Christopher Columbus and the Lost City of Atlantis

by E. J. Robinson

  “Is this another test, Star Rider?” King Atlas spat toward Vespucci. “And if so, how do we pass?”

  “We use the t-third key,” Vespucci stuttered.

  “I know that, you fool! But where do I put it?”

  They stood before a pedestal with three keyholes, each showing the corresponding images of a book, a snake eating its tail, and an egg. Vespucci looked like a half-wit trying to decide which keyhole to use. He knew the king would probably kill him if he didn’t act fast, but he knew he’d also be killed if he chose incorrectly. He was sweating, stymied. The trident was mere feet away. He could feel the power rippling off it, enough to make him a god himself. All he needed to do was solve this final riddle. He held the third key over the central keyhole, about to slide it in when a voice spoke behind him.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  King Atlas and his party whistled around as Columbus appeared out of the dark.

  “Columbus?” King Atlas gaped. “But I saw you die.”

  “We saw him pass through the Void, Father,” Elara said as she appeared. “And now we all have.”

  “Elara,” the king uttered, crossing the room in an instant and pulling her into his arms. “I thought I lost you. I was told…”

  “Let me guess,” Columbus said. “Vespucci said he retrieved the third key from the sirens but watched Elara die in the process?”

  Everyone turned to glare at Vespucci, who shrugged meekly.

  “Columbus won the key,” Elara said. “This man took it from us and left us for dead.”

  The ring of King Atlas’s sword being drawn from its scabbard filled the chamber.

  “His lies end here.”

  “Wait!” Vespucci said. He held up the third key, poised to throw it into the pool. “Come a step closer and the quest ends here.”

  “The key will dry,” Columbus said, stepping forward. “Your blood, however—”

  “Stop,” King Atlas said, arm extended. “The water is enchanted. Phemaph tried to cross it and was crushed as the water engulfed him.”

  Vespucci grinned. “Just like your city will be crushed unless Columbus solves the last riddle.”

  “What riddle?” Nyx said.

  “Three keyholes, three symbols. Unfortunately, I have but one key left. I would try them all, but you see these words here? Of three, only one may pass. Do you know the answer?”

  “Give me the key, Vespucci,” Columbus said. “Let’s end this.”

  “Do you know what it means?” he shrieked.

  “Yes.”

  Vespucci scoffed. “No, I see the gears working. And I know your methods. Make a few quips, stall for time, and you’ll distract your target long enough to make a move. But you won’t fool me this time. I hold all the cards. Now, tell me the answer to the riddle, and I give you my word, all of you will live. With some luck, Atlantis will survive, and you and your friends can rot down here for another two thousand years.”

  “Fine,” Columbus said. “‘Of three, only one may pass’ might be written in Greek, but the original version was first seen in Egyptian hieroglyphics, a subset of pre-African proto-literate recovered at Abydos.”

  Nyx’s face twisted in confusion.

  “Go on,” Vespucci snarled.

  “Well, loosely translated it means…” What followed were a series of grunts and clicks that troubled Vespucci, though he wasn’t sure why.

  Vespucci said. “What? What is that?”

  “Pygmy. The language, anyway. As for specifics, it means, ‘Aim for the foot.’”

  Vespucci’s brow furrowed, but just as he grasped the meaning, two thin spears flew in from the dark, skewering his foot to the floor. Before he could scream, Columbus bounded forward and ripped the key from his hand.

  Monday and Tuesday appeared from behind.

  “Did you see my throw?” Monday asked. “A perfect strike.”

  “I hit his little toe,” Tuesday mused. “A much smaller target.”

  “What about me?” Columbus prompted. “as if anyone could decipher hieroglyphics!”

  King Atlas strode up to the whimpering Vespucci, lifting his sword into the air. Columbus grabbed his arm.

  “As much as I appreciate the immediacy of Atlantean justice, I will need every available seaman if I’m to make it home. Even this one. But I promise, Your Highness, a sword is no match for the shame this one will suffer when news of his failures reaches our king’s ears.”

