Tides of Change

by Susan MacIver

  Jagged black streaks stippled Ni-Cio’s skin. He willed the biosphere to advance. Peltor knew the fury that blazed inside his friend, but when he discerned his intent he broke into the charged silence. “Ni-Cio, we cannot follow them. You were adamant when you gave the order not to go topside. It was wise to issue that mandate and we would do well to abide by it.”

  Ni-Cio’s voice was hoarse with suppressed rage. He pointed at the Oceanus, and Peltor could see that his fingers trembled. “We almost had him, Peltor. By the gods, he was right there! Even now, we can take him!”

  Peltor placed a hand on shoulders wound tighter than springs, and he tried to inject some measure of calm. “Ni-Cio, no. We must go back and inform the others. We know which island he is on. It is only right to inform the High Council and determine what course of action we must initiate, if any.”

  Ni-Cio gasped, and his voice was thick with wrath, “He nearly killed the woman I love more than life itself!”

  Peltor dared not utter another word. Wisely he waited for Ni-Cio’s anguish to subside. Ni-Cio swung his gaze back toward the empty docks, and the menace that filled his next words made Peltor quake. “It is not over between us, Travlor. I swear by all the gods, you will face retribution, and it will be in this lifetime!”

  Ni-Cio slammed the biosphere forward and jetted from the harbor at tremendous speed. Peltor glanced over his shoulder and saw that the sudden displacement of water had caused a dark swell to lift from the becalmed sea. A rogue wave raced shoreward and flared to batter angrily against the vacant docks.

  “I can walk.” Evan yanked his body from Travlor’s grasp. He felt disgusted by the physical contact and wiped his hands over his shirt. He heard his father sniff.

  “It would not seem so.”

  Evan walked to the rental car. His lone shadow played over the pavement, but he noticed that Travlor gradually relaxed his camouflage. Color leached into his body like fluid poured into a glass.

  Once Travlor became more visible, Evan saw no hint of the enormity of years that hung upon him. His equal in height, Travlor walked with purpose and vigor. His angular build, just this side of thin, suggested a hidden power that could explode at will. Evan considered his coloring just a hue below normal, however, it was not enough to attract undue attention. His shoulder-length hair reminded Evan of iron filings left too long in the dust, with illusions of black surreptitiously appearing among the gray. The man exuded such an air of superiority that Evan regarded him with careful awe. He struggled against the terrible spell that Travlor inspired and countered with a quick verbal jab. “I thought you didn’t want to be found. Jumping out of the submersible and grabbing me isn’t what I would call circumspect.”

  Travlor stopped. He turned to stare at Evan and his reply dripped with sarcasm. “I find that you irritate me. It is because of your lack of concentration that they were able to locate the submarine. Obviously, they suspected something, or they would not have bothered. I have been controlled by Atlantis for far too long to put up with any more waiting games.” He took Evan’s arm and urged him forward. “As the point is moot, let us find rest. We have much to accomplish in order to meet the goals I have laid forth.”

  They reached the car and Evan opened the passenger door. Travlor slid onto the seat. A sound assaulted Evan’s ears that might have been a laugh, but sounded more like a screech, “Besides, they would never have come on land. They are ignorant of Terran ways and would stand out like sore thumbs.”

  Evan felt like a scared child. He slammed the car door to block the sound of Travlor’s gloating and let his gaze wander over the moon-dappled landscape. He took his time. He needed a moment before he slid next to Travlor again. He sighed, “Daria, somehow I will find a way to help you.”

  He shook his head and let that thought create the impetus he needed. He rounded the car, opened the door and lowered himself onto the seat. He inserted the key, but before he started the engine, he turned and directed his attention to the stranger who was his father. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the steering wheel. “I realize you have your goals and you know that I’m willing to help. But you have to understand, if they are holding Daria against her will, it is imperative that we get her out as soon as possible.”

  He saw steel in the profile outlined from the glow of the interior lights and continued, “I don’t want her down there any longer than necessary. God only knows what they will do to her.”

