Christopher Columbus and the Lost City of Atlantis

by E. J. Robinson

  The hydra roared with fury, shaking the entire cavern. As its legs hammered down, Columbus struggled to keep his balance and evade more volleys of ice, acid, and flame. Between barrages, Columbus looked down to see the fire had consumed the platform. Not only that, but the base of the obelisk had burned away, leaving only a thin stone column holding it aloft. Whatever element the Athenians had coated that wood with had preserved its flammable state for a long time.

  When the hydra pulled up, Columbus turned to taunt it. “What’s the matter, you giant polyp? You overgrown worm. You had enough?”

  The hydra roared again and continued to chase Columbus. Every time the behemoth slowed, Columbus mocked it again. “I’ve seen some leviathans in my day, but you are a sad excuse for an oarfish!”

  Acid.

  “Marco!” Columbus shouted.

  Fire.

  “Polo!” Columbus howled.

  Ice.

  As Columbus had anticipated, the cavern was soon filled with smoke. It was like a fog of war had descended, obscuring the small man from the lumbering beast. Only then did Columbus toss the shield to ensure the hydra could see the pyre worms on his armor.

  Encircling the snake ring a final time, a weary Columbus dove to the ground, grimacing as a surge of pain buckled his knees. He nearly passed out then but managed to stumble into the pool at the front of the ring just as the hydra stomped around.

  This was the hard part. If he failed here, he would die. But if he succeeded? One step closer to the trident.

  The hydra staggered through the smoke. When it saw Columbus thirty paces ahead, it stopped, likely wondering if this was some new trick. Columbus held his arms up, shouting, “Well? I’m here!”

  As those three heads began undulating back and forth, a sliver of panic welled inside Columbus. Had he gotten the timing of the hydra’s volleys correct? Was the last one fire or acid? He wasn’t certain. He could only stand his ground. He waited until the right head of the hydra canted back and sucked in its biggest draw of air yet. Then the head shot forward, its great maw opening, and it spewed.

  The hydra scanned the smoke to see if it had finished the flesh thing. It couldn’t see it. In all its time in the deep dark, no prey had ever made it work so hard, toil so long before surrendering its flesh. It knew the creature’s way—to run, to hide. But he always found them in the end. So, when the hydra stepped upon the ice his previous attack had made of the pool, it never hesitated. It slid forward gleefully, ready to claim its prize. Only then, out of the corner of one eye, did it see him. Back in the forbidden place, beyond the fire and smoke. He saw them. The insects of flame that adorned its metal skin. It stood in the shadow of the great stone. Safe, it thought. It had hurt the stone, but it would hurt no more. The hydra drew in another draught and released hell.

  The acid splashed over Columbus’s armor, which he’d removed and propped in front of the obelisk’s base. He suspected the stone within was marble, not too fragile, but fragile enough. From behind the obelisk, Columbus watched the acid mix with the marble’s calcite, the crystals started to break down. The obelisk wobbled. Only then did the hydra realize what it had done. Columbus watched the behemoth turn to flee, its legs skittering over the ice. It moved slowly, but so did the acid. Fearing the Hydra might escape, Columbus lifted the sword and charged. He swung the rusted blade with all his might. When it struck stone, the impact was so great Columbus’s arm snapped at the wrist. And yet, it was enough.

  A loud snap rang through the cavern. The obelisk jolted and then canted forward. The hydra tried to flee, but it had no traction on the ice. The great beast watched with dread as the obelisk fell through the gap in the snake ring, right on top of it, crushing the hydra under a mountain of stone.

  The cavern shook. When the rumble ceased, and the smoke cleared, the hydra was dead. The head of the snake atop the obelisk completing a perfect ring as the Athenians had always intended it.

  Columbus stumbled forward, broken and weary beyond belief. As he passed the great hydra’s carcass, he wondered if he should feel guilt or relief. He had bested a pet of the Gods. Likely, there would never be another. He was proud to have faced the beast and won, but part of him lamented its death. One more mystery removed from the world only made it a bleaker, more mundane place.

