by Starla Night
The raft fully deflated and panicked splashing broke the calm lagoon’s surface. Their supplies dispersed and the crowbar fell to the cavern floor.
“Please let me assist the humans,” Ciran said. “Both are injured, and one is not used to shifting.”
Konomelu vibrated loudly without looking, “Nuno? Trainees? Help the humans.”
The young fry converged on the women.
Konomelu popped his trident out of his elbow and gripped the long metal rod. “Where are you from, really?”
“I am from Atlantis.”
“Why did you tell me Undine?” Itime asked, casually, as if he didn’t care about the answer.
“On the plane? I did not bother to correct you because there was little time. King Kadir found the ancient wreckage and is rebuilding the platform to unite humans with mer.”
Both warriors regarded him skeptically.
The continued splashing wore on Ciran. “Have you listened at no echo points?”
“We do not care about the opinions of the weak All-Council,” Konomelu sneered. “Atlantis is a myth. Your honor markings are Undine.”
“And? Your honor markings are Luscan.”
Konomelu lifted his chin proudly. “We are the only true warriors of Lusca left.”
“Be that as it may, if you had listened at any of the echo points, you would know of Atlantis. We seek mainland brides. Uniting us is Dannika’s mission.”
“And that is why you were flying in a human’s metal bird?” Itime asked. His flat vibrating tone was disinterested.
“Yes.”
The splashing sound continued unabated. Through gaps in the crowd of young fry, Val’s legs and feet appeared. She treaded water, keeping her head above the surface, but her movements were jerky and weak. Her soul light, already dim, blackened with fear.
She was going to drown. “Will you not let me help my pilot?”
“Trainees?” Konomelu roared without looking. “Help the humans to the land.”
They wiggled in aimless motions.
“I know what it sounds like.” Ciran rested his empty hands on his chest, the buttoned shirt fabric bunching oddly beneath the water. “Five years ago, I would not have believed it. But the ocean has changed. Atlantis has been founded, queens have returned, and—”
“Queens?” Konomelu’s brows and lips twisted and then he burst out laughing. “You tell us Atlantis has queens? With their impossible powers? Ha ha! This must be some Undine strategy.”
“If your goal is confusion, it works well.” The tip of Itime’s trident never wavered from Ciran’s direction. “Because I cannot fathom why you would make such claims.”
“Where were the queens hiding? Did you unearth them in the wreckage? Ha ha ha. Did they arise from the blacknight sea, or the deepest trench? Ha ha. Oh and did the All-Council welcome them?”
“No,” Ciran said.
“What is next?” Konomelu ignored him, still chuckling. “Yes. I know. A queen will bear a female mer.”
“That has happened.”
“While warriors walk among humans. I suppose whales now soar through the night sky and birds swim in the trenches. Ha ha ha ha.”
Ciran could float here and debate with them for hours.
But Val was still treading water, and her head dipped below the surface. “Hey, my pilot—”
“Trainees?” Konomelu half-turned away from Ciran to vibrate at the young fry. “Why have you not helped the humans?”
“We can’t,” Hadali vibrated plaintively.
“Huh?” Konomelu fully turned. “What? Why not?”
“Because…I don’t know.” Hadali pointed at Dannika, who’d shifted and now floated in the middle of their crowd. “She’s gone all glowy.”
Dannika’s eyes were closed. White light glowed from her fingertips, and a see-through, bubble-like glowing shield formed around her and Val. It extended from the surface to beneath their feet and stopped at the rock wall behind them.
Ciran’s chest lifted.
It was always awe-inspiring to see a queen use her powers. The light glowed with the energy of the Life Tree, and it reflected Dannika’s bright, caring soul.
And to see Dannika use it after just a few hours…it proved that they belonged together. She was a mer. Not just a mer, a queen.
She had tapped into their love, believed in it, and now the power of the Life Tree flowed through her.
His chest ached.
Konomelu and Itime tucked their weapons and joined the rest of the young fry encircling the shield, their interrogation forgotten. Ciran paced them.
