“Stomachs of the hardest bronze you two have!” Evagoria lectured. As Adamarcus and Taharqa continued to swap, spit, and swoon, she just stared at them. So focused on ridding their tongues of a taste they moments ago had declared delicious, neither Centaur even bothered to look her way.
Evagoria turned back to Persepolis who now finally met her gaze. “Good thing I didn’t tell them what they were really eating,” she whispered. She gently held his giggling head in her hands so he could not look from her again. “For two days, Father searched the outlying farms for the plumpest, most delicious one – just for you! Locked in a stable not far away, this condemned boar awaits your hungered arrival.”
“Thank you, Princess,” Persepolis gasped. “Thank you!”
In glorious anticipation of every Arachna’s favorite prey, Persepolis marched in place before unhitching Evagoria’s walking sticks from the holder on her back. He then handed them to her and they began to make their way for the exit. Not getting far, Evagoria halted and spun around – the queasy Centaurs were still where she had left them. With a rushed sigh, Persepolis now dashed behind Adamarcus and Taharqa. Suddenly a plow horse that drew great strength from his rumbling stomach, he pushed them in Evagoria’s direction.
Just as the quartet was about to exit the marketplace, the Yeturi blew its bellowing horn. Although there was a great deal of chatter among those still inside, it was loud enough for everyone in the bazaar to hear clearly.
“Every time I leave the square,” Evagoria shouted over the claps of those greatly amused, “that fiend blows its horn in the same whimsical manner. Almost as if announcing my departure.”
The four friends peeked back one last time through the sea of Mermaids cheering their satisfaction. To Evagoria’s surprise, the Yeturi now looked straight at them with wounded eyes. Taken aback by this sad stare, she suddenly felt sorry for it.
“That’s wonderful,” Persepolis blurted as he pushed his friends up the ramp and out of the marketplace. “Time to go!”
*****
Was he a sugar-starved youngling ready to gobble up a stack of sweets as tall as he was? A ravenous Gryphon eyeing wounded prey?
In this Mermaid’s eyes, Persepolis embodied both!
Persepolis now began to shake with giddy delight as the large barn came within view. Drops of drool oozed off fangs that pointed in the right direction but curved in the other.
On the way, Evagoria had told Adamarcus and Taharqa of the poor animal unaware of its pending doom. They shared mischievous smiles Evagoria found queer, but she did not bother to ask why. A horse-drawn carriage she rode in to this point parked, she exited, pulled out her walking sticks, and the four now traveled along a cobblestone pathway that weaved through a manicured garden. One of hundreds scattered about Atagartis, an elegant fountain carved from granite dominated this tranquil space. Once at the end of the path, with Persepolis in the lead and the Centaurs in the rear, they entered the handsome barn.
“Finally,” Persepolis crowed, “it’s dinner time.”
“More like show time,” Adamarcus whispered. Evagoria overheard this and shot him and Taharqa a questioning look, but Persepolis appeared not to have heard them.
A portly boar just as clueless as it was juicy wandered about the corner of an oversized stable. Once Persepolis hurriedly stepped inside, Evagoria then closed the windowless door behind him. He was now free to hunt the helpless boar in the private setting she knew he desired.
She spun around – her blank stare met two gawking ones. Four hands to the air in protest and wide-open mouths, Evagoria suddenly realized Adamarcus and Taharqa very much did not desire such privacy for Persepolis. But it was her birthday and she could do as she wished. And what Evagoria wished for was the exact opposite of what she had initially led them to believe. She let out a sly smirk. In return, a lively flicker now bounced about the eyes of the two Centaurs. With a single finger over this grin, she beckoned them to follow. They did so and the trio snuck up an inclined walkway Evagoria was sure Persepolis had failed to notice.
Once they reached the second floor of the barn, she pointed to a number of long, thin vertical cracks in a wooden wall. Each quickly picked one. The three concealed onlookers now enjoyed a perfect view of their motionless friend and unwitting boar in the stable below.
