by Katrina Ryan
“Shall we practice dexterity again?” Athelea asked. Victoria tried not to show her reluctance as she agreed, hoping her afternoon of studying would yield results. They left Sarah sketching on a bench in the Garden of the Gods just outside the Neutral Room, and Athelea sealed the doors of the Neutral Room shut behind Victoria.
After twenty minutes, Victoria found herself cursing her decision. Despite meditation and Athelea’s tuition, she wasn’t having any success fighting Athelea’s dexterity. The room still felt suffocating, and every time Athelea gleamed more information about her personal life, Victoria felt more and more frustrated. After an hour, she had the worst headache of her life and felt ready to collapse. Without a word, she signaled that she was done.
“You can’t excel at everything,” Athelea reassured her. “If you and I train for an hour or two every day, I’m sure you’ll have mastered dexterity in no time.”
“That’s optimistic,” Victoria muttered, feeling glum. “What can I do until then? I want to be useful to Atlantis.”
Athelea’s eyes lit up. “Of course,” she said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier, but there might be a way to strengthen your dexterity immediately. I cannot guarantee it will work, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. If you wait with Sarah for a moment, I’ll secure the palace, and we’ll be on our way.”
Sulking, Victoria followed Athelea outside. She felt an immediate sense of relief being out of the Neutral Room, but the sky had gotten dark while she’d been inside, and it felt like she’d wasted the entire day. Not even the sight of the Garden of the Gods or Sarah sketching cheered her up. Athelea excused herself to run her errands, and Sarah set her sketchbook down and looked at Victoria. “You look grumpy. What’s the matter?” she asked.
“As if Athelea didn’t tell you this afternoon,” Victoria muttered before she could hold the words back. She stared around the Garden of the Gods, avoiding eye contact. Sarah deserved to know what it felt like.
“Right,” Sarah said, appearing to hold back a sigh. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” Receiving no response from Sarah after a few seconds, Victoria sighed. “Honestly, Sarah, you and Athelea have been exploring Atlantis together these past few days, and I’ve either been unconscious or studying or preoccupied with other ways of supposedly saving Atlantis. If you haven’t realized, I feel miserable and completely excluded.”
Sarah looked at her with a dumbfounded expression for a few seconds before taking a seat next to her on the garden bench. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Sarah said cautiously, and very sincerely, “but you’re being ridiculous. Athelea worries about you every second you’re out of her sight. She’s probably even worse than Tom, which I never thought was possible. You don’t see it because you’re not there, but she is so protective over you. She would love for you to do everything with us, but I can see she genuinely believes you have better things to do.”
Victoria had never thought of it that way. “Why couldn’t she just tell me that, instead of letting me get the wrong impression? I’ve felt awful.”
Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know, Vic. You should probably ask her yourself.”
Victoria mused upon those words for a second, and suddenly, all her worries seemed petty. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve overreacted a bit, and there’s no excuse,” she said. “I’m lucky to have you as my best friend.”
Sarah shook her head, stopping her. “Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to feel stressed. Just look where we are and what you’re doing. You’re trying to restore Atlantis. Nobody has ever had to deal with that.”
Victoria rolled her eyes at the backhanded reassurance, wondering how exactly she was supposed to help Atlantis. Athelea returned a moment later, wearing a cloak over her dress and had another draped over her arm. “I’m ready to leave, if you are,” she said, handing the cloak to Victoria. “Sarah, if you stay on the island, we’ll only be gone an hour or so. My protective dexes will follow wherever you go.”
Intrigued, Victoria fastened her cloak and followed Athelea to the main island. It wasn’t long before she realized they were going into the Eternal Forest. Athelea took an unfamiliar path through the trees to a clearing at the top of a hill, the highest summit on this side of the island apart from Mount Theus. Athelea sat down on the grass and motioned for Victoria to join her. “Look up,” she said.
Victoria did. She couldn’t help but gasp, understanding exactly what was so special about this place. She’d never seen so many stars in her life, so close that she could swear she could touch any of them. All her frustration about struggling with dexterity and the others leaving her alone in Atlantis seemed unimportant when the universe was so big. “It’s stunning,” she whispered. She didn’t know how else to describe it. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Athelea smiled in a way that said she understood exactly how Victoria felt. They watched the stars in silence for another minute before Athelea spoke. “As I said yesterday, I believe that you’re struggling with dexterity because your energy is not entirely focused yet. You haven’t been in Atlantis for very long, so that is only to be expected,” Athelea said. “However, I believe we can expedite the process. Starlight is one of the most powerful forces in Atlantis. It should help refine your dexterity better than the Neutral Rooms did, and I hope that with a little more practice, you will be able to invoke dexes very soon. Now, if any of the stars permit it, you can take some of their starlight.”
