The coronation promise of a new governor.
And then Caius is dragging Beck toward the lifeboats and he can just barely make out his father heading for the center harpoon on the bow.
Beck struggles, but his vision swims. There are more hands throwing him into a boat and the creature of the damned is screeching into the air. The boat drops with velocity, and as the lifeboat hits the water, Beck’s vision begins to clear.
He jerks himself out of Caius’s grip as he’s rowed farther away from the sinking Iron Serpent. He can see the snake leaning onto the ship, and an arm wraps around Beck’s waist as he’s hoisted back in case he tries to jump overboard.
They’re rowing farther away, until they’re at a safe enough distance that the sinking ship won’t drag them down with it, then it’s as if they cross a magical barrier because the wind returns sharply.
Beck shouts for the soldiers to stop rowing and they do, just as confused by the sudden change.
“Row back.”
“No, don’t,” Caius demands.
“I said row back,” Beck growls and the soldiers listen.
They row toward the ship, crossing the invisible barrier once more—the wind stops. It disappears like the snap of someone’s fingers, and Beck commands them to keep rowing.
And like magic, as soon as they pass whatever line is in the middle of the sea, the wind reappears, whipping harsh and strong.
Shouting brings Beck’s attention back to the ship; he can hear the distant release of the harpoons launching, and each one hits the serpent with penetrating speed.
The creature screams in agonizing pain, and Beck can just make out his father at the center launcher in the bow of the ship. He’s waiting for the creature to hit the deck—and it does, hard enough that the wood splinters and the men and women on the lifeboats cover themselves from falling debris.
Beck watches as his father releases his harpoon and it lands right in between the serpent’s eyes.
It falls.
The rest of its deadweight slams through the main deck and cleaves the ship.
The men and women who manned the launchers are jumping into the sea, but Beck loses his father’s figure in the chaos of the snake taking down the ship.
“The governor!”
Someone shouts from one of the nearby lifeboats, pointing toward the front of the ship, and Beck sees a figure jumping from the bow. He hits the water and that’s all Beck needs.
He elbows Caius in the face and dives into the cold water of the sea.
“Beck! You get back here right this instant!”
But Beck ignores him and swims as fast as he can to where he saw the figure fall.
There’s a strong current as the ship and serpent sink; his lean muscled arms slice through the water, pulling him closer to where he’ll hopefully find his father.
“Dad,” Beck calls as he nears the area where he saw his father jump. There’s debris everywhere, and Beck pushes his hair out of his eyes as he scans the water for Orion.
Finally he sees a body hung over a piece of floating wood, and he takes off toward it, kicking his legs as fast as they’ll go.
“Dad!”
Beck reaches the figure.
“Beck,” Orion coughs, blood dripping from his mouth and down his bottom lip.
“Dad, my gods.”
Beck feels his father’s body, searching for the cause of the pain radiating on Orion’s face—and finds it, a large piece of wood sticking out of his father’s left side.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Beck whispers as his father groans.
“We’ve got to get to the lifeboats,” Orion commands weakly.
Beck adjusts himself so he has a hold on the wooden raft supporting his father from sinking below.
“Yes, little prince, you should swim back beyond my border before another monster happens by.”
Beck startles as a new voice joins his father’s, and he looks up to find a man—no, an elf, standing on the water in pristine black robes.
His short red hair is slicked back, and it makes his freckles stand out against the morning light. But what Beck can’t shake is that the elf is walking on water.
“Swim, little prince, I’ll meet you there.”
The man vanishes into thin air and Beck feels something lurch inside himself; he begins to kick, carrying his wounded father on the plank of wood back to the lifeboats. He paddles as hard as he can, and he can feel the moment he passes the invisible border once again.
A wave of water splashes against the force as if there really was something waiting for them, hoping it’d catch Beck and Orion before they crossed.
Beck makes it back to the boat with Caius, and a few of the soldiers jump in to help get Orion into the boat.
Caius sets up a makeshift bed using some of the padding left in the longboats for emergencies, laying Orion on top of it, and he cries out.
They pull Beck in while he tries to catch his breath.
“Caius, there’s something else out there—”
Caius turns to look at Beck, but his eyes go wide at something behind him.
Gasps can be heard from the varying lifeboats and Beck begins to shake. He doubts it’s from the vicious wind.
People are murmuring and the soldiers stand at attention, drawing their swords.
Beck finally turns.
There he is, standing on the water barefoot. The elf is tall but not abnormally so, perhaps a few inches taller than Beck, who’s five foot nine.
The wind whips the strands of his robes around, making him look like death personified. And to Beck, listening to his father’s ailing breaths, the piece of wood still stuck in his side, that’s exactly what he is.
“Well done, little prince.” The elf smiles, and it’s taunting.
Beck growls, unsheathing a sword from the soldier’s scabbard in front of him and standing to point it at the elf. “Who the Underdeep are you?”
“Ah, forgive me, I’m Perses. Commander of the seas as you’ve now seen. You shouldn’t have crossed my border.”
Beck doesn’t like the sound of that, and he can hear his father’s breath shudder.
“You did this? The serpent?”
