Legacy of the Watchers Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Nancy Madore

  And it was the same when he spoke of the people on the island. It was clear that he was as smitten with them as they were with him. It had all come about so seamlessly that Nadia could see why Poseidon was convinced that it was all part of some divine plan. He had been able to grow close to the people—loving them even—because they belonged exclusively to him. They were unaware of any other gods besides him. Poseidon could never have been content to merely be one god among many. He could only be content as the God. In that role, he could be unendingly magnanimous.

  “How did you meet your goddess?” asked Gordon.

  The light seemed to grow a little brighter in Poseidon’s eyes. “My island had the most magnificent mountains I have ever seen—before or since,” he said. “By comparison, Mount Olympus seemed little more than a rock. There was one mountain in particular that was more splendid than the others. It was sublime, forested with enormous trees that appeared to have sprouted up from the earth in a perfectly symmetrical pattern. From overhead, they looked just like soldiers preparing for battle. Beneath the trees, the ground was covered in flowering ferns. There were waterfalls and streams—and great plains where wild ox could be found grazing. I had a resting place at the summit, where I would sometimes sit so I could look down at my island for pleasure. One day, while doing just this, I came across one of the most beautiful creatures I had yet to see.”

  Poseidon stopped, as if halted by the memory. His soul seemed to soften and bow. His head dropped. His distant gaze moved, with his countenance, to the floor. He might have forgotten that they were there. The minutes ticked by in silence. A gloom seemed to fill the room, hanging heavily in the air.

  “Her name was Cleito,” he resumed at last, and his entire being seemed to quiver at the mention of her name. His voice was tender, providing the first glimpse of the softer side of this turbulent soul. “I’ll never forget the sight of her dazzling sea-blue eyes—or her hair, which was the color of wheat.” He glanced up at Nadia then, and she suddenly realized that that was the first time Poseidon had actually looked directly at her. She couldn’t help wondering if he might have purposely avoided looking at her because of her resemblance to Cleito. Of course, the mask covered everything except for her hair and eyes, leaving the rest to the imagination. Poseidon’s grimace as he dragged his gaze away from her made it only too clear how he had filled in the gaps.

  “I had spent my life in the presence of goddesses,” he said. “Cleito put all of them to shame. Her beauty—like her soul—was as delicate and pale as the newly emerging petal of a soft, pink rose. Streaks of sunshine radiated from her hair. Her eyes reminded me of the sea…her shy smile the delicate lotus.” A look that was almost savage glimmered in his eyes when he spoke of her. “It was clear that she had been put on that island for me.” He actually smiled. “I had intended to win her over with gifts from around the world, but Cleito needed no such enticements. Her devotion to me was complete. In spite of her divine purpose, she trembled like a leaf in my presence.”

  Nadia couldn’t help feeling the slightest bit annoyed by Poseidon’s hypocrisy, especially in light of his previous condemnations of the other gods who had partnered with mortals. He seemed to think that his love for Cleito was powerful enough to transform her into a goddess but, by all indications, she was just another mortal.

  “Were you with Cleito in your…present condition?” asked Gordon. “As a soul?”

  “Yes…at first,” said Poseidon. “She loved me as I am. But being in her presence so much, I found myself yearning for the pleasures of the flesh once more.”

  “So you took on a body,” Gordon concluded.

  Poseidon’s expression darkened. “Yes,” he replied remorsefully. “And with it, the corruption of the flesh.”

  “Was it someone on the island?”

  “No!” said Poseidon adamantly. “I didn’t want anyone from the island. My body had to be new—and as flawless as the one I would be sharing it with. I searched the world over until I finally found the right one. It was perfectly suited for Cleito; fair, and similar of feature. Ours would be the perfect union, body and soul.” He said this last so wistfully that it was clear that something must have gone wrong.

  “Didn’t Cleito approve?” asked Gordon.

  Poseidon’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Cleito would never have scorned one of my gifts!” he bellowed at Gordon. But immediately after this outburst he settled into a sulk. “It was him,” he grumbled. “I could not bear his impertinence!”

