The Veiled Descendants

by Sophia Menesini

  “What is it?” Phoebus asks.

  As he does, something huge bursts from the clearing’s perimeter.

  A loud snapping sound rings in Shea’s ears and she practically chokes on her tongue as an impossibly large crab comes barreling toward her.

  The creature is big. A normal crab that seems to have grown ten times its small size. Its shell is a dark blue, and some kind of moss is growing on its limbs and body.

  It creeps toward the group, snapping its claws violently, its black eyes reminding Shea of a giant spider.

  It hisses as it races forward, and Shea quickly moves into a correct stance and blasts the crab back using her magic.

  She uses the water from her bag, but it’s not enough force; the crab takes another few steps forward.

  Shea throws out her left hand, summoning a wave of water from the fountain and slamming it into the side of the monster, throwing it off-kilter, and it almost topples over. Almost.

  Another giant crab bursts through the other side of the clearing. It clicks something at the other crab, who clicks back and then starts running at the group.

  Poseidon lets out a loud battle cry and slams Caen’s hammer into the creature’s face, sending it flying backward.

  Caen laughs, caught off guard by Poseidon’s strength.

  “Let me down, you giant oaf, I’ll break their shells in two,” Phoebus shouts, trying to unholster his sword, but Caen holds him back.

  Shea’s crab is back at her again, charging toward her with more speed. She summons more water from the fountain to her side, bringing it up behind her. She pictures the water crystallizing and molding until she opens her eyes and finds icicles all around her. She pushes her hands forward and the icicles go slamming into the crab.

  Most of them break on impact on the crab’s shell, but she focuses a few at its legs, especially the joints, breaking off two in the process.

  The creature screams in pain, collapsing in on itself.

  “That’s my girl,” Phoebus praises.

  Caen hollers in approval and Shea turns just in time to see Poseidon beating the other crab back. It’s clearly wounded, and he seems to be going in for the killing blow when he’s blasted backward off his feet by a column of water.

  Shea whips her head around at Caen’s shocked expression to find a man standing in the clearing with his hands outstretched. His face is solemn and covered in a short beard, his hair is a copper brown, and his eyes are so blue he looks blind. His face is familiar, as if she’s known him all along, and there’s an angle to his jaw that reminds her of the red-haired woman she saw in her vision when she landed.

  Shea summons some water from the fountain to her side, getting into a fighting stance, but he simply turns on her, staring at her firmly.

  He straightens himself up, his body lean but obviously muscular; it reminds Shea of a soldier.

  His clothes are strange. His pants curve tightly to his frame with cord wrapped around the pant leg bottoms and he’s barefoot. His shirt is short sleeved and there’s a hood connected on the back. It seems to be made of some sort of leather. His ears are pointed, so maybe he’s an elven priest who’s somehow survived here all these years? Maybe he knows where Triton is.

  The man allows his right hand to drop to his side and uses his left to snap his fingers.

  Shea’s bending falls away right in front of her. Her eyes widen in alarm and she tries to summon it back, but something is holding the water down; she can’t pull it from the ground.

  Poseidon sits up from where he landed from the blast, seeing the younger man standing before all four of them.

  “Triton,” Poseidon greets.

  Shea’s mouth drops open.

  “Father. I’ll thank you not to kill my crabs,” Triton states, his hands going to his hips.

  “They tried to kill us first.” Shea scowls, not liking his superior attitude.

  He doesn’t respond, his eyes merely scan her frame. Once he’s finished examining her, he rolls his eyes, much to Shea’s distaste, before turning back to Poseidon.

  “I’m only going to ask you this once. What in Hades do you want?”

  Chapter 29: Brother’s Keeper

  Shea

  After their confrontation with Triton’s pets, he leads them back to his makeshift camp up against the pillars and inner wall. A cloth canopy connected to three trees stretches over a cot, a firepit with cooking utensils and pots, a table with varying tools on it, and a rather modest living space.

