Shattered by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 8)

by Starla Night

  The queens would sneak into the hidden area of the reef to demonstrate their powers. The older trainees would monitor and distract the Luscan patrol.

  If all went perfectly to plan, the queens would pass Konomelu’s tests, emerge from hiding and, while still safely on the island side of the coral fence, use their powers to drive back the patrol.

  Drive them far into the ocean and keep them there.

  Once they cleared the way, the warriors and queens would travel to the echo point and share their information. The currents would take some time to reach Atlantis, but their message would eventually arrive.

  They would warn Hazel about the sabotage, tell Ciran’s warriors his status, and summon backup from Atlantis. Humans would fly out to heal Val.

  The Atlantis queens would teach their queens any needed skills—especially Angie, who, even after a week of practice had not yet discovered her powers.

  And they would all descend in an organized fashion to Lusca, turn aside the enemy units, charm the giant squids, overthrow the king and rescue everyone.

  Easy.

  But it all depended on how things went today.

  Nuno emerged from the water, shifted to human effortlessly, and gestured at the distant coral. “They’re acting weird.”

  Uh oh.

  Now? Of all times?

  Itime looked at Ciran.

  Up at the firepit, Konomelu reviewed contingency plans with the queens. What to do if Meg couldn’t enter the water. What to do if a predator interrupted their tests. What to do if they felt like they were losing control and might reveal their secret prematurely to the Luscan patrol.

  But none of those contingencies had taken in the possibility of the Luscan patrol becoming a problem.

  Ciran dropped his fraying human clothes and strode into the waves. “Show us.”

  Nuno led him and Itime to the center of the reef and pointed. “They’re all around the reef today. It’s like they know we’re doing something.”

  Out beyond the dead coral lattice, one Luscan warrior kicked slowly back and forth. He watched more intently than on the other mornings.

  A second patroller floated beyond the first.

  “They never post more than two warriors in one place on the island,” Itime vibrated.

  “There’s a third.” Nuno pointed to the far end of the lattice, closest to the cavern, “and at the other end, a fourth.”

  Itime stilled.

  “Should we cancel the training today? I do not see Lieutenant Orike.”

  Nuno pointed. “He’s there.”

  The lieutenant was far out enough to see the curve on the island.

  “Good eye,” Ciran said.

  Nuno puffed his chest.

  The whole patrol had gathered to watch their demonstration.

  Konomelu kicked to their position, bubbles trailing from his swift dive. “The brides are ready.”

  “But we are not.” Ciran pointed out the odd behavior. “They are planning something.”

  Konomelu squinted at the patrol. “We altered our schedule. Perhaps they have guessed that we are planning something.”

  “Should we delay?” Itime asked.

  Konomelu considered it for a long time. “No. If our brides demonstrate the powers Ciran says they are capable of, they will defeat the patrol as planned. If they do not demonstrate those powers, then they will not engage. The patrol will be none the wiser.”

  “Unless the patrol comes through the coral barrier,” Ciran said.

  “They will not violate the agreement.” Konomelu nodded to his son. “Prepare the trainees.”

  Nuno kicked to the younger trainees. “Squid races! Right here, pick your squids.”

  “Mine is named Lieutenant Ori-idiot!” one of them cried.

  “Don’t name it that,” Nuno jeered. “That name’s always a loser. A sore one, too.”

  The patrol drifted closer to the lattice, definitely watching the young fry.

  The back of Ciran’s neck itched. Would they really respect the coral barrier? It was symbolic, not functional, with its fragile dead lattice and gaping holes. The other warriors shared his unease, but they moved forward with the test.

  Squids clustered en masse at the entry point for the women. Tentacles and mantles, long club arms, and the occasional parrotfish squirmed and intermixed. But they weren’t as frantic as in times past. Light glimmered within the mass, and then the squids all changed color from agitated to peaceful. They dispersed, their fins fluttering, tentacles-first without a single ink squirt.

  Dannika released her glowing shield. It had encased just three women: herself, Meg, and Bex.

  Meg opened her eyes with a pleased smile. “It worked. I told them to go away, and they went away.”

