Stone Blind(49)

He surfaced beside a large rock. Birds flew in every direction as seawater spurted into the air. He lifted himself out of the waves and lay on the warm stone. He had never questioned his grandeur before. And yet, as he admired his mighty trident glinting in the violent sun, he felt a brief shudder. What was that? It could not be that he was cold – gods did not feel hot, or cold. It certainly wasn’t an earthquake: how could the ocean tremble if he, Poseidon, had not struck the seabed with his trident? It was something else, something internal. He felt – he frowned with the effort of trying to name this bizarre sensation – uncomfortable. As though he could see himself with Athene’s eyes. This was clearly absurd and he dismissed the feeling. He looked magnificent: the king of all the seas, lounging atop this handsome rock, utterly at home. But then it came back: the odd feeling of something being wrong. For the briefest moment, he wondered if he looked like a lolling seal. But this was impossible. He was an all-powerful god and droplets of his beautiful ocean dripped grandly from his beard. And here was the thought again: he might resemble a lumpen seal basking on a rock.

He shook his head, sending water in every direction. A mighty god.

A damp, petulant sea creature.

He looked around him: eyes scanning the horizon. Athene was not there. Her contemptuous gaze was not trained on her uncle: she might be cunning but she wasn’t usually invisible. So if she wasn’t there, why did he feel that she was watching him?

He dismissed her from his mind, once and for all. He knew she was plotting against him, but he could do nothing about that until she revealed her plan. He must simply wait, and be ready for her.

He waited for the discomfort to subside. Poseidon had long trusted his instincts and now he had listened to them – and their advice to be wary of Athene – surely they would leave him in peace? She was going to try to take something he wanted, or destroy something he loved. Those were the only two possibilities. And now he was prepared.

He turned over to stare at the sun. The only eyes on the sea god now were those of Helios, flying overhead with his blazing light. He could enjoy this time above the water, away from his wife in the ocean depths, from his niece in the Olympian heights, from the rest of the Nereids who were angry about something some woman had said and demanding he punish her and her husband. He would have to give them what they wanted: even a god as powerful as him could not ignore fifty Nereids for long. They made so much noise.

The prickling feeling had not subsided. It was not Athene who had made him nervous. Nor Amphitrite. Nor the other Nereids. If he could be honest with himself, he knew whose eyes he could feel on him, though he didn’t know those eyes had now been changed beyond recognition.

*

When Poseidon skulked back to his wife, she knew something was troubling him, but she did not ask him any questions or offer any comfort. He sighed and moaned, and Amphitrite ignored him. He lay beside her, resting his head on her shoulder, his greenish locks wrapped around her shoulders like seaweed.

‘Are you comfortable, my love?’ she asked. She shifted her arm a little, to see the dappled light move on her pale skin.

‘Not really,’ he replied.

She tried not to sigh, because she knew he took it personally. Besides, this was still an opportunity. ‘You’re melancholy again,’ she said.

‘I am,’ he replied.

‘Because you have been slighted.’

He edged a little closer. ‘Yes.’

‘No wonder your feelings are hurt,’ she said. ‘I have felt hurt on your behalf.’ She ran her fingers gently through his seaweed hair, untangling it without snagging.

‘Have you?’ he asked.

‘Of course.’ Amphitrite knew he loved to feel her fingers on him. ‘What kind of wife would I be, if I felt nothing when you are insulted and rejected?’

She felt him stiffen slightly, and realized that he was afraid she might know about the Gorgon girl. Poor, stupid Poseidon, she thought. Always so sure he was discreet in his pursuits, always so utterly mistaken. She continued, as though she hadn’t noticed. ‘How could the other gods be so unfeeling?’ She felt him relax against her. ‘They are jealous, my love.’

‘Do you really think so?’ he asked.

‘Of course,’ she replied. ‘Your kingdom is vast.’

‘Zeus’s kingdom is bigger,’ he said.

‘I suppose that’s true,’ said Amphitrite. ‘If you like that sort of thing. Empty skies. Weather.’

‘The other Olympians do like that sort of thing,’ he said. ‘They think my kingdom is dark and damp.’

‘That’s because if they thought about what it really is – a vast world teeming with life, all ruled by you – they would be even more jealous. I suppose that might explain . . .’ She stroked his hair, her voice faltering.

‘Might explain what?’ he asked.

‘Why they are content to see you lose part of your kingdom to Zeus,’ she said.

‘The Gorgons stole my territory,’ he snarled. ‘Zeus will claim no responsibility for it at all.’

‘I’m sure that’s right,’ she said. ‘I don’t suppose you could . . . No, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to.’

‘Want to what?’ Poseidon sat up and looked at his wife. ‘What could I do?’

‘You could take something in exchange?’ she said. ‘Or somewhere.’