The woman might not look so diminutive if it weren’t for the figure next to her.
Poseidon.
I go rigid as he hefts himself onto the larger of the two thrones.
His face stretches far to either side, balancing out his wide shoulders. His chest is entirely bare, showing hardened muscles beneath a cloak draped over his shoulders. Jagged shark teeth line every edge of the cloak, clinking together as he moves. But the thing that draws my attention most is the blue iridescent trident in his hand. It stretches taller than he is, ending in three sharp points.
His crown consists of five live seahorses interspersed with starfish holding themselves regally above his dark hair. The seahorses’ tails curl around a thin gold circlet, and their snouts point upward like trumpets.
Beneath them, Poseidon’s eyes catch my attention. There’s something odd about them. The longer I stare, the harder it is to figure out. It’s like they’re changing, altering, as if made of moving water that pulsates with the tide.
I try to think how to greet him. Bowing? Or is that too human?
Thankfully, the clam at my feet hops forward. It clears its throat, or at least makes a noise resembling the sound. “I present the most honorable King Poseidon, King of the Ocean, Ruler of the Seas, stronger than the tides and controller of the trident, and his wife, Queen Amphitrite, Queen of the Ocean, Countess of Coral, more amiable than an angelfish and wiser than the waves themselves.”
I decide to risk curtseying, so I step forward and present myself. When I rise, I say, “I’m Princess Kora of Lagonia, and I present Captain—”
“Your names are of no importance to me,” Poseidon interjects, “just as you are of no importance to me, land princess.” He spits out the last two words as if they were poison. “Now, as you drown, you can tell me why my son has sent you to defile my palace.” As he says the words, he twirls his finger and water begins to gurgle upward from the floor. It slowly covers my feet, creeping closer and closer to my ankles.
My eyes jump to Royce’s as my heart leaps into my throat. Poseidon’s going to kill us.
Royce splashes toward where we entered, and I race after him. We skid to a stop as the entrance seals itself, becoming a solid wall full of fish like all the others. Royce presses against it with both hands, but all it does is send ripples through the room.
He tries ramming his shoulder into it but bounces off.
I run to another part of the wall and shove against it again and again. The fish cluster in closer in reponse, as if they don’t want to miss the show. But no matter how many times I try, the wall is impenetrable.
“Temptresses,” I scream, pounding on the wall in the hopes they’ll hear me. But if they do, they don’t appear.
“Oh, I love it when they struggle,” Poseidon says, relaxing back in his throne.
I stagger back and scan the room, but there’s no other opening. Even the one Posiedon had entered through is gone. I run my hand through my hair as I try to think, but my heart is thudding so loudly I can barely concentrate over the sound.
Added to that is a small voice chanting, “Drown. Drown. Drown.”
I spot the clam’s shells opening and closing in time with the words, and I resist the urge to kick it. I don’t have time to waste because the water is already at my calves. And I’m quickly running out of ideas.
I consider trying to turn Poseidon to gold, but I doubt he’ll let me close enough, and even if he did, I can’t guarantee that’ll stop the water rising. The only weapon I have left is my words.
“We’ve come because we’re trying to stop—” I try to say, but Poseidon cuts me off.
He leers forward in his throne. “I don’t care what you’re trying to stop. I asked why Triton sent you here. He always wants something from me, and one of the few delights I have left beside my ocean is denying him what he wants. So tell me”—he creaks back in his chair—“what is it he’s after this time?”
“Triton sent us to negotiate his freedom,” I say, trying not to think about the fact that if I don’t negotiate for that, I’m equally as dead back at his palace as I might soon be here. “But it’s because we’re trying to reach—”
“Ha!” Poseidon cancels me out again with his booming voice. “If I wanted to grant him his freedom, he would stand before me and not you. His request is denied, and I’ll show him what happens to those he sends to make requests of me on his behalf.”
The water rises closer to my thighs as seconds tick by.
Royce trudges through the water to join me. “If you gave him another chance—” he starts to say, but Poseidon cuts him off with a sharp glare.
“He’s been imprisoned for unforgivable crimes against the ocean, and I will not release him. What he did . . .” Poseidon trails off and clenches his hands around the arms of his throne, splintering several seashells under the pressure as his face turns as red as the fiery coral in his courtyard.
I bite my cheek as I risk a glance at Royce. Worry stains his brow as he purses his lips. I know he must be wondering what I’m wondering: What could Triton have done that’s so terrible, that could incite such hatred in his own father?
Something ignites inside me. Humans. Poseidon hates humans. And the Temptresses, the ones Triton created, were once humans. That has to be it.
“The Temptresses—” I say, turning back to Poseidon as the water laps at the top of my thighs. “We know how to destroy them.”
