Goddess in Time Read online

  “I’m sure,” Troy promises.

  “Think of it this way,” I say. “Why would the gods create a power that could unmake all their hard work?”

  She considers that for a moment, studies both me and Troy like she’s judging how much we believe what we’re saying, and then finally relaxes her shoulders.

  “This is insane.” She waves the book in the air. “Time travel?”

  “I know.”

  I try to snatch the book back from her, but she waves it out of reach.

  “That’s why I don’t want anyone else involved,” I explain. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Troy’s involved,” Phoebe argues.

  I roll my eyes. “Like I could stop him.”

  Phoebe grins. “Well, you can’t stop me, either.”

  “Thank goodness,” Troy cheers and collapses onto my bed.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I tell Phoebe.

  “I know,” she replies. “But I’m going to.”

  She sets the book on my desk as she stands, and then pulls me into a hug.

  “For you,” she whispers, “and for Griffin.”

  I squeeze her back. She knows me well enough to realize that this isn’t just about me or my parents. It’s about Griffin’s parents, too.

  I should have known I could count on Phoebe. She cares about him as much as I do, so it’s probably only right that she’s helping. With a descendant of the goddess of Victory on my side, how can I fail?

  “What about a scuba tank?” Phoebe suggests.

  I shake my head. “Not enough air time.”

  “Besides,” Troy adds, “the atmospheric pressure would kill her long before she got to the seafloor.”

  Phoebe and I both gawk at him.

  “What?” He raises his hands in defeat. “I took physics.”

  I kick a pebble off the path as we cross campus from the library to Phoebe’s house. We spent the morning working on the next step of the quest—getting a silver seashell from Poseidon’s underwater palace. All morning.

  According to our research, the hard part isn’t getting the seashell—although I’m sure that won’t be a walk in the sea park. The gods don’t like making things easy for anyone, even their descendants.

  No, the hard part is actually getting there.

  The location of Poseidon’s palace is a carefully guarded secret. Which seems like overkill to me because it’s at the bottom of the seafloor and pretty much impossible to get to unless you belong there.

  All I know is that it’s somewhere at the bottom of the Mediterranean.

  “We could ask one of his descendants.” Troy chases after the pebble, kicking it back onto the concrete like he’s playing soccer.

  My only response is a glare. Troy knows how I feel about those dumber-than-rocks surfer morons. I’d rather drink the entire Mediterranean, boats and all, than try to have a conversation with one of them. One disastrous science-project partnership back in Level 7 was enough togetherness to last my lifetime. And about eight more.

  Phoebe ignores my irritation. “What about a submarine?”

  “What about a submarine?” I echo. “Do you have one hidden away in the harbor?”

  “No,” she says with a laugh. “Can’t we neofacture one?”

  “Neofact—” Troy bursts out laughing.

  I shake my head. “Not unless you have the complete schematics and the ability to memorize and understand them.”

  Phoebe frowns.

  “We would have to make sure every last bolt and wire was right,” Troy calms his laughter enough to explain. “None of us has ever built a submarine before, so it would be a huge risk.”

  “That’s why it’s easier to neofacture small things, like fruit”—I hold out my palm, concentrate, and a moment later a perfect orange appears in my hand—“than big, complex things.”

  “Too many variables,” Troy adds.

  Phoebe blushes. “Well, how would I know?”

  She’s still new to this whole powers-and-the-rules-that-bind-them world. She doesn’t know the ins and outs yet, but she’s learning.

  “I could always try getting in touch with a mermaid.” I hook my thumbs in my waistband. “Although I’d have to find one first.”

  “Wait,” Phoebe says, turning to walk backward in front of me. “Mermaids are real?”

  She sounds so shocked I have to laugh. Greek gods and their descendants and magical powers—that’s totally plausible, but she has trouble believing in mermaids?

  “Yeah,” I say. “They are.”

  “It’s the heat of summer,” Troy argues. “They’ve probably headed for cooler waters.”

