The race was coming down the stretch with two horses neck and neck ahead of the pack. The crowd was on its feet and tails, urging and yelling and applying body English, just like any bunch of normal race fans.
Neptune stood now, too, an imposing presence at well over ten feet tall. His court all stood and the nearest mermen bristled and surveyed the crowd, looking for trouble like a bunch of Secret Service agents.
The race ended. The final horse crossed the finish line. And all at once Neptune was somehow on this side of the water wall, on the floor of the arena, in the winner's circle.
With him had come several mermen, definitely bodyguards, looking tough even while balancing — how? — on their relatively flimsy fish tails. There were also a few people dressed in togas who I thought might be minor gods, or maybe just rich guys.
After another moment, Neptune signaled for silence.
Immediately, the crowd grew still. Instantly. As if an extra millisecond of unsanctioned rowdiness might be a death-penalty offense.
The god began to speak in a voice much less outrageously loud than the one he'd used on the surface. Tolerable, but not exactly enjoyable.
"I am Neptune, the great Earth-Shaker, the Flooder, father of the mighty Cyclops, progenitor of the glorious Theseus, sire of the giant twins Otus and Ephialtes. It is to me that conch-blowing, sea-calming Triton, king of the mer-people, owes his life. To me Delphinus attributes his starry presence in the heavens. To me Neleus and Pelias are ever thankful.
"I am Neptune! Manly husband to Amphitrite, the beautiful sister to lovely Thetis. I am Neptune! Forceful lover of Medusa, so cruelly changed by jealous Athena into a snake-haired gorgon.
Would-be lover of Scylla, so meanly transformed by jealous Amphitrite into a many-headed monster." He shot a dirty look at a beautiful goddess who I assumed must be Amphitrite. Then he smiled a benevolent, indulgent smile. "Of course, I have forgiven Amphitrite.
"I am Neptune!" he resumed. "Parent with mighty Earth of invincible Antaeus. Father, too, to hundred-handed Briareus..."
"Boy gets around, doesn't he?" Christopher whispered.
"Don't they all?" Jalil muttered.
"And I have been pleased and entertained by this race of magnificent beasts. I accord the laurel wreath to Tyro. a worthy animal named after the mother of my sons Neleus and Pelias, and to her elfin rider, former resident of Dragonwood, now devoted to serving the renowned stables of Neptune, founder and inventor of the magnificent sport of horse racing."
The crowd, which had to have heard this self-serving oration before, sat and floated rapt, attentive, hanging on every word under the intimidating scowl of the mermen. They interrupted to applaud at several points, crying out praises and compliments.
It was quite a performance. It married the ludicrous, over-the-top enthusiasm of an infomercial to the posturing and toadying of a Nazi rally.
Still we stood there, ignored by Neptune and his people, a loose group of real-worlders and cowering Greek sailors.
Watched as Neptune congratulated the winner of the race, grabbed the horses's snout and kissed her soundly, bowed graciously to the rider, an elf in a pink silk shirt and pants curiously similar to contemporary real-world racing silks.
We stood and watched and waited and I wondered where Merlin had gone. Had he been killed or injured in the storm?
Was he vulnerable to Neptune's powers, or had he been miraculously preserved, as we had? I scanned the crowd. Was he standing among the throngs right now. disguised as something other than an old wizard? Was he hiding?
Finally, Neptune completed his adoration of the horse and rider — mostly of the horse — and turned in our direction. He seemed to notice us for the first time, bedraggled, soaked, the survivors of his freak storm.
"I am so not liking the look in this guy's eye," Christopher mumbled.
Neptune spoke. His voice was bored. "Greek sailors, yes?
Pigs. Away, away, away with them," he said, flipping his hand at his wrist and making a pout. "Wait!" His eyes narrowed, the expression of a foppish dilettante instantly replaced by a suspicious frown. "Where is the troublemaker? The one who was alone in his boat, the one meddling with my affairs? A wizard if I do not miss my guess."
