Poseidon's Scar

by Matthew Phillion

  “Like water,” Muireann said.

  “Funny how that works,” Barnabas said.

  “Did it hurt?” Muireann said.

  “Like hell,” Barnabas said. “But it’s okay. Magic always has a cost. A little pain is nothing compared to fading away.”

  Muireann held the globe near her heart and looked to Barnabas, and then to the others, her face an explosion of emotions, terror and sadness, joy and relief.

  “Go on,” Barnabas said. “Given freely. Do what you need to do.”

  She nodded, almost shyly, then pressed the glass globe to her heart. It faded away, the light bleeding into her, her veins lighting from within. Barnabas wondered if the others had noticed it before—the way Muireann did not seem complete, the way there were cracks in the energy of her life, the fact that she was, slowly but relentlessly, coming apart at the seams. All of that went away now, the final stitching she needed, the last piece to cementing her stay here in our world, he thought.

  As she absorbed the shard of soul, Barnabas felt a rending pain deep in his chest, a part of him gone, forever. Just a small piece. He’d never felt anything like it, but he said nothing.

  Magic always has a cost. It’s just a matter of whether you’re willing to bear that cost or not.

  “Every time I think I know you, you surprise me,” Artem said, and Barnabas felt the Amazon slide an arm under his to steady him. Of course Artem could sense I was about to fall over, Barnabas thought. The man reads body language like a psychic. He was grateful for it, though, his legs wobbling beneath him. Muireann took his free hand in both of hers, saying nothing, just studying his face.

  “Why?” she said.

  “Balancing a scale,” Barnabas said. “One foolish decision at a time.”

  “Well,” Tessier shouted, his ship beginning to drift away. “This is charming and heartwarming, but I have a business transaction to make. Thank you for the entertainment, Coy. Enjoy your continued existence, Muireann. Maybe this means you’ll stop stealing souls from people for a while, huh? Pinocchio is a real girl now or something. Ta.”

  Once the necromancer’s ship was out of earshot, disappearing in the morning fog, Barnabas let himself lean more heavily on Artem.

  “For the record,” he said, his head spinning. “I’m going to kill that man if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “I’m glad you said it first,” Muireann said.

  Barnabas and Echo made eye contact. She shook her head.

  “If you ever start making sense to me, I’ll know I’ve finally lost it,” she said. “Now let’s get these people home.”

  Chapter 60: Birthplace

  The journey back to New Scythia was quiet and without incident. Barnabas guided them through faerie paths Echo didn’t recognize, once passing through a strait lined with bright vegetation on either side, but mostly it was deep blue sea and iron gray skies. Speed was the priority, and Echo and her crew did their best to comfort the injured. Muireann knew an enchanted song that dulled pain, which she sang often. It sounded like an old Irish folk song Echo’s grandmother used to play on a vinyl record until it skipped.

  They were met at the docks by an honor guard of Amazon warriors, a cadre of Keepers of Athena, and both Marpesia and Lampedo. They seemed already aware of what had transpired—certainly they were aware of the Endless arriving in their waters, whether through scouts or magical means Echo couldn’t tell, but in either case, medical care awaited on the docks as well. The injured warriors were carted off quickly, disappearing before Echo could thank them for their courage.

  Artem’s mother was last to leave, refusing, despite the brutal injury she did her best to mask. She grasped her son’s hand tightly before leaving the ship. He seemed hesitant, almost ready to pull away, but Artem did something shocking—he leaned in and kissed Orithyia on the forehead before releasing her hand so Amazonian medics could take her away to be treated. Once the injured were cared for, Echo headed for the gangplank, watching to see if Artem would follow. He hung back, so she approached him.

  “You coming with?” she said.

  “I can never set foot on this island again,” Artem said, his voice like stone.

  “Is this because of something your mother told you?” Echo asked.

  Artem said nothing, but a quickly raised eyebrow let her know the answer to that.

