“His son?”
“Aye. I mean yes,” Eione corrects herself, but it makes Jo smile.
Eione is from an outer estate on the eastern coast of Arethusa, closest to the elven Eastlands. The language is laxer. In fact, life is more casual there in general.
Jo has expressed her wishes to visit someday, as Eione’s accent reminds the queen of her red-haired elf.
“Yes,” Eione continues, “Master Beck of Oceanus, next in line to become the governor. He rises to power in three years; it wouldn’t be a bad idea to speak more directly to him. He’ll be the one you’ll be dealing with soon enough.”
“I see, very good, Eione.”
“If I may, ma’am,” Beroe begins, and Jo sees Eione subtly shake her head, but of course Beroe doesn’t listen.
“I hear that the heir is quite fair to look at.”
Eione rolls her eyes and Jo chuckles.
“You have, have you?”
“Yes, perhaps a more permanent alliance would not be unwise to consider,” Beroe expresses delicately.
“Marriage,” Jo clarifies.
The two ladies nod and Jo realizes Eione agrees.
“No.” Jo shakes her head gently but firmly.
Eione sighs. “My lady? It’s been a year, and while you are strong to rule by yourself, surely, a consort at your side might, perhaps, alleviate some of your…stress?”
“You’ve had no one share your bed, and I know you’ve had offers,” Beroe points out.
Jo waves the comments away, eating the bits of fruit and toast on her plate brought by Miranda.
“Beroe, as I appreciate your candor about my stress, I am an engaged woman.”
“But are you?” Eione asks.
Jo looks up, shocked, as if she’s been slapped.
Eione must see the surprise in her queen’s expression because she at least has the decency to look guilty.
“Yes, I am. Arethusa has a consort and her name is Shea Lara.”
“Okay then. We are all with you and will support Mistress Shea, but, ma’am, I fear that if you do not bring her in soon, the council will no longer be able to approve your choice and will ask you to find another.”
“Soon, Beroe, Eione. She’s close. She gave up everything for me to give me my everything back. I have to give her a chance to go after what she wants.”
“But why can’t she do that here?” Eione questions once more.
“Because as queen I can’t support what she’s after unless I want war,” Jo explains.
Eione’s face turns white at the implication.
“But as her fiancée, I can give her time.”
“I don’t know how much time you two have left,” Beroe tells her in all honesty.
Jo places her hand on her friend’s in acknowledgment.
Soon the maids are clearing the plates, the table is taken away, and her ladies help her dress for the occasion.
They’ve chosen a deep blue gown with quarter-length sleeves that fit her every curve. Shimmering, glossy material fans out, and the stiff tulle makes it look almost like ethereal tentacles. They place white metal armor on her shoulders and white plate metal around her neck, more decorative than for actual battle use. A belt made of pearls is placed on her hips, and Eione gets to work on her hair as Beroe helps her into her flat blue velvet shoes.
“And so it’s a great honor to have—”
“To receive,” Eione corrects as she finishes the many braids on the top of Jo’s head, leading to a small bun before the rest of her white-blond hair falls freely down her back. Eione places a silver spiked crown in front of the high bun at the back of the braiding.
“To receive, yes thank you.” Joana smiles before going back to practicing her welcome speech. “It is a great honor to receive—”
Beroe begins to stand from helping Joana into her shoes when the heavy double doors to her chambers fly open with tremendous force.
Eione and Beroe step in front of their queen protectively until they see who it is.
Rhea leads a small battalion of men and marches into the room. Jo pats Beroe and Eione to move aside and meets Rhea halfway.
“What’s happening?”
“They were attacked,” Rhea tells her.
Suddenly Shea’s face, bloody and lax, flashes across Jo’s mind, and her throat closes up.
“Who?” Jo chokes out.
“The governor and his party,” Rhea clarifies and she doesn’t comment on the release of breath from Jo as she relaxes ever so slightly.
“Where are they?”
“They’re here.”
Jo’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “How is that possible? They’re hours off our shores.”
“Your Majesty, you need to come immediately. One minute, the entire Oceanus party was at sea and the next they appeared on our shores. I can’t explain, but there’s someone who can and he needs to see you.”
“Who?”
“The governor’s son,” Rhea tells her.
Jo is already pushing past her, the battalion following their queen’s lead as she marches down the halls.
“Where are they, Captain?” Jo demands.
The captain of the castle guard tells her he’ll take her to them.
“Joana!”
Jo stops and turns back to Rhea, standing at the door to her chambers.
“He says he has a message for you.”
“That’s fine,” Jo waves her off, but Rhea shakes her head.
“Dear, he says he has a message for you.”
Jo nods for her to continue.
“He says it’s from the god that attacked them.”
Jo blanches. “The god?”
“You didn’t see him, Jo.” Rhea shivers. “There’s something out there.”
The words put a chill in Jo’s spine. She’s never seen her escort look so terrified.
Jo nods firmly and snaps for the captain to lead her on.
But she wonders what message a god could possibly have for her?
***
Jo arrives in the ballroom, stepping through the doors, and she can’t help but remember all the eyes that fell upon her a year ago when she entered the room on her father’s arm.