  Near the tip of the obelisk lay the second key. Columbus bent over and took it.

  Outside the labyrinth, King Atlas and the others continued searching for another way in. They had heard the battle raging within, knew Columbus was risking his life to save theirs, and yet they could do nothing to help him.

  When the roars finally went silent, many assumed Columbus had failed. Only Elara knew otherwise. A few minutes later, a grinding noise echoed through the chamber, followed by the opening of another hidden door.

  Through the smoke, a figure lumbered out, covered in soot, clutching a blackened sword and shield. Elara cried out. Fanucio called his name. But it was the king who caught Columbus as he fell.

  The mariner looked close to death, but when he held up that gem-encrusted key, he managed something close to a smile.

  “I’ve got you, boy,” King Atlas said. “Well done.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Where is he?” Nyx gasped, out of breath.

  She had waited atop the highest balcony for the king’s vanguard to return, still distraught and confused after all the Fates had shown her, after what she’d read in the book Columbus asked her to steal. Her stomach had churned like a sea in tumult. And then, they appeared. Even from afar, she could see their numbers had dwindled significantly. Many Eldocks swam riderless behind the vanguard, a few pulling what Nyx assumed were bodies in their wake. She could hear the mournful bays across the water. It felt like nails on her skin. She waited as patiently as she could, hoping to see Columbus at the forefront, but there was only the king, his daughter, and their retinue, with Fanucio and the Pygmies behind them.

  She didn’t bother with the transportation tube, choosing to dash down the stairs instead. She had to press through the glut of tense faces outside the eldock pens as the casualties were named.

  Columbus was nowhere to be found.

  At last, she found Fanucio sitting alone in a corner of the eldock pens. He looked as if he’d aged a thousand years. World weary, uniform stained with blood. Still, his face warmed when he saw her.

  “Where is he?” Nyx asked, her voice shaky. “What happened to Columbus?”

  Fanucio held up a hand. “Easy, lass. The cap’n’s alive. But he was injured, so the king sent him somewhere the healers could look after him. More’n that, I can’t say. It was…” He shook his head. “We was lucky to have survived.”

  There was no bluster to his statement. He could barely look at the bodies of the dead as they were carried past. Nyx couldn’t look away. She was no wallflower. She had grown up on an island after all and had seen her share of injuries, even deaths, but this was something else entirely. Limbs shorn off, flesh gnawed away. Her stomach churned. Fanucio must have seen her discomfort because he stood, taking her by the hand, walking her up to the next floor to a balcony where they could take in the fresh air in the afternoon sun. When he sighed, it was with that easy peacefulness he reserved for the company of his captain.

  “He’s somethin’, that man,” Fanucio said at last. “Battled another sea serpent, all by his self. And damned if he didn’t slay it too.”

  “Sea serpent? Like the one before?”

  “Well, I can’t speak to its parts and such. I was on one side of a wall, and it was on another. But I heard it—tromping around like a heard of lions, blustering. Must've been a goliath too the way it nearly brought the damned mountain down around us.”

  “Why was he alone? Where were the others?”

  “It was the labyrinth. Once he got in, the doors closed, and the rest of us was left to spectatin’. Say what you want about them slaves, they know drama. When the cap’n finally reappeared, he was in a state, talking about ice, fire, and
demons. Woulda thought he was drunk except by the state of him.”

  “I want to see him,” she said.

  “Soon, lass. Do you want to hear the good news? He got the second key.”

  “I don’t care about the keys, Fanucio. I need to see Columbus now.”

  “Easy, lass,” Fanucio said, looking around. “Those keys are why we done this. They’re the one thing can get us home. Not to mention, save these folks’ bacon.”

  “That’s the thing. I’m not so sure it can.”

  Fanucio’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Only then did he really look at her. The realization that she’d been through something terrible spreading across his face. He reached out and clamped his two meaty hands on her shoulders.

  “What is it, pea? Did something happen?”

  Nyx’s lip trembled. For the first time, she looked like a little girl.

  “I didn’t want to say anything until I spoke to Columbus, but…I saw the Seer.”

