The Veiled Descendants

by Sophia Menesini

  ​Jo looks over at her wife and asks, “You mind?”

  ​Shea uncorks the waterskin at her waist and draws a lasso of water from it. “Not at all.”

  ​She pushes the water back into the skin.

  Caen throws her some clothes, and she catches them easily.

  ​She smiles gratefully and quickly changes into the leather pants, that’ll give her a bit more protection than the clothes she had on before. She keeps her boots and blouse and shrugs on a leather jacket, tying the cords closed.

  ​The flask remains uncorked.

  ​“We should go,” Beck warns.

  Shea nods in agreement.

  They all head for the door. They’re a few steps down the hall when another explosion rocks the castle. But this one is different, Shea heads for one of the waterfall windows and looks out. The purple boundary is fading, blinking in the dawning light before it extinguishes.

  Screams and battle cries fill the air and Shea has to hold on to the window to keep herself from falling over in shock.

  ​“He broke down the barrier.”

  Chapter 43: Hades’s Bargain

  Thetis

  The gate’s warning bells ring, alerting the palace that the war is here. Thetis listens to the sound, rocking her son so he doesn’t wake.

  Shea placed the room under an illusion. An enchantment much like the one she uses on her brand so that anyone who passes by the door won’t see it unless they’re looking for it. But for this enchantment, they have to be looking specifically for Proteus for it to work. It’s a clever spell and it makes Thetis’s blood boil.

  She wants to scream. She doesn’t want to leave her son. His beautiful black hair is a wavy mess and she desperately wishes he would open his green eyes one last time for her to see.

  She’s scared, not of this, not of war. But what comes next.

  Shea has obviously chosen a side—she believes Triton to be good.

  From what Thetis saw earlier, Shea may be no better than he is. What if she tries to take Proteus away from her? What if she believes Triton will be a better parent than she is? Thetis’s grip on her son tightens; she won’t let that happen. She lays her son down in his bed, whispering a silence charm that will be disturbed if he’s touched, so he doesn’t wake.

  Thoughts are running rampant in her head, terrible thoughts, horrible ideas, and yet she wonders if she’s making a choice, the same way Shea did against her.

  Thetis grabs her cloak from the door, wrapping it around herself. She reaches for the door handle, looking back at her sleeping child one last time, and then steps out with her hood veiling her face.

  She takes off toward the gate and reaches the courtyard door, stepping out with her hand on her conch shell. Her eyes flash a deep blue and she looks at the world through her siren eyes.

  The Merrow are at the gate tearing at the boundary. The pathetic servant elves are holding the line, feeding their magic to the parasite veil.

  Thetis keeps her face obscured and hurries to the focal point where she knows she’ll find who she’s looking for.

  The soldiers are hard at work, using Triton’s plan, letting in a few fish folk and soldiers before closing the gate again and cutting them down.

  If she does this, those men are as good as dead. The thought makes her trip, and her knees slam into the cobbled ground. She’s breathing heavily and her head aches.

  What is she doing? She’s not thinking straight. But a voice from the back of her mind whispers for her to get up. It tells her of course she’s not thinking straight, she’s protecting her child. She has to protect her child.

  Thetis pushes herself off the ground. She focuses her magic again.

  A soldier stops her, telling her she needs to go back. She doesn’t think twice before enchanting him into believing his sword is food and he’s starving. She continues past even as the blade runs through the back of the boy’s head and he falls to the ground in a puddle of blood.

  Finally, the focal point appears; she can feel the power emanating off of it. Triton’s magic. It’s so familiar, it makes her heart unconsciously beat faster. It fuels her rage.

  He’s there.

  On the other side.

  In black leather pants, boots, and a black robe top similar to her own that falls in three slits around his legs, making duels easier.

  She can see the conch on his hip, the same as the day she first laid eyes on it when Triton blew the shell and a sound more beautiful than anything she ever heard flowed from it, enchanting her. She wants nothing more than to destroy it. She steps up to the barrier and chuckles when she sees Ceto on the other side in full gold armor.