There was a low murmuring among those servants and bodyguards and hangers-on closest to Neptune, heads swiveled to scan the arena, shoulders shrugged. No one came right out and said, "I don't know, Neptune, sir. He's gone. You can kill me now and boil my liver for dinner."
But it didn't seem to matter. In another instant, the god sighed and replaced his frown with a look of disinterest. "No matter," he said, with another flip of his wrist. "Kill these who remain."
No sooner said than done because at that moment, even before Neptune's final word had died on my ears, half a dozen sharks appeared. They swam down just inches above the heads of the spectators, eliciting appreciative oohs and ahs and anticipatory giggles.
The sharks were not large by Everworld standards, but plenty large. None was less than twenty feet long. Twenty feet long and hungry. With a sudden, spasmodic downward jerk, one of the sharks snatched a dwarf from his seat and bit him in two.
The legs, still kicking, floated down trailing a cloud of blood.
The crowd shrieked. Those nearest panicked but those sitting farther away loved it. Neptune laughed his mad laugh, and the laugh was echoed from every wet corner of the Colosseum.
Neptune and his boys were just as suddenly back on the other side of the wall, back in their comfortable seats, settling in for the spectacle of slaughter.
"They can't get out, can they?" Christopher wailed.
"Great Athena save us!" Nikos cried.
The nearest shark swam right up to the barrier separating water and air. Then it kept swimming. As its snout emerged, a water bubble formed, encasing the beast.
The shark, within its undulating bubble, swam floating through the air. Mouth open now. Rows and rows of serrated triangular teeth.
Straight for us.
Chapter
VI
Another shark in its bubble, and another, and another. Six in all. They slid through the water wall and undulated swiftly toward us.
"Scatter, break up," I shouted. "Maybe we can make them chase us, tire them out, maybe they won't get us all. Now!"
I dove to the left, threw myself aside just as one of the sharks torpedoed straight for me. I rolled, drew my sword, stabbed straight upward as the shark skimmed overhead. Hit nothing but water.
"Aaah!"
I spun, just in time to see one of the sailors drawn inside one of the water bubbles. It was over quickly then, sharp, slanted teeth tearing at soft human flesh, chomping on bloody intestines, the interior of the bubble becoming opaque with a red cloud of blood and guts.
Then, another screaming, writhing sailor snatched, this time dragged one arm, one leg in the bubble, the other arm and leg out of the bubble, through the wall of water and torn apart, ingested to the roaring, waterlogged approval of the crowd.
I ran, sword drawn. Too slow. The shark was doing a sort of victory lap, dragging what was now a corpse Blood and water ran down the body, trailing red in the dirt.
Another marauding shark, and another sailor crunched like a cookie before I could lunge, thrust. I was a fool, running, racing, stabbing at animals who were far faster than I and outnumbered me six to one. Hard choices: Protect my own.
I ran toward where April and Christopher huddled close together. Jalil was not far off with his tiny Coo-Hatch pocketknife open.
But then it dawned on me. The sharks were not coming after us, me, Jalil, Christopher, April, Senna. The sharks had herded the remaining sailors into a tight huddle from which, one by one, a sailor was cut and run down.
No, not all the remaining sailors, David, not all, one is apart, one seems to be unnoticed, off on his own, didn't really remember his face from the boat but...
Fine. The sharks weren't bothering us, that didn't mean I was going to stand by doing
nothing. I stumbled forward, ran toward one of the circling sharks. Gripped the hilt of my sword with both hands, closer, closer, raised the sword high, raised the sword of Galahad and with a grunt I struck down with all my strength.
The sword cut water, cut scale and flesh and cartilage. I cut the shark in two just ahead of its fan. The sword had slid right through the bubble casing to split the animal and now slipped back out. And in the still-floating, undamaged bubble, two pieces of a shark hung suspended, blood coloring the water.
For a moment, there was relative silence as the crowd no doubt processed the fact that a human condemned to death by Neptune had just killed one of the god's executioners. I glanced at the others. Their faces showed fear, satisfaction, and traces of anger on Senna's. Too bad. I'd had to do it, couldn't just sit around and wait for more people to be murdered, wait to be killed myself by the arbitrary orders of yet another sicko god.
