Of Poseidon 02: Of Triton (11 page)

“Will anti-buttocks close up the hole?”

Dr. Milligan gives her a smile brimming with pity. “I’m afraid not.”

Awkwardness creeps into the room and spreads like a vapor. We’re all thinking our own thoughts, and we’re all staring at Rayna while we do it.

Apparently Dr. Milligan’s thoughts get the better of him. “Emma, why on
earth
would your mother chloroform yourself and Rayna?”

Rachel fluffs her hair and pulls it to one side in a very Italian, very flirty way. “Oh, Dr. Milligan. Have we got some juicy gossip for you.”

12

THE POSEIDON
Trackers bow to Galen as he passes them at the entrance of the cave. He nods an acknowledgment and continues on his way. When he reaches Nalia’s chamber, the two Triton Trackers keeping guard move to block him from entering.
Everyone has gone mad
.
Six months ago, a Tracker wouldn’t dare stall him from going anywhere.

Besides all that, he wonders what Emma would say if she found out he allowed her mother to be imprisoned in her own territory. But Grom and Antonis both agree that this is best, to show cooperation and to show respect for the traditions of the Law. That being inconvenienced now is for the greater good later.

Galen is not entirely convinced that any greater good looms in their future.

Galen holds up the string of dead fish in his hand. “I’ve come to give Her Majesty food.”

“The newcomer is well fed, Highness. She is not in need of more food.”

Galen shakes his head. Before, no one would have dared to deny his request. Not to mention that these Trackers are too young to even know whether Nalia is a newcomer or the true Poseidon heir. Like Galen, they were born after she disappeared and therefore have never sensed her until her reappearance.

Which means they are relying upon information told to them.
Fed
to them by Jagen and Romul.
Grom is right. Solid food is for mature ones. Not young fools like these.

Under the circumstances, Galen cannot afford to be charitable to insolent tadpoles. To show any kind of weakness right now would be a mistake. Cooperation, yes. Weakness, no. The questions Jagen and Romul have raised delve deeper than the identity of Nalia. They are questioning whether or not the Royals can be trusted. Whether or not the Royals are fit to rule.

Galen makes what Emma calls his “or else” face. “I’m not asking, Tracker. Move aside.”

This seems to unnerve the young guard. His face falls. “We … We were told to allow no visitors, Highness, aside from King Antonis.”

“Antonis or Grom has forbidden me to visit? I find that unlikely.” He dares them with his eyes to name Jagen or Romul. They get the point: Royals are still Royals. Royals are still to be obeyed. The Trackers move aside and bow.

Galen finds Nalia gliding along the cavern walls, muttering to herself. Though he knows she’s sensed him for some time, and maybe even heard his conversation with the Trackers, she only looks up when Galen speaks. “I’ve brought you some fish,” he says.

She crosses her arms. “Why hasn’t Grom come for me?”

Galen steals a quick glance back at the guards. “Surely you remember attacking his new mate?” He’s certain that if she had her human legs, she would stomp her foot at that moment. But Grom is doing the right thing. Keeping the peace, and showing objectivity by allowing Nalia to be detained until her identity is decided upon. As far as everyone is concerned, she is a newcomer who has assaulted the Triton queen. Until she is proven to be the Poseidon heir, Jagen has announced her a threat to his daughter’s safety.

This is why Galen is glad the throne has fallen to Grom. If Emma were imprisoned, he’d have already gone mad, done something drastic and reckless. If things get worse, he still might. Grom is still too euphoric to see the depths of what is happening here. Antonis, too, it seems.

Galen’s heart aches for them both.

“Stop calling her his mate. And she’s lucky she brought that many protectors with her. And she’s lucky I didn’t have my lionfish—”

Galen holds out the fish again. “You should really eat.” Right now what Nalia says is treason. Paca is still a Triton queen at the moment. Everything she says can be used against her at the tribunal. And Galen has no doubt the Trackers outside have been instructed to listen intently.

She turns away from him. “I’m not hungry.”

“Highness,” he says sternly. “Sulking will not help anything. Eat. This. Fish. It will give you strength. It’s a gift from Grom. He says these are your favorite.”