Val finally hugged the rock wall behind her. She rested with her head above water.
Dannika held the shield steady, a serene expression on her face.
One of the rascally young fry brothers who had caused so much trouble outside the cave entrance backed up. “Watch this.”
“Wait,” Itime said.
He zoomed forward and bounced off the shield. The water echoed with his giggles. The shield glowed, unperturbed, energy cycling across Dannika’s fingers and then out again to the bubble-like shield.
The other young fry eagerly followed suit, and they all bounced off, one after another, laughing and whooping.
Konomelu hesitantly reached out and touched the shield. “What strange magic is this?”
“That,” Ciran said, “is a queen’s power.”
Konomelu’s mouth moved, but no vibration or sound emerged. Awe and an aching hope filled his face.
Itime regarded it solemnly, and his soul light brightened. Unlike fluctuating humans, a warrior controlled his soul light so it rarely changed. It didn’t show on his face, but he was deeply moved.
“I am Ciran of Atlantis.” He rested his hands on the shield, causing Dannika’s eyes to open and fix on him. She released the shield. “And this is my bride, the newest queen of Atlantis, Dannika.”
Chapter Twelve
Dannika knew the instant Ciran approached her. When he touched the shield, she felt him in her soul, and his puffed chest filled her with the same incredible serenity.
She’d done it.
She’d overcome the fears that had stabbed her with a thousand anxious needles when their raft had surged into the dark cavern and popped, and then the strange shadowy motions not-quite seen beneath the sinking raft.
Val had clutched her duffel and elixir to her chest. “I feel like I’m about to be eaten by piranhas. Ciran better come back soon.”
But he hadn’t come back.
Dannika had sat in the chilly pool of water seeping into their raft thinking all the worst things.
He might be dead. He might have been attacked. He might be fighting for his life right now.
And that had snapped her out of it. Because if he was fighting for his life, the last thing she’d want to do was distract him. She’d closed her eyes and concentrated on being useful. Strong. Protecting him. Protecting Val.
“We’re sinking. Oh, lord. We’re going down. We’re going under,” Val had cried. “Dannika?”
She’d opened her eyes long enough to say, “It’s okay, Val. I’m a mer now. I can breathe underwater.”
“Good for you.” Val had wiggled toward a distant rocky ledge. “I might…almost…make it if something doesn’t get me.”
“Okay. I’ll protect you from the piranhas.”
“What?”
Dannika had released her air, descended into the middle of, well, honestly it was a lot of thrashing fins and skinny boy limbs, and quite a few squids.
Between their bodies, she caught glimpses of Ciran chatting with Itime and another adult. He’d been explaining something and didn’t look concerned. So, the danger was over.
And anyway, the kids hadn’t seemed to mean her harm, but she’d promised to protect Val. So she’d closed her eyes and focused on protecting.
And a deep, peaceful calm had filled her.
Her chest had filled with Ciran. His presence, his confidence in her, his intense love.
&nb
sp; Her fingers had tingled.
“Dannika?” Val’s voice had echoed through the water into her ears. “Did you find the flashlight? The water’s a little... Hey! Go, uh, toward the rock ledge. I can, uh…glug…cough…I can almost reach it.”
And then she’d heard just vibrations of the youths until Ciran’s announcement. She’d opened her eyes. The awe of two adult warriors and a full soccer team of youths had helped the tingling sensations to drain away, the light from her fingers had dissipated.
This is my bride, the newest queen of Atlantis.
Which was awesome, but the queens of Atlantis knew how to control their powers. Dannika pinched her fingers together. She’d done it. Somehow. And now her fingers felt ordinary again.
Ciran drew her to his side, and she melted against him. He was whole and vital beneath her fingers. No new scars. Her fears had been for nothing.
“Will you help us?” a fierce orange-tattooed warrior Ciran introduced as Konomelu asked her. “With such a shield, we could fly to Lusca and confront the king himself without harm.”
“I’ll try.” She nestled against Ciran. “First, I really need to call my assistant and let her know I survived.”
