Deep Water (3 page)

The mighty sea horses surged forward,
pulling him toward the cove entrance and open water.

****

The Oracle of the Waters resided in a
remote grotto set in one of the
calanques
, or inlets, along the coast of France near
Marseilles. Skylla and Sthenios went unerringly to the hidden entrance, neatly
skirting a loaded cargo ship trundling alone one of the busy Mediterranean
shipping routes.

Out of habit Poseidon extended his senses,
reading the mortals who crewed the ship. Nothing struck him as out of the
ordinary. There were the usual numbers of grudges and violent thoughts, but
those existed wherever mortals gathered. He bestowed a casual blessing on them
as his chariot landed on the sandy sea floor.

Leaving Skylla and Sthenios to nose at a
patch of seagrass, Poseidon headed for the porous limestone rock face that,
above, would become part of France. Down in the depths, however, the territory
belonged to the Oracle of the Waters. He located the camouflaged entrance in
the rocks and went in, first swimming and then trudging upwards through a
narrow tunnel that terminated in a saltwater cave pool.

Emerging from the pool, Poseidon dried
himself with a thought as he glanced around the long, lozenge-shaped cavern. An
array of glass globes hung suspended in netting from the rocky walls. Each
globe was filled with a liquid that illuminated the cavern with a soft white
glow, reflecting on the pool’s surface with a ghostly shimmer.

About thirty feet from the water the walls
narrowed, slabs of rock forming a rough rectangular doorway. A tall,
white-haired man in an old-fashioned linen shirt and homespun breeches waited
there now, pale blue eyes lit with amusement.

“Welcome, old friend,” he said, his voice
low but still retaining a faint Irish lilt. “I see you got my message.”

“I did.” Poseidon raised the bottle. “And
I bring tribute. From my son’s private wine cellar.”

The Oracle’s eyes brightened. “Bythos?
Aye, that lad always had a knack for picking vintages. Come in, then, and be
welcome.”

Poseidon followed the white-haired man into
the back part of the cavern. The anteroom was where the Oracle met those who braved
the waters to learn the will of the Fates. From there, he accepted tribute
before giving them their pronouncements. Behind the doorway, however, were the
Oracle’s private chambers.

Poseidon was struck by the amazing
hodgepodge of shipwrecked items collected by his friend over the centuries.
Gold and jewels poured out of numerous wooden chests, some of them rotting with
age and the ever-present moisture. Salvaged planks and driftwood sat piled in
neat stacks, and various pieces of statuary had been placed in available niches.
In one corner, a peeling but still beautiful figurehead in the shape of a
topless mermaid smiled at him in welcome.

The center of the room had been
comfortably furnished with rare old carpets and pieces of carved furniture,
rescued from the deep and carefully cleaned for their new owner’s use. Two
chairs sat on either side of an elegantly chased brazier that filled the room
with welcome warmth.

He was waved to one seat, and the Oracle
took the chair across from him.

“I’m glad you got here quickly,” the old
man said, taking the bottle and pulling out the cork. “I had the feeling that
there was some urgency behind the Fates’ words.”

Poseidon accepted a filled golden cup.
“Does this have something to do with the events of the past month?”

The Oracle shrugged. “I’m simply the
messenger. Only you can put meaning to the words.”

“Which are?”

Pale eyes focused on him. The Oracle had
once been a mortal man named Donald, but now Poseidon could sense the Fates
gazing at him through those piercing eyes.

“The wheel has turned,” the Oracle said.
“Heal old wounds and regain the trust of those you betrayed, or the Mad One
will prevail.”

Poseidon waited, but nothing else came. “I
assume the Mad One is Thetis.”

The old man sighed, settling back in his
chair. “Can you think of another crazed creature that needs to be defeated?” he
said. “The question is, do you know what the rest of it means?”

The wheel has
turned.
That would require some thought. Healing old wounds could possibly apply to any
of the beings he’d quarreled with over the centuries. Gaia knew there were
enough of them.

