Of Poseidon 02: Of Triton

as Tira, a Triton Tracker’s daughter. “Pick,” Emma tells her.
    Tira’s lip trembles. She tries to back out of sight, but someone pushes her forward. “Pick … Pick what?”
    Emma motions to the halo of predators above them, around them, everywhere. “Pick two. Any two you want, and I will have them divide Jagen’s body evenly.”
    “No!” Jagen screams, his face contorted in terror.
    Emma cocks her head at him. “Jagen, make up your mind. Didn’t you just say you don’t believe I have the Gift? So then why should you care if she points to some harmless sharks?”
    He clamps his mouth shut, but the look of panic stays.
    Tira says, “I couldn’t do that, Highness.”
    Highness! Someone called Emma “Highness”! It’s one of the many names she calls Galen when she’s mad at him. The irony is not lost on Emma. Her death glare cuts off his snickers.
    She turns back to Tira. “Of course you can. There’s nothing to worry about because Paca has the Gift, remember? Isn’t that what you all believe? She would never let any harm come to her own father, would she? I know I wouldn’t. So go ahead and pick. Paca will save Jagen.”
    Clever little angelfish . Galen smirks at Jagen, who won’t meet his eyes. Nalia and Grom make their way to the edge of the center. Grom grins at Emma likes she’s his own daughter. Which is very weird for Galen.
    Tira takes a deep breath. “Okay. Since you put it that way.” She eyes the living wall surrounding the Arena and points. “Those two right there. The two striped sharks.”
    Emma smiles. “Excellent choice.” She waves to the tiger sharks. As she opens her mouth to give the command, Galen sees a movement from the corner of his eye. A Loyal Tracker raising his hunting spear.
    “Galen, watch out,” Rayna rasps, remnants of her voice coming through in fractured rifts of clarity. The water around them seems to rumble. Could one of the volcanoes be awakening? An eruption on the full assembly would be the worst possible thing Galen can imagine.
    Apparently startled, Emma moves in front of Galen, poised to shield him—from the spear or the eruption, Galen’s not sure. In a swift motion, he tucks her back behind him.
    The weapon leaves the Tracker’s hand. It’s the longest second of Galen’s life, waiting on that spear. Instinctively, he snatches Emma closer to him, covering every inch of her with him. He feels the small wake of the spear as it swipes past them. That was too close.
    At first, Rayna’s growl barely gets Galen’s attention. After all, it sounds like mere frustration, the familiar beginning of a normal tantrum. But this growl builds, swelling into a roar. The cracks in her voice seem to meld together again, creating something new. Something that hasn’t been seen in many, many generations.
    She draws up, as if collecting some invisible power around her.
    And her scream moves the water.

19

    ONE SECOND I’m clinging to Galen for dear life, the next I’m separated from him and pushed back by … Rayna’s scream ? Is that possible? I look around at the new faces of Syrena surrounding me, eyeing me as if I pulled them back with me. They are all as shocked as I am. Five seconds ago, we were about thirty yards closer to her.
    She blew us over like empty aluminum cans in the wind.
    And it looks like she’s about to do it again. She turns, takes a big breath of water into her lungs, and screams at a large Syrena male who just tried to spear us, near-hysteria on his face. The momentum of her voice is visible, causing the water in front of her to warp and surge and spread like giant hands reaching toward the Syrena with the weapon.
    He doesn’t have a chance to get away. The sound wave slaps him dead-on, carries him up and over the crest of the small valley—are those freaking volcanoes?—and through my wall of sea creatures surrounding us. It even pushes back some of the biggest whales.
    The upchurned earth starts to settle around us. It looks like a dust storm in the desert, but the water eases the sand back down instead of all at once. The valley looks freshly swept. All eyes are on Rayna, who is now bordering what looks like a major case of hyperventilation.
    “Nobody hurts her, you understand?” she says, her voice now completely intact. “I won’t … I won’t let you.”
    Some of them back away from me. Others talk among themselves. “Gift of Triton,” they whisper to one another. Toraf looks like his jaw might fall off.
    Rayna