Atlantis Fallen (The Heartstrike Chronicles Book 1)

by C. E. Murphy

  Ghean he would take for himself after Minyah died of old age. It wasn’t that he particularly wanted her, although she was pretty enough. It was that Lorhen and Aroz wanted her. The anticipation of their deaths was sweetened that much more by the knowledge that he would possess what they had desired. It would be easy: Ghean would have only adoration for the man who led her beyond her mortal life, and Lorhen was not the man to do it. She'd make an entertaining little prize until it came time to take her head, though the longer he avoided that the more worthwhile the power of her Blending would be; it aged, like wine, gathering in strength.

  But most of all, he wanted that Book and its secrets. Immortality was well and good, but any artifact that could offer a mortal endless centuries would surely be that much more effective in the hands of a Timeless. Gods were made of less, and he wanted to be one; why not, when he and his kind were so nearly gods already? Karem shook himself, returning his attention to the conversation. Eventually they would give in to his easy smiles and polite charm, and tell him what he wanted to know. It was only a matter of time, and time he had in abundance.

  Aroz returned with the second tray of drinks, still scowling at everyone in general and Lorhen in particular. The Timeless scholar showed none of the respect due the women of the Hunter: he was too familiar with Minyah, arguing back and forth like old companions, equals in a longtime friendship. It was preposterous and insulting for a commoner, no matter his age, to presume such an air with a member of any House. As another commoner, it was not Aroz's place to encourage Minyah to reprimand the ancient Timeless for his audacity, so, bitterly, he held his tongue.

  The way Lorhen treated Ghean was worse. Aroz handed the mugs out and regained his seat next to Karem, glowering across the table at Lorhen. A thousand years of living had not taught him how to appreciate Ghean's precious vitality. Lorhen seemed content to share her with the world, watching her actions with no attempt to rein her in. It was as though she was an exotic bird, trying her wings, and he the keeper, too reluctant to clip them. Unless he learned to contain her, Lorhen would lose her to another; lose her to Aroz, who would better keep that vibrancy safe. Aroz had kept Ghean safe her whole lifetime, watching her grow. Her entire life, he had waited patiently for her to be a woman, so that he could keep her safe for eternity. The memory of the pale outland scholar would fade.

  He glanced Karem's way, over his mug of ale. Karem remained an enigma to Aroz, his single obsession seeming to be the possession of the artifacts. He spoke eagerly of the idea of ‘children’, those he envisioned handing immortality to as though it were a simple gift, no more than the exchange of words or smiles. There were certainly mortals who should live eternally, including the only one who sat at the table with him, and Aroz had no compunction against picking and choosing which ones should be granted the gift. Karem, though, appeared to have something larger in mind, a kingdom under his own rule, perhaps, and on that one topic, Aroz agreed with Lorhen: mortals, broadly speaking, would not take well to a Timeless king, and more, to anoint himself as such would draw Karem to the attention of other Timeless. Aroz knew the Atlantean artifacts worked, but in the end no magic cloak or crystal would stop a truly determined Timeless from taking Karem’s head. It would come down to who was the better swordsman, who wanted most to live, and no artifact would change that. Aroz shrugged at his mug, and looked up to see Ghean smiling at him.

  "Don't be such a sourpuss," she said, reaching across the table to touch his hand. "The ceremony is in two days. Won't you be happy for me, old friend? Is there not even one smile within you for me?"

  Aroz dredged up a smile, tinged with regret. "I am happy for you, Ghean. I wish you all the joy of many days.”

  Ghean’s answering smile was almost enough to make the lie worth telling, though beside her, Lorhen cast a crooked smile at the table, and Aroz knew that he, at least, wasn’t fooled by the platitude. Ghean might never forgive him if he fought Lorhen again and won, but then, neither would she forgive Lorhen if he should take Aroz’s own Blending. It would almost be worth it, and Aroz would take the opportunity, if it arose, to try for the heartstrike in combat with Lorhen again.

  Too trusting and too kind to think such things herself, Ghean smiled at him. "Thank you, Aroz. That wasn't so bad, was it? You'll stand in place of my father, won't you? I'd like to have all of my family together for the ceremony, and you're a part of it."