Neptune raised his hand and the attacks ceased. The sharks swam agitated circles within their globes.
"Who are you, mortal?" Neptune demanded. "Who are you to come uninvited to my domain and then so boldly kill my shark? Such a display of bravery amuses me. Speak!"
In his face, no other way. If I wimped he'd kill me; I was completely certain of that. I sheathed my sword, rested my hand on the hilt. Back straight, eyes raised to the Roman god, I stepped forward.
"I am the commander of the Greek armies defending Olympus against the Hetwan armies of Ka Anor," I said loudly, arrogantly. "Wise Athena calls me General Davideus and I am sworn to defend and protect what is hers."
Jalil stepped up behind me, giving support, backing my play. And giving me grief at the same time. "You do know this is a Roman god, right?" he said in a voiceless whisper. "And his Greek counterpart supposedly has a particular hard-on for Athena."
"He hates Athena? That would have been useful information.
About ten seconds ago," I muttered.
Neptune raised his trident, his telephone-pole-sized trident with three barbed spear points. His massive, unbearded face was a mask of fury, veins bulging and pumping in his forehead, along his neck.
"No!" April, shouting, waving her hands, smiling her big, Hol ywood smile. "A joke! Mighty Neptune, great Neptune, he jests!" Manically, she pointed back at me. "He, David, this one, he is our fool! We are minstrels, minstrels from the old world with wonderful tales and lively songs never before heard in Everworld.
And we would be honored, honored, great, er, sir, if you would al ow us to perform for your pleasure."
There was a horrible moment of waiting, waiting for the god to buy our story, the story we'd been telling since the Viking days, the story explaining our presence in Everworld, a story everyone had believed. So far.
The hand that grasped the trident was still poised above the god's curly head. An insane anger, or maybe just insanity, blazed from his dark eyes, what I could see of them from under his bunched brow.
And then...
Neptune shrugged. Lowered the trident. A grin every bit as false as April's spread over his face. "Very well. You minstrels, you may have the honor of entertaining me. But not now, later, soon, when I am better in the mood." Neptune sighed, a gale of wind. "I am a weary god," he admitted, pouting. "War is brewing in my under-water kingdom, war between myself and that interloper Poseidon, that Greek bastard, that thief! I was the first to carry the trident with which to command the waves and rake the sea! I, great Neptune, not womanish Poseidon! I defy anyone to refute my claim, which is just and right. I defy anyone to stand in my way as I claim Atlantis as my own! You! Do you defy me?"
I turned to look at the person Neptune had singled out to be the recipient of his wrath. A human, a man, dark-haired, copper-skinned, sitting in the stands. An Aztec perhaps, looking alarmed, eyes widened, mouth open.
He stood slowly. "No... no, Great Neptune..."
Neptune grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "Oh, I think you do!" he sang. And threw the trident at the man. The middle of the three prongs pierced the man's heart. The other two prongs buried themselves deep in the rock of the stands. The man was killed instantly.
"Oh, God," April whispered.
Neptune was no longer calm. He had been calm for about five seconds, and then had revved up to insanity and arbitrarily killed an innocent bystander, and now he was pissed and pitiful.
"My trident, my lovely trident! Spoiled by the foul blood of a traitor! Oh, oh, bring me a new trident, burn the other, hurry, hurry...."
"This guy's nuts," Christopher whispered. "Not just the usual nutty god — I mean he's a total whack job."
We stood there, watching a nymph servant smooth Neptune's brow, another bring him something in a goblet, two more rush off, presumably to snag a spare trident.
But we hadn't been forgotten. Two mermen appeared before us. I hadn't even seen them coming. These guys could swim. And, it seemed, they could move through the air as easily as if through water.
"You will come away now," the larger of the two said. "You will rest until great Neptune commands your presence."
Jalil shot me a look. I nodded. Not much else to do but follow these guys. At least get out of Neptune's immediate range. Then, assess the situation, make a plan. Stay alive.
