by Pelaam
Not that it bothered Aurora; she rarely donned cosmetics, especially when acting as a ship’s captain. Although appearing before a king and queen I would have preferred to look a little better.
The sound of running water caught her attention, and she wandered through into the next room. It was a bathroom, but one the likes of which she’d never seen.
Hot water poured like a waterfall from the stone wall into a large, sunken bath, the size of which Aurora was certain could have comfortably taken three or four people. At the opposite end of the pool, the excess water poured through a grill, ensuring it never over-filled. There were towels and flannels, and what Aurora took to be soap. She picked it up and sniffed it cautiously before she peeled off her jacket.
A sudden thought struck her, and she dashed back into the bedroom. Sure enough, there was clothing on the bed. Aurora held it up. They already knew. This is a dress, not that tunic like Lalia wore. They already knew a woman was going to be in here before we arrived. A chill ran down Aurora’s spine. Snatching up the dress, she returned to the bathroom.
Stripping quickly, she made sure to lay out all of her own clothing in the hopes of getting it to dry quickly before carefully stepping down into the sunken bath.
The water was a perfect temperature and Aurora let its comforting heat permeate her body. But even as she relished the feeling of warmth, her thoughts turned to Midnight. Her brother was always so full of life, to have seen him so still, so sick, had almost broken her heart. Then she sat up. I need to speak with Voltaire. There’s something about this place that just doesn’t feel right. Pointless discussing anything with Dryden, he’ll just write that off as me being a hysterical woman.
Her mind made up, Aurora hurriedly washed herself down with the soap and flannel, and since she was unable to do anything else with her hair, without working the same soap into it simply ducked under the water so that the clean water rinsed out the salt. Perhaps this is why they wear bejewelled wigs. There’s only the one type of soap to wash with.
Climbing out of the bath with care, Aurora dried herself and donned the colourfully patterned dress. She stared down at herself. The dress could be pulled tight or let out depending on the woman wearing it. Aurora tugged here and there to allow it to flow around her but hated the way it constricted her movements at the ankle.
“Well, nothing else for it. I shan’t be hobbled.” Sitting on the edge of the bath, Aurora took hold of the material. She gave a self-satisfied smirk as the material tore easily. Aurora took the slit as high as her knees. “Let’s see how they deal with that.”
Tugging at the dress as she stomped toward her door, Aurora grumbled under her breath every step of the way. She flung the door open to discover Voltaire outside, hand raised ready to knock. She glanced down his body and couldn’t stop a giggle breaking free. He wore a tunic much like Lalia’s, which only reached to his knees, displaying shapely, if furry, legs.
“Not my best feature, I assure you.” Voltaire offered a self-depreciating smile.
“Oh, believe me. I’ve seen worse.” Aurora’s mind went to Midnight’s skinny legs and her smile faded.
“I don’t like this place. May we go into your room? I don’t want to be outside, either.”
“Are you certain you should be alone in my room?” Voltaire asked. “You’ll be unchaperoned.”
“Oh, good grief, man, that doesn’t bother me. And I-I feel I can trust you. That you won’t laugh at me or dismiss me.”
“Of course not. Come on then. We’d best hurry. A guard watched me all the way here. I think so long as we make no attempt to go elsewhere, this is permissible.” Voltaire led the way back to his suite and allowed Aurora to enter first. As he shut the door, she sat in one of the chairs. Voltaire came to sit opposite her.
“What about this place don’t you like? And why would you think I’d laugh at you?”
“I get…I don’t know what you’d call them other than feelings, impressions, about places and people. Not all the time. But this palace, it feels wrong. I can’t be more specific. The servant who showed us here. She was terrified, for us, if we spoke out against the rulers here. And they already knew about us here. Before we arrived. They had appropriate clothing for us.” Aurora tugged at her dress and waved at Voltaire.
“Yes. I did notice that.” Voltaire’s lips twisted as he looked down at his tunic. “And I agree that there’s a definite atmosphere here.” He sat back. “Lalia introduced Atlantis as if it were thriving down here. Yet, that seems far from the truth. However, they don’t appear to be making any attempt to return to the surface.”
