Decadia Series: Books 1-3

by Apryl Baker

“It’s not a tattoo.” She had no intention of taking her shirt off. None whatsoever.

  “I need to check it to see if I’m right.”

  She closed her eyes and cursed. He was right, and she knew it, but this was not a good idea. Not at all. Forcing her legs to move, she went over and squatted down beside his chair, her back to him. Instead of taking her shirt off, she unbuttoned it enough to slip the material off her shoulder. His fingers touched her skin, and she sucked in a breath. He skimmed the mark, but said nothing.

  “Stand up.”

  “What?” she asked, startled.

  “Stand up, Val. I want you to touch the map.”

  She did as he asked and started to pull her shirt up, but his hand stopped her. “No, I want to see if the birthmark responds when you touch the map.”

  It was an odd request, but she did as he asked. She let her fingers sweep over the map, but nothing happened except for the images chasing each other. Stephen’s hand came down over her own and pressed it firmly to the paper. It only took seconds before she felt it. A heat began to burn in her back, where the mark rested. Sharp tingles jack-knifed through her hand and up her arm, ending in the mark.

  Stephen’s gasp mirrored her own when she felt his warm breath on her back. “It’s glowing.”

  “Glowing?” She turned her head and looked down. The mark was lit up in a golden light, like someone had taken spun gold and inked around each black line. “What the…”

  “Val…”

  They both turned to see Lukas standing in the door. His shock bled to anger and he stalked over, but before he could say anything, Val cut him off. “Look, Luk. I think we discovered the key to the maps.”

  He snapped his jaw closed and focused on the mark on her back and then looked down to the maps. “The maps stopped moving.”

  She followed his gaze, and sure enough, the images had settled into place and were giving off the same golden hue as her birthmark. “I think it’s time to talk to Tobias.”

  ***

  “And you know this how?” Kronos asked from his seated position.

  The junior magician gulped visibly. “The wards that were set in place alerted us to the ship’s presence. It just passed the Dendali Curse.”

  Kronos felt disgust for the man relaying him the news. The magician was weak. Even now, he trembled under Kronos’ gaze. “And why is Hera not delivering this news to me herself? As head of my magicians, the responsibility fell to her.”

  Another tremor crept through the man standing at attention. “She is indisposed at this time, Your Majesty. I thought it prudent to come and notify you at once rather than wait for her to become available.”

  Kronos actually approved of the man’s answer. He still didn’t like the weak Atlantian, but at least the junior magician had made the correct decision of notifying him right away. Hera, no doubt, was busy with her experiments.

  “Go on.” Kronos waved his hand dismissively.

  Terror gripped the man’s heart and showed through his eyes. They were such normal eyes, nothing special about them. No one of importance would mourn them when they closed forever. They were lamps carrying a worthless soul from this lifetime to the next. “Go—go on, Your Majesty?”

  Kronos would need to speak with Hera about her tactics when recruiting new magicians to swell their ranks. “Yes.” Kronos edged forward on his seat. He looked down at the junior magician and slowed his words one by one as they exited his mouth. “Tell—me—why—I—care—about—this—ship.”

  “Oh, yes, the ship entered the Dendali Curse and was permitted to begin the Crucible by the Keeper.”

  For the first time, Kronos was given pause. This was news. Of all the ships to pass over the Dendali curse in the last one hundred and fifty years since the Great War, only a handful had been allowed to even begin the Crucible, and of those, none had made it through.

  Kronos followed this train of thought. If the Keeper allowed a ship to pass, then there was someone of Atlantian blood aboard. Kronos had spies in every corner of DeCadia and its surrounding provinces. He had memorized every Atlantian’s name who had decided to leave their great city. One name gave him pause—Tobias Dendali.

  He wasn’t frightened of the man. On the contrary, Tobias was not a physically dangerous opponent. However, one could never underestimate a man with his extensive knowledge of Atlantian magic. It was he, in fact, who had created the spell to place the Dendali Curse. What was more, Tobias managed to escape Atlantis with his wife and child while under guard. Although not dangerous in the traditional sense, he was someone not to be overlooked or underestimated.

