Free Oceanborne by Katherine Irons Page B

without oars or a motor. It contained nothing but a coil of weathered rope, two scarred bench seats, a section of torn fishing net, and a heap of seaweed. The bottom of the boat was dry and dusty; not a drop of seawater had trickled in. But the seaweed was vividly green and glossy with moisture. Odd. How had that gotten into the boat? If the waves had washed the seaweed into the dory, why wasn’t the deck damp?
    She reached to pick up a handful of seaweed. It was clean and free of motor oil or the flotsam that drifted onto the shore of a harbor. The seaweed felt as soft as satin, and the brilliant green reminded her of something … something she should remember but seemed just out of reach. She lifted it and sniffed, inhaling the sweet, salty odor, savoring the smell. As she did, something heavy fell to the bottom of the boat, something bright and glittering.

CHAPTER 7
    D eep beneath the surface of the Atlantic, Prince Caddoc retreated to his suite of rooms in one of the oldest levels of the king’s palace, a section usually reserved for visiting dignitaries from outlying and not very important sea kingdoms. It shamed him to be housed as meanly as any barbarian diplomat, but he knew that he was lucky not to have been banished beyond the city walls to Neptune’s villa.
    Neither Poseidon nor Queen Korinna had forgiven him for his mother’s attempt at overturning the throne. It was only his father’s age and softening heart that had won him reprieve from execution or being sealed in an ice tomb for a thousand years.
    None of which would have happened had he been treated as he deserved. He was Poseidon’s eldest-born son and should have been heir to the crown. It was only his mother’s position as concubine and later minor queen that had barred him from his rightful inheritance. All his life, he’d lived in the shadow of his half-brothers and sisters, and the ill will he bore them had been tempered and seared to a white-hot hatred. Gladly would he see all of them devoured in the bowels of a seraphim or ground to dust by the jaws of a pod of killer whales … all but one. His sister Morwena was too tasty a morsel to be wasted. He had other plans for her.
    He was contemplating the details of those plans as he stepped into his entrance hall. But immediately, he sensed that all was not well. A feeling of dread swept over him, and the scales rose on the back of his neck. Since his return, he’d had no permanent servants attached to his service, and no naiad would dare to enter his quarters without his permission, even to clean. “Who’s there?” he cried. His nostrils flared and he felt an urgent need to void his bladder. Instead, he drew his sword. “Who is it?”
    â€œWhere have you been?” Halimeda demanded. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours. I’m starving.”
    Caddoc flinched, turned left into his high-ceilinged bedchamber and saw his mother lying in his great, curtained, shell bed. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. Quickly, he darted to slam and lock the outer door through which he’d just entered. “Are you mad? What if someone should hear you? Are you trying to get me killed?”
    â€œWhere were you?”
    â€œKeep your voice down, Mother,” he cautioned. “The servants spy on me constantly.” His scales thrummed unpleasantly. Finding her here in his bedroom was his worst nightmare. Not only was she under a death sentence if she returned to Atlantis, but he was forbidden to have contact with her on penalty of having his own pardon revoked.
    Besides, he’d had plans for the evening with a nymph that didn’t include his mother. Now, he’d have to send Zephyr away. It had taken him days and the promise of a pearl necklace to get her to agree to meet him, and he’d already sent the jewelry to her quarters. His bowels knotted. His mother always made him nervous, and now more than ever. He