Ivory began to whimper softly. “Why won’t you come home, Daddy? You can’t go away for so long. We miss you. Mommy is gone, and you need to stay with us. Ronan is sad.”
Vachlan walked to the window of the hotel room, and pushed the curtain aside. The sky was darkening, and it was becoming more striking that the city was entirely without electricity. None of the streetlights were lit, and all of the buildings appeared as opaque black shapes against the sky. “I can’t come home now, munchkin. Mommy is very upset and she’s going to do something very bad if I don’t stop her. It’s very important.”
“Fine!” Ivory shouted into the phone. “Mommy always said that you were going to disappear one day. You don’t care about us. Stay away, and don’t come home. You’re not my daddy anymore.”
When his daughter hung up on him, Vachlan stared at the phone in dismay. His chest ached. It was Alcyone all over again. His heart was torn in two different directions. He knew he should go home and take care of his children, considering their vulnerable and impressionable age, but he also knew that this was a critical time for their mother. If he could not reach her in time, he had a hunch that Visola was about to unleash more chaos than even he could control.
She had already started.
Holding the curtain aside, Vachlan stared out at the pitch-black city. It did not look like the lively city of Miami, known for its thriving nightlife—it looked like the beginning of an apocalyptic nightmare. “So you turned off all the lights, Viso. What are you up to, love?” He mused over this as he stared at the ominous skyline. Indeed, one of the taller buildings looked like there had been a fire in its higher floors, or possibly explosions. He was staring at the black smoke billowing up into the sky, when his phone rang again. His head snapped down sharply, as he looked hungrily for the caller ID. He hoped that it was Ivory calling to take back her words, but he had no such luck. It was Dr. Dylan Rosenberg.
Vachlan answered the phone. “What’s up, man?”
Dylan cleared his throat. “Uh, Vachlan. You need to see the news. Get to a television set.”
“Can you just tell me the news?” Vachlan asked angrily.
“Sure… it’s just… she is…” Dylan cleared his throat again. “That is to say…”
Vachlan rolled his eyes in frustration. He moved over to the clunky old television set in the musty motel room. Grabbing the remote, he turned it on and flipped to a news station. Seeing the headline scrolling across the bottom of the screen, he froze.
“Did you see?” Dylan asked, hearing the noise from the news report. “What do we do? Vachlan? What should we do?
Taking a few steps backward, Vachlan lowered himself to sit down on the bed. His arm was still extended with the remote pointed at the television.
FOREIGN TERRORIST VISOLA RAMARIS CAPTURED BY THE CIA AND HELD IN A SECURE LOCATION FOR INTERROGATION. THE FORMER OCEANIC OFFICIAL HAS BEEN DECLARED AN ENEMY OF THE STATE.
The colors of the television screen seemed to spin in a kaleidoscopic explosion. Vachlan had difficulty hearing the words spoken on the news report, for there was a sudden ringing in his ears. All he could see was Sionna’s body laid out before him. All he could remember was that fearful moment of beholding a corpse was identical to his wife. It now danced across his brain like an omen of things to come.
“Vachlan? Vachlan, are you there?” Dylan was asking.
“Yes,” Vachlan said quietly into his phone. His eyes narrowed. “I feel uncomfortable when other people torture my wife.”
Dylan seemed confused by this comment. “I think that’s a perfectly natural emotion to have.”
“None of this is natural,” Vachlan responded. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. “I could save her from anything and anyone. But how am I going to save her from herself?”
“Let’s just start by finding her.”
Aazuria woke up to the odd feeling of weightlessness. It felt incredibly pleasant for a moment, and she smiled as her body soared through the air. If this was a dream, it was nice. It had been a while since she had dreamt of such a realistic…
Snapping awake, she sat up abruptly. She found a small window to her right, and she pressed her face against it in surprise. The ground was moving away. It took her a moment to understand that she was on an airplane; she did not know where, or why.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Coffee?”