  We fall silent as we approach Phoebe’s house.

  It shouldn’t be this difficult to get to the underwater palace. Of course, the gods like to make everything difficult, so why would I think this should be any different?

  “I haven’t got a clue,” I finally say as Phoebe opens her front door and leads us inside, back to her room. “How in the world am I going to find Poseidon’s palace and get myself down there without drowning?”

  Phoebe pushes open the door to her room and I walk inside. I freeze two steps in when I see Griffin sitting on her bed.

  Warning sensors blare in my brain. No, it’s not impossible that Phoebe’s boyfriend sitting there waiting for her is a total coincidence. But I’ve never been a big believer in coincidence.

  “Phoebe?” The warning edge in my voice is unmistakable.

  She moves to stand next to Griffin.

  “He needs to know.” She takes his hand. “This affects him, too.”

  I’m not sure how long I stand there fuming. Long enough for Troy to sneak around me and sink into the chair at Phoebe’s desk. Long enough for the anger to fade from my bloodstream. Long enough for me to process why I’m so freaked about this.

  I didn’t want anyone else involved in this stupid quest. First Troy wiggled his way in. Then Phoebe did. Now she’s bringing Griffin in, too. Why don’t we get her stepsister Stella involved? Maybe Stella’s boyfriend Xander, too? How about the whole school?

  This quest is too dangerous. I don’t want the responsibility of messing up their lives.

  I was supposed to do this alone.

  He stands, looking straight at me. “I know how you can get to the palace.”

  “You shouldn’t have told him, Phoebe,” I say.

  “She didn’t,” Griffin says.

  Phoebe shakes her head. “Not all of it. Just the part about the seashell.”

  “I told him the rest,” Troy volunteers.

  “You what?” I spin on him and am amazed when he doesn’t flinch. He’s just full of courage lately.

  “His parents vanished, Nic,” Troy says, his hazel eyes soft with sympathy. “He wants this as much as you do. If this has any chance of working, we need all the help we can get.”

  “I deserve to be part of this,” Griffin adds.

  They’re right. I know they’re right, but I don’t want them to be. I don’t have a hero complex or anything. I don’t want to be the savior who single-handedly fixes everything. Okay, I do, but that’s not all of it. Other people—other people’s emotions—complicate things. I don’t want them risking everything for my mistake. This is my make good.

  Still, as much as I want to argue, I know they make a valid point. My parents only got banished from the mythological world. I can still talk to them on the phone, video chat with them on Skype. As soon as I graduate, I’ll be able to see them in real life.

  Griffin’s parents got smoted. As in vanished off the face of the earth, never to be heard from again.

  He definitely has the greater stake in the time-travel quest. Just because I want to save the day, single-handedly fix everything with no risk to anyone else I care about, doesn’t mean that’s the right way to approach this. Considering how impossible task two is being, I clearly need the help.

  I run my hands through my short hair, trying to smooth out my emotions.
r />   “Okay,” I say. “What’s your idea? How do I get to Poseidon’s palace?”

  Everyone in the room relaxes.

  Griffin smiles. “It just so happens, I know a sea nymph who owes me a favor.”

  Great. A sea nymph. They have a history of being . . . temperamental. This is going to be a treat.

  The next morning at dawn we meet on the beach. As the sky in front of us melts from flaming orange into brilliant blue, we wait for Griffin’s sea-nymph friend to arrive.

  “I’ve never met a sea nymph,” Phoebe says, her voice full of excitement.

  “Me neither,” I reply.

  Troy adds, “They’re not exactly common on land.”

  “How do you know her?” Phoebe asks her boyfriend.

  His cheeks turn bright red. “I, um . . .” He glances nervously at me, as if I can help him out here. When I shrug, he says, “When I was fifteen, she saw me on a yacht off the coast of Italy.”

  Phoebe’s brows scrunch up. “And . . . ?”

  Griffin huffs out a breath. “And she pulled me overboard.”

  “She what?” Phoebe gasps.

