Deep Water by Nicola Cameron Page A

centuries he had entertained so many impossible
fantasies of braving the horrors of Tartarus and rescuing a grateful Medusa. It
had never occurred to him that Medusa might refuse to be rescued. “Then I would
leave her to Amphitrite,” he said slowly. “At least I could make amends to both
of them that way. But it doesn’t matter now.”
    Chiron frowned down at him. “Why?”
    “Because Medusa—Griffin—is dying. He has a
brain tumor, and it’s fatal.” The wine hadn’t helped. He couldn’t shy away from
the situation anymore. “I am one of the most powerful gods on the planet, but I
have no healing ability. I can’t stop this, Chiron. And dammit all to Tartarus,
I don’t know what to do !”
    He bellowed the last into the air.
Startled seabirds and puffs of dust erupted into the air as the ground trembled
at his anger. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to rage, thrust his trident into the
guts of an enemy, raise a tidal wave, bring down
mountains.
    And it wouldn’t change a thing. His agapetos would still die from the
hidden, lethal assassin in his head.
    When the temblor eased, Chiron cleared his
throat. “Are you finished?”
    Poseidon shrugged one shoulder. He refused
to think it was petulant. “I suppose so.”
    “Good. Now, did it ever occur to you to
ask for help?”
    For a moment he wasn’t sure he’d heard his
half-brother correctly. “I—no?”
    The centaur sighed. “Phenomenal cosmic
powers, itty bitty grasp of social skills,” he muttered. “Look, you may be an
asshole, but you’re also family, screwed up as it is. And I like Ammie —if she wasn’t involved in your fuckery ,
she shouldn’t have to pay the price.”
    Poseidon licked suddenly dry lips. “Are
you saying you’ll help me?”
    His half-brother rolled his eyes. “And the
light dawns. Yes, I’ll help you, you big idiot. Now, as I see it, you have two
options—find a god with healing abilities and get him or her to heal Griffin.
It wouldn’t fake out the Fates, but it might buy you more time.”
    “I already thought of that,” Poseidon said
morosely. “If Nicholas has Asclepius’s Rod that means something happened to
Asclepius. And I haven’t seen Apollo in centuries. And you—”
    “Are somewhat corporeally challenged,”
Chiron finished sardonically, gesturing at his shimmering form. “I don’t know
what to tell you about Asclepius. The last time I spoke with him, he said he
had a prophecy from the Oracle. He wouldn’t go into details, just said that he
was making arrangements for someone to take over the Rod and asked me to tutor
the Bearer. I don’t think we can expect him to show up anytime soon. As for
Apollo,” he spread his hands, “you know what he’s like. He likes going
walkabout even more than Zeus. But I can start looking for him.”
    Poseidon found the words difficult to get
out, but did it anyway. “Thank you, brother. You have my undying gratitude.” He
blinked. “Wait. You said I have two options?”
    “Right, and I think you’re gonna like the second one better.” Chiron smirked. “What
happens when a god falls in love with a mortal and doesn’t want that mortal to
die?”
    Faces appeared in Poseidon’s mind, the
sweet countenance of Psyche, Cupid’s human bride, and the steadfast face of his
own son-in-law. “Godhood,” he breathed. “Griffin can be raised to godhood.”
    “Bingo,” Chiron said. “Have him made
divine and his mortality won’t be an issue anymore.”
    Poseidon’s high hopes, raised by the
thought of finding Apollo, drained away. “But once again, I don’t have that
power. And Gaia—” He hesitated, not wanting to mention her vague promise, if it
could even be called that. “Well, you know what she’s like.”
    “Which leaves…” Chiron prompted.
    “Zeus. Who also hasn’t spoken to me in centuries. ”
    “Like you should complain about that. But
I may be able to convince him to do it,” the centaur said.
    “How?”
    Chiron gave his body a brief,