  These thoughts led Kronos to memories of past events, of his rise to power, and the death of Tobias’ brother, Atlantis’ former king.

  “Your Majesty?” the junior magician asked, shattering Kronos’ visions of the past.

  “You did well to inform me.” Kronos eyed the smaller man. An exhale loud enough for Kronos to hear from his seat escaped the young man’s mouth. “I want you to send Hera to me as soon as possible. Have her meet me in the council room. I don’t care what experiment she’s in the middle of.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Blood began to return to the underling’s face, and sensing a close to their conversation, he wasted no time in bowing then scurrying toward the door and away from Kronos.

  “What is your name?” Kronos halted the man’s hasty retreat.

  “My—my name?” Just as quickly as the blood returned to his face, it disappeared.

  “Yes.” Kronos rose from his seat. His square pupils, the trait that set him apart from birth to become a ruler in this world, skewered the frightened magician like a spear. “You do have a name, don’t you?”

  “Yes…yes, my parents named me after you, my King. My name is Kronos Atlas.”

  Kronos nodded slowly, thinking over the idea that his population was naming the males of the next generation after him. Why not? It was because of him the Great War had ended. It was because of him that his people were enjoying a prosperous and exciting future.

  “Well, Kronos Atlas,” the king said, “change your weak disposition or change your name. The title of Kronos is reserved for men with a spine.”

  “Yes…yes, Your Majesty.” He bowed once again and fled the room with ill-disguised haste.

  Kronos dismissed the messenger from his thoughts, his mind already drifting toward plans for the ship entering the Crucible. Kronos withdrew from his court, two armed sentries joining him at the exit as he did. They were part of his personal bodyguard and followed him like shadows wherever he went.

  He tolerated them because he was expected to. But Kronos was no stranger to the sword himself. If there was ever anyone foolish enough to make an attempt on his life, he would not be looking to anyone else for protection. His own two hands would be all the saving he would need.

  Quietly, Kronos walked through the palace halls. The marble glistened with a polished sheen and mirrored his own image back to him. Towering walls and pillars embraced a ceiling twice as tall as any building in Atlantis. The decoration was simple with busts of previous kings and murals of Atlantis’ history on the walls.

  Kronos walked by servants and guards who bowed to him as he passed. He smiled and nodded in return. There was no malice in his heart for them. They loved and respected him as their king, as was their duty. In return, Kronos put up with them. All but a few were worthless peons, going about duties they were given. They were cogs in a machine, a machine Kronos needed to continue to keep running if his end game was to be achieved.

  Before Kronos knew it, he was standing in front of the council doors. “I am not to be disturbed,” he instructed the guards. “Hera is the only one who is to be permitted entry.”

  Both guards nodded their understanding and took up position on either side of the double doors. Their hands rested on their sword hilts, their armor a bulwark to any who would enter uninvited.

  Kronos entered the room and closed the door behind him. It was small compa
red to the rest of the palace, but that was what he desired. He needed someplace quiet and safe from any prying ears to hold his meeting with Hera. Advancement was on the horizon, progress for not only his people but his legacy as king.

  The room was home to a large round table and chairs. Fires shone brightly in braziers, ensuring every corner of the room was lit and free of any shadow someone might lurk within. On one side of the room, a giant map covered the wall. The map boasted a detailed drawing of the known world. The nation of DeCadia was clearly visible, as well as the outlying islands.

  Not for the first time, curiosity as to what else was beyond the mapped world lit a fire deep within Kronos. The Atlantians had always been a secluded race. It wasn’t until King Dendali had agreed to trade with the DeCadians that they’d had contact with any nation besides the Dragons, and everyone knew how that ended.

  But it was time. Years of preparation led Kronos and Atlantis to this point. They were done being cut off from the world; it was their time to rule.