  The crabs follow behind them, and Triton shows Caen to his cot, allowing Phoebus to be placed down and cared for much to his complaint.

  Shea stays close to Poseidon, watching Triton with fair interest but wariness. He obviously has a problem with their father, and apparently Shea.

  Once Phoebus is settled, Triton picks up a clay bowl that has fish and vegetables inside. He brings it over to the firepit and lays the fish on a flat stone that he’s heated over the fire.

  Shea snorts as she realizes he’s cooking dinner for himself.

  “Triton,” Poseidon begins, but Shea’s immortal half brother quickly cuts him off.

  “No.”

  “You said you’d listen,” Shea snaps, taking a step toward him, but Poseidon holds her back.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, go ahead, ask what you want,” Triton sarcastically drawls, keeping all of his attention on the fish.

  The giant crabs shuffle off into the garden, out of sight, and Shea notices Caen hasn’t put his hammer away as he stays by Phoebus’s side.

  “Quit your mothering, I’m fine, Caen,” Phoebus complains, slapping Caen’s fussing hands away from his injured leg.

  Triton pours some water into a pot over the fire and lets it simmer, periodically adding strange plant life to the concoction as it starts to boil.

  Poseidon carefully walks over and takes a seat next to his son, watching him cook.

  Shea sits on the opposite side of the pit, waiting for Poseidon to explain, but when he finally speaks, it’s different from what Shea expects him to say.

  “I need my net. You have it, don’t you?”

  Shea raises a brow, confused at the statement.

  Triton understands perfectly though, and he chuckles coldly. “Right. Didn’t have time to grab your trident before you shut the gates? I thought I sensed him. Perses is on the mainland then?”

  “You knew Perses was back?” Shea growls, but Triton ignores her question.

  She’s just about to knock his cooking fish on the ground when he abruptly stands, scooping some of the boiling water out of the pot into a clay cup.

  He takes the hot liquid over to Phoebus and Caen. He starts to hand it to Phoebus, but Caen grabs him by the wrist, stopping him. It spills some of the boiling water onto Triton’s hand.

  Triton winces but keeps his voice steady as he speaks, “It’s a pain reliever. It’ll also kick-start the healing process.”

  ​Triton takes a sip of the drink to show Caen it’s okay, and Caen takes it from him.

  Phoebus sits there watching the whole exchange warily.

  Caen smells it, takes a sip, gags a little at the taste, but it seems to be enough for him. He hands it to Phoebus to make him drink it.

  “I just saw your face; I’m not drinking that!”

  Caen grabs him by the neck, steadying him.

  “I don’t need it, you bloody pest!”

  But Caen forces it down anyway, and Phoebus coughs from the heat of the liquid.

  “There, I drank it. I don’t feel any…any…different,” Phoebus mumbles and promptly passes out on the cot.

  “You’re welcome,” Triton mutters, but Caen ignores him, checking Phoebus’s pulse just in case.

  Triton returns to the pit and turns his fish to cook the other side.

  “I didn’t know for sure, but I could feel his magic. His door became visible again in my mind, and more powerful, so I assumed it was because he was alive and had my shell,” Triton answers, and Shea realizes he’s fina
lly talking to her.

  She notes that he also sees mental doors in connection to magic but pushes away the familiarity.

  “Why didn’t you come back then? You must have known we’d need you!”

  “You don’t need me,” Triton tells her.

  He takes the fish off the stone and takes it to the table with the variety of tools. One of the giant crabs enters the camp carrying leaves in its claw.

  It hands the leaves to Triton, who takes them gently, brushing his hand along the claw in a soothing gesture. The crab chitters happily and creeps back into the garden.

  ​Her brother picks up a rather large knife and begins to slice the fish into pieces. He lays each piece onto a leaf and Shea realizes then that they’re plates. He takes two once he’s done and gives one to Caen, then lays the other next to Phoebus.

  Caen, surprised by the gesture, actually thanks him, which the god doesn’t respond to.

  Triton goes back for the other leaves.