This was spoken by an unfamiliar voice. Turning to the side, she saw the man who was holding a cup of coffee out to her. Fragmented memories of the previous night came rushing back to her mind. She tried to stand, but found a seatbelt across her body. She unlatched it, and rose to her full height.
“Am I being abducted?” she demanded. “I must warn you, I have been held against my will before, and it usually does not end well for my captor.”
Taranis lifted an eyebrow. “It wasn’t on my agenda. Would you like to be abducted?”
“What kind of a question is that?” Aazuria asked with a frown. “Who on earth would want to be abducted?”
“Lots of people,” Taranis told her, placing her coffee down on her tray. “It plays into their fantasies of losing control. They hire companies to arrange staged kidnappings, for the sake of the thrill.”
“Wow,” Aazuria said in disbelief. “I cannot imagine that it would be very thrilling if you knew you were safe the entire time. Those people must not have much excitement in their lives.”
Taranis laughed. “We’re not all lucky enough to be as important as you, and actually get kidnapped.”
“Lucky?” Aazuria repeated. She blinked, and then shook her head. “Forget this. Where is my cousin? Is he safe?”
“Of course! He is in the other section of the plane, chatting with my brother.” Taranis scratched his head in embarrassment. “They, uh, seem to be getting along quite well.”
“Your brother,” Aazuria said, squinting in memory. “I don’t know your brother.”
“You met him last night. The blonde man who was with me? His name is Marinus. He is Marina’s twin brother. They are younger than you and me—they had not been born the last time you were in Atlantis.”
Aazuria nodded, glancing back to the window. “Where are we going? The last thing I remember is… a news report about Visola.”
“We’re going to save her, of course,” Taranis responded, moving back over to his side of the plane and sitting down. He picked up some papers that he had previously been scanning.
“How are we going to do that?” Aazuria asked. “She’s in the custody of the American government. We can’t just ask them nicely to return her.”
Taranis chuckled. “Not after what she’s done. That little lady sure can stir up a storm, can’t she? I remember her being so sweet and innocent. Visola sure has changed and hardened over the years…”
“She’s been through a lot,” Aazuria told him. “To begin with, you betrayed her and broke her heart—but it’s only gotten worse since then. The American government has committed appalling crimes against us. Visola is in great pain, and she has no other way to cope with it. So she’s lashing out and retaliating.” Looking around, Aazuria found a bottle of water, and quickly uncorked it and took a long drink. “Where are we going? What’s the plan? How are we going to get her back?”
Taranis shrugged. “I’m not exactly sure yet, to be honest. It’s not going to be easy, that’s for sure. But between the two of us, we should be clever enough to work something out.” He returned to his reading.
Aazuria would not allow herself to feel any security in the knowledge that this very powerful man was on her side. He had betrayed Visola in the past, and turned his entire nation against them for petty reasons. The Leviathan had forced her out of her home once before, and she would not allow him to cause her to lose Adlivun. It was just as likely that this man could be her ultimate enemy as America, or any of the land-dweller nations.
“What about Callder?” Aazuria asked sharply. “You abducted Callder.”
“Abduct
ed?” Prince Taranis responded, flipping through the papers. He glanced up. “Is that the right word?”
“You tell me,” Aazuria said, moving closer. “What is the right word?”
Taranis considered this for a moment. “How about ‘befriended’? Callder and I share a particular passion for games, and we have been enjoying a marathon of various mental competitions.”
Aazuria narrowed her eyes. “He just disappeared. His family has no clue where he is.”
“Well, I must admit. I did intend to kill the man, a few short weeks ago,” Taranis said with a nod. “I was infuriated that you put him in charge of Atlantis, considering that the place has been in my family for millennia. I am the rightful ruler of Atlantis.”
“I thought you were dead!” Aazuria hissed. “The Clan of Zalcan had conquered and oppressed pretty much everything under the sea. When I defeated them, I made it my duty to go around and clean up their mess, restoring order and a high quality of life to all the war-torn nations. I formed the Oceanic Empire as part of my vow to try to prevent anything like that from ever happening again. When I came to Atlantis, it was a pile of rubble. I had to build that city back up from the ground. I couldn’t believe that you or anyone in your family would still be around, and let that happen to your home.”