Victoria automatically glanced to the sky, her pulse racing. Athelea’s words seemed impossible, but Atlantis was the only place where she could begin to imagine them being true. “Really? How?”
“Close your eyes and feel around the sky for a force that connects with you. When you feel it, open your eyes.”
Closing her eyes, Victoria turned her thoughts to the sky and quickly found a force pulling at her consciousness, very gently at first. Looking up, had no difficulty finding the small but brilliant star amongst the millions of others. To her, it shone the brightest in the sky, and the gravitational force she’d felt tripled instantly.
And then, a sparkling little voice filled her head.
Atlanteana looks so pretty. She is beautiful. She shines, too.
Stunned, Victoria turned to Athelea. “Did that star actually talk to me?”
“What do you think?” Athelea asked, smiling. “Stars are notorious for falling in love with Atlanteans. It doesn’t happen to everybody, but it is wonderful to behold when it does.”
Victoria could only stare, feeling like she’d lost her grasp on reality. Only the grass beneath her fingers linked her to everything she’d thought she knew about the world. “Stars fall in love? With humans?”
“Stars seek love and entertainment through contact with humans, especially Atlanteans,” Athelea explained. “Watching over us, a star can spend centuries waiting for the right Atlantean, with whom it forms a bond of unconditional love. They often communicate with each other and form an incredibly close friendship for the life of the Atlantean. Philosophers have regarded it as another form of Forever Love.”
It sounded wonderful and fantastical to Victoria, but it didn’t make scientific sense. “How do they communicate? Stars are light years away from us.”
“Nobody knows. The stars have many secrets they have chosen not to share.”
It was so much to process. Victoria didn’t know where to begin. “Can you hear this star?”
Athelea shook her head. “It’s not my star. Many stars have spoken to me in the past because I’m Atlantean royalty, but I haven’t listened to them since I was your age. Atlanteans are terribly vain, and too many compliments make everything worse. The stars do have unbelievable insight into life, though. That’s probably what I miss most.”
Victoria took a second to process that.
“You should ask the star its name?” Athelea prompted.
Her name, the star corrected. Victoria jumped, still surpri
sed by the tiny voice in her head. I’m Celeste, or Cel, and Atlanteana shines. She is so pretty. I love her.
“Her name is Celeste, or Cel,” Victoria told Athelea. She already understood exactly what Athelea had meant about Atlantean vanity. “Will the compliments ever stop?”
Athelea laughed. “Maybe, if you ask her enough, but don’t waste your time.” She became serious. “Now, ask Celeste if she would bequeath some of her light to you? Explain that you need it to learn dexterity, if she wasn’t listening earlier.”
Atlanteana already shines so brightly, but she can have all the starlight she wants. She is beautiful.
“Cel says yes,” Victoria translated. Apparently, stars could hear everything.
“Perfect. Let’s begin, then. Looking at her, try to pull some of her energy towards yourself, very gently,” Athelea instructed. “Work slowly until you’re more comfortable with the process.”
Victoria tugged at the connection with her mind. A second later, she felt warmth coursing through her body. A faint stream of light formed between herself and the star a second later, glittering faintly, and when Victoria looked at her hand, her Sentence was glowing with starlight. The process continued for nearly a minute, and Victoria noticed a faint halo forming around her body. In the sky, Celeste flickered serenely.
“Carefully,” Athelea reminded them.
Victoria took a breath of fresh evening air and tried to slow the speed of the transfer. For a second, this seemed to help, but then the stream of light began to flow more quickly. Victoria sensed something had gone very wrong. She pulled her hand back instinctively, but the light followed without breaking.
“I can’t control it,” she said, trying not to panic. Celeste was dimming quickly. “What do I do?”
“Relax,” Athelea replied. “Celeste has everything under control. Ask her how she is doing.”
Perfectly. Atlanteana is in control. She is so intelligent.
Victoria couldn’t help but smile, enchanted by the little voice, until the star suddenly disappeared. Victoria swore under her breath. “Celeste?” she called, heart racing.
Silence. Victoria watched the last ray of starlight pass into her hand. I’ve killed a star, she thought with a sense of horror.
“Don’t worry. Celeste is fine,” Athelea said, touching her shoulder softly. Despite the reassurance, Victoria felt like she was going to cry. “She gave you too much of the energy she needs to shine. She’ll warm up and glow again soon.”
Very cold, Celeste agreed a moment later, and dark.
Victoria could hear her little voice shaking and felt a wave of guilt crash through her. The meadow suddenly seemed dark and cold, despite the mild night. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She turned to Athelea. “How long?”
“Anywhere from a few minutes to a few years.”