  “And before you say it,” Triton continues his earlier comment, “he doesn’t either.”

  He hands the leaf to Poseidon, barely looking at him.

  “He’s here for something far more valuable than his immortal son, dear sister,” Triton chuckles and hands Shea a leaf with her own slice of fish on it.

  “You know who I am,” Shea murmurs.

  She notices that there isn’t a slice left for Triton and yet he sits back down in front of the pit, stoking the fire.

  “Easily, you look like…”

  Poseidon cuts him off quickly, “Her mother. Triton knew Ami when she was elected to the elven council years ago, isn’t that right?”

  Triton raises a brow, but he doesn’t object to Poseidon’s interruption. “Sure.”

  Shea wants to ask him more about her mother, but unfortunately that has to wait. She picks a little at the fish before setting it down.

  “Triton, you’re not…”

  “What you expected?”

  “Yes,” Shea agrees.

  “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m still the same monster I always was, and if that helps you explain why I’m not going to get involved, that’s fine with me.”

  “Perhaps we should start over,” Poseidon attempts, but Triton laughs harshly in response.

  “You’re a thousand years too late.”

  “Look, the reason we came is because our father says we need you to defeat Perses. You’re the only one who can take back control of your shell.”

  “The only one? Is that what you told them?” Triton asks.

  “What do you mean?” Caen questions, standing.

  He lumbers his large frame over, stopping behind Poseidon.

  “Meaning, I’m a minor god. He’s the king of the sea. He has total control of the shell just as I did because he made it for me many years ago, or well, he used to.”

  “Poseidon?” Shea says, trying to get him to look at her.

  “I did, yes. But I can’t take it from him now; I’ve been without a power source too long.”

  “Because you shut the gates and cut your power. Left your trident behind too, and I’m sure you were banking on your last resource. Who knew little brother could be so powerful for a mortal?” Triton spits.

  “I was caught off guard, he used your shell to recruit the Merrow, and there aren’t as many gods in Atlantis as there once were,” Poseidon growls back.

  “And whose fault is that?” Triton stands, anger coursing through his muscled frame. “I wondered why you opened your door. A year ago, on Tenaro, I summoned a tidal wave, just like that.” Triton snaps his fingers. “I’ve never felt so powerful.”

  “Then you don’t need my net.”

  “I don’t have it.” Triton smirks.

  The clearing goes quiet. No one speaks, and Shea turns to see Poseidon’s face clouding with anger, his eyes a shade so blue they look like they’re glowing.

  Shea stands slowly, and Poseidon does as well.

  He lunges at Triton, practically picking him up off the ground by his shirt.

  “What?”

  “I lost it. Somewhere off Tenaro when I was fighting to escape,” Triton tells him.

  Poseidon is practically shaking with fury. He drops Triton to the ground, and he lands next to the firepit, knocking down the pot of boiling water. Poseidon kicks the pot, sending it flying to the other side of the camp with a shout.

  He walks away with his hands on his hips.

  “Hades, Triton! How could you be so careless?”

  “I don’t understand,” Shea speaks, breaking up this argument between Triton and their father.

  Caen is watching this whole exchange with his arms across his chest, studying Poseidon with a new ferocity.

  “Why do you need this net? We found Triton, he can take control of the shell and defeat Perses,” Shea recounts everything Poseidon has been telling her for the last week and a half.

  “Oh, he didn’t tell you. He didn’t tell you anything.” Triton shrugs, then stands and brushes the dirt off his clothes.

  “I’m broken.” Triton opens his arms wide like he’s showing off why. “He banished me after I trained Perses and Perses tried to kill him. He banished me to Tenaro with his magical net as powerful as his trident. An anchor, which he needs, by the way, to restore his power, his last resource, to grant him enough strength to open the gates of Atlantis so he can return home. That’s why he brought you all here.”

  “What is he talking about?”

  “He closed the gates because he needed the power to banish Perses from the realm of the gods. But once he did that, he locked off his power supply from Perses and himself.”