  “Where is Angie?” Konomelu demanded.

  Meg’s smile slipped. “She, uh, stayed on shore with Val. She still hasn’t figured out her powers.”

  Konomelu set his jaw and glared at the shoreline. “She has never backed down from a challenge.”

  “That probably makes her failure extra upsetting,” Dannika said. “Did you want us to wait while you go talk to her?”

  He frowned heavily. Again, another long pause, and Konomelu finally ground out his answer. “We will continue. Itime, the first test.”

  Itime stared at Meg, expressionless.

  Konomelu turned to him. “Itime?”

  He twitched. “Yes?”

  “The first test. Begin.”

  “Ah. Yes.” But he continued to stare.

  Meg beamed at the cornflower blue warrior, then hugged him. “Don’t cry.”

  Itime shook his head, looking very far from crying. “It has been a long time.”

  “I know. It’s exciting to be in the ocean again.” She kissed his flat cheek. “This is the first of many swims. Everything’s about to change. Today is the beginning.”

  He nodded.

  Meg gave him one last squeeze and resumed her place in line.

  Itime swam back and forth before them. “When I give the command, Dannika will raise her shield and everyone else will amplify it. Understand?”

  The women focused.

  “Now.”

  They fumbled but got a shield around them, including Dannika. She smiled. Her soul light glowed.

  A weight lifted off Ciran’s chest. They would succeed today, at least enough to go to the echo point and start everything in motion.

  With every successful command the women completed, their confidence bloomed. Konomelu traded a pleased look with Itime, but a wrinkle of stress still ringed his orange-threaded eyes. He worried about his bride.

  Nuno left the young fry and flew to the males. “Dad, when you go to the echo point to summon the Atlantis army, I want to go too.”

  Konomelu’s brows descended. “No.”

  “They can barely make their fins, and I’m a warrior.”

  “In training.”

  “Only because I’m always here. I can do this. You have to take me.”

  “You have a duty to protect the young fry.”

  Nuno glared. “Orike was right. You’ll never let me become a warrior. You’ll always keep me in shallow waters.”

  Konomelu’s nostrils flared and he snarled. “A warrior knows his duty. A warrior obeys his commander. Your task is to distract the patrol and you have abandoned it. How can I take you on the most dangerous journey of your life if you cannot perform your duty?”

  Nuno’s eyes reddened and he swallowed hard, then flew furiously back to the trainees, shouted at them to start a new race—to chase after him—and flew at the lattice.

  Hadali and Tulu chased him, and the rest of the young fry scrambled.

  The patrol in the deep ocean swam closer.

  Nuno zoomed to the nearest patrolling warrior, shifted to toes, and kicked. His feet hit the lattice near the warrior’s head. The bleached coral creaked. The warrior rotated to face him.

  Nuno dove into the shallow end of the reef.

  The y
oung fry wheeled and followed.

  Ciran’s unease grew.

  Itime joined them, giving the women a break. “Bex and Dannika are strong. Meg’s power seems weak in comparison. But her soul burns as bright if not brighter.”

  “And Angie cannot use her power at all.” Konomelu crossed his arms. “Why?”

  The warriors debated the differences. All the women had bright souls. The Life Tree of Sanctuary was strange and stunted, but the Life Tree of Atlantis was small and young.

  “Perhaps our elixir is more potent,” Ciran said. “Balim makes it with a modern method using something called an Instant Pot.”

  “Then why Bex is so strong?” Konomelu asked.

  The women had floated closer to listen, and Dannika’s eyes widened. “Oh, actually, Bex drank that elixir, too. Hadali poured the last of Val’s bottled elixir into her cup and she drank it by accident.”

  Bex shrugged. “Oops.”

  Could that be the difference?

  Nuno left the young fry in the shallows and swam along the lattice again. “Jelly-for-brains! Squid-lover! Nudibranch-licker! Shark-chum!”

  But something was wrong.

  The muscled, armed, tattooed warriors paced him on the outside. When Nuno switched directions, a different warrior paced him the opposite way.

  Ciran had been taught the same method to hunt cornered prey.