  “Do not trouble yourself about the topsider. She figures largely into my plans. I will not rest until her release.” Travlor blinked like a sun sleepy reptile and with a weary sigh, sank back into the leather seat. He did not deign to look at Evan.

  The words did nothing to assuage Evan’s fears. But at this juncture, he knew that he had no choice. He had to follow Travlor down the path that was beginning to unwind. Like thunderheads cresting over a blackened horizon, the premonition of disaster he had suppressed until now began its slow, ominous build.

  Ni-Cio and Peltor burst into the subdued hall. The other teams had convened to await their arrival and had been fed. Everyone was tired and wanted to go to their families, but Ni-Cio and Peltor needed to refresh themselves and they did not turn down the food that was offered. Seated at a table, Ni-Cio could tell that the mood was somber almost to the point of defeat. The reddish hues on Peltor’s face reflected his own agitation, but he listened as Marik stood to address the assembly.

  “First, I congratulate all of you. The search was conducted very well.”

  Ni-Cio knew that the Council Leader was trying to buoy their disappointment. However, since Marik elicited no response from anyone, he continued, “I must remind you that nothing like this has ever occurred during your lifetime. Do not be so hard on yourselves, especially you, Ni-Cio. We had no reason to suspect that Travlor was capable of such actions. That you acted so quickly gave us the only chance we had of capturing him.” Still no response. Marik shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands, palms up. “We know where he is. That is extremely favorable.”

  Rogert, ever the pragmatist, rose. “What are we to do about it? We cannot go topside. We would never be able to blend, no matter the subterfuge.”

  Aris spoke up, “We cannot monitor him because he hides his thoughts.”

  Peltor looked up from his plate, “Only the gods know what he is up to.”

  Detesting his people’s general feeling of helplessness, Marik tried to elevate the mood. “We may not need to know his intentions. That he has fled Atlantis would lead me to believe he is glad to be rid of us. It could be that we will never encounter him again.”

  Ni-Cio thrust his plate aside and stood, his chair clattering against the stone floor. He scanned the room. His anger found voice, “That is a naïve presumption! Does anyone truly feel that Travlor poses no more threat to us?”

  He walked to the dais and turned to face the tired teams. “Because of his obsessive need to leave Atlantis, the man very nearly killed Daria. We lost Na-Kai too early and yes, Travlor hides his thoughts, but somehow, he has found an ally who was able to breach Atlantis and help him escape. If we do not concern ourselves with this matter, I feel there will be grave repercussions. It is a matter of such import that none of us should rest until we have apprehended this monster. And damn the consequences of going topside!”

  Cries of assent clamored against the protests.

  Ni-Cio waited for quiet. “I know that events seem as though they have spiraled out of control, and that the tranquility with which we have lived unravels. But it is the first time in living memory that we, as a people, have had anything to fear.”

  Marik flushed striations of blue. The truth of Ni-Cio’s words could not be denied. “What do you propose?”

  Before Ni-Cio could respond, Kyla entered the western portal, Daria by her side. She still looked quite fragile and she clung to Kyla’s arm for support, but she carried herself with an imposing air. Her confidence in her position and her feeling of belonging was beginning to manifest
itself.

  Kyla walked slowly, allowing Daria to catch her breath. People parted to make way. Daria’s gaze swept over the crowd. Finding Ni-Cio, she smiled. Ni-Co didn’t know how it was possible, but she was even more radiant than he remembered. He watched with love and admiration as Daria made her way to the base of the dais.

  She faced the gathering and her apprehension was evident. The clear tones of her voice, although weak, sailed through the assembly. “Ni-Cio is correct in his assessment of Travlor. However, even he doesn’t know the peril that Travlor represents. As much as I don’t want to acknowledge it, I have to say that you, we, can no longer live as if nothing can touch this blessed world. If we do that and bury our heads in the sand, then all our lives are endangered.”

  Fear flashed across people’s faces but no one spoke. They waited for their Healer to continue.

  “It is highly improbable that any of you could find Travlor and bring him back to Atlantis without topsiders becoming aware of your existence. You cannot hope to walk topside with impunity. The colors that camouflage you so well in Poseidon’s domain would be your undoing on Terros, and Travlor will stay topside until such time as he feels compelled to return.”