I breathed. First time in a while. But I didn't relax. I could feel that trident emerging from the wall of water, whistling through the air, piercing me through, severing my spine, nailing me to the... Okay, keep it together, David, just walk out of the damned place with your head up and you can have a breakdown later.
We followed the two mermen from the arena and I noticed the sailor, the one who hadn't been rounded up with the others, one of the few surviving sailors. He was walking, unmolested —why wasn't anyone stopping him? — walking away at a right angle to us. I thought I should call to him, ask him to join us, but didn't.
I had a pretty good idea of why this particular sailor should be able to walk away unnoticed.
Chapter
VII
We followed the mermen who, unaccountably, swam through the air without benefit of water.
We followed them out of the colosseum by way of a tunnel that dead-ended in a wall of water. The mermen simply swam from air to water with barely a pause or a ripple.
We stopped. One of the mermen looked back, scowled, and motioned us forward.
"Dude. We kind of need air," Christopher said.
I could see a city ahead. Streets. Buildings. Sidewalk vendors.
Beasts of burden. I saw humans ahead, humans walking and talking and presumably breathing underwater. Logic told me the mermen were not out to drown us. Logic told me it was okay, that if Neptune wanted us dead he'd find a more dramatic way. To hell with logic. That was a wall of water. Real water. The kind you can't breathe without gills.
Jalil stepped forward, lips pursed like maybe he was going to start whistling. He stepped up and reached out a tentative hand to touch the wall of water. He drew his hand back and looked at the wetness.
"What, you thought maybe it was fake water?" Christopher asked.
Jalil looked a little embarrassed, an emotion he conveys by pressing his lips into a line and narrowing his eyes angrily. He stuck his hand into the water and moved it around. Then he sucked in a deep breath and poked his whole head into the water.
And yet, he did not breathe. Not till the veins were popping out of his neck and his chest was heaving. Then, all at once, he inhaled.
His eyes flew open. He breathed again.
Then with an effort of will he stepped fully through the water barrier and stood there calmly breathing, in and out, in and out.
No bubbles. Just one of the weirdnesses. No bubbles.
"I never knew Jalil could show such faith in the power of magic," Senna mocked.
"The power of reason," Jalil countered, his voice warbly and indistinct. "What is, is. There are people in here breathing."
Senna laughed, dismissing that as so much nonsense. And she stepped through. The water lifted her
hair and swirled it into a golden cloud. She laughed again, sheer delight this time.
Senna liked magic, the fact of it, the power of it, in a way none of us shared.
April was next. Then Christopher.
I was not being the fearless leader. I have a thing about smothering. I'm against it. There were a lot of ways to die and having my lungs fill with water was not my favorite.
"Come on in, Aquaman," Christopher said.
"Screw you."
I wasn't going to panic. Couldn't. But I'd come pretty near to drowning once already, and with that memory fresh in my mind I wasn't anxious to try it again. April stepped back through, wet, bedraggled. She started to take my hand and guide me in.
No. That wasn't happening. Not with the mermen smirking at me.
I didn't exactly slap her hand away, but I did push past her and run straight into the wall of water. Closed my eyes, an instinct, held my breath.
Then, I breathed. My lungs filled with water. I could feel it. It was cold, colder than air. A heaviness. I wanted to gag, which was my first instinct, but I resisted.
Exhale. Exhale thick, viscous water.
I moved and I moved like a guy underwater. God help me if I tried to use my sword. But I could see. And when I tried to talk, my voice sounded almost normal in my ears. My clothes billowed around me.
"Well, this is definitely different," I said.
"First time we've all been clean at the same time since Olympus," April noted.
I gave a nod to the mermen. "Lead on."
The mermen were powerful creatures in the air. But now, in their natural element, their superiority was even more obvious.
They moved with the ease of dolphins. Slight kicks of their powerful tails were all it took for them to outpace our labored, hobbling, men-on-the-moon steps.
For the first time I noticed the foot-long coral blades at the mermen's sides. If it came to a fight between me and them it was going to be short and unpleasant.