Christopher Columbus and the Lost City of Atlantis

by E. J. Robinson

  “Should have known that was too easy,” Columbus said.

  He turned to see the line of fire drawing near. He was about to step again when he noticed lettering on the stones at his feet. He knelt and wiped away the dirt.

  “Where the father leads, the son shall follow,” Columbus read. “Easy enough. Poseidon is the father, and I’m the son. In old Ionic, Poseidon starts with the Greek letter, Pi.”

  Looking down at the columns, Columbus saw they too were marked with letters. ‘Pi’ was etched on the center left column. He leaped onto it, only to hear a second crack. He leaped back again as it tumbled downward.

  What the hell? This needed more analysis, but the line of fire was already moving past him. Columbus looked down again, this time noticing a symbol etched below the words. It was a harpe—a sword with a sickle protrusion along one edge near the tip of the blade. It was one of the symbols for Cronos, Poseidon’s father! Damn, he’d taken the slaves' words figuratively instead of literally.

  Columbus identified the pillar bearing the first letter of Cronos’s name, Kappa. He jumped on it and it stood firm. Finally! He followed the progression. Rho. Omicron. Nu. Omicron. But where was Sigma? He’d reached the penultimate row, but there were no columns marked Sigma, only a Void where it should have stood. With the fire moving past the first obstacle and onto the second, Columbus didn’t have time to wait. He leaped for the pillar closest to the end of the chasm. It broke and canted forward. Columbus fought the instinct to jump right away, instead letting the column’s momentum carry him forward. At the last moment, he jumped and hit the ground on the far side hard, rolling to protect the egg. When he scrambled to his feet, he looked down at the egg and saw a thin crack in its shell.

  “The yolk was almost on me,” he exhaled and quickly moved for the second task.

  The flame was halfway through the second obstacle—a section of volcanic rock that spewed sporadic gouts of superheated gas into the air. Stalactites and stalagmites filled the low channel, more obstructions to evade. Still, Columbus saw little trouble ahead. And that’s what worried him. These Athenians were clever—and perverse. They wanted to make any challenger work for the prize. So what was the catch?

  The answer came quickly. Two steps into the grotto and a geyser popped twice in front of him. He dodged to his left just before it blew, blistering gas roaring over him. A few drops sprayed his cheek and hissed as it burned his skin, the rest struck against the rock ceiling and dispersed.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, something tittered behind Columbus. He spun but saw nothing. As the line of fire was moving quicker than he was, Columbus stepped forward tentatively and felt something brush his ear as he rounded a stalagmite. When his head turned, something grabbed the egg and tried to rip it from his hands. Columbus reared back, catching only a glimpse of something long and slimy slipping into a dark cleft above. A second and third titter echoed close by.

  Columbus moved quickly as more geysers erupted. He nearly heard one too late and was forced to launch himself forward as a spray of hot gas mushroomed overhead, this time burning his shoulder. His cry elicited more titters. Columbus felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. This was not going to turn out well at all.

  Columbus ran hard to his right. In response, a quartet of erupting geysers blocked his path. The instant their heat dispelled, three long appendages slithered down, black and slick as eels. Mouths appeared at the ends of those appendages, revealing pink mouths full of teeth. The nearest creature snapped at him, ripping the fabric of his suit while a second wrapped around the egg and pulled. Columbus shouted as the egg was nearly snatched from his hands.

  He was halfway through the obstacle when a geyser forced him behind a stalagmite. Just after it popped, the egg was ripped from his hands. The slithering creature had it in its mouth and was rising to steal it away, but the egg was too big for the aperture. The lanky appendage tossed the egg before Columbus could snatch it back. Columbus ran through a glut of those hanging eels as they passed the egg across the room. A loud hiss announced a geyser about to pop just under the creature currently holding the egg. In response, it dropped it and slithered upward. Columbus dove, catching the egg just before it struck the ground, before twirling away to avoid the hot gas that spewed up behind him.

