Dragons gift the protect.., p.73
Dragon's Gift: The Protector Complete Series: Books 1 - 5, page 73
part #0 of Dragon's Gift: The Protector Complete Series Series
“Run!” I sprinted.
Ares followed.
Rocks fell all around us. The tunnel was collapsing. I dodged boulders and leapt over debris, glancing behind me briefly to see that the tunnel was gone behind us. Rocks fell in greater numbers at our backs, closing off that direction.
I sprinted harder, lungs burning, desperate to outrace the falling stones.
Damned tricky gods.
The ground vibrated with every falling boulder, shaking my bones. Light glowed at the exit, growing larger as we neared. A beacon of hope.
We spilled out onto the forest floor as the tunnel collapsed entirely behind us. Dust billowed out, choking me.
I rolled onto my back, gasping.
“You all right?” Ares asked.
“Yeah.” I conjured a bottle of water and gulped, then handed it over to him. I lay on my back, staring at the canopy overhead.
Ares drank.
“Hephaestus is a jerk.” Had the god done that just for kicks?
“Agreed.” He turned to me. He was flat on his back too. “You did good.”
“So did you.” I leaned over and kissed him. “Great phoenix.”
“Great job figuring out what we needed to do.” He cupped my face. “You can do this, Nix. I believe in you. I’ve never believed in anything so much in my life.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “Thanks.”
I squeezed his hand, then heaved myself up and took in our surroundings. The forest was bright, as if day had come.
“Shouldn’t it be night?” I asked. “It was nearly dark when we met Pan.”
“Should be, but I don’t think this place is normal.”
“Definitely not.” I pulled the mirror from my pocket and looked at Drakon. The sky was slightly darker.
Shit.
We needed to hurry. I called on my dragon sense, letting it catch me around the middle and drag me forward.
I pointed ahead of us. “That way.”
We set off through the woods, weaving between large trees.
My hair stood on end. “Feel that?”
“Like we’re being watched.” He looked around, his eyes alert. “But I hear no footsteps.”
“Neither do I.” Nor did I see anyone lurking in the trees. It was more a feeling than anything else.
Soon, we came upon a shore of a glittering blue sea. Fine white sand covered the beach. Twenty yards down, a large rock sat on the shore.
“We have to cross.” I looked around for a clue. This seemed too simple. I could just conjure a boat, and we could row across. That seemed pretty easy.
Too easy.
4
“Hey!” A voice sounded from down the beach, garbled and strange.
I turned, spotting the same rock resting on the beach. But it was moving toward us.
“A giant turtle,” Ares said.
He was pale green, and at least ten feet across. I’d never seen one so big. His eyes gleamed a brilliant emerald. They stayed glued to us as he moved nearer, his flippers awkward on dry land.
“A sea turtle,” I said.
“Points for the lady,” the sea turtle said. “I am Nestor.”
As he neared, I realized that he looked far too big for his shell. His softer bits positively burst out of the holes. Even his expression looked uncomfortable, like he was wearing a too-small shoe. Up close, the shell itself was beautiful—a shimmering green.
“What are you doing here?” Nestor demanded.
“We need to cross the sea,” I said.
A crafty look entered his eyes. “Do you, now?”
“Yes. We’re after the stone of Synnaroe. We need to protect it from great evil.”
“Which would make this a quest!” he crowed.
“I suppose so, yes.”
“Then you will need my help,” the turtle said. “You cannot cross the sea of Poseidon in anything other than a material from the sea itself.”
“Really?” Ares looked skeptically at the sea. “It looks like a regular sea.”
“Hardly.” Nestor shook his massive head. “But I can help you. And it won’t cost you hardly a thing.”
“What do you mean?” A rustling sounded from behind me. I turned and looked, but saw nothing in the forest at our backs. I turned back to the turtle.
“Well, you see, a turtle’s shell can make an excellent boat. If you help me find a newer, larger shell, then I will give you my old one, and you can ride across the sea in it.”
