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.

Kicking my way back down to the doors, I suck in a breath of water, tighten up my courage, and raise my hand to grab one of the bull-shaped silver door knockers—why the god of the sea would choose a land mammal as one of his sacred symbols is beyond me. I only hesitate half a second before banging the knocker against the door. All in.

“No going back now.”

I wait, listening for any sounds from the other side of the doors. Not that I could hear an explosion through them. The water would muffle everything anyway.

I start counting in my head. When I get to fifty, I start thinking maybe no one is home. Maybe the palace is closed for the summer or something.

By seventy I’m pretty sure this is a lost cause.

At one hundred, my shoulders slump. What am I going to do? Between the fortress-like doors and the magic force field, getting into this palace is impossible. If no one answers I don’t know what else to try. I start to turn away, defeated. As I do, a swirl of current whips past me and spins me back around.

I find myself face-to-face with what looks like a palace guard. It’s not an impressive guess since he’s wearing a navy-blue uniform jacket that matches his navy-blue tail fin and is decorated with almost as much silver as the palace itself.

“State your purpose,” he says.

“What?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Your purpose,” he repeats. “Why do you visit the sea god’s home?”

I’m so overwhelmed by the fact that someone is actually here and the door is open, that at first I can only stare.

He clears his throat. Loudly.

“Oh,” I say, coming back to my senses. Shoot, I hadn’t thought this far ahead. What should I say? I can’t simply ask for a seashell. What would any other hematheos come to this palace for? Why would they make this risky journey?

Without waiting to think up something tactical, I blurt, “I would like an audience with the sea god.” The guard’s eyes widen, but I nod. “I would like to speak with Poseidon.”

I expect him to slam the door in my face. Or maybe set the sea dogs after me. Who am I to ask for an audience with a god-king?

But the guard bows his head and says, “Please wait here.”