The brown-haired man turned to gaze out of the window, with a troubled expression on his face. “I hear that you have a daughter, Queen Aazuria. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“How old is she?” Taranis asked.
“Fourteen. Almost fifteen,” Aazuria responded. She closed her eyes briefly. “Why are you asking me this?”
“I had a daughter, too.” He turned to make eye contact with Aazuria. “When the Clan swept through Atlantis, they were not merciful. We fought against them. We fought with everything we had, but we lost. I lost everything. They killed my father and my wife; they took my young daughter. We had to take our best men and retreat to Fort Helike. We’ve been hiding there, and sneaking around to build our forces and our influence, for seventy-five years. We’ve been waiting all this time for the day we could rise again and take our revenge. Seventy-five year of living like rats.”
“That would have been around the same time that they attacked the Ningyo in Yonaguni,” Aazuria said, thoughtfully.
“Yes. It was while the land-dwellers were engaged in World War II. The military strategist of the clan was a rogue sea-dweller from Ker-ys. He managed to commandeer dozens of submarines from the Germans, who had a working relationship with the Clan. He sent land-dwellers down to bomb Atlantis. Land-dwellers! Fighting against us. It was his fault. That’s why my city was ruined.”
“It was Vachlan?” Aazuria asked softly.
“Yes. The Destroyer of Kingdoms,” Taranis said, with a sneer. “A name he aptly earned. Imagine my surprise when I learned that he had married Visola Ramaris. My Visola. For a little while, I thought she might be responsible for this—as revenge. That’s why, when you put Callder in charge of Atlantis, I thought that was the plan all along. To steal my nation right out from under me.”
Aazuria sighed and moved into the seat next to the man. “Prince Taranis, Atlantis is yours. It always has been. Callder is a sweet man, but he’s an idiot, and not fit to run a blossoming metropolis. I just sent him there because he was family, and I trusted him. Sometimes, his incompetence cost me more stress than his help was worth. I have been flying back and forth across the world frequently, and governing the city myself for the most part. If I had known that you were alive, I would have happily handed it back to you. It has been a huge headache, and just another responsibility that I cannot possibly handle. I am only one woman, and I am also responsible for rebuilding Bimini, and helping the Rusalka, the Mami Wata, the YawkYawks…”
“But I would not be free,” Taranis responded. “You would require that I join your Oceanic Empire.”
Aazuria nodded. “Yes. Of course. You will be the King of Atlantis, and you will have the freedom to govern your own people as you see fit—however, you must join Oceanus to ensure that you will remain peaceful with other undersea nations. Considering the billions of dollars that our crown has invested in rebuilding the city and bringing in skilled foreign workers, we would also expect to remain financially interested, indefinitely.”
“So you’re giving me back my home, with dozens of conditions, stipulations, and provisions?” Taranis placed his elbow on the armrest and leaned forward to glare at her. “That doesn’t sound too respectful to me, Queen Aazuria.”
Aazuria straightened, returning his glare. “I apologize, Prince Taranis, but it is my duty to make sure that Atlantis continues to grow and prosper. I have promised all the new immigrants a safe, comfortable, and superior lifestyle. With all due respect, Atlantis is currently in better condition than it ever was when your family was in charge.”
This seemed to strike a nerve, for the man turned away. “It may have been a dump, but it was my dump,” he said angrily.
Sighing, Aazuria leaned back in her chair. “We have labored incessantly to improve the city. We care about its future, and we would want to work together with you to ensure its progress.”
“I would be the King of Atlantis, but I would be controlled by you?” he asked with a growl.
“Empress Amabie is at the head of the empire,” Aazuria corrected. “We make decisions together. All of the heads of state get together for annual meetings, or emergency councils. Sultans, Czars, Kings, Presidents—we are all stronger together. We are independent, but we find strength in our allies.”
