The Veiled Descendants

by Sophia Menesini

  Shea notes the abundance of greenery along the older buildings, surprised to see it so green this late in the year. Her thoughts come to a halt when Poseidon responds to her earlier snark.

  ​“I did. Other men as well.” Poseidon winks.

  Shea looks back at Beck and Jo with slight distress, turning around before they can see.

  ​“Attraction is attraction,” he continues.

  ​“Great, so not only did I inherit your insanely good looks, but also your promiscuity,” Shea snarls, picking up her pace to leave him in the dust.

  ​“You think I’m good-looking?”

  ​They reach the crossroads and she can barely see Caen anymore. He must have gone on ahead. She knows the way to her old home like the back of her hand. She points down the correct street, waving her hand to get Jo’s and Beck’s attention, and they nod in acknowledgment.

  She keeps going.

  Poseidon catches up with her anyway.

  ​“Just because I slept with other mortals doesn’t mean I didn’t love your mother, nor that I wasn’t loyal to her. She knew who I was. She knew what I was, and she loved me anyway. As long as I came home to her at the end of the day, that was enough for her. Because she knew that she and I were the only two who had the kind of bond we did.”

  ​There are colorful crabs and coral-looking plants intermixed with the same vines and trees that the old elven structures have always been covered in, but something feels strange.

  Shea can’t help but be distracted from her conversation with her father because she feels something else. Something like magic flowing through the vibrant plants and new critters crawling through the old city, the elven ruins, almost like a new presence.

  But the rest of what Poseidon has just said sinks in, and it makes her stop in the middle of the street. Poseidon pauses as well, staring around with confusion.

  ​“Are we here?”

  ​Shea runs a hand through her hair, a growl climbing up the back of her throat.

  ​“What bond? You have a wife! Or is that all a lie, and does my fiancée and her queendom worship an imaginary figure?”

  ​Poseidon sighs, his brows furrowing. “No, Amphitrite is real.”

  ​“So, then there’s your bond! You married her; my mother, Ami, was just another mortal woman in your lineup. I get what you’re trying to do,” Shea lowers her voice as she sees Beck and Jo finally walk around the corner.

  They’re closing the distance between.

  ​“But you and I are not the same. Our situations are nothing alike. I love Jo and I don’t care about whatever ideas I might have about Beck. Jo is my bond. So, don’t you dare try to justify how I’m feeling. You have no idea what’s going on inside my head,” Shea growls. “Got it?”

  ​Poseidon opens his mouth to argue, if the fire in his eyes gives Shea any indication, but he closes it just as quickly, shakes his head, and gestures for her to lead the way.

  ​Shea starts walking again, but her father speaks.

  ​“I’m sorry.”

  ​Shea stops. “What?”

  ​“I’m sorry.”

  “You said this already.”

  “Well, I’m saying it again,” Poseidon snaps and Shea turns to look at him.

  ​He crosses the small distance and stands in front of her, his eyes a lighter green than before and with a sadness that highlights the crow’s feet, betraying his old age.

  ​“I wasn’t trying to explain away what you were feeling, I was trying to…comfort. I guess I’m not very good at it.”

  ​Shea hums but doesn’t say anything in response.

  ​“Shea. Even with Perses, and finding Triton, and everything else that has happened, the one thing I was excited about was meeting you. I didn’t raise you, and I know I’m not your father in a way that truly matters but…I loved you, Shea. When I found out your mother had been pregnant and she had you, I was so happy.”

  ​Poseidon begins walking forward, and Shea walks with him.

  Jo and Beck are now close behind them.

  She thinks about scoffing and running away, but she finds herself rooted in place at her father’s side, wanting to hear every word.

  ​“When you were taken, I don’t know if you remember, but there was a storm. One of the largest Nereid had ever seen. I wanted to bring you back more than anything. I searched everywhere, but by the time my scouts found you, you were with Paetre.”

  ​Flashes of lightning and heavy rain, the slavers a group of three horrifying men, dragging her to the slave markets of Lycos. The memories barrage her being and she has to look at the ground passing under her feet.