“Don’t even mention those creatures again,” Poseidon snaps. “Those things are the least of his treason, but they’re another reason he shouldn’t be set free. For I’ll not have him polluting my ocean with more of his mistakes—with more of those humans bringing their hatred down into my seas with them.” He bristles, making the sharks’ teeth trimming his cloak gleam brighter. “In fact, I should imprison my son longer for what I went through with Zeus as a result of Triton creating his little playthings. My own brother accused me of trying to steal his humans. As if I’d want any of you disgusting little creatures in my ocean.” His words get louder and louder, and his body rises with it. He bolts upright from his throne, and the fish in the walls scatter toward the far end as he points the trident’s prongs at us. “All you humans do is pollute, pollute, pollute. You litter your sunken ships across my sea floor. You send your dead away in boats to rot in my waters. You even threw Medusa’s head into my waters, turning countless fish to stone and causing even more to be eaten by those disgusting snakes on her head as they wiggled free to grow into more gorgons. You—you—” He leans in closer, and the water rises more rapidly, swirling up around my torso before heading straight for my collarbones. “Your kind is a plague that infects my waters, and you should stay on the land where Zeus put you.”
His wife gently puts an arm on his until he drops heavily back onto his throne.
“Why don’t you turn the Temptresses back into humans and set them free?” Royce ventures. “That would take care of the problem.”
I nod encouragingly, hoping maybe that would redeem Triton even a little in his father’s eyes. Because if we don’t figure out a way to do that soon, we’re not going to make it. The water is already twirling around my throat. Soon, I’ll have to swim to stay above it.
Poseidon’s lips tighten. “Because it’s not my magic that made them Temptresses. It’s Dionysus’s. Because Triton couldn’t be trusted to take one simple message to that—to that cursed island of his without entering into a bet that nearly cost me my ocean.” Poseidon’s arms shake from gripping the throne so tightly. “And my worthless son should be grateful I let him live anywhere close to my waters. So your plea is denied, and your sentence is death for daring to trespass here.”
The water surges upward, and Royce and I tumble around as we shoot toward the ceiling. My hands slam into the top, and I kick to stay above the waterline.
“Hold on,” Royce shouts as he pounds at the ceiling. But it has no effect. He cries out and pounds harder.
I join him, smashing my
hands against the wall until they go numb. Still, it doesn’t give.
The water continues upward, lapping at the edges of my lips as it hastens to fill the final few inches. I press my face up against the ceiling and gulp in air while I still can, all the while, my mind swirling, refusing to believe it’s going to end this way, that Dionysus will win.
Dionysus.
Triton had said Poseidon hated him too, and Poseidon had all but confirmed it moments ago. It’s what I’d been trying to tell him about when he’d cut me off earlier.
“We’re trying to destroy Dionysus,” I cry as the water swallows my head. Bubbles escape my lips as I thrash beneath the water.
Royce’s hair fans out around him as he continues to struggle, to slam his fist into the ceiling.
And just when I think it’s over, there’s a loud whooshing noise, and I plummet downward. I land on the hard pearl floor gasping for breath as the rest of the water drains around me.
Next to me, Royce coughs, emptying his lungs as he climbs to his feet.
“You’re trying to destroy Dionysus?” Poseidon questions.
“Yes,” I reply, sucking in air as I struggle to my knees before rising to my feet.
“Why?”
“He . . . he”—it takes me a moment to catch my breath—“he means to destroy my kingdom and release the Titans.” I relate what the Oracle told me about Dionysus making a bet to win her knowledge, a bet he is very close to winning. “So you see,” I say, a new line of thought forming in my mind, “that means more ships sinking into your sea and more dead bodies clogging the waves—your waves—if the world goes to war.”
Poseidon relaxes back into his throne and steeples his fingers under his chin, resting his trident in the crook of his arm. “I’d heard rumors Dionysus was looking for knowledge about Tartarus, but I thought those had died out centuries ago—that Zeus had put an end to it.”
He drums his fingers against the shaft of the trident, clearly thinking for a moment. “I promised my brother I would keep his child safe and allow his island safe passage on my ocean. But that was before I knew what he’d become and how he’d use that island as a haven for the humans he twists into his own creations. And as much as I wanted to destroy his island after what my son did, I couldn’t without risking Zeus’s wrath, but”—his eyes take on a darker tone, like a storm at sea—“that doesn’t mean I couldn’t help you find your way there to do the job. But what makes you think you’re a match for him?”
“She has powers,” Royce offers. “She can turn things to gold.”
Poseidon waves his words away. “You think that makes you more powerful than the one who gave you that power? Foolish human.” He strangles his fingers around his trident.
My chest tightens, knowing we’re mere moments from water filling the room again if we can’t come up with an answer, with some bit of knowledge that will convince him I can go up against Dionysus and win.
That’s it. Knowledge. Or more precisely, wisdom.
“We passed the Oracle’s tests to gain an audience with her,” I say. “She wouldn’t have sent us onward, guided us here to you, if she didn’t see that a favorable outcome was possible because she doesn’t want the Titans freed anymore than you do.” Maybe that was stretching the truth a little. The Oracle had never said as much, but I needed to believe it was true as much for my own benefit as for convincing Poseidon.
Poseidon absently runs his thumb up and down his trident.
“It won’t be long until Dionysus comes after you with those Titans,” Royce prompts, pushing back several hairs plastered across his face.
I hold my breath, waiting, as my eyes search Poseidon’s face for any sign our words have swayed him.