Victoria stared at the glowing imprint her hand had left in the grass, struck with a sense of hopelessness. She’d watched stars in fascination for years, and yet she knew nothing about this kind of starlight and the mysterious ways of Atlantis. She was sure a solution was obvious to Athelea, but she was Atlantean royalty.
“Since Celeste gave starlight to me,” she ventured, inspired by the imprint of her hand on the grass, “could I give some back to her?”
Athelea nodded. “It wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“Same process in reverse?”
“Essentially. Celeste should be able to execute the process flawlessly, since she is a star. You, however, must not lose focus. Now that she has donated her starlight to you, she can only take it back with your continual permission.”
“Fair enough,” Victoria agreed. “What next?”
“Ask her to take some of her starlight back.”
No, Celeste interrupted. Atlanteana is so pretty with my starlight. I don’t want it.
Victoria sighed. Don’t be difficult, she scolded the star silently, though she wasn’t sure whether Celeste could hear her thoughts. “She says I look pretty with it. She won’t take it.”
Athelea smirked. “Let her know how badly you want her to have her starlight back. She’ll be far more inclined to do something if you explain how much it means to you.”
That seemed logical. “Celeste,” Victoria began, trying to put her desperation and apology into her voice, “please take some of your starlight back from me, or I will feel immensely guilty for making you go dark.”
A thoughtful pause followed, then Victoria heard a cheerful reply. Okay.
Victoria nodded at Athelea.
Athelea smiled approvingly. “If you remember approximately where she is, you can continue.”
Victoria reclined on the grass and lifted her hand to the sky, positioning Celeste somewhere between her fingers. Without Athelea saying, she instinctively knew what she had to do. After a few seconds, the starlight concentrated in her hands on her command and began to flow into the darkness in front of her. She watched the halo around her hands dim steadily for a minute, until a tiny sparkle reappeared in the midnight sky.
Much better. Warmer, Celeste said. Victoria heaved a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. Atlanteana is lovely. I love her.
“Love you, too,” Victoria said, and to her surprise, she meant it. It felt like she and Celeste had been friends for years and understood each other perfectly. A second later, the first cloud of the night passed over the star. Victoria stared at the sky until Athelea stood up.
“The Night Rain will be here soon. We should go,” Athelea said. She extended her hand and then seemed to reconsider. “I would help you up, but a if your body has enough starlight, you become nearly untouchable without causing extreme pain. You can talk to Celeste again tomorrow, though. She isn’t going anywhere for a long time.”
Victoria laughed. They walked to the Isle of the Gods together, and she marveled at how comfortable she felt with this woman, who had been a stranger only days ago. Athelea said goodbye outside the Royal Tower, and Victoria returned to her bedroom. To her surprise, Sarah was still out on the balcony, drinking tea and seeming engrossed with her latest art. She looked up at Victoria after a few moments and closed her sketchbook with a gasp. “Oh, my god, you’re literally glowing. What have you been doing?”
Victoria smiled. Even if Atlantis was the most dangerous place she would ever visit, it was the most magical. “I talked to a star named Celeste.”
Chapter Twenty
THE BURNT FEATHER
Victoria woke before Sarah, having had another night of restful sleep. She admired the sunrise over Atlantis from the balcony, and she was about to return inside when she suddenly noticed a charred, red feather at her feet. She stared at it for a second, and then stumbled to the nearby railing, feeling faint. She knew without any explanation that Caelan had left it as a warning.
He’s going to burn Atlantis, she thought. She knew there was no logical reason to reach this conclusion from a burnt feather, but her intuition sensed this was exactly what it meant. When was he here? When will he attack? she wondered. She had so many questions. She carefully picked up the feather and, seeing that Sarah was still asleep, returned inside and hid it under her pillow.
Atlantis doesn’t have birds, she realized as she slipped into the new dress Athelea had left overnight. Caelan must have gotten the feather from somewhere else. While it seemed to confirm her theory that it was a message from him, it reassured her slightly to think that Caelan ventured out of Atlantis.
In the end, she decided that her worries were too premature to mention the feather to Athelea or Sarah. They were meant to go to the Isle of Time today, and she refused to jeopardize their journey. Athelea arrived shortly after Sarah woke up, and breakfast proceeded as normal. Athelea led an excursion to the East Tower to collect a new batch of candles and perfume, and then left Sarah to sketch in the Garden of the Gods while she and Victoria went to the Neutral Room.
“I’d like for us to meditate for a few minutes,” Athelea began. She sat down on the bench in the middle of the room, a
nd gestured for Victoria to follow. “Close your eyes, sit quietly, and try to clear your mind.”
Victoria obeyed, though she had too many questions to meditate properly. She sat, still and quiet, until she forgot that she was Atlantis, having the most impossible summer of her life. All she remembered was who she was.
“We’re going to try something different