  “What did she say?” Echo said. “Was it here? Just now?”

  “Back on the other ship, before the final battle,” Artem said. “She… she told me the worst thing you can tell anyone, Echo. She told me the truth. And she told me an origin story. Not the myth. The real one. And origin stories… well, you have one yourself. You know they are unkind things.”

  “But we come out better at the end,” Echo said. “Heroes get origin stories.”

  “And villains,” Artem said. He looked out across New Scythia, this place where he was born but never wanted him, and Echo was surprised to see his eyes well up with tears.

  “It’s a funny thing,” he said, his voice soft, strangely tender. “I never thought I’d come back here. And when I was very small, when I first went to the Island of Unwanted Things, all I ever wanted was to come home. Because this was home. My mother was home, and the walls of that castle were home, and these docks, and the beautiful green fields behind the city they wouldn’t let you see when we arrived. I wanted to come home and thought I never could.”

  Artem took a deep breath, as if he knew he was breathing in the last taste of his birthplace he’d ever experience.

  “But then I got angry, and I decided I never wanted to come back,” he said. “To hell with this place that didn’t want me. I didn’t want it either. I had no intention of ever returning, not once I was grown, not once I knew my worth. But I came back anyway. And they let me in, and those memories came flooding back, but now I know things and…”

  Echo grabbed Artem’s hand, half-expecting him to pull away. But he didn’t, so she gripped that sword-roughened hand like he might float away.

  “I can’t come back here. It’s too dangerous. That’s what my mother did. She gave me a reason to know I can’t ever return,” he said. “I don’t know if it was a warning or if it was just a trick to keep me away.”

  “I’m sorry I asked you to come back here,” Echo said.

  “Had to be done,” Artem said, wiping his eyes irritably. “It’s what we always do, right? The hard thing. We do what must be done. But you should go. Tell them what happened. Let them know who saved this world. And then we can sail away and never look back.”

  Echo nodded and made her way down to the docks, approaching the queens where they stood side by side, speaking with Clio, the Keeper of Athena. She sensed someone fall in line behind her. Barnabas, to her right. Yuri as well, but he hung back, his discomfort radiating off him like a fever.

  “It’s done then,” Marpesia said, favoring Echo with a brilliant smile.

  “It is,” Echo said. “Your warriors fought bravely. I’m sorry for what they went through.”

  “That’s what they were born to do,” Lampedo said.

  “And sorry about your ship,” Echo said. “That was unavoidable.”

  Marpesia waved her off.

  “There can always be more ships. You brought all of our daughters home,” she said.

  “You found the Needle and the Eye,” Clio interrupted. “What will you do with them?”

  “You’re asking if we’ll leave them here,” Barnabas said. The Keeper shot the magician a wretched look of annoyance.

  “Well, the Needle’s gone,” Echo said. “I left that embedded like a railroad spike in the monster’s skull. I don’t know how we’d get that back.”

  “Probably where it belongs,” Clio said. “The last champions who stopped this creature were unable to recover it as well. The Eye should be kept somewhere safe, though. No, I was not asking if you’d leave it here. I just want to make sure our records indicate where it can be found, should the need ever arise again.”


  “I really don’t want to go back to the city of the yacuruna,” Echo said. “I mean, they did a fine job keeping it safe, but it felt like a burden to them, and they’ve gone through so much.”

  “A new hiding place, then,” Marpesia said.

  “I have a suggestion,” Barnabas said.

  “In your possession is not an option,” Clio said.

  “I wasn’t going to suggest that,” Barnabas said. “Do you know the name Galatea?”

  “The nymph,” Clio said. “A soothsayer.”

  “Nereid,” Barnabas said. “Who better to hold the Eye of Dreams than someone who is safely hidden away and can see the future?”

  Clio nodded her head appreciatively, then frowned.

  “We don’t know where she’s gone, though, or if she still exists.”

