Chapter Twelve

Present Day

 

Marin could still feel the blade in his chest and he had to look down to check that there was no blood.

“It’s okay,” Caspian assured him as he knelt in front of him. “There’s nothing there now. It’s over.”

Finally he stopped shaking and gathered his wits together.

Medina and Cari stood behind Caspian, but Antar had vanished.

Marin shook his head as the memories of his current life battled against those of his past. There was so much to remember, as well as forget.

“Marin,” Medina said as she carefully sat down on the sand and handed him a goblet. “Drink this.”

“What is it?” Marin asked.

“Just wine.”

Cari took the goblet from Medina and tossed the contents away. “Really, Medina, you know the mer cannot handle strong drink. Here… Try this, Marin.”

Marin stared at the fine china cup. He had no idea what it contained either.

“It’s just tea,” Cari said.

Marin didn’t know what tea was, but he took a cautious sip of the hot beverage anyway. He recognized it as something he had tried in England during his short time there. It didn’t really help with his problem, but at least the trio of immortals weren’t staring at him as though he might have some sort of mental breakdown at any moment.

“Was it real?” Marin asked.

“Yes,” Caspian replied. “We all remember you from before. Now you remember us too.”

“What if I want to forget again?” Marin shied away from the memory of the knife piercing his flesh. He had no doubt he would have nightmares about it for years to come.

“The bad memories will fade in time,” Cari assured him. “Take this from someone who has seen in her visions many deaths and tragedies over the years.”

“That’s not the same thing though, is it?” Marin said. “Watching something and living through it personally are different experiences.”

“Yes, but let me ask you this. Which did you find most horrifying, the loss of your own life or witnessing Calder’s death?”

Marin closed his eyes and gave a small nod. Watching his lover die had been worse than the pain of his own death. The pain of the blade was fleeting compared to the ache in his heart when Calder had been taken from him.

“I need to be alone for a while,” Marin said.

“You aren’t going to do anything foolish, are you?” Medina asked.

Marin shook his head. “I won’t leave this beach. I promise.”

The immortals left him alone as he’d requested and Marin tried to get all the jumbled thoughts in his head straight.

The longer he sat there, the more dreamlike his life as Phoebus seemed.

“But it wasn’t a dream,” Marin said, even though a small part of him wished that it had been.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Caspian sitting against a tree, some way down the beach. At least he knew now why the moody god had taken an interest in his life.

He wondered how much of a resemblance he bore to Phoebus. There were no mirrors in Atlantis and few on the isle of the gods. He knew his eyes and tail colors were the same, but he had no idea about the rest. He thought he might be a little taller now—and maybe more muscular. His hair was darker as well, though the shade wasn’t entirely dissimilar. He was certainly close enough in appearance that those who had known him as Phoebus recognized him in his new life.

Long after the sun had gone done, he felt the presence of someone standing behind him and he turned to see Caspian gazing down at him.

“You should come eat,” Caspian said.

“I’d rather stay here.”

Caspian sat beside him and produced a bowl of what appeared to be some kind of soup.

“I’m not hungry.”

Caspian sighed. “You never used to be this stubborn.”

“I used to be a trusting fool.”

Caspian held up the spoon and guided it toward Marin’s mouth.

“I’m not a child,” Marin muttered, though he didn’t try to avoid the spoon. It tasted good, perfect in fact—just what he would expect from something produced by a god. He took the spoon from Caspian and fed himself.

When the bowl was empty, he put it to one side. “I owe you an apology, don’t I?”

“No.” Caspian frowned as though Marin’s question had confused him.

“Yes, I do. I said you’d never lost anyone and couldn’t understand what I was going through. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I know, but it still must have hurt.”

Caspian snorted. “Forget it. They were words spoken in the heat of the moment.”

Marin took Caspian’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Still, I am sorry I said it. I shouldn’t have presumed.”

Caspian smiled. “Apology accepted. And I’m sorry too.”

“What are you sorry for?”

Caspian gave a humorless laugh. “It would be easier to list what I’m not sorry for. I promised to protect you, and I failed. I dismissed your concerns about my priests, and you lost your life because of it. I should have listened to you. Can we start afresh?”

“I’m no longer Phoebus,” Marin reminded him.

“A part of you is,” Caspian replied.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Caspian let go of Marin’s hand and turned around so he too was facing the ocean. “I shouldn’t have asked you to give up your fins for me either. You’re mer. It’s a huge part of who you are, and I should never have asked that of you.”

