Marik eyed the raised podium that stood in the center of the circular assembly. Opinions were presented in a counterclockwise rotation; beginning with whichever group arrived first. He eyed the two hundred representatives, separated into ten groups of twenty.
The emissary for each cluster was one of the members of the High Council, and though Marik was the emissary for Rogert’s group, they had been among the last to arrive.
He was relieved that Ni-Cio’s group had not convened first, because he didn’t want him swaying any more people than he already had. However, since anyone was permitted to address the Council, he wanted to prevent any intention Ni-Cio might have of taking the podium at the outset.
The general rule maintained that one person from each unit would be chosen to speak on behalf of the group. Marik had decided upon the first speaker, for he knew her well. Mer-An was not a particularly adept speaker, and although he didn’t think he had tried to sabotage the outcome, by the gods he would do what he could to keep peace and eject the threat from his home.
He saw Ni-Cio at the back of the crowd, leaning against one of the columns. Grim determination spread through Marik. He raised his arm and signaled Mer-An to the podium. Marik took his seat, but his heart quaked, as he knew that the opinions set forth in this convocation had the potential of tearing asunder the life of every person in Atlantis.
Ni-Cio’s heart hammered against his chest as though excavating its way out. Blood raced through his veins at such velocity that he felt his skin turn dark gold.
He ran a hand around the neck of his bioskin to loosen its hold, and it struck him that he had never given the intimate, life-sustaining garment a second thought. Now, his movements felt constrained as though a large python were tightening its grip around his chest.
Ni-Cio found it impossible to stand still. He wanted to steal the topsider away and take her to a place of safety. He felt so jumpy that he grasped the pillar next to him. With the strength and stability of the column steadying him, he felt a measure of control return. But his fear ratcheted again as Mer-An brushed by him.
She wound through the throng and approached the podium. Whispers skittered after her like grains of sand striking rock. She hesitated before the steps and pulled a deep breath into her lungs, then proceeded up the stairs to the dais.
Ni-Cio saw her knuckles whiten when she gripped the edges of the stand for support. Her dark, sea-green gaze flowed out over her friends and family like the sudden wash of a shoreline tide. The silence was profound. It was as though everyone held their breath collectively. Ni-Cio’s pulse bumped against his eardrums. And he realized that he, too, was holding his breath.
He was worried about Mer-An’s opening statement. He knew her well and he trusted her as a friend, and although she was what the topsiders referred to as a “tomboy,” Ni-Cio knew she had never liked speaking at Council. So, he couldn’t be sure what she would say or if she would buckle beneath the weight of popular opinion.
She began and her voice was timid, halting. “I do not think I can speak for our group. We are too divided on this issue for any one person to assume that responsibility.”
Variegated colors of uncertainty flickered over her soft features and her long fingers played over the smoothed edges of the podium. Ni-Cio was reminded of the rapid movements of an accomplished musician. He knew she was stalling in order to gather her thoughts. She looked down and her raven-colored hair fell forward, veiling her face in long, dark waves. Mer-An was silent for so long that Ni-Cio was afraid she wouldn’t go on. He wanted to help, but just as he thought he should go to her, she raised her head and the rich tones of her voice sailed through the Hall with true strength.
“The Canons have been law from the very moment Poseidon delivered them to Atlas. Cleaving to those laws enabled Atlantis to flourish into the mighty power it once was. When we were thrown into the fires of hell, the Canons gave us the strength to survive the ravages of that dark time. To this day, those very Canons continue to uphold the society that we have become.”
Her tone shifted in intensity, her eyes blazed and her fingers danced to a silent crescendo. “Without the Canons, we would have ceased to exist long ago. I realize that we, as a people, felt it necessary to enact other laws as our society changed and grew. However, this does not mean the original Canons should be ignored because of our inherent fear of topsiders!”