  “She exists,” Barnabas said. “She’s my mom.”

  “Oh,” Clio said, clearly shocked.

  Marpesia burst out laughing.

  “You keep interesting company, Echo of Atlantis,” the queen said. “I trust you’ll get it to this nereid safely?”

  “Of course,” Echo said. “Thank you for your help in all this.”

  Marpesia looked to her sister, then bowed her head respectfully to Echo.

  “I see Orithyia’s son has not joined you,” Marpesia said.

  “He’s not comfortable returning to the island. I’m sure there’s a reason,” Echo said.

  Lampeto shook her head at her sister, but the elder queen ignored her, removing a sword from her belt, a short blade like a gladius. She handed it to Echo, sheath and all.

  “Please give him this. From me,” Marpesia said, again exchanging a strangely strained look with her sister. “And tell him thanks. We wish him well, wherever your journeys take you.”

  Echo accepted the sword and bowed her head in return.

  “I will,” she said, leaving this island to its mysteries and intrigues. She’d had enough of New Scythia and its secrets.

  Chapter 61: Songs on the water

  Muireann had never been there before, but she recognized the island they traveled to next immediately. She could hear the songs of mermaids in the distance. A hidden place full of hidden people. Perhaps, in another lifetime, she might have found herself taking shelter in a place like this herself.

  But fate had handed her a different path. No, she thought, I walked right off my path. I demanded something different.

  And look all the trouble that caused.

  She had avoided Barnabas through most of the journey, a difficult thing on a small vessel. He seemed to understand, though, subtly moving out of her space when necessary, or staying in places easier to avoid when he could.

  Once they arrived at the island, he casually asked if she’d like to go with him to see Galatea, his mother, to deliver the Eye of Dreams. Muireann politely declined. The idea of seeing other beings like her, nereids and nymphs, mermaids and sirens, hidden away in a paradise that was as much prison as home made her anxious and afraid. She didn’t want to envision the life she might have otherwise had.

  Barnabas and Echo went to the island together, leaving the rest behind. Artem wasn’t much for conversation, but Yuri approached her on the deck as she watched mermaids splash in the distance.

  “They almost killed me last time we were here,” Yuri said, pointing at the mermaids.

  “They have a tendency to do that,” Muireann said. “That’s the fate forced on them. Like how I was forced to steal souls. The gods have a terrible tendency to give women awful fates like that.”

  “I wasn’t a were-shark then,” Yuri said. “Just a dude, in a bad situation, trying not to get killed. And their songs lured me overboard. All things considered, it wouldn’t have been a terrible way to go.”

  “Oh, it would have been a terrible way to go,” Muireann said, but then smiled at Yuri. “Not many men can say they survived a mermaid’s call.”

  “You’re free now, right?” Yuri said. “From whatever horrible rules you were stuck with?”

  “As free as anyone ever is,” Muireann said.

  “What will you do?”

  Muireann shrugged. In the distance, she could see Echo and Barnabas rowing their way back, arguing over something.

  “I don’t know,” Muireann said. “That’s the funny thing about not being locked into a destiny, isn’t it? You don’t have anywhere you have to go anymore, so you just… keep moving.”

  “Better than being locked in a box, right?”

  “Yeah,” Muireann said.

  “Well,” Yuri said, brushing invisible dirt from his pants. “We’re always moving. You could stick with us.”

  “Maybe I will,” Muireann said. Yuri grinned at her and walked away, leaving her to her solitude.

  She listened to the song of the mermaids on the water, echoing and rolling like waves. She joined in, knowing the words, the secret language of the sisters of the sea, and felt her heart break, just a little bit.

  My heart breaks, because I am free, she thought. And for the first time, I don’t know who I’m supposed to be.

