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

Greatness is in no way random.  It must be sought after, pursued, captured.  The Orcas that surround me filling my heart with terror – I throw my head back and laugh anyway.  The massive Gryphon who would be king looks at his razor-sharp talons, then the naked Mermaid he imagines shredding with them – I demand his submission regardless.  All others simply come of age, but not this future queen.  I’ve come to mold and make my own the Age we were born into.

– Diedrika, Mermaid Princess

– Late Spring, Year 4,233 KT
[1]

“I know that look, Diedrika.  I’ve seen it before.  I would beg Poseidon to steal away the shadowy stare that so easily finds your face, but he would just laugh in my own face if I did.  So here we are, yet again: Your mind seeks to go where no one dares follow and your heart aches to take it there.”

Diedrika breathed out a fake smile – her Queen Mother was right, of course.  But this was not so bad.  Many things required hiding, but some things never would: Her attraction to power, great respect for those who could do what few could and outright indifference for the rest, a grand promise she would make to them all the first day she sat upon the throne.

Dinner devoured and the picnic with her parents near its end, Diedrika turned away from her mother and set her eyes upon the majestic power now frolicking about the waves.  The majestic power she craved for herself.

“Beautiful beyond compare, they live in families just like us.  I often hear their clicks and squeaks ripple through the waters – in their own way, they speak to each other.  Just like us.  And if a Mermaid has ever been killed or even wounded by one, I have never heard of it.  Considering all these wonderful things, why do you so fear Orcas, Mother?”

“Because you don’t,” Andromeda snapped back.

Diedrika turned to her father, Perseos.  His colorful tail uncovered like hers, he looked his usual dashing self in a sky blue tunic trimmed in gold.  As Perseos stroked a beard few Mermaids dared wear, Diedrika caught him shoot a quick glance at Andromeda before he again focused on her.

“My dear daughter, it is because of this fear no Orca has yet to take a Mermaid’s life.”  Perseos tipped his head down, but kept his stern stare steady.  “Although one bold enough, foolish enough, to violate this caution could very well be the first.”

“They are the size of ten snow bison,” Andromeda added as Diedrika again set her gaze on the group of whales breaching and splashing about.  “Traveling in packs, preying upon any creature that dares to cross their path – ravenous wolves not of the land, but of the sea.  And have you seen them play with their food?  Even while their prey still draws breath, an Orca will just catapult a penguin or sea lion through the air!”  Andromeda chuckled.  “Although even
I
must admit, that is quite a sight.”

Diedrika nodded at her mother’s words, but did not turn to her – she instead kept her eyes affixed on the pod.  The sun swiftly dropping into the sea now cast a pleasing orange glow upon them all.

“Yes, Mother, you are correct in all you say.  Nevertheless,” she inhaled deeply; her pitch became more serious, almost smitten, “… their show of power – an effortless power – is intoxicating to watch.  I can feel it emanate across the waters … crash into the beach with reckless abandon … flow through me with great vigor as if trying to teach me how to use it.”

Diedrika turned to her mother and assessed her blank expression.  She then did the same to her father, returned to meet Andromeda’s now icy glare, unleashed her fakest smile yet, and threw her hands into the air.

“Alas, I am just a Mermaid.”

*****

“Good morning, Princess!” Penelope said breathlessly as she let Diedrika into her chambers.  Although she was not part of the royal family – not by blood anyway – as the Mermaid historian, Penelope lived in the palace as well.

“And a beautiful morning it is, sweet Penelope!  Even better, I have ordered breakfast for us and it’s on the way.”

As Diedrika glided through the doorway, an oversized clepsydra molded from just as much silver as bronze rang out eight bellowing chimes.  It was a good deal earlier than she normally woke – noon would not arrive for another two full turns – but an excited mind had a way of putting tired eyes to bed.  And if there was ever a day for excitement to ripple through Diedrika, today was it.

Their breakfast delivered and seated at a quaint table –
Poseidon’s tail did Penelope eat!
  Enough food to fill the bellies of three fat Mermaids having disappeared from heaping, but now empty plates, Diedrika just looked in awe at Penelope.  Skinnier than most Mermaids – where it all went was anyone’s guess.  Diedrika chuckled as she thought this, refilled their goblets, and got right to the point.

