Immortal's Spring (The Chrysomelia Stories)

by Molly Ringle

  Long-distance swimming remained one of his greatest joys. He set out on a swim to Euboia on an idyllic summer day when he was fifty-five. The water flowed like cool crystal around him, shimmering in all shades of blue from palest turquoise in the shallows to cobalt in the depths. The sun flashed white fire on the surface. Boaters near the mainland once again tried to rescue him as he swam in, and he declined. He rode the surf in to the rocky point. His feet met the bottom, and he waded onto shore. A steep hill rose up from the beach. A small temple, painted white, stood halfway up the slope among the pines.

  Poseidon waded into the tide pools. He squeezed water out of the linen loincloth he wore, and tilted his head to tap the water out of his ears.

  “Where did you swim from?”

  The question was demanding, and spoken by some female. He turned.

  She sat on a rock in the shade of a boulder, her legs in the water of the deepest tide pool. Her skirts, a grayer shade of the green-blue of the water, were tucked up around her thighs to keep them from getting wet. She was probably in her late teens, and he would have hesitated to call her “pretty,” given the unevenness of her nose, the thickness of her dark eyebrows, and the skinniness of her body. But her hair was beautiful, a sleek, loose fall of the darkest brown that glinted reddish around the crown of her head. And her eyes were arresting, some light color he couldn’t make out from where he stood, with a graceful curve to their upper lids.

  “Skyros,” he answered, and waded closer to her.

  She snorted. “No you didn’t.”

  “I did. I’m a strong swimmer.” He stepped into the next tide pool over from hers. Blue-gray with a hint of green, that was the color of her eyes. Like the sea in the shallows.

  “You can’t swim from Skyros. No one’s that strong a swimmer.”

  “I am. Besides, can’t you tell I’m from Skyros by my accent?”

  She circled one bare leg in the water. “I suppose. But you could have hopped from a boat just off the point and swum the rest of the way.”

  “You think I’m lying?” He pretended to be insulted.

  “Men lie all the time.”

  Now he snorted. He was likely three times her age; what did she know of such things?

  He jingled the pouch he had tied to his waist, containing minor pieces of bronzework—rings and chains that could be bartered for food or goods. “I’m off to buy lunch. Then I’ll come back here and swim away, and you can watch until I disappear over the horizon.”

  She flicked water at him with her toes. “Very well.”

  “Very well,” he returned, and strolled off barefoot toward the village that lay over the hill.

  ***

  “Amphitrite,” Liam said, into the contemplative quiet that fell after he explained his dream. “That’s who the girl was. I just know somehow.”

  Sophie felt a rush of poignancy, an echo of the feeling she had first experienced when Adrian brought her to the realization that they had shared love in the life before this one, and the life before that one, and the one before that…

  She smiled at her dazed little brother. “Pretty cool, dude.”

  “I married her, right?”

  “Yup,” Tab said.

  Eagerness rose in his face. “Who is she now?”

  The three women glanced at each other and shrugged.

  “Haven’t looked her up yet,” Zoe said. “But we can do.”

  “I bet Niko has.” Tab pulled out her phone. “Ah, crap. Cave. No reception. Hang on, I’ll run up to the surface and text him.”

  Liam sat still, gazing at the river as Tab jogged out. Though he was still his twelve-year-old self, skinny and out of proportion, with his muscles not having filled out over his fast-growing bones, he had a new depth of maturity in his dark eyes.

  “When did I marry Amphitrite?” he asked. “How did it turn out for us? Did Thanatos kill us right away, or did we live a long time, or what?”

  Sophie glanced again at Zoe, who had her brow furrowed as if trying to recall something she rarely thought about.

  “Well, I know you guys were married a long time,” Sophie said. “Longer than us; Hades and Persephone. What happened to you…I haven’t gotten there yet, honestly.” She shifted on the rocky riverbank, and tucked one ankle under the other. “I’ve kind of shut off the memories lately. I’m being a wuss. I haven’t gotten much past Persephone and Hades dying. Right now, I just can’t.”