  Chapter 62: Atlantis

  Echo didn’t insist on her entire crew accompanying her home, but, whether it was out of boredom or solidarity, they did, even Artem, though the Amazon said little as they made their way through the streets of Atlantis to the royal castle. They met with Grimmin, of course, while Echo avoided her relatives with deliberate care. Her aunt she wanted nothing to do with, but her father she couldn’t avoid entirely, and ended up with a stilted, if friendly, conversation with him in the hallway, too many people around for them to have an open discussion.

  “I need a secret entrance,” Echo told Grimmin when they were finally relatively alone so she could tell him how things went down.

  “Princess, you are speaking to a veteran spymaster. If you want a secret entrance to the palace, you need only ask. We have several,” Grimmin said.

  “You’re not joking,” Echo said.

  Grimmin shook his head.

  “Shall I show you to one you can use?”

  “Maybe next time,” Echo said, though the idea certainly had appeal. She ran down the events at Fogarty’s Folly, and before that, leaving out what she thought the Atlantean spymaster wouldn’t need.

  “Will you be staying?” Grimmin said. “I’m sure your aunt would love to chat with you over dinner.”

  “You missed a career in comedy,” Echo said.

  “That was my second choice,” Grimmin said.

  “But no, we should get back to the surface. It’s been an adventure,” Echo said

  “Of course. Just let me know if you need any supplies for your vessel and you’ll have them.”

  They parted company, and Echo stepped out into the halls of the palace, finding her friends scattered and taking in the sights. She located Barnabas near a large window overlooking the city, its gold and silver lights glimmering below like a sea of gems.

  “So, what do you get out of giving a piece of your soul away?” Echo asked, smirking crookedly.

  “Can’t a good deed just be a good deed?” Barnabas asked, looking vaguely offended.

  “It can, but that felt like a tremendous leap of faith, especially for you,” Echo said.

  “You wound me, Echo,” Barnabas said.

  “You are full of crap, wizard. Spill it.”

  Barnabas looked around to see if anyone else was listening, then rolled his eyes.

  “I don’t know if there’s any benefit,” he said. “Maybe there is. My mom’s an immortal fairy creature, so who knows. But what I do know is that the world would’ve been poorer for not having Muireann in it, and all it cost me was a little bit of pain, so I did it.”

  “I still think you have an ulterior motive.”

  “And that’s your prerogative.”

  “You earned this reputation.”

  “I know.”

  They stood side by side wordlessly for a few moments, watching the glittering city below.

  �
�So where do we go from here?” Echo asked.

  “I don’t know,” Barnabas said. “We do have a ship. We could go anywhere.”

  “I feel like that should be freeing,” Echo said.

  “Just sort of makes figuring things out harder, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure does.”

  “Could stay here a while,” Barnabas offered. “Get you up to speed on Atlantean politics.”

  “To hell with that idea,” Echo said. “I don’t care we go, but we set sail right now.”

  Chapter 63: The Department of What, When, Where, Why, and Who

  Simon Yee had to admit, having the were-shark make good on his word was a bit of a shock.

  Sitting around a table at Ishmael’s with that were-shark and four of his friends was a much larger shock. The fact that one of them could best be described as a bald Jack Sparrow cosplayer would have been the most shocking of all if Simon weren’t well-aware of the fact that the friendly-faced kid across from him could transform into a giant man-shark.

  “So, let me get this straight. You work for the Department of what?” Yuri said, sipping on a frozen coffee drink with whipped cream on top.

  “The Department of What,” Simon said for roughly the seventh time.

  “That’s what I said,” Yuri said.

  “That’s its name. The Department of What,” Simon said.

  “You only handle what? What about when, where, why, and who?” Yuri said.

  “We handle those too,” Simon said. “I can see why you’re in charge.”

  “He’s not in charge,” the girl who introduced herself as Echo said. They’d given him a thumbnail of their capabilities without giving much away, but she’d already piqued Simon’s curiosity—an unsolved case involving a young woman about her age with the same unusual first name had caught his attention in the files from this area when he’d taken this assignment. Simon made a mental note to follow up on that.