by M. Leighton
“Now you can’t start laughing when I say it, Madly. Er, Mary. You’ll give us away,” he warned.
“I won’t,” I said, grinning widely. “I promise. I’m just a little…surprised by the choice, that’s all. What kind of an idiot came up with that?”
Jackson actually blushed beneath his bronze skin. “The last time it was changed, that honor went to the Sentinel student with the highest achievement scores and that just happened to be me. That also happened to be the year I’d just discovered Jack Hannah,” he explained sheepishly. “I had a thing about creatures on dry land.”
“Aw,” I cooed, reaching up to stroke his raspberry cheek. “You were so adorable back then.”
As far back as I could recall, I had memories of Jackson. I had seen him in virtually every stage and phase of his life and I think I’d loved him in all of them. He’d been captivating since birth and I was fairly certain that I had documented just such a fact in the old diary I used to keep. Jackson would probably get a kick out of seeing it, but it was gone. Jersey had stolen it as a joke and it ended up drifting away into the open sea, never to be seen again.
“Back then?” Jackson teased with mock indignation. “And what about now?”
“You graduated from adorable to hot several years ago,” I said, feeling a warm flush suffuse my neck and chest as my pulse rose.
His pupils dilated and I knew we had to change the subject. I got the distinct impression that Jackson and I would have to be very careful to not let our chemistry get out of hand. The attraction I felt for him was intensified dozens of times as a result of the mating tie. It was getting harder and harder to keep my hands off him. And it would only get worse with time.
“I did, huh?” he purred, one corner of his mouth tilting up into a cocky grin.
“You know you did,” I said, smacking his chest playfully.
“So what you’re saying is that you’ve been stalking me for years.”
“No!” I exclaimed, feeling the burn of blood in my own cheeks. Even though for all intents and purposes I had already confessed, I still wasn’t yet comfortable admitting those kinds of things to Jackson. “You were Jersey’s brother. I didn’t really have a choice but to notice.”
“You had a crush on me all this time,” he kidded in a sing-song voice.
“Whatever,” I replied casually, rolling my eyes and looking away, embarrassed.
“Good,” he chirped happily. “Then we’re even.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I told you that I knew I loved you before your father sent me away. What I didn’t tell you was that I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you all your life.” Jackson reached forward and grabbed a single lock of hair from my shoulder, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger. As he stared at the blonde strand, he said bemusedly, “I think I’ve loved you all my life.”
My heart tripped over itself. That’s exactly how I felt—that I’d loved Jackson since before time began, like there was never a moment in my entire existence when I was pining for him, even before I knew it was him. My heart knew. My soul knew. It had always been Jackson. And it always would be.
With my heart in my throat, all I could manage to squeak out around the lump was, “I know.”
We stood close, nearly nose to nose, on the sidewalk in front of my parents’ home, more in love than I could ever have hoped for, and yet Atlas was in more danger than ever. How could such good coexist with such horror?
Giving the strand of hair he held one last swipe with his thumb, Jackson inhaled deeply.
“Are you ready for this?”
I inhaled, too.
“Lead the way, John.”
Jackson grinned, took my hand and led me to the guard house at the gates of the mansion. The Sentinel on duty looked to be a little older than Jackson. His post was still an impressive one for someone his age. Most Sentinels didn’t get very good or very important details until they were much older and far more experienced. Jackson, obviously, was the ultimate exception because Jackson was the ultimate warrior. There had never been another Sentinel like him. Everyone knew it. No one knew why or what made him so special, so capable and strong. Everyone just accepted it. It simply was. He simply was. He was Jackson, a force to be reckoned with. End of story.
The guard approached the small window of the shack.
“State your business, sir,” he said, stern but respectful.
“We’ve got an appointment to see the Warden Major about a request he’d submitted to the Wildlife Authority several months back. It was in regards to a marmoset. It’s a bit of a long story, but my wife and I are rehabilitators and we’ve been nursing one back to health for some time now and we’d like to find her a good home. We’re hoping the Warden will take her.”
It sounded so ridiculous, it was believable. It had to be. It was utterly preposterous and I felt sure the Sentinel would agree that someone with nefarious plans would never use such a silly excuse to gain entrance to the mansion.
The young guard frowned and made a soft snorting noise. Not one loud enough to be rude, but it was discernible nonetheless. He must’ve been thinking the same thing I was.
“Hold please,” he said, reaching for the special amulet he’d been given when he was assigned his position.
I knew all about them since I’d lived around Sentinels just like him all my life. The necklace reminded me of dog tags, the human soldiers’ means of identification, but the guards had only one.
It was a thin, rectangular shard of marble that was taken from the very walls of the mansion and charmed by one of Atlas’s first Warden Majors. It was a direct line of communication to various people with whom the guard might need to speak, as well as a means to sound the alarms. The wafer-like stone the Sentinel held was undoubtedly transmitting his request to the Warden Major himself. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and pray that the position was still occupied by my father.
A few seconds later, the guard focused his attention back on us, handing Jackson a small, transparent disc that resembled a clear CD.