Slowly, a twisted grin crosses his face, displaying gleaming teeth that remind me far too much of a shark’s. “Who better to destroy Dionysus than one of his deceitful schemes finally come back to haunt him?” He pounds his fists against the arms of his throne. “I’ll get him out of my ocean at last.”
I exhale. But my relief is short lived because that’s only half our battle. If we don’t get Triton’s freedom, it doesn’t matter if Poseidon lets us go. But I don’t know how to broach the subject without setting Poseidon off again.
“So you’ll lead us to Jipper?” Royce asks.
Poseidon scoffs. “I don’t take humans anywhere, but”—he wags his finger—“I know exactly who can take you there—someone who needs to learn a little humility of his own, someone who if he wants to continually cohort with your kind can finally see what it’s like to be ruled by you. Triton.”
My stomach drops, and I share a look with Royce. We both know Triton won’t go anywhere unless his freedom is part of the deal.
“Will you let him go free if he leads us there?” I ask.
“No.” Poseidon’s voice booms around the room.
Queen Amphitrite again places her hand on her husband’s, but this time she speaks as well. “Let’s not be too hasty. Let’s hear them out.” Her voice is high and melodic, like seashells clinking together against the shore.
They both turn their attention to us expectantly. But I can’t think of anything to say.
“Perhaps Triton could prove himself,” Royce supplies, and I shoot him a grateful look.
“How do you propose he do that?” Queen Amphitrite replies, once more resting her hands lightly in her lap.
“He could prove he’s changed,” Royce says. “That he’s learned his lesson by leading us to Jipper and resisting entering into another bet. He’d be doing his part to take down Dionysus and make amends for the harm he caused you.”
“Yes,” I add, thoughts filling my head. “And surely making him travel with poor, helpless humans is enough of a punishment—enough to earn him his freedom.”
Poseidon’s brow scrunches, and his eyes are as unreadable as the ocean at twilight.
“Not to mention this might be your best chance at stopping Dionysus and teaching your son the lesson he deserves.” I let the words hang in the air between us as Poseidon tosses his trident from hand to hand.
Finally, he nods slowly. “If he leads you to Jipper and manages to stay out of trouble, I’ll let him go free. But I’ll be watching, and if he doesn’t prove himself or if he gets into trouble or enters into any bets, my retribution will be swift.”
Royce and I both nod.
Poseidon slouches against the back of his throne. “Now leave before I change my mind, and never return here.” He clangs his trident against the ground and the doorway we’d entered through reopens.
The clam looks tight-lipped as it turns and hops back toward the entrance, once again expecting us to follow. I linger a moment, taking a breath and trying to absorb everything that just happened. But I don’t stay long because what I’d thought had been walls holding back the fish had really been some sort of magic. With a flick of Poseidon’s trident, the water swooshes inward, washing over the dais and filling up the room. It splashes together from both sides like curtains being drawn across. As the first portions collide, they form a barrier between Poseidon and us.
More and more waves crash together, slowly making their way toward where Royce and I stand. The freed fish huddle in groups and stare at me.
“Come on,” Royce says, pulling me from the room as the water whooshes closer.
The clam leads us back the way we’d come, and I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. Behind us, the throne room is entirely filled with water. It didn’t even cross my mind that Poseidon had probably only created a momentary air pocket for our sakes.
The next room we pass through fills with water the instant we exit over the threshold into the next one.
“Sadly, you may leave,” the clam says. It’s led us to the front of the palace. Outside, the ocean fills the doorway that’s opened there. Through it, I spot the two Temptresses waiting. They’re chasing and terrorizing the fish in the coral gardens, but when they spy us in the entryway, they swim over and wait with their arms cro
ssed.
“Swim out whenever you’re ready,” one of them says.
“As stated, King Poseidon kindly requests that you never return here,” the clam adds. “And if you do, you will be drowned. Now you must leave.”
Water seeps in through the walls.
“Let’s go,” Royce says. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the Temptresses. I suck in a breath right before we break into the ocean.
“I hope you had a pleasant visit,” one of the Temptresses says, swimming toward me with no rush. She circles around me once before twirling around to face me. “Because Triton doesn’t like bad news.”
Her arms wrap around me, and we speed toward the surface. I can’t tell if the sudden lurch of my stomach is from the change in direction or from the Temptress’s words.
CHAPTER 14
I collapse against Triton’s floor gasping for breath. The Temptresses had taken their sweet time dodging the guardian sharks and bursting through the waterfall walls.
Before I can recover my breath, a face appears above me.
“Am I free to go?” Triton asks, cocking one eyebrow.
I shove off the floor and rise to my knees. Next to me, Royce sputters and sits up.
Hettie and Rhat wait on the far side of the room. Hettie looks paler than when we’d left. She’s still cradling her injured arm against her stomach while the other doesn’t seem to have left her sword hilt.
Rhat looks as ready to leave as I feel. He jumps every time a sea creature glides through the watery walls.
Triton apparently has no idea what personal space is—or manners—because I get an eyeful of his sculpted abdomen as I struggle to my feet.
“Well?” he asks when I’m upright. “Am I free or not?”
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