  King Atlas re-sheathed his sword. “He’s yours, then.”

  Elara appeared next to Columbus. “Quick thinking. But I assume you have a real translation?”

  “Actually no. Afraid I’m rather riddled out. The obvious choice between the three is the book since it represents you, his children. But suffice to say, you’ve been a bit of a disappointment. Enslaving his favorite water horses and driving the sirens from the sky.”

  “So, one of those is more fitting?” Elara asked.

  “Well, the eldocks have been more helpful, but I don’t think that’s the point.” And to everyone’s surprise, he turned to Nyx. “Do you?”

  “No,” she said. The answer was so unlike her. Columbus could see she’d thought of something.

  “It’s seems I’ve been remiss in recognizing your many talents, Nyx. And I feel like you might have an idea brewing in the little peanut of yours. Care to enlighten us?”

  “Well, Vespucci translated this as of three, only one may pass, but this doesn’t mean ‘one.’ It can mean single, but in this case, I think it means ‘unified.”

  Columbus nodded. Of course. “Of three, only together may they pass.”

  “The other keys!” Elara said. “We have to go back for them.”

  “Don’t bother,” Nyx said. “Columbus has them.”

  Elara looked at Columbus askew.

  Columbus looked at Nyx the same way. “How’d you see that? You were ahead of me.”

  “I didn’t see it. I just know you.”

  With a smirk, Columbus pulled the two gem-encrusted keys from his shirt. Elara took one and handed a second to her father, leaving Columbus with the third.

  “We turn together,” Elara said.

  They inserted the keys. Elara gave a countdown and they turned the keys simultaneously. For a second, nothing happened. And then the floor began to shake. The keys glowed hot. The water of the pool began to rise, moving up into a curtain of water, almost as terrifying as the Void itself. Everyone stumbled back, expecting the water to release on top of them at any time. And then all at once it disappeared, leaving a path forward.

  “After you,” Columbus said.

  King Atlas and Elara led the way. Once they were gone, Columbus tried to remove the keys for a second time. They didn’t give. He cursed. It was a shame. They would have been worth a fortune.

  The tunnel continued for another twenty feet until it opened into a modest, circular room whose stones glowed with a magical light. Looking up, Elara gaped in wonder. The oval ceiling high above shone down like a window to the heavens.

  “You wanted to see the stars,” Columbus said.

  Elara giggled into her hand as her eyes welled.

  As they pushed deeper into the room, more statues emerged. These were smaller than those in the first few chambers, but they were still larger than the living. The silhouettes were human with individual characteristics and weapons. Even the faces were distinct. The women ranged from stately to beautiful. The men from handsome to imposing. They all shared one distinct characteristic: they were crafted from solid gold.

  “Poseidon’s immortals,” Elara said.

  “They’re so lifelike,” Nyx said. “It’s almost as if—”

  Columbus finished her thought. “Something turned them to gold.”

  A limping Vespucci watched, mesmerized.

  “Is it possible?” King Atlas asked. He stood near a towering male statue, inspecting the two golden orbs in its hand. “Do you know whose likeness this is?”

  “He holds
the world in his hands,” Elara said. “It must be Atlas, our ancestor!”

  “No, dear daughter. These aren’t the earth. They are the sun and moon, which makes this fellow far older than the ruler of Gaia. This is Hyperion, one of the original Titans.”

  “Who?” Fanucio asked.

  “The Titans were the second generation of Greek deities,” Nyx answered. “They ruled the Golden Age before being overthrown by the Olympians in the Titanomachy. That’s what they called the war of the Titans.”

  King Atlas moved onto a second statue. “Legend told of them being imprisoned in Tartarus for all eternity. What are they doing here?”

  “What’s Tartarus?” Columbus asked.

  “The deepest, darkest part of the underworld. Where evil suffers. Could this really be them?”