The boar wandered just a couple of pike lengths away from Persepolis. After a flurry of grunts, it then looked straight at its ‘stable mate’ with a dopy stare. Taking into account its sharp tusks and ugly appearance, to Evagoria, it looked rather dangerous. Fangs dripping in anticipation of this sweetest of meats – for the hungered killer ready to strike, not one bit. The mindless wild pig really had about as much of a chance as did a giant panda against an Arctodus bear. In a motion quicker than the gods could imagine, Persepolis sprang upon the now squealing boar with outstretched legs and buried both fangs into its fat-filled side.
“Wow,” Evagoria drawled. From the day she was born, others taught her that no creature alive possessed the quickness of a Gryphon. This day seeking to throw off the yoke of the prejudices of the West, she had just learned differently.
Persepolis quickly wrapped his legs around the unlucky hog. Evagoria could ‘feel’ the silent excitement of Adamarcus and Taharqa, but her entranced eyes did not allow her to look their way.
“One fang to pierce the heart, the other skewering a lung,” she recalled from one of her teachings, “this perfect placement of fangs is what an Arachna seeks when it springs upon its prey.”
With a gasping squeal and a few harmless quivers from each leg and unkempt tail, Persepolis’ next meal lay dead. As far as Evagoria could tell, Persepolis had killed this boar in the exact same way Zarathustra said he should have. Steady streams of blood steadily oozing out of where Persepolis’ fangs still clamped – it was time to feed.
Adamarcus and Taharqa simply wanted to see a good show. Evagoria curious as well, she now felt something more. And a great deal more powerful. Until this moment convinced she would starve to death if others did not hunt and prepare her food, she no longer thought this. To see Persepolis snuff out this animal’s life intrigued her. Excited her. And morbidly so.
Having never killed anything with a heartbeat nor ever longing to until this very moment, Evagoria now imagined herself in Persepolis’ place. That it was she who had struck down this wild hog. He had killed the boar for need. Evagoria loved the thought of doing so only to satisfy a whim. To end something’s life – or someone’s – simply because it would please her was something she suddenly wanted to do.
Her birthmark burned as if set aflame. Evagoria brought her hands together. They glowed and the sound they made as she separated them was as if a blade softly scraped against stone. It was a bright glow, but she hid it well. It was a sharp sound, but not a loud one. Evagoria gripped tight in each hand the twin bronze-made daggers; she then glanced at the two Centaurs unaware of her torment. Lying in wait as had Persepolis and ready to strike, the haunting words of an exchange Evagoria had listened in on while she snuck about the palace just days before spring studies began now pranced about her troubled mind.
*****
“The boundless will of Desdessandra runs especially strong in you, granddaughter,” Cassiopeia said in a hushed voice, “but is nary a trickling stream compared to the rushing river that courses through Evagoria. You know this, yes?”
“I do,” Diedrika answered as if these words excited her. “And I very much look forward to the day she sets it free.”
Cassiopeia laughed in that pompous, sarcastic way only she could.
“Be careful what you wish for, Diedrika. The day is fast approaching when we are going to get it. Once the first crack in her merciful shell shows, a power greater than either of us can imagine will beg her to unleash it. This shell thick and strong as granite in her early years, as the throne draws near, it will grow ever thinner, ever more brittle.”
“My Evagoria, our Gift from Poseidon,” Diedrika said softly, “her pu
rpose in this world is greater than that of any Mermaid ever born. And because of this, I trust her even more than I trust myself. No matter how badly such power blinds her, when the time comes, Evagoria will do what she must.”
“Ah, yes – ‘when the time comes’,” Cassiopeia repeated slowly. “Every Mermaid and Gryphon alive will prepare like mad for it, but never be ready. We will do all we can to control it, but only one can do so. Evagoria alone must determine what becomes of this grand power that now lies in wait, but for how much longer it will remain content to do so is a prediction none can make. Our next queen helpless to stop the bubbling malice from someday revealing itself to all; once it does so, of which path she chooses will decide not only her fate, but the fate of us all. She will rule this budding inferno and become its master,” Cassiopeia’s voice turned from hopeful to grave, “or toil in utter misery as its slave.” After a deep breath, her voice steadied a bit, but awestruck fear kept its grip around every word. “In the end, Diedrika, it might not be unquenchable power that blinds, but unbreakable chains that bind.”