  “Atlantis and the trident,” Caen says, piecing this together much more quickly than Shea is.

  “Right. I like you.” Triton grins. “The net, like the trident, is his physical power as king, one touch and he’d be as powerful as he is when the gates are open, he’d have the ability to open the gates and return to Atlantis. Maybe he’d kill Perses for you. Maybe he wouldn’t. Because in the end, he’d be back where he belongs. And he could lock off the Underdeep from the mortal world for good. That sum it up, Dad?”

  Shea can feel her stomach turning.

  “Tell me it isn’t true,” she commands, staring at her father’s back. “Tell me this wasn’t some wild goose chase to get you here. Tell me you didn’t use me,” Shea hisses, pulling her dagger from her lower back holster.

  Poseidon stands with his back to the group, his hands on his hips much like Triton had done earlier.

  “I would have killed him before I went back,” Poseidon explains, but his voice turns into a background drawl as Shea’s chest shudders.

  “Could you have killed him before, on your own? Before Beck lost his father, before we lost Tero?” Shea rasps, her stomach churning.

  “No,” Poseidon objects, turning to face them all. “Well, maybe. Perhaps I could have summoned the shell, but it wouldn’t have given me enough power to open the gates; it wasn’t a guaranteed defeat. Venus and I searched for another way to open the gates but there wasn't one. I had hoped to get my net before we came to you, but it wasn't possible. I needed one of my children to get across the Old Sea alive. I wasn’t sure you’d help me without…motivation. I assumed it’d still be with Triton. I needed more power to guarantee my return to Atlantis before Perses was defeated, otherwise I’m trapped here.”

  “So, everything you said about only a child of Poseidon could kill another child of Poseidon?”

  Triton bursts out laughing, and Shea glares at him.

  “Well okay, shame on you for believing that.”

  “So all of this was a waste of time?” Caen roars, taking his hammer off his back.

  “Not exactly,” Shea answers for Poseidon. “Because you definitely can’t kill him now, you wouldn’t even stand a chance against him.”

  Poseidon looks away, ashamed.

  Shea can’t stand it anymore; she throws her dagger, and Poseidon cries out as it enters his
upper right shoulder. She’s careful with her aim so that it doesn’t hit anything important, but it hurts.

  “Because without that net, and all the time wasted, you’re practically mortal now in strength. Right?” Shea snarls.

  Poseidon lands on his knees, pulling the dagger out of his shoulder, and sighs, “Yes.”

  Shea curses and runs a hand through her hair.

  Caen nearly throws his hammer.

  “Underdeep,” Caen growls. “We need to get back, now.”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Shea commands, and Caen looks at her, confused.

  “He can’t defeat Perses, and I certainly am no match for him on my own. But we draw our power from our father like he draws his power from his trident or net, so the most powerful child of Poseidon is standing right next to us and he can still destroy Perses and take control of the shell,” Shea explains and points at Triton.

  Triton slow claps. “Well done. Perhaps you’re not as slow as I thought.”

  “We don’t stand a chance without you,” Shea tells him.

  “You’re absolutely right. I am your only hope.”

  “So, will you help us?”

  “No,” Triton states.

  He begins to turn away, and Shea makes a decision that she knows is wrong. She made a promise, but she doesn’t see another way. So, she admits a secret that isn’t hers to tell and she hopes she won’t regret it.

  “You have a son,” Shea tells him with a wince.

  Poseidon looks up in surprise, clutching his wounded shoulder.

  Triton stops and looks back at Shea.

  “What?”

  “You have a son. Maybe you remember a woman by the name of Thetis. She had your son after you left her.”

  “The child survived,” Triton breathes out, his face contorting with what looks like pain.

  “You knew?” Caen asks.

  “I saw her right before she was banished, and I felt the babe growing inside. I’d never sired a demigod before, and it made me…feel. I tried to find her after she left Erebos, but she disappeared, and I never knew what happened to her. I found what I figured was humanity and then I found Perses.”