lucius
Though it was still dark, he could smell the rising sun. The heat it brought to the wind warned of its arrival, carrying a stale, smoky taste only those outside in the early hours could pick up. That is, if they weren’t swept away by the peaking radiance of the glistening stars above.
Lucius sighed, still unable to reconcile all that had transpired over the last hour. He watched the woman that was supposedly his granddaughter stomp her way around the deck, offering him a glimpse of himself as if holding a mirror.
Sandrine slid beside him, the exact image of the creature he’d known as a child, her presence an eerie reminder of the true nature of immortality. He could remember pieces of his many lives before this one, but it was unfathomable to picture an eternity in the same body when living inside one that had seen barely a century turn.
She studied him with her bright mosaic eyes, the shades of green and flecks of gold all the more brilliant in the moonlight. “So. You escaped her clutches after all.”
Lucius looked away as he thought of Angelique, still infuriated by the fresh knowledge of her true identity. There was a brief time when he thought he loved her, a wayward boy manipulated into believing she was his savior. He’d been convinced she was the woman he’d seen in his dreams, the manifestation of a young girl with sparkling blue eyes and hair that matched the ravens swirling around her. He tried not to think of the actual woman that fit that description, who laid alone in bed beneath his feet. Instead, he recalled the deception that helped him escape from Angelique’s control, replaying the murder of his keeper, Kali, and how he ended her life with a satisfying crack of the neck. “I did have some help,” he reminded Sandrine.
She smiled. “I was happy to hear you made contact with Thoth. He goes by Thomas now.”
Lucius turned back towards Cahira, who was now angrily skewering hydra parts with her sword and tossing them over the edge. “Does she know your true history?”
“The time for revelations will come,” Sandrine dismissed, leaving his side to approach Cahira. She was immediately met with combative, wildly gesturing arms. Their inaudible conversation ended with an audible growl as the earth witch relented, stomping his way with a scowl.
Although she was much shorter than him, she had an enormous presence, and he was momentarily taken aback by how similar her eyes were to his, blazing golden orbs struggling to stay within their confines. The clipped horns that betrayed her liminal nature were hidden behind her wild, chestnut curls, a splash of freckles across her nose. His mind flashed to the moment he’d met his other descendants, Hekate and Dragos, a fleeting moment that pulled nothing out of him at the time. He longed for such emotionless moments now. He once convinced himself that immortality robbed creatures of empathy, that it was the antidote to the curse of human emotion, but feelings plagued him in this life more than ever before. Perhaps he’d come back wrong this time. Perhaps he was now like David. He frowned, reminded of his discomfort with his brother and Morrigan’s close proximity below deck.
“Come on, Gramps, you’re coming with me,” Cahira broke in as she brushed past him.
He blinked in surprise before chuckling to himself. He decided he liked her.
One of the masts had split during their attack but still managed to hang on by a few strands of rope. She unwound the broken bits, the jagged tears in her linen shirt exposing her muscles as she worked. “In the last few hours,” she began through gritted teeth, “I’ve discovered my mother was a demon, my father was a centaur, the woman who raised me was a goddess, and the only creature I have ever loved now sits at the bottom of the sea. It is taking everything in me not to destroy the entire world right now, and I would appreciate it if you could just follow my orders right now. Do we have an accord?” She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, her visage a perfect combination of him and Morrigan.
Yes, he definitely liked her.
He lifted up the mast with a grunt, pushing it upwards into place and holding it steady. She seemed surprised he had the strength to do so but didn’t hesitate, quickly gathering the fresh rope and twisting it around the column so it would stay in place. Eventually, she made her way up the other mast to the top, performing a near impossible balancing act as she tied, knotted, and pulled them into submission.
“You don’t speak much, do you?” she finally remarked as she worked upside down, her long hair hanging like a curtain below her determined face.
“I have long learned not to provoke a woman in the midst of a rage,” Lucius told her, continuing to keep the mast still as she wrapped.