Dissent had been loosed. Voices erupted from every corner of the Hall so that Mer-An could no longer be heard. Ni-Cio was afraid that Marik would have to step in and take control, but Mer-An’s patience was at an end. She raised her arms and slammed both fists onto the rostrum. The noise reverberated through the room like the crack of breaking granite, and the crowd was immediately subdued.
“Hear me! Where is it written that the Edicts cannot be challenged? Have we become so closed-minded and frightened that we can no longer reason?
“Na-Kai has been our Most Sovereign Healer for three hundred and seventy-seven years! Does this mean nothing? She nurtures us with her wise counsel. She heals us when we sicken. How many lives has she saved through no efforts of your own? And yet you would not even wait to hear the motive that dictates her actions? If nothing else, give Na-Kai the benefit of the doubt. Do not make your decision until we know why she harbors the topsider. We owe her that much!”
Ni-Cio pushed away from the pillar to survey the throng, and though Mer-An’s arguments had been well said, he couldn’t tell how many people had been affected enough for the “aye” vote needed to save the topsider. He rubbed the back of his neck to try and release the tension.
Mer-An turned and left the podium. Marik rose from his place on the dais and addressed the assembly. “Would any other speak from Mer-An’s group?”
Ni-Cio let his breath leak out through clenched teeth and edged closer to see if anyone would come forward. Before the Council Leader could continue, the frantic sounds of sudden movement behind him created a disturbance that would not be denied.
Ennael, Atlantis’s normally reticent composer, forced his way through the packed hall in order to gain access to the podium. The man barged up the stairs and grabbed both sides of the lectern. His voice reflected the strident tempo of his fear, and Ni-Cio knew without a doubt that his fright would infect others. He prepared to intervene.
“How can you let Mer-An sway you so easily? Of course Na-Kai has tended us. She is the embodiment of that revered title, Most Sovereign Healer. It is not by choice that she ministers to us. It is an obligation that befalls anyone who holds that designation. And what binds a person to perform those duties? The Canons! The laws are specific to our society and our needs. The Third Canon states, ‘No matter the form, all life is held sacred.’ Is it not true that all Healers hold life sacred anyway?”
Marik started to interrupt, but Ennael refused to acknowledge his upraised hand. The composer’s words flooded the room with the force of a gathering storm. “When Poseidon handed the original eight laws to Atlas, the third law was superseded by the first law which states, ‘As children of Poseidon, you are granted the paradise that is Atlantis. In the purity of your actions will it remain thus.’ Poseidon knew then that the bloodlines had to be protected. Is there anyone who is ignorant of the consequences of transgressing that law?”
No one, not even Ni-Cio moved a muscle, and no one needed to be reminded.
“Over time, we have had to create other, more precise laws. The Edict of Non-Intervention strictly forbids participation in the actions of Terrans. The topsider was trying to kill herself. She was going to die!”
Ni-Cio flinched.
Ennael raised his arm and pointed a shaking finger straight at him. “Ni-Cio brought this person among us, and it was Na-Kai’s foremost responsibility to uphold that Edict. Even though we hold life sacred, we must protect ourselves first! Ni-Cio is the one who intervened. Ni-Cio is the one who prevented the topsider’s death, and it is Ni-Cio who must put her out at depth and let this travesty be done!”
&n
bsp; Before the reverberations from Ennael’s impassioned outcry could die down, the grisly words Ni-Cio had fervently hoped to avoid circled from every side.
“At depth!”
“At depth!”
He vaulted from the granite pillar and thrust his way through the shouting, gesticulating mob of Atlanteans and flew up the stairs to the podium. The shift of opinion had swung to support Ennael. If Ni-Cio couldn’t do something, Daria would have no chance, and it wouldn’t matter if Poseidon himself returned to defend the actions taken by himself and Na-Kai.
Ni-Cio stepped around Ennael as the other man left the podium. Ni-Cio raised his hands for quiet, but no one paid any heed. The tumult had become so loud, even the explosion of his shouted words couldn’t stem the tide.
