The Gift From Poseidon: When Gods Walked Among Us (Volume 2) (28 page)

“
That looks
delicious!
” Persepolis drooled as he spun around and leaned toward the lamb.  Adamarcus and Taharqa quickly grabbed a limb and now dragged him away from the cage.  “But, but – aw, come on!  I finally have a chance to see something make more of a mess when it eats than I do.”

“Just remember, Persepolis,” Taharqa reminded, “this is how we feel about wanting to watch
you
eat!”  With a sigh, Persepolis relented and followed behind them.

The Yeturi suddenly sprang from its seated position and angrily rattled the bars of its cage.  More joyful cheers and applause came next.  Everyone else might have thought such an outburst was because dinner was on its way, but Adamarcus knew better.  The monster did this because the object it fancied more than any other had now abandoned it.  Such distress upon their departure was fine with him – he was just glad to be away from the covetous demon.

The thirst-quenching beverages beckoned and together they made their way to the miniature oasis of delectable refreshment.  About halfway between the Yeturi and kiosk, Adamarcus turned back.  The bleating lamb lowered into its cage ignored for the moment, the beast had yet to release its stare from Evagoria.

“Waiting to be ripped to shreds, the monster’s food cowers meekly in the corner of its cage, yet it only has eyes for Evagoria.”

“
Maybe
,” Persepolis chortled, “it’s not as dumb as we think.  I mean, who would have guessed that such a senseless beast could be a hopeless romantic?”

Although he laughed along with his best friend, Adamarcus warily continued to watch the Yeturi.  Pieces of the torn apart lamb half in its gut and half littered about its cage or in claws dripping in blood; no matter in what direction the four friends roamed, not even for a moment did those devilish eyes stop stalking Evagoria.

As the blood of the impaled boar drips from Persepolis’ fangs, I imagine this blood sliding down my bronze-made sword.  That it is I, not he, who has taken this life.  For nothing more than my own glory do I impale this beast.  AND I LOVE IT!  I am both terrified and emboldened by such thoughts.  On the eve of turning fourteen and to have ideas such as these?  Since when has madness become the realm of the young?  For now, I will keep secret these imaginings, but I cannot do this forever.  I must eventually tell my friends, but it is most likely that once I do so, I won’t have any friends left.

– Evagoria, Mermaid Princess

– Mid-Fall, Year 4,253 KT
[28]

“I suppose you two would like something to eat as well,” Evagoria asked as she turned to face her friends.

Their overflowing berry drinks already in hand, Adamarcus and Taharqa gleefully nodded their heads as Persepolis glumly followed along.  Evagoria would let him do so for now, but this unhappy state would not last long: She would soon reveal to him a most desired surprise.  Evagoria led the trio to a kiosk that served what she believed to be the tastiest food in Atagartis.  Once close, she took her friends aside.  Evagoria then motioned to the five guards who had escorted them to the marketplace and they approached.

“So that’s where your guard wandered off to,” Adamarcus noticed.  As for Taharqa and Persepolis, they really didn’t seem to notice much of anything.

“Wait here and I will get all the food you and Taharqa can stuff into your happy little faces.”

Many dozens of Mermaids now watched Evagoria and her guard.  Two steaming buckets of food accepted from the giddy shopkeeper, those watching now rushed the food kiosk.

It was nice to know that others were eager to partake of what she favored, but this was all just so silly.

A chore to weave through the mob to reach Adamarcus, Taharqa, and Persepolis again, once she did so, the five guards drifted out of sight once more.

As the two Centaurs and Evagoria merrily sipped their oversized drinks, Persepolis looked at them as if left out of the fun.  He could certainly smell the food, but as it was not freshly dead, he wouldn’t dare take even a bite.  Watching as Adamarcus and Taharqa dug into their buckets, Evagoria had not even told them what they eagerly tore into, but their dancing eyes and drooling mouths told her they both found it delicious.

“I’m so sorry, Persepolis.”  Evagoria rubbed his limb closest to her.  “Atagartis is nothing like the Agathis and has none of the well thought out luxuries for you that Lacanesia has.”  She knew Persepolis had visited Atagartis twice in the past, but last night was the first time he had ever stayed overnight.

“No, no, it’s nothing,” he sighed in a cheerless voice.  Persepolis picked up one limb after the other and watched as water ran off each before setting it back down.  Next, he looked in different directions and sighed once more.  “Atagartis is beautiful, a work of art like pretty much everything Mermaids touch.  I guess it’s just that, well – everything is so wet.  And it always smells like fish.”

Adamarcus and Taharqa chuckled at this goofy remark, but Evagoria just stared at Persepolis in disbelief.

“
Mermaid.
” she shouted playfully with both hands held high.  With her free hand, she then pointed north.  “
Ocean.
”

Persepolis chuckled at Evagoria’s theatrics as well.  He then took in a deep breath.  “I know, I know.  Live prey not always so close, I just wish that sometimes I could eat dead things too.  Like,” he cocked his head, “um – what exactly is that?”

Adamarcus and Taharqa looked at Persepolis as if he had just caught them in the act of a grand theft.  Their twin sets of cheeks stuffed so full, these two put hoarding chipmunks to shame.

“Well … I don’t really know,” Taharqa mumbled.  “Covered in some kind of sauce, delicious – hard to tell.”  Pieces of food fell from his mouth as he blabbered through yet to be chewed morsels sticking to his lips that chose to die gloriously instead of cowardly dropping into the shallow water they stood in.  “
What
is this
, Evagoria?”

Evagoria peered inside each bucket, grabbed a plump piece from Adamarcus’, popped it into her mouth, and smiled.  “Mmmmm, elephant seal snout.”  With a pause, her grin grew even wider and she reached into the bucket for more.  “Oh, how lucky!” Evagoria tossed a few smaller pieces into her mouth, “bits of penguin too.”

Two cheery faces suddenly froze.  Four glassy eyes then gawked at her.  With a wink, she spun around to face Persepolis.  As Evagoria took her time to enjoy each sumptuous chew, she continued to smile at the hungry Arachna.  These bites swallowed and ready to reveal her surprise for him, Persepolis leaned to his left.

“Oh, Persepolis, I have a gift for you, my friend!  For two days, Father ––”

Evagoria stopped mid-sentence.  Persepolis still staring over her shoulder and past her, she slowly turned around.  Pained, twisted faces owned by the clowns she adored most met her not-so-pleased gaze.

After hurriedly pouring the remaining chopped and sautéed cuts of meat into Taharqa’s bucket, they took turns spitting the food still tucked in their cheeks into the other.  Next, Adamarcus pushed his near-empty pail against his chest, stuck out his tongue, and poured water from a canteen held above his head.  More water than not landing on his outstretched tongue, it dribbled sloppily from his mouth.  Before he could finish, Taharqa ripped both from Adamarcus’ shaking hands and then did the same.

“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 purpose 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.”