“Turtles don’t change their shells. Hermit crabs, yes. Not turtles.”
“You’re in the land of the gods, sugar. You really think turtles follow earthly rules here?”
Sugar? Was this turtle watching TV from the 80s? “You have a point. But it’s round. I’ve never seen a round boat. How do we steer?”
“The Welsh managed with the coracle. I’m sure you can as well.”
True enough. The ancient round boat of the early Welsh had been effective.
“But it has holes in it,” I said.
“Bah! Cover them with something.” Nestor shook his head. His gaze was still crafty, but his mouth turned down at the edges. A turtle frown. “It will be a good deal for you. And a good deed.”
“How so?”
“I am desperate. Not only am I uncomfortable and it is too difficult for me to travel on land to retrieve my own new shell, I am trying to pursue my dream. And you can help me.”
“What dream?” Ares asked.
The turtle hesitated just briefly. Either he was too shy to share his dream or he was coming up with one.
Nah. I shouldn’t doubt him right off the bat.
Nestor sucked in a breath. “I want to be a member of Poseidon’s fleet of carriage-pulling sea turtles. I’ve waited all my life to grow big enough—which is really quite a while, if you must know—but now I need a bigger shell. It’s a matching fleet, so I must match.”
“That’s quite a story,” Ares said.
Nestor glared. “It’s not a story! It’s my dream.”
I’d give the turtle credit—he really sold the tale. If it weren’t so ridiculous, I could almost imagine Poseidon riding in a carriage pulled by a dozen matching sea turtles. But his eyes looked crafty. This turtle was taking us for a ride.
A rustling sounded from behind me again. I turned, catching sight of a flash of gold just before it disappeared.
“Well?” Nestor prodded. “Will you help me? I can tell you exactly where the shell is. It will only take you five minutes.”
“Why can’t you do it, then?”
“My shell is too big to fit between the forest trees, and the shell is on top of a rock. I cannot reach it.”
“Hmm. Let me confer with my friend,” I said.
The turtle nodded.
I gestured to Ares, and we moved a dozen feet away. I leaned in and whispered, “This smells fishy.”
“Yes. Poseidon is known for his horses and carriage, not turtles.”
I nodded, then caught sight of another flash of gold in the forest, low, near the ground. For a second, it looked like a little wing.
Winged shoes.
“I think Hermes is here,” I whispered. “In the forest.”
“Trickster god.”
“Yeah.” I racked my brain, trying to think of why the turtle would want this. Though it could be devious, sometimes the truth really was the most obvious thing. “I think we should help him. He’s clearly miserable.”
“We don’t have a lot of time.”
“No, I know. You’re right. But it’s only five minutes. And he looks so unhappy. We can’t leave him like this. With your speed, it might be even quicker.” I frowned. “And remember. We’re in the world of myth now. Quests like these shouldn’t be ignored.”
Ares nodded. “Valid point. But if it’s more than a five-minute task, it’s too much of a risk.”
“Fair.” I turned back to the turtle and approached. “We will help you, but be honest … If it is going to take more than five minutes, we will have to return and help you after we save the stone of Synnaroe. But I vow that we will return.”
“Only five minutes, I promise,” Nestor said. “And you need my shell anyway, as it is the only way to cross the sea. So you must help me.”
“I can conjure us a boat,” I reminded the turtle. “I’m a conjurer.”
“Won’t do you much good when Poseidon claims it for his own.”
I frowned, not wanting to believe him. But there was every chance he was right. “Fine. Tell us where to find your shell.”
“Not far.” He gestured with a big flipper, back into the woods. “That way, not a two-minute run away from the sea, sitting on top of some rocks.”
I nodded and looked at Ares. “Ready for a quest?”
“Always.”
“Then this time, use your speed. I’ll try to keep up.”
He nodded and we hurried off, back through the woods. Ares raced ahead, disappearing into the forest.
I caught up with him two minutes later, just in time to see him standing on top of a massive pile of rocks, the huge shell balanced on his head like a coin on its edge.