  Sweating and bloody, Columbus tucked the egg and ran, hunkering down to avoid the strikes from above while spinning and leaping over the hissing geysers. A bite struck his arm, another, his leg. A hiss sounded directly in front of him and as it erupted, he instinctually held up the egg to protect his face. The egg was struck by the gas. To Columbus’s surprise, it felt cool to the touch. Interesting.

  More of those eelish things appeared, snapping and tittering as the path ahead of him closed. Columbus saw a buildup in a geyser in front of him. Thinking fast, he shouted, “You fellas hungry? Here!” He rolled the egg onto the top of the geyser. A herd of hungry slithering eel things swarmed down for the egg. Just as one wrapped around it, the geyser blew, sending hot gas spraying over all of them. They screeched in pain and retreated.

  Columbus shot forward, scooped up the egg as he dashed pell-mell through the fray, geysers blasting him from all sides, the eel-like projections snapping and biting until finally he broke free of the second obstacle, bloodied, but alive. He looked down at the egg and winced. More cracks tattooed its shell. He didn’t think it would survive a third obstacle.

  That’s when Columbus remembered the line of fire. It had already reached the third obstacle and was headed straight for the thatch nest where the egg was supposed to go. Columbus knew if the nest caught fire, his quest was over, and the Siren Queen would likely feast on him herself.

  But as he moved up to the third obstacle, Columbus had no clue how it worked. The pool was thirty feet long, rectangular, with water black as pitch. Along the sides were two sloped walls dotted with a thousand circular holes. He picked a rock up and tossed it onto the wall. Instantly, a thousand razor-sharp barbs shot up on both sides.

  “Someone really wants us to swim,” Columbus muttered to the egg.

  The fire line was halfway across the pool. He was running out of time. And yet every instinct he had told him not to go near that water. Nothing good would come of it. His stomach churned. He was tired beyond belief. The nest was too far to throw the egg without cracking it. The only option left was to swim.

  He stepped up to the pool and took three quick breaths. As he leaned forward, a drop of blood fell from his chin and splashed the surface of the water. Instantly, the water churned with a bubbling frenzy.

  “Mother Mary,” Columbus whispered. What the hell was in there?

  Columbus dipped a toe of his boot into the water. Again, the water percolated. He pulled his boot out to find the tip had been eaten away. His head snapped up. The line of fire was three quarters of the way past the pool, almost to the nest. If he couldn’t swim and he couldn’t go around, what was he supposed to do? He looked up. The ceiling was too high to reach. Even if he had a rope, there was nothing to tie it to. Columbus looked back to the Siren Queen, who watched silently from her ledge.

  “What am I supposed to do?” he shouted.

  There was no answer. The fire line continued to run. Columbus gauged he had less than thirty seconds to get the egg to the nest. That’s when an odd thought struck him. Why did the slaves build a nest here when the sirens birthed their young? He’d seen the Siren Queen’s distended belly with his own eyes, as well as the fledgling young. What he hadn’t seen was a single egg of any kind.

  Was it possible?

  Columbus looked at the Siren Queen again. “If the egg isn’t yours, maybe it doesn’t belong in the nest. And if that’s the case…”

  Columbus knelt and cracked the egg on the edge of the pool. He held it over the lip and let the viscera inside spill into the black water. In an instant, the entire pool exploded in a frenzy. The water bubbled and churned as the occupants beneath swarmed the gooey contents of the egg.

  In
the same instant, Columbus dove as far forward as he could. As he hit the water, he felt thousands of fish swarming past him. He swung his arms and kicked his legs as fast as he could, keeping his eyes shut and his mouth closed until he reached the end of the pool and scrambled up onto the stones. The fire line broke the last gate and was spreading to the oils beneath the nest as Columbus scaled the thatch and looked in. There, sat the third gem-encrusted key. He grabbed it and leaped down as the nest burst into flames.

  “Yes!” he roared. “Yes!” He looked around. “Now someone get me out of here!”

  They stood at the exterior bridge outside the siren lair. Elara bowed to the Siren Queen.

