Daughter of the Sea

by Mira Zamin

  * * *

  Calista jumped at the unexpected sight of Melba in front of the throne room door. A silver-green stola draped over the nymph’s arm.

  “You are asked to attend a dinner with Neptune in two hours,” she said.

  Calista irritably quelled her tired yawn but nodded, all the while longing for the softness of her bed in Portus Tarrus. Perhaps gods and nymphs do not tire, but I am human enough to want sleep!

  Once more, they passed the glass atrium and the mosaics, but this time they exited through the gate which opened onto the sandy streets of Atlantis. Calista gaped at the gleaming dignity of the tall obsidian and marble buildings. Although the ocean light tinted everything dull blue, it did not dim the the majesty of the city—Altlantis made Rome look like a poor, upstart village. Everywhere, arches flowed, columns laced through the air, each carved with more delicate curlicues and foliage than the last. The style of the architecture, at least, reminded her of home. Statues of unknown figures bubbled with rivulets at each crossroads. While the faces and features of passersby differed, they presented a singularly united front of golden locks and blue eyes.

  Calista touched her own hair self-consciously. The people of Knossos could not have been so fair…It is as if years of living underwater have bleached them of color. She shivered.

  Wrapping her fingers around Calista’s hand as if she were a child, Melba quickly led her back to the dressing room, allowing Calista little time to gape at Atlantis. She felt overwhelmed by this new world, which in so many ways resembled her own and yet could not have been further away. She tried to snatch her hand away from Melba, but the nymph gripped her hand all the more tightly with a knowing squeeze.

  Entering the chamber where she had dressed, Calista felt relieved. This was familiar territory in a strange, rushing world. Melba finally released her hand and Calista flexed her fingers tentatively, trying to coax sensation back.

  “Consider tonight’s dinner your formal début in Atlantis. Be aware of yourself.” Melba’s eyes scrutinized her, as if seeing the hoyden that lurked inside Calista.

  Calista decided she had held her tongue long enough; the hoyden that Melba was so expecting was bucking to shock. “Would it be such a grievance if I were allowed a night’s rest?” she said coldly. So perhaps the hoyden had frozen her heat to a more acceptable temperature but that did not dull her words’ sharpness. “Or does partial divinity not grant you what the meanest slave in the Empire has by right?”

  Melba’s eyes glinted, their blue icy, but her voice was disconcertingly warm. “I understand completely.”

  Despite Melba’s apparent understanding, she still oversaw Calista’s toilette at the hands of fair-haired, light-eyed attendants. Calista was dressed in the grey-green stola and her hair was piled high and held by delicate silver chains. Once Calista had been attired to satisfaction, Melba departed. Despite the careful grooming, she could feel the telltale softness beneath her eyes which indicated dark crescents.

  Stifling a yawn, she drowsily shuffled behind one of the attendants (a slave?). Approaching the familiar doors, the woman bowed slightly and departed. And Calista was left to face the open doors alone. As she entered, every eye fell upon her. Whether they were merely curious or were judging her tardiness, she did not know. A whoosh of tingling anxiety was compounded by a melting of sleepiness that spread from her eyes to her feet.

  Determinedly, she fixed her eyes on the chair indicated for her by a manservant at the high table. At that high table sat Neptune, Evadne, Melba, and Claudius. Nervously, she took her seat beside Claudius, but fastidiously lowered her gaze as conversation buzzed in the room once again.

  Atlantians did not dine on couches but rather on miniature thrones, each identically ornate. She smiled weakly when she met Evadne’s eyes but sank back into a sleepy haze, tracing the woodwork. The high-ceilinged chamber, with its lanterns strung with crystals, warmed with the scent of food. A stab of hunger reminded Calista that the last meal she had eaten had comprised of porridge another world ago. The plate of hot seafood, the bright pinks of the shrimp, the creamy flesh of the mussel, the white and rose of fish sent her mouth watering. The first bite of lampreys melted in her mouth and she sighed in delight.