  A loud, commanding knock interrupted Kronos’ thoughts. He smiled to himself. There was only one person who would dare bang on his doors so brashly. “Come in,” Kronos called out, his focus remaining fixed on the map.

  The doors opened, and a middle-aged woman entered. She was neither attractive nor ugly, average. She wore an ebony cloak, as was expected of a person from her order, her hair as black as ink in contrast to her fair skin. “You summoned me, Your Majesty?”

  “Yes.” Kronos kept his attention on the map. “I was wondering why you would permit the services of such weak men to your order. I thought better of you, Hera.”

  Kronos allowed a smirk, feeling the woman bristle at his insult. “It is not every Atlantian who is gifted with the ability to harness magic. I cannot be as selective as I once was, given your order to grow our ranks for the coming campaign with the outside world.”

  “Fair point.” Kronos weighed her words. He still refused to look at her, an act he knew would infuriate the woman to no end. “I called you here for two reasons. First, I’m sure you are aware of the ship that has been allowed entry into the Crucible?”

  “I am.”

  “Excellent. I want them monitored. I want to know who they are. It’s not every day you find one who shares Atlantian blood eager to return home and brave the dangers of the Crucible.”

  “Understood.” Hera walked over to stand beside him, her gaze drifting to the map on the wall. “Are we to hinder their progress through the Crucible?”

  “No, that will not be necessary. The first test should be more than enough. Second, I want a status on your experiments. How does the Titan Project fair?”

  “Very well, my Lord.”

  For the first time since she’d entered, he heard the smile in her voice. It was enough to make Kronos finally break his gaze from the map and study her. She followed his lead, and the King and the head magician stared at one another in silence. “Do you care to elaborate?” Kronos finally asked, both amused and annoyed at her audacity.

  “The Titan Project is on track and will be ready when the invasion begins. There have been numerous deaths during the initial experiment phase, but we have a serum that is proving rather promising. Very few test subjects have suffered the fate of their predecessors. How goes the political realm, my king? Do you have the support of the people?”

  “The people love me.” Kronos rolled his eyes. He turned from Hera to the map again. “I am their king, and they would follow me into hell itself if I asked them. When the time is right, during the annual celebration that marks the end of the Great War and our victory over DeCadia, I will make our plans known to them. They will rally behind us. Those with differing viewpoints will meet an early demise.”

  “And the Atlantian army?” Hera asked. “They are ready as well?”

  “Commander Ajax has been swelling our ranks for decades. Our weapons are beyond the technology any known civilizations can claim, and our troops the best trained in the history of our people. When the time comes, it won’t be a war at all. It’ll be a slaughter.”

  “Slaughter.” Hera let the word roll around the inside of her mouth. “I like the sound of that.”

  Chapter Three

  Tobias stared in the small, cracked mirror and marveled at his reflection. Every wrinkle, every scar, every age line or spot was gone. The face of the boy who’d played at being a man mocked him. His body laughed at him too. It was strong, virile, and ready for action, whereas Tobias just wanted peace. Not something he would be afforded. Death waited, perhaps sooner rather than later if they arrived at the gates of Atlantis.

  A knock at the door made him cringe. Valeria. He felt her. There would be no hiding now. She would demand explanations, and he couldn’t lie to her any more than she could him. It was a talent of their family.

  “Come in.” Even his voice had gone deeper, younger than his wizened years.

  Valeria strode in, only to stop, her face shocked. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

  Tobias laughed mirthlessly. “Sit down, girl. There is much to discuss.” His voice may have sounded like a youth, but his demeanor was still that of an old man. He saw Lukas and the Naval captain crowding in behind her.

  “Who…?”

  “I’m Tobias,” he interrupted her. “Close the door and sit down.”

  He waited, and the men followed his orders, but not Valeria. She was as stubborn as any of his blood. “We are Atlantian, girl. Your wounds are completely healed, as are mine. Check for yourself.”