“What about this weapon?” Aurora leaned forward, lowering her voice. “And the man you were chasing.”
“Ferdinand.” Voltaire nodded slowly. “Somehow, I cannot see him as having met his end at the hands, or rather tentacles, of some sea beast or other. The ship wasn’t so severely damaged. Almost as if—”
A loud rap at the door startled Aurora and she jumped to her feet. Voltaire held up his hand and strode quickly across the room.
“Yes, who’s there?” He listened for a moment then opened the door. “Thank you.” He accepted a tray, setting on a table beside the door. “Oh, I’ll take that. She’s probably in the bath.” He waited for the door to be closed behind him, then turned and held up the tray. “This is yours. The servant got no answer and have been told they can’t enter without permission.”
“That’s something at least.” Aurora allowed herself to relax a fraction. “What is it?”
“Strips of what I think are fish, some grapes, and water.” Voltaire set it beside Aurora. “I guess beggars, or even uninvited guests, can’t be choosers. I’ll get my tray. Once we’ve had this light refreshment, I suggest we go for a walk. After all, we have no way to contact our benefactors, and you want to know your brother’s whereabouts and status. We were looking for a guard to ask.”
“Thank you, Voltaire. And thank you for not regarding me as some hysterical female.”
“I think of you in many ways, Aurora.” Voltaire looked up and gazed directly into Aurora’s eyes. “But I assure you, a helpless female is not one of them.”
Unsure how to react to Voltaire’s comment, Aurora took a bite of the fish. It was bland but slid down easily enough. Before she realised it, she’d finished the plate, and washed the food down with the water.
“Right,” she stood up. “Let’s go.”
“Lead on, my Captain.” Voltaire was smiling at her, but the warmth in his eyes assured Aurora that he wasn’t mocking her.
With a nod, Aurora led the way. I have a good memory for direction. She hesitated at a crossroads of corridors and pointed to the one on the right.
“We were brought that way. So, either straight ahead, or left.”
“I’ll follow whichever way you choose.” Voltaire looked at the options. “Neither give anything away, so to speak.
“Then let’s go left.” Aurora infused her voice with a certainty she didn’t entirely feel. The corridor was dim, lightening kept to a minimum. Ahead, Aurora could see a brighter light and sped up her speed. As she emerged, Voltaire a step behind them, she was greeted by two guards, their axes raised.
Chapter 10
With a deep groan, Midnight slowly opened his eyes, surprised to find just how difficult such an easy task proved to be. In fact, his entire body ached, as well as there being a strength-sapping feeling of lethargy.
There was a blurred figure looking down at him, which slowly resolved into Tresilian, who smiled down on him. Returning the smile, Midnight tried to look around, groaning as a wave of dizziness crashed over him.”
“Take it easy, Midnight. You’ve been through a lot.” Tresilian squeezed Midnight’s hand, and he gave a tiny nod, not even having been aware his hand had been clasped in Tresilian’s.
“Wha…what happened?” The dry croak that came from his throat shocked Midnight, and he became slowly aware of just how parched he was. He gratefully sipped at a goblet o
f cold water that Tresilian quickly held to his lips.
“Don’t take too much, I don’t want you sick just as you seem to be recovering.” Tresilian pushed some of Midnight’s hair away from his face before taking hold of his hand once more.
“I won’t.” Midnight sighed as the dry sensation in his mouth and throat eased.
“You were stung by the polymus. You were fortunate. I’ve been told by the physician here that few survive its venom—”
“It didn’t give you too many stings which probably saved your life.” A disembodied voice, clipped, and heavily accented, cut into Tresilian’s explanation.
“Really?” Midnight looked at the newcomer who peered at him over Tresilian’s shoulder and a thrill of apprehension skittered down his spine. However, at Tresilian’s gentle squeeze of his hand, Midnight settled.
With their deathly pale skin, taut over a skeletal skull, and red and black beads replacing their hair, Midnight wasn’t certain if he was facing a man or a woman. They stared down at him with pale eyes as cold and devoid of emotion as chips of turquoise.