“You wanted to keep Phoebus with you, and that was the only way. I understand that. He was prepared to give up the ocean and I don’t believe he would have regretted his choice. He was happy with you and he knew that being immortal would have made you happy too.”

“Still…”

Marin shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. The past is done. Phoebus is dead and we’ve both moved on. You have your life and I have mine. You have your duties and I have my own.”

“You’re talking about avenging Calder?”

“Yes, of course. Did you think that remembering my life as Phoebus would make me forget him?”

“No.”

“Good, because I haven’t. I want you to continue training me to fight Urion, starting tomorrow morning. Will you do that?”

Caspian nodded. “Yes, though I still wish you’d reconsider.”

Marin didn’t bother to reply to that. Caspian knew as well as he did that it wasn’t going to happen. He had told him enough times.

 

* * * *

 

Three days later, Marin was out of patience with training again. He wasn’t going to let Caspian put him off facing Urion any longer. He had tried every argument he could think of before his time reliving the past, but now he had a new one to swing things in his favor.

Marin glared at Caspian. “You complete bastard!”

Caspian stepped back a pace and raised his hands. “Many have called me such. Would you care to explain why you think so?”

“You’re a hypocrite.”

Caspian snorted. “I am many things, but I’m not a hypocrite.”

“You fucking well are!”

“Why would you think that?”

Marin raised his spear and pointed it at Caspian’s throat. “You took your revenge on Rafe, yet you deny me justice for Calder’s murder.”

Caspian grimaced. “Urion will kill you if you face him.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do!”

“Because you think I’m Phoebus?” Marin snarled. “Well, I’m not him.”

“Yes, you are, whether you believe it or not. You could not have relived his memories otherwise.”

Marin faltered slightly. “Maybe I was him once, but now I’m me—Marin—and I won’t let you stop me from avenging Calder’s murder. You did the same for Phoebus, so don’t you dare talk to me about the difference between justice and revenge.”

Caspian flushed and stared out over the waves.

“You took your revenge on Rafe and you have no right to deny me the same.”

“Yes, you’re right, I did take revenge on Rafe,” Caspian finally said. Marin shivered slightly at the coldness in his voice. “I gave him exactly what he had craved for so long.”

Marin frowned. “What do you mean? Cari told me you prevented your father from banishing him with the rest of the Atlanteans.”

“Yes, I did. A new life on land, with no knowledge of what he had done, was hardly suitable punishment for his crime.”

“And what did you think was?”

Caspian held out his hand. “Come with me and I will show you.”

Marin hesitated a moment, but when he placed his hand in Caspian’s, the firm grip was familiar and welcoming.

Caspian led him away from the beach and along the path toward his temple.

Marin's sense of foreboding increased the nearer they approached.

“You feel uneasy in my temple, don’t you?” Caspian said. “Not just now that you know what happened there, but before as well.”

“Yes.”

“It’s because your soul remembered, even if your mind didn’t. Don’t worry. No one in my temple with harm you again.”

“You promised me protection once before,” Marin reminded him. “Or should I say you promised Phoebus?”

“Yes, I did, and you will never know how I have cursed myself for my failure.”

Marin supposed he should tell Caspian that it wasn’t his fault, but a part of him thought it was, and he held his tongue.

“I won’t ask your forgiveness,” Caspian said. “I don’t deserve it.”

They reached the main entrance to the temple, where Caspian opened the doors with a wave of his hand. Everything inside was covered in dust, and weeds had sprung up through cracks in the floor and walls.

Marin’s gaze was drawn to the place at the foot of the steps and his heart raced. The world around him began to spin and spots appeared at the edge of his vision.

“Deep breaths,” Caspian said. “It’s all right. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.”

Marin blinked and realized he was on the floor with Caspian crouched in front of him.

“Perhaps it was a mistake to bring you here,” Caspian said.

“You think?” Marin snapped. “Why did you imagine I’d want to set foot in this place again?”

“For your revenge,” Caspian replied.

“Unless Urion has got a lot smaller, I doubt he’s in your temple.”

“No, he’s somewhere in the Atlantic right now. I brought you here to see Rafe.”

“What?”

“Rafe is imprisoned in the catacombs of the temple.”

“He’s alive?”

“He wanted immortality and to stay here with me for eternity. I gave him what he wanted.”

The grim expression on Caspian’s face sent another shiver down Marin’s spine.

“Can you stand?” Caspian asked, holding out his hand for Marin to take again.