  “I’ve not either.” Zoe sat up straighter and rolled her shoulders back. “But we should. We need to know how it went. How we all moved forward. Even though it means how we all eventually died.”

  The three of them chewed on that in silence a few seconds.

  “Maybe we can get the sum-up from one of the others, so it isn’t a shock,” Sophie said. “Niko or Adrian or Freya. They’ve had the memories longer; they already know.”

  “I’ve had sort of a sum-up from Adrian,” Zoe said. “But he’s had to piece some of it together secondhand, or from what we said to each other down here between other lives. Because he wasn’t personally there for some of it—some of my life, I mean. Hekate’s. Because…Hades and Persephone, they chose to be reborn.”

  A chill ran through Sophie—her usual reaction lately to anything startling—but it was followed by a rising warmth, a glow of…could it be hope? “Oh,” she said. “Then I really should look at what happened, shouldn’t I.”

  “He did say it was rather sweet, that next life,” Zoe said. “For the both of you. No life is perfect, but from what he said, it’s one you don’t have to be afraid of.”

  Sophie breathed inward, cherishing the glimmer of hope as it spread through her body. Life did go on. It always would. “Well then,” she said, lamely. “Okay.”

  Liam jumped to his feet. “I’m going to go tell Mom and Dad about the Poseidon stuff.”

  Good sign: Liam was excited enough that he was willing to discuss Poseidon with their dad again, even after the horrifying revelation that they’d been involved in a very Greek-mythology kind of way. Sophie rose. “Wait up. I’ll come too.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Messing with Mars & Petal. Our policy? b/c I really want to mess with them, Adrian texted Niko. Mars was their code name for Krystal; Petal for Landon.

  It was New Year’s Eve and he had just left New Zealand and arrived in spirit-realm North America, near the house in eastern Washington where Krystal was staying. She was the only one he could sense among Thanatos, though if he caught any other members by chance he’d happily mess with them too. Dawn had begun to lighten the clear sky, and an icy wind tore across the rolling brown land and worked its fingers into his coat. Kiri, lying across his feet on the floor of the bus, looked up at him with patiently suffering eyes.

  “Sorry,” he told her. “I know. New Zealand was comfier.” He pulled out an extra blanket from under the seat and spread it over her.

  A text buzzed in from Niko. I admit I’ve messed w/ them a little. Good to keep them nervous, I reckon.

  Like what? Adrian responded. Sending some msg? I was thinking of that.

  I went with a message, yes. But then you have to stay away a few days afterward as they’ll be looking for you.

  What msg did you send? Adrian asked. You didn’t tell us.

  Nothing much. Just something to scare Petal. Suppose you could do the same to Mars.

  Yes. I plan to.

  Adrian tucked away his phone and got up. Best do this now, before everyone here started waking up, and before he lost hold of the fury-driven courage blazing in him.

  Kiri rose too, and shook off the blanket with reluctance. She gazed at him, awaiting instruction.

  “No, lie down,” he told her. “You stay.”

  It was quite possible he’d get shot at, and he didn’t want Kiri to get hit. Even though she was immortal, there was no need to put her through the pain. He hadn’t liked it one bit the time a Thanatos goon had shot her in the head, even though she’d quickly recovered.


  She slid back down to her resting position. He draped the blanket over her. “Good girl.”

  He moved to the back of the bus and opened a metal storage box welded to the floor. From it he took the pieces of body armor he had lately bought, a grim Christmas present to himself. He put on the helmet and vest, which were thick and heavy enough to make him feel like a cop on riot duty. Or an astronaut. But they should also be enough to keep a bullet from taking him out too easily again. This was merely a mischief errand, definitely not worth risking his life or rendering him a hostage.

  He buttoned up his coat over the vest and lowered the clear shield of the helmet. He walked through the frozen scrub until reaching the spot where Krystal’s presence resonated. That obnoxious chord of Ares’ personality now sang louder than he liked, the only familiar soul around for a long stretch.

