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Atlantis: City of Mages

Page 12

by M. Arcturus


  Shadow had a small glimmer of laughter in his eyes. “You never rest, do you? However, I’m afraid that if you don’t give us a good reason to let you go back, you’ll be staying right here with us.”

  Seth agreed, but studied the urgency in her face.

  “I’m on palace arrest. I could get into big trouble if they discover I’m not there. Juron doesn’t know that you and Seth were a part of the ship fiasco. On top of that, Kajaka, Pandora, and I will be put on trial before the Council tomorrow morning.”

  “What about Juron? Doesn’t he have anything to answer for?” Seth asked with sarcasm.

  “He is treading very close to the edge of defeat by exposing you in front of the Council. They may question him, too,” added Shadow.

  “Not if he denies having anything to do with the shipment. It’s his word against ours, and we don’t have the hard evidence to prove our side of the story. He has the palace guards to testify in his favor. They are the ones imprisoning us, and most of them seem to be on his side.”

  “I doubt if he has all of their support. It’s only the Secret Guard that answers his every beck and call. The regular guards seem to have a mind of their own. You need hard proof, huh? I’m sure I can find something,” Seth said, to which Shadow raised an eyebrow out of intrigue.

  “I can see what can be done to manipulate the situation for Juron to be questioned himself. I sent a message to Avalon, where I’m sure we’ll receive some much-unexpected help,” said Shadow slightly giddy with his new understanding of the situation.

  Selené tried to stand up, but she fell back into the sand as her shaky legs gave out. Shadow looked at her in shock, but was quick in helping her up.

  “How did you get here?” asked Seth as his snake-like eyes narrowed out of inquiry.

  “I jumped from my bedroom window.”

  Selené didn’t make a big deal out of it, but she still looked down at the ground when they stared at her in disbelief. And in case she was telling the truth, there was a bit of anger in their eyes, too.

  “Not that I like the visual of you jumping out of your window, but it is strange that you were sent to your quarters while Kajaka and Pandora were imprisoned.” Shadow sat there in thought for a while.

  Selené was completely confused. “They’re imprisoned!?! I don’t understand.” Then it sunk in. When Seth said they were locked up, he meant they were really locked up—not just confined to their quarters. Neither one could insert a word before she added, “I think I know why.” Both Seth and Shadow looked at her questioningly. “There are two reasons that I can think of as to why he would do that. First, I didn’t injure any of the ship’s crew or physically try to steal the cargo. Since I didn’t do either of those things, he couldn’t imprison me. Secondly, maybe he wants to blame everything on me. While they’re imprisoned, they can no longer stand in his way. He might not have any intention to release them for the Council meeting. They can’t speak up if they’re not there. I would be screwed. No one would be there to back up my side of the story. He’s trying to use me as a scapegoat!”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen now. Pandora’s father is going to hear about this. They’ll be with you during the trial.” Shadow took the shadow cloak from Selené and, with loving care, inspected it briefly. He wasn’t necessarily checking the cloak for new damage or torn spots—he was more so trying to formulate an idea. “You’re right; I did go unnoticed. Because as I think about it, I was surrounded by pirates. Not a single one of them was a guard who could have identified me. That was a streak of luck. However, I doubt if we’ll be that lucky again. Seth and I need to stay out of the lime light, and well out of Juron’s grasp,” Shadow added as he furrowed his brow in thought. Finally, when the idea hit, he turned to Selené, “I’ll take you back to your chamber. From there, we will need you to snoop around. Somewhere in the palace they have a young girl in captivity. You are to find her and see what you can learn from her.”

  “—but isn’t she The Destroyer?”

  “Kajaka and I have known her for a very long time. It’s a long story—just know that not everything is as it seems.” Shadow brushed off Selené’s concern and turned to Seth, “Seth, I’m assuming that you’re headed off to the palace as well?”

  Seth gave a slight nod in response.

