustration as I slipped through.
Everything felt wrong. The palace halls were only half-filled. The servants were slacking. Things were out of place, moved, and not returned. The serpents that usually guarded Triton’s door only cackled and slithered away when I approached.
I burst into the room. A female water dragon was tinkling a song on a cascade of different colored crystals hanging from the ceiling. “Where is Triton?” I demanded.
The music continued to tinkle, as she clinked the crystals together. “Are you always this rude? Do they teach no manners at all to the grounders?”
She was slightly smaller than I was, with lavender scales. She slid around me - her skin as smooth as ivory. I grabbed her wrists. “Who are you?”
“Let go, you barbarian!” She winced and her scales turned bright blue. “Triton said you were a beast.” I let her go. She glided to the throne chair and sat down. “I’m Princess Tabitha. The House of Dragons control this palace now.”
“What happened to Triton?”
“He went to Olympus with Hyperion. They are going to kill Zeus, then Poseidon.”
I almost laughed, it sounded so preposterous. “Triton is going to kill his father?”
She yawned. “It won’t be the first time it happened. They don’t have the loyalty of dragons.”
It shouldn’t have bothered me, I suppose. It was just that you get used to a certain order of things. When gods start toppling gods, you don’t know what will happen next. “Can they do that? Murder Zeus and Poseidon?”
She was fiddling around with some gold objects on the table, arranging and rearranging them. “Maybe. Most likely, it will cause a war. Not everyone is sympathetic with Zeus. He did rape Hyperion’s daughter and he did cast Hyperion and his brothers into Tartarus.”
She opened a drawer and set two goblets on the table. “It’s not ambrosia. It’s just a little wine we stole from a vineyard. You like wine, don’t you?”
I do, but I looked at it suspiciously. Female dragons can be dangerous, especially royal ones. They trap male dragons through seduction and turn them into slaves. She gave a throaty laugh. “No magic, either. I know my reputation, but no. You’re a gorgeous hunk but I can see you are taken.” She sipped at her cup. “It must have been terrible for him in that cold, dark place for all those centuries.”
I took an experimental sip, rolling it on my tongue. No tricks. It was a familiar Greek red wine. “You’re sympathetic.”
She shrugged. “Hyperion has his good side. Gaia’s his sister.”
“That makes him good? He sacrificed his sons!”
“Those monstrosities?” She chuckled and upturned her glass. “You did him a favor. He knew that sons like that would turn on him eventually. He only used them to attract the higher powers.”
“You mean Triton.”
“Eh, he would have preferred Poseidon, but he wasn’t around. Our king spends entirely too much time globe hopping these days. If he had stayed here instead of running off to visit Aquarius, none of this would have happened.”
&nbs
p; She wasn’t such a bad sort after all. I didn’t know what she was going to do about the wrecking party brawling drunkenly through the royal court, but I wished her luck. Somebody needed to take charge before the entire water world turned into tuna salad. I finished my drink and set the glass on the table. I had one more question. “What about the four sisters. Do you still have them?”
She reached inside the pouch lining on her stomach and pulled out the leather bag. “I do. Give them to Irene. They were meant to be gifts for humans. When the battle begins, she will need them. They are Compassion, Charity, Intuition and Integrity.”
Damn. She really was a lady. I should get to know my cousins better. I felt humbled. “Thank you, princess,” I mumbled.” I was ashamed of my earlier behavior. “I’m indebted to you.”
She nodded agreeably. “You are. One day I might call on you to repay it. Until then, Orson… when the gods come, don’t take sides. Leave it in Irene’s hands. She is kin to Apollo.”
I etched her words into my heart. When I got back, that was all I would do, let Irene’s words guide me. I loved her. Every molecule in my being loved her. I was a bumbling dragon and she was a shining star in the sky.
The nymphs started after me again as soon as I stepped out the gates, but this time, a dozen seahorses accompanied me. “We’re in the princess’ service,” one explained cheerfully. “I like her so much better than Triton. Imagine one of those fish bellies bouncing around on your back all day.”
Good to know. The palace was in disarray, but the subjects were happy. Maybe, they would get around to straightening things up after celebrating. Good to know because if the god wars came, we would have allies. That is, if they didn’t destroy each other first.