  Nadia was hardly able to contain a sputter of indignation at this reference to the soul whose body Poseidon had taken possession of. But Poseidon was too absorbed in his memories to notice her.

  “I felt his presence like a traveler feels a rock in his shoe,” he continued. “Especially when I was with Cleito, I could always feel him creeping in and encroaching on us, like a depraved predator—or a parasite! I was often compelled to shut off my own sensations in order to keep him out. I couldn’t bear for him to experience what I was experiencing…or to see what I was seeing!”

  This was, for Nadia, the height of selfishness. To have so little tolerance for the soul whose life had been ripped away so that Poseidon might live seemed unconscionable. Though Ornias had expressed a similar observation of the souls within the bodies he inhabited, it seemed as if his discomfort was born out of sympathy for that soul, and his guilt over his having taken possession of it. But Poseidon seemed to begrudge the soul any existence at all—even comparing it to a parasite!

  “It was Cleito I wanted to protect,” continued Poseidon defensively, almost as if he had sensed Nadia’s thoughts. “I couldn’t bear the thought of any living creature defiling her beauty or stealing her innocence. That’s why I built her a palace on the highest mountain I could find, and surrounded it with—not one, but five—moats. I trusted no one—not even the women. I allowed no one in to take advantage of her—or to usurp my authority over her.”

  His palace paradise sounded more like a prison to Nadia.

  “But I could not escape the soul that tormented me day and night,” said Poseidon. “It was always watching. Waiting. I knew what it wanted and I was careful to ensure that it was left wanting…even if it meant that I, too, would be left wanting.” He sighed heavily. “But Cleito was a passionate woman. There were many times when I failed in my duty to protect her, trapped, as I was, in the clutches of the flesh.”

  Though Nadia was repulsed by Poseidon’s jealousy, she could well imagine his dilemma. He hated sharing more than anything else, but here he was, obliged to share his most intimate treasure…or to do without himself. She wondered if Cleito sensed her husband’s inner turmoil. Had she secretly relished the thought of being embroiled in this bizarre love triangle?

  The soul came with the body. There was no way around that. As Ornias so eloquently pointed out, it was the price that all the Nephilim had to pay if they wanted to live. It was the cost of admission into the flesh. But oh, how it must have tormented Poseidon, as he ravished his wife night after night, to know that that other soul was right there with him, feeling every sensation, and possibly, like Poseidon, torn between ecstasy and fury.

  “But that is our fate,” Poseidon continued with a little shrug. “As time passed, and Cleito gave me sons, I came to understand this. There was a higher purpose than the mere pleasures of the flesh.

  “The sons she gave me were exceptional,” he went on. “But they were mortals. I never let them forget that. I never corrupted them with the idea that they might be gods. And yet, I did intend for them to lead. From their very conception, I began apportioning them regions that had yet to be conquered. You see, I had discovered the formula through which paradise could be achieved here on earth, and I intended to accomplish this mission throughout the earth, not just on my island paradise.

  “But there can only be one god. Only through unity can true perfection be achieved. Yet I needed leaders. As my kingdom grew larger—stretching beyond my island into the north
ern and southern continents, I needed kings to rule. And, as if fulfilling prophesy, Cleito delivered my sons in pairs.”

  Gordon listened without interrupting as Poseidon outlined his plan for the perfect world—with him as the one and only god.

  “By this time I had organized a powerful army, amassed with enormous chariots carrying rows of skilled archers. No one could defend themselves against us. And few wanted to. Word had spread about this new paradise with one god, and most mortals wanted to be a part of it. At least the ones with any intelligence did.

  “Once a region was defeated, new cities would be erected. I allowed them to keep everything from their culture that was worth preserving, and even my paradise island benefited from the new ideas and additional resources. The region in the north proved most profitable. From there, my kingdom acquired precious metals, such as gold and silver, as well as other necessary metals such as iron, tin and lead. I called that land Tartessos, which means ‘land of treasures.’