  “Then you will need this; it will come in handy when looking for hard evidence to incriminate Juron.” Shadow handed the cloak over to Seth, “It will recharge itself in the moonlight, and you don’t need to return it.”

  Seth took the cloak and bowed his head in appreciation.

  “I will see what I can do to turn the tables before the trial,” Shadow said.

  There was minimal response between them as they absorbed the situation. Shadow was showing signs of weariness as he glanced from Seth to Selené. Seth was busy gearing up for confrontation, so he didn’t notice what was going on at first, but Selené had her full attention on Shadow’s every movement. Slowly he took the clip off of his cloak and stretched his wings out. That’s when the realization hit her. His cloak was a pair of wings. They were double jointed so that they would lie over his shoulders. All of those times that people wondered why they didn’t take their cloaks off, wearing the same color day in and day out, and now the question was finally answered. Just realizing Kajaka would probably have the same type of wings also answered her question as to how Kajaka boarded the ship undetected the night before.

  Selené stepped forward and lightly ran her fingers over the feathers, which gave way under her touch. The core of each feather was like that of a crow’s, but around the edges, there were long wavy strands that looked like those of a peacock’s feather. In the last rays of the sun, they revealed their purple and green sheen, depending on the angle of the grain. He looked down at her. His copper-centered turquoise eyes disclosed a calm, soothing feeling laced with amusement.

  “This is between the three of us,” Shadow said, commanding Seth and Selené’s attention and loyalty. “My breed was once hunted for their feathers. Each and every one of us has a distinct difference in our feathers. There’s not a single one of us who shares the same feather unless they are twins. Even then, it is very rare. They can be composed of different substances or could be different through minor characteristics such as color or texture. We don’t expose our wings because of shame, but out of protection. There will be a time when we can show ourselves once again for what we are, but now is not the time.”

  “Who hunted you for your feathers?” Selené asked him through concerned, teary eyes.

  “Everyone has at one time or another, including those here on

  Atlantis.”

  “I don’t remember anything about that in the palace archive. No, there’s no way. Everything is recorded.”

  “What’s in the archive that you speak of so passionately?”

  “Why, the history of Atlantis!” She replied as if that was the most bewildering, dumbfounded question ever asked.

  Shadow leaned toward her ear and whispered, “What makes you so sure that it’s happened already? We’re beyond time and space.”

  Without consciously knowing, she nodded her head in understanding. They weren’t here to live with the Atlanteans, but among them. Like Atlantis, time was irrelevant to beings like Shadow and Kajaka. Selené started to feel sick, realizing just how self-absorbed she had been in her own little world, forgetting that everyone had a unique twist to their story. She noticed it first when she was at the fishing pier observing the differences between all of the water vessels, and now it was someone who was important to her. She needed to pay more attention to the lives around her. Pulling her head out of her studies and connecting more with the Atlanteans was starting to become a necessity to her. She temporarily cringed at the thought of how closed off she was to everything around her but didn’t have much time to reflect on it, for Shadow picked her up and took to the skies. She lo
oked down at the water and curled up, taking a new hiding place in his strong arms. It didn’t suit her to be so far up in the air. She felt like a little kid, but the fear was far too real for her to allow herself to actually enjoy the moment.

  It didn’t take long for them to reach her chamber window; however, the sun had vanished below the horizon. There was no light emanating from the window, so she decided that it was safe, and left his arms, climbing in through the circular opening. They had discussed their agendas to each other on the way, but she still forgot where he was headed as he flew off. She thought about her own mission. Finding the traveler would take some time. It was almost like looking for a needle in a haystack.

  As her eyes adjusted, she looked around her quarters in the dark. It took some time, but she saw something she didn’t want to see. There on her bed was a tray of food. She had been caught outside of her quarters. Her instant reaction was to run toward the window and jump out into the waterfall below, but as she turned to go, something else caught her eye. Beside her bed she saw a pair of eyes. As she turned around slowly, she focused her eyes and took a closer look. Her worst nightmare had come true: a dark figure sat in a chair beside her bed.

