The Silver Ring (PJO)

Chapter 17

"So, how are you boys faring?" Amphitrite asked. "And I hope you haven't been sent on any more quests."

After getting my life hugged out of me for thirty minutes, Mom had ordered everybody out of the hall (they were having an important meeting about soldier training with their generals) except for Dad and Triton then proceeded to grill us about what had happened to us. She was so busy that she didn't know what had happened upon land for the past three months.

It was disorientating to hear your mother's voice and care from another person who looked completely different. Even worse—from a person who had despised me once upon a time.

"A bit shocked about your . . . transformation," I admitted. "But I haven't been on any big quests, don't worry. And Nico was being antisocial so much so that Lord Hades kicked him out."

"I wasn't being antisocial!" Nico exclaimed. "And he didn't kick me out!"

"Isn't that what you told me a few hours ago?" I taunted.

In the midst of our quarreling, Mom and Dad were smiling happily at each other, probably because I was happy.

But it was just a temporary facade; the pain was slowly breaking my heart and it took more and more effort not to show it the more time passed.

Then, Triton butted in. "How do you like Atlantis, Nico?"

"It's amazing," Nico said. "Just . . . it's a bit baffling that I'm in the water and it takes more effort to move." He waved an arm around to prove his point. Since there was resistance, his arm cut through slowly and he nearly toppled over. 

"It is a bit hard to get used to," Triton said sympathetically. "But isn't it amazing to breathe underwater?"

"It is."

"Okay, that's enough chatting boys," Mom said in a tone that clearly said not to mess with her. "How long are you staying for?"

I looked at Nico, who just shrugged. "How long are you kicked out for?" I asked.

He glared at me, then sighed. "A week."

"A week!? And you say that it's a 'break'?" Nico glared at me and before he opened his mouth to respond I turned to Mom and said, "We'll stay for a week, but we might have to go up to the surface once in a while."

"Alright!" Mom exclaimed. "Now that's settled, do you boys want to have breakfast?"

"Sure," I said.

"Then we'll join you," Mom said. When Dad opened his mouth to protest—probably because he had work to do—Mom elbowed him in the stomach and glared at him, warning him to not cross her. Dad paled and obediently closed his mouth.

I smiled sadly at their behavior: That was what I had always wanted to have; Mom and Dad together, taking care of each other. 

But there was this part of me—a part that was growing stronger—who wanted to have that same relationship with someone, tainting the happiness with sorrow. I imagined balling up all my pain, sadness, sorrow, and grief, then locking it into a mental box, planning to deal with it later. I didn't want any of my family members to see me breaking down and feeling guilty or mad about it.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, making sure nobody saw me resetting my composure. Then, in a happy voice that was nowhere near to expressing how I was feeling, I said, "Lead the way, Mom."

Mom smiled at me and walked through a side door, Triton and Nico following. Before I caught up with them, Dad motioned for me to slow down and walk with him. I slowed my pace, the others still in sight but barely out of earshot.

Dad said, "I know you just got here, but there's something to be aware of. Have you noticed the increased number of guards Triton and I have patrolling throughout the city?"

He said it in a hushed whisper that hinted to me that the issue was secret and dangerous. 

Indeed, in our path to the grand dining hall, several guards were standing at each doorway, and even in the less-important hallways. They were all armed to the teeth—much more armor and weapons than they needed in a daily patrol. They were insouciant and intimidating, standing at attention like stone statues.

"I have," I said. "What's wrong? Is there another war brewing?"

My voice was concerned and panicky, not cool and collected like you would imagine I would sound like after being an experienced warrior. I bet that most—if not all—warriors fighting for the side of good didn't like unnecessary bloodshed, and I was one of them.

"Nothing like that," Dad assured me, allaying my fears. "Just that some of my people have . . . disappeared."

"Are you sure they didn't leave?"

"Not entirely, but it's worth being on guard," Dad admitted. "Nobody is allowed to leave without informing me or Triton first, but that wasn't the case with all one-hundred-and-sixty-three of them."

"That many have disappeared? That's a problem."

Dad nodded in agreement, worry evident on his face. Even though he was a god, who was 'supposed' to not care about mortals, he treated his subjects like friends and did his best to keep them happy. 

We rounded the last corner, Mom, Triton, and Nico standing in front of a sea-green door with beautiful carvings of tridents and waves on it, waiting for us. 

Before they came back into earshot, Dad whispered, "we'll talk later. Just be careful. I don't want to lose my son."

With those solemn words out there, Dad pasted a smile on his face and put an arm around my shoulder casually, probably to make Mom think we were having a father-and-son talk and not one about disappearing merfolk. 

Mom smiled at me again. Her energy seemed to be infinite, and that was probably because she got her dream life back again after such a long time. Dad's smile turned into and real and loving one directed to Mom, while his eyes crinkled in happiness. 

"Poseidon newly renovated the dining room, it'll take your breath away!" Mom declared.

On Mom's signal, the two guards on either side of the double doors opened each one up, allowing us to look inside. Nico gasped in delight, which was totally unlike him. I probably would have too, but I was too distracted and disturbed by what Dad had said to me.

He had been worried out of his mind, which only meant one thing; the situation was much more dire than what he had said, and the enemy was as—or even more—powerful than him, making him lose control of the situation.

Like all magical fairytales, there were bad people in my life. 

Only, I had hundreds of more perils. 

And this would become one of them.