Warriors of Poseidon 02.5 - Shifter's Lady

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    Beside her, Erin sighed and shook her head, her blonde curls shimmering in the magically created sunlight that replaced the rays of a sun that had never dared venture so far beneath the sea. Erin put her hands on her hips in that peculiarly human gesture that both she and Prince Conlan‟s beloved, Riley, favored when they were frustrated.
     
    Humans. Marie marveled anew at the idea that she had two human friends, when no human before Riley had set foot in Atlantis for more than eleven thousand years.
     
    “Not again, Marie,” Erin said firmly, tapping her foot in mock impatience. “We are not going over my duties in the temple one more time. As First Maiden of the Nereids for more than three hundred years, don‟t you think it‟s time you had a vacation?”
     
    “But Lord Justice—”
     
    Erin sobered, the playfulness fading from her face. “No one wants to find him more than Ven and I do, Marie. You know that Conlan and Ven and all the warriors have done nothing else but search for Justice since he…since he…”
     
    Erin‟s voice trailed off, as she visibly fought for control. “He sacrificed himself to that monster to protect me. To protect Ven and me. We will never give up.”
    Marie hugged the shorter woman, offering up yet another silent prayer that Lord Justice yet lived. After admitting to the shocking truth that he was half brother to Prince Conlan and his brother, the Lord Vengeance, Lord Justice had offered himself to the vampire goddess Anubisa in exchange for his brother‟s life. Marie had heard the tale of it many times but still could not comprehend the courage it must have required to voluntarily submit to the goddess of all Chaos.
     
    Especially knowing of Conlan‟s seven years of torture at her hands.
     
    Erin took a deep breath and stepped away from Marie‟s hug. “But life goes on. It always goes on. Women still come to the temple for help with their pregnancies and childbirth, Shifter’s Lady – Warriors of Poseidon 2.5

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    and even though I am no temple-trained midwife, the gems give me the healing power to help them.”
     
    Marie smiled at the understatement. “You are our gem singer, Erin. You sing the healing power of the stones to our women and babies. You healed Riley and the unborn heir to the throne of Atlantis. Do not discount your Gift.”
     
    “I don‟t discount it, or I never would have agreed to this. The responsibility for the unborn children of Atlantis is an enormous one, far too much for a single witch,” Erin replied. “Or at least it would be if you hadn‟t trained me yourself, surrounded me with your very knowledgeable temple acolytes, and watched as I used my Gift to sing healing and peace to women in labor.”
     
    Marie‟s desire to visit her brother, Bastien, and meet his new love, Katherine, pulled at her, but still she was torn. “I feel as though I were abandoning my duties at a time when all Atlantis must work together.”
     
    Erin‟s blue eyes softened with sympathy. “I know. But you deserve this time, Marie. And your brother and Justice were very close, weren‟t they?”
     
    Marie‟s lips curved into a smile. “Yes, always. Thick as jellyfish, those two.”
     
    “Thieves.”
     
    “What?”
     
    “We say „thick as thieves,‟” Erin said, laughing. “Although I must admit that thick as jellyfish makes more sense.”
     
    Marie studied the witch who had captured Lord Vengeance‟s heart and restored the glory of the Temple of the Nereids through her gemsong. Abruptly, she nodded. “Yes.
    Shifter’s Lady – Warriors of Poseidon 2.5

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    You are correct. Bastien will be nearly insane with rage and worry for Lord Justice, and even more so from the frustration that he could not immediately join the search. I must go to him.”
     
    Almost as if on cue, an icy wind swept between and around them and resolved itself into the shimmering form of Poseidon‟s high priest, Alaric. He wore his customary black clothing, and the fire in his green eyes burned starkly in his drawn face. “Are you ready for the journey, Lady Marie?” he asked, his voice raspy as if little used in recent days.
     
    “I am,” she replied, inclining her head to the priest. He carried such a weight of bitter anguish with him, but it was not the pain of injury or illness. She sensed it was an emotional suffering but would never presume to impose upon his privacy by asking, no matter the whispers that had circulated