  “I understand how you got out. I’m guessing that’s what you’re thinking about doing right now as I speak. How you survived, I don’t know and don’t even really care. What I’m more concerned with is how you got back in. You’re starting to be a nuisance!” Though spooked by Juron’s gruff words, Selené let out a mental sigh of relief. It was obvious that Juron did not see Shadow drop her off at the window. Juron clapped his hands together to activate the ceiling energy light. The blue glow from the light cast an eerie mood throughout the room. This was the light Selené couldn’t stand—the whole reason why she had requested track lighting and the sparkling, emerald-green cylinder lights for her quarters. She shuddered with disgust.

  The lights of the palace were based off of old alien technology and were most likely older than Mt. Caspen itself. They were orbs of pure energy. During the day, there was nothing there—no light fixture or any visual proof that a source of light was there. But if someone clapped their hands, little orbs of blue light would emerge from all parts of the room to collect near the peak of the ceiling.

  Selené may have been freaked out by the situation, but she appeared emotionless to the outside world. On the inside, she prayed for the energy light to become fully charged, so its light would become an orange-like hue to make the situation less frightening. The blue lighting made her feel very uneasy. Or was it Juron’s tone that made her skin crawl?

  The blue light faded to a greenish-yellow, which gave her more strength. “I didn’t realize that your rules of my confinement stretched beyond the palace walls,” she stated innocently.

  Juron didn’t show signs of anger. His expression remained calm. Selené reminisced, ever so briefly, about how Juron use to be the one she confided in. They used to sit up all hours of the night conversing about anything and everything. She looked at him and realized that something had changed. She didn’t completely fear him, but he seemed to have his own agenda now, which wasn’t in her best interest. His old jolly, round self appeared more gray and solemn, and his heart had hardened.

  “I would appreciate it if you would stay in your quarters and cooperate with me for the remainder of your sentence. We used to be friends, you and me. Aren’t we still the same people? Aren’t we still friends? It’s not like I enjoy pinning you down from your mystical life, but it’s necessary until the Council convenes. I’m sure they will go easy on you. You’re their favorite. Your visions have always been accurate and true. You only do what is best for the community, trying to fulfill the role of the magical dreamer, wanting to see this world grow to its fullest potential. I think you’ll be just fine. This captivity is only for tonight and into the morning hours.”

  “Has my right to roam around the palace with a guard detail been stripped from me?” She could tell that he wanted to say yes, but he gave in.

  “No, I’ll give you a second chance. You have pushed the limit, but not broken it. Yes, you still have your rights. You are free to roam if you are accompanied by the guards. Besides, I would hate to be confined to my quarters, too. Almost a full day in one room—that’s not easy to swallow.” He turned to go, “However, leave one more time unannounced, and without the guards, and I will have no choice but to confine you to your quarters. I’m sorry.” He sauntered out of the room.

  Selené eyed the tray of food on her bed. It was laid out all beautiful under the warm orange glow of the energy light. Three pieces of ham, boiled potatoes, grapes, and the famous Atlantean bean salad. She was about to eat when something deep inside of her kept her from taking the first bite. She didn’t quite know what it was, but she laid the grapes back down on the silver tray. She was still in shock. It wasn’t what he said that made her uneasy; it was how he said it. Something under the surface wasn’t right. Is that what caused her to refrain from eating? She pondered for a moment, then decided that maybe she should collect herself before she jumped to any conclusions.

  She went into her bathroom and walked to the stone sink where water constantly flowed from the head of the lion protruding from the wall. Splashing some water on her face, she looked in the mirror above the sink, wondering if Juron was someone she should truly be afraid of. Cupping her hands under the running water, she took a drink. She wasn’t sure what caused her instant dizziness, but she stumbled her way onto the cobble stone floor, and stared into nothingness, trying to catch her thoughts, which were flying away into oblivion.