  The room hushed quickly when Neptune drew the attention of the feasters. “Atlantis! It has been near sixteen years since I have set eyes upon my son and my daughter. As the prophecy prescribed, they were ascended to live Above, and now have been returned to us safely. To my son.” He raised a glass to Claudius. “And my daughter.” He nodded to Calista whose cheeks were swollen with food. “Welcome.”

  Atlantis murmured with him, even as they sharply observed the pair. But it was not the Atlantians’ gaze Calista dreaded.

  Claudius gave Calista a shocked look she fancied she could read only all too well. Children? His? Brother and sister, that makes us. Alarm etched into his face.

  Calista could only sleepily nod. There was something dreadful about the words touching the air, becoming common knowledge, as if it made the situation more real. Yet, none knew what had nearly passed between them and if Calista had her way, none would.

  Claudius had his own intentions.

  “By Venus, Calista, I wanted you.” he exclaimed once Neptune had seated himself again.

  Calista was thankful that the chatter continued around them, oblivious to the drama unfolding between the newfound siblings.

  There was no need to say that! If you had not said anything, we could have ignored it and pretended as if nothing had ever existed between us!

  Aloud, she said, “We did not know Claudius. We did not. Our actions remained pure. Moreover, if one were to examine descent and then the associated precedent, it would seem that incest— ” She paled at the word. “—is not such a sin for we are not mortals but gods.” Calista’s lips trembled as she tried to approximate the legal language Cicero. To calm herself, she downed a goblet of wine. She was unaccustomed to it; her father had not considered it ladylike for a woman to drink wine. Her vision blurred pleasantly. “Not that I suggest any such course. Whatever we may be, I bind myself to mortal morals. I would be glad to love you as a brother and I think I may always have.” Calista tried to will herself to believe it as well. The alternative was too grotesque.

  Claudius said nothing, but emptied a succession of wine chalices as quickly as they were filled. After the second course was brought to the table, he slurred, “Let us leave to talk.”

  Startled by the suggestion, she protested, “The dinner has just started. They shall notice and wonder.” Suddenly, she was wide awake and scrutinizing Claudius. What she found unsteadied her and she hastily busied herself in extricating a mussel from its shell.

  Calista could hear the wine gush down Claudius’ throat. “No one will notice; they are all drunk. Calista…” He tipped precariously close to her, his eyes unfocused. Calista squirmed uncomfortably. She smelled the fruity, fermented scent of the wine on his breath as he opened his mouth to speak, but his head tumbled into her lap and she could feel his muffled chuckle vibrate up her thigh.

  “Claudius!” Calista shrieked, drawing the attention of the whole hall. “Are you all right?” Her thighs felt awkward supporting his weight and she moved her chair back until his chin rested precariously on her knees.

  And there, in the silence, Claudius announced, “Caly, I love you,” and then promptly sunk below the table. The chalice dropped from his fingers and fell to the floor with a ring.

  Calista stared wordlessly at the prone form in the puddle of wine at her feet. She could not believe that he really loved her. She refused to believe it. He was drunk and confused from this sudden change in their lives. They had gone into the ocean mortals and awoken gods. It was enough to send anyone reeling into madness.

  “Now, there is a man who can keep his head around liquor,” jeered someone from down the table.

  Calista glared at the dark-haired and grey-eyed young man who had made the comment. He stared back boldly
. His darkness was surprising, considering the fair coloring of the other Atlantians and she was surprised she had not noticed him before. He raised a single eyebrow at her lengthy appraisal and she hastily shifted her gaze to Neptune.

  “What does your brother mean, Calista?” Neptune asked, his ocean-colored eyes emotionless.

  Carefully, Calista considered her response. “I cannot answer for him, but I think there was a brief time I fancied myself in love with him. That is no longer so. For me.” It was a brief time that had been not so long ago at all, but the world may as well have shifted to circle the moon.

  “Would you consider a marriage to your half-brother?” There was no question about it: the prospect pleased Neptune.

  She was surprised by the swift turn of events, but her voice held steady as she announced for the entire hall to hear, “Never. Such a thing would be anathema to the instincts instilled in me since childhood. Whoever my parents by blood, I am human.” The last three words resounded loudly through the hall and even Claudius twitched at her feet.