“I’ve given the seas back to the monsters that once ruled them, yes, you would have been safe had you not sailed so far out. The people of Nereid have forgotten that the sea has not always belonged to them. You should thank me for the lesson, it’s not one you’re likely to forget.”
Perses gestures to Orion, and Beck doesn’t look back.
His skin feels like it is burning despite the cold.
“How are you here? What do you want?”
“I have a message for the queen of Arethusa. And you’re going to tell her for me.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because your father will surely die out here—don’t you want to at least give him a chance, little prince?”
Beck bristles at the nickname.
“What are you?”
“I am the new ruler of Nereid. And I have the power to help you try and save your father. So, what will it be? Time is wasting.”
Beck wants to ask how—why? How can this elf have the power to summon sea monsters, and why did he unleash it upon them? But instead he keeps his grip steady and the sword pointed at the dark elf.
“What’s the message?”
“Good choice.” Perses grins.
He disappears before their eyes and then reappears just as quickly, directly in front of Beck. The sword falls from his grip, and in a mocking gesture of the kiss Orion gave his son earlier, Perses kisses Beck’s forehead.
Beck gasps as images and words flood his mind. The information is overwhelming, and he falls to his knees on the longboat.
“Beck!” Caius shouts, alarmed. “Get away from him.”
His voice trembles as he holds his dying best friend, watching his pseudo-nephew clutch his head weakly.
“You’ll tell her?” Perses asks.
Beck breathes heavily and looks up at Perses with angry tears in his eyes. “Yes.”
“Very good, little prince, very good.”
And then Perses is gone, reappearing back where he began. He pulls a conch shell from his robes. It pulses with black, bubbling power.
“Good luck.” Perses smiles and puts the shell to his lips.
Before Beck can object, Perses blows.
Sound fills his senses—including the screams from various members of the survivors.
Beck’s eyes close, and when they do, the loud screaming stops. He opens his eyes and finds himself, all of them, all of the lifeboats, on a shore.
And not just any shore.
Beck looks up at the cliffs and sees the palace of Thalassa.
They’re in Arethusa. So much is swirling in his head. He can hear people begin to scream again while others are throwing up, sick with vertigo.
Beck listens to his heart beating wildly in his chest, Perses’s words echoing in his head.
His father’s cries bring him back.
“Get him to the castle! We need to move. I need to see her,” Beck shouts, and soldiers scurry to their governor’s side.
People climb out of the boats, falling, and Beck can see Arethusian soldiers marching toward them in the distance.
Caius clutches his chest, his eyes wide, as if he’s seen Hades himself.
But Beck can’t think about that now.
“I have a message for the queen.”
Chapter 3: At Game’s End
Jo
The light is peeking over the sill when Jo awakes. Her eyes adjust to the sunrise glow, and the open arches allow the morning breeze to filter in past the waterfall running over the windows.
She sighs. Relishing just a few more minutes in the warmth of her cream silk and bear fur blankets trapping her own body heat.
They’ll be here any minute, she thinks.
Her eyes flicker over the queen’s bedchamber, which so long ago belonged to her mother, Queen Triteia.
And now they’re hers.
She turns in bed, lying on her back, and looks to her left, imagining vibrant red hair lying over the pillows beside her.
A lithe muscular frame covered in freckles, tan from the sun. Her back faces Jo and it feels so real, like the queen could reach out and touch her. But her fingers grace the empty pillow instead and Jo lets them fall down to the comfortable surface.
One year.
One year since Jo murdered her father, became queen, and proposed to the woman she loves.
Killing Mariner felt easy in comparison to ruling Arethusa alone.
Jo misses Shea with all of her being.
She gave Lieutenant Soren—well, now her general—instructions to keep an eye on the captain and report her movements to Jo.
The queen made plans in the early months to capture the elf in person, but reports came back that changed her mind.
Shea has been looking for the Lycon Vault of Secrets. The thing that started their entire journey together and the treasure Shea gave up on to save Jo’s country.
Jo couldn’t stop her after everything, and so after a year, according to the reports, Shea is now close to finding the map, and once she has that, all she’ll need is the key.
Jo figures letting her have her last score is the least she can do, but gods, she misses her.
Caeruleus arrives every once in a while with letters and small gifts tucked within his claws.
With every letter Jo feels as if she can last another month, and then a fortnight passes, and she feels alone all over again.
A knock raps at the door, drawing Jo out of her thoughts. She sits up in bed, pushing her blond hair behind her shoulders and straightening her posture.
“Enter.”
The double doors open and in storm Rhea and Gaea in their fabulous morning moods with maids following behind.
Jo’s two ladies-in-waiting, Beroe and Eione, also enter.
The maids quickly get to work tidying up, and one heads to the enormous white marble fireplace to get it started.
Jo laughs as she notices Rhea and Gaea cling to each other upon entering.
“My dear, it’s freezing in here. Did no one keep the queen’s fire roaring all night?” Rhea screeches, rubbing her nearly translucent, white fingers up and down her wife Gaea’s arms.
“And what—what are the—the bloody windows doing open?” Gaea shivers.