*****
Tears rushed into Evagoria’s eyes. The light and dark shapes of Adamarcus and Taharqa blurring into memories awash in color reminded her why she adored them. She set her forehead against the wooden wall and took in a flurry of deep breaths. Next, Evagoria set the daggers down without a sound and shook her head at such shameful thoughts. The weapons quickly turned to dust. Bronze-making was a great gift, but much like the magic Marseea and Penthesilea still wielded, its impulsive nature could get you into just as much trouble as it could get you out of.
Evagoria’s spine began to shiver and her hands shook wildly – was this the first crack in that merciful shell?
Thrust into and hurtling through an abyss of despair, Evagoria raised her head and again locked onto Persepolis. He still hungrily fed on his boar. The quirky slurping and sucking sounds he made as if a dinner tune he sang to himself, to hear this ‘music’ made Evagoria smile. Even her birthmark no longer burned.
Who would have thought that the sounds of a life taking another could lead her out of the hurtful abyss the sight of it had thrown her down?
Evagoria came up behind Adamarcus and Taharqa. “Well, shows over,” she said quietly. Her voice cracked a bit as her thoughts still dwelled on the will to dominate others, but she fought to push them away. As if the show they had long waited for was finally about to start not end, Adamarcus and Taharqa shot her equally stunned looks.
“You don’t mean to …” Evagoria wondered aloud, careful to keep her voice down. “Seriously? Upon learning that you are eating perfectly good elephant seal meat, you both act as if poisoned – as if death is upon you – and yet you eagerly wish to watch Persepolis turn his prey into … into soup?” Heads nodding back stupidly left her stunned.
Adamarcus and Taharqa spun away from Evagoria to resume their spying. Both shook with excitement as they watched Persepolis begin to liquefy the tasty insides of the boar. No one left to meet her gaze, Evagoria pointed her bewildered stare downward.
That these two fools believed they were acting rationally bugged Evagoria, yet such silliness endeared her to them even more. She threw her best scowl at their backs, but behind this frown cracked an envious grin. In spite of the morbid thoughts that had just taunted her, Evagoria could not inflict actual cruelty on another – this was true for now at least. Still, their tomfoolery deserved punishment. To deliver it, she would have to fess up to a tiny, white lie. She raised her head high and worked up her best pout. Of course, no one could mimic the infamous pout of her mother, but Evagoria gave it her best effort.
“Remember the elephant seal meat I said was of the male’s snout?” she asked in a voice so shady the two Centaurs had to have felt its cold.
With an eerie slowness, both turned around. Adamarcus’ face painted in fear, Taharqa’s face sketched in horror; it warmed her insides to see them now cringe at what revelation might come next. Evagoria leaned in close and whispered. She then backed away and a sly smile wiped away her pout. The creepiest silence wafting about these dual statues to let her ghastly words sink in – they sprang to life. With watery eyes, both keeled over in tandem. Next, they dropped to their knees and the bottoms of their mouths followed right behind.
“The bucket, the bucket, where is that bucket?” Taharqa gagged.
“I left it below,” Adamarcus choked.
Both looked into their upturned, bone-dry canteens as if their souls lay deep inside. “Water … water.…” Unsure as what to do next, they looked about wildly.
Evagoria waited a few moments to admire her handiwork. She then turned and glided away. About to begin down the angled walkway, she twisted her head to her right. “I’ll be waiting by the fountain outside when you jokers are finished,” she called back in a motherly tone.
To tell a lie the surest sign of weakness her Queen Mother often told her, Evagoria promised herself that this would be the last one she ever told. No doubt heading for the life-giving waters of the fountain, Adamarcus and Taharqa suddenly stormed past her as if ghouls chased hot on their hooves.
Back down on the first level, Evagoria peeked into the stable. As Persepolis happily continued to feed, those slurping, sucking sounds now a bit louder brought another smile. Evagoria suddenly felt thankful for three things: First for her family, second for her friends, and third that these friends had no idea as to the raging malice embedded deep inside her and made many times stronger by Poseidon.
