The Veiled Descendants

by Sophia Menesini

  ​There’s a holler from across the clearing. They both turn to watch Phoebus hobbling in from the path to the camp with Poseidon helping him. He’s got his sword out of his holster and he brings his arm back as far as he can and throws it toward them. It lands a few feet behind Triton, stabbing into the grass.

  ​Shea takes the opportunity while he’s distracted and lunges toward him.

  Triton turns, seeing her coming at him, and swipes his swords at her, but she slides under the blades and grasps Phoebus’s sword out of the ground.

  ​She takes up her proper fighting stance, the one Paetre showed her when he taught her swordplay, and grins at her brother.

  ​“We gonna stand around talking all day or are we going to fight?”

  ​She hears Caen call to Phoebus to break him out of the ice, and Phoebus orders Poseidon to take him over, which he reluctantly does.

  So, while they’re focused on Caen, Shea can focus on Triton.

  ​Triton growls at her and storms forward.

  She parries his blow and sidesteps, causing him to stumble. He may be great with magic, but she trained with the best swordsman in Nereid, her father, Paetre.

  ​She cracks one of his ice swords, and he has to roll back to avoid her swing, but she manages to slice his upper cheek.

  ​He reaches a delicate hand up to his cheek, feeling the blood drip down Ceto’s jaw.

  ​He closes his eyes and Shea feels that strange sensation again. It’s not entirely unpleasant; she just knows someone is there.

  He laughs when he finds what he’s looking for.

  ​Triton stands slowly from the ground. The empress mirage fades away and the cut on his cheek knits back together.

  He’s a man once again—just, not himself.

  Shea practically chokes. Her heart leaps to her throat as she sees Prince Mariner smiling at her.

  ​He’s still in Triton’s clothes, which helps her remember he’s not real, but then he speaks.

  ​“So, it’s not the empress you fear. I didn’t go deep enough it seems. You fear a dead man, and you should because the one immortal thing in this universe is death. And now that you know we exist, then Hades must exist too. You’re right in your assumption and it’s only a matter of time before you see him again,” Triton tells her in Mariner’s voice.

  ​“You’re not real,” Shea whispers.

  ​“Oh yes, he is.” Triton lunges.

  ​Shea knows it’s a distraction, but the duel from a year ago flashes in her mind. Mariner’s words in her head, her fear, her anger. Everything he said about Jo and her, how they wouldn’t make it, how they’d never truly be together. And then dying.

  ​She’s blocking him, blow for blow, but his grin, so similar to the one from their fight before, startles her and he slams his fist into her face.

  ​She falls backward.

  ​He kneels over her again.

  ​Shea can hear Caen yelling at Phoebus to crack the ice harder, but it’s too late.

  ​Triton—Mariner, pins her to the ground.

  ​It’s so familiar; he runs his thumb over her left eye, and she shivers like she did before.

  ​“Say it,” Mariner commands.

  ​“If I do? We lose,” Shea whispers.

  ​Mariner leans down until his mouth is right next to her ear.

  “You’ve already lost,” he whispers back.

  ​A tear falls from Shea’s left eye, and Mariner pulls back; he puts his knees on top of her arms and then wraps his hands around her throat.

  ​He tightens them, and she chokes as the air stops filtering through. She stares up into Mariner’s blue eyes, and she sees imaginary blood that isn’t there, flashes of before.

  ​Caen, Phoebus, and Poseidon vaguely shout in the distance. She thinks she can hear footsteps, but it’s too late and he’s right.

  ​Say it, Mariner mouths, and he loosens his grip just enough.

  ​“Mercy,” Shea rasps.

  Chapter 31: I Failed You

  Shea

  The journey back to Port Town is strained. Everyone is lost in their own thoughts and Shea particularly can’t get the encounter with her brother out of her head.

  Triton let her go after the fight. Caen didn’t even need to pull him off. He wasn’t trying to kill her, he just wanted to make a point.

  He reminded them all about the path again as Caen held Shea to his chest, tears visibly falling from her eyes.

  Phoebus held her hand as she coughed and tried to catch her breath.

