From the Blue

by Mark Stephens

  Questions bombarded his thoughts. Where had his brother been all these months? Why had he chosen this night to reappear suddenly? Why had he run off? What was going on with him?

  The answers were up ahead, wherever his brother had gone. It seemed obvious that Julien wanted him to follow, yet he didn’t immediately stumble forward, deeper into the black and the unknown.

  Years of training and memories of childhood urged caution. As much as he had idolized Julien growing up, he also knew him to be cruel and sadistic at times, especially when they were competing. This little chase felt like his brother was playing one of those games now. Until he found those answers, he had to keep his eyes open.

  Keeping that in mind, Jaron ran his hand along the rough, cold wall and stepped carefully as he moved forward. The corridor snaked around, a corner every dozen footsteps or so.

  Turning another corner, he stopped. Up ahead, he could see the dull red outline of a cracked door. There wasn’t enough space to see beyond, but there hadn’t been any other exit or entrance in his winding path that he could discern. His brother had to be beyond that portal. He crossed the final few steps, his muscles tense with anticipation. Fingertips ran along the edge of scarlet before he pulled it all the way open.

  The red light spilled through the opening and colored his skin in blood tones. Strips of thick vinyl blocked his path and he pushed through them to emerge into another corridor lit by the deathly pall of red emergency lights. As soon as the final strip fell from his shoulder, he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he squatted down in a defensive crouch with his forearm held before him and looked towards that flash in his periphery.

  What he saw took him a moment to absorb. There were two dozen eyes set in a dozen faces staring back at him. His eyes and his faces.

  There was no attacker. The movement he had seen had been his own entry into this bizarre realm reflected back to him by a wall of mirrors.

  What is this place?

  Jaron only had a few seconds head start on her, yet Dylan quickly lost sight of him in the crowd. She followed, pushing her way through as fast as she could although she was nowhere near as nimble as he was. In fact, he was uncannily fast and had reflexes like a cat, better than any linebacker she’d ever seen play. He was almost…more than human.

  She finally got through the final barrier of children and flannel, just in time to see her date duck under the chain and bright yellow CLOSED sign of the Hall of Mirrors.

  Dylan didn’t know why he was going in there or what he was chasing after. The only thing she was certain of was that something had spooked him. Someone had spooked him and it scared her.

  Her footfalls thumped loudly on the wooden ramp as she followed it to the narrow walkway and the entrance. Without a thought, she ducked under the chain and rushed into the black interior.

  Inside, the first hallway was dark and insulated, effectively drowning out the lights and sounds of the carnival. Her hand reached out to touch the wall to keep her balance and keep her bearings, but she paused within a few steps.

  The sudden rush of fear and hesitation swept through her.

  Why am I following him? He darted off without so much as an explanation. I barely know him. I could turn around right now. No muss, no fuss. This is all so strange, so not me.

  The logic side of her was flaring with warning signals, urging her to leave this impulsive wayward guy behind. It was the side that she had always paid heed to in the past and that made her hesitate now. Obviously she had misread him, a fact that made her curse herself as well as him. He had totally played her and she’d let her emotions get in the way of seeing that.

  Yet…

  Then she remembered the beach and how she had felt falling into his eyes, the electric tingle of his touch, the way she had felt so at ease with him. Her heart overpowered her brain, burying her doubts. Dylan forged on into the darkness in search of the unknown.

  I need to find him.

  She slid her hand along the wooden wall and took each step carefully, aware of pitfalls and stumbles. She’d been through here before, so it wasn’t completely new, but it’d been a long time. She couldn’t recall how far this network of corridors lasted. In and around, to the left and the right, she made her way deeper into the building, trying to remember what she could about it. Finally, she rounded a turn and saw an open doorway that blazed with a sudden maroon illumination and a thick vinyl curtain.

  She fumbled the thick opaque rubber apart, stepped through and stopped on the other side. Dylan suddenly found herself bathed in the deathly pall of the red emergency lights. Mirrors stretched out on both sides of her and in front of her. The reflection at the far end stared back at her and she recognized the stressed, pensive look, although this one had a scarlet, ghastly tint to it. Outside the freakishly gigantic head in the mirror, it was the same expression she always wore before a big test.

  Listening intently to the shadows, she crept along one mirrored wall, trying to ignore the weird versions of herself she passed. One had a long torso with stout legs. Another showed her legs disappearing into her neck. Some were humorous, some hideous, all of them were distracting, so she tried to focus on her path.

  Dylan came to the end of the first, short corridor and was forced to make a decision: left or right. There was no logic here for her to fall back on. Left or right? She would go right if it was her, so that’s the way she turned.

  She came to another intersection and turned right again. One more and she switched it up, going left. It was maddening, just stumbling around like this, but she didn’t know what else to do. She could only keep going.

  At the fourth juncture, she stopped. There had to be a better way to go about this. Plus, she swore she had to be getting near the end unless she’d gotten turned around.

  Had she?

  She contemplated this and realized that she could hear the soft murmur of a conversation, even though she couldn’t hear the exact words. A few cautious steps and she recognized Jaron’s symphonic words and the deep voice of another man.

  Dylan eased herself closer, down the row of reflections.