  She was above him, likely a second-story room. He considered for a moment, then jogged back to the bus and unstrapped the stepladder he had packed into the cargo space. He carried it back to the house’s location, set it up, and climbed it.

  Her presence glimmered in the mortal realm a half-meter or so to his right.

  Taking his chances, he switched realms.

  The ladder vanished and he fell—fortunately only a tiny distance. He ended up sprawled on hands and knees on a carpeted floor, in a quiet bedroom that felt luxuriously warm after the outdoor air. He crouched low, glancing around. He saw no one in the room except Krystal asleep in bed. Her red hair splashed across the pillow, and she snored softly. It was six a.m. The house was silent; the other inhabitants were probably still sleeping too.

  Adrian rose and tiptoed to the mirror over the dresser. He had brought a dry-erase marker, but when his gaze fell on a tube of lipstick on the dresser’s cluttered surface, he reckoned it was more intimidating to use that instead.

  With his gloved hand he uncapped the lipstick and scrawled on the mirror in the largest letters that would fit:

  MURDERER

  THE UNDERWORLD

  WILL CLAIM YOU

  SOON

  He put down the lipstick, took out his phone, and snapped a photo of his message.

  CLICK. For some reason, the volume was way up on his phone, and the snapshot sound was like an alarm clock in the silence. He froze, watching Krystal in the mirror.

  Her snores halted. She shifted, her eyes still closed. Then they opened, and faster than he could have thought possible in an injured person who had just woken up, she whipped a gun out from under her pillow and pointed it at him.

  He hit the floor. The shot, ear-splittingly loud, blew a hole in the wall beside the mirror.

  Time to go.

  He switched realms and plummeted through frigid air into a prickly bush. He rolled out of it, dusted himself off, and sat on the frozen ground, watching the bright sunrise and waiting out the adrenaline rush until it subsided.

  He allowed himself a smile as he imagined the chaos surely erupting in that house right now. But his smile faded as he reflected how pathetic it was that delivering a ghoulish message to someone he hated was the most fun he’d had lately.

  ***

  “Really, Krystal.” Erick Tracy frowned at her. “You could have killed poor Jim, you know.”

  She was back in bed after her shooting spree, sitting up and glaring at Tracy, Landon, and Jim Farnell, the worried homeowner and host. “There was a fucking intruder!” she said. “One of them! Check the security cameras!”

  “We did,” Jim said. “They don’t cover the inside of your room, you know that. They show there was no one in the hall, or outside the house.”

  “Well, he found a way in,” Krystal said. “Straight from the other dimension or whatever. Hello! It’s possible.”

  “Look,” Tracy said. “I can’t prove they aren’t coming after the pair of you. But I also can’t prove they are.”

  “He wrote a goddamn message.” Krystal swept her arm toward the mirror.

  “Krystal, you’re on painkillers. Strong ones.” Tracy picked up the bottle of oxycodone from the dresser’s top and rattled the pills. “You could have written it, acting under those, half asleep.”

  She gritted her teeth. “It. Was. Not. Me. I saw him!”

  Landon touched one of the bullet holes in the wall. There were three near the mirror, and another in the floor. He knelt to look at it, then looked up at Tracy like a puppy seeking assurance from its mother. “They’ve messed with me too. This same kind of thing. I think they’re finding ways to get to the two of us. Because we…because of Sophie’s family.”

  Tracy sighed. “Again, it sounds as if we cannot prove such a thing. But, all right, if they’ve figured out where we are, then let’s move house. It’s going to cause further delay in our plans for Europe, but I see you’re going to be causing delay over and over if we don’t move.”

  “Thank you,” Landon said.

  “Fine,” Krystal snapped.

  Tracy looked about at the bullet holes, shook his head, and walked out of the room. He had arrangements to make, now mundane domestic ones as well as the grander ones for their expedition. Landon, though still the titular head of operations, had allowed Tracy to take charge of their European mission, since Tracy had been the one to get hold of the enemy documents. In order to make such arrangements, Tracy also needed access to the financial accounts controlled by Thanatos, and Landon had given up the electronic passwords for those too after only the weakest hesitation.