  Ceto doesn’t have a helmet. Her hair is done up in an elaborate braid with gold spikes sticking out of it. She’s carrying a gold sword and is surrounded by five of her men and five Merrow.

  Perses is handsome. His features are similar to Shea’s and Triton’s, but she realizes that his hair is a darker copper and duller. His nose is sharper, like a hawk’s beak, whereas theirs is chiseled like a statue. He’s noticeably half of what they are. But the power emanating off of him also makes him so much more. His presence stretches even through the barrier.

  “Hello again,” Perses murmurs and his voice catches her off guard.

  It’s quiet, solemn, deep, and wise but with a cold tint and lack of emotion. It makes her feel like she’s listening to a current at the bottom of the ocean.

  “Thetis…come crawling back, have we?” Ceto muses.

  Thetis doesn’t respond, she doesn’t even look at her.

  Ceto is a fly in the air behind this magnificent creature.

  And if Thetis wants to live, she’ll bargain with him.

  “What do you want?” Perses asks in the same voice.

  He cocks his head like he’s trying to understand how she works, what makes her tick.

  “My son. I want my son.”

  “And you know what I want,” Perses tells her, lifting his robe and showing her what she knows he already has. What he needs in order to get what he wants.

  “Yes,” Thetis responds.

  “You’re willing to help me get it.”

  “Yes,” Thetis repeats, but she knows his last comment wasn’t a question.

  “Then you know what I need to ask.”

  “You’ll find him in the throne room. I’ll delay her.”

  Perses smiles, and it’s like looking into the face of a hungry Lionbird.

  “Then let me in,” he commands.

  Thetis shivers as she reaches her hands up to the focal point.

  Perses does the same and she focuses on the magic, disassembling every knot in Triton’s framework until the last piece dissolves.

  A loud crack echoes across the sky as the barrier lifts. The soldiers at the main gate start screaming, and when Thetis opens her eyes, she finds herself staring into two dark green orbs.

  “Go get her,” Perses commands.

  Thetis obeys.

  Chapter 44: Too Late

  Shea

  Caen and Beck are held up by a group of Merrow.

  Shea wants to stay and help, but they all agree that she’s got to get to the throne room before it’s too late.

  The barrier has fallen, and their plans are in ruins.

  Jo’s chambers aren’t too far from the throne room, but with the halls filled with Merrow and soldiers, it feels like it’s miles away.

  Shea strengthens her stance and uses her core, thrusting her hands forward, turning her water into ice and stabbing two Lycon soldiers blocking her way with ten different icicles each.

  Jo slices through the one that got a jump on them from behind, taking off his sword hand with a particularly nasty blow before slicing his throat.

  Her silver armor is more red than gray now.

  Shea reaches out into her mind’s eyes, stepping inside Olympus to her room of doors. She goes to Poseidon’s connection touching the open doorway, and reaches into his magic. And then she just knows. He’
s in the throne room.

  She decides to do the same with Triton but when she touches his magic, all she feels is pain.

  She stumbles onto the ground and Jo shouts in surprise, reaching for her wife.

  “Shea!”

  “Jo!” Beck yells, as Caen and he catch up to them.

  Shea grips her forehead at the splitting agony, before a single word slips into her mind.

  Proteus.

  “Triton,” Shea gasps.

  She’s quick to stand. She winces as she tries to dissipate the headache.

  “What’s the matter with him?” Caen questions.

  “He’s in trouble. We have to find him.”

  “But what about Poseidon,” Caen argues.

  “Triton is the only one who can bring the fleet to Erebos. We have to save him. Poseidon can hold his own. I know it,” Shea mutters, hoping she’s right.

  But it really doesn’t matter if she isn’t because Triton is their only hope.

  “So, where is he?” Beck asks, scanning the halls in front and behind them for more attackers.

  “Proteus. I think he’s going to Thetis’s room for some reason.”

  “Maybe he thought his son was in trouble.” Jo’s eyes widen in horror.