  And a warrior in shallow water against a beach was the definition of cornered.

  Why were they treating Nuno as prey?

  Nuno vibrated insults at the warriors. The patrol sneered right back.

  Was this normal?

  Each captured the other’s full attention.

  “They hunt us like cornered fish,” Konomelu grumbled. “Nuno! Swim in-shore.”

  Nuno slashed his coral knife at the patrolling warrior. “Enter my domain and I will end you.”

  “You think to scratch me with that little toy?” The patrolling warrior sniggered. “It would not even penetrate my scales.”

  “I sharpened it myself!”

  The patrolling warrior laughed and glanced back at the two other patrollers ranged behind him. “That is even more reason.”

  The trio laughed.

  “Oh yeah?” Nuno kicked up to the lattice and reached through to slash at the male’s arm. “Feel this!”

  The patrolling warrior darted forward and grabbed Nuno’s arm.

  Nuno shouted in rage and fright.

  They yanked him against the coral.

  “Nuno!” Konomelu shouted.

  This was not normal.

  The hole was too small to fit Nuno through. But the patrol yanked him hard, twice, to try. He cried again.

  “Nuno?” Meg whimpered. “Nuno…”

  Squid surged in the water and rushed toward Meg. Ciran arched over the horde and kicked hard.

  “Nuno!” Konomelu fought his way through the squids.

  “Call them off.” Itime dove and shoved the creatures away. “Meg.”

  Another Luscan darted through a bigger hole and entered the reef. The first warrior released Nuno’s arm. The second dragged him, dazed but struggling, through the larger hole and into the ocean where the first warrior grappled his other arm and forced him away.

  It happened in instants.

  Nuno was being kidnapped!

  Ciran’s heart spiked in his chest. He was unarmed. But he was also closest.

  The younger trainees clustered, as they’d been trained to respond to danger, and Tulu and Hadali shepherded them inward to the shoreline. Dannika shielded them and Bex guarded their retreat.

  Ciran kicked through the lattice and clashed with the first warrior, who slashed at him. He dove out of the way and kept after the kidnappers. He just had to slow them enough for the other warriors to catch up.

  The warriors dragged Nuno to the rest of the unit and secured him in a net.

  Lieutenant Orike intercepted Ciran, trident out. “Come to seek your doom, coward?”

  Ciran slowed.

  Two warriors secured Nuno. The remaining two flanked Lieutenant Orike. Sharp tridents gleamed. Each warrior wore five blades, and their intricate tattoos and scars showed they had all the experience they needed to wield them.

  Three against one again.

  But he needed to make it five against one.

  Because if he could trick all five of the patrol into dropping Nuno and chasing him—Ciran the interloper, the foreign warrior—then Konomelu or Itime could sneak in, cut Nuno free, and they’d have a real chance of escaping.

  He just had to think fast and pique the warriors’ territorial anger, and Konomelu and Itime had to sneak—

  “Orike!” Konomelu flew past Ciran. Itime zoomed on the other side in a coordinated attack. “Give me back my son!”

  So much for sneaking.

  Lieutenant Orike brandished his trident. The other warriors braced.

  Itime parried both flanking warriors.

  Konomelu punched the trident out of his way and smashed into the lieutenant, barrel-rolling him backward.

  The flanking warriors turned on Itime.

  Very good.

  Ciran kicked past the fray. The remaining two warriors had Nuno in their net and were dragging him as fast as possible away from the fight. Unencumbered, Ciran was faster. He almost reached them.

  They suddenly dove.

  A deadly bull shark, siren wailing, bore down on Ciran.

  What?

  He jackknifed and dove.

  The shark veered after him. Squids came at him from either side, and a large, peaceful manta ray emerged from the depths beneath him flapping its great wings as a barrier.

  The patrol escaped with Nuno on the other side.

  The bull shark dove after him.

  He kicked back. Lotar could calm or redirect the animal, a rare trait in warriors, and Ciran did not have the skill.

  The squids latched onto his arms, biting and squeezing.

