The Veiled Descendants

by Sophia Menesini

  ​“Then I start the same process, I begin to lose my invulnerability. Not to mention the call would begin to replace him. But yes. Our powers would be greatly reduced. You’d most likely lose your healing abilities, and your bending would be more like it once was.”

  ​“What call?” Shea asks warily.

  ​“You shouldn’t worry about it, I don’t plan on dying anytime soon,” Poseidon gripes, glaring at his son.

  ​“But didn’t you say Perses tried to kill you in the Underdeep?” Caen mentions.

  ​“Yes, with celestial steel,” Poseidon explains. “The only metal that can kill an immortal and invulnerable god. Created by Hephaestus himself in the underwater volcanoes of the Underdeep. There was an old legend that claimed if a god was ever stabbed in the mortal realm by a mortal man with a celestial steel blade, their immortality would be transferred to them.”

  ​“A myth. But he stole my sword while I was sleeping. Maybe he thought it was real,” Triton states.

  ​“Did you get it back?” Aster asks from the helm, enthralled by the story.

  ​“Yes,” Triton murmurs. “After I stabbed Perses through, I withdrew the blade. I couldn’t bear to wield it again, so I threw it down to the depths with our brother’s body.”

  ​“I still don’t understand why he’s doing this, if he’s dying, I mean?” Shea murmurs. “What does he have to gain from taking over Nereid?”

  ​“That, dear sister, is an excellent question, and one that makes me curious as well.”

  ​“I’m sure you didn’t call us up here for a theology lesson, how can we help?” Poseidon inquires.

  ​“Actually, I’m going to need Beck for that, considering I wasn’t there.”

  ​“I thought that’s why you wanted them,” Beck’s voice speaks up from behind Poseidon and Triton, who step aside to let him through.

  ​“How long were you there?” Shea demands.

  ​“Um, the whole time. I wanted to know what was happening.” Beck shrugs.

  ​Shea pinches the bridge of her nose.

  Caen chuckles beside her.

  ​“This is about how he transported us to Arethusa, right?”

  ​Shea nods.

  ​“Who?” Triton asks.

  ​“Perses,” Beck responds. “When he attacked my father’s ship weeks ago. We were all in longboats, he spoke to me, gave me a message to give to Jo, and then he blew the shell and we were transported to the shores of Arethusa.”

  ​Triton and Poseidon catch each other’s eyes, alarmed.

  ​“What?” Shea asks.

  ​Triton ignores her in favor of asking Beck another question.

  ​“What did it feel like? And the sound, what sound did the shell make? You actually saw him blow it?”

  ​“Yes, it was shrill. Painful. When we moved, it was sudden, almost instantaneous, and it felt like my stomach tried to eat itself.”

  ​“Did your vision go dark?”

  ​“For maybe a moment.”

  ​“It’s not possible,” Triton tells Poseidon.

  ​“But it sounds like it. Either he’s getting help from my brother or he somehow accessed it using the shell.”

  ​“Somebody please explain what is going on!” Shea shouts, and everyone turns to her.

  ​“There’s no need,” Triton remarks.

  ​“No, there is,” Shea argues. “I need you to do whatever Perses did.”

  ​“I can’t.”

  ​“What did he do?” Caen growls.

  ​“Shadow magic.”

  ​“Shadow magic?” Shea repeats.

  ​“Yes. It’s a traveling magic. A god or someone claimed by Hades, a demigod or elf, can use that magic to move within the shadows. It’s like a world of mirrors. You enter into the shadows and you can choose which one you leave through. It’s easy to transport yourself, harder to transport others but not impossible.”

  ​“You’ve done it?” Shea interrogates.

  ​“Yes.” Triton nods.

  ​“So, you can do it now?”

  ​“No.”

  ​“Why not?” Caen almost whines the question.

  ​“I don’t have my shell. I’d need it in order to do it; it’s not technically in my dominion so I’d need it to boost my power to access that kind of magic.”

  ​“Okay, so you do it.” Shea points to Poseidon.

  ​Poseidon actually has the audacity to look sheepish.