  Aroz’s jaw clenched, but he could say nothing other than, “I would be honored, Ghean.”

  Ghean beamed, squeezing his hand again. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Aroz.”

  Aroz muttered, “Of course,” and was grateful when Karem, as if blithely unaware, said, “Pleasantries aside, I wonder if I could impose on you, Minyah? Your expertise on the artifacts is clearly far greater than Lorhen's, and I would greatly enjoy learning what you know about them."

  If Karem had intended a barb to land, it failed entirely: Lorhen nodded agreement. “You’re right, Karem. She’s far more likely to be able to determine the location of the Book, if it still exists, than I am. An entire lifetime in Atlantis, versus a few weeks." He shrugged, playfully rueful. "I'm outclassed."

  "In that, you are entirely correct," Minyah said serenely, though the smile that shot across her face ruined the effect, and everyone, even Aroz, laughed. "I would be delighted to instruct you in what little I know, Karem. Perhaps Lorhen would like to join us, as he has finally confessed his interest in the artifacts as well?" She lifted an eyebrow at Lorhen curiously.

  Lorhen opened his mouth to protest that it wasn't necessary, then stilled the words as he took in Minyah's expression. She was—not afraid; he didn’t think Minyah was afraid of anyone. But wary. Wary of being alone with Karem. Lorhen couldn't blame her, and changed his sentence while still inhaling to speak it. "I'd be delighted," he admitted, adding a touch of chagrin at having been found out. "I'd no doubt have gotten further myself if I'd had the presence of mind to ask you, Minyah."

  "No doubt. Men, however, often seem reluctant to ask the help of a woman." Minyah picked up her coffee mug and smiled over the brim of it at each of the men in turn. "I suspect it is due to fear that they will confirm that women are far more intelligent than they are."

  For a moment, Lorhen, Aroz and Karem became a monument to solidarity, properly offended on the behalf of all men. Ghean laughed, applauding her mother, and Minyah looked smugly pleased. "I trust you will remember that in the future," she said to Lorhen, who gave up his expression of mock offense to join the laughter.

  "I'll try," he promised. "Meanwhile, I propose our study sessions don't begin until next week? The ceremony is in two days—"

  "A day and a half, now," Ghean interjected.

  "A day and a half," Lorhen corrected, smiling, "and most of us here are rather intimately involved with it." He shrugged at Karem. "A few days' delay won't make that much difference."

  Karem frowned very slightly, glancing over the others at the table before shrugging. "I suppose not, at that," he agreed with well-feigned pleasantry. "Forgive my eagerness, Minyah. I've never been good at patience."

  "Few of the young are," Minyah said in a tone so dry Lorhen shot a sideways glance at her. She arched an eyebrow back at him, elegantly. The corner of her mouth turned up, self-mocking, and she lifted a hand to gesture briefly at her own eyes. It is something in the eyes, she had said when she'd deduced Lorhen's secret; something, apparently, that she could discern in many Timeless. Lorhen sat back, mouth held in a tiny purse as he regarded Minyah.

  She could be very, very dangerous to the Timeless, if she chose to be. He wondered how old they had to be, how many lifetimes they had to have lived, before she could see it in their eyes, or if it was the very first death that marked them with something visible to a discerning gaze. Lorhen turned his head to study Ghean, who smiled back up at him curiously.

  Nothing but the tingle of potential Awakening marked her as Timeless. Her eyes were bright, full of life and excitement, untouched by the deaths he
could see in the faces of his immortal counterparts across the table. Looking at Ghean, Lorhen wondered when those changes would settle into her face, invisible to all but those who knew how to look for them.

  Karem was grinning apologetically, unaware his secret was betrayed to the Atlantean scholar sitting across from him. "Perhaps patience will come to me as I age," he agreed. Lorhen could hear the underlying tinge of amusement, so often injected into his own words. Sometimes it was the only way to maintain sanity, to pretend as if immortality and great age were a colossal joke, one only the Timeless were in on.

  Except this time, Minyah was also in on it. She smiled, nodded, and said, "Perhaps," with such polite disbelief that Ghean blinked in surprise.