“Well, don’t expect me to forgive her any time soon,” Cahira muttered as she flipped herself forward, landing easily on her feet. “You can let go now; it should be steady.”
Lucius released his grasp, looking up to observe the impromptu repair held firm. He noticed the stars had reached their brightest moment against the dark, velvety sky and took a moment to admire them. “She has always loved very deeply,” he told Cahira softly. “I don’t imagine you’re an exception.”
“She held me against my will while my partner chose martyrdom,” Cahira deadpanned, bringing his eyes back down to her. “That is not love, that is betrayal.”
Lucius sighed. “I suppose you could see it that way.”
Cahira drew closer, staring up at him with angry amber eyes. “I will forgive her when you bring him back.”
Lucius blinked. “Whatever gave you the idea I could do that?”
“Oh please. You are the strongest amongst us. No matter how many times anyone has tried to kill you, you still manage to live on. I know you offered to open up Tartarus when that creature attacked us, but she refused to let you die, sacrificing Dan instead. Tartarus was once your realm, and if anyone can open it, it’s you.”
Lucius crossed his arms. “If you think I would take my own life to retrieve your petit copain, you are gravely mistaken.”
She looked confused. “That’s not what I meant at all. We all must be together to save the realms. However, we are headed to meet Anubis, who commands the spirit world. Between you, him, and I, I think we can manage to open up the gates of hell. Unless you are afraid.”
Lucius laughed, amused despite himself. “You are aware that neither David nor Libraean would agree to something so unpredictable. Morrigan may not even acquiesce.”
“Well, they don’t have to know, now do they?”
Sandrine appeared behind her, examining the mast. “Will it hold?” she asked.
“It will get us there,” Cahira replied.
Lucius felt a shift in the air, realizing David had joined them. The mere sight of him filled Lucius with dread, reminding him of the promise he’d made to himself not to feed the flames of his resentment. Nevertheless, his temperature rose, drawing a curious glance from Cahira, who seemed to sense it.
“Should we start now?” David asked, carefully avoiding Lucius’s glare. He looked better than when they first met in London, his cheeks fuller, his forest green eyes free of the shadows that had lingered beneath them.
“Yes.” Cahira resumed her haughty, authoritative tone. “Sandrine will steer, and I will help you summon the wind. I absorbed some of your power a few days ago when I drank your blood.”
“You drank his blood?” Lucius repeated in surprise.
“He was my captive, and I needed to be sure he was who he said he was,” Cahira explained. “The best way to learn a creature’s secrets is to drink its blood.”
“Interesting,” Lucius commented, finally able to meet David in the eye. He was pleased to observe hostility flashing back his way, to notice the slightest twitch in his facial muscles. David was beginning to remember him. “I’ll leave you to it,” Lucius said cheerfully, abandoning them abruptly as he headed back down into the hold.
As soon as his feet hit the watery cabin floor, he was struck with the overwhelming urge to go to Morrigan, her scent lingering in the air, calling to him. That was the one aspect of his life that had always been constant: his love for her. He once viewed it as obsession—an irrational, volatile urge to possess her and have her beside him at all times. It was something he’d tried to fight, but fell for repeatedly, a torment like no other. Yet something had shifted. He was an intelligent man, and he knew what he felt was still not the healthiest love, but obsession had tempered itself. He assumed it was his period of introspection in the Underworld, although he was still surprised it kept its hold. Even as he discovered her again, piecing together memories from their past and becoming something entirely new, he was able to maintain a respective distance, honoring the independence she cherished. At least for now.
He noticed Libraean sitting at the table, despite the cold ocean water that swirled around his feet. His gray hair lay rumpled around his ears, and he rubbed at darkened eyes. “Where is she?” Lucius asked him.
“Resting,” the elderly liminal replied, placing his glasses back on his nose. The thick frames blurred both his clear blue eye and the dead one Lucius once plucked from his skull. “I’ll have you know, I told David everything that transpired in his absence...except what happened in the Underworld.”