  He shook them off. Frustration pinched him even more than their hard beaks. “You pursue the wrong warrior. Look. Go after those warriors. They are the ones you must stop.”

  But he was no queen.

  The bull shark veered in for another attack.

  He retreated, kicking along the bottom. Lobsters and crabs rose from their burrows, clacking warnings, and small fish nipped his fins. Ribbons of eels squiggled after him.

  Far in the distance, Lieutenant Orike fought both Konomelu and Itime while the flanking warriors looked on, waiting for their chance to strike. Ciran kicked toward them steadily.

  “You will pay for this treason.” Konomelu slashed his coral trainee dagger at Lieutenant Orike’s chest.

  Lieutenant Orike arched over his swing. “It is not treason to kill traitors.” He thrust his gleaming, sharp trident at Konomelu’s unguarded back.

  Itime parried the trident with his coral dagger. It cracked. “You violated the safe area.”

  “There is no safe area, exile. We have orders to turn your weakened young fry into a warrior. Thank Prince Lukiyo.” Lieutenant Orike jabbed his trident at Itime.

  Itime parried the blow. His weakened blade broke in half, leaving a jagged end.

  “Monster!” Konomelu slammed his shoulder into Lieutenant Orike’s back.

  The lieutenant grunted, whirled, and thumped Konomelu’s gut with the hard, rounded end of his trident.

  Konomelu bent over.

  Itime moved to defend him, but Lieutenant Orike whirled and drove him back. While Konomelu floated helplessly in the water, the other two warriors moved in. One raised his trident to bury the blade in Konomelu’s unguarded back.

  Ciran led the infuriated squids, wailing bull shark, giant manta ray, and agitated sea life right into the middle of the fight.

  The bull shark bashed into the warriors, its razor teeth snapping at their knees. They whirled and danced away from the sudden threat. Squids latched onto their elbows and ankles, the eels vibrated electricity between their legs, and the waft of the
manta ray’s wings spun them head over fins.

  Lieutenant Orike broke off his assault on Itime and scrambled back, slicing away attackers. “What madness is this?”

  The bull shark bumped Konomelu, then veered away.

  Inside the shallows, Meg had her eyes closed. She was out in the open, Dannika beside her, Bex on the other side.

  Itime helped Konomelu through the lattice.

  Ciran kicked to swim around the lieutenant and unsettled patrol. They had to regroup. This was a disaster.

  The bull shark rushed him, blocking his way. Then, the shark veered away and all the animals dispersed. Dannika or Bex must have told Meg to release them.

  Except now he was alone on the wrong side of the lattice with the patrol blocking him from reaching the shallows.

  Lieutenant Orike didn’t notice what was happening inside the lattice. He watched the dispersal of the animals in shock. “The Undine has an affinity for sharks. He will only cause us irritation.” He leveled his trident on Ciran. “Destroy him.”

  The Luscan warriors charged Ciran.

  He arched over them and raced for the largest hole.

  Lieutenant Orike shouted. Would Ciran make it through? He was nearly there—

  The sharp blades of Lieutenant Orike’s trident speared across the hole, blocking him.

  Ciran grabbed the handle closest to the blade.

  Lieutenant Orike yanked it back, dragging Ciran closer, and then jabbed hard, aiming for his belly.

  He forced the blades away.

  Lieutenant Orike yanked and thrust again, and a third time. He was strong despite the recent fight.

  Ciran’s energy drained.

  Oh, no.

  Dannika, do not fear. Not now. Use your shield.

  Feel your power.

  “I told you not to enter my territory, exile.” The lieutenant yanked his trident out of Ciran’s weakening hands. His lips curled into a snarl. “Now feel the wrath of Lusca.”

  Ciran kicked backward. He would only have one more shot at escape before his strength drained away.

  The lieutenant darted forward and stabbed.

  Ciran arched over the thrust—and kicked through the opening in the lattice.

  Now he was in the safe zone.

  “Yah!” Lieutenant Orike cried behind him.

  Shocking pain pierced his shoulder. The tip of Lieutenant Orike’s trident emerged through the front of his upper chest, the fleshy muscle, and the upper arm.