Silence had tight hold on his hand, and he would admit, it seemed odd his lungs still worked the longer they were under and the deeper they went.

It was not even the amount of merfolk who swam after them.

He was glad to know they were a people of plenty, for his wife, as well as for all lands to know their goodness when they had a mind to journey to them.

And it wasn’t the schools of fish and pods of dolphins that accompanied them as they swam behind Jorie, who held Elena by one hand, Cassius by the other. True and Farah were attached to another mermale. Aramus had his Ha-lah.

No, it was when the stingrays joined their party and waved about them. And the bloody enormous whales arrived and undulated at their sides, filling the depths with their ethereal song.

Not to mention the damned sharks.

Though, as they approached the glowing-blue cave, Silence had warned him about the angmostros, thank the gods.

Jorie, Cassius and Elena entered first.

Silence took him in next.

Aramus and Ha-Lah followed and True and Farah were escorted in after.

And he found his wife was right.

The water in that tunnel glowed blue as well, and with it came a heartening feeling of goodness and light.

Not too far into it, the tunnel led them up and they broke the surface to breathe air.

The Mer who were escorting True and Farah retreated.

Mars’s feet found sand and he held his wife close as her fin turned to legs.

The wet dripping from him, his eyes took in everything.

The cavern about them was shaped as a shell, the pearlescent surface glowing blue, green and pink.

Many globes all about laced with twine hung suspended by nothing in midair and they shone with the same colors.

The sand that led up to the island in the middle of the space was an immaculate white, and so fine, it was almost dust and soft as velvet under his feet.

And sitting two spectacular thrones on that island were Triton and Medusa.

Her throne was made of shell and pearls and tufted at the feet with floating anemone.

His was made of branches and rivulets and shelves of coral.

Mars studied the gods.

They had not worn their crowns when he had last seen them.

They wore them now.

At the front of Medusa’s head, through her red hair, sprang a tiara made of spiraled shells and starfish, lengths of pearls and sprays of diamonds, a star of those last coasting onto her forehead, and ropes of both falling down the sides of her face.

Triton’s crown of gold and shells surrounded his head, out of the inside of which sprung meandering spikes of coral.

And this time, instead of fins, they both had legs.