Triton’s stone necklace burned against his skin. Someone summoned him. It was early in the morning. Perhaps Nicole was still sleeping. Triton floated comfortably in his sleeping chamber, wishing he could sleep a bit longer. Why didn’t sea creatures need his help in the middle of the day? It was always in the dead of night or early in the morning.
He closed his eyes and focused on the origin of the summons—the Indian ocean, deep in the Somali basin. A vision opened before him. Darkness, pain, the smell of rubble, and the whimpered cry of a Dagonian child. Triton’s brows pressed in confusion. This was the first summons he’d had from a Dagonian in the last two thousand years. After the cursed race killed all of his children, they feared Triton’s wrath—as they should. He would have struck down an adult for summoning him. But a child—never. Still, why would this child choose him to reach out to? Why not Calypso? Still, he couldn’t ignore the call of an injured child. Triton’s eyes shot open. He raced out of his room and nearly plowed Nicole over.
“Oh, wow. You’re in a hurry,” she said.
“I have to go. A Dagonian child needs my help.”
“I thought you didn’t like Dagonians.”
He frowned at her. “It’s a child. I’m not completely heartless.”
“I’m sorry. I know you’re not. Let’s go.”
“What? No. I’m going—you’re staying.”
“Why? Is this child being attacked by an army?”
He shook his head.
“A sea monster?”
“No, he’s trapped in a cave.”
“Well, then there’s no danger to me. I’m coming with you. Maybe I can help.”
He pressed his lips together in a line. “Fine.” Wrapping his arms around her, he flashed them across the world. In a moment, he found himself in the center of a hundred Dagonians. He heard Nicole gasp as she tightened her grip on him. The crowd fell silent—shock written on their faces. But one female didn’t seem to notice his dramatic entrance. Either that, or she didn’t care. She was pulling rocks from a pile of stones at the entrance of a cave, sobbing as she went.
Triton turned to Nicole.
“Go,” she said before he could speak.
He let go of her. Swimming up to the woman, he could feel desperation emanating from her in waves. Triton knew at once that her son was trapped in the rubble. She was beyond terrified. Her desperation so great that she was on the verge of panic.
“Iris,” Triton said, softly. She didn’t respond, just kept up her digging. The water tinted red around her. Her fingers bled as she clawed at the jagged rocks.
He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Iris, I’ll save your child.”
She slapped his hand off. “My baby’s buried! I have to get him out!”
He didn’t have much time. The child continued calling out for help—but his voice was fading. He needed help now, but Triton couldn’t do what he needed to do with the mother in the way.
Triton pulled the woman away from the rubble as she struggled. “No!” she shrieked. “He’s still alive. I have to get him out!” He held her against his chest as she fought him, desperate to get to her son.
Triton turned back to the crowd. “Who is her husband?”
An older Dagonian frowned in disgust and said, “She has no husband. If she did, I’m sure he’d have prevented this whole mess. I tried—” His voice cut off as his hands slapped against his throat.
The Dagonian had said enough.
The woman in Triton’s arms stopped fighting him and sobbed. Triton didn’t want to leave her with any of these men who obviously disliked her, but he must get to the child.
He felt a hand pressed against his arm and turned to see Nicole’s stricken face. “I’ll take her,” she said.
Triton shook his head. “If she fights you—”
“I can handle it, Ty.”
Frowning, not wanting to put her in danger, but feeling more and more desperate to free the child, he nodded. He passed the distraught woman to Nicole, who took her in her arms.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. He’ll save him.”
Triton warmed at her words. The woman couldn’t understand a word of what Nicole was saying, but her tone was comforting and filled with understanding. He drew some of his power from the seawater and touched Nicole’s mind, giving her the ability to speak Atlantian.
He turned his attention back to the situation at hand. Closing his eyes, he carefully directed the water currents through the rocks, pushing them apart, cradling them in the seawater as he gently moved them away. He sought out the child and found that the boy wasn’t far. He could feel what the child felt. A heavy stone pressed against his chest, making it difficult for the boy to breathe. And then there was another heavier stone, crushing his broken fin flat against the seafloor. Triton swam inside the cave. As he lifted several more stones away, he finally found the boy, who looked to be about eight years old. “It’s okay, Marcos. I’m going to get you out of here.”
When Triton removed the stone from the boy’s chest, he took in a whooping breath and blinked at Triton. “I knew you’d come.”
“How did you know?”
The boy looked surprised at his question. “Don’t you know? You’re my great-grandfather.”
Triton was shocked. He knew that he probably had some descendants—his merchildren sometimes fraternized with Dagonians. But for any Dagonian to actually admit they were tied to the Mer was unusual. They usually wanted nothing to do with him.
“Of course I knew,” Triton lied.
The boy’s pained face gained a glimmer of light, and then the light dimmed as the child groaned in pain. “My tail really hurts. Am I going to die?”
He focused and found that indeed, this boy did have his blood flowing in his veins. “No, you’re not going to die, but I need you to hold still.” Triton was not a healer, but with those of his own, he possessed the power to mend injuries, which was exactly what he did. He knit the boy’s broken bones and crushed organs back together, along with his mangled fin. His body straightened as the bones reset and flesh healed. Triton smiled as he finished and looked at his great-grandchild. “There. Do you feel better?”
The boy nodded, beaming at him. “Thank you. I knew you’d help me. My mom told me not to believe all the terrible things everyone said about you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Triton’s heart swelled. It looked like Sara and Xanthus weren’t his only family. He looked up as Nicole let the mother go. She swam to them. The boy wriggled from Triton’s arms and embraced his mother. “It’s okay, Mom. King Triton fixed me. I don’t even hurt anymore.” His mother cried for a long while as the crowd dispersed.