The noise was deafening, and Ni-Cio’s horror mounted as he watched the fires of hate, fanned by Ennael, burst into a conflagration. He continued to shout and wave his arms in a furious bid for order, but no one paid him any attention. So, Ni-Cio was the only one to behold Na-Kai’s arrival when she and the topsider penetrated the archway into the Council Hall.
Daria knew she had to face the High Council, but the angry noise that assaulted her entire being made her legs shake so much that she didn’t think they would support her. She followed Na-Kai through the archway and placed each foot with determined care and concentrated precision. With one false step, she felt she would be in a heap on the floor. She could imagine the outraged mob falling upon her like a pack of slavering wolves.
Her gaze bounced around the assembly like a crazed ping-pong ball until it chanced upon the man standing on the podium.
He waved his muscular arms in a wild arc, and hair that had been secured flew about his face in ragged, raven-colored strands. He moved with the explosive power of a swimmer/warrior and it seemed to Daria that he was responsible for the bedlam that had been loosed.
She could not, however, look away. For some odd reason, she felt drawn to him. Why? She had no idea, but the thought scared her almost more than the angry, shouting Atlanteans did.
The man turned to spur the crowd further, and froze. His purple eyes locked onto hers. Blazing with an emotion so intense, his stare seared her soul.
“How can he hate me that much without even knowing me?” She shifted uneasily and tried to place her guardian between herself and that man. Feeling violated by his stare, her heart pounded in her chest and her breath caught in her throat. The Atlantean lowered his arms, looking more dangerous than anyone she had ever seen. Her insides turned to ice and her heart stammered to a stop. “If he could, he would attack me right now.” Confused and frightened beyond anything she had ever imagined, Daria grabbed Na-Kai’s hand. She wanted with every atom in her body to turn and run the other way.
The man, however, chose that moment to relinquish his position. He left the stand and melted into the crowd. Daria willed her feet to move. She and Na-Kai continued the interminable walk to the dais.
Inching forward through the swell of bodies, Na-Kai hesitated and turned back to Daria. She felt the comfort of the Healer’s strong embrace circle her waist. Na-Kai brought her lips next to Daria’s ear. “We will get through this. I certainly thought more of them would be willing to give me audience before condemning what they do not understand, but their fear runs deeper than their need for reasoning. Do not forget to breathe, and follow me up the stairs. All will be well.”
Daria’s lips quivered and her voice failed, so she just gave a curt nod and tried to inhale. Na-Kai resumed her lead and Daria followed. Halfway up the stairs, Daria’s legs started to give way and she tripped on the hem of her robes, almost falling to the ground. She grabbed the handrail and fumbled her robes out of the way. The noise level dropped to an expectant hush. All eyes turned to watch as they presented themselves before the High Council.
Na-Kai faced Marik and bowed. For a few moments, no one stirred. Then, the Council Leader placed both hands on the arms of his chair and rose. The two most prominent members of the Atlantean hierarchy regarded each other with wary respect. “Na-Kai, you join us not a moment too soon. You probably already know that there is not much dissension in relation to the threat present among us.”
Na-Kai inclined her head toward the Council Leader. “As I anticipated, Marik.”
“We have not taken it to a vote, however, at this time, the High Council recognizes no need. The overwhelming feeling is apparent. The will of the majority must be upheld.” Marik’s ultimatum was met with a nervous murmur of approval, and from the back of the hall, the chant began.
“At depth! At depth!”
Before the room could once again erupt, Na-Kai held her arms up for quiet. The outcry waned, but Ennael propelled himself through the crowd and once again charged the podium. His skin was flushed an ugly purplish-brown color, almost like a bruise. It was evident that he was nearly sick with fear and rage. He raised his arm and pointed at Daria, making her cringe.
“You should never have been brought here! You have no idea how many laws have been shattered in order to give shelter to one such as yourself.” His voice escalated, and he punctuated each statement with a slash of his hand. “We are not without justification in keeping our lives hidden from topsiders. We have seen how you treat each other, your environment, yourselves. We want nothing to do with you. You are a plague to us!”
