Proven (Daughters of the Sea #1) (10 page)

"Tomorrow..." he promised in a hoarse whisper. Reality and dreams merged together as I fell asleep to the mesmerizing thudding of his heart and the sensation of his warm palm massaging my back.

F
INN

"I should have known something like this would happen."

"Mom, there's no way you could have known this would happen. You couldn't have done anything to prevent it anyway," I reassured her carefully. "Besides, Hecate should have done something. She still could. But she hasn't. And this isn't the first time."

"Not the first," she mumbled with a frown. I hated seeing my mom upset. It happened so rarely, but when it did, I wanted to do anything to bring her smile back. She shook her head and closed the book with contempt. At first I was overjoyed to have the Book of Souls and Key of Tribeca back, but then Mom made the mistake of flipping through and discovering almost one hundred names of witches who had died in the last five months. She began reading each and every name until I stopped her. Speaking their names would not undo what had been done. Seeking retribution for their deaths might not either, but it was exactly what I wanted. Selene deserved to burn in the darkest depths of Tartarus for all of eternity, and I intended to do everything I could to make that happen. Ian finally waltzed into the room after ensuring Phoebe was okay.

"I'm here," he announced grandly.

"Fantastic," Ricker muttered sarcastically; giving Ian a reason to punch him playfully.

I glanced at Mom, who was still deep in thought; her blue eyes laden with mourning. I gathered her into a hug and kissed her on the cheek.

"Finn." Mom eyed the Book I held in my hands. "Leave the Book here."

"Mom, it needs to go back where it'll be secur-" I started to argue...unsuccessfully.

"Finnegan."

My stubbornness collided with her stern gaze and my heart collapsed at the despair I found there. I couldn't risk the book being stolen once again, but I also knew how to pick my fights. And if keeping the Book on Atlantis would ease my Mom's pain, then it would stay. I handed it to Ian, who left once more to deliver it back to Maera for safe keeping.

We were on our way to the Underworld to return the items Olivia brought back with her, do a little research on the witches, and get Father's thoughts on Liam. I still found it hard to believe my best friend was capable of such betrayal.

"We're meeting your father at the Edifice," Natasha briefed me, her eyes growing misty despite her best efforts to hide her emotions. I considered how I would feel if one hundred sons had suddenly died with little or no explanation. The torment of knowing their blood was on my hands would be debilitating, but I was their Leader. Mom was only a descendant. It was a little different.

"It's going to be okay, Mom." I placed my hands on her shoulders lovingly.

"You're a bad liar." She ventured a smile and pinched my cheek.  I wiggled out of her grasp and hugged her again.

"Let's do this." Ian jogged back into the room with anticipation and then plopped down next to Ricker on the couch, who flicked his ear for good measure. Before they could regress back to third grade wet-willies, I pulled Mom toward them so we could leave.

"Remember," she said, and then eyed Ian and Ricker meaningfully, "Your Sons' essence only goes so far. Your souls will only have about an hour."

"Who's going to stay back and watch our bodies?" Ricker grinned wickedly. "They might get taken advantage of."

"That's what I was hoping for." Ian elbowed him with a snicker right before I smacked him on the back of the head. Mom ignored them and closed her eyes. The room around us began to blur and I felt the telltale pressure squeezing my essence as we filtrated from one realm to another.

The ground beneath my feet hardened into unyielding granite and my entire body relaxed with the powerful welcoming of the birthplace of my essence - the Underworld.

"Whoa," Ricker choked on his own words as he got his first glimpse of the Underworld. Ian's eyes expanded into saucers and they darted back and forth, selfishly soaking in our surroundings. We were standing on a scraggly stone overhang, hundreds of feet above the trees below. My father's home was perched upon a single slab of granite, deemed the Edifice, which stretched higher than any other point in the Underworld. It was only wide enough for the house itself and sat precariously between several mountains full of beasts that could be heard, but never seen.

To our right were sprawling metallic forests, while to the left, the pulsing glow of the river of fire as it meandered around Tartarus. Straight ahead was my father's lake, as well as Persephone's groves far in the distance. It was hands down one of my favorite places in the Underworld.

"I see you've brought quite a motley crew along this time," my father's voice wisecracked behind us. His thunderous voice could be felt in the bottom depths of one's soul and I had long wished my voice had the same effect. Mom attempted in vain to make me feel better by assuring me I simply took after her, which did absolutely nothing to comfort me.

We all turned in time to see him envelop my mother's slight figure in his arms with pure devotion and love. His darkness softened tremendously as he held her and my heart soared to see them together. It was something I never tired of. She was only allowed admittance to the Underworld five times a year; all granted by Persephone for the very purpose of spending time with Father.

The fact that she used one at my request reminded me just how lucky I was to have her. I knew she would do anything for me without a second thought, and I took great care to never take advantage of her giving nature. They exchanged several words that we couldn't hear and I watched him frown in response. Once he sufficiently showered her with kisses and a smothering array of hugs, Father turned his attention to me. The unruly mop of white hair and full beard shone brightly amidst the gleaming metallic hues of the Underworld, and his startling blue eyes sparkled as he took me in with a proud smile.

"Finnegan," he boomed with open arms, welcoming me in a bear hug that almost crushed my ribs.

"Father," I acknowledged as I embraced him. He kept an arm around my shoulders and diverted his gaze to Ian and Ricker, who were currently having trouble speaking. Their freakishly wide eyes jumped from the house, to Father, and back to the house again.

"Are they mute?" Father whispered jokingly to me.

"I wish," I chuckled.

"Ricker, Ian." Father walked toward them, wrapped a strong hand around the back of both of their necks, and yanked them in for a joint hug whether they liked it or not.