  Jaron had never been in a place so alien or strange to him. There were hallways leading to and from even more hallways, all lined with these damned mirrors that showed these peculiar versions of him and made his progress perilous. Yet he continued on, brushing his unease aside. He was anxious to find his brother who had appeared so unexpectedly from his vanishing act. He had questions for him and he wanted answers.

  As if the fates had heard his wish, he rounded another corner and found his brother standing there in a circular room, awash in the pale light of the exit sign.

  “Hello, dear brother.” Julien’s voice greeted him. It wasn’t the greeting from a long lost sibling, though. His brother’s words held no warmth or love in them. They were distant and aloof, as if the pair of them was strangers, not brothers.

  “Julien.” Jaron replied warily. “It’s good to see you.”

  “And you.”

  Jaron moved farther into the room, but kept his distance. He still wasn’t sure what was going on, but he meant to find out.

  “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  “Well, I was in the mood for some cotton candy. Maybe take in a show, ride a few rides.” The tone was whimsical, almost mocking, and utterly unlike his brother, which only served to bring Jaron’s temper to the fore.

  “I have no time for your games, brother. Explain why you’re here and where you’ve been. How did you find me?” He asked, his voice rising. He took a few more steps to his left, which Julien matched to his right.

  “So impatient, little brother, as always.” Julien tsked. “I found you because I wanted to find you. It wasn’t exactly difficult. Once I knew Arden was here, it was a simple matter to uncover his intentions and follow him back to your little hidey hole. Remember I know where they all are, too.”

  At the mention of his father’s dead counsel, Jaron’s bre
ath hitched in his throat. His fists clenched at his sides tightly. “What do you know of Arden?”

  “I know he was an interfering goodie-good who had no independent thought beyond what Father put there.”

  Something clicked in Jaron’s head.

  “You…killed him?” Jaron inquired. He couldn’t believe his brother was capable of murder. He was cruel, sure, but killing someone?

  Julien laughed at the question. “Of course not, little brother. Kings and princes need not dirty themselves with such menial work. My followers took care of him for me.”

  Jaron reeled in shock at the revelation. “Followers?”

  Julien stared at Jaron in disbelief. “Wow. I mean, really, Arden wasn’t exactly forthcoming, but I was certain that Father would’ve guessed by now.”

  “Guessed what?”

  “I’m the leader of Rising Tide.”

  The words hit Jaron like a sledgehammer. What Marcus had told him, the murder of his father’s friend and advisor, the uprisings in his home, all that had been caused by this nascent movement. And his brother had been behind all of it.

  “How could you?” he asked, wanting to strike out at his brother, but still numb from the shock.

  “Do you not see the injustice, little brother?” He pointed towards the exit door. “Those people out there, they care only for their cars, their money, their…things without a thought to the damage they are doing to their world or ours. They are self-centered and selfish, refusing to be burdened by inconvenience. It was their indifference that destroyed Marianas. How many were killed? Injured? Because they were too indecisive. They didn’t want to be put out by doing the right thing and we suffered. We died.”

  “Julien, those people don’t even know of our existence.”

  “That’s a lame excuse. That’s Father’s excuse. I won’t give them that out. If our King won’t hold the surface accountable for their inaction, then I will.”

  Jaron watched his brother carefully. He could see the resolution on his face. There would be no reasoning with him, nothing he could say to change Julien’s course. There was only one thing he could do now: he needed to inform Marcus and Father of his brother’s betrayal.

  “You’re deluded, Julien.” He said and glanced over at the doorway a few feet away. He could be out the exit in a few seconds, quicker than his brother would have time to react.

  “Thinking about going somewhere? Maybe telling Father on me like a little boy?” Julien asked, seeing his brother’s eyes. Jaron froze in his tracks and watched his brother cock his head to the side for a moment, “You might want to rethink that action.”

  Before Jaron could ask what he meant, Julien dashed into the corridor beside him. He heard a strangled, sudden yelp and his brother re-emerged into the room with Dylan. He held her arm tightly up behind her back. Her face was scrunched up with pain.

  “Ah, look, the surface girl has made an appearance. Tell me, dear brother, what would Father think of your dalliances upside? Have you told her who you really are? What you really are?”

  Jaron refused to rise to his brother’s bait and didn’t answer. He did look into Dylan’s eyes and saw the confusion and hurt there. It made his heart fall to see her look at him like this.

  “Jaron?” His name quivered on her lips. “What is he talking about? Who is this?”

  “So, little brother, what will it be? Will you tell your little girlfriend who you truly are? Will you tell her what you are or would you prefer I show her?”

  Dylan’s eyes pleaded with Jaron’s. She was scared, but angry at the same time. Even moreso, she was confounded by what was happening to her.

  Jaron’s fists were clenched at his sides. His muscles were tensed, ready to pounce at this monster that had once been his brother, but he didn’t move, couldn’t move. Every assault he calculated would fail. No matter how fast he was, his brother was just as fast.

  “Well, Jaron, what will it be?”

  If he told this girl he was starting to fall for, he would betray everything and everyone he loved. There was one inescapable tenet to his homeland and that was to keep its secrets secret. Yet he couldn’t let his brother hurt her, not on his account.

  He looked into her eyes and felt himself falling into them again. He didn’t know what it was, what he felt. He just knew that he couldn’t let anything happen to her, even if it meant the ultimate betrayal.

  Jaron’s lips parted slightly and he began to speak.

  To Be Continued Soon in Atlantis Rising Part 2…Treading Water