  “She wasn’t trying to kill me,” he insists. “She . . . wanted to keep me.”

  Phoebe fumes.

  Troy stifles a laugh.

  “Obviously she didn’t,” I say, not hiding my smile. “Why does she owe you a favor?”

  “It was a big misunderstanding.” He toes his sneaker into the sand. “Everyone thought I’d drowned. There was a huge search party. In the end I had to say I was hiding, in order to keep the media from finding out the truth.”

  “You covered for her,” I say.

  Phoebe nods, as if saying that sounds like something Griffin would do, and I turn to stare out over the water. My eyes are skimming across the ripples in the surface when Griffin says, “She’s here.”

  Phoebe gasps.

  Troy makes a kind of choking, sucking sound.

  Even I’m a little speechless.

  Rising out of the water, about fifty feet out from shore, is the most breathtakingly beautiful creature I have ever seen. She has long, flowing hair the exact color of a shiny copper coin. As she steps out of the water, her hair hangs in wet curls almost to her ankles. Her skin is porcelain perfect, and she has bright green eyes, dark lashes, and rosy pink lips.

  She’s wearing what looks like a seaweed bikini. A practically nonexistent seaweed bikini.

  “Griffin,” the nymph says, her entire body smiling his name. “I have been waiting for your call.”

  “It’s good to see you again.”

  I notice Phoebe edge closer to her boyfriend. When he grabs her hand, the sea nymph’s eyes widen.

  “Ah,” she says. “You have called for the favor, then.”

  “Yes,” Griffin replies.

  The nymph gives him a longing once-over, like it practically hurts that he isn’t looking for something more. I’ll admit, Griffin is pretty much the whole package, if that’s what you’re looking for. Personally, I like a little less of the catalog-perfect image. Besides, Griffin is practically my brother and he’s my best friend’s boyfriend.

  When the nymph returns her gaze to his face, she sighs. “I made a promise.”

  “We need to get to Poseidon’s palace,” Griffin explains.

  I step forward. “I need to get there.”

  Griffin flicks me a dark look, but I ignore him.

  “Is this your wish?” the nymph asks Griffin.

  He nods.

  She turns her attention to me. “Few seek the sea god’s home successfully.”

  It takes all my self-control not to say, That’s why we called you.

  She studies me for several long seconds, like she’s evaluating me. I clench my fists and straighten under the scrutiny. No way some sea tramp is going to stand in my way. All she’ll see when she studies me is strength and determination.

  Finally, she says, “Very well.”

  As she walks up to me, I stand frozen to the spot. Her green eyes are unreadable. I’m not sure what she’s going to do—autoport me, throw me in the water, or drown me for fun. You never know with a sea nymph.

  I refuse to flinch as she stops in front of me and reaches for my face. She wraps her palms around the back of my head before leaning in close. I scowl. What is she going to do, kiss me?

  The urge to pull away is overwhelming.

  She stops an inch from my face, whispers some indecipherable words, and then exhales slowly.

  As I breathe in, I feel a tingle in my throat.

  “I have given you agua respire,” she says. “You will be able to breathe water for one cycle of the sun.”

  I nod, unable to form words.

  The sea nymph turns back to Griffin. “I will lead her to the palace.”

  He smiles. “Thank you.”

  “This shall settle our score?” she asks. When he nods, she turns back to me and takes my hand. “Do not be frightened.”

  I snort. As if I’m scared of anything.

  But as she leads me past my friends, toward the water, a tiny taste of fear touches my tongue. I’m about to go deep into the Mediterranean, to breathe water as I seek a forbidden palace. Phoebe, Griffin, and Troy wave good-bye. I wave back, then follow the nymph into the sea.

  I tell myself that panic is a normal reaction. It’s not every day a girl tries to breathe water. I’d be more concerned if I wasn’t scared. With the sea nymph at my side, I suck in my first lungful of water—bracing for the terror that will come. Water flows in and out of me like I was born to it. She smiles and—before I can adjust to the idea that I’m breathing water—takes off across the seafloor, pulling me with her. We speed over seaweed meadows, through dark, rocky outcroppings, and around fishing lines that reach down from the surface above. She swims faster than any fish I’ve ever seen.