The betrayed trust, however, could only
refer to one thing. “It seems the Fates have decided to move into the field of
marital counseling,” Poseidon muttered, taking a deep gulp of his wine.

“Ah.” Donald nodded over his own cup. “The
lovely Lady Amphitrite. I take it you still haven’t reconciled with her?”

“I don’t care to discuss it.

Donald waved it off. “As you wish. But if
the Fates say that you’ll need Amphitrite at your side to defeat her sister,
then you might want to pick out some nice posies and work on your groveling.”
He saluted Poseidon with a golden cup. “Just a suggestion.”

“Groveling didn’t work. Neither did
flowers,” Poseidon said morosely, taking another sip. “My head on a pike—that
might do the trick.”

Donald made a deep, throaty sound that
could have been agreement or censure. “Aye, and there’s some that say the lass
deserves just that,” he said. “But you can’t be lopping your head off now,
friend. It needs to stay on your shoulders, where it’ll do the most good
against Thetis.”

“Will it? I tried to stop her, you know.”
The admission pained him. “After her minion poisoned Bythos, I tried to hunt
her down.
I couldn’t find her.
I’m
the God of the Sea and she’s merely a Nereid, part of my demesnes. I should
have been able to find her anywhere.” He shook his head. “But now she’s …
other
. Something I’ve never seen before.
She’s been removed from my control, somehow. And that disturbs me greatly.”

The Oracle’s eyes narrowed. “How could
that have happened?”

“I’m not sure. But if that’s the case,
then this entire planet may be in the gravest of danger.”

“Have you talked to Gaia about this?”

Poseidon spread his hands. “I tried. She
has declined to answer.”

“Hm.” Donald fell silent, allowing
Poseidon to hear the sound of the ancient stone around them murmuring to
itself. He had always assumed that the position of Oracle must be a lonely one,
but listening now to the living bedrock he realized his friend might have more
company than he’d thought.

“Well, then, you must rely on your own
counsel and fight Thetis as best you can with the allies at hand,” Donald
finally said, nodding. “And from what the Fates say, that includes Amphitrite.
I would suggest you go find her and tell her what I’ve told you. It might
help.”

“Ha.” Poseidon drained his cup. “You’ve
set me a difficult task, my friend. Almost Herculean, if you’ll pardon the
phrase.”

The old mortal chuckled. “Better you than
me, sea lord.”

****

Thousands of miles away, Heather
Turnlow
contemplated her latest acquisition, absently
tapping a purple feather duster against one thigh as she pondered where she
should put the gorgeous marble bust.

For a junk store masquerading as an
antique shop, The Lady’s Touch held some genuine treasures for those willing to
search through its many shelves. Heather was quite amused that the mortal
shoppers who came in to browse never noticed that the interior dimensions of
the store didn’t quite match the exterior dimensions.
Except for that nice Englishwoman
,
Verity something. Such a good eye for spatial volume
.

Unfortunately, the interior of The Lady’s
Touch developing a certain elasticity over the years also meant that its
display system had become rather haphazard. As a result, Heather wasn’t quite
sure where to store the bust currently sitting on her counter.
Garden statuary? Library decor? Halloween
decorations?

A familiar presence bloomed at her back. “Darling,
do you have time for tea?”

“Hello,
Ammie
.”
Grinning, Heather turned to face her sister Amphitrite. The Nereid’s long, dark
hair was caught up in a tidy chignon, and her casual but tasteful
clothing—designer jeans, silk shell top, and Jimmy Choo flats—made her look
like a rich young matron slumming it in a seaside junk shop.

Until you looked at her eyes. They held an
ancient pain that made even Heather wince.

“Oh, crumpets,” she said, tossing the
feather duster onto the counter. “What’s he done now?”

“Nothing—” Amphitrite stopped, staring at
the bust. A flash of raw emotion flickered across her face. “Where did you get
that?”

Heather winced as she remembered the bust.
Damn, damn, damn.
“I bought it at an
estate sale,” she said quickly, hunting for something to throw over it. “The
woman who sold it said it had been sculpted by her uncle, some sort of local
artist. It’s really rather well done, but I didn’t know you were coming in,
otherwise—”

Amphitrite gave her a pained look, and Heather
stopped babbling. “Sorry,” she muttered. “
Er
, I’ll
just stick it out of sight, then.”

