Horsemen's War (The Rebellion Chronicles #3) - Steve McHugh Page 0,7

shouted and waited for the count of two before detonating the sphere.

The blast rushed out across the bow of the ship, followed quickly by the screams of every single siren that hadn’t been shielding its eyes. The screams continued for several seconds, becoming more and more distant as the sirens dived into the water.

“Well, they know we’re here,” Diana said.

“Good,” Mordred said. “That’s sort of the idea.”

The team made their way to the entrance to the first-class compartment, where Chloe used the key card to open the door. They walked down the hallway beyond before stopping outside room 102 and using the key card again. With the door unlocked, the team stepped inside the lavish suite. Everything was tastefully decorated, and the windows were open, leading to a private balcony.

A man sat in the middle of a large leather sofa. He had bare feet, white three-quarter-length trousers, and an open blue-and-yellow shirt, revealing his hairy chest and six-pack. His dirty-blond hair was long and tied back with ribbons of varying colors.

“Mordred,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve been watching you play with my sirens.” The man pointed to the large monitor on the wall, which showed camera feeds from around the ship.

“Poseidon?” Diana asked. “You little fucker.”

Poseidon’s hand turned into water. “I wouldn’t, Diana,” he said. “Let’s not make this any worse for you.”

“You notice you’re outnumbered, yes?” Remy asked. “There is only one of him, right?”

“I am a god,” Poseidon said.

Remy shrugged.

“You had thousands of people murdered,” Chloe snapped.

“Actually, the sirens did that; I just didn’t stop them. Workers need to feed, you know.” Poseidon got to his feet and paused. “Why are you smiling?” he asked Mordred, walking behind the sofa, putting it between himself and Mordred’s people.

“I wasn’t sure it was you,” Mordred said. “We knew about the cameras, though. We found someone who worked on the ship; they told us that there had been a special request for it. I’m guessing you were in part the financier of this ship.”

“I have lived aboard this ship for some time,” Poseidon said. “Always moving, always near my beautiful oceans. And I like people watching. I paid a lot for the privilege. It’s why I didn’t have the crew killed. I need them to make the ship work, but also to keep me in the manner I’m accustomed to living in. Can’t very well murder the people who change my sheets and cook my food.”

“Well, we also knew that you’d be watching us when we landed,” Mordred continued, ignoring the man who climbed up over the railing from the ocean. He wore all black and had a balaclava on, hiding his face. He crept slowly across the carpet until he was behind Poseidon.

“You’re going to answer some questions,” Mordred said.

“And if I tell you to go fuck yourselves?” Poseidon asked with a smirk.

“You know, I think I’m powerful enough to kill you myself,” Mordred said. “Almost certainly, but someone else wanted to say hi, and I told him if he got here before the questions started, he could take part.”

A blade of lightning punctured out the front of Poseidon’s chest. He convulsed and dropped to the floor, whereupon the masked man removed the balaclava to reveal Nate Garrett.

“Hey, Poseidon,” Nate said, looking down at the man, whose eyes filled with sudden terror.

Mordred walked over and stood beside Nate, looking down at Poseidon. “I think we’ll find a way to get the answers we want. I just don’t think you’re going to enjoy them very much.”

Chapter Two

NATE GARRETT

The Atlantic Ocean

We tied Poseidon up and placed him in a bedroom, and Zamek drew runes on its walls, limiting his power in case he broke the sorcerer’s band I’d put on his wrist. Poseidon was one of the most powerful beings in any realm, and taking chances would get us all killed. The sorcerer’s band ensured he couldn’t use his elemental powers, and if he tried to remove it, the runes on the wooden beads would explode, turning him to steam. I hated the things, but when needs must . . .

“Sorry I almost missed the party,” I said to Mordred. “There are a lot of prisoners belowdecks. A few thousand people. Mostly passengers, but a fair few crew. Lots of sirens patrolling the ocean around us too. Thanks for taking a few of them off our hands.”

“The plan was that I would make a show of it, and they were happy to oblige,” Mordred said. “We found a few crew members