  Tracy was fast becoming the most important person in the organization, if he wasn’t already. But it meant he had more than enough to do, even with the help of the others. For example, they needed to locate pilots within the organization to fly them to Europe, so they wouldn’t have to go through the highly trackable commercial airline system. Once they got to Europe they needed places to stay, personnel, supplies, and weapons. And they had to make sure all these arrangements were made with as little trace as possible. He suspected their emails and texts were occasionally being read—though how, he wasn’t sure—so when communicating electronically, they all used codes, along with in-person meetings and calls from different phones whenever possible.

  Then there was the sorcerer. Tenebra. Tracy had never met her, only heard of her. But if he could get her on their side, they stood a much better chance of obliterating the unnaturals. However, even locating her and being granted a meeting with her was proving a challenge of epic-quest proportions.

  Meanwhile his team was going mental. What a headache. At least he now had Yuliya and her willing sensuality to relax him at night.

  To be honest, yes, Tracy did suspect the immortals had found out who Landon and Krystal were, and that they might have been dropping in on those two from time to time to meddle with their peace of mind. Tracy would do the same if he were them. But that only made Thanatos’ mission more imperative.

  And if the immortals kept tracking down Krystal and Landon over and over, no matter where they were moved—well, Tracy wouldn’t rock the boat by telling them so, but in that case Thanatos was much better off cutting its ties with the both of them. He could achieve the glory of conquering the immortals quite well without them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Listening to Liam tell his stories of the young life of Poseidon did boost Sophie’s mood a little. He seemed more determined than ever to become immortal. But then, that had never been in question for him. Of course he’d leap at the chance. He was twelve; who wouldn’t at that age?

  So if he was going to eat the orange when it ripened—in probably just a couple of months now—she had to think hard about whether she would eat it too. On the one hand, invincibility and getting to join her friends and brother for as long as they were allowed to live. On the other, becoming a more central target to Thanatos than ever. Because maybe if she stayed mortal and renounced all ties to the immortals, they would consent to leave her alone. Didn’t seem likely, but maybe.

  It also didn’t seem likely that becoming immortal would make her happy, th
ough. So. No easy answers yet.

  It was New Year’s Eve. Adrian had just texted her along with Zoe, Niko, Freya, Liam, and Tab. Got into Mars’ room was his message accompanying the photo of the lipstick scrawl.

  As ever, her stomach clenched at the sight of his name, and even more so at the photo. It was partly the danger of his being in Krystal’s room, and of inciting the woman with such a gesture. But what also disturbed her was the vicious longing for vengeance that arose inside her. She almost wanted to answer, Why didn’t you strangle her while you were there? That’s what I really want.

  Except she didn’t really want that. Well, sometimes she did. Then her sanity caught her from thinking such things. Over and over; that was how her day generally went.

  While she thought about how to answer, the others responded.

  My, aren’t we dramatic, Niko texted.

  Sweet!! Liam texted.

  Nice, Zoe answered. “Claim,” really Ade?

  I know, Adrian texted back. But I thought it was more Hades-ish or something.

  Is that fuchsia lipstick? Tab texted. Ugh, that would look awful with her hair.

  Srsly, Freya agreed.

  Finally Sophie responded, to him and the rest of the group: Thanks. I hope it rattles them.

  Don’t know if it’ll help, Adrian answered in a minute. But had to try something.

  Should set them scurrying to fuss abt their house security instead of focusing on latest nefarious plan, Niko answered. So, good.

  They let the thread end there. At nightfall, Tab strolled up to Sophie, who was visiting her parents’ souls. “Hey, girl,” Tab greeted. “We were thinking of switching over and staying local, seeing how they celebrate in Greece.”

  Beyond her, near the river, stood Liam and Zoe. They both waved in encouragement.