  Poseidon watched from a distance, probably debating whether he would stay or return with them to Port Town. But before Triton could leave the clearing, Shea called out to him.

  “Triton!”

  ​He stopped, the Mariner illusion thankfully fading away, and he turned, looking back at Shea.

  ​She pushed Caen and Phoebus away and tried to stand. She even made it a few steps before she fell, but surprisingly, Triton reached out and caught her.

  ​“Thanks,” she murmured, and he nodded.

  ​Then he did something that caught her off guard; he smoothed her hair back from her face and helped her straighten up so she was looking into his eyes.

  ​“You’re a great fighter,” Shea told him.

  ​He smiled at her wistfully.

  ​“I could really use your help against Perses.”

  ​He laughed and shook his head. “You don’t give up.”

  ​“Not usually,” she said.

  ​“I already told you…”

  ​“I know, but if you change your mind. We’ll stay in Port Town a day, one day, and if you don’t come…You don’t come and we sail away.”

  ​“You’re a glutton for punishment, you know that.”

  ​“Yeah. But I’ve also felt what’s inside you, and I was wrong.”

  ​Triton raised his brow, looking so much like herself in that moment that she chuckled.

  ​“You’re not a monster, Triton. In fact, you’re actually a lot like me. So, don’t let him”—Shea pointed over to Poseidon—“win. Because staying here is what he would do, and I don’t think you’re like him anymore.”

  ​Triton stared into her eyes, searching for the lie, but he didn’t find any, because she could feel him. She could feel his memories still, and his emotions, and she knew he could feel hers.

  ​“Think about it.”

  ​And then they’d left.

  Poseidon came with them, much to Caen’s and Phoebus’s objections. After all, he’d lied about Triton and why they needed to come here. But because of him, Shea had met Triton, and honestly, she was too tired to banish him.

  ​They’d made it outside the temple and trudged to the edge of the jungle with Phoebus in Caen’s arms. As they’d broken through the jungle’s border, the sun rose over the horizon.

  ​Everyone would probably be worried; they were supposed to be back by now. Shea could barely think let alone care. They ate some rations from the supplies and were happy to find the horses where they left them.

  Caen hooked Phoebus’s pony to his own horse, as he’d have to ride with one of them because of his leg.

  ​Shea volunteered to take him, and soon they were back on the Starfish Cross.

  Hours passed slowly as they rode along the desert and carefully avoided the gems in the path. Phoebus sat in front of her, cursing periodically because of his leg but also comforting her.

  ​“It’s gonna be okay, kid. Maybe he’ll come.”

  ​“Maybe,” she responded.

  ​And then they’d lapsed into silence again.

  ​Now, the sun is high in the sky as they finally reach Port Town’s borders, and all Shea wants to do is take a bath and climb into bed with Jo.

  ​The greenery has blossomed even more since they were gone.

  Caen has to get down off his horse and cut through some of the plant life to make it back into Port Town.

  ​By the time they break through, it takes them another half hour t
o make it to the stables at Phoebus and Dari’s home, and it’s early afternoon.

  ​“Take him inside,” Shea orders Caen, nodding to Phoebus.

  Phoebus objects, but they all ignore his complaints.

  ​“You got it, Cap. I can handle the horses when I get back,” Caen tells her.

  ​“No, it’s okay. Let the father of horses do it,” Shea responds and tosses her reins to Poseidon, who dismounts his horse next to her.

  ​“Think you can handle it?” Shea asks, but it’s not really a question.

  ​“Shea,” Poseidon begins, but Shea holds her hand up, preventing him from speaking.

  ​“I’ll get you to the mainland, and then you should probably disappear. I don’t want to leave you here so Triton has to deal with you. I brought you here, after all, I’ll take you back as was the deal.”

  ​Poseidon sighs. He starts getting the horses ready to be put in their stalls.

  ​Shea walks in through the open door to the kitchens. She wishes she could wash up before they all see her; she looks a mess. Cut cheek, bruised jaw, split lips, hand marks bruised around her throat, and empty-handed after all. The wounds will heal quickly, and likely be gone by tomorrow, but the failure will still be there.