  “This will not be forgotten,” she said.

  The Siren Queen tipped her head before she and her brood funneled back into their lair. Columbus and Elara headed in the opposite direction.

  “You look terrible,” Elara said.

  “Gee, thanks, Columbus,” Columbus replied. “You really saved my bacon back there. Thanks for being the man of my dreams.”

  “You mock me. I deserve this.”

  “No. I…” He stopped to face her. “I want to say I’m sorry for what happened before. Nyx was right. I came here seeking only the trident. But somewhere along the way, you became important to me.”

  “Me or Atlantis?”

  “Both. But mostly you.”

  To his surprise, she stepped close and put a hand on his cheek. “It is a sweet irony that one who ventured here purely in the pursuit of treasure should find the most valuable one within himself.”

  “Does that mean our deal’s off?”

  Elara laughed out loud and resumed walking. “You are truly a hero of the ages.”

  “Ooh, I like that. Christopher Columbus, Hero of the Ages. Now, that’s a catchphrase I can get behind.”

  At that moment, another quake shook the cavern. Both smiles died.

  “The Anak-Ta Eleece is not through just yet. We have retrieved the three keys. What’s next?”

  “We take them to the Hall of Poseidon.”

  “But the Hall is outside the Void. How do we pass it?”

  “The same way I did. With the eldocks.”

  “So, they can survive outside.”

  “While protecting us in the process.”

  Columbus ducked through the final stone archway out into the night. The cool air hit him, followed by the gentle sound of water lapping on the shore. Even with the smoke from the seabed billowing in, it was a welcome sight.

  “First, we need to get back to your father. Convincing him won’t be…” Columbus turned, but Elara wasn’t behind him.

  “Princess?” He saw a shadow lying on the ground near the cave entrance. “Elara!” He rushed to her side. “What happened?”

  Before he could rouse her, a club struck Columbus across the back of his head. The last thing he remembered seeing was a hand picking the gem-encrusted key out of the dirt.

  “God’s will happened, Columbus,” Vespucci said with a grin. “And one must never go against a God.”

  Vespucci turned and hustled off into the night.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “She’s dead?” King Atlas repeated, his husky voice given way to breathlessness. Though he held the third gem-encrusted key in his hand, it might as well have been air. At his behest, the king’s daughter had gone into the devil’s den and retrieved what no one else could. She had paid her life for it. Now, both his children were gone, and he didn’t even have their bodies to mourn. He was truly alone.

  “I am terribly sorry, your Highness,” Vespucci said. “If it makes any difference, her sacrifice was quite valiant. Without it, I would not have been able to acquire the third key and escape.”

  The king’s eyes snapped up Vespucci, as if he’d forgotten the man was even there. Three days ago, the king would have drawn his sword and cut the man down where he stood. Now, he wasn’t sure he could even pull the blade from its scabbard. As he fell back into his chair, several of his coterie moved to comfort him. He waved them all back, eyes returning to the foreigner.

  “I will require a full accounting of what transpired in the Craw,” King Atlas said.

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Vespucci answered.

  “And when this is done, I give my solemn oath, not a rock will stand unturned in my efforts to hunt these creatures down and scratch their very essence from the earth.”

  “No more fitting end could be warranted. But now, it is my painful duty to remind you that time is of the essence. You have the three keys in your possession. Let us not hesitate. We must head to the Temple of Poseidon and recover the trident. Only then will your kingdom finally be secure.”

  “But the Hall passed outside the Void long ago. It’s impossible to reach.”

  At that, Vespucci leaned in. “Not so, my lord. In fact, I have learned how a small party of men might pass between the two boundaries unscathed. But only if I lead them.”

  “You?” King Atlas said.

  “It appears my predecessor was correct about one thing. The long-rumored savior of your kingdom did come from the realm above. What he got incorrect was his identity.”

  “You?” the king asked again.

  Vespucci shrugged. “I am as surprised as you are, my liege, but I understand the gravity of my role and assure you I am up to the task.”