Wild and worried eyes fly to her presence as she marches down the blue carpet aisle, looking every bit the queen she is.
At the end of the aisle, in front of the thrones, she sees a man that looks to be about her age and an older gentleman with graying blond hair and a thick beard, his frame lean.
As she marches closer to them, the young man tries to speak, “Queen Joana—”
But Jo keeps her gaze ahead on her throne and passes him without a word.
Out of the corner of her eye, before she steps too far and he’s out of sight, she sees his arm reach out to stop her, but his attendant restrains him.
Smart man, Jo thinks and finally arrives at her throne. She turns and scans the room, taking in all the scared and sobbing faces, and she knows that Rhea was right.
But what exactly is out there, Jo intends to find out.
She takes her seat on the throne. Five guards take their posts on either side of the dais and another waits at the bottom of the steps to oversee the young man and his escort.
She eyes the young man, memorizing his features. His lithe muscled frame, his dark brown hair and caramel eyes—he’s handsome for a boy, she thinks, and then assumes this must be Beck, the governor’s son.
The older man with him holds no familial appearance to Master Beck and so Jo wonders, where is the governor?
“What happened?”
Jo waits for a response and finds confirmation in her assumption of Master Beck’s identity.
The younger man pulls his arm out of his attendant’s grip and stands at the bottom of the steps leading to the thrones.
His escort moves behind him, off to the side, and the Arethusian guard places his hand on his sword gently.
“We were attacked,” Beck states.
His eye
s are hard and red around the edges, as if he’s been crying, or holding tears at bay.
“Where is your father?” Joana demands, letting him know she knows who he is.
Beck’s eyes drop to the floor and there’s a tick in his jaw before he speaks. “Fighting for his life in one of your guest chambers, ma’am. He was injured in the attack; a length of wood pierced his abdomen.”
Jo closes her eyes. So much for the peace talks.
She opens them again and meets Beck’s gaze. “So then, this all falls to you.”
Beck straightens up and nods.
“Who attacked you?”
Beck laughs and Jo’s eyebrow rises.
“I thought they told you,” Beck responds.
“Forgive me if my belief wavers,” Jo scoffs.
The anger on Beck’s face from her response doesn’t affect her nearly as much as it should.
“The only information I was given is that a god gave you a message for me. Spare me the metaphoric speeches, was it another ship that destroyed the Iron Serpent?”
“Actually it was another serpent,” Beck spits, and Jo can tell the niceties are over. “A sea serpent like nothing I’ve ever seen. And then a god, he looked like an elven man, but I say god because I’ve never encountered a mortal who could summon monsters from the depths, and walk on water. Nor one with the ability to transport six longboats full of people from one part of the ocean to the next. Have you?”
“No,” Jo breathes, and she doesn’t have to question Beck to know he’s telling the truth; she can see it in his people’s eyes.
Suddenly she remembers a conversation she had so long ago with a blond-haired boy in a brig.
“Then why wouldn’t the monsters be real as well?”
But Jo knows that the monsters are real, she’s fought them, after all. Now there’s another question, one she wonders if Aster would answer so quickly like the one before.
If the monsters are real, then why wouldn’t the gods that made them be real too?
Jo shakes herself out of her reverie. Whispers rumble through the crowd of Arethusian nobles, Oceanan delegates, and soldiers.
“I’ve seen powerful magic before, there are fewer rules than one can imagine. Let’s hope for everyone’s sake this god is mortal,” Jo grits out, and she can see in Beck’s eyes that he’s not so sure.
“The serpent? Is it dead?”
“Yes,” Beck tells her. “But that’s not Nereid’s problem.”
“And what is? What’s this message that he gave you?”
Beck smiles, though it’s empty of emotion, and the chill Rhea gave her grows.
“He’s taking it back.”
“What?”
“The elf or god. He’s taking Nereid back.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He showed me images in my head.” Beck turns his back on Joana and speaks to the crowd. “The dark city of Lycos falling, creatures overrunning the roads, Oceanus”—there Beck’s voice trembles—“burning, and Arethusa…”
He stops and turns back, staring down the queen of Arethusa.
“Arethusa falling from its cliffs to the sea, erased. All of us as we’ve done to his people. And the best part?”
“What could be better than that,” Jo answers wryly, devoid of humor.
“We can’t leave. He’s put a barrier around Nereid, a barrier the Iron Serpent crossed. He’s given the seas back to the monsters, and as long as we stay inside the barrier, they can’t reach us.”
“But as long as we stay inside the barrier, he destroys us anyway. Interesting message,” Jo mutters.
Beck laughs, either from exhaustion and or his frustration finally getting to him. “That’s not the message. That’s the situation.”
He takes a step forward, and the guard at the bottom of the steps draws his sword, but Jo holds her hand up in a halting gesture.
She allows Beck to walk up the rest of the steps, and then he kneels down in front of her, so their eyes meet.
“You have a month.”
“A month,” Jo whispers.
“And then he’s coming, he’s coming for us all.”
“Who?”
“Perses.”
The doors to the ballroom fly open, and a trembling squire squeaks as all eyes turn to him.
