Poseidon's Children by West Michael

Author:West, Michael [West, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Seventh Star Press
Published: 2012-03-16T05:00:00+00:00

THIRTY TWO

Night dives were like walking in space; the feeling of near weightlessness, surrounded in all directions by cold darkness. The only way humans could visit this environment was either dressed in protective suits, or in the confines of specially built craft, bringing their own bottled atmosphere with them. Peggy Hern had been on night dives before, but her swim to Colonial Bay was an entirely different experience.

Tiny fish swam by them in rivers of confetti. They approached the reef separating the island from open water, and it was like flying over the surface of another world; coral stems grew as candy-colored grass, forming a living mound of activity. Next, Peggy saw huge tree trunks standing in her path and climbed them with her eyes, discovering that they were actually stilts, a foundation for the town’s boat docks. She could clearly see the undersides of ships made shadow by the moon above.

Barbara led her through this forest of posts toward a rock wall. At first, Peggy didn’t understand where the old woman was taking her, but then she saw an opening. They entered the fissure, swam through the tunnel beyond, and surfaced in a large cavern.

For a moment, Peggy could not breathe, then gills instinctively passed the baton of respiration to her lungs, allowing her to inhale and exhale normally. She didn’t know if the lungs had suddenly reformed, or if they sat dormant within her chest while she swam. It didn’t really matter.

Upon closer inspection, Peggy realized this was not a natural cavern, but a crafted one. The walls were covered in odd hieroglyphics, and candles sat on perches in the rock. At the center of the cove stood a huge statue, a stone monster; it resembled the creatures that hunted her, but this one wore a toga.

“Where are we?” Peggy asked, not recognizing her own gurgling voice.

“The temple of Varuna.” Barbara lifted her arms as if to embrace the idol. “Below the church.”

Peggy nodded, looked at her hands and feet; they were still webbed. “How long can I stay...like this?”

Barbara shrugged. “As long as you want, child. You’re one of Poseidon’s children now.”

“What’s that mean?” Peggy demanded. “I don’t even know what the hell that means!”

Barbara crawled from the lagoon and walked into the heart of the chamber, beckoning Peggy to follow. The air was cold against her nakedness, but the reverent flames of a hundred melting candles lent the altar some welcomed warmth. A book sat on the granite table, a volume so old that it looked as if it might crumble at the slightest touch. Barbara did touch it, however, and, as she opened it, its binding moaned. On the yellowed pages within, Peggy saw the same pictographic language that adorned the walls. Barbara translated the story, or perhaps it was a Reader’s Digest synopsis from memory.

“A long, long time ago, the gods came upon the Earth and its riches. They descended from the heavens, and, from the world’s creatures, created the clans of the earth, of the sky, and of the waters.

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