“This is despicable,” Taranis said. “You’re trying to reduce me to nothing more than a puppet.”
“Be grateful,” she said with warning. “If I had not waged war against the Clan of Zalcan, you would never have recovered control of Atlantis. And if, by some miracle, you had—they would have taken it back easily. The Clan was immensely powerful, in every ocean of the world.”
“Not in my ocean,” Taranis said. “I secured an army of over a million strong in the wilds of the Atlantic. The heathens of the Mid-Atlantic ridge? They all answer to me as their king now. I was going to make my move against the Clan soon, but you just got around to it before I did.”
“Exactly. I did,” she agreed. “I could have used your help, but it seems you were busy scurrying around in the sewers of South America. My men died in the war against the Clan. Thousands of my men died for victory, while you and your millions of warriors were hiding in the mountains like frightened little girls. So, if you want to enjoy the free new world that we secured for you, you can damn well follow a few rules.”
He studied her for a moment. “Color me impressed, Queen Aazuria. Look at you, driving a hard bargain and laying down the law. You sound nothing like the meek, mild-mannered girl I met in the sixteenth century.”
“I was never meek or mild-mannered.” She scoffed at this. “You just never got to know me. I don’t think we ever had a single conversation privately—it was always just my father parading me around like a prized horse he wanted to sell to your father.” She shook her head in disgust. “You never even spoke to me before proposing to me, and hurting Visola the way you did...”
“I never meant to hurt her,” Taranis said sharply. “I only proposed at my father’s behest. The whole betrothal was a fucking fiasco. I thought Visola understood that marrying you would be strictly business, but that I truly loved her and would keep her as my mistress on the side.”
“As your mistress on the side!” Aazuria repeated furiously.
“I know. I know that sounds.” Taranis sighed. “Look, I want to clear some things up. I used a device last night to eavesdrop on your conversation with your cousin and figure out your honest intentions. There’s one thing you were wrong about. The war against Valhalla; it wasn’t me. I didn’t lead the attacks on your kingdom in 1585. My father was angry about the refused proposal. He was trying to build a reputation for me as a fearsome warrior. He’s the one who insisted we spread
that nickname, and call me the ‘Leviathan.’ He led most of the attacks, and attributed them to me.” Taranis swallowed. “But I did eventually start leading troops into battle, in an effort to make him proud. I really did want to live up to the name he chose for me.”
Aazuria shook her head. “You let your father control you that much? And you say I was meek and mild-mannered? My father gave me clear instructions to marry you, but I refused! I was strong enough to do the right thing, even though I knew I would be punished.”
“I thought that I was doing the right thing,” Taranis said with a frown. “I was deeply in love with Visola, but my father said that power was more important than the petty emotions of a child. He said it was my duty to marry you. He said that duty to family came above all else. I told Visola this. I told her about the conflict I was facing, but I said I wanted to be with her, no matter what I was forced to do.”
Aazuria was appalled. “So you wanted to enter a fake marriage with me, while sleeping with my friend behind my back?”
“Yes. Precisely. It would have made everyone happy. It would have appeased both your father and mine. It would have saved countless lives, and you never would have had to abandon your home and migrate to Adlivun.”
“I cannot believe I am having this conversation,” Aazuria said with a groan. “The worst part is that you almost make that fool-brained plan seem sensible.”
“It could have worked,” Taranis said. “It could have been a functional arrangement.”
Aazuria exhaled very slowly. “I do not regret my decision to refuse you. Visola deserved your proposal, and your full attention. She did not deserve to be your mistress on the side.”
“I agree,” he said.
“I suppose that everything happens for a reason. Maybe we needed the experience with you to serve us in later years. I am just glad that Visola found a better man than you. A man who always honored her and held her above all else.”
“I disagree,” said Taranis with a frown. “Didn’t he abandon her? Say what you will about my choices, I never left Visola. I may have chosen to marry someone else, but I never pushed her out of my life. I never walked out of hers. You would have had my name, and my title, and given birth to my legitimate heirs, but Visola always would have had my heart.”
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