  Fanucio’s face grew grave. “You saw her or you saw her?”

  “Before he left, the captain asked me to retrieve something for him. I did, but what I found…it wasn’t what I expected. I went for a walk to clear my head. And somehow it led me to her. I can’t explain it any better.”

  “She took you to her lair?”

  “It’s not a lair—”

  “Did she put you under her spell?”

  “Fanucio! Focus. She’s not a witch. At least, I don’t think she is. My point is, I visited the Fates. I saw the past, present, and future. Fanucio, Columbus lied.”

  Fanucio looked around nervously before pulling Nyx closer. “Tell me everything, lass. From the beginning.”

  As Nyx spoke, a figure stood silently in the shadows, listening.

  When Columbus first woke, he had no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there. Last thing he could remember, he had just defeated the hydra and had exited the labyrinth to find the king and the others waiting. Now here he was, lying in an enormous bed with sheets softer than silk, blinded by the sun that was pouring in from a window that must have been three stories high. It hurt his eyes.

  “He’s awake,” a husky voice said. “Draw the curtains.”

  A blurred figure crossed to the windows and touched the wall. A tone resonated, and the glass magically darkened.

  As Columbus’s vision returned, he found he was in a grand bedroom with opulent furnishings. A tapestry showcasing some bloody battle hung on the opposite wall, surrounded by statues of warriors in various states of repose. Though the walls and ceiling were gilded, something about the room felt cold.

  “How fare you, adventurer?” the voice said.

  Columbus turned to find King Atlas sitting by his bedside. Dion and a healer stood a few feet behind him.

  “Well enough, Your Grace,” Columbus responded. “I don’t recognize this place. Where are we?”

  The king looked around briefly. “These were my son’s chambers. The healer’s ward was full.”

  The healer’s ward? Why did he need…? And then Columbus remembered. He’d been injured badly in the labyrinth. A broken arm. Broken ribs. Burns by acid, fire, and ice. He lifted the sheet to check his body. His skin was pink as if rubbed raw, but his wounds were gone. His head snapped to the table where he saw it. A broken vial. He snatched it up.

  “You used another heart on me.”

  The king nodded. “Your injuries warranted it, and I approved it.”

  “Thank you.”

  The king nodded. That’s when Columbus got a good look at him. He was still dressed in half his armor, riddled with claw marks and dried blood. He looked weary, had scores of Gadeir wounded and dead, and yet he was here.

  “I would hear the tale of the labyrinth if you can recount it.”

  An image of the hydra flashed through Columbus’s mind. He closed his eyes.

  “It’s still a bit of a blur, I’m afraid.”

  The king nodded. “Later then. For now, let me offer my sincerest gratitude for your actions of this day. In my worst nightmare, I could not have foreseen the horrors that lay beneath that mountain. To overcome such evil—and to defeat one greater on your own—it showed courage I did not believe men possessed.”

  “Maybe we’re not that different after all.”

  King Atlas grinned softly.

  “The princess!” Columbus said, suddenly sitting up. “And my crew…”

  The king raised a hand. “Safe, all. Even now, my daughter examines the second key in hopes it will lead to the third. She waits for you to join her. After you have recovered, that is.”

  Just then, another quake shook the city. It was a slow rumble, likely to do little harm, but it drew Columbus’s eyes to the bedside table. The broken vial jounced toward the edge. Columbus reached out and snatched it just before it fell.

  Columbus weighed the vial as the rumbling stopped. “Do you ever regret it, sire? Letting go of your ancestor’s advances? I would think they could make life so much easier.”

  “Easy isn’t always better, mariner. No matter how much wisdom and experience we accrue, we only truly learn through pain. And no lesson is ever complete. For times change and we must change with them. My father taught me this, though I never really understood it until now. Yes, I suppose it’s easy for you to marvel at our advances and applaud our feats, but I tell you this, the beauty of this realm lies not in its cities or its riches, but in its people. They are the measure of our worth just as your friends are the measure of you.”

  Columbus thought of Fanucio and Nyx. Were they better for knowing him or worse?