"It's an honor to see you again, sir," Ian finally managed from Father's armpit.

"Come," he insisted. "Let's move this gathering inside."

My field of vision was immediately engulfed by the magnificence of my father's home, which never ceased to amaze me. Everything about it oozed...Charon. Standing five stories tall with geometric architecture, it was, in itself, a striking mirage. The whole of its exterior was constructed with colossal mirrors. With only the reflection of our vast surroundings seen on its walls, the corners of the house were its only discernable features. Across its roof spread the sky above, while the soaring mountains continued uninterrupted across its sides. From a distance it was completely invisible, reflecting and blending into the landscape regardless of the person's viewpoint.

In contrast, when seen up close you could pick out the lines of the frame and - more telling - see yourself as you walked up towards the equally invisible door. Once inside, the walls that were mirrors on the outside acted as windows from the inside, boasting panoramic views from every spot of its five stories.

We filed through the mirrored front door and entered the opulence of the main room. Its masculine decor was complete with clean lines and geometric shapes in every corner. We followed father to its center, where a sunken circular couch enclosed a fire pit. A mirrored round chimney hung down from the cathedral ceiling, hovering directly over the fire pit to allow an exit for the potent fumes. The circular couch easily held all five of us as we eased onto the cushions and Father flicked a finger, casually igniting the fire pit.

"So tell me, my Sons," he began regally. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"We brought this." I handed him the black slab of onyx; the Key of Tribeca.

"Of course you did." He smiled nonchalantly and held up the Key to inspect it. "I had no doubt you would be successful." I exchanged a pensive glance with Ricker, failing to disclose the fact that we hadn't actually found it. Selene let us off the hook by giving it back. As he turned it over in his seasoned hands, it suddenly clouded over and became completely transparent. He set it down and I watched in awe as it morphed once again to solid black.

"We also have the Book of Souls, but it's still on Atlantis."

"At my request," Mom assured him, a hidden meaning simmering just below the surface. He asked no questions; trusting her fully and waiting patiently for her to continue. "It has come to my attention there have been hundreds of witches who've died recently." He took her hand as she spoke, solemn understanding passing between their gazes.

"I've escorted only twelve in recent months. Seven of natural causes. Five were not," he explained plainly. Death was not taboo down here, nor did it elicit sorrow. It was simply a numbers game to Father; his occupation.

"The names were listed in the Book, and we have reason to believe they are being manipulated by Selene."

"Listed, or scripted?" Father asked with a furrowed brow.

"Listed," she clarified.

"So they're ghosts," I continued. "But we don't know how Selene has obtained power over them."

"She couldn't." He shook his head. "That is simply not possible."

"Then how...?" Ricker began.

"With the Reaper in Tartarus," Father's mention of Nadia hardened every muscle in my body with rage, "Persephone has yet to appoint someone to take her place; thereby leaving the souls at risk. They would be required to find their way here without her assistance, or judgment."

"But hundreds of them? And all witches?" I challenged skeptically.

"I have no answers for you," he addressed my apprehension with warning in his dark tone. "I can only tell you they have not made their way to me. You are aware Persephone has no obligation to update me of her reigning duties."

"We have reason to believe the witches are being used to destroy the Nereids' crux," Mom piped up, unfazed by his dark tone. "I need you to petition Persephone and provide me information. Hundreds of witch souls being used to further Selene's agenda is unacceptable."

"I will see what I can find out," he assured her nobly. His previously harsh eyes immediately filled with adoration and Ricker shot me a look, silently jeering my inability to influence my father. I answered with my own warning look and he bit his lip in an attempt not to laugh. Father shared a long look with Mom before speaking once again. "There is more."

"Tell me." Mom's body visibly tensed as she leaned forward.

"There has been talk of a shift." Mom's quick intake of air had me pressing for more.

"A shift?"

"With the increased...betrayal that the witches have felt due to Hecate's abandonment, there has been strife among the higher ranks. Talks of a new leader - a new Goddess."

"They can't change their connection with Hecate," I dismissed.

"They can't," Mom replied with a raised eyebrow. "But it is not impossible for someone else to shift their essence enough to permanently sever the connection."

"Wait, what?" Ian stared at her, utterly flabbergasted.

"Persephone?" I surmised. Only someone with darkness in their essence would be able to pull that off. The witches' essence was of the Underworld, and not just anyone could make that kind of shift.

"It is possible," Mom countered in deep thought. "But I am unsure as to why she would take on that burden. She is tied to the Underworld, and I can't see it benefitting her whatsoever."

My mind reeled. If the witches were shifting their essence to a new Goddess, could Selene have found a way? My thoughts turned to Liam and my heart hardened.

"Speaking of abandonment," I sighed with contempt. "Liam has abandoned the Tritons and appears to have joined with Selene."

"Liam?" Father questioned with surprise.

"Since Willow's death he just hasn't been the same," Ricker explained. "She must have offered him something he couldn't refuse, but we don't know what."

"I escorted Willow to the Fields," he decreed, remembering fondly. "I believe she would be saddened to hear of that news."

"Could we talk to her?" Ian's eyes lit up with hope.

"No," Father deflected quickly and focused a disciplinary gaze on him. "The souls are to have no knowledge or interaction with earthly transgressions. They shall remain at peace. There will be no exceptions."

"We need to get you boys back." Mom raised an eyebrow at Ian and Ricker. Father stood.

"It sounds like there are changes coming," he announced ominously, and trained his focus on me. "You are to ensure the Sons remain intact and of one mind. Your duty lies in your Order and in protecting our essence. If a time comes where you must choose sides, choose wisely. The consequences could be immense."