  “There are twelve,” Elara said. “And this one has the winged brow of Tethys. And here. Her mount is a lion, as Rhea is known for.”

  King Atlas walked through their ranks. “Oceanus, Theia, Phoebe, Cronos…They’re all here. Poseidon’s immortals are his greatest enemies.”

  “And his family,” Elara said pointedly.

  “A testament to giving one’s children too much free rein.”

  Elara looked askew at her father. Only then did she notice Columbus moving past the Titans.

  “Columbus?”

  The others took notice and followed. Still, none could be ready for what waited ahead.

  On a raised dais sat a golden ark with red satin bedding. Nestled within lay the golden trident of Poseidon. Six feet long with three barbed tines and a shimmering round pommel that glowed with the energy of the Gods.

  “I can feel it,” Columbus said, “pulsing in time with my heart.”

  He didn’t realize he was reaching for it until Elara stopped him.

  “Remember, this is a tool of the Gods. The Athenians warned that claiming it would awaken the guardians.”

  “For all but one. The Anak-Ta Eleece. Which you’ve kindly pointed out many times is moi.”

  “Please,” King Atlas said, stepping forward. “If any should claim it, it should be me. It is my legacy.”

  “Here we go,” Fanucio muttered.

  The pair continued to argue, their voices growing louder in the stone sepulcher. They were so preoccupied that no one noticed Vespucci rush past them.

  “Look out!” Nyx said.

  Vespucci launched himself for the trident, but Elara tripped him at the last moment. Two Gadeir corralled him.

  “It’s mine,” Vespucci moaned. “It was meant to be mine.”

  “I’m sure we can find a set of irons to your liking,” Fanucio said.

  Pulling Vespucci back, only Columbus, Elara, King Atlas, and Nyx were left at the foot of the trident, each within reach.

  “The draw is strong,” King Atlas said.

  “It is a test of will,” Elara added. “Poseidon’s final act to prove our worthiness.”

  “I can feel it too,” Nyx said. “Calling me.”

  “It calls to us all,” Elara said before turning to Columbus. “But only one may lay claim to it.”

  Columbus stared at that golden pommel. The power to transmute anything into gold.

  “The eldock said only one true of heart could take it.”

  “Which should rule you out,” Nyx said.

  “Hey. I was surprised myself.”

  His hand reached out, stopping a few inches away. Why was he hesitating? This was what he always wanted. The power to decide his own fate. Enough wealth to make him a king himself. So, why couldn’t he take it? It wasn’t fear—though there was surely a modicum of that. He kept thinking about the Atlanteans. Their kingdom was in ruins. Would taking the trident make him responsible for them?

  “Take it,” Vespucci growled from the floor behind him. “Only a fool would stare fate in the face and hesitate. You can feel the power! Take it!”

  “Only a king should wield such a gift,” Atlas said.

  Elara saw the look of desire in her father’s face. She’d seen it before, but in this golden light, it looked twisted, pained. His chest was heaving, perspiration wetting his pate.

  “Father don’t—”

  “If Atlantis can be saved by this, it is my right.”

  She was about to warn him again. Then King Atlas’s hand reached out and picked up the trident. The room instantly filled with a blinding light. Elara shouted as her father stumbled back, his body glowing as power coursed through him. His arm rippled as it grew distended, larger.

  The walls shook. Plaster crumbled down from above.

  When the King spoke again, his voice was deeper, foreign. “The fire surges within me! The power of a God beckons!”

  King Atlas’s shoulders began to widen, his compact frame expanding, growing taller, muscles stretching. His shadow rose as the lamps flickered.

  “Get it away from him!” Nyx shouted.

  One of the Atlantean guards ran toward the king. The trident swung around, the pommel slammed into the man’s gut. He flew across the room and struck the wall, screaming as a shimmer ran up his body. Within a few seconds, he had turned to gold.

  “The transmutation,” Columbus whispered, “it’s real.”