  ​“Even then, I wanted to take you away but…your mother. She’s a powerful elf, the highest priestess on the Erebos council. She had a vision. That one day Nereid would need you and they would need the woman who would be raised by a great man. And that great man wasn’t me. It was your father, Paetre,” Poseidon says, but his normally powerful voice holds an underlying tremor of emotion.

  ​Shea doesn’t know what to say, or even how to respond. How does she equate the image Poseidon is painting with the man she thought she knew and the man he’s shown her to be?

  ​“Why are you telling me this?” Shea finally asks.

  ​“Because I love you. And it hurts knowing how much you hate me, but it hurts worse knowing that you might not realize that I love you as much as I love Triton, and Perses, and any of your other siblings. You are my children. Shea, you’re my beautiful, intelligent, strong daughter and I don’t like seeing you in pain. So that’s why I said…what I said, but you’re right—you’re not like me.”

  ​Shea nods—she was waiting for the catch in all this, and there it is. She opens her mouth to tell him off, but he beats her to it.

  ​“You’re so much better. And I’m grateful for this chance to get to know you and I’m thankful to your father for raising the woman you’ve become,” Poseidon finishes.

  He doesn’t walk away though, he stays by her side, his head held high and his gaze straight ahead.

  His words echo through her mind, and she studies him, truly studies him for the first time. His graying hair, and the small bits of copper still shining through, his greenish-blue eyes that change depending on his mood. His boisterous laugh when she gets something right in their training sessions, much like how proud she is when Aster surpasses her. And for the first time, she sees a man, not a god—not a celestial being but a father.

  Her breathing quickens, and her heart feels like it might burst. She had a father, in Paetre, and father figures in Caen and Phoebus, but maybe there’s room in her life for one more.

  She glances down at Poseidon’s right hand, hanging at his side as he walks beside her, and suddenly her left is filled with warmth and she realizes she’s placed her hand in his.

  Poseidon jolts, tripping on a step. He looks down at their intertwined hands. When he meets Shea’s gaze, his eyes are a stormy blue and there’s a smile on his face like the sun warming her on a cold day on the Duchess. He squeezes her hand and brings it up to his lips, landing a soft kiss on the back.

  Shea smiles at him for the first time.

  “Shea?”

  She turns her head in surprise as Caen’s masculine voice calls out to her from the courtyard in front of Phoebus and Dari’s home.

  She hadn’t even realized they’d made it the rest of the way down the winding cobbled streets to the courtyard with the water fountain of Poseidon slaying the kraken. Shea’s eyes wander over the stone carving of her father’s face, and she finally realizes why the statue has always bothered her so much—the face is too cold.

  Beck and Jo have stopped beside them, and Shea notices them staring at Poseidon and her.

  Caen is also staring, although more like glaring down the two of them.

  Phoebus is beside him, his expression unreadable and the grand door to their home is open.

  Dari is sitting at the edge of the fountain with a beautiful smile, staring
at something between Shea and Poseidon.

  Shea looks down to see what it is and realizes she’s still holding his hand. She quickly drops it and glances at Poseidon to see his reaction. The grand smile doesn’t disappear when she breaks off his touch.

  “Shea!” Dari announces, getting up from her seat where she seems to have been talking to Caen and Phoebus while they were waiting for them to arrive.

  She looks beautiful. Her normally long white hair has been cut to her shoulders with bright silvery curls bouncing against the sunlight. Her dark black skin positively shines against the beautifully flowing purple dress fitted to her thin frame. She has a white shawl over her shoulder’s concealing her missing left arm.

  Phoebus has shaved his beard, although his hair has grown a bit longer, stopping just below his neck. He’s standing next to Caen with his arms crossed, his short dwarf frame just as imposing as Caen’s giant height.

  Dari rushes forward, encasing Shea in a tight one-armed hug, which Shea returns with a laugh. They pull away just enough to look into each other’s eyes and Dari lands a kiss on her forehead.