Konomelu and Itime exchanged glances.
“And then if I could get a shower, maybe a little bite to eat, and a nap, then I’ll be at my full fighting strength.”
“Fighting? You are a warrior?” Konomelu asked.
“No. Sorry. I, um…” No open-door policy. “I’ll be ready to help, I mean.”
“If she could use this power in battle,” Konomelu said to Itime and smacked a fist against his palm. “We would be unstoppable.”
“A very formidable opponent,” the cornflower-blue warrior agreed.
“My queen has requested your help,” Ciran reminded them.
Konomelu’s enthusiasm calmed and he vibrated a rueful tone. “We have no ability to contact the mainland. Our brides have tried many times. As to the other things, yes, we can provide them. Come. Meet our brides.”
He swam to the rock ledge where Val had disappeared and stopped. Opening his arms and with a twinkling smile, he formally intoned, “Welcome to Sanctuary.”
The tingling sensation washed over her body again. Somehow, it was right that she was here. I am meant to be here. She brushed her fingertips over her chest and then rested them on Ciran’s forearm. He looked down at her with a question. Whatever she had sensed, he didn’t seem to share it.
Hmm.
He instead lifted her from the water, setting her on the ledge and jumping out. His fins shrank and folded into human feet. His shorts and shirt slapped his body.
Her caftan stretched and dripped. She opened her mouth in case that somehow helped the water drain, waited until she couldn’t stand it, and then took a breath.
Water gurgled in her lungs.
She rolled onto her hands and knees and threw it up.
Ugh.
Her body convulsed, and she coughed so hard she was afraid to burst a vessel. Somehow, her second shift was much harder than the first.
Ciran knelt at her side and stroking her hair back from her face. She rested her head on his powerful knee and concentrated on breathing. Air in, droplets out. The other warriors and youths pattered effortlessly around her, already chatting and squealing. Their excited noises echoed in the beautiful lagoon. It was so unfair.
“Hey.” A woman about Dannika’s age with East Asian features and kind brown eyes offered her a coconut shell half-filled with water. “This is going to sound weird, seeing as you just puked out half the lagoon, but I think you should have a drink. It’ll make you feel better.”
Dannika took the cup and swirled it. There weren’t any parasites in Caribbean freshwater, right? Oh, maybe they had a filter. She sipped it.
Ciran grunted in surprise. “You have elixir?”
“Elixir?” the woman repeated.
“Healing elixir. Made with the mating gemstones.”
“Hmm, well, something like that.” She sat with her feet beneath her, a woven grass dress fastened around her tanned bust and extending over her thighs, and tucked a lock of straight, black hair behind her ear. “I’m Meg. I think you met my husband, Itime, and our oldest son, Tulu.”
“Mama, mama!” A skinny little four-year-old bounced into her arms.
Meg hugged him. “I’m also the mother to this little guy, and three more in between. I heard you met Orike. What a drama queen, am I right?”
Another woman with East Asian features, maybe in her sixties, approached with matronly welcome. She’d tucked her straight black hair into a woven box-shaped hat and she wore a longer grass dress with fashionable red stripes. “Welcome. I’m Angie, the leader of our little group.”
Meg jerked her thumb. “She’s my mom.”
“My husband, Konomelu, says you two would like to shower and dress before dinner.”
Dress before dinner? Angie’s accent hinted at upstate New York refined by Ivy League schooling. Meg’s was a little more modern, but definitely East Coast.
Dannika coughed out the last of her phlegm and tried to return their greetings. “I’m actually desperate to contact my assistant.”
“I understand.” Angie clasped her hands. Her nails were surprisingly neat, the edges shaped into classic ovals, although her palms were rough from manual work. “You’ve been through so much. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”
“Konomelu said you have no method to contact the mainland,” Ciran affirmed.
“That’s right. We’d love to contact them. But unfortunately, our engineering wizard hasn’t quite gotten the radio working.”
Oh, so they were close actually. “You have a radio?”
Angie pursed her lips as though searching for the right words.
“No,” Meg said bluntly. “We have pieces of a radio.”