“No. It’s all right.” The Nereid reached
out, trailing one fingertip over a high cheekbone, a beautifully full lip, a wide,
strong brow. “It doesn’t really look like her, of course,” Amphitrite said
absently. “But then again, that’s hardly surprising. Most people never look
beyond the snakes.”

Heather noticed her sister avoided the
sinuous shapes that curled around the bust’s head. With a sound she hoped was
supportive and not as
grunty
as she suspected it
really was, she hefted the bust. “Be a dear and put the kettle on,” she said,
trundling off towards the back of the store.

Once the bust had been safely stored with
the Halloween decor, she came back and flicked the door’s OPEN sign to CLOSED,
then headed to the tiny office tucked in the building’s front corner. Her curly
red hair and green glasses disappeared, replaced by her true form as the Nereid
Hyacinth.

Inside the office she saw her electric
kettle, a teapot, a bottle of milk, two mugs carrying the shop’s logo, and a
plate of snickerdoodles already out on her desk, and her sister sitting on the
edge of the visitor’s chair. “You really do need tea, don’t you?”

“I suppose I do,” Amphitrite said as the
kettle clicked off, wisps of steam rising from its spout. “Or wine, if you have
it.”

Hyacinth thought about the bottle of Merlot
upstairs in her apartment, and then eyed the clock over the office door. Even
for divine beings, 10 AM was a bit early to start drinking. “Not at the moment,
sorry,” she lied. “Let me just mash this up and we’ll have a nice talk, yes?”

She busied herself with that, handing her
sister a cup of tea and a cookie. “So, what’s the
Earthshaker
done now?”

“Well … nothing,” Amphitrite said slowly.
“Not exactly, anyway. I was at the cove this morning for a therapy session with
Nick, Aidan, and Liam.”

Once again Hyacinth was impressed by the
breadth of mortal skills her sister had picked up over the millennia. “Nice to
see you using your psychology degree again,” she said over the rim of her cup.

The other Nereid shrugged. “Afterwards I
went over to the boys’ cottage to ask Aphros about a recipe. Poseidon was there
with Bythos and Ian. I assume they were having some sort of war council.”

“Did Poseidon say anything to you?”

“He offered to step out so that I could
speak with Bythos.”

“And?”

“That was it.”

Hyacinth weighed her next words. “Did you
want
him to say anything else?”

Amphitrite slumped in her chair. “I
suppose it’s childish of me to want him to grovel every time I see him.”

“A bit, yes.”

She nodded gloomily. “We’ve done so well,
avoiding each other. And now we wind up meeting twice in six weeks. I knew it was
possible if I agreed to be Nick’s therapist, but there’s a difference between
knowing something intellectually and actually having it happen to you.”

“Perhaps the two of you could set up some
sort of schedule so that you don’t have to run into each other?” Hyacinth
suggested.

Amphitrite’s brows went up. “Custody of
Olympic Cove? That’s a thought. Although I can’t see him holding to it.”

Hyacinth made a muffled noise of agreement
into her tea. She’d been Poseidon’s sister-in-law long enough to know that he
would ignore an agreement if it suited him. “You’re sure he didn’t say anything
else to you?”

“No. Just stood there like a
self-important martinet and looked constipated. Although I do think he tried to
smile once. I’m surprised his cheeks didn’t crack.”

There was nothing useful Hyacinth could
say to that. “Well, why don’t you arrange to meet with Nick, Aidan, and Liam
somewhere else? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind coming to your condo for sessions,”
she suggested.

The other Nereid shook her head. “I don’t
feel comfortable bringing the
mers
into a human
settlement. Things are tense enough between them and their grotto as it is. I
don’t wish to add more stress if I don’t have to.” She gave her sister a wry
look. “I’ll just have to bite the bullet and accept that I may have to talk to
Poseidon now and then. It won’t kill me, after all.”