Rising (3 page)

Xanthus turned
away as the mob rushed in toward her.

“They’re not going to like what you just did,” Kyros said, coming up from behind him.
“We need to get you out of here.”

“Just where do you think you’re going?” Gael shouted.             

Xanthus
turned and drew his sword. Gael and his soldiers were at Xanthus’s back, their weapons drawn.

“You have no right to detain
us, Gael.
We’re
not the ones who committed a crime here,” Xanthus said.

“That’s not how I see it. You’ve
interfered with my capture…”

“Your illegal capture
,” Xanthus interrupted.

“That’s up for debate. Even now the counsel is arguing on whether they should allow us to kill all humans who venture into the sea.”

“That’s insanity,” Xanthus said.

“No. Insanity is letting the humans poison us as we die one by one, settlement after settlement.
” Gael clenched his fists so tight, his knuckles shone white. His chest heaved and his face burned red. “I’m through arguing with you. If you’ve chosen not to side with your fellow Dagonians, then you’ve chosen to side with the humans. And you deserve to die.”

“You’d kill your own brother?” Kyros asked.

Gael snapped his head in Kyros’s direction. “If he’s aligned himself with the humans, he’s no brother to me.”

“I’ve not sided with the humans,” Xanthus said. “I’ve sided against
you
.”

“Same thing
,” Gael answered. He turned to his men. “Kill them. Leave their bodies for the sharks.”

Kyros moved in next to Xanthus, ready to
fight. At twenty-six against two, the odds weren’t good. He and Kyros were infinitely more skilled than any one of Gael’s men. But coming at them all at once? They might have a problem on their hands.

The sea began to spin and stir a
round them, forming a whirlpool. Gael’s men backed away, shouting in confusion. A loud clap, like the snapping jaws of a giant shark, pulsed through the water. Then light flashed.

A
man stood before them on the dry sea floor in a column of air. The water rotated around him like a funnel. The man was well muscled, his eyes piercing, and his body glowed with unspeakable power. The winged sandals were a dead giveaway to his identity. This was Hermes, messenger of the gods. And the god’s eyes fell on Xanthus.

“Xanthus Dimitriou?”

“Yes,” Xanthus answered.

“I have a message for you.”
Hermes eyed the soldiers. He then looked back to Xanthus, smirked, and shook his head. “You are to report immediately to Triton’s palace.”

Hermes didn’t wait around for Xanthus’s answer
, but disappeared in a flash of light as the sea slapped back together with a deafening crack.

Xanthus didn’t move—stunned by what just happened.
True, he had petitioned Triton. But he never truly expected an answer. Triton hadn’t spoken to a Dagonian since they’d slaughtered the last of his merchildren two thousand years ago. Still, as newly appointed Guardian of the Sea, Triton should be informed of a gathering threat of war.

F
ear fluttered in Xanthus’s chest when he wondered if his brother was right. Would this meeting mean his death?

Xanthus looked
back to the soldiers who, just a moment ago, were ready to massacre them. They looked just as astonished as he felt. When Xanthus and Kyros moved forward, the soldiers didn’t utter a word of protest, but cast their eyes down and parted. One threat of death averted, on to another.

When they were a fair distance away, Kyros spoke. “Is there something you haven’t told me?”

“I didn’t think it worth telling.”

“You summoned a
god
and didn’t think it worth telling your best friend?”

“I didn’t summon him, I petitioned him. There’s a difference.”

“Not
much
difference. Summoning Triton would have gotten you killed immediately. Petitioning him will buy you another hour or so before he strikes you down.”

“He won’t strike me down.”

“Oh really. And why not?”

“Because my cause is just.”

A short, hard laugh burst from Kyros just before a scowl settled on his face and he shook his head. “You may be older than me, but those years didn’t do much to add to your wisdom.”

“I’m not ignorant of Triton’s hatred toward us, but he’s also honorable. His position
demands he listen to me. I’m going to offer to appeal to the humans. They must be reasoned with. They must stop their attack on our seas. It’s the only way to save them.”

“So you want to save the humans
?” Kyros asked. “Even after they polluted our seas and killed over three thousand Dagonians?”

“It’s not only the humans I’m worried about. A war won’t solve anything. There are six billion people living on the surface. Our numbers aren’t even close to matching that.
“

“Perhaps
. But physically,
we
have the advantage.” Kyros flexed his impressive muscles.

“
True, but how many of us will die? Thousands? Millions? They’ve already killed three thousand of us, and they didn’t even know they’d done it.”

“Well, you do what you need to do to stop this war. I, for one, will be spending more time at the training fields. Still, if you can convince Triton to join your side, anything’s possible. Just be careful. Gods are rarely reasonable and quick to strike.”

“I’ll be fine,
” Xanthus said.

Kyros
turned and opened his mouth to argue. Instead, he pursed his lips together and gave a quick nod.

The Castle of Triton rose in the distance—a colossal fortress with many tall turrets, arched buttresses, and massive windows. Hundreds of sharks circled above and around the castle, guarding their master inside.

As Xanthus neared, five of the larger sharks broke rank and charged toward him. Their gaping mouths sneered, ridged with sharp, dagger-like teeth. Xanthus’s steel muscles clenched, prepared for battle.