  All trace of humor fell away from Karem's face. Coolly, he stood, looking down at Minyah. "And perhaps not," he agreed, acidly. "Maybe you're right. What a pity that would be for you." He turned and stalked away through the thinning crowd.

  Lorhen watched him a moment before speaking to Minyah. "That may have been a mistake."

  "I do not care to be laughed at," Minyah said irritably. "Particularly by children who think they are my better."

  Aroz, voice slightly strangled, said, "He's more than four hundred years old, Minyah."

  "Never-the-less," she snapped, "my statement stands. He is a child, eager for toys beyond his understanding, and I do not care to be mocked."

  Ghean was staring after Karem in dismay. "He's one of you, too?" Her voice rose to a higher pitch. "Is everyone going to live forev—"

  Lorhen elbowed Ghean in the stomach, wincing apologetically as he did so. Ghean's expression exploded into outrage. Aroz half lurched to his feet, snatching for his sword, Lorhen echoing the action.

  Minyah's voice cracked out: "Stop this!"

  Both men froze, eyes locked on each other across the table, hands comfortable on sword hilts, entirely ready to do battle. A circle of quiet washed out from their table, as other patrons turned to watch the commotion. Aroz, finally, snarled, "Later," and slammed his sword fully back into the sheath, regaining his seat.

  "Later," Lorhen agreed. "Ghean, I'm sorry," he said as he sat down again. "You were becoming uncomfortably loud. I'm sorry," he repeated. "Are you all right?"

  Ghean rubbed her stomach sullenly. "I'm fine. Is everyone going to live forever but me?" she demanded more quietly. "It's not fair."

  Lorhen exchanged uneasy glances with Minyah. "Life has never been fair, Ghean," the woman said, "but I am quite certain I will not live forever. Perhaps you will be lucky and will be like them."

  Ghean looked up at Lorhen, eyes pleading. "Will I?" she asked. "Could that happen?"

  Lorhen closed his eyes, releasing a soft sigh, then looked at Ghean. "I don't know. I don't know, Ghean. We don't make that decision." He looked over at Aroz, whose face was pinched, though he nodded his head in agreement after a few seconds. Lorhen sighed again, shaking his head, and repeated a third time, "I don't know."

  20

  How dare she! How dare an upstart of a mortal act so superior toward him! Karem stalked though the emptying streets with no heed for passers-by. Most prudently stepped out of his way ahead of time; a few of the less lucky were nearly bowled over as he plowed by with no regard.

  Thwarted at every turn! Betrayed by Lorhen—what a gem Ghean was, open and trusting to a fault. It was a pity he hadn't had more time to talk with her alone. He'd have pried every movement Lorhen had made out of her within an hour or two.

  Karem had to admit, the ancient Timeless was a good liar. After nearly half a millennium, he wouldn't have imagined anyone could lie to him so successfully, yet he'd genuinely believed that Lorhen had spent no time fussing with the artifacts.

  Maybe it was the temple's aura, blinding me to the truth. The thought almost made him laugh, and he slowed his angry rush forward somewhat. No, the truth was that Lorhen was an astonishingly good liar, and Karem arrogant enough to believe he couldn't be lied to. He should have known better. Next time, he would. In the meantime, no irreversible damage had been done. Whatever Lorhen had found out, if anything, Karem would learn from Minyah.

  His expression darkened again, thinking of the scholar. She couldn't possibly know the truth about him, and yet she had targeted her barbs so well. No: it was merely the arrogance of physical maturity that had given Minyah her certainty. She appeared fifteen years older than he. There was no reason for her to believe anything else. That she didn't trust him was quite obvious, but he didn't need her trust. He needed her knowledge, and to gain that, fear was as effective a tool as trust.

  Two days until after the wedding. Karem twisted his mouth as he slowed again, walking by the temple. He could afford a few days.

  Just after midnight, Lorhen jerked upright, hand closing on the covers in search of a sword that wasn't there. Ghean pushed herself up on her elbows, blinking in alarm. "What is it?"

  Lorhen swung out of bed, shaking his hair back over his shoulders. "A nightmare," he answered. "Go back to sleep. I'm going to get a drink of water. I'll be back soon."