  Daria looked at Ni-Cio as though seeking his strength. He sent her a loving thought, then nodded for her to continue. She inclined her head just slightly and looked out over the Atlanteans. “You have been surrounded by such peace that Travlor’s nature is probably incomprehensible. But he is more dangerous than you can possibly imagine. He will return, and when he does, we must be ready.”

  Startled reactions writhed through the Hall with the speed of a cracked bullwhip.

  “Ready? What does she mean?”

  “What should we do? What can we possibly do?”

  “We should at least try to bring him back!”

  “How has Travlor come to this? Surely he would not harm us.”

  “I say we get him whether or not we are discovered!”

  “What is the danger of leaving well enough alone?”

  “How can she know with any degree of certainty that Travlor will be back?”

  Above the increasing din of questions, conjecture and panic, Kyla raised her voice and shouted, “Know this! Our Most Sovereign Healer is gifted with foreknowledge!”

  Silence blanketed the room and Daria shifted, somewhat embarrassed. “I wouldn’t call it foreknowledge, exactly, it’s just, well, sometimes I have these feelings and as far back as I can remember, these premonitions or feelings or whatever have always served me well. But I can understand if you don’t believe me.”

  Ni-Cio could tell that Daria had reached the edge of her strength. He hurried to her side, wrapped his arm around her waist and held her. He signaled Peltor to retrieve a chair, which Daria gratefully accepted.

  Ni-Cio spoke for everyone, “You misunderstand, my love. No one doubts your ability, but you keep mystifying us with your gifts. That you have come to us at our hour of need is more than apparent.” He knelt by her side and enfolded her hands with a loving touch. He pitched his voice for her only, “The meeting will conclude very soon, do you grow overly tired? If so, I will take you back to your chambers.”

  She stroked the side of his cheek and traced the lines at the corners of his eyes. She looked at him with concern, “I’m well enough to finish. We must come to a resolution. It’s imperative.”

  He studied her for a moment, then nodded abruptly and stood to face his friends, “Marik, put it to vote. Travlor is a threat that must be reckoned with.”

  Marik surveyed the assembly and came forward to announce his decision, “To a person, all feel that Travlor poses a significant and imminent danger. However, in the minds of a few, there is lingering doubt as to whether anything could or should be done. Because these are questions that must be resolved, we will meet again on the morrow.”

  Marik crossed the stage and bent to address Daria, proving his high regard for her abilities. “How soon should we anticipate Travlor’s return?”

  “No sooner than one month. No longer than three.” Her reply created an audible gasp from all that had crowded around.

  The Council Leader looked stunned, but he stood and made his announcement. “We are adjourned. Go, take your rest and more needed refreshment. Look to your families. Tomorrow, be prepared to come to resolution. It is of paramount importance that we reach a decision as to how we react to this menace.”

  Daria resolutely rejected Ni-Cio’s offer of transport. She knew she had to continue to gain strength, and the only way to do that was to put one foot in front of the other. However, she was still weak enough that she stood between Ni-Cio and Kyla, and let them escort her back to her chambers. They strolled leisurely, but in an added effort to conserve her fragile strength, no one offered conversation.

  Everyone was glad for the respite that the coming night promised. Walking toward Daria’s quarters, they saw tiny pinpoints of light beginning to shine from darkened cavern ceilings. Like stars in midnight skies, they twinkled, signaling the end of a traumatic day. Moonlight fell onto walkways and a whispered sonata drifted on the night air. Their softened footfalls lent a subdued syncopation to the enchanting melody, and Daria leaned her head against Ni-Cio’s arm. A sleepy hush descended upon Atlantis.

  As Ni-Cio and Daria drew closer to her chambers, the unfulfilled passion between them stirred. A sensual tango of unspoken love mingled with the music of the nighttime quiet. Their heightened feelings swirled between them like the luxurious scent of warmed perfume.

