It is nice to be something other than a captor, to make her happy. Perhaps I am spoiling her, but I saw the horror on her face and I heard the fear in her voice when I took her from the beach. I know she doesn’t want to be here, and that sex only goes so far to assuage that. I can tie her up, fuck her senseless, and it’s not enough. I’ll buy the whole damn city if it makes Lucy happy.
My misgivings are soon proved to be grounded. It takes a sizable retinue to return all the goods to the palace, and soon the room which was empty is now filled to overflowing with the contents of every store in the city.
Lucy is wearing two dresses, sitting on the most expensive bedding in the city, looking completely and utterly miserable.
“You don’t like your purchases? We can shop again tomorrow, and the day after.”
“This is Tanuk’s fault,” Lucy growls. I knew she had the war on her mind. I was hoping she was shallower and simpler than she really is, but I have discovered that just because a woman likes pretty things it doesn't mean she’s stupid.
“How is it his fault?”
“Tanuk started the war when he took Lucy to Earth.”
“Or Helios started the war when he took your mother into Okeanus instead of letting her burn up in the atmosphere as is tradition.”
“Or Sapphire started it when she brought that toy with her.”
“You can’t blame a child for a war.”
“You can, but it is frowned upon.”
The truth is there are many hands in this war. Every time a god tries to take a woman, chaos and death follow. To be fair, to humans and their godly lovers, chaos and death are bound to happen anyway. Humans merely act as focal points for their energies.
I understand that which Lucy cannot. She does not have the gift, or perhaps the curse, of perspective. I, on the other hand, cannot escape it. I am older than Helios. I came before Ragnar. I am the most ancient god on this planet. Perhaps any planet. Before I was the god of the ocean, I ruled over the ooze of creatures discovering mitochondria. I have seen absolutely everything, and that is why I know that nothing compares to the innocence of youth taking its first steps into the adulthood, which will inevitably wear it into a hollow version of whatever potential it might have had.
Lucy is at that precipice. She yearns to throw herself forward to her destiny, as is right and proper. But she does not know that no good can come from it. If I could keep her as she is now, preserved in this moment in time, I would. She is so innocent. The coming years will strip that from her inevitably and inexorably. One day she will look back at this time and yearn for the simplicity of it. But she cannot do that now. Now she is swimming in the water of her youth, and she believes that it will always be that way.
“What are you thinking about?”
“How young you are,” I answer honestly.
“I’m as old as I’ve ever been.”
“True,” I admit. “But there is so much you are yet to learn.”
“Tell me then,” she says. “Teach me what you think I don’t know.”
“That would take a literal eternity.”
“So it’s not worth starting?”
I love her tenacity, not to mention the spark of intelligence which is so often overshadowed by her beauty.
“I suppose we could start with the nature of the gods on this planet,” I say. “You see, you blame Tanuk and perhaps Sapphire, and almost certainly your sister. That’s because they are essentially the only gods you know.”
“That’s not true! I also know Helios and Ragnar.”
“Yes, you know your fathers. But that’s not real knowing, is it. You have not been educated on the world around you. You’ve been kept away from it. You didn’t even know the word for mermaid.”
Her expression sours. “I’m not stupid, Triton.”
“I know you’re not,” I say. “That’s precisely my point. You are in no way stupid, but you've been deprived of the information which would allow you to make sense of the world, and even this war. Knowing your family isn’t enough.”
“I tried to get to know more than my family, and you spanked me and sent me home, remember? A year ago?”
“No, you stripped naked, attracted the lusts of almost every male and some female libidos, and then wandered off with a dangerously unpredictable trickster god,” I remind her. “If you’d kept your clothes on and engaged in less libidinous conversation, you might have learned something. Here, I tried to introduce you to the merpeople at the party, but once again, you had your own agenda.”
“Well, I was trying to escape,” she says, turning her hands palms up and shrugging.
“Indeed. Perhaps you could sit and listen a while.”
“Maybe I could,” she considers. “I do have a question. Can a human ever become a god?”
“Yes.”
“Very cool. How?”
“Humans contain a small amount of divinity. Most of the time it is released upon their passing, but sometimes it grows and becomes self-sustaining.”
“What makes it grow?”
“Acts of divinity. Self-sacrifice. Heroism. Cats.”
“Cats?”
Lucy
He nods. I’m not sure he is being serious or not. Triton has a sense of humor, but it is incredibly deadpan and I’m sure I have missed many of his jokes.
“What’s so special about cats?”
“Everything,” he says. “But they don’t care for water, so my familiarity is limited. There are isles on Okeanus where those who have sacrificed in the service of their animals are rejoined with their spirits in much more powerful forms.”
“We only had horses. Winged horses, but still, basically horses. I want to see what you’re talking about. I don’t want to have to imagine it.”
“When the war is over…”
“When the war is over…” I mimic his words and watch his expression turn stern. “I just don’t want to wait to live until the war is over.”
“And you don’t have to. There is still much of Undersea to explore.”
I don’t care about Undersea. The wonders down here are beautiful and magical, but my mind drifts up, where my body is not permitted to go.
“Triton?”
“Yes?”
“Would you go and see what is happening?”
“What is happening where? In the stores we emptied? Frantic re-stocking, I imagine.”
“Up above. The war. Can you go and make sure my family are okay?”
How can I refuse that request? I won’t to let her leave to find out for herself. It is only fair I at least relay reports.
“I will send a scout,” I tell her.
“No. You. You should go. I want to hear what it is happening out there from you. I wouldn’t trust a scout.”
I do not like this for an abundance of reasons, but I suppose she does have the right to know what is happening, and from a trusted source.
“I will go, as long as you promise to stay here and unwrap all your purchases.”
“Promise,” she says.
That’s the first time she’s promised anything like staying in Undersea.
“I will go,” I say.