Under the Water(Fem. Percy)

Chapter 5

Amphitrite tries to tell me. I don't listen. I can't listen. Her words dance around me like they're in another language, which they are technically, Greek, not English. It doesn't help thing. Heir? Why would he-- No. No, I have to be misunderstanding that.

There's not a page in the rule book for that. If what she saying is true---and I don't think she's lying---the whole thing might as well be thrown out. This is uncharted water, and it might as well be a night with no moon. Dangerous. The sea around me goes calm, still, and cold. It's deeper than the usual ocean chill. Bone deep, the kind that only a warm bath can get rid of. Caramel eyes glimmer with power, but she's not causing this. I am.

Is this why he wants me here? Or is this a side effect? Even if I don't have the best control of my emotions, that's never translated into poor control of my powers before. Or has it? The anger and anxiety make it hard to think. They always have, which always landed me in anger management classes. A part of me knows I should be grateful---with good reason. Dad has no reason to do this.

But that's what makes it scary. No reason, no predictable outcomes. Even prophecies, as damning as they can be, give a measure of safety, of assurance. Being told someone will die is sometimes better than never knowing that at all.

She tries to call me back to her. Soft words turn to demands and orders. Why is she bothering? She can drag me back if she wants. Unless Dad won't let her? My hands flutter at the thought. I shove them in my pockets. Stick to the lessons. Rule one: Don't do anything that could be reflect poorly on our parent. Don't show weakness.

My stomach is doing somersaults. I turn down a hallway to avoid guards. If there's one thing that'll embarrass Dad, it's throwing up. Though, I think as I find myself lost, maybe it wasn't my best choice. The hallways all looked the same. Glowing plants, stone floor, decor that's both remarkable and unremarkable: things you think you remember, but aren't entirely sure of. Shell murals, vases, statues. They're not good landmarks.

It's the little details that get me. And so I take a left where I probably should've taken a right, and go straight when I should have turned.

"Does everyone just have a map tattooed on them?" I grumble. A half hour, and I'm no closer to my room than I was before. To make things worse, in this hallway of hundreds of doors, no one has answered. Fire sears my muscles.  I sink onto the floor. It's cold and hard and does nothing to help the ache. Please don't let anyone see me.

Sitting in a hallway and rubbing my feet isn't going to look good. Why hadn't I made Triton wait so I could grab my shoes? I'm going to ruin so many pairs of socks, and do they even have socks down here? The pressure in my chest builds against. Strands of water wrap around my arms.

They snake along my skin, pushing against the sweater. Higher and higher they creep, twining around my neck. I press myself harder against the wall, eyes wide. Probably Dad, but what if it's not? Water isn't something to be afraid of. It's something I can control. But that falls by the wayside when I'm so horribly outmatched. Oceanus could probably weasel some of his power into the palace. Kym could too, and she might actually be here.

I'm too aware of the ways you can kill things with water, and I'm not even twenty. What can a god come up with?

The water settles around my neck like a snake, and then the presence is gone. Relief floods through me. Dad then. Or Triton. Knowing it's one of them is reassuring, even if the idea of them having a tangible leash on me is off-putting. I hum. Saying a god's name gets their attention, right? So if I just repeat Triton's, will it annoy him enough to have him show up?

Before I get a chance to test my theory, a steady tap, tap, echoes down the hall, coming closer and closer. I close my eyes. Maybe if I just pretend that I passed out--?