  Shea can feel Poseidon’s eyes on them, and Dari must too, because she turns to him with Shea still in her arm.

  “Thank you,” Dari says, and Poseidon cocks his head to the side.

  “What for?” he asks.

  Dari smiles softly at him. “For giving life to my daughter.”

  Poseidon’s eyes widen and a smile of his own graces his features once again.

  Dari turns back to Shea and she leans in closer to Shea’s ear so only she can hear.

  “She’s still here.”

  Shea takes in a deep breath and nods.

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t think she’ll say anything. We were going to give her passage to the mainland, but with everything that you said in your letter…”

  “I understand.” Shea smiles.

  “We have much to discuss, Shea,” Phoebus states and there’s a strange look in his eyes that makes Shea believe him.

  “It seems so,” she responds.

  “Jo.” Dari grins, walking over to the blonde standing awkwardly off to the side with Beck.

  Jo steps forward and hugs the older elf with a look of relief.

  “Hello, Dari.”

  Dari pulls away after the hug and looks Beck up and down, making him blush. “And who is this?”

  Shea opens her mouth to answer, but Jo beats her to it.

  “May I introduce Governor Beck of Oceanus; he’s accompanying us on our journey to find Triton on Tenaro,” Jo explains.

  “Please to meet you, ma’am,” Beck tells her.

  “You won’t be going to Tenaro.”

  Shea, who had been watching the exchange, quickly turns her eyes to Phoebus.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s no need.”

  Shea walks the rest of the way until she’s standing in front of him.

  “Phoebus, we have to find Triton. I told you in the letter why.”

  Phoebus chuckles darkly and glares over at Poseidon. “Aren’t you supposed to be the All Father? The king of our gods? You’re telling me the closer you got, you couldn’t sense him?”

  “My powers aren’t what they used to be,” Poseidon answers gruffly.

  “I’ll say,” Phoebus spits.

  “Okay enough,” Shea growls. “Enough with the cryptic information. What are you talking about?”

  “He’s here.”

  “Or at least that’s what the rumors say,” Dari adds.

  “After your last visit, when you dropped off—”

  Dari coughs a warning and Phoebus doesn’t finish his sentence.

  Shea glares at him.

  He continues stiffly, “After the last time you were here. Folks down at the markets say a man arrived from the west. He went inland. Many claim he’s in the old temple, the old elven temple, and he hasn’t returned. Merchants traveled inland to investigate, only one came back claiming something about the temple now being protected by creatures, monsters.”

  “How can you be sure it’s him? He could be another powerful priest,” Beck argues.

  “Because we’ve both seen this kinda growth on Orena before,” Caen snaps back.

  “Years ago,” Dari notes.

  “Yes, when an immortal visited the island,” Phoebus states.

  “Who?” Poseidon whispers.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Caen replies. “The point is Triton is here.”

  “You don’t know that,” Jo adds.

  “Yes,” Shea tells them, and they all turn to her. “We do. I could feel something ever since we arrived. Like a familiar presence or someone I’m connected to. I don’t how to explain it, I just—I think they’re right. Triton…I think my brother is here.”

  Chapter 25: Close to Me

  Shea

  “Let’s take this inside,” Dari commands, gesturing for everyone to follow her into her home.

  ​After Shea’s confirmation, the courtyard grew eerily quiet. Shea can’t explain it, but the whole time she’s been here, she’s felt stronger. Her magic is snapping at the edges of her very being as if pushing at the inside of her flesh, snarling to break free, wanting to find the other magic on the island so similar to her own.

  ​Phoebus and Caen both turn on their heel and march inside without looking back.

  Poseidon follows a little behind, and Shea takes a step to join him but is stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

  ​“Are you okay?”

  ​Shea turns to find Jo and Beck staring at her with concern. Shea smiles at Jo’s question and takes her hand, kissing the back.

  ​“I’m okay. It’s better if he’s here, maybe we can convince him quickly and get home before they reach Oceanus. Maybe we can make it back in time.”

  ​Shea watches Beck’s eyes widen.