  As Juron stepped out of Selené’s quarters, the guards closed the door. They took their position outside her door, reassuring him that she was not leaving. He nervously took out a handkerchief from one of the inside pockets of his robe. After wiping the sweat off of his forehead, he tucked the handkerchief back into its place. He mumbled to anyone willing to listen, “If only she were willing to cooperate. I hate having to sedate her like that.” The guards exchanged looks of confusion and worry. Juron didn’t even look at them. He only shook his head. “After she is completely under, move her into the Council room. She can join her silent friend in captivity.”

  “Sir, what if she’s still awake when we go in?”

  “Then knock her out!”

  “But Sir—”

  “I don’t care how you do it!” He noticed their shocked expressions, “Oh fine! Knock her out or don’t knock her out, either way, just get her to the Council room!” Juron slowly calmed down. He fluffed his hair and straightened his robe. There were very important people waiting to see him.

  He stepped into the main foyer. Three entrepreneurs along with their families were standing there, already very tired of waiting for him. They were the three wealthiest families in all of Atlantis and were among the rare group to live in the palace.

  “This had better be good, Juron!” snapped a tall and slender man. His green, beady eyes looked down his narrow, hook-shaped nose at Juron. Lord Cavatori was a very intimidating man. Juron did his best to hold onto his firm composure. If Cavatori sensed any waver or flinch of weakness, he would surely take his business elsewhere. The other two capitalists, Countess Salamina and Count Ciro, stood behind Cavatori as if they had elected him to speak on their behalf.

  All three wore their stately robes, which reflected their power. Salamina’s warm, flawless, mocha-colored skin was accentuated by her lavender and avocado-green robe brocaded with a floral pattern in metallic dark purple threads. Her black hair was woven in micro braids which twisted into an exquisite bun. And her petite, button nose, soft high cheekbones. And cool, calm demeanor made Juron wish he was talking with her instead of Cavatori. Ciro donned an orange and yellow robe which emphasized his olive-colored shin, unique Roman nose, tousled raven-black hair, and alluring blue eyes, but Cavatori in his blood-red robe, imbued with threads of gold, lined with green garnets and other exotic
jewels stood out most of all.

  Juron couldn’t look at Cavatori, for the man’s expression was too forceful. So, he looked at his stunningly beautiful wife, Nadia, trying to make eye contact with at least one of them. Even with her exotic features and long, dark brown hair draped elegantly over her shoulder, her bewitching hazel eyes hammered down on him making her expression was far harsher than Cavatori’s. Once again, he was forced to look back at the man. Their young daughter stood behind Nadia, peeking around her mother’s legs, quietly looking at Juron with her dark sparkling eyes. As he glanced at her; he realized that she was the only one that he could look upon and not feel like he was condemned to Hell. Unfortunately, looking at her for an extended amount of time would not seem suitable for a grown man to do in the eyes of his clients. Even Salamina, Ciro, and their families were tucked behind Cavatori who was standing before him. So once again, he unwillingly looked at him.

  Nervously, Juron responded, “I do apologize for the delay. There was—”

  Looking at their facial expressions, he knew he needed to come up with an excellent reason as to why he was so tardy. Just then, he realized how to get out of hot water.

  “There was an insubordinate who already tried to steal the first shipment of goods,” he continued. “These treasures — this shipment has already preceded its reputation in less than a day! So, it is up to you to determine if it was worth the wait. But I can assure you; you’re not going to be disappointed.” He addressed the full gathering, “I think we all have waited long enough. Now, if you would be so kind to follow me, please.”

  As they walked the halls, their silence smothered them. The palace gradually became so institutionalized in appearance that it almost looked like an asylum. All of their footsteps echoed for miles. The little girl’s footfalls were the loudest, for she was taking bigger steps than normal, trying her heart out to keep the same pace as her mother. Her golden ringlets bounced with each step. She stared at every door and into every window they passed, soaking up the environment around her.

 

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