  Evadne laid a graceful hand on Neptune’s brown arm. “Should this not be discussed privately? Perhaps when the most esteemed Melba’s son is coherent.” Evadne shot Melba venomous look, which astounded Calista. She had not detected any ill-will before.

  “Why do you look at me Evadne?” snapped Melba, not warm now. “Your daughter is the one…” She trailed off as Neptune firmly squeezed her shoulder with a large brown hand.

  The brawny tyrant of the seas heaved a sigh, ocean winds blowing against cliffs. “We shall speak in private. At this very moment. Hadrian, for your remark, you shall carry Claudius to the room. Carry, sir, not drag.”

  The grey-eyed man, Hadrian, was preparing visibly to protest yet when he saw the gleam in Neptune’s eyes, he kept his peace.

  Calista felt embarrassed at the whole situation. That so much of Atlantis bore witness to this most sordid of family dramas on her very first night in this fantasy land was enough and then to have this Hadrian follow them…Those thoughts were immediately crushed under the apprehension of what would happen next. Casting glances over her shoulder to the man who carried her link to the Empire and erstwhile beloved, she trailed behind Evadne, Neptune, and Melba. Anxiously, she scrunched the grey-green silk of her stola between her fingers. The halls they traversed were vaulted high with the floor flecked by black and white stones, smoothed over by millions of footsteps. They were ominously quiet as the group walked into a small library whose dark shelves stored neat piles of scrolls. I wonder how they survive in the damp. At any other time, Calista’s fingers would have longed to touch the delicate papyrus.

  “Hadrian, lay Claudius on the sofa,” Neptune said. Calista thought it was so strange that this god, this ruler of the seas, brother of Jupiter, should be standing before them giving such petty commands. It was like seeing an emperor sweep a floor or an empress milk a cow.

  The man obeyed Neptune, dumping Claudius unceremoniously rich crimson upholstery. The whole room, tiny as it was, was nothing like the more reserved style she had seen in Atlantis. With silk and gold thrown about as if they were wool and tin, the room was opulent in an eye-wrenching way. Still, the presence of the mutely hued scrolls vastly improved upon the gaudiness. Hadrian was gone from the room, but Calista would have wagered Pyp’s pendant that he was close by, listening. He seemed just like that type of base fellow.

  Nervously, Calista looked up at Evadne, Neptune, and Melba. Evadne looked faintly amused and entirely unconcerned while Neptune seemed eager. However, Melba stared at Calista as though she were some vile worm that had crawled beneath her sandal. Calista squirmed; the feeling echoed in herself.

  Neptune lowered himself on a grandly appointed seat and indicated for Melba and Evadne to sit flanking him. Ignoring the other empty sofas, Calista perched on the couch beside the sprawling Claudius. She maintained a delicate distance between them. She wanted to yield into the soft warmness of the cushions, close her eyes, and dream herself away from this madness.

  His toga shimmering in the unsteady lamp light, Neptune asked, “Now, explain from the beginning how this ‘love’ came about.”

  Maybe if I hurry, they will allow me sleep. Taking in that heartening thought, Calista explained promptly, “When I met Claudius, I felt something, a connection, a spark. It was as if we had walked together in some life past. I understand now that it was the recognition of blood, not of souls. I am sure once he comes to himself, he will see the situation as I do.” Fervently, she prayed that it would be so and then nearly chuckled. Here was a divinity before her and far from being occupied by supplications, he was proving himself to be more concerned with matters ultimately unimportant. I suppose proximity proves gods more human than is comforting. No wonder they hold themselves aloof.

  She continued, “He was a good friend when I needed one and for that, I will always be in his debt.”

  Quirking a grey eyebrow, Neptune said seriously, “I would not find a marriage between you two displeasing. You speak of a connection and he comes from your world. It would be solid match.