  ​Caen scowls. “Let me guess, you’d need your trident?”

  ​“Yes,” Poseidon sighs.

  ​Beck groans. “We’re doomed.”

  ​“What can we do?” Shea exclaims.

  ​She looks between her brother and their father, waiting for a response.

  ​“We can use what abilities we do have,” Triton murmurs, leaving them all on the afterdeck and heading for the bow.

  ​They look between each other and then take off, racing after him.

  Shea has to stop and order Aster back to the helm.

  ​Beck, Caen, Poseidon, and Shea all make it to the bow where Triton is looking out over the starboard gunwale toward the water.

  ​“What’s happening?” Beck asks.

  ​Shea doesn’t answer; instead she watches Triton step back from the rail. He takes a deep breath and centers his stance, placing one foot in front of the other. He raises his hands out toward the front of the ship and then flings them both back across from his right side.

  The ship lurches ever so slightly.

  ​He does it again, and again, and again, until Poseidon and Shea realize how he’s bending the water. Like he’s pulling the ship along on an invisible rope.

  Poseidon meets Shea’s eyes. He nods and heads for the port side of the ship.

  She heads to the right with Triton.

  ​They match his stance, Poseidon doing everything on the opposite side and Shea following Triton.

  ​“You got it?” Triton huffs, teasingly.

  ​“No problem,” Shea snarks with a cocky smile.

  ​On the count of three, they extend their hands.

  She feels the water with her mind. Imagines she’s touching the cool ocean, and she can feel the invisible cord within her grasp. Once she has a tight grip, she pulls it back.

  ​The ship lurches forward. Caen and Beck fall backward, unprepared by the wind and speed. Shouts from the crew can be heard all over, and Caen suddenly realizes tying everything down would probably be a good idea.

  ​Poseidon, Triton, and Shea keep going as the crew scrambles around them, tying down loose cannons and crew members.

  She vaguely hears Jo in the background, shouting and asking about what’s going on, but she has to focus on the task at hand.

  ​They keep going and the ship is moving so fast that small waves of water grace the deck, splashing and soaking various crew members until Caen orders most of them below.

  ​They bend the water for hours. They keep it up until it’s time to light the torches and the stars have appeared.

  It took them seven days to get to Orena from Arethusa even with the Megathirio.

  ​Shea’s tempted to keep going but Triton nudges her and gestures over to Poseidon, who looks about to drop. Not to mention she can hear half her remaining crew puking over the sides of the rails.

  ​Shea drops her arms, and as soon as she does Poseidon does too, almost collapsing where he stands.

  He manages to catch himself on the rail and Shea almost runs over to help before she remembers she’s still mad at him.

  ​James is lighting the deck lanterns, now that they’ve slowed to a natural speed.

  Triton reaches over for her and she doesn’t realize how tired she is until she finds herself gratefully leaning into him.

  ​She looks up to say thank you but flinches back when he reaches down and wipes a finger under her nose.

  ​“You need to be careful,” he says.

  He shows her his finger and her eyes widen when she sees the bloo
d smeared across it.

  She reaches up, wiping her nose, and comes away with a little more blood, but the flow seems to have stopped already.

  “Magic isn’t built for mortal bodies,” Shea repeats, remembering what Triton said.

  “It’s why human Nereidans can’t practice it anymore, and why it’s even dying out among the elven race. The older you get, the more powerful, it’s only natural,” Triton explains. “But the more powerful you get, the more your soul burns through your body, exhausting it. You’ll need to be careful as you get older. I thought it might be different with you because of—”

  He cuts himself off and clears his throat to stop himself from finishing his sentence.

  “Different because of what?” Shea asks.

  “Never mind.” He smiles.

  Jo arrives on deck and grins when she sees Shea. She jogs over to her wife, kissing her hello.

  “Somehow Strom had the steady hands needed to make supper. He says we can all go to the galley now.”

  “I need to check the charts,” Shea says, but Beck is already at Jo’s side.

  He leans against her a bit, his eyes slightly lidded in exhaustion, and interrupts.