  Kyla laid her hand on Ni-Cio’s arm when the sound of footsteps echoed off the tunnel walls. They turned at Aris’s approach. A look of worry was evident on his comely face. He was a study in seriousness, “Kyla, has Mer-An received her nourishment today?”

  Before Kyla could respond, Mer-An’s tender, mocking laugh sighed through everyone’s mind.

  “Kyla has seen to my needs very well…leave her to attend Daria…all I require is you, Aris…”

  The Atlantean flushed a deep rose, and traces of dark purple ringed his eyes and colored his lips. Everyone’s laughter mixed, witnessing Aris’s rapid need to depart at war with his elegant manners. Ni-Cio ended his dilemma. He elbowed his friend in the ribs. “Unless you intend to dine with us, I would say your ministrations are requested elsewhere.”

  A luminous smile spread across Aris’s face and lit his dark eyes. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, winked at his friends, did an about-face and departed in such haste it seemed that he had sprouted wings. The sounds of his joyful exuberance followed him until he disappeared from sight.

  Their soft laughter continued as they entered the walled gardens leading to Daria’s quarters. Kyla paused, “I believe I will decline your generous invitation for dinner tonight. I am tired from the stress of the day. Daria is progressing very well and it would be better for you to spend the time together. Besides, I feel like a squeaky wheel.”

  Daria laughed. Kyla’s misplaced attempts at interpreting topsider slang were especially endearing, “I think you mean a third wheel.”

  “Exactly.”

  Ni-Cio started to protest, but Daria interrupted. She loosened her hold on Kyla’s hand and hugged her friend. “Thank you, Kyla. Take heart, your time is near.”

  Their gazes met and held, and Daria let the willowy Atlantean behold the truth in her eyes. Without another word, Kyla smiled at her beloved brother, kissed Daria on the cheek and took her leave. They watched until her shadow merged into night.

  Daria sighed and turned to enter her chambers. Ni-Cio followed. She walked to the waterwall, ran a finger through the crystal water, and then turned to face Ni-Cio. “It’s hard to be alone while those around you find love.” Her heart contracted when a look of disquiet crossed Ni-Cio’s features. She took a step toward him, “Do not fret, my heart. I don’t think she will be alone much longer.”

  Daria’s worries were suddenly forgotten. Passion so intense blazed into Ni-Cio’s violet eyes that it ignited a response
deep within her soul. Her breath deserted her. In a single stride, they met in a fierce embrace. Hungrily received into each other, their kiss was long and searching and deep. Their bodies melded together and the fire that burned between them caused any more thoughts of Kyla, of dinner, of outside threats to disappear.

  The only moment that existed was the breath they shared and the world they created with their love.

  The morning sun blinked a lazy eye over the watery horizon. The first tentacles of light crawled across the sleeping island, sending night shadows in search of their own repose. Through the open windows of Evan’s room, filmy streaks of yellow light snuck over twisted bed covers to rest tentatively upon his tired face. In sleep, the worries that permeated his waking moments had found little relief. Dream-haunted visions prickled disjointedly through his mind and turned his restful slumber into a determined effort to keep his eyes closed.

  Travlor had risen and tended to his morning ablutions, the sounds of which could be heard through the thin walls of the adjoining room.

  Evan stirred and gave up any pretense of sleep. He stretched and sat up. Massaging the aching muscles of his neck, he tried to loosen the knots that dammed the flow of blood to his brain. He knew that Travlor would be full of plans and counter-plans, and he felt ill prepared to handle his schemes.

  A crisp knock on his door signaled that the day had started. Feeling sluggish, Evan rose to admit the person who had swept events into his life that were entirely out of his control. It was as though he was trapped in a flood with no lifeline, no hope and no chance of rescue. Never before had he felt so helpless. His temples throbbed. He reluctantly opened the door to the man who seemed to hold his fate in clawed, gray hands. He shuddered at the mechanical rasp of Travlor’s speech. It seemed to pierce his eardrums.

  “You are slow to rise. Wash the sleep from your face and let us break our fast. I am famished.” A wicked light glinted from hooded black eyes and the ghost of a malevolent smile flitted across cruel lips.