  Calista bit down on a grimace. “Again, as I said, I have lived too long holding incest as deplorable to change my mind now.” She would have thought that now she was of a divine lineage, she would no longer be hassled to wed. Were not their stories filled with goddesses who sought love on their own, not matched to their husbands by overbearing fathers? Calista sighed. It seemed her lot that she would always be running from marriage arranged by a father. Father! Her heart twisted at the thought.

  “Calista.”

  She started as Claudius blearily rose beside her. Clumsily, he leaned on the arm of the sofa.

  “Ah, Claudius!” roared Neptune jovially.

  Claudius flinched at the loudness of Neptune’s exclamation.

  “What would you think of a marriage to Calista?” Neptune’s forehead wrinkled expectantly while Evadne and Melba exchanged a long, unreadable look.

  Claudius replied thickly, “There was a time that nothing would have pleased me more, when Cupid’s arrow had struck me and I was glad for it, but with what we have learned—” It was now Claudius’ and Calista’s turn to trade glances. “—a marriage is no longer viable.”

  Flashing into temper suddenly, Neptune growled, “Why are the pair of you so dense? You are not humans. You are gods. What mortals cannot do, we can. You do not become a pervert for changing your beliefs. You adapt to what has been revealed to you.” His eyes, now wine dark, dared them to argue.

  While Claudius looked pensive, Calista groaned. Did empathy flutter past this god, leaving no trace of itself upon him?

  Perhaps recognizing blood herself, Evadne admonished Neptune in that gently mellifluous voice of hers. “The children have just arrived to Atlantis. Let them first accept this location and their descent before we begin to shift their ideas. From mortal to immortal is change enough.”

  Melba nodded heartily in agreement, which appeared to astound even her. “Before you begin to marry them off, let them rest from their journey! It is inhuman—and do not give me that rubbish about them not being human—to launch them into this life without rest.”

  Calista could have kissed Melba.

  “Very well,” Neptune said, but he watched sharply with suspicious unhappiness as Melba and Evadne approached their children. It astounded Calista just how deftly the pair of them had handled this god. Surely there was more here than met the eye?

  “Come dear. Let us go home,” Evadne said, reaching out a soft hand to help Calista from the sofa.

  Images of Portus Tarrus, Lucretius, Olympia, and Pyp flashed through her mind.

  “To meet your sister.”

  Oh dear gods, no. Not more family. But she smiled politely as if nothing could please her more.

  Calista walked through Atlantis in a sleepy haze, only vaguely registering the grand buildings and wide avenues. Evadne’s undersea villa was a palatial structure replete with marble and gilt, but Calista could only sleepi
ly discern its great size. A younger girl dashed out, her long golden hair streaming behind her. As she neared, Calista gauged her age to be perhaps fourteen. And even at this age, which Calista had spent awkwardly, the girl was unearthly beautiful.

  “Mama! Everyone is talking about dinner!” She halted before Evadne and Calista, her eyes appraising her newfound sister.

  “Calista, I would like for you to meet your sister, Philyra,” Evadne said.

  Stepping forward, her body feeling cumbersome with sleepiness, Calista felt a wave of nervousness sweep over her. Calista had never been a shy person but there was something about this girl that made her want to compete. You may be beautiful but can you quote Livy? she surprised herself by thinking. Guiltily, she fell into the hug the girl offered.

  “Oh, she is tired,” Philyra observed sympathetically. “We must get her to bed.” The girl fluttered over her sister like a willowy indigo butterfly.

  Calista tried to draw herself taller but barely reached Philyra’s ear. “It has been a long day,” she assented, trying to keep the accusation from her voice. After all, there was nothing Evadne could have done to shorten it—unless she had spoken up sooner but that was neither here nor there.

  Both Evadne and Philyra guided her to the room and although Calista would have tumbled into the invitingly soft bed right then, Evadne insisted on undressing her. Philyra handed her a soft wool tunic, her sapphire eyes unreadable. At long last, Calista slipped into bed. It was as soft and warm as she could have wanted.

  “Goodnight, my child,” Evadne chimed, but Calista did not hear for she was already fast asleep.

  CHAPTER XIII