“Midnight, this is the Court Physician. We’re in the palace of the city of Atlantis. She’s responsible for your recovery.” Tresilian kept his voice soft, and gave Midnight’s hand another squeeze, and Midnight decided he was being warned.
“Oh, I see. Um, I’m very honoured.”
“You’re not well enough to feel honoured.” The physician’s laugh was dry, and it displayed her gem-encrusted teeth. “But I appreciate your politeness. I am Merit-Ptah, Swnwt to the imperial Nisut-bity and Princeps of Atlantis.”
“Atlantis.” Midnight echoed, wondering if he was dreaming, or hallucinating. “Um…delighted to meet you. Midnight Pendragon, at your service, madam.” He glanced at Tresilian.
“I prefer to be referred to as Swnwt or physician. Pronoun, they or them.”
“Yes, um, sewnewt? Is that the right way to say it?”
“It will suffice.” Merit-Ptah nodded, then wrote in the book they carried.
“Have you been here all the time?” Midnight asked, gazing at Tresilian and seeing just how tired the other man looked.
“As much as I could be.” Tresilian nodded and began to ease the grip on Midnight’s hand.
With a slight shake of his head, Midnight immediately tightened his own, and Tresilian cocked an eyebrow before resuming the same firm grip as previously. Midnight sighed and smiled.
“Thank you. My sister Aurora, and the others, are they all right? I don’t remember much. Something hit me.”
“A tentacle.” Tresilian supplied. “Yes, they all made it and are here, somewhere.”
“They have suites in the guests’ wing, as you will. If you need two, that is. Try not to exhaust him. He will be weak for a few days. I shall report on your health and check on you later.” Merit-Ptah swept away in a swirl of golden material.
Midnight waited for them to disappear, then looked up at Tresilian.
“You don’t trust…um…them.”
“Not entirely.” Tresilian shook his head. “It’s always better to reserve judgement in situations like this. And, so you know, Merit-Ptah gave me a pedigree while we waited for you to recover consciousness. They always prefer to use full names, so don’t think they’re just being overly formal. One thing, though,” Tresilian nodded in the direction of the door. “They seemed surprised that you weren’t stung worse.”
“He could have but stopped.” Midnight shook his head. “He was angry and hurting, I felt it.”
“What?” Tresilian asked, his face creasing into a puzzled frown.
“The polymus.” Midnight coughed. “I don’t normally speak of it outside my family; you’ll probably think me mad.”
“Speak of what? Midnight, if you don’t speak clearly to me, I’ll think you’re delirious again.”
“I have an…affinity with animals. When the polymus grabbed me, I saw his eye. He could have wrapped more of his tentacle around me but was already starting to release me when you cut me free. I think he realised I sensed what he felt.”
“He?” Tresilian cocked his head.
“Yes, most assuredly, he.” Midnight nodded, then groaned as another wave of dizziness rolled over him. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he opened them to look directly into Tresilian’s eyes. “You do believe me?”
“Yes. I believe you.” Tresilian nodded. “I find it hard to fathom, but I believe you.”
“Thank you.” Midnight smiled, then something Merit-Ptah had said struck him. “What did, um, they mean by if we need two?” He followed Tresilian’s gaze to where their fingers were still tightly entwined. “Oh, I see. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Tresilian smirked. “I wouldn’t mind. Now, I suggest you settle down, I’ll take a minute to stretch my legs while she’s gone and be back before you know it.”
“Oh…um…yes, all right.” Midnight wriggled to make sure he was comfortable, then Tresilian’s words struck home and he sat up a little to stare after the big man’s retreating back before laying back down with a smile.
Then he frowned and lifted the sheet covering him. I’m naked. Did Tresilian undress me? A flush of embarrassment heated him from toes to scalp. Well, if he did, he already knows me a great deal more intimately than I know him.
Chapter 11
Before Aurora could speak, Voltaire eased himself casually in front of her. He’s trying to shield me. The gentlemanly gesture touched Aurora, but she was ready to stand her own ground.