The sharks stopped just out of striking distance, effectively blocking his approach to the castle. Their eyes pierced him, oozing a deep and loathing hatred. The most frightening shark hovered in the middle, flanked by the others. Half his face was missing. The horrific injury had healed, leaving pink and grey flesh knitted together, knarled and misshapen.
How could he have survived such a severe injury?

A thundering concussion poun
ded through the water. The rumbling sound formed words. “Let the Dagonian pass.” A shudder went through Xanthus at that menacing voice.

The sharks hesitated a moment before parting. Still, they continued to glare at him. Xanthus readied himself to respond in case any of the guards decided to attack. An assault
would be unlikely; given it must have been Triton who had ordered them to back off. But with so much anger and vicious hatred directed at him, Xanthus held his defensive posture as he approached the castle.

A massive, grey leviathan clung to the side of the building. His mountainous bulk and countless tentacles snaked over the surface.
Xanthus searched for the castle door. He circled the entire building but still couldn’t see any sign of an entrance. Finally, he puzzled it out. The leviathan had to be covering it. He scowled at that realization. Surely, he wasn’t expected to fight the thing. The creature might look soft, but inside that gelatinous body lurked a razor-sharp beak so large and powerful it could snap him in two. Xanthus might be able to slice off a tentacle or two during the fight, but in the end he’d still be dead and the injured leviathan’s tentacles would grow back in a matter of months.

The monster’s great eyes fixed on
him as he moved toward the creature. When Xanthus swam close enough to touch him, the tentacles slithered back, revealing a gigantic door. One thick tentacle pushed the door open, generating a low, thundering rumble. Xanthus focused on the door as he tried to ignore the monstrous, fleshy archway he passed under.

Darkness enveloped him as he swam into
an immense hall. A kaleidoscope of faintly luminescent stone framed great tapestries along the walls. He swam above an intricate mosaic map of all the oceans and seas. It covered the entire floor of the vast room. Near the back of the hall, high branches of black coral cradled an enormous throne. His eyes widened at what looked like fire-lit torches—something he’d seen pictured in a book of human lore.

D
ouble doors slammed open at the back. A figure entered wearing a hard, stony glare. Firelight glinted across roped muscles and a mighty tail. His blond hair and trimmed beard swaying in the water did nothing to soften his scowl.

There was no
doubt that King Triton had entered the room.

Xanthus’s eyes widened in shock.
Triton looked like a Dagonian.

“Xanthus Dimitriou?”
Triton’s deep voice rumbled.

“I
’m at your command, Sire.” Xanthus bowed before he neared the throne, careful to maintain a respectful distance.

“Before I give you
any
command, you will answer me this one question. Are you courageous or stupid?” The god’s furious blue eyes reflected the fire of the torches. Xanthus felt as if he were staring into the burning pit of Tartarus. His first impression couldn’t have been more wrong. Triton was nothing like a Dagonian. With the tail of a tiger shark, fiery eyes as blue as the sea, and the temperament of a raging typhoon, Triton’s presence oozed powerful, menacing god.

Still,
Xanthus answered without hesitation. “I am courageous, Majesty.”

“Do you not know the hatred I bear toward you Dagonians? You slaughtered my children, my grandchildren—all my beloved merchi
ldren!” Triton’s voice boomed.

“Yes, Sire
. I know.” Xanthus wanted to say that he had not been part of the slaughter and the Dagonians had had no choice but to act on Poseidon’s command but Xanthus felt Triton’s unspoken demand that the Dagonians shoulder the blame for the destruction of his children. Xanthus bowed his head, astonished to see Triton’s rage still fresh and fierce, even after two thousand years.

Xanthus steadied his breath and forced the fear bubbling inside to melt away.
He could not forget his reason for coming. His mission was more important than the life of one Dagonian. And regardless of how fierce Triton acted or the fact he could kill Xanthus with a single glance, Triton was also honorable. Xanthus just needed to appeal to that side of the god and do it before Triton struck him dead.

“Yet,
” Triton continued, “you come to
me
, your enemy, to request permission to venture among the humans and appeal to their good natures. Not only that, but you expect me to impart some of my own power to make this travel possible?”

“Yes, Sire
,” Xanthus spoke firmly.

“You expect
much, Dagonian.” He paused, eyeing Xanthus. “Answer me this. How many souls have you sent to Hades?”

Xanthus tensed. What reason did Triton have to ask this question?
“Over a hundred Dagonians, Sire, not including the ones I sent to Panthon prison and have since died there.”

“And
the humans?”

“
Twenty-six… No wait, after today, twenty-seven.”

Triton narrowed his eyes.
“Do you think to redeem your soul from Tartarus by this journey?”

“No, Sire
, I have nothing to redeem myself from. Those I sent to Hades were predators preying on the innocent. And the humans were… necessary.”

Triton pondered in silence for several long moments. “So
now you want to save them both—Dagonians and humankind alike. Do you truly think one man can make a difference? You think you can convince the entire human race to stop poisoning our seas?”

“I think it’s worth trying, Majesty,” Xanthus answered, his voice ringing with conviction.

Triton narrowed his eyes as he studied Xanthus. The god’s scowl loosened slightly. “You’re nothing like your father.” Triton let that statement settle for a moment before he spoke again. “You remind me of Elsia.”