“Sign in please. Someone will be along to escort you to the Warden momentarily,” he assured us stiffly.
It gave me a headache to watch him. He took his job way too seriously. Yes, it was an important job, but I was pretty sure it was acceptable for him to breathe occasionally.
Jackson waved the small circle over his left hip and then handed it to me. I did the same, knowing that the device recorded my unique scale color and pattern, just as it had Jackson’s, and that our visit would be forever stored in the Warden’s archives. The magic I’d used to cloak us had altered our appearance as well as our scales. Now the color and pattern would be officially associated with John and Mary Rainns.
“Name?”
“John Rainns and this is my wife, Mary,” Jackson said, indicating me with a wave of his hand.
When the guard bent his head to input and link our scale patterns to our names, Jackson tossed me a quick wink that had my lips twitching. He was so wicked.
Afterward, we only had to wait a few minutes for our escort. He was every bit as stiff as the first Sentinel, but at least he was a bit more loquacious, even if it was just polite small talk.
“What brings you to visit the Warden?” he asked conversationally.
Jackson spoke up and explained the nature of our business, saving me from having to utter the word marmoset and blow our cover with my giggles. And he did it perfectly. He was casual yet engaged, confident yet approachable. He was as non-threatening as someone of his intimidating height could be.
As we ascended the familiar walkway that led to the arched front entry of the mansion, pride, love and comfort swelled within me. I hadn’t even been aware of missing home until that moment. I could only imagine that it was intensified by the fact that the safety of my family was very much in question. All in all, I was near tears by the time we reached the enormous granite front doors.
When the heavy panels began to part,
a puff of air from the interior of the mansion wafted out to tickle my nose. It carried with it the myriad scents I found most comforting in all the world. It carried with it home—my home. As we stepped through into the cool marble foyer, with its deeply vaulted ceilings and gilded columns, I made a point to stop and look around, to act as if I’d never been inside the mansion, which would be the case if I were the person I was portraying.
From the grand foyer, the house’s three main hallways split off in different directions like spokes of a wheel. The Sentinel guided us down the long hall to the left, the hall that led toward my father’s suite of offices. There was an entire wing dedicated to his affairs as Warden Major and I couldn’t decide if we were going there because that’s where my father happened to be or if it was because Jackson had used the code word marmoset.
Despite the circumstances of our visit and our subterfuge, I still felt a bubbling excitement about seeing my father alive and well, healthy and hale. When the Sentinel knocked on my father’s office door, I felt my breath catch and hold in my throat.
“Enter,” came a booming voice from the other side of the thick, ornately-carved wooden panel.
At the sound of that voice, my knees wobbled with relief then stiffened with elation, with the desire to run into the room and throw myself into my father’s arms. I schooled my expression, purposely straightening the corners of my mouth. They had automatically twitched up into a smile. When the Sentinel pushed the door open and held it for us to precede him into the room, I forced myself to remain calm and cool. Respectful. Detached.
My first sight of him melted my heart. My father, Hennessey James, Warden Major of Atlas, stood behind his wide mahogany desk. He was proud, in control and very much alive.
To a less-discerning eye, he looked exactly as he had for the last fifty years—taller than most Mer, broad of shoulder, deeply tanned, white hair that brushed his collar bones, neatly trimmed beard of the same color, and sharp blue-green eyes that matched his scales. He’d always made a point of keeping himself in pique physical condition, taking pride in his ability to hold his own with virtually any Sentinel that ever ascended the ranks in Atlas. The only exception I’d ever known of was standing not ten feet in front of him.
Jackson was the only Sentinel ever to best Hennessey James.
The two most important men in my life stood staring at one another for several intense seconds before my father turned to the Sentinel and nodded.
“Thank you.”
We all remained silent as the Sentinel made his way from the room, pulling the door snugly shut behind him. When we were finally alone, my father turned his attention back to Jackson.
“So you’re here about the marmoset.”
If my father’s tone was intimidating, his expression was downright menacing. It was during those few tense moments that I saw what a toll the past days had taken on him. There were deep lines in his face, lines I didn’t remember seeing before I left. He had a haggard look about him that was somewhat alarming. My father had never been anything less than one of the most vital people I’d ever known. It didn’t set well with me to see him in such obvious distress.
I wanted to do away with our disguises, round the desk and wrap my arms around his neck, but I didn’t. Jackson, as if reading my mind, put his hand on my arm to stop me. I glanced up at him and he shook his head once, almost imperceptibly.
“Yes, sir,” Jackson finally answered, looking meaningfully back at my father.
After a brief pause, my father cleared his throat and spoke in his more normal bold, friendly tone.
“Well, I’d want to see it before I make a decision, you understand.”
“Of course, sir.”
In the silence that fell over the room, I heard the shifting of scales outside the office doors followed by the receding of footsteps. Once they had faded down the hall, my father rushed around his desk, stopping in front of Jackson.
“What do you know about the marmoset?”
Jackson turned to me and nodded.
“You can do it now.”