  The king was far less confident. In his heart, he knew this man was craven, and yet hadn’t he returned with the third key?

  Behind him, Dion glowered, his own face reflecting the torment and loss the king himself felt. Should he give the order, Dion would rip the man limb from limb. But where would that leave them? They knew too few details of the slaves’ quest. They couldn’t even read their words. Their ancestors had robbed them of that. Now, they were beholden to this interloper, and unlike Columbus, the king had no idea what price he would command.

  “The ancients warned any who dared violate Poseidon’s Temple would wake the Immortal Guards,” King Atlas said.

  “All but one,” Vespucci replied.

  Dion motioned to King Atlas, his hands moving sharp and concise.

  This man speaks heresy. We have always known not to meddle with the Gods.

  “That was before the Gods took half my kingdom!” King Atlas bellowed as he stood. “Look out there and tell me what you see! The ocean’s afire. The heavens crashing down. The mountains to the east have already been swallowed by the Void. What would you have me do? Sit on my throne while our world whittles away to nothing?”

  But to join leagues with them? It is a devil’s bargain.

  “He offers sanctuary,” the king said.

  It is not his to give. Nor the trident. My King, you executed the adventurer for pursuing this very prize. Even his girl-child admits it is a weapon. Should we risk our realm and the one above on the word of an interloper?

  King Atlas grit his teeth in turmoil. “What should I care for other realms if it means sitting by while mine is destroyed? I have already lost my wife and children protecting Atlantis. I will not lose it too.” He looked to Vespucci. “You will have your party.” The king snapped his finger toward a runner. “Have six eldocks readied, mine among them.”

  Dion turned for the door. King Atlas held a hand up.

  “Not this time, my friend,” he said. “Our city needs one of strength to remain behind, and there is no one I trust more in my stead than you. Should we fail in this task—or should I fall—it will be up to you to decide Atlantis’s future, however short that future might be. Do you understand?”

  Dion nodded gravely. King Atlas’s anger faded, allowing his sorrow to slip through. He clutched the giant’s thick arm. “But know this. No matter the outcome, the old debt is paid. Though my children might have passed the gates of Elysium, their city—our city—still stands. It would bring me comfort knowing your booming laugh might once again fill these halls tomorrow and many more days to come.”

  Dion’s eyes welled as he nodded.

  Kin
g Atlas looked over his remaining Gadeir. “To the Temple of Poseidon.” He strode for the door, Vespucci, and the others falling in behind him. As he turned the corner, the king glanced back at Dion, knowing in his heart it was the last time he would ever see him.

  On the shore outside the Craw’s entrance, Columbus looked out over the sea. The molten glow beneath the waters meant the fabric of this world was unravelling. With every minor rumble, Atlantis ushered closer to oblivion.

  “Where are you?” Columbus whispered.

  “Most likely he’s returned to the city by now,” Elara answered. She sat in the sand and rubbed her head where Vespucci had struck her. “Probably trying to convince my father to set out for the temple.”

  Vespucci had taken both eldocks from the beach. Or maybe he’d removed the bridle from Elara’s, allowing it to swim free. Either way, they were stuck and had no way to get word to her people. Still, that wasn’t what Columbus had been asking. He was thinking about the spotted eldock. The creature had communicated with him since the moment he’d arrived, aided him through every danger. But now, when he needed him most, that voice and presence were absent. It frightened Columbus.

  “There has to be another way off this island. Maybe if we asked the sirens—”

  “Did you not see the look in their eyes when we left? They aided us because Poseidon willed it, but if this quest fails, I don’t believe for a second they won’t kill us if freed to do their own bidding.”

  Columbus plopped down next to her in the sand.

  “I suppose there is one small comfort to having a front seat to the end of the world – I get to share it with the prettiest girl here.”

  Slowly, she laid her head upon his shoulder. “You know, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. When you weren’t trying to get me in your bed, that is.”

  “Princess, I would have gladly settled for your bed. Or any bed for that matter.”