Rising Read online

  ~Deep in the Mediterranean Sea—Twenty Years Later~

  Xanthus could taste the blood of a human in the seawater. He clenched his fists and swam faster, determined to reach his destination in time. His powerful tailfin drove him forward as he speared a path through the water.

  Beams of sunlight danced over the ancient, stone road—the glow slightly dimmer than moments before. Nightfall approached. The high walls of deep ravine towered above and lined the path. Darkness seeped from the jagged rocks in the cliff walls, filling crevasses with blackness as shadows stretched across the highway. The stones on the path peaked from under the sand and silt, showing Xanthus the way to Atlantis.

  Atlantis was the road’s destination, not his.

  The gorge widened, opening into a clearing as the rocky walls disappeared into the darkness. Silt swirled, clouding the seawater. The sharp, mineral taste of human blood washed over his tongue—stronger and thicker. A hum of voices signaled he’d reached his destination. As he moved forward, the voices rose in volume. A roar of outrage ignited other angry voices churning in the water. Through the haze, a mob came into view.

  A snarling voice pierced the sea. “Gut the human and let it watch as we feed its entrails to the sharks!”

  Xanthus headed straight into the crowd, shoving his way through a sea of grey tailfins and muscled arms.

  Another voice raged. “Tear it apart, piece by piece. We all deserve a souvenir. I want its scalp.”

  From a distance, another voice said, “I want its heart.”

  Xanthus pushed two fellow Dagonians apart and came face to face with one of the most fearsome and deadliest soldiers in the sea—Kyros Dionysius.

  “Xanthus, thank the gods you’re here,” Kyros said. “Your brother’s crossed the line this time.”

  “Gael? What did Gael do?”

  “He pulled a human off a dock. It wasn’t even in the water!”

  “I’d heard rumors...” Xanthus shook his head. “I didn’t want to believe them.”

  Xanthus looked at the crowd. His older brother knew the punishment for this act—imprisonment. At least it used to be. In reality, Xanthus doubted his brother would ever see the inside of a prison cell. After the recent slaughter of Dagonians in the South Pacific, Gael would likely be hailed as a hero for this act. It didn’t matter to the Dagonians that the humans didn’t know what they’d done. The humans had no idea they even existed.

  Xanthus caught sight of the air-filled sphere holding the prisoner. It rocked back and forth by the chaotic movements of the Dagonians swimming around it. Six strong soldiers held on to the ropes tethering it down and about twenty other soldiers kept the crowd at bay.

  The sphere was smaller than Xanthus had expected. Dirt and blood smeared the inside, making it difficult to see in. As he moved closer, his stomach sickened when he got a look at the human. A small woman cowered in the center of her prison; tear-smeared dirt caked her battered face.

  One Dagonian rushed between the solders, bared his teeth, and roared. The soldiers pulled him back as the woman screamed and scrambled against the far side of the chamber. To say she was frightened would be a gross understatement. A Dagonian mother seeing her only child in the jaws of a kraken couldn’t have been more terrified.

  “Ah ha, the Nightmare of the Deep has arrived.” Gael smiled as he approached Xanthus. “So glad you could join us. Are you ready to live up to your name, brother?”

  Xanthus pounded his fists against Gael’s chest, shoving him back. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” Gael snarled and pushed back. “I’m dealing out justice.”

  “Justice? Why? What did this human do?”

  “You dare ask that question while the flesh of three thousand Dagonians rot in the South Pacific?”

  “Yes, I dare.”

  Gael looked at Xanthus, disgust oozing off him. “The humans are a plague. They’ve overrun the planet. They’ve poisoned our seas. We can no longer stay down here and pretend they don’t exist.”

  “There are better ways to handle this. Torturing and killing this woman will accomplish nothing.”

  “Wrong!” Gael shouted. “This is the best preparation I can give my men for the war to come. I can’t have them hesitate to kill any human—man, woman, or child. I chose this human because she’s a female, she’s beautiful, and she made the mistake of throwing her trash into our sea. And that’s what every human has done—you can’t deny it. They’ve dumped so much garbage down here they’ve poisoned our homes. We are forced to swim in their filth. She’s as guilty as the rest and she’s going to suffer sorely for her transgression.” Gael neared the sphere and sneered. “There’ll be no quick and easy death for this wretched creature.”

  Xanthus continued to scowl at his brother, saying nothing.

  Gael turned back to Xanthus. “So what do you think I should do? Petition the gods?”

  “That’s exactly what I’ve done,” Xanthus said. “I sent a message to the Guardian. I have every intention of ending this war before it begins.”

  Gael laughed. “Triton? What a waste. He hates us. Even if he does answer you, it will mean your death. You’re such a fool.” Gael turned from his brother, raised his fists to the crowd, and shouted out as the mob cheered him.

  Xanthus looked back on the woman with pity. She was not supposed to die. Only humans who presented a threat for Dagonian discovery were marked for imprisonment or execution. Xanthus had captured and executed many humans himself over the years. Those kills had been justified—this death was not. At least it hadn’t been. This woman just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But now that she was here, Xanthus could do nothing for her.

  Her eyes locked on his. “Please help me,” she said. “Don’t let them hurt me.”

  This human seemed smart enough to recognize pity. Xanthus didn’t answer her. For him to nurture hope would be futile. He could give her no hope.

  “This has to be a nightmare,” she said. “Mermaids are supposed to sing songs, sit on rocks, and comb their hair. You’re all just monsters.”

  Thank the gods the Dagonians surrounding her didn’t understand her language. Xanthus was one of only a few Dagonians in the sea that could. It was a good thing for this human. If there was anything a Dagonian hated more than a human, it was a Mer.

  “Don’t kill her,” a voice shouted. “Make her suffer. Make her suffer until she begs for death, and then make her suffer more.”

  “Yes! Make her suffer,” they all echoed.

  Gael shouted, “She will suffer! I will see to it she suffers a much as any being can without causing death. Once she’s given us all the satisfaction her misery can bring, then and only then, we will kill her. And her death will be the first of many.”

  “Death to the humans!” a voice called out. A wave of voices caught the wake of that plea—the whole crowd shouting and shaking their fists. “Death to the humans, death to the humans, death to the humans…”

  Xanthus’s jaw clenched and his lips curled in disgust. They were acting like monsters. He looked back to the woman. She sat, wrapped her arms around herself, and sobbed.

  As Xanthus approached her, she crawled up onto her knees and pressed her bloodied hands against the sphere. With desperation dripping from her quivering lips, she mouthed the words, “Help me, please.”

  And so he did.

  He released her. The sphere shattered and dissolved into the sea. The incoming seawater slammed into her body, the incredible force crushing her. She died instantly—her eyes forever open, forever pleading, and now forever void of life.

  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 weapo
ns 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 around 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.

  Fear 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.