  She went over every wound she’d received in their escape from the merchant slaver, then the fight to get away from the Dragons, and finally the battle with the Kraken. The frantic search she did made a hint of a smile cross his otherwise stern expression.

  “How?”

  “Magic.” He leaned against the wall. “The closer we get to our home, the more the magic in our blood activates. It keeps you young and healthy. Surely, you’ve noticed you look healthier, more toned, even.”

  “But you were dying!” He could empathize with the desperation in her voice. He’d felt it the first time he realized what being an Atlantian meant. Once the magic activated, it stopped the aging process until you left Atlantis. Even then, you aged so slowly. It would be decades before you felt the first real effects of aging.

  “Yes, I was,” he agreed, his voice calm. “The magic healed me. Then, it started to return me to what it thought of as my healthiest conditioning, about thirty or so.”

  Val staggered back, and Lukas jumped up to catch her. He guided her to the seat next to him. Tobias sighed. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

  For a moment, the three individuals who had entered Tobias’ room were quiet, each lost to his or her own thoughts. Tobias gave them time to get a hold on their feelings before he began. He took the interim to study their expressions. Stephen, the captured Royal Navy captain, hid his expression well, while Lukas was more concerned about Valeria than what Tobias had already told them. Valeria herself was regrouping quickly, already standing from her chair, a familiar fire in her eyes. “You should have told me this would happen as we got closer to Atlantis!”

  Tobias nodded along with her words. “You’re not wrong, but would you have accepted my word as truth? If I told you we would began to heal and appear younger than our actual age, would you have believed me?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer, instead Tobias plowed his way further into the story he had contrived for Valeria. “Our Atlantian blood flows strong. As we progress through the Crucible and near Atlantis, your own magic will awaken. You’ll need someone to guide you, to show you how to harness your power and let it make you stronger. I will be that person. I have to be that person.”

  Tobias could see the distrust in her face before she spoke. “And why the sudden change of heart? Why do you wish to aid me now?”

  “That answer is simple.” Tobias let a grin slide across his face. “I want to survive.”

  “What ar
e you talking about?” The question came from Lukas, who hovered near Valeria like a guard dog.

  Tobias ignored the man and looked his granddaughter in the eyes. “Did you think traveling home would solve your problems? Did you think the city of Atlantis would open their arms and embrace their long-lost daughter as one of their own? Wake up! Atlantis doesn’t want to be found for a reason. If we survive the Crucible, you’ll need my help. If we reach Atlantis, both of us will need to be ready to use our magic.”

  “I’m not trying to find Atlantis to start a fight.” Valeria shook her head. “I’m going because it’s my home, and maybe, just maybe me arriving with a ship and others can be a first step toward peace between Atlantis and DeCadia.”

  Tobias opened his mouth, but before he could speak again, Valeria raised a hand.

  “I already know how the marks on our body correlate with the map I took from you. We are going to Atlantis. Help guide my ship, and I’ll allow you to instruct me in the ways of the Atlantian magic. That’s the deal.”

  There was no room left in her voice for discussion. A sense of pride Tobias didn’t expect welled in his heart for his granddaughter. “You have a deal, Captain.”

  ***

  Ryder stretched, completely and utterly bored. If they thought she was just going to sit here in this tiny little cabin for the remainder of this journey, they had another thing coming. She was a princess, heir to the throne of the Dragons. She did not wait for people to allow her to do what she wished. She simply did it.

  Once she’d gone through all of Lukas’ possessions, she had a mental list of questions to ask him. He seemed the nicest of all the people here on the boat. He certainly wasn’t as afraid of her as the others. He’d even brought her to his own cabin. There was something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He didn’t smell human, but for the life of her, she didn’t know what else he could be. She had this entire journey to figure it out, though.

  She paced around his desk, prowling the room. Why had that awful Navy captain not come to take her out for a stroll? Stephen. Yes, that was his name. Lukas had put her safety in his care. The man wanted her dead, so why would they trust him with her? Not that he’d be able to do her any real harm. Well, at least she hoped not.