  “Whenever I sent ships out to sea I followed them, protecting them and even, when necessary, using my power to bring about storms to suppress our enemies. One way or another, my armies always managed to conquer every city they entered.

  “This went on for years, and my paradise prospered and grew. We were completely self-sufficient now, with mines, fertile fields and plenty of mountainous forests. Everyone had all that they needed. Most had luxuries far beyond their needs. My sons had sons. These, my grandsons, were likewise granted kingdoms to rule—for I had an abundance of conquered cities.

  “Within my kingdom there was peace. My sons had formed a confederation through which they enforced my laws on the land—upon penalties of death. My laws were never questioned. They were for the good of the people, and my people were happy to obey. They trusted me, and turned to me in times of need. Temples were erected in every city so that the people could worship me and offer up sacrifices.

  “Besides the temples, which brought my people comfort and reassurance, I provided enormous houses of learning for those minds that were thirsting for knowledge. They gathered to discuss the world, the universe and the human mind. They made great discoveries and invented many things.

  “Word spread of the peace and prosperity we enjoyed. People living in other lands referred to my kingdom as ‘heaven on earth.’ Often, when we approached another land to conquer, we would find them greeting us with open arms.

  “But there were some—the most corrupt, as it were—who dreaded an allegiance with me. These wicked rulers loved their own power more than they loved their people. It was particularly bad in the land that was southwest of my island, where a group of kings had begun a crusade to abolish this concept of ‘heaven on earth.’ They did everything they could think of—resorting, at last, to brute force—to strengthen their peoples’ faith in their false gods. They instilled in them a fear of anyone seeking heaven here on earth. To pursue happiness in this world was to invite eternal torture in the next, they said. Many people believed them—and lost their life in the bargain. And I doubt they reached their promised reward!”

  The pride in Poseidon’s voice, as he described his kingdom, made Nadia wonder if it really was as idyllic as he claimed. But even if it was that way for Poseidon, it didn’t necessarily mean that it was the same for his subjects. Throughout history, the vast majority of citizens have experienced their country differently from their leaders. And yet, it sounded as if Poseidon’s kingdom appealed to those looking in from the outside. Was it fear that made them concede so willingly, or something else?

  “It sounds like you created quite the empire,” remarked Gordon. “But what about Olympia? Surely they must’ve heard of your kingdom by this time.”

  The light abruptly dimmed from Poseidon’s eyes. “Their silence was quite puzzling to me too, at first,” he admitted. “But then I remembered how wrapped up they were in their silly little games and intrigues. They probably never imagined that I would dare to rise up against them.”

  “And…did you?” asked Gordon.

  “My armies had not ventured very far east on the northern continent,” he said, “though we had gone as far as Egypt in the south. We had invaded—and conquered—a few of Egypt’s cities along the seaboard. These were enormous victories. The Egyptians fought hard to protect their gods, which were strange looking figurines—mere toys, really. But they had large, powerful armies.” Poseidon paused. “I suppose I should have continued into Egypt to finish what we had started.”

  There was another short silence, as if Poseidon was still considering this option.

  “But you didn’t?” prompted Gordon.

  “No,” replied Poseidon. “I had every intention of doing so until I caught that first glimpse of the sea facing the north, in the direction of Olympia. Then, suddenly, everything changed.

  “From my paradise island I had ventured out in every direction, conquering cities on two separate continents, and even traversing the ocean in the west, where no man had gone before. My ships were the first to venture there! My kingdom stretched out in all directions, comprising millions. But I suddenly realized that all of this meant nothing. I would never be the one true god until I conquered the land of the gods. So I gathered up my armies and prepared for the biggest battle of my life.”

  “I can’t help noticing that you haven’t mentioned the name of your island paradise,” observed Gordon.

  Poseidon’s expression had grown so dark that it almost seemed to be casting a shadow over the entire room.

  “I have not spoken of it in all these many years,” he admitted.

  “I’m sorry,” murmured Gordon.