  ​“I hadn’t thought about it. The fact that Oceanus might be gone when we return.”

  ​He looks guilty and Shea grabs his hand too, without thinking.

  ​“Hey, don’t feel bad. A lot has happened and we’ve all just been focusing on finding Triton and hopefully figuring out how he can stop Perses from taking over Nereid.”

  ​Beck sighs and squeezes her hand in thanks.

  ​Shea smiles softly but then realizes what she’s doing and releases her grip. She looks over at Jo, but Jo doesn’t look upset. Instead, she looks quite content.

  ​Shea keeps Jo’s hand in hers and starts walking toward the entrance of Phoebus and Dari’s home.

  ​The shop hasn’t changed much, the marble counter is still there, though the herbs and supplies have changed around a bit on the shelves.

  Caeruleus is sleeping on the bird tree, laid out over three branches on his back without a care.

  ​Shea whistles and his greenish-blue ears perk up as he lazily opens his eyes to look at her.

  ​“Dumb bird,” Shea mutters affectionately as she gets close enough to scratch behind his ears.

  ​He purrs in response, a large yawn exposing his sharp fangs, and rubs his face along her hand.

  ​Jo gives him a tentative pet, which he takes.

  He stretches and meows, taking off into the air above them and flying to the kitchen, probably to find some mice to eat.

  ​“I’m glad he made it okay,” Jo laughs and Shea nods.

  ​Beck follows them the rest of the way into the giant dome with the beautiful oak tree in the center, spanning its massive branches and leaves over the room and acting as the roof of the building. Sun shines through the leaves, and Shea notices Dari has changed the floor to white rose petals instead of the usual enchantedly soft oak leaves. Magic invades every border of the walls and Jo chuckles at Beck’s awed expression, probably reminding her of the first time she was here.

  ​Dari walks past them with a tea kettle in hand, followed by a familiar woman from Shea’s earlier travels this year carrying a tray of cookies and snacks.

&nb
sp; ​Shea leads Jo and Beck to the dining area, which has a perfect view of the inner gardens. The monkeys are chattering softly across the grass and Shea can barely look at the glimmering pool as a pained sadness fills her.

  ​“Where’s Lena?” Jo asks.

  Jo looks around the inner garden, blocked by a wall made of tree roots, an arched window with no glass making it possible to see through.

  ​“She passed away, earlier this year,” Dari tells her sadly, sitting down and pouring cups of tea for the rest of the group sitting at the giant mahogany table in wicker chairs similar to the grown furniture in the living space.

  ​“Shea,” Jo turns to her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  ​Shea sighs. “It never really came up. It’s okay.”

  ​She pulls out a chair for Jo.

  ​Shea tries to pay attention to the conversation happening around her, but she’s focused on the woman who should be on the mainland by now.

  ​Tall, and exceedingly beautiful, her skin is a shade darker than Dari’s and her cheekbones would make any woman envious. Her amber eyes are similar to Caen’s, though not as strikingly gold, and her dreadlocked hair is artistically done up in a gorgeous bun. She’s wearing a similar dress to Dari’s, and she’s careful not to meet Shea’s eyes.

  ​The woman places the tray down quickly and goes to leave, but Shea can’t stop herself.

  ​“You’re still here.”

  ​The lady stops, graceful as her upbringing implies, and she turns to Shea with a haughty expression.

  ​“I would have left, but your parents insisted I stay for my safety.”

  ​She’s been working on her accent, it sounds more Orenien than Charisian, but it doesn’t matter.

  ​“Well, perhaps I could arrange safe transport down at the docks,” Shea tells her.

  Semele smirks.

  ​“Shea,” Phoebus barks, “Semele is our guest as long as she wishes, considering the circumstances.”

  ​Shea turns to Phoebus, examining his rigid posture.

  This conversation should be fun.

  ​Jo, Beck, Poseidon, and Caen all stay intelligently silent, but Dari is glaring holes in the side of her husband’s head. At least someone is on her side, Shea thinks.