When they were alone, Triton spoke. “So, granddaughter…”
She gasped and paled at his words. “He told you?”
The boy turned to her and said, “Mom, he already knew.”
With the boy’s attention on his mother, Triton locked eyes with Iris and shook his head. He reached out, ruffled the child’s hair, and said, “Of course I knew.”
He looked back to the mother and asked, “Well, Iris and Marcos, how are the Dagonians treating my family?” He tried to keep the tension out of his voice, but he needed to know.
At that question, a scowl settled over the boy’s face. “They’re okay when they leave us alone.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Triton asked.
“Well, I mean, they let me swim wherever I want, as long as it’s outside the city, and they let us fish in the kelp fields at night, and once a month, I get a whole day to do what I want. Last month, I got to see the dolphins!”
“What work do they require of a lone woman and her young child?” Triton asked, not quite masking his anger. His eyes pierced the woman.
“I… you want me to speak?” she asked, her voice so low he could barely hear her.
He sighed. “Yes.”
“Well… I…” She looked down. “Sew. I make window coverings, bedding, and clothing. Abalone shells make for the most beautiful tail coverings. There’s a coral field not far from here. The shells have the most vivid colors.” Her voice grew in volume, and Triton could tell she took pride in her work.
“Ew, I hate abalone!” the boy said.
“You used to like it,” she said.
“I don’t want to eat it every day!”
“We don’t have much time to hunt. I need the shells for the coverings.”
She looked up, meeting Triton’s eyes for a split second before looking back down at the sandy floor. Her face flushed red, and her voice lowered to a whispered. “That’s what I do.”
“And what does your son do?”
“He and the other boys are on clean-up duty.”
“So all Dagonian children have to work?” Triton asked.
Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “No, of course not. Just the ones that have no one to provide for them.”
“But you work,” Nicole said, swimming forward.
“Well, I… I’m just a woman. My work isn’t important.”
“That’s not true,” Nicole said. “It sounds like you create some beautiful things. Your work should be valued just as much as any man’s.”
Iris’s jaw dropped. She looked from Triton to Nicole, obviously wondering if he could possibly agree with something so ludicrous. Well, he did.
“I agree,” he said.
“My work provides us protection and rights to use the hunting grounds, but nothing else.”
“You get no money for all of your hard work?” Nicole asked.
“Money? You mean gold? Oh no! I’m a woman. I’m not allowed to have any gold.”
Triton could feel Nicole’s anger rise, and he knew she was on the verge of a rant. He spoke before she could. “What kind of protection do they give you?”
“They protect us from sharks, sea monsters, and other predators.”
“You do realize that sharks are no threat to you?”
“They aren’t?”
“No. You have my blood running in your veins. Sharks would smell it on you. They are my most loyal soldiers. They would always protect you.”
“Majesty, may I speak to you alone?” she asked.
“Of course, my child.”
Nicole led the boy away. “Can you show me around? Do you know I’ve never met a Dagonian before…?”
As soon as they were far enough away not to hear, Iris spoke. “I have to tell you something, but first, can you promise if you’re angry that you please not take it out on my son? I will take full blame.”
“Iris, I’ve never in my long life harmed a child.”
She nodded, obviously relieved.
“And I would never lay a hand on any descendant of mine.”
“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know that I’m really your granddaughter.”
Triton cracked a smile. “You are my granddaughter.”
“How do you know?”
“I can feel it. You and your son both have my blood in your veins. One thing I don’t know is who your parents are?”
“My mother is Alexandria; she died in childbirth. My father died just after I was conceived. I didn’t even know who my father was until recently. I’m told that his name was Nikias and that he was a merman.”
“My fifth-born son, I should have known,” he said, his smiling expression holding a shadow of sadness. “You have your father’s eyes.”
Iris’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “And as my granddaughter, you don’t need to rely on the protection of Dagonians. If you and your son will accept my mark, no Dagonian or sea creature would dare harm you. But then, I doubt they will let you remain with them. You are welcome to live with me. My palace is large with hundreds of rooms. You and your son can live there, and my servants will provide you with everything you could possibly want. As for work, you only work when you want to.”
Iris looked up to him, her eyes rimmed red. “Why would you do this?”
“Because you’re family.”
She closed her eyes and began to sob. He could taste her tears as they leaked into the seawater. Triton pulled her to his chest, and she tucked her head down. “You’ve shed too many tears today, child. Do you accept my offer?” She didn’t speak, only nodded her head.
“Good, now let’s go get your things.”
She looked up, surprised. Then she looked to the cave of rubble. “I don’t know if any of our stuff survived.”
Triton frowned. “You lived in that cave?”
She nodded and chuckled weakly. “It looked better before it collapsed.”
Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. He searched the rubble. His stomach sickened when he realized how lucky they were. There were not many things left in one piece. It was a miracle that the boy wasn’t killed.
The few items he could find were lifted by the seawater and carried to his hands. All he got was a comb, a bent knife, and a poorly made seashell necklace.
“Oh, thank the gods,” she said, reaching for the necklace. “Marcos made this for me last year. He’d been saving the best shells he could find, and he strung them with braided hair.” She reached up and brushed her fingers over her short hair.
“Is it common for Dagonian women to keep their hair short?”
Her face flushed red. “No. But I can’t afford thread.”
He frowned and brushed his hand over her head. Her hair lengthened and grew, a blond halo around her head.
“Thank you,” she said as she smiled.
“Now,” he said. “Let’s get you settled.”