With a smile, I let the magical influence on our appearance fall away. Recognition appeared on my father’s face as Jackson’s true features emerged.
His mouth dropped open a tiny bit and his eyes shifted to me and then widened.
“Madly!” he exclaimed quietly, pausing for only a fraction of a second before pulling me into his arms for a bone crushing hug.
“Daddy, are you okay? What is going on?” I asked into his neck.
“Madly, what are you doing here? How did you get in here?” he asked leaning back to frown down into my face.
“Jackson and I made it through the shield during the prison system reset when the alarms were off,” I answered proudly.
My father’s frown deepened.
“That was incredibly dangerous,” he said in a disapproving tone before he turned a glare on Jackson. “And incredibly careless. What were you thinking?”
The question was not addressed to me, but to Jackson.
“Sir, there was no talking her out of it. You know how stubborn she can be. But also, we both knew that our best chances to save Atlas lay in our combined strength. We knew we needed to be together.”
I held my breath at Jackson’s blatant insinuation, bracing myself for the firestorm that would rain down on our heads if my father picked up on it. Thankfully, he seemed too distracted to really digest what Jackson had implied, and for that I was relieved.
“Daddy, you always told me that Atlas had to come first, that it was part of who we are as royals. I just did what I thought was right. And you know I could never have lived with myself if something had happened to you or Mom or Truly when I hadn’t done everything in my power to help you. That’s not who I am.”
His expression softened and he cupped my cheek.
“I know, sweetheart. You’ve got the heart of a royal already and I’m so proud of you. I just worry about you. You know that.”
I smiled up into his anxious eyes.
“I know, Daddy, but it had to be done. Now we can figure all this out, find a way to make it right.”
Jackson cleared his throat.
“Speaking of that, sir, what can you tell us about what’s been going on down here?”
“We still don’t know much, only that a royal has control of the fourth bracelet and—”
His explanation was interrupted by a knock at the study door. Immediately, I conjured the magic that altered our appearance, all my muscles bunching in readiness.
“Who is it?” he called in a voice like thunder.
“It’s me, Hennessey,” came the masculine reply.
I saw Daddy’s shoulders slump a tiny bit, his relief evident. I felt myself relax as well.
“It’s just Aaron,” he explained quietly before addressing the interloper. “Come on in.”
Jackson and I watched as the heavy door yawned open and Aaron Saint, Aidan’s father, stepped quickly inside, closing it firmly behind himself. I was struck once again by how much Aidan favored the elder Saint, with his sandy hair and soft hazel eyes. I used to imagine growing old with Aidan, watching him transform into an even greater likeness of his father, but now I just smiled at the resemblance. I had no desire to grow old with anyone other than Jackson.
Aaron’s eyes flickered uneasily from Daddy to me to Jackson and then back again before lingering on my father.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. I didn’t realize you had guests. I can come back when you have a free minute.
My father clapped one big hand on Aaron’s shoulder when he stopped at his side.
“Aaron, it’s Madly,” he confessed, tipping his head in my direction.
For a single heartbeat, a frown flickered over Aaron’s brow before his expression turned to one of skepticism. With a smile, I let my magic fall away again and watched as his face adopted a look of stunned disbelief.
“Madly, my God! What are you doing here? I mean, how…”
He
trailed off, shaking his head, clearly at a loss for words.
Before I could respond, my father interrupted.
“That’s not important right now, Aaron. We need to get them back out, back to dry land. Safely.”
“But Daddy, I came to help. We came to rescue you, to get you and Mom and Truly out of here. With all of us together, with the power of our bracelets and nothing to stop us, we can fix this. We can save Atlas.”
He was already shaking his head.
“We have to get you girls out of here. You know I can’t leave my people.”
“You can when it’s the only way to save them.”
“But it’s not. I have a plan. The most helpful thing you can do is get you and your sister out of here. I can take care of the rest.”
“But Daddy—”
“Madly, this is the way it’s going to be. There’s no point in arguing about it, especially when we need to find a way to get you and Truly out of here.” He turned to Jackson. “Can I count on you?”
I nearly laughed. That was the most ridiculous question I’d ever heard. If there was anyone alive, anyone on the planet that my father could trust with something important, it was Jackson.
Jackson nodded in his curt way.
“Madly’s my top priority, sir.”
I felt the glow of pleasure and pride and love warm my cheeks. When I looked guiltily away, hoping my father wouldn’t pick up on it, my eyes collided with the discerning gaze of Aaron Saint. He smiled in a benign way and I quickly dropped my eyes to my feet.
“Hennessey, I think I might have an idea of how we can get to Truly.”
All eyes turned toward Aaron.
“But we’re not even certain we know where they’re keeping her,” my father said doubtfully.
“I know, but I think you and I can both agree that it’s likely somewhere near the prison.”
“Well, yes. We’ve discussed as much before, but—”
“And really there are only a couple of suitable places in that area. If there was ever a time to take a chance and see if we can find her there, I think you’d also agree the time is now.”
“But how can we get in there?” I asked.