She whirls on him. “Cod? He knows I hate … Oh.” She eyes the fish more closely, notices the point protruding from the last cod’s tail. “Oh. Yes, I do enjoy cod.” Nalia relieves Galen of the gift. He hopes she understands that she’s only to use it if things go badly with the tribunal. A last-resort kind of thing, in case Jagen’s influence is more than Grom anticipated, and as much as Galen dreads it is.

The lionfish spike is imbedded into the last cod. Galen wonders that she feels comfortable carrying it at all—lionfish venom is deadly—but Grom insists she’ll know how to handle the thing. Grom is not who Galen thought he was all this time. And neither is Nalia.

“He asks that you only eat them if you have to, Majesty.” Which sounds so ridiculous that Galen shrugs at Nalia when she rolls her eyes. The guards don’t seem to notice the lack of sense in the conversation. But it does appear Nalia understands his meaning.

The tribunal starts tomorrow. The decision would normally be left up to a group of Commons who volunteer for the duty, but since the matter involves Royals, the jury will be made up of a mixture of Archives from both houses. Galen can’t recall ever hearing of such a thing, a tribunal being held for a Royal. But since Nalia’s identity is apparently still in question,
and
she attacked the current Triton queen in front of so many witnesses, the tribunal will also function as a trial. If Jagen is as smart as Galen is starting to think he is, he already has the verdict tucked neatly into his capable hands.

Her identity will not be confirmed. And she’ll be found guilty of treason.

If that happens, she’ll be imprisoned in the Ice Caverns until she takes her last breath. And Emma will never speak to him again. He might as well accompany Nalia to the Ice Caverns. The Ice Caverns are more vast than any human prison, and considerably less populated—the Archives estimate that only forty or so Syrena have ever done something grave enough to be sentenced there. It would be a boring, lonely life—and death.

Of course, Galen is hoping that Grom and Antonis will not allow that kind of outcome. He’s not sure what kind of alternate plan the two kings have conjured up, if anything at all, but surely for all the desperation he sees in their eyes, they’re hiding something more useful than despair behind their anxious expressions. Doing this all the right way is one thing. But there might not be a right way, with Jagen’s influence marring the judgment of the Syrena.

Surely, if the right way fails, the two kings will not watch Nalia be imprisoned.

Grom would not suffer all those years only to lose her to the Ice Caverns. But going against the decision of the tribunal would be … Galen doesn’t want to think of the consequences of that right now. Too much is at stake, not only for Grom and Nalia, but for Galen and Emma as well. If the Archives won’t allow Grom and Nalia to unite, the possibility of Galen and Emma ever mating under Syrena tradition is all but obliterated.

The tribunal has to return a positive solution. It just has to.

And if it doesn’t?
Galen can’t fathom what Jagen could possibly hope to gain if the Royals were displaced.
The kingdoms?
Hardly. The Syrena version of a kingdom differs greatly from the human version. When humans say the word “kingdom,” they mean palaces, mansions, wealth, people. When Syrena say the word “kingdom,” they mean endless strips of ocean. Fish. Reefs. Caverns. The Syrena do not need gold or jewels or paper money for their wealth. The only wealth the Syrena boast of are one another. They trade services sometimes, but mostly they help one another in times of need. They take care of their elderly and young ones.

So then, the only benefit of controlling the kingdoms is to change their way of life.
But what would he possibly change?

Galen nods at Nalia, who has apparently been watching him think things through. He wonders what she saw in his expression. “I’ve got to get back now,” he says. She shrugs.

Get back to what?
he thinks to himself as he leaves her chamber. He’s already roamed through the tunnels of the Cave of Memories twice, and each time he’s found himself back at the ruins of Tartessos, at the wall where he first figured out that Emma was a Half-Breed. The wall where he’s unable to take his eyes off the picture of the Half-Breed girl whose curves remind him of Emma.

Instead of returning there to torture himself, Galen decides to seek out Toraf. His friend has still not pulled himself from his gloomy trance, so at the very least, they could be miserable together. Toraf is close enough to sense, but Galen hesitates. Paca is near as well, and in the same direction he’d need to go to reach Toraf. He’s not particularly in the mood for a run-in with the fraud queen.