  ​She’s relieved when she doesn’t find Semele in the kitchen. She can hear people in the dome, the main part of the house. She puts her hand on the wooden door and breathes, just for a moment, and pushes all of her fears as far down as they’ll go. Because she lost, and now there’s no way they can stop Perses. And she’ll wait as long as she can for Triton, but he’s connected to her, and right now she doesn’t feel anything to indicate he’s coming.

  ​She can hear Dari cooing over Phoebus. He bravely recounts how he broke his leg and does not recall it being from falling down a hole.

  Shea laughs to herself at his antics. She thinks she can hear Aster and it sounds like Beck is out there too. She nods to herself. She’s not a coward.

  It’s time to face the music.

  She steps into the main room and everyone looks at her. Her torn clothes, her bruised neck and face, her hair having fallen out of a braid during the fight. She looks like a wild child.

  ​A single arm embraces her quickly and she freezes at Dari’s touch before relaxing, remembering that it’s alright. She’s safe, for now.

  ​“Look at you,” Dari mutters, pulling back. Her white hair is in a low bun and a few loose tendrils fall around her face.

  She’s wearing a nice green dress and her eyes are roaming over Shea’s face in a panic.

  ​“I’m okay,” Shea tells her, removing Dari’s hand from her sore jaw.

  ​Aster runs over to her and checks her for injuries as well.

  ​“I should have been there,” he tells her.

  ​Shea looks up into his eyes, and she smiles because he’s different.

  He’s grown somehow. He looks like a man. When did that happen?

  ​“I’m okay, really,” Shea tells everyone.

  ​Beck walks closer as well and Dari steps away, going back to Phoebus.

  She orders Caen to pick him up and take him to their bedroom, so she can get his leg set properly.

  ​“You look worse for wear,” Beck comments with a smirk.

  ​Shea laughs and has to clear her throat as it’s a little sore from Triton choking her.

  ​“Where’s Triton?” Beck asks.

  ​Shea sighs. She looks him in the eye and shakes her head.

  ​“I’m sorry. He’s not coming. There’s much to say, to explain, but I really just need a bath and sleep. I can explain more in a couple hours.”

  ​“Then it’s over,” Beck mutters, his eyes cast down.

  ​“No,” Shea says, “I left him with an offer; I told him we’d stay a day extra if he changed his mind, we can’t lose hope, not yet.”

  ​But Shea doesn’t admit she already has.

  ​She whistles for Caeruleus, who flies down from the center tree with a yowl. He lands beside her, rubbing his body up against her leg, and she reaches down to scratch his head.

  ​“Dari, can you get me some parchment and a quill?”

  ​Dari does as she asks, and Shea quickly scribbles down her request for Thetis and Venus to mobilize the Arethusian army, joined with the Oceanan militia. She tells them to shut the gates and prepare for war. She writes at the end, We’re on our own.

  ​Once she finishes the letter, she hands it to Caeruleus, who takes it in his back claws.

  ​“Arethusa, Caeruleus. And then wait for me there.”

  ​Caeruleus yowls again, what sounds like a groan, and flaps his wings, raising himself into the air. He rubs his face against Shea’s briefly before flying out the top of the dome, toward their final front against Perses.

  ​Shea turns to go to the bathroom with a sigh, eager to wash up, and runs unexpectedly into Dari once again.

  ​“Where are you going?”

  ​“The washroom,” Shea tells her and goes to continue down the hall, but Dari stops her.

  ​“Of course, but before you do, there’s something you need to see.”

  ​Shea glares at her, confused, and then she realizes someone is missing from this little reunion.

  ​“Where is Jo?”

  ​“Shea…”

  ​“Dari, where is she?” Shea asks, starting to panic.

  ​She looks back at Aster and Beck, who both are trying to figure out how to answer, and that only increases Shea’s fears.

  ​“Is she okay?” Shea demands.

  ​“Shea, everything is fine,” Dari tries to calm her, but the past twelve hours are catching up with her.