“If I were to suggest that you have had precious little to write about on those shiny copper plates of yours, would I be correct?”

Penelope seemed amused at this question and smiled.  “You have suggested correctly, my future queen.  When not writing about you, it seems that I am only left with markedly more exciting things to scribe about like yet another newly carved sculpture or fountain that is little different from any others scattered about the city.”  Penelope sighed.  “I thought that when I became historian I would be scribing about, well, history.  Meaningful history, at least.  Perhaps you have you come to relieve me of this cantankerous writer’s block?”

Diedrika loved Penelope for her humor and quick wit.  Although nearly a decade older, she thought of her as an older sister more than a historian.  Every Mermaid ever born possessed a shade of red hair and emerald green eyes, but beyond these two traits, they even looked a bit alike.  And thank the gods for Penelope – Diedrika’s one true friend – because it gave her all the excuses she ever needed to stay away from her idiot brothers, Betrugen and Verrator.

“Most definitely,” Diedrika laughed aloud as she rose up, “even if it kills me.”

And it just might!

Diedrika glided to the door, but then spun around once she reached it.  Still seated, Penelope just gawked at her.  “I’ll be back a couple of full turns before dusk.  A little adventure for just you and me – what say you?”

“As there is no more exciting Mermaid to be in the company of, I’ll be right here waiting for you.  And just where will we be going, Princess?”

“Somewhere special.”

“What will we do when we get there?”

“Something special.”

“And why will we – oh, don’t bother answering, I already know: ‘Because
somehow
,
someway
, it’ll be special!’”

“To do what no Mermaid has ever done before – be ready, my friend!” Diedrika called out as she glided through the door and hurried away before Penelope could ask her any more questions.

The morning and afternoon were gone before Diedrika knew it –
full turns of the clepsydra tended to pass quickly when spent gathering your courage the entire time.

Penelope retrieved, they headed northeast in a small carriage led by two palominos.  A full turn or so after they had departed, but still at least a full turn before sunset, they reached their destination: The same shores Diedrika had shared a picnic with her mother and father the day before.

Although Penelope asked Diedrika more questions on the way than there were grains of sand on the beach they now glided on, she had deflected every one of them.  Now where sand met sea, the cool, bubbly foam soaking Diedrika’s scales tickled the lower third of her tail pressed flush to the ground.  Time to reveal her plans to Penelope – she began to do so.  More than once Penelope’s lower jaw dropped onto the sand as if a clumsy puppeteer was in control of her facial expressions, but Diedrika politely set it back where it belonged each time.  Her plan revealed, she gawked at Penelope in glorious anticipation….

“You’re going to do
what
?” Penelope screeched as her cream-colored palla fell from her head.

Diedrika just nodded happily.

“Wait, I’m the elder Mermaid here – I won’t allow it!”

Her hands thrown on her hips, Diedrika raised her left eyebrow high in the air and shot Penelope her sternest pout.

“
Really?
”

“Yes,
really
.”  Penelope threw her hands on her hips as well, but she really needed to work on that pout.  “The time has come for my common sense to overrule my sense of adventure.”

Diedrika held out her arms from her sides, open palms up.  A blue glow emanated from each.  First came the hum.  Then came the scratching sound of a blade slowly scraping stone ––

“Okay, okay, but why?” Penelope pleaded.  “
Why
do this?”

The glow faded from Diedrika’s palms and she dropped her arms back down.  The only sounds now were the ebb and flow of the waves and a few squawking birds nearby.

“Because until I do, Mermaids do not rule the ocean,” she pointed at the sunlit sea, “they do.”

“But to tempt fate in such a way, Princess,” Penelope said sadly as she played with the folds of her light blue stola, “you could be killed.”

“
Or
,” Diedrika drawled, “I could be wildly successful.”  She pointed to the cleft on the limestone cliff where she had suggested Penelope perch herself.  “Either way, no matter what happens, you’ll have something to scribe about
and
a great view of it.”