  “Caen wanted me to let you know, we’ll be in Arethusa in two days.”

  “We did it.” Shea laughs, and Triton claps her on the back.

  She looks up at Poseidon and is surprised to see Caen there with him.

  He helps Poseidon up from where he sat down against the gunwale and they clasp each other’s forearms in what looks like a truce.

  Shea wonders what that’s all about and why Caen has suddenly decided to forgive him.

  “So, dinner?” Jo asks.

  “You know,” Shea sighs, “I don’t really feel like going to the galley.”

  “Me either,” Beck admits tiredly, holding his arms against his chest.

  “Well, why don’t we eat on the deck?” Triton asks.

  Shea stares at him, then looks up at the stars, at their comforting light.

  Dari always preferred starlight too.

  “Let’s do it. Triton, Beck”—Triton stands at attention, while Beck tries to hide his exhaustion behind a smile—“round up anyone who’d like to eat on the deck tonight, start bringing up the meals.”

  Triton gestures for Beck to show him where and Beck realizes that he’s going to have to take the lead. He heaves a breath and tells Triton to follow him.

  Shea almost calls after him, but Jo grabs her hand, distracting her.

  “What shall we do?” her wife asks.

  “You and I”—Shea smiles, leaning in and kissing Jo with a gentle touch—“are going to take a little trip to the ship’s rum caskets.”

  About an hour later, almost the entire crew is on deck. Chairs and barrels have been brought up from below and everyone is sitting around with steaming bowls of stew and mugs of rum.

  Strom, with the help of Aster, even brought up a small table and the pot so he could refill anyone’s empty stomachs. With the lack of mouths to feed, rationing is no longer a requirement.

  Poseidon sits near Caen, who seems to be talking with him quietly.

  Other members of the crew are talking among one another and sharing stories of those they lost.

  Beck sits down gingerly on one side of Shea, careful not to let his back touch the barrel he’s leaning up against.

  Shea tries to ask, but he waves her off and she doesn’t have the energy to push.

  Jo sits on her other side, sipping on the warm broth of the stew.

  Triton is talking animatedly with James and Aster about something she can’t hear.

  She simply takes in the feeling of life all around her. Her eyes water as she thinks of Dari and Phoebus, as well as the crew she lost on Orena.

  Beck watches her intently, and he reaches into his jacket pocket, searching for something, his body rigid and tense.

  Shea reaches out to touch him, but Jo places a hand on her leg.

  She must have noticed Shea’s change in mood as well.

  Shea looks over at her and kisses her softly in gratitude for the comfort.

  A note fills the air, and then another, and Shea turns to see Beck has pulled out his flute.

  He seems to have a little trouble holding up his arms, but then he adjusts his position so his elbows can rest on his knees and it seems to help.

  Was he injured? Shea wonders and is about to ask, but then he plays a couple bars of a familiar tune.

  She smiles as the music relaxes her and she closes her eyes a moment, allowing herself to really focus on the melody from the flute.

  Footsteps alert her to someone in front of her, and she looks up, surprised to find Triton.

  James and Aster sit down near Jo and Beck until they’ve created their own small circle, their own group.

  Triton sits as well, bringing his knees up to his chest like Beck.

  “Tell me about them.”

  Shea doesn’t need to ask who he’s talking about.

  She shakes her head, scrunching her eyes tightly closed to stop the tears.

  “I can’t,” Shea mutters.

  There’s a moment of awkward silence and even Beck stops playing.

  Shea almost gets up to go to bed, when Triton speaks again.

  “You look just like your mother. Ami.”

  Shea’s eyes fly open, and she stares at Triton in shock.

  “You knew her?”

  “Ami?”

  “Yes,” Shea breathes.

  Triton glances back in Poseidon’s direction, and she looks over as well, noticing that his face has darkened at the mention of her mother’s name.

  “I did, I knew her very well.”

  “Triton,” Poseidon warns.

  “We’re just sharing memories, Father. She was a kind mortal elf, right?”

  Triton’s eyes flash challengingly back at Poseidon, who’s still sitting next to Caen. It seems as if their father might argue, but Poseidon sighs and gestures for him to go ahead.