He jumped down. I panted, admiring him. Frankly, it was a ridiculous feat of physical prowess.
I gazed up at the shell, which rose fifteen feet above his head. “Think you can run like that?”
“Yes.”
“All right, then. Let’s go.” I turned and raced back through the forest, Ares sprinting ahead of me.
When I arrived back on the beach, the new shell was already laid in front of Nestor. We’d completed the task in four minutes, max.
Not bad.
He had a big turtle grin on his face as he wiggled inside of his old shell, yanking his fat flippers back in through the holes, then shimmying out of the hole where his head protruded. Magic swirled around him as he scurried across the sand to his new shell. His green form looked a bit squishy and strange—no wonder he needed a shell.
As he was making himself comfortable inside his new home, I approached the old shell that he’d promised to give us.
Before I reached it, a golden blur shot from the trees and jumped on top of the shell.
The man grinned at us.
Hermes.
No question about it. He looked like a California beach dude, with gleaming curls and a tan. Golden winged shoes fluttered at his feet. His magic pulsed on the air, feeling like a brisk wind and tasting of water.
“That’s our shell,” I said.
“Not anymore.” He grinned.
I looked at Nestor in time to see the crafty gleam in his eyes. “You tricked us, turtle.”
Nestor sighed. “It’s all part of the test, of course.”
I glared at him, then Hermes, who also looked pretty tricky. “What test? If you wanted the shell, Hermes, couldn’t you just have helped Nestor yourself?”
“I was prohibited from climbing the pile of rocks upon which it sat. So Nestor and I came up with this plan.”
Ares frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, but said nothing. Clearly he didn’t approve of the trickery.
“Whatever,” I muttered. “Keep your shell. I’ll conjure us a boat.”
“Do not waste the magic,” Hermes said. “Poseidon will claim any craft that does not come from his own sea.”
“Then we do need that shell,” Ares said.
I glanced quickly at him, noting the warrior’s stance. Please don’t try to fight a god.
I didn’t want to play Hermes’s games, nor did I want a fight. So I conjured a small model of a boat, then set it down at the edge of the sea. The little boat floated on the crystal blue water, and I gave it a good push, letting it glide farther out. It floated on the sparkling surface, drifting deeper and deeper.
Then sank like a stone.
Hermes grinned. “You see?”
He was clearly loving this. Jerk.
“What do you want for the shell?” I asked.
He tapped his chin. “Hmmm.”
“Wait,” Nestor said. “Do not deal with him. He may ask the impossible.”
“Then what do we do?” Ares asked.
“I will carry you over on my back.” Nestor nodded. “You helped me, and I will repay that.”
Hermes scowled, but Nestor shot him a “what are you going to do about it?” look.
“Deal.” Maybe I should have thought about it longer—considered all the options, since he could technically drop us in the middle of the sea—but we were desperate. And Hermes did look tricky. After the move Hephaestus had pulled on us, I didn’t want to deal with another god if I could help it.
Ares met my gaze, a question in his own.
“We should try to have faith,” I murmured.
“I won’t let you down,” Nestor said.
“I hope not.”
Hermes looked disappointed, but I ignored him. He’d gotten what he wanted.
Nestor dragged himself into the shallows, his green shell shimmering against the glittering blue sea. Ares and I climbed onto his back. It was pleasantly rough, providing me with enough grip so that I didn’t slip off. I perched on the top, Ares at my side.
Joy bubbled up inside me. I was riding a giant sea turtle!
“Oof,” Nestor said. “You really need to lay off the Twinkies.”
“Twinkies?” I laughed.
“They’re my favorite human food. Aren’t they yours?”
“No. But if you get us across safely, I’ll conjure you some Twinkies.”
Nestor turned his massive head to look back at us, his eyes sparkling. “Really?”
“Really.”
He nodded. “A deal, then.”
I felt a bit better, knowing that he wanted those Twinkies on the other end. He’d probably be more likely to deliver us.
Nestor pushed off into the sea. Water lapped at the edges of our living raft, but we were high enough that we’d stay dry as long as there were no big waves.