  ​Her mind is buzzing. She briefly feels a strange tug, like someone pulling on a cord in the back of her mind. She pushes the feeling away, her fear overriding her senses.

  ​“Shea.”

  ​A voice breaks through the panic and she looks up and gasps.

  ​Jo is standing in the entrance to the hallway looking absolutely radiant. Her hair is loose with a single braid framing her face, and petals are woven within the strands. She’s wearing a familiar dress that’s been slightly altered, the purple one Shea wore a year ago. There’s a stunning white sash tied around her middle.

  ​She runs toward Shea, and Shea opens her arms, catching her as she practically jumps into her arms.

  ​Shea lets out a sobbing breath as she holds her close, smelling her clean skin and feeling her soft hair tickle her face.

  ​“You’re okay,” Shea breathes.

  ​“I’m okay,” Jo repeats.

  ​They pull away from each other and Jo looks her over.

  ​Shea can barely look her in the eyes.

  ​“I tried,” Shea tells her.

  ​“I know,” Jo says, and she takes her by the hand.

  ​“Will you come with me?”

  ​Shea sighs and smiles softly, nodding her head in assent.

  ​Shea turns back to the room. Dari waves her on, while Aster fist-pumps the air, but what really worries her is the look of dejection on Beck’s face as he watches them go.

  ​She follows Jo down the white clay hall, past the many doors, before they arrive at Shea’s old room.

  Jo turns to face her before opening the door.

  ​“Close your eyes,” Jo tells her, and Shea has a sense of déjà vu.

  ​“Why?”

  ​“Trust me?” Jo asks.

  ​Shea looks up into her eyes and she shrugs. “Always.”

  ​Shea closes her eyes. She hears the door open, and Jo gently leads her into the room.

  Jo stops her just before the balcony and then lets go of her hands, leaving Shea feeling a little off-kilter.

  ​“Okay,” Jo tells her. “Open.”

  ​Shea opens her eyes and her breath catches. There are blankets on the floor, just like that night, and trays of food set in the center.

  Pink petals are falling all around them and Jo is standing in front of the blankets in
a ta-da kind of gesture. There are two goblets on the floor, and she leans over and picks up both that are already filled with a red liquid.

  ​Shea’s face has broken into a smile before she even realizes it, but a mental flash blocks her vision for a moment, and she stumbles back as she sees Mariner’s face.

  ​“Shea?”

  ​Shea shakes her head, clearing it, and stands.

  Jo rushes over with the goblets, checking to see if she’s alright.

  ​“Sorry, just reliving a lot of memories from last year recently,” Shea chuckles, taking a glass from Jo.

  ​“I’m alright really,” Shea tells her.

  She takes a sip from the glass, hoping it’ll calm her nerves, and smiles.

  ​“This is amazing,” she states, walking over to the blankets.

  ​Jo follows her over and they sit down together on the picnic. There are pillows there too.

  ​“I thought you’d be back last night, so I was trying to recreate our moment under the stars, but things changed, didn’t they?” Jo asks.

  ​Shea takes another gulp of the wine and nods.

  ​“They did.”

  ​“We lost,” Jo murmurs.

  ​“No. I lost,” Shea admits.

  ​“Shea, you did everything you could. You crossed an ocean of monsters to save Nereid. It’s not over; we’ll find another way. We still have Poseidon.”

  ​“He lied, Jo. About everything,” Shea explains, putting the empty goblet down.

  ​“What?”

  ​“He lied. He came here to get his power back. I guess Triton had something that would give him his abilities once again. Triton could barely look at him, and so he had no interest in helping us. He didn’t even have the object that could give Poseidon his power. We wasted valuable time. I can’t defeat Perses on my own and Poseidon is practically mortal.”

  ​Jo absorbs as much as she can, but Shea can see the devastation on her face.

  ​“I see,” Jo comments, “okay.”

  ​“Okay, what?”

  ​“Okay, we’ll find another way. I refuse to give up. There must have been something you learned right? Something we can use?”

  ​“I don’t know,” Shea states.

  Jo grabs her hand, forcing her gaze up.

  ​“Well then, why don’t we play a game?”