“She’s trying her hardest to get it working,” Angie said.
“Well, yeah, but saying ‘we have a radio’ to these guys is like saying Johnny Cash had a Cadillac. It’s a slight bit misleading.”
“My daughter knows what she’s talking about.” Angie squeezed Dannika’s hand and released her. “We can offer you a refreshing beverage, and then Meg can lead you to the shower. This way.”
Dannika used Ciran’s help to stand and leaned heavily against him. It always took a couple of minutes to get used to supporting her weight on land again.
They followed Angie through the naked youths and equally nude warriors and passed a carved depression in the wall. Plants and Sea Opals filled it.
Beside it, Val rested against the wall with her head on the cool rock. She’d washed off the blood and looked battered and pale. Hadali handed her a coconut bowl filled with water.
Meg hummed Johnny Cash’s One Piece at a Time song, in which he stole from the car factory piecemeal across several decades. The end result was not exactly a Cadillac.
“And I’ll ask Bex about her progress with the radio,” Angie continued.
“I’m sorry.” That name was too distinctive to be a coincidence. “Did you say, Bex?”
“Hmm? Yes.” Angie turned, her grass gown swishing her legs, and raised one hand to wave over the chaos. “Bex?”
Crouched near Hadali and Val, a woman with dirty blonde hair examined Val’s tiny cell phone. She wore a short grass bikini and skirt, and she looked up at Angie’s call.
“Our new guests are asking after you,” Angie said graciously.
“Me?”
“Yes.” Dannika went to the curious woman. “Just today, we met one of your relatives.”
Hadali rocked on his knees. “Mom, they didn’t know Hunter.”
Bex nodded cautiously.
“But Dannika lived in New York,” Hadali said.
“Yeah, and I’d be shocked if she knew my old cat.”
“I don’t, I’m sorry. But we just came from Bermuda taking video for our dating profiles, and our videographer was Stevie.”
A smile cracked Bex�
��s face. “You know Stevie?”
“Yes! This is so amazing. He’s been looking for you all this time, but no one ever talked about Lusca, so he had no luck until just…gosh, today, actually.”
“I cannot believe you survived.” Such awe filled Ciran’s voice he looked like he was about to poke her to make sure she was real. “No single warrior caught alone survives an attack by the Lusca. I told him you were dead.”
“He was undeterred,” Dannika assured Bex. “He had total confidence in you.”
Bex scratched her nose, still grinning. “He’s doing okay?”
“More than okay. He’s going to charter a boat. I wish your radio was working. We could direct him here to pick us all up.”
The smile wiped off Bex’s face.
The other exited youths dropped silent, and only a whistle of wind and drip-drip-drip filled the lagoon.
She looked at the other women and warriors. A silent communication passed between them, then Bex looked back at Dannika. “You better get washed and fed. We’ll talk.”
Chapter Thirteen
Angie led them up the back steps, out of the sacred church, and across what must have once been Lusca’s sacred island.
The young fry raced around them. The two oldest, Nuno and Itime, helped Val. Hadali carried her bottle of elixir.
Konomelu and Itime were surprisingly friendly toward Ciran considering he violated the sacredness of their ancient lands. They had stowed their tridents somewhere in the cavern lagoon and kept only a dagger strapped to a thigh.
“Perhaps we can strike Lusca much sooner than we hoped,” Konomelu crowed, bouncing up the steps behind Ciran. “With an Undine—I mean, an Atlantean who used to an Undine—we could see resources we had missed or weaknesses to exploit. Warriors we had discounted.”
“Patrol patterns we previously missed,” Itime agreed calmly.
“How to weaponized the squids!”
Ciran held up a hand. “I am a warrior, not a mystic.”
Konomelu flubbed his lips in disagreement. “You have shown us a queen. With powers! There is no limit to the wonders I am prepared to believe.”
Ah.
That was understandable but worrisome. If their brides could not develop their own powers, and only Dannika had the abilities, then three warriors and one queen might have a difficult time bringing down an entire city.