  Shea shakes her head. “We need to go. Come on.”

  They race down the halls, taking a right instead of a left toward the throne room.

  Two Merrow jump them on their way.

  Beck blocks an attack with his steel short sword. He parries the Merrow’s thrusts, slamming his shoulder into the creature, throwing it off-kilter.

  Caen takes his hammer and bashes it into the still oncoming Merrow’s skull, while Jo runs it through.

  Shea sees a Lycon soldier coming their way, alerted by the noise. So, she whips her water around, flattening it like a knife, imagining a sharp razor as she searches for a weak link in his armor.

  When he throws his arm up to block the water with his blade, she maneuvers it around, impaling him through his armpit right into his heart.

  The guard crumples to the ground, his mouth open in a cry, but the sound that comes out is not his own.

  Shea jumps at the agonized scream. She whips around to find a Merrow who managed to attain the upper hand in his fight—and cut off Beck’s right sword arm at the elbow.

  Beck collapses to the ground, and the Merrow brings his blade up for the final stab, but he doesn’t make it.

  Shea’s body shakes with rage. Her blood is rushing again like the ocean in her ears, and her hand reaches out. She flings water out toward the Merrow, and it screams as she forces the liquid through the pores of its skin. She imagines tiny balls of lead zipping from one organ to another, ripping the creature up from the inside. It gurgles, and spews blood, as it coughs up its pulverized internal organs before collapsing on the ground.

  Shea can’t breathe.

  She can’t see beyond her fury, her magic pulsing, not ready to be put away.

  “I can feel you.”

  Perses’s voice breaks the spell, and her heart freezes in her chest.

  Jo’s and Caen’s voices filter through and when she looks up, she almost cries when she sees the frozen spears pointed at them both, about to run them through.

  “Oh gods,” Shea whispers, falling to her knees, and the ice spears shatter on the ground.

  “I’m sorry,” she mutters over and over as she crawls to Beck.

  He’s holding his bloodied stump, his eyes screwed shut and his face extremely pale.

  Shea reaches for her belt with shaking hands, knowing they need to make a tourniquet, but Caen’s belt is already there and he’s gathering Beck up into his arms while Jo soothes Shea.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay, we knew you’d stop,” Jo tells her, but Shea shakes her head.

  “I didn’t stop me, Jo. He did.”

  “Who?” Caen mutters, checking Beck’s pulse.

  Beck gasps and it’s like his soul has entered back into his body. He cries out at the pain, and he’s breathing so fast he’s going to pass out.

  “Beck. I know it hurts, man, I know, but I need you to stay with me okay. Stay with me. We need to find Triton and go.”

  “What about Poseidon?” Shea argues.

  “You said he could hold his own,” Caen snaps.

  “Yes, for now! Not indefinitely! I figured you’d be a bit more concerned, considering.”

  ​“Okay, both of you, zip it! We’re almost to Thetis’s room and we need to hurry,” Jo commands, staring at Beck in Caen’s arms.

  ​Beck groans in response, and the reality of the situation sinks in.

  They’re losing. They run the rest of the way down the hall and they’re just about to the guest door, when they turn the corner.

  ​Triton is lying on the ground. His shirt is open, and Thetis is standing over him. Her voice is enticing and full of magic as she whispers into his ear. She has a knife in her hand, and she drags the blade across his chest with a grin, enjoying the way Triton cries out.

  Shea searches for his bindings, anything to suggest he’s being held down, but there’s nothing visible.

  ​Nothing physical her mind supplies.

  Thetis’s amulet is glowing brightly, brighter than Shea has seen before, bloodred.

  Shea takes a step out into the open, stepping on a piece of rubble that crumbles under her foot, making noise.

  ​Thetis turns toward her, her eyes dark red. She straightens up with her knife in hand, leaving Triton unseeing on the floor.

  ​“Hello, Shea.”

  ​Shea growls, pulling the remaining water out of her flask, wrapping it around her hands and forearms.

  ​“Looks like I chose a different side.” Thetis shrugs.