Cassiopeia promised this malice would someday tear through not only her, but through their world as well, but in Evagoria’s mind, resistance was not futile. She simply loved too many others to accept this. Perhaps she could not stop such rage from overtaking her, but Evagoria would fight it with every breath until she no longer had the strength to do so. Or if it came to it, there were no more breaths left to take.
Chapter Twenty-Five
STALKING POSEIDON’S GIFT
The monster does not just want to see Evagoria. It wants to make her its own. If still a part of the Yeturi colony that knows nothing of possessions or beauty, it would see the princess as just another meal. Her radiance would mean nothing to it. But the covetous troll is no longer with its kind. It resides in Atagartis, as does what it desires above all else.
– Adamarcus, Aeropid Centaur
– Mid-Fall, Year 4,253 KT[29]
Now close to midnight on their third night in Atagartis, Adamarcus, Taharqa, and Persepolis enjoyed the raucous party. But things suddenly began to go downhill in a hurry. As if they formed a receiving line not to arrive, but to leave, Mermaids a shade of green more than light blue now excused themselves from Evagoria’s birthday party.
“As I become convinced some of our food was not prepared quite right,” Queen Diedrika seethed, “it’s a sure bet that someone in the scullery will lose his head tonight.”
King Judiascar and Xavier chuckled at the thought.
Diedrika wrapped an arm around Theodoric. She then winked and offered a sly smile to Adamarcus; he clumsily smiled back. To hear the queen say such a thing suggested there was a decent chance she would follow through with such a threat. But these words AND that wink and smile told him it was all but a done deal.
“‘Tis a shame Betrugen and Verrator are not here to partake in whatever has made so many so sick,” Andromeda mused aloud. Cassiopeia laughed at this, but Perseos just appeared embarrassed to hear his sons’ names.
“Not that they would have, but I told them not to come,” Perseos told them.
“Still,” Andromeda chortled, “I would not mind shoving whatever it was that made others ill straight down their throats.”
“It is all so suspicious, I must say!” Penelope added. “I cannot remember the last time such a thing happened at a banquet.”
Adamarcus was not particularly thrilled to be a part of this conversation; he just stood in place like a statue and nodded politely. With Penelope’s words giving them all pause, now was his chance to
escape. He turned to the dessert table. Sure enough, there was Taharqa gorging on sweets as Persepolis stood at his side and rambled on. Adamarcus did not know of what they spoke of, but as it had to be better than this exchange about vomiting and scandalous brothers, he happily joined them.
“Try this one, Adamarcus!” Taharqa drooled as he shoved a pastry into Adamarcus’ hand. “No, no – this one!” Another pastry went into the other hand. “Wait, I think you will like this one best!” His mouth barely open, the giddy Nubian shoved a third pastry straight into it.
Adamarcus really, really hoped Evagoria did not see him in such a silly ––
“Hello, my friends,” called the sweetest voice his ears had ever or would ever hear.
The three turned around and met the glassy gaze of the birthday princess. She sat wobbly atop Zacharias. Even when sick, to Adamarcus’ eyes she looked as spectacular as ever. Even when sick, she still looked at him with those kind sapphires that, of course, had to have noticed the mess around his mouth.
“Happy birthday, Princess!” Adamarcus mumbled through the pastry that stuck like sap to every tooth. It was at least the tenth time he wished her this, but he would do so ten times more if he could. And each time, she had smiled wide, but the smile she now offered him was barely one at all.
“I am so sorry,” Evagoria said in a soft voice. “I have stayed awake as long as I can, but just cannot do so any longer. I do not know what has made so many of us so sick, but I must bid each of you goodnight.” Evagoria a renowned night owl like her mother, for tonight at least, this would not be the case.
After many hugs – Adamarcus wiped the pastry from his puss first – sad faces, her repeated appreciation for the gifts they had brought, but she had yet to open, and deep growls from Zacharias for getting too close, the three followed as Theodoric escorted Evagoria to her quarters. Her bedchamber was a tall tower that one could only enter by way of identical sets of sweeping Kauri wood ramps that wound around each side. Polished lapis lazuli covered the granite blocks that made up this tower. Once father and daughter were out of sight up the southwest ramp, Zacharias flew off without even a parting word.
The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) Page 27