Marin nodded and let Caspian help him to his feet. He deliberately avoided looking at the place where he had drawn his last breath as Phoebus.

“Do you want to leave?” Caspian asked. “You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to.”

Marin was torn. He wanted to get out of here so badly, to return to the sea and the form he felt most comfortable in. Yet he wanted to see Rafe too. He had dropped his spear on the floor and he bent to pick it up. He held it tight. “Take me to him.”

Caspian steered him around the back of the throne and through the doorway leading to the palace and priests’ quarters. The stairs down to the catacombs were dark until Caspian produced a torch, the flame casting flickering lights on the walls.

“Why not use a human torch?” Marin asked as they slowly made their way down the stairs. During his brief time on land, he had seen many wonderful inventions that the humans had made and he wondered why Caspian didn’t embrace them here.

“Habit, I guess,” Caspian replied.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and headed down the long, bleak corridor until they finally reached a thick iron door.

“Here we are,” Caspian said. “Rafe is chained to the wall with manacles made by Andaman himself. They are unbreakable. You will be perfectly safe in his presence.”

“The other gods know he’s down here?” Marin asked.

“Andaman knows what I wanted the chains for. I don’t know whether he realizes Rafe is still here now. He hasn’t asked about him and I certainly haven’t offered the information.”

“What about the rest of the gods?”

“They may suspect, but no one has ever had the courage to ask me about him outright.”

“I wonder why,” Marin muttered sarcastically.

“Am I that unapproachable?” Caspian asked.

Marin shrugged. “You do kind of give off a ‘don’t come near me’ vibe—or you do now, at least.”

“I prefer to be left alone,” Caspian said. “But not by you.”

Marin couldn’t meet his eyes.

Caspian cleared his throat. “Come on. Let’s see what Rafe has to say for himself today.”

The door swung open and Marin took a tentative step forward.

The small room was lit with a single lamp that hung from the center of the ceiling. The room contained no furniture at all and the floor and walls were hard stone.

The sole occupant sat on the floor at the far side of the room. There were manacles around his ankles and wrists and the chains were secured to the wall behind him.

“It’s been a long time,” Rafe said quietly. “How many years have passed since you last visited me?”

Marin glanced at the lamp, having assumed Caspian must visit daily to replace the candle.

Caspian followed his gaze. “The lamp is enchanted to remain lit during daylight hours and go dark during the night. It is all Rafe has to mark the passage of time.”

“And when did you last come in here?” Marin asked Caspian.

“I don’t know. Not since I found you again.”

Rafe turned his attention to Marin and a familiar sneer appeared on his face. “Ah, the merman who captured the heart of a god has returned. Hello, Phoebus. It’s been a long time.”

“Not long enough,” Marin said as he stepped forward.

“Marin has only recently regained his memories of his life as Phoebus,” Caspian explained.

Rafe shrugged and gave the impression of being entirely uninterested.

Caspian leaned against the wall near the door. “As you can see, Marin, there are worse fates than mere death. Rafe dreamed of immortality, and now he has it.”

“You know this isn’t what I had in mind,” Rafe snarled.

“Yes, I know,” Caspian agreed. “You thought you would spend eternity in my bed.”

“If you’d given me a chance, I could have made you love me,” Rafe said.

“No one can make someone love another,” Caspian replied.

“I think Medina might disagree with that,” Marin interrupted. “She certainly managed to work her magic on you.”

“Medina had nothing to do with my feelings for you,” Caspian said.

“Are you sure about that?” Marin asked. “You said yourself that she’d slipped you a love potion.”

“Later,” Caspian said before turning back to Rafe with that same cold stare. “How many times do I need to say it before you believe me? I will never love you. There is nothing you can say or do that will ever erase your crime.”

“That half-human didn’t deserve immortality. For one such as him to dare to touch a god was an insult to me and every other priest who had sworn devotion to you. He never prayed to you. He never worshipped you like I did.”

“I didn’t want his prayers,” Caspian said. “I had followers, those who devoted their lives to me. I didn’t want that from him. He made me happy like no one else did.”

“You didn’t give me a chance,” Rafe argued. “I could have won your heart in time.”

Caspian shook his head. “Even after all these centuries, you still don’t understand. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not here today to listen to the same false words.”

“Why are we here?” Marin asked.

Caspian gestured to Rafe. “This man took your life. He took his ceremonial dagger and used it for the most vile of crimes. This man murdered you. I give you your vengeance.”