I turned to watch the receding shore. Hermes was staring after us, brow creased. I couldn’t make out the expression in his eyes, which made unease prickle at the back of my neck.
I did not want to be on a god’s bad side.
“Think he’s pissed at us?” I asked Ares.
“Hard to say,” Ares said.
“Eh, Hermes is all right,” Nestor said. “Though your buddy is right. He’s a tough one to read. He could still pull a nasty trick on you, so just hope you don’t see him again.”
It was all we could do. I snuck a peak at the mirror in my pocket. Drakon was flying but it was not yet dark, thank fates.
The ride across the sea was beautiful. It sparkled like blue diamonds the whole way across, the sun hanging high overhead. Nestor kept up a steady pace. I couldn’t help but peer into the water, hoping for a glimpse of Poseidon. Or worse, a kraken.
But when the threat came, it dove from above.
I heard the rush of wings and glanced up, just in time to see a massive albatross with serrated teeth diving straight for us.
“Bird!” I screamed.
“Hold tight!” Nestor yelled.
I gripped at a ridge in his shell, heart thundering. I sucked in a deep breath and Nestor dove. Water engulfed me. I hung on for dear life as water rushed around me. Though the salt water stung my eyes, I kept them open.
Ares held on next to me. It was bright blue beneath the sea. Nestor was so fast that I couldn’t maintain my sitting position. Instead, I dangled off his back as we shot through the water.
My lungs burned as we raced along beneath the sea. All around us, the albatross shot into the water like torpedoes, brilliant white bubbles exploding around them. There were dozens of the large birds.
Below, I caught a brief glimpse of a fabulous castle beneath the sea. Poseidon’s lair. Excitement thrilled through me.
I wanted to scream at Nestor to go up for air. My muscles were weakening without oxygen, my grip slackening.
As if he sensed my problem, Ares grabbed me around the waist, holding me tight to him. By the time Nestor burst to the surface, black dots were dancing in front of my vision. I sucked in air, gasping and choking. The dots faded.
I glanced back, frantic to see if the albatross were coming for us. Instead, they floated on the surface far behind us, wet and bedraggled.
I gasped. “Why aren’t they chasing?”
“Not great divers, those carnivorous albatross,” Nestor said. “It’ll take them a while to dry off enough to fly again.”
“Then why did they dive?” Ares asked.
“They get excited. Can’t help themselves.” Nestor laughed. “Dumb birds.”
I sucked in air as I struggled to a sitting position. Next to me, Ares appeared to be fine.
“Why aren’t you out of breath?” I asked.
“Giant lungs. All that running,” he said.
So it wasn’t just magic that made him fast, but also strength and practice.
“Well, thanks for keeping me on. It was getting dicey there for a while.” I kept my gaze wary the rest of the way, eyes peeled for any more albatross or other threats. By the time the shore appeared on the horizon, I was more than ready for my turtle ride to be over.
As we neared, dread began to chill my skin. We weren’t approaching the lovely forest and white sand beach of the land we’d left behind. No—this was far darker, with twisted white trees and a black sand beach. Even the sky was darker, as if it were perpetually night over the forest.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“Hades’s realm,” Nestor said. “I will not stay long. You must be quick.”
“I thought it was underground,” Ares said.
“A modern human interpretation,” Nestor said. “It is accessed by the sea. Or the rivers Acheron or Styx, from the other side.”
“Shit.” My gaze traveled over it. Though rationally I knew that all of the gods were pretty jerky and any of their realms might hold death for us, this was freaking Hades.
Hell.
The water lost its sparkling blue shine as we neared, turning gray and murky. It lapped at the edges of Nestor’s shell, leaving a brown stain.
“Quickly now,” Nestor said as he beached on the shore. “And don’t forget my Twinkies.”
I scrambled off, Ares behind me, then turned. Quickly, I conjured four Twinkies. One by one, I tossed them into Nestor’s mouth. His eyes gleamed as he chomped merrily.