Then a voice rang out, recognisable despite its shrillness.
“What are you doing here?” Lalia came into view, her face creased into a frown. “This area is off limits. Were you not told to remain in your rooms?”
“We weren’t to know.” Voltaire replied, turning a circle, his hands up. He winked as he made eye contact with Aurora. “One part looks like another to us. Anyway, although we were told we had to stay in our rooms, Aurora is distraught with worry over her brother. I ask you, as a gentleman what else could I do, when approached by a damsel in distress, other than answer her call? We’d seen your guards and thought to ask one if she could be taken to see him.”
Aurora picked up on his intent immediately and peered around him as if too nervous to step forward, rubbing at her eyes as if she’d been crying.
“I told you I was worried about my brother. I’ve had no update on how he is. I asked Voltaire to accompany me to find him.” Aurora added a quaver to her voice, as if on the verge of bursting into tears and Lalia curled her lip, as if scorning the emotional outburst, before forcing the sneer into a smile.
“Yes, of course. I do understand. I shall walk you back to your suites and will contact our physician to see if they can update us on his condition. I can assure you that they were greatly confident about his recovery, although it could take some time.”
“I would be so grateful.” Aurora hoped she didn’t sound too gushing, but Lalia nodded, her expression fixed into the smile that didn’t reach her eyes, as she strode past.
“This way, please.”
With a rueful glance at Voltaire, Aurora dutifully fell in behind Lalia, with Voltaire at the rear. A few minutes later, Lalia indicated their respective suites.
“Wait here. You’ll be called for presently as our Nisut-bity and Princeps wish to formally welcome you to our city. There will be a banquet in your honour later.”
“Banquet, eh? Sounds marvellous. We’re most grateful to you, Lalia.” Voltaire waved from his doorway. “As soon as you hear about Midnight, do please update us all, Aurora. We’re all most concerned for him.”
“You are most welcome as our guests, it’s our honour to care for you.” Lalia flashed her teeth at Voltaire, then glared at Aurora. “Do remain here.”
“Yes. I will. I promise.” With a final, fake smile for Lalia, Aurora shut her door, leaned on it, and clenched her hands into fists, her fury bubbling close to the surface. “Oh, that witch.” Aurora paced the floor, hoping to work off her anger.
Two full hours passed without word from Lalia, by which time Aurora was ready to scream, when there was a rap at her door.
“At last.” She dashed over to open it, but Lalia wasn’t alone. She’d gathered the rest of her group and stood with her practised glacial smile curling her lips.
“Our Nisut-bity and Princeps are ready to receive and welcome you to our city. Follow me.”
“My brother.” Aurora remained where she was, her hands on her hips, and glared at Lalia. “You said you’d bring me news of him.”
“The Nisut-bity decided to do that personally. It’s a great honour. Follow me.” Lalia didn’t wait for a reply and walked away.
“Do please walk with me, Aurora.” Voltaire was at her door in a couple of strides, and Aurora then glared at him.
“I swear. I’m going to punch that woman.”
“Perhaps so.” Voltaire inclined his head, his voice soft. “But not right now.”
With a laugh that was part huff of frustration, Aurora slid her arm through Voltaire’s and walked at his side. From her quick glance at the group, they were all dressed similarly to her and Voltaire; a long, sheath-like dress for Drusilla, and shorter, toga-style tunics for the men, along with the sandals. He’s right, of course. I can’t do anything until I know what’s happening with Midnight.
They were led into a grand reception room. Ornate pillars with a swirling pattern carved into them rose from floor to ceiling and were decorated with shells and jewels. The floor was fully mosaic, and the walls painted to appear as if they were surrounded by the sea, complete with sea creatures, merfolk, and what Aurora assumed with various sea deities.
Ahead of them were two figures seated on grand thrones. The back of each throne was a giant clam shell, painted in gold and adorned with more precious stones. The moment Lalia passed through the doors, two muscular men, wearing nothing but loincloths blew into conch shells to herald their arrival.
