Chapter Thirty Three
Daphne
Eron frowns as Gwyneth explains why and what we need his blood for. “Won’t that kill me?”
She shakes her head. “No, I don’t believe so. The Idols who have manipulated, killed, and coveted will find themselves in trouble, but those of you already reaching for that freedom, I think it’s going to help you.”
“That’s a lot of think and not enough know,” Hart mutters.
I elbow his ribs, making him grunt. “I don’t see you coming up with anything better.”
He leans back against the sofa and folds his arms while my sister continues to field Eron’s questions.
Considering we’re asking him to become part of the solution, which may bring war and destruction to his realm, his unease is understandable.
Although, if I’m honest, he seems to be taking it all in stride.
Genie appears in front of me and eyeballs my twin sandwich, which appears to have become the norm. Again, this is why there should be double sausage and one bread. Ratio problems.
“It’s all arranged,” he declares.
I arch a brow. “That was quick.”
“Poseidon is keen to be free of the ocean. I think he’s craving less fish and more meat.”
Not unreasonable, and a fine motive rooted in culinary tastes.
“Did you mention what we need?” I ask.
“No, I’m leaving that little nugget for you to deliver.” Genie wiggles his fingers. “When you’re ready.”
“What’s with the fingers?”
“I’m trying to tell you to stand up so I can open a portal to the ocean and deliver you down there.”
I blink. “I’m meeting him in the ocean?”
“That’s correct.”
“But I’m no longer the Lady of the Lake.”
“Also correct.”
“So, not to state the obvious, but how am I going to breathe underwater?”
He raises his finger, and his mouth falls open. “Hold, please.” He disappears.
“Seems like he’s forgetting key information,” Malachi murmurs.
Genie reappears. “Good news, I have permission to give you the power to breathe and move in the ocean as if you were the Lady.”
I jump to my feet. “Great.”
“But you’ll need to bring Excalibur.”
I side-eye Malachi. “You up for a little swimming?”
“Anywhere you go.”
“I didn’t say you could bring a knight,” Genie points out.
“He comes with the sword. No knight, no sword.”
Genie tilts his head like he’s working through the logistics. “I can swing that.”
“Excellent. Grab the judgy sword, Malachi, we are off on an adventure to convince an old dude with questionable tastes in the bedroom to give us his blood.”
Nash strides down the corridor with an armful of books. He sees me and smiles, making me remember everything he’s done to my body. Soon, I’m going to crawl into a bed and stay there for an annus so all the knights can have their wonderful, wicked way with me. Just have to start a revolution first.
“Where are you both going?” he asks.
“To see Poseidon,” Theo growls. I’m aware he’s holding on to his dragon by a thread, but if I didn’t do something every time one of them growled, I’d never move.
“At the bottom of the ocean,” Hart adds.
Nash freezes. “Breathing isn’t an issue?”
I point at Genie. “Apparently not.”
Nash sighs. “Make it quick. According to the map, it’s going to take two diurnals to get to the temple, and that’s without any bandits, villain interventions, or reorganization of realm rules.”
“Be quick. Got it,” I say while saluting him.
He eyeballs Malachi as he slides the sword into his belt. “And you have two jobs.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Malachi says. “Keep her safe.”
“And?” I wonder.
“Keep myself safe,” Malachi adds.
Gwyneth purses her lips as Genie creates a portal leading straight to the ocean. Here goes nothing. “Get three vials,” she instructs as I step through the odd, shimmering oval.
“Why three?”
“Diaster planning.”
Fair enough. I don’t want to have to go back because I accidentally swallowed some Idol essence.
Malachi grabs my hand, and I lead the way. “I’ll reopen the portal in this spot in two turns,” Genie says.
I nod, and a tempo later, we are beneath the ocean once more. Well, once more for me, first time for Malachi. He puffs out his cheeks and blinks at me.
“You can just speak and breathe as normal,” I tell him. “I find it best not to think about being beneath the ocean. This is just another diurnal where we beg an Idol for his blood.”
Malachi’s eye twitches. He better not pass out on me. I don’t have time to drag a knight around.
A tempo passes, and he finally gives in and risks breathing. Once, twice, and then he smiles. There we go.
I roll my eyes. “Told you. Just act normal.”
“Daphne,” a female voice cries out. “You have returned.”
I spin, noting that we’re on the outskirts of Poseidon’s palace. Linda, my funny and delightful seahorse, swims toward me.
“I am, for a short time.”
She glances at the sword at Malachi’s side. “You deemed him worthy, and yet you live?”
Malachi tenses. Sore topic.
“Long story. I died, then I came back.”
“I always knew you were different.”
Not sure if that’s a compliment, but I choose to take it as such.
“You know a seahorse?” Malachi mutters.
“Not a stretch given where we are,” I point out.
An army of tiny seahorses swarm toward us, with another adult at the back.
“Are these the kids?” I ask as a few of them bump into my skirts and bounce off while giggling.
“Yes, and that is Steve. Don’t mention our time together. He gets jealous that I have a life beyond him and the kids.”
Steve makes it to us, looking exhausted and like he needs a good annus of rest floating on a warm current or whatever they do down here for relaxation. “Hey, dude. I heard all about you and what a great parent you are.”
His lips ripple as he glares at Linda. “You talked about me to your buddies? Shared our personal information?”