  Ghean nodded, eyes already closed again as her head dropped into the pillow. Lorhen watched her for a brief moment, bending to brush the back of his hand across the air above her cheekbone. "I love you," he whispered, and picked up the sword by the bed to go out and meet the Timeless who waited for him.

  The moon had faded to a sliver, its light reflecting poorly from the garden walls and making monsters of trees and shadows. Lorhen walked the path cautiously, flat sandals offering little purchase and causing the gravel stones to shift slightly under his weight. Each movement cracked like a ricochet to Lorhen's ears, forcing him to abandon any pretense of silence.

  Aroz sat on one of the stone benches, elbows on his knees and hands hanging loosely, head dropped as he studied the ground. He was dressed as Lorhen was, in the lightweight pants that Atlanteans customarily wore to sleep in, shirt left behind in his quarters. His sword lay on the bench beside him, bronze glinting dully in the light. As Lorhen stopped a few yards away, Aroz lifted his head, expression unreadable in the half light. After a few moments he stood, sword gripped loosely in his hand. "I wasn't sure you would come."

  "We don't have to do this," Lorhen said tiredly.

  Aroz smiled thinly, casting a glance back at the small house Lorhen had come from. "You struck her. I am still her bodyguard. Even if we were not Timeless, her honor would still be at stake."

  "She was about to expose us," Lorhen pointed out. "Loudly, and to a sizable group of people. I couldn't allow that."

  Aroz shrugged. "Who would have believed her?"

  "Someone might have. I didn't live as long as I have by letting people announce to random strangers that I'm immortal. I couldn't take the chance."

  "And so you prefer to strike your beloved?"

  Lorhen sighed. "I elbowed her. I didn't belt her." A fit of unwise honesty prompted him to add, "And yes. I will stop someone by any means necessary from blurting out our secret."

  "Even the woman you are to marry."

  Lorhen tilted his head back a little, weariness in the movement. Eyes still on Aroz, he said, "Yes. There will be a time that she understands, Aroz, but it hasn't come yet. She's still mortal."

  Aroz looked up at the house again. "How long will you continue to allow her to be unaware of what she is?"

  "Allow?" Lorhen straightened his head, staring at Aroz. "I don't allow or disallow anything, Aroz. I'm old, not omnipotent. It's not my choice when or if she Awakens." He, too, glanced back toward the house, and then his shoulders dropped. More softly, he admitted, "I don't think I could bear to lose her to old age, not knowing the potential is in her. A few years, maybe five or six. She'd still be young."

  "And if she hates you for keeping it secret? What if you lose her to that?"

  Lorhen looked back with a wry smile. "Maybe she'd let me make it up to her in a few hundred years. I don't expect the marriage to last after she learns, truthfully. It wouldn't be fair to her."

 
; Aroz shook his head. "Then why not tell her now? Let her make the choice now?"

  "Why not tell her yourself?" Lorhen said shortly, lifting his eyebrows when Aroz looked away uncomfortably. The older Timeless let the silence draw out a few moments before speaking again. "I won't tell her yet because immortality changes us all in a fundamental way, and Ghean is still very young. I don't want to see her vivaciousness fade. Not yet." He closed his eyes, calling the image of Ghean's smile to mind. "Let her enjoy that passion while she can. It might not survive the first death." Lorhen could hear the sorrow in his own voice, and smiled sardonically at it. When he opened his eyes a moment later, it was to find Aroz staring at him, a quizzical frown wrinkling his forehead.

  "You really do love her."

  Lorhen groaned. "Of course I do. You think I want to marry her so you can't have her? Don't be stupid, Aroz. I haven't kept my head a thousand years by courting that sort of idiocy."

  Aroz stood quietly a few minutes, eyebrows still drawn down as he examined Lorhen. "I don't understand you," he said eventually.

  Lorhen snorted, a sound of amusement that shook his body. "You're not the first, and you won't be the last. Does your lack of understanding go so far that it requires us to fight, Aroz? Because whether it does or doesn't, I'd like to get it over with so I can go back to bed."

  Aroz's expression darkened again, and for the third time he looked toward the house where Ghean slept. "I have protected her all her life, at any cost. Will you do the same?"

  At any cost except my own life. Lorhen nodded slowly, the caveat remaining unspoken. "I will."