Beroe, Jo’s old schoolmate and friend, signals for the maids to close the arches with a heavy drapery. The fabric closes over the arches, previously displaying the gorgeous falling water over the windows and the sun reflecting off the shower, leaving the room darkened.
“I’d actually prefer the windows open, I like the breeze in the morning, and I asked them not to light the fire until morning. It makes the chambers too warm,” Jo explains.
Eione, a noble lady from court who was quickly becoming a close friend, folds back the covers for Jo to get out of bed.
Her hair is red but not the same shade as Shea’s—more of a coppery blond, really, and it makes Jo nostalgic every time she sees it.
It’s tied up in a tightly braided bun. Her dress is a light purple with a sheer material bunched under the sleeves and above her bodice, giving her chest the appearance of feminine modesty. It falls to floor length and a blue gem sits at the bottom of the corset just as the dress flares out at her hips. The color gives her light skin a creamy look, complementing her brown eyes.
Beroe, her other lady-in-waiting, is in the same style dress. But hers is a light orange color, like the sunset. It makes her dark skin glow, and the red gem at the bottom of her bodice complements her tightly curled brown hair.
Beroe steps forward, offering her hand to Jo, who takes it and stands, smoothing out her white nightgown while Eione folds the covers back over the bed.
“Good morning, Your Majesty.” Eione smiles, taking a deep blue, heavy robe from one of the maids, who Jo recognizes as Miranda.
She holds it so Jo can put her arms through.
Once the robe is on, Jo ties the silver rope belt around her waist. She adjusts her hair and murmurs to Eione and Beroe a good morning in return.
“Gaea, Rhea, what are you doing here so early?” Jo questions, eyeing her two advisors.
Beroe and Eione take seats at a table that has been quickly set up by the staff for the queen’s breakfast.
Jo walks the rest of the way to them but doesn’t take a seat just yet.
After becoming queen, she made her two escorts her advisors, knowing that she couldn’t have them watching her every move anymore.
So, like any new queen, she chose her new attendants. Lady Beroe and Lady Eione, esteemed women and daughters of prominent noble council members, and now her friends.
“We thought it might be prudent to discuss the peace summit. The governor will be arriving this afternoon—”
Jo cuts Rhea off, “This isn’t anything I don’t already know.”
“Dear, something like this event hasn’t happened since Oceanus’s first year of independence a century ago.” Gaea frowns, disliking the disregard given to her wife.
“And?” Jo asks, keeping her gaze on both the older women, trying to dissect their expressions.
“They’re dying,” Rhea sighs. “Their country is on their last breath, and they can’t stand against Lycos any longer. They’re flailing.”
“And you suggest I tell them that?”
“Yes,” Gaea agrees, surprising Jo.
“And then you tell them that we’ll help,” Rhea continues, and Gaea finishes, “By having them give Oceanus to Arethusa, and becoming citizens of the queendom.”
There’s a moment of silence by every member in the room.
“You’re suggesting that the queen uses the peace summit she called, in order to take their country just as Lycos is trying to do, by force?” Beroe says, standing and going to her queen’s side.
Rhea and Gaea look at each other a
nd nod.
“Yes,” they state together.
“No.”
The room returns to the deathly quiet state it had been in a second ago, the staff, Jo’s ladies-in-waiting, and her old escorts noting the ice in Jo’s voice.
“Joana,” Gaea begins.
“Lady Gaea, I am your queen, and while I will always love you”—Jo nods to Rhea—“both of you, you have overstepped your bounds. I have called this summit to offer aid, not threats. You’re both excused. And”—Jo takes a breath but keeps her voice firm—“I think it best if you don’t attend the welcome rites.”
Rhea opens her mouth to object, but Gaea stops her. “We see. As you wish, Your Majesty.”
Jo keeps her posture and gaze steady. She waits until the heavy doors have shut behind them and then reaches for Beroe’s hand, which is already waiting for her.
“Damn them,” Jo whispers.
Eione is also standing, and she helps Beroe urge Jo toward her seat at the breakfast table.
“They are old, Your Majesty, burdened by a time less merciful than today,” Eione tries politely to comfort her, but Beroe merely snorts.
“They’re two salty old women stuck in the past. But they love you. They need to understand that you are the queen, not their child.”
Jo smiles at both of their comments, and as her two ladies take a seat, she can’t help but laugh.
“They are quite salty, aren’t they,” Jo chuckles.
“Must be all the sea air,” Eione mutters and then goes silent.
Her eyes widen and her cheeks turn bright red due to her comment.
Beroe and Jo stare at her wide-eyed as well before breaking into laughter.
“Why, Lady Eione, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak ill of anyone before.” Jo snorts, thanking her lady’s maid Miranda, who smiles as she pours Jo a glass of juice.
“I don’t think she ever has,” Beroe teases, and Eione smiles.
“Anything for you, my lady.” Eione grins and lifts her glass of juice in salute to Jo.
“Well I appreciate it. Now.” The table takes a moment to sober and then it’s time to get back to their regal duties. “The peace summit.”
“Your dress has been chosen,” Beroe confirms, “and the royal guard awaits at the port to escort the governor, his son, and the dignitaries to the palace.”
The Veiled Descendants Page 3