  I’m not sure if she’s in a hurry to get this over with or if she’s trying to keep me from being able to retrace our steps—or, more accurately, our kicks. Whatever the reason, it seems like only a few minutes have passed when she slows our pace over what looks like an underwater canyon.

  “Hold tight,” she says. A heartbeat later we’re diving fast, deep into the canyon below.

  We reach the canyon floor in about five seconds and then we’re swimming forward again, weaving through the rocky cliffs at hyperspeed. Suddenly, the canyon walls are gone and we emerge in a massive underwater chamber. A giant cave.

  And right smack in the center of the giant cave is a giant castle.

  “Poseidon’s palace,” I whisper.

  “I can take you no farther,” she says. “You must find your own way inside.”

  “Okay,” I say, nodding and trying to give myself courage for the task ahead. “I’ll be as fast as I—”

  “To get home,” she interrupts, making it clear she won’t be waiting for me, “follow the canyon path until you can swim for the surface. From there, I believe you can get yourself home.”

  Right. Once I’m out of Poseidon’s protection, beyond the range of the magic that defends his palace, I can autoport back to Serfopoula.

  “Thank you,” I say. “This means a lot—”

  She turns and swims away before I can say to Griffin. How rude. She didn’t even tell me her name.

  But I can’t complain. She got me here, to Poseidon’s palace. That’s all we asked.

  Now, I just have to figure out how to get past security, get inside, and get a silver seashell without getting caught.

  6

  Poseidon’s palace is way more intimidating than Mount Olympus. Probably because I’ve never lived here, never even seen it before. Also because it’s underwater, in an impossible-to-find cave, and surrounded by massive statues of sea monsters and trident-wielding mermen.

  I swear, all the extra security is wasted. Most people would take one look and turn tail for home.

  As I swim toward the palace, it’s not hard to locate the main entrance: a pair of silver doors that must be at le
ast fifty feet tall and almost as wide. If Mount Olympus is a testament to marble and gold, Poseidon’s palace makes its statement in gray stone and silver. The palace looks like a mash-up of medieval castle and Victorian house, with towers and turrets and odd little statues and balconies everywhere.

  Now that I’m here, I have no idea what I’m going to do. According to the nymph I only have twenty-four hours before this becomes an instant drowning situation. I have to act fast. The trouble is I’m going in blind. We couldn’t find any blueprints of this palace lying around the library—at least not anywhere I could access, since Troy’s secret girlfriend (gag) was nowhere to be found. I won’t be finding any secret entrances down here.

  Even if I get inside, I don’t have the first clue where to find the silver seashell. In a place this huge, it could take months to see every room, let alone search them all.

  It would take me half an hour to swim around the perimeter. I don’t have that kind of time.

  I look up at the massive silver doors. This is insane. The whole quest is insane. Time travel? I have to be completely nuts to even think I can make this happen.

  But for me, courage—and crazy—have never been in short supply. I know why I’m doing this, and nothing is going to stop me.

  I just have to put myself on the line a little.

  “Think, Nicole,” I mutter.

  How do I get inside? I can’t break in. One push on a silver door reveals that it must weigh twenty tons. Even if it wasn’t pressured on both sides by a sea full of water, it would be impossible to force open. I’m not moving that.

  Maybe I can sneak in.

  Swimming away from the entrance, I head toward the nearest balcony. If I’m lucky—ha!—the door will be unlocked and I can be inside in seconds.

  I don’t even make it to the balcony before smacking face-first into some invisible force. I press my palms against some kind of magical protection. I swim a few feet in either direction, but the field surrounds the entire palace. A supernatural security shield. Probably put in place to keep out thieves like me.

  Great, no sneaking in for me.

  If I can’t break in and I can’t sneak in . . . that leaves only one option.