  “You liked her?” Shea inquires, a little surprised considering that means their father cheated on Triton’s mother, Queen Amphitrite, with her.

  “Oh yes,” Triton smiles. “It’s different for the gods, the concept of infidelity. Well, except for our aunt Hera, but then our uncle Zeus never knew when to keep it in his pants. But no, my mother didn’t care about the relationship.”

  Poseidon chuckles in the background.

  “Your mother is Amphitrite,” Jo whispers.

  Triton looks over to her and places a gentle hand on hers.

  “She really loved Arethusa. She truly felt honored to be your patron.”

  “Loved?” Jo asks.

  Triton nods. “My mother gave up her relic willingly to live among the mortals like my cousin Aphrodite.”

  “Cousin?” Shea repeats, trying not to think about the familial implications of being a demigod and sleeping with a god.

  “Incest is also different for us. Our family connections are soulful, not by blood. It prevents abnormalities that way.”

  “Gross,” Beck comments.

  James and Aster agree, if their facial expressions are anything to go on. They all look at Shea tragically, remembering her past relations with V.

  “Okay, so back to my mother.” Shea chuckles, rolling her eyes at their judgmental looks.

  Triton grins. “Ami. Ami is…stubborn, incredibly smart, I never met a being who could outwit her. She could be quite traditional, never a break in protocol. She had such a connection to the water, like you do,” Triton murmurs, lost in reverie.

  Shea tries to imagine her in her mind, but she can’t see her; nothing about Ami comes to her.

  “I wish I knew what she looked like,” Shea laments.

  “You do.”

  “No. I don’t remember my mother. Paetre seemed to think it had something to do with the blow I took to the head from one of the slavers who took me from the Eastlands.”

  “You never told me that,” Jo says.<
br />
  “I had Dari. She was my mother for all intents and purposes.”

  “She was,” Triton agrees. “But you have seen your mother.”

  Shea shakes her head, raising a brow.

  “When you opened my door,” Triton reminds her.

  “I saw a lot of things when I opened your door,” Shea quips, thinking of the intimate moment between him and Thetis.

  Triton blushes, the tips of his pointed ears a light dusted pink, and everyone laughs at his show of modesty.

  “The last memory, smartass.”

  Shea tries to think back to their duel in the temple, the flashes of Perses, Thetis, and…her mind settles on the image of a woman. A red-haired woman singing to a babe in a wicker rocking chair.

  “That’s…that was my mother?” Shea murmurs.

  “Yes.”

  “But you…” Shea thinks back to the memory; she can vaguely recall Triton saying something to her. “You said…”

  “I used to visit when you were born. You were one of my father’s children I knew about, and I liked Ami, so I would visit you both sometimes. She’d sit in that rocking chair and sing to you for hours. She loved music,” Triton says wistfully.

  She can hear the vague whisper of a tune from the back of her mind. She begins to hum a bit of the melody, and as she does, her eyes widen.

  “I know that song!”

  Beck takes his flute back out of his jacket with a wince. “I think I do too.”

  Shea wants to ask him if he’s okay, but Triton interrupts.

  “It’s an old elven lullaby. It was a warning to keep children from wandering into the woods and to warn them about the fae, elves who practice dark magic,” Triton explains.

  “No.” Shea shakes her head. “I mean yes, I know the meaning, but I know that song. I…”

  She closes her eyes, searching her memories until a soft, wispy voice enters her head and suddenly she can see her much younger self and Dari sitting on her bed, singing her a lullaby.

  The first nights when she came to visit and was no longer on the ship, and Paetre was far away, were always the hardest. The only way Dari could get her to fall asleep was if she sang to her.

  Shea smiles with tears in her eyes. “Dari used to sing that to me too.”

  “Maybe you’ll sing it to our kids one day,” Jo tells her with a watery smile.

  Aster leans his head against James’s shoulder and chuckles. “Oh, she has. She must not remember, but she sang that song to me on one of my first nights on the ship when I couldn’t sleep.”