Still, he has an almost-urgent need to mull things over with Toraf. To miss Emma and Rayna with Toraf. Simmer with Toraf in mutual lovesick misery and anxiety and insecurity.

So when he gets within earshot, he’s not expecting to hear Toraf and Paca laughing. Together. Not just a polite laugh, either. They are enjoying, genuinely enjoying, a moment together. A private moment.

A private genuine moment that makes Galen ball his fists.
What is he doing?

They stop laughing when he reaches them. “I hope I’m not interrupting something,” Galen says sourly.

“Of course you’re interrupting,” Toraf says, slapping him on the back. “It’s what you do best, Highness.”

Paca giggles. Galen has never seen her like this. Almost at ease, completely natural, instead of uptight like she always is around her father. Completely natural—except for the fact that she still claims to possess the Gift of Poseidon.

“Toraf was just reenacting his recent run-in with a fleet of stingrays. I never realized how entertaining your friend is, Galen.” Paca touches Toraf’s shoulder in a way that makes Galen think this is not the first conversation that has passed between these two.

“I’d have to agree,” Galen says curtly. “He’s full of entertaining surprises.”

Paca sighs, apparently reminded of the situation at hand. That she’s a fraud, that the Royals are on to her, and that they intend to extricate her from the Triton king and her claim to the throne. “I’m afraid I have to leave now. My father is expecting me.” Without further explanation, she swirls away.

Galen waits until she’s out of sight before turning on Toraf. “What was that about? Were you actually
flirting
with Paca?”

Toraf shrugs. “I’m just trying to make the best of the situation, minnow.”

“What could you two possibly have to say to each other?”

“You’d be surprised.” Toraf starts to swim away, but Galen catches his shoulder.

“Enlighten me, tadpole. If anyone needs an entertaining distraction, it’s me.”

They lock eyes with each other. Toraf is definitely hiding something. He’s hiding something and he knows that Galen knows he’s hiding something. “I’m sure I’ve already told you about the stingray incident, Galen.”

“Toraf.”

But his friend shrugs off Galen’s hand. “I don’t have time for a retelling, Galen. I’m meeting with King Antonis soon and I can’t be late.”

“Why are you meeting with Antonis?”

“He wants to hear the stingray story, too.” Toraf is not a good liar, even when he tries. But right now, Galen can tell he’s not even trying. Either he doesn’t care that Galen knows he’s lying, or he’s trying to tell him something with the lie.

Either way, Galen can’t figure it out.

“Then maybe I could come and listen to the story.” This feels weird, to say things between words with Toraf, his best friend since they were fingerlings learning how to swim straight.

Toraf starts to pull away again. “Sorry, Highness, but His Majesty requested a private meeting.”

He never calls me Highness in private
.
He knows I hate it. Why is he going out of his way to irritate me? Does he sense we’re being monitored?
Or is this a new Toraf, formal and rigid? Galen watches until his tail disappears into a cloud of krill passing through. And he decides that he doesn’t like a formal, rigid Toraf.

So then, there is definitely an alternate plan in the works, and Toraf is part of it and clearly Galen is not.

Which could mean several things. They may not trust him. Why, he couldn’t possibly imagine. Or, they could be reasoning among themselves that they’re “protecting” him from knowing whatever it is they’re planning.

Or worse, they think he would disagree with their plans and try to thwart them.

Which can only mean their plans involve Emma somehow.

13

I RUN
the faucet until it’s scalding hot, then dump a dab of dish soap into my empty oatmeal bowl to soak. Behind me, I hear Ranya huff as I pick up my backpack. “Why can’t I go to school?” she rasps. “Galen went to school. If he could fit in, I could fit in.”

Oh, there are so many things I could say to that but Rachel silences me with a look. She walks over to Rayna and squeezes her shoulders. “Oh, sweet pea, you don’t want to hang out with those silly humans.”

“Yes, I do.
Especially
because they’re silly. It’s so boring here without—” She straightens up. “It’s just boring sitting here watching television all day. I want to
do
something. I can’t even get in the water. Toraf will know as soon as I put my toe in.”

This surprises me. “I’m not allowed in the water. They never said you couldn’t get in.”

“Toraf told me not to. He said it was dangerous for me to get in the water, too. He made me promise on our sealing that I wouldn’t.”