  ​“Traitor,” Shea spits.

  ​Thetis laughs, high and familiar.

  ​“That’s rich coming from you. I begged you not to tell him, you promised me you wouldn’t, and the moment he figured out who could have brought down the barrier, he came to take my son…Just like I warned you he would!”

  ​“He came to protect him from his murderous, cold-hearted mother!”

  ​Thetis scoffs, sneering. “But then who will protect you?”

  ​“Oh, Thetis, I am way out of your league,” Shea drawls.

  ​Thetis screams in fury and Shea lets loose a battle cry as they storm toward each other.

  Shea swipes her hands down, slicing Thetis across the chest, and she screams out.

  She swipes her knife at Shea, and Shea slides back, slipping out of reach from the blade’s edge.

  ​Shea flips back, letting her water bending cushion her fall as Thetis comes lunging at her, but she shoots out her hand, blasting Thetis in the chest with a water column.

  ​Thetis hits the ground with a loud thump and before she can get up, Jo is there with a blade to her throat.

  ​“Ah, ah, ah.” Jo clicks her tongue in disapproval, forcing Thetis to remain on the ground.

  ​Caen slips out of hiding from around the corner with Beck in his arms. He’s holding his stump gingerly but with a lot more presence.

  ​Thetis scowls at Jo, turning her head to watch Caen as he places Beck down softly so he can look at Triton.

  ​Triton is staring up at the ceiling, with wide horrified eyes, his hands twitching on the floor as he stares unseeing, trapped in his mind.

  ​“Not medical,” Caen mutters, looking up at Shea.

  ​Beck looks over at Thetis and she meets his eyes with a coy grin.

  ​“Bad day?” she asks, gesturing to his arm.

  ​Beck huffs, “Fuck you, Thetis.”

  ​“Release him,” Shea orders.

  ​“No.”

  ​Shea gets up from where she made the blast and marches over to her. She straddles her waist, waving Jo away.

  ​But in her miscalculation, Thetis manages to grab her conch.

  Shea’s caught in that strange tide again, her breath escaping her, Thetis’s voice all-encompassing. She think
s she sees Jo fall to the ground, gasping for air, and there’s a loud thump, which Shea assumes is Caen as well.

  ​There’s a roaring in her ears, and Shea finally hears the voice clearly from the first time Thetis used her siren magic.

  ​“Shea…”

  ​Paetre.

  ​His voice is as distinct as a bell, and she can almost make out his form.

  ​“It’s okay, red. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

  ​He’s right.

  Shea’s so very tired. She doesn’t want to be hurt anymore.

  ​“It’ll all be okay. Don’t fight it, Shea. Don’t fight.”

  ​That roaring noise is getting louder, the sound of an ocean within her veins.

  She can feel herself on the cusp, her breaths coming shorter and shorter. But her blood is practically singing in her ears. Drowning out Paetre’s whispers.

  ​“Fight.”

  ​Her own voice echoes in the darkness.

  ​“Fight, Shea. Gods damn it all, fight for them!”

  ​Her eyes open.

  ​Thetis is smiling up at her, and then Shea meets her gaze and Thetis realizes she’s still in there.

  ​Shea cocks her head, and a thread of water wraps around Thetis’s throat, thin like a cord, and then tightens.

  ​Thetis’s eyes bulge as her air supply is cut off.

  ​Shea thinks she can hear Jo and Caen gasp for air, and Beck calls her name, but she pays them no mind. She has to protect them. She has to fight for them.

  ​She reaches for Thetis’s necklace and pulls it off with ease, staring at the shell like she’s really seeing it for the first time—and sees sand. Millions and millions of pieces of crystallized sand and then suddenly that’s what’s in her hand.

  ​She pours the sand out onto the ground, and a figure jolts up into a sitting position in her peripheral, shouting.

  Caen seems to calm the figure, so she decides he’s not a threat.

  Instead she focuses on Thetis’s red face, slowly turning purple. She runs a finger down the tan neck, feeling the blood rushing under her skin, like a ruby river.