  “I named my paradise island—and my entire kingdom—after my first born son,” he said. “He was their first king.”

  Nadia held her breath in anticipation of hearing Poseidon say it, even though she already knew what he was going to say. He hesitated, and it was clear that he found it extremely difficult to comply with Gordon’s request. His expression and tone reflected his inner turmoil when he finally spoke.

  “It was the island of Atlantis.”

  Chapter 40

  Delta Junction, Alaska

  Beth was surprised when the woman opened the door. “Tiffany?”

  Greg Ritter’s girlfriend lived in a small, upstairs apartment in the center of Delta Junction. The stairs leading up to it were on the outside of the building. There was a small porch at the top that was littered with junk, not the least of which was a collection of mismatched dishes that were being used as ashtrays. Apparently, it was easier to get another dish than to empty the ones that were already filled with ashes and cigarette butts. The smell of damp, moldy tobacco hung in the air.

  Even with the porch as a forewarning, Tiffany was a little rougher around the edges than Beth expected. She was thin and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes—this much could be attributed to her loss. But her blonde highlights looked stringy and dull from months of neglect, as the dark roots slowly made their way down from the top of her head. Her fingernails had been painted a bright reddish-pink that might have been pretty a month ago, but was cracked and faded now—much like the dishes that were scattered about the porch. It was clear that this young woman’s decline had begun long before Greg’s death.

  “Guilty,” she replied to Beth’s inquiry. Her voice had a sour note to it. “Who wants to know?”

  “My name is Beth Timmons,” said Beth. “I was hoping to talk to you about Greg.”

  Tiffany stepped to one side of the doorway, which seemed to indicate that Beth could enter. Beth squeezed past her into a dark, equally musty apartment.

  “I was sorry to hear about what happened to Greg,” said Beth. The apartment was a mess. There were clothes strewn about everywhere. Beth’s gaze landed on an open bottle of white wine that was sitting on an old wooden coffee table encrusted with grime.

  “You want some?” asked Tiffany.

  There was a time when Beth prided herself on waiting until after five befor
e having that first drink, but that was getting harder to do these days. She looked at the clock. It was barely noon. A cat sitting on the couch twitched its tail.

  “Maybe just a little,” said Beth.

  Tiffany poured some of the wine into a coffee cup and handed it to Beth. Then she took a swig straight from the bottle.

  “So what did you want to talk to me about?” asked Tiffany. “Did Greg leave me a pile of money or something?”

  Beth winced. “I’m afraid not,” she said. “I don’t know if you heard about my husband, Wayne Timmons?” She paused a minute to give Tiffany a chance to respond, but Tiffany just stared at her with a blank expression. “Well…,” continued Beth, “he was killed too. About a week before Greg was.”

  Tiffany’s expression didn’t change.

  Beth took a sip of her wine. “They both worked at T.D.M.R.,” she went on. “I think their…killer might be the same person. I think it’s someone at T.D.M.R.”

  Tiffany took the wine bottle over to the couch and sat down next to the cat. It was a tabby cat with enormous, light-green eyes. “What do you want me to do about it?” she asked, stroking the cat absently.

  “Did Greg ever mention a ring to you?” asked Beth.

  Tiffany actually laughed at this. “A ring?” she echoed. Her voice was suddenly dripping with sarcasm. “Well, let me see now. He mentioned so many things it was hard to keep up. Like…he mentioned taking care of me,” she said, gesturing around the apartment with her hands, “and you can see for yourself how well that went. He mentioned something about undying love, which I guess he sort of delivered between affairs with those sluts down at the strip club. Oh, and he mentioned getting me out of this dump after each of my two abortions. But no, I can’t say as he ever actually brought up a ring.”

  Well, thought Beth, at least you’re not bitter. And yet, she couldn’t help feeling bad for the girl. She was still young, though getting old before her time. Waiting did that to a woman, especially waiting on a man. Beth sighed, thinking it better to steer the conversation away from rings for the moment.