Marin gripped his spear tight. “What are you saying?”

“From the moment my mother worked her magic to ensure you would be reborn to this world, I knew you would one day return to me. It was inevitable. For all that time, I have kept him here, ready for you to face him.”

Marin stepped back until he hit the wall. “You want me to kill him?”

“Why are you so shocked?” Caspian asked. “You seek to kill Urion for what he did to Calder. Why should it come as a surprise to discover that I would wish the one who killed the man I love to die?”

“But you said he was immortal.”

“He does not age, he cannot starve to death and illness cannot touch him. But just like any of the gods, he can be killed.”

“He won’t do it,” Rafe said. “He always was a spineless little half-breed.”

“Quiet.” Caspian waved his hand, and although Rafe continued to open and close his mouth, no sounds came out.

Marin stepped forward again and pointed his spear at Rafe. “Not today,” he whispered. “I think you should live a little longer.”

Without another word, Marin left the room and practically ran down the corridor and up the steps. He didn’t know if Caspian was behind him or not. He didn’t care. He had to get away.

Once he was outside, he gulped in air and threw the spear to the ground.

Then he ran again, heedless of where he was headed, until he collided with a hard body.

“Steady there,” the Atlantean said.

“Isander!” Marin fell to his knees, shaking violently. His stomach lurched and he thought he might vomit.

Isander rubbed his back, the gesture comforting and familiar. “Feeling better?”

Marin nodded. “I remember you.”

“We former sea dragons are rather hard to forget,” Isander replied with a grin.

“No, I mean from before.”

“Before?”

“From when I was Phoebus, in a former life. You escorted me to Caspian’s temple.”

Isander stared at him for several long seconds. “Is it going to sound really bad if I say I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

Marin smiled and shook his head. “It was a very long time ago.”

“Perhaps you’d like to refresh my memory then?”

“There’s not much to say. I had asked Medina for help in breaking my mating fever. She asked you to take me to Caspian’s temple. You escorted me, flirted a little and that was pretty much it.”

Isander smiled. “Well, that certainly sounds like me. I never could resist a handsome man. I presume Caspian helped you with the mating fever?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Well, that’s good. And now he’s helping you again.”

Marin looked at him curiously.

“I’ve seen you training with him on the beach,” Isander explained. “You’re planning on taking on Urion, yes?”

“Yes.”

“You do know he’ll kill you almost instantly?”

“So everyone keeps telling me.”

“That’s because they’re right. If sea dragons were easy to kill, we wouldn’t have lived as long as we have. Many a time a ruler of Atlantis has decided we’re too dangerous to have around and thought to destroy us.”

“They have?”

Isander settled himself on the grass and Marin made himself comfortable beside him. “Not for a hundred years, but yes, they have. Even bound and defenseless, the sea dragons were practically invincible.”

“Practically?” Marin focused on the word that gave him a tiny sliver of hope.

“While we were collared, we couldn’t breathe sea-fire, but even without our main defensive mechanism, they could not destroy us. Before the mer forgot how to conjure sea-fire from the tridents, there was a time when the guards tried to take out one of our more troublesome members.”

“Urion?”

“No, not that time. Every mer in Atlantis fired tridents at the dragon at the same time. They aimed for the eyes, the mouth, the joints, everywhere they thought they might find a vulnerable spot.”

“What happened?”

“They were reminded that sea dragons are not so easy to kill. They eventually gave up, at least until another king decided to give it a try. That was the only time they even came close to killing one of our kind. The prolonged attack weakened him, and it might, in time, have killed him, but it didn’t. It did remind us that we weren’t immortal, though, and after that, we tried not to draw too much attention to ourselves. To remain useful, if you like, so the mer would keep us around.”

“But it is possible to kill a sea dragon?”

“It is, but you’re forgetting something most important.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we were collared, we could not summon sea-fire. Urion is no longer a prisoner of the mer and his greatest weapon is in full working order. It was nearly impossible to kill a captive sea dragon, so how much harder do you think it would be now?”

Isander spread his arms and gestured for Marin to look over his body. “Not a single scar mars my body, because no weapon can break the skin of a sea dragon. The eyes and mouth might be vulnerable, but you’d never get close enough to find out.”

“There has to be a way to kill him.”

“Not while he stays in his current form,” Isander replied. “You cannot face a sea dragon and live, but—”

“But if he were to become human again…”

Isander smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”

“But what if he doesn’t become human again?”