Waves of antipathy and fear poured from Ennael so that Daria could no longer move. She wanted to yell a denial, but her fear rooted her to the stage. People began to stamp their feet in time to the chant, and she felt each percussive shock as it pounded up through the stage and into her body. Her belief in Na-Kai became her only basis in reality and Daria clung to that reality with every ounce of courage she possessed. With her head high, she focused on an empty point at the back of the hall and waited as the chants crescendoed.
“At depth! At depth!”
The roar gathered so much force that it felt to Daria as if she was in the midst of a hailstorm. Noise pummeled her from every direction, and her body shook so hard that her teeth clattered. The Atlanteans were out of control, and she knew that her life would see a violent end. Wild-eyed, she cast about for a way to flee the fury. Nothing was worth this, but Na-Kai’s calm reassurance settled into her mind. “Peace…be still…it is almost done…”
Daria became removed from herself and watched the incensed mob gather for action. Angry hands surged forth to rend her from the dais. Before anyone could so much as touch the hem of her robe, however, Na-Kai eva Evenor, Most Sovereign Healer of Atlantis, descendant of Poseidon, god of the oceans, interceded.
With a sound that seemed to split the air, Na-Kai released a telekinetic thought-form never before seen on land or underwater, by any being, living or dead. The Atlanteans were hit with such tremendous force that everyone, even those outside the Council Hall, were instantly immobilized.
It was as though everyone but Na-Kai and Daria had been caught in suspended animation. Not one muscle twitched. Not one sound was uttered. Throughout the sunken province, the turbulent movements of an entire society had come to an immediate halt. The silence that surged through Atlantis was almost more frightening than the prior unrestrained disorder.
Na-Kai took Daria’s hand and guided her from behind her protective intervention. Tremors raced through Daria’s rigid body. She stared at the paralyzed assembly but tried to keep her face impassive. She didn’t let her gaze wander either left or right. She was terrified to move, for fear of starting another riot. She squeezed a question past unmoving lips, and Na-Kai leaned closer in order to hear. “What did you do, Na-Kai? Are they dead?”
Na-Kai snorted and released Daria’s hand. “Hardly. In what should have been an orderly exchange of opinions, I find this mob behavior untenable. Therefore, I loosed a telekinetic thought-form that has captured their undivided attention. Once I have been heard, I will release them. Even so, I cannot hold them indefinitely. Let us proceed.”
The Healer faced the members of the High Counci
l. “I speak to you now while my thoughts transfer to those outside the Council Hall. You bear witness to a type of thought-form we have been forbidden to use from a time before I can remember. The only people among us who have been aware this power exists have been the Healers. Although the knowledge of this ability was passed down through the ages, its use was forbidden because of the lethal potential for misuse.”
Na-Kai faced the mute assembly. “None have dared exercise this potent energy, nor has its power been needed until our time. I have employed this force twice. Once today to control the unrestrained riot you would have let yourselves become. And again…” Na-Kai hesitated.
She wavered in her stance, and Daria saw that she had been assailed by a weakness. Her eyes looked as though she could fall asleep. Daria thought Na-Kai would be unable to continue. She moved next to the Healer, and held her up with her own strength. “Na-Kai, are you all right?”
Na-Kai sent a quick thought to Daria. “The thought-form used up much of my energy…I am heartened by your love and strength…do not worry child, all is well…”
Na-Kai pulled Daria closer and took a steadying breath. Her words and thoughts reached every soul in Atlantis. “The only other time I have availed myself of this explosive force was in a desperate attempt to save your lives.
“I stand before you with Daria Caiden, a direct descendant of Kai-Dan eva Evenor. She is the only person I have found who exhibits signs of the healing power. I offer the only person to follow after me as your Most Sovereign Healer. Look upon your savior!”
Na-Kai suddenly released her hold on everyone. Expecting another outburst, Daria was shocked that no one moved and not one word was spoken. Curious looks darted over some of the upraised faces, but most of the people just stared.
Tides of Change Page 6