  “Now, I have a question,” King Atlas continued. “It is important, so spare me the witty japes and tell me, how did you come by these?”

  The king gave a signal and Dion handed him a gleaming shield and sword. Columbus didn’t recognize them at first. And then he saw the graven images on the shield’s face and the lettering on the sword. Someone had cleaned the rust from them, revealing both as true treasures.

  “I found them down there,” Columbus said. “I thought they were junk. Clearly, I was wrong. Are they valuable?”

  “In your world, I suspect they would fetch quite a price, but to me, they are priceless.”

  Columbus understood. “They belonged to your son.”

  King Atlas nodded. “He was a brave boy, but foolhardy and rash as most youths are. I think he disliked being a prince. Or at least he hated the notion that his achievements might be something other than earned. Can’t say I blame him. Sovereignty is a burden few appreciate and many scorn. Can you tell me how they were found?”

  “When I first entered the labyrinth, I saw the signs of many a battle. Toppled walls, scorched stones at my feet. And in every nook and corner lay rusted armor and discarded weapons like these. As all else had turned to dust, these were the only way to mark the fallen. The labyrinth was true to its name. It is a maze of such dizzying complexity, I feared I might never escape. Then it came. I will spare you the hollow embellishments, Highness, and say only when I looked upon the hydra, I knew Satan and all his works to be true. How I survived where so many others had failed? It was luck. Blind luck.”

  “I don’t believe in luck. Neither do you. You say you found these there? That my Atreal made it to the labyrinth?”

  In the low light, Columbus saw the man’s face had changed. Gone was the monarch who could shoulder any burden. In his place, sat only a desperate father who wanted nothing more than to save some piece of his lost son. Had Columbus’s dad done the same? In that moment, he felt deeply for the man, and wished he had the courage to remind him he still had one living child who would give anything for a fraction of the love he held for the dead.

  “I found many weapons there, sire. But these were not among them.” The king’s shoulders started to sag. “These I found at the heart of the labyrinth, closer to the prize than any other.”

  King Atlas’s chest swelled as Columbus spoke.

  “And when I to
ok them up—I don’t know how else to say it—I felt spurred by something in that dark place. I wonder now if it was your son’s light that carried me to the end.”

  The king’s eyes grew moist. He swallowed before he spoke again. “You would have liked him, adventurer. Like you, he was flawed, but you could see glimpses of the who he would become. A man among men.” Then, to Columbus’s surprise, he held the shield out.

  Columbus eyed the shield, the artistry of its construction. No doubt the king was right. It would be worth a fortune in Columbus’s world. But right then, he didn’t feel worthy of it.

  “I can’t accept that, Your Grace. It is too great a gift.”

  “You’ve earned it.”

  The whooshing sound of the door closing prompted both men to turn. Dion had left the room.

  “Poseidon’s breath,” King Atlas sighed, “even my attempts to do the right thing fail me. Will I never learn?”

  “Elara told me about his vow.”

  “And did she tell you how I condemned it immediately? Dion has as much responsibility for my son’s death as you do, but the Gadeir hold themselves to a different standard. In all my kingdom, none has reaped greater honor than this loyal servant, and yet the boon he most needs, I cannot give him.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Forgiveness.”

  “And now I’ve taken that from him too. Maybe I will take that shield.”

  “Ah, mariner,” King Atlas said with a shake of his head. “He’s already given you much more than that.”

  Columbus looked down at the heart in his hands, eyes widening.

  The music swelled in the grand room, though less discordant and more somber than the night before. A bevy of pale-colored globes floated in the air, casting the room in glittering shadows that lit the glass above like the heavens that even the occasional quake couldn’t dim.

  On this night, each Atlantean wore a mask of a thousand different styles, some ornately painted and bejeweled, others sterile and cold. These were the death masks, worn to honor those that had fallen in battle. At the far end of the room was a long table where the widows and orphans of the dead accepted condolences. They bowed with honor when approached and were given small flowers picked from the garden, setting them in woven baskets on the table in front of them.