“Your Majesty?”
He calls and Jo shakes her head. Beck is still kneeling at her feet.
“A young woman and a man are here to see you; the mistress says it’s very important.”
“Now isn’t the best time,” Jo growls.
“She says it can’t wait.”
Jo wipes her hand down her face.
“Joana.”
The mistress’s voice echoes through the room.
Jo looks up and sees the woman who haunts her nightmares standing at the end of the aisle beside a man she’s never seen before.
“Venus,” Jo says.
She doesn’t stand.
Venus and the older man make their way down the aisle.
Beck straightens from his position but stays close to Joana’s side.
Venus stops at the steps and bows, the older man behind her doing the same.
She’s still beautiful, but her clothes look weathered and worn and the cloak suggests she’s been traveling for some time.
The man is also gorgeous.
Jo holds no attraction, but she cannot deny his beauty, and his eyes are a color she can’t place, blueish green, constantly changing, almost swirling. His hair is gray with scattered strands of auburn. But his face is smooth, lacking the wrinkles that should match the gray.
“It’s been a while,” Venus says as she straightens from her bow.
“A year,” Jo agrees, but all she can see is the love of her life kissing those perfect lips, and it makes Jo want to throw her out a window. “Why are you here?”
“Perses,” Venus states and in that moment that’s all she needs to explain.
“How the Underdeep do you know about him?”
Venus sighs and looks up to the heavens.
“We know everything, Joana, and we’re the only ones who know how to stop him.”
“He’s a god.” Beck snorts, staring both of the newcomers down. “What can you do?”
There’s a chuckle from the man. “I like this one,” he mutters to Venus and his voice, gods, it gives Jo a different kind of shiver.
She notices that Beck uncrosses his arms, turning an interesting shade of red.
“Don’t worry,” Venus smirks, noticing the two leaders’ discomfort. “He affects everyone that way. Oh, and Perses is not a god.”
“He’s mortal. Powerful but mortal. He’s a demigod,” the man speaks again.
Jo forces herself to hear what he’s saying.
“He’s my son. And the only being that can kill him is his brother. Only a child of Poseidon can kill another child of Poseidon. They’re the only ones powerful enough to do it.”
“Child of Poseidon?” Jo repeats, mystified.
“We’re back. The gods, that is,” V murmurs, gesturing to Poseidon and herself. “We apologize for disappearing, but it seemed like you guys had it handled. Except, now there’s a bit of a mess, so we’re back. To help fix the problem.”
“Clear the room,” Jo commands.
The guards, the people, all of them are still standing slack-jawed, and Jo has to repeat herself.
They finally move out and the palace soldiers clear the ballroom; one of them tries to take off with Beck, but Jo orders him to be left. Finally it’s just Joana, Beck, and the two supposed gods.
“And why should we believe either of you?”
Beck is pacing back and forth, still trying to comprehend the entire dilemma.
“Because we don’t have any time left,” V growls. “We have to find Triton, he’s the only one who can take back control of his conch shell.”
“The god? Triton?”
“I’ve seen it.” Beck pauses in his pacing. “He used it to transpo
rt us all here.”
“It has many gifts, transport, enhancing abilities, sirening,” the man, Poseidon, explains.
“And where is he?”
“Aphrodite and I—I mean Venus,” Poseidon amends when Venus glares at him, and Jo just about faints.
Her fiancée’s ex is the goddess of love, way to give a girl an inferiority complex.
“We’ve been together for the past year to confirm his location and preparing for war,” Poseidon finishes.
“Wait,” Jo bites out. “You’ve known about Perses for a year?”
Venus and Poseidon look at each other.
“Longer,” Beck murmurs, outraged. “How long have you known your son was a murdering psycho?”
Poseidon’s eyes narrow at Beck, and suddenly Jo doesn’t think he likes the young man so much.
“Three years. He trained with his brother Triton, he wanted to become immortal, and I rejected the proposal. He tried to kill me and Triton prevented it. That’s when I sent Triton away. I assumed he killed Perses and that he lost his conch shell in the process, when Perses fell to the deepest depths of the Underdeep. But then a year ago, Perses surfaced. I had to close the gates of Atlantis to prevent him from stealing my trident, closing off my power. I barely escaped. The boy rose in Erebos and was forced out by the council. The elves put a barrier around the Eastlands preventing anyone access in, especially Perses.”
“The Underdeep? As in the realm of the sea gods?”
“The elves have access to it. Do try to keep up,” Venus explains.
“But how did he get to the Underdeep in the first place?” Beck asks.
“It’s a tradition among the elves to send their people who present with magic into the pit as a sort of initiation. Some come out and some don’t. Perses had presented with powerful magic before he could even be tested. They sentenced him to life in the Underdeep.”
“So, he was put there by his own people because of fear?” Beck growls.
“Fear can make people do terrible things,” Jo mutters. “So Triton? Where is he?”
“Tenaro. I sent him there on a pilgrimage to prove himself to me.”
Beck growls, “Past the boundary into monster-filled waters. How in Hades do you suggest we get to him?”
“That is where our solution comes in,” Venus tells them.
The Veiled Descendants Page 4