“Just that you’re a good dad,” I say, trying to help.
“Stop,” Linda hisses. “Our species don’t understand each other. Your race has to do odd things to convince them to insert their penis.” She stares at Malachi. “You do those things?”
“She means orgasm,” I mutter.
“Yes, Linda, I do those things,” Malachi says. He’s trying his best not to laugh, but he’s a tempo away from falling over.
“Fascinating,” Linda says, looking him up and down. “Can I watch?”
“Absolutely not,” I snap.
Malachi covers his mouth and shakes his head. “Sorry, Linda, everything Daphne does in the bedroom is for our ears only.”
“Our?”
“My brothers and I.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Four. And yes, we are all in love with Daphne.”
She looks me up and down with respect. “I do believe you are an icon, Daphne Stone.”
“Oh, great. Now you’re making poetry about the last Lady while I deal with a thousand poops a day,” Steve grumbles.
Linda rolls her eyes. “Frank will be here shortly to take you in to see the king. Try not to mention the bedroom incident unless he does. He was rather sore about it for a number of tides.” She ushers her brood of tiny, very cute, giggling seahorses and her moody male toward the vast ocean.
“Well, that was different. But impressive,” Malachi mutters. “I’m not sure there’s a realm immune to your charm.”
“Wait until you meet Poseidon. Whatever you do, do not agree to any situation in a bedchamber. It will scar you for life. Even dying doesn’t burn the trauma from your brain.”
Frank appears with his trademark scowl in place.
“He’s a merman,” Malachi whispers.
“Mm-hmm.” I wave at my grumpy guide. “Hey, Frank. Long time no swim.”
“Your ocean jokes are abysmal,” Frank says in greeting.
“Yikes,” Malachi says. “Tough crowd.”
Frank jerks his head. “Follow me. Let’s get whatever this is over with.”
I smile as we follow. “What did you do to him?” Malachi wonders.
“Me? Nothing. This is actually Frank on a good diurnal.”
“No, it’s not,” Frank calls out. “Any diurnal with you in it is a bad one.”
“Tough love,” I explain to Malachi.
We pass by many sea folk who all eye us curiously.
Trumpets sound, and we stride toward the throne and the man in question, Poseidon. He leans forward and curls his fingers around his chin. We get to the bottom of the steps, and I do a weird curtsey on account of the slow ocean current.
“Thank you for seeing us,” I say.
“You brought me a knight,” Poseidon bellows. The water pulses around us with his power. Oof, that’s potent.
“You asked for the sword, and the sword is his. They’re a package deal.”
“That’s right—the Lady who lived.”
“I have a nickname?”
“You have many,” Poseidon answers. “But to get to the point—you owe me.”
“I do.”
“And yet, you seek an audience to once again ask something of me.”
I stand taller and stare down an Idol. Malachi’s hand rests on the base of my spine in support. “You got this.”
I do. “There’s a spell, one which will undo the old ways of the Idols who want to keep people trapped in the narrative, much like you are.”
“I’m listening.”
I explain about the spell, the summons, the power, and how it should be distributed.
Poseidon listens with great interest until I’m all out of words and begging for his blood. “Do you understand that there are layers of Idols? A hierarchy, if you will.”
“I didn’t know that, no.”
“What does that mean?” Malachi asks.
“When the Grimm brothers first created us, we became the architects and helped them build worlds and find new wonders. I myself am responsible for no fewer than four hundred different narratives.”
“That’s insane,” Malachi breathes. “I don’t think I even know four hundred stories.”
“That’s where it went wrong. The first generation, myself included, knew the wonder it created and the joy to be found in letting characters run riot and discover new realms. But some of those characters got greedy and squashed competing stories to hoard the power for themselves.”
“How many first gen of you are there?” I ask.
“Five.”
“Are you all still around?”
Poseidon nods. “Around, but trapped in various states like myself. The important thing is, your spell and rebellion will free us if I’m right.”
“And you have no issues with the redistribution of power the sisters are trying to achieve?” Malachi checks.
“Of course not. I want a free life. I don’t want to babysit narratives; I want to create them, to help them grow and evolve.”
This feels too easy. I suppose at some point, something has go our way.
“So you’ll do it?” I ask.
“Of course.” He waves his hand, and a vial of blood appears in his hand.
“Actually, I need three.”
“What for?”
“In case I drop one, for example. Or ingest it.”
“I don’t want to know your kinks.”
Pot calling kettle. I glare at him, letting him know I remember everything.
He rolls his eyes, and two more vials appear.
Malachi steps forward to take them.
Poseidon’s gaze falls to the sword, and he licks his lips. “May I touch it?”
I bristle. Oh no, you may not touch his anything.
Malachi freezes before withdrawing Excalibur.
Poseidon’s fingers glide over the blade, and he sighs. “My greatest object.”
Oh, fine, so long as it’s just the metal he covets.
“One diurnal, we shall be reunited,” he whispers.
Then, with a nod in my direction, he releases the vials to Malachi. “Do not fail me, Stone Sister. I am a fair Idol but a temperamental one.”
I curtsey again before Frank ushers us back to the portal. Everything went swimmingly. Pun intended.
I glance over my shoulder before I step through the shimmering oval. There’s a heavy feeling in my chest that I can’t shake. We’ve come too far to fail now. Going back to how it was is no longer an option.
Good thing I have no intention of failing.