Penelope pulled out her walking sticks, pushed them under her arms, and began the short trek to this cleft.  As Diedrika watched, the terror of what she was about to do began to seep into her.  Maybe this came from the warm air, the sand beneath her tail, or somewhere else, she did not know; she spun around to face the sea, “And I don’t care,” she growled through gritted teeth.  Diedrika then ran her hands along the molded bronze that hugged her silk seafoam green corset.  This thin layer of bronze covering her torso was really more for show than anything else.  If they
really
wanted to kill her, no breastplate, no matter how thick, would save her.

Diedrika waded out from shore, swam underwater for a bit, and surfaced.  She peeked up at Penelope for a moment, and then swam toward the pod; unaware of her gamble or just pretending to be, the whales continued to frolic and splash about.  It would be sunset soon – that Diedrika chose this time was in no way an accident.  After years of watching them, Orcas appeared more relaxed and playful when the sun was close to setting.

Although almost seventeen, Diedrika shook like a terrified child as she waded closer to the pod.  She kept her head above the surface and moved slowly as not to agitate the seemingly contented whales.

Including the matriarch, now nowhere in view – Diedrika was sure she had seen her when first entering the sea – eight Orcas made up this pod.  The matriarch was one of the larger whales, but certainly not the largest:
that
would be the dominant bull.  This one a massive creature, if his dorsal fin was not as tall as she was, then she was shorter than a daisy.  Their shiny skin gave Orcas a majestic look, but also made them somewhat hard to see as the rays of the setting sun ricocheted off both their bodies and the surface of the water.

Closer … closer … it was suddenly obvious; the pod had sighted her.  Lazy clicks and squeaks were now high-pitched, more rapid.  Nearly hyperventilating, Diedrika finally began to calm herself, but this would not last long.  Fear and distress were well on their way.

The seven Orcas that Diedrika could see suddenly peeled off in different directions.  Three of the whales – the massive bull was one of them – disappeared into the shimmering shadows below.  Diedrika’s head back above the surface, she watched warily as the other four, each about twenty pike lengths away, began to encircle her.

Curse the gods!  Were they eyeing her juiciest pieces?

Furiously trying to decide if she should flee (“To where exactly?”), bronze-make a weapon (“And do what with it?  There were FOUR of them!”), shout out to the heavens that just this once she should have listened to her Queen Mother ––

The bull Orca suddenly breached.  All but the tip of a fluke and edge of his left pectoral fin fully out of the water, such an elegant presentation would have delighted Diedrika if he was not so close and she was not trembling in terror.  The colossal whale landed on his left side; an immense splash pummeled Diedrika’s face and the spectacular wave that threw this splash propelled her backward.  She frantically wiped the foaming water from her eyes.  The massive bull now nonchalantly cruising passed her; he tilted to his right side, and started to shove water into her face using his left pectoral fin.  After five or six of these unfriendly splashes, the boorish bull swam away, then descended into the deep, and was gone.  As if by magic, the four whales that had been circling her also vanished.

“I guess I’m all alone now,” Diedrika gasped as she turned her head in every direction.  She gulped.  “Or not!”

A dorsal fin rising high above the surface now charged straight for her.  She swiveled around; another dorsal fin in the exact opposite direction headed for her at full speed as well.  Diedrika submerged below the surface.  Loud, rapid clicking bombarded her ears.  The shadows caused by the setting sun gone, the sea was now as clear as a cloudless sky.  And sure enough, two Orcas were closing rapidly.

Still slightly below the water’s surface, Diedrika pushed both hands behind her back.  As she brought her glowing palms to her front in an arcing motion, she bronze-made matching rectangular shields that curved outward – they were nearly as tall as she was.  One in each hand and held tight against her body, these shields molded what was essentially a bronze cocoon around her.

The clicks and squeaks coming from the charging whales now almost deafening, Diedrika could feel these sounds repeatedly bounce off her shields.  Thrusting her powerful tail back and forth to keep from sinking, she looked through a crack where the two shields met: knifing through the water, almost upon her … mouths open….