Isander laughed loudly. “He will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because inside that dragon’s body is a man, and that man will be as horny as the rest of us after centuries of abstinence. Sooner or later he will resume human form again. Take my word for it.”

“What’s to stop him becoming human and turning back into a sea-dragon again as soon as someone tries to attack him?”

“It doesn’t work like that. Mariana is the one who has the power to change our forms. She turned back those of us who renounced her, rather than risk us defeating her loyal priests. She isn’t going to give Urion the power to change back and forth at will.”

“Why would she turn him back into a human at all? Surely it serves her purpose to keep him as a sea dragon?”

“It does.”

“Then it’s hopeless. I have to find a way to defeat a sea dragon. They must have a weakness somewhere.”

“They don’t. I told you. Urion will want to take human form eventually, and when he does, you’ll have your chance to take your revenge.”

“That could be years away.”

Isander laughed. “I give him six months at the most—less if he finds out Mariana has taken another lover. He always was the jealous type and a dreadful complainer.”

Marin sighed. “Are all priests of the gods and goddesses the jealous types?”

“No. I never cared who Mariana was fucking. I only shared her bed once and I could barely manage to perform my duties at all.”

“I suppose preferring men might be something of a hindrance.”

“Yes. Thankfully she soon realized what the problem was and never bothered me again. If I had known my initiation into her ranks involved bedding her, I’d never have sworn myself into her service. Actually, with the benefit of hindsight, that’s not the only reason I should have stayed clear.”

Isander shook his head and gave Marin a rueful smile. “Just be patient. Urion will walk on two feet again soon and you’ll have your chance.”

Marin wasn’t so sure, but he supposed if anyone knew about Urion, Isander would be the one to ask.

“So, what has you racing around the isle like the place is about to sink into the sea?” Isander asked.

Marin sighed. “Did you know Caspian has one of his priests imprisoned in the catacombs below his temple?”

“No. I’ve only been in his temple a handful of times, and I’ve never been in the rooms beneath it.”

“It’s Rafe, his head priest.”

“I wasn’t aware he still had any priests.”

“Rafe held the position when the Atlanteans were banished,” Marin explained. “He killed me.”

“What?” Isander gaped at him.

Marin rubbed at his bare chest, feeling once again the sharpness of the blade as it tore into his flesh. “Phoebus,” he corrected. “He killed Phoebus.”

Isander took Marin’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

“He was jealous of me, so he decided to get me out of the way forever.”

Isander gasped. “You’re the merman Caspian fell in love with, the one he petitioned the pantheon to make immortal.”

“Yes.” Marin gestured to the decaying temples around the isle. “It’s all my fault that the Atlantean gods are now reduced to this.”

“No,” Isander replied. “Whatever happened, you were not to blame.”

“If I had never accepted Caspian’s offer, the Atlanteans would still live in the city alongside the mer. Your gods and goddesses would be powerful still. Mariana wouldn’t have turned her priests into sea dragons to avoid them being banished. Urion would be long dead and Calder would be alive.”

“You don’t know that. Some things are destined to happen, no matter what we do.”

Marin shook his head. “I chose to accept Caspian’s offer to join him in his bed. I should have turned him down.”

Isander snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“What?” Marin thought he might have misheard.

“You’re an idiot,” Isander repeated. “Caspian loved you. This was a god who slept with more men in a week than some might bed in a lifetime.”

“That’s hardly something to be proud of.”

“I’m not saying it is, but he was going to give that up for you. He was prepared to devote eternity to just one man…you. He loved you and you’re sitting here saying that you think you should have broken his heart.”

“He’d have got over it,” Marin said. “He has got over me.”

“You think so?”

“Of course. It’s been centuries.”

“Centuries that he has devoted to protecting the mer,” Isander said. “I wonder why that was?”

“Because he couldn’t protect me,” Marin whispered.

“Yes, exactly. I’m not saying he’s been celibate all this time, but you only have to see the way he looks at you to know that his heart is still broken. He isn’t getting over you any time soon.”

“Well, he’ll have to sooner or later,” Marin said. “I’m not Phoebus any more. He died in the temple, and he’s not coming back.”

“There’s a part of Phoebus inside you,” Isander said. “His soul lives on.”

Marin heard the sound of someone moving in the shrubbery behind him and glanced over his shoulder. It came as no surprise to see Caspian watching him silently.

“I think you should talk to him,” Isander whispered. “Properly.”

Marin nodded. He guessed an honest conversation was long overdue.