  Another female guard fired a stun blow at the king. It bounced off him. He turned, snarling, and aimed the tines of the trident toward the woman, unleashing a blast of holy fire that instantly incinerated her in a wisp of smoke. Elara screamed. Columbus dragged Nyx back as the king blasted two more of his guards, tearing the stones of the floor as if they were paper.

  The king’s armor split and fell off his body as he continued to expand, until he towered over them all.

  “Father!” Elara screamed. “You put Atlantis in peril!”

  “Only I can save my kingdom!”

  The king bounded over the Titans, his massive feet crushing the stones where he landed. He shouldered through the pathway, crushing it open as he ran from the room and disappeared.

  Columbus helped Elara to her feet. “Are you all right?”

  She shook her head. “We have to go after him. Find a way to reason with him.”

  “I’m afraid we’ve got bigger problems,” Fanucio said.

  He was looking behind them. The nearest Titan’s golden skin was cracking and shedding, revealing a paler hue beneath. Everyone in the room watched with dread, realizing the worst of the Fates’ prophecies was about to come true.

  The Titans were waking.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “We need to go,” Columbus said, backing for the stairs. “Now!”

  As the Titans stirred from their endless slumber, a surge of energy filled the room. Nyx felt the hairs on her arms stand up, and her teeth rattled. She felt nauseous. She heard a crack and glanced back just as she was exiting the room. One of the Titan’s mighty arms had broken free and was stretching out, the gold flaking off it like dust.

  The group ran through the debris left in the tunnel in King Atlas’s wake, working together to shove one giant slab from their path. When they reached the shelf with the three keys, Elara tugged at each of them, hoping it might restart the water barrier. Her efforts proved futile.

  Just then a piercing wail resounded from the sepulcher, freezing Elara mid-step. Columbus grabbed her and pulled her after the others as more unearthly cries joined in.

  King Atlas had crushed his way up the hidden stairwell, toppling the statue of Poseidon. As each of the survivors emerged, they saw the mad king had also broken open the two mighty doors at the temple’s entrance. Only the magic preserving it prevented the ocean from storming in.

  As the group sped through the Hall of Elders, the entire building shook violently. This was no earthquake. Two pillars cracked and toppled over. Half the ancient fresco fell, nearly crushing Vespucci as he limped behind the others.

  “Once the Titans are free of the sepulcher, they’ll head for Atlantis,” Columbus said.

  “How do you know?” Elara asked.

  “Poseido
n put them here for a reason. They’re his final proclamation. His promise of doom. I’m sorry I failed you, Princess.”

  “You didn’t fail me. And this isn’t over yet.”

  In the pool room, the eldocks bucked furiously in the water, held from retreat by the thin bridle that covered their heads. Stones splashed in the water as the group mounted their eldocks and secured their masks as quickly as possible.

  “We have to find my father,” Elara said. “Try reasoning with him.”

  “Reason with a mad king?” Fanucio said. “I’m no history expert, but even I know that never ends well.”

  “For once, I agree with the fool,” Vespucci said. “Your father has been corrupted by the trident’s power. Even if you were able to wrest it from him, you would still have the Titans to deal with.”

  “If you believe I will abandon my people now, you are the fool!”

  “Atlantis is gone, Highness. Our only chance at survival is to ride these beasts to the surface. With luck, one of our ships might remain.”

  “You are such a coward! If I had the time, I would cut you down without a single—”

  “He’s right,” Columbus said.

  Elara turned in shock. “What?”

  “I said, he’s right. I’m sorry, Princess, but there’s nothing more that can be done. If the Void doesn’t destroy Atlantis, your father or the Titans surely will.”

  Elara’s face twisted with pain. “You would leave me? After all that’s happened?”

  “We’ve done all we can. It’s time to face facts. Atlantis is doomed, but we don’t have to die with it. Come with me and I’ll show you a realm filled with more beauty than you can imagine. We could find a small corner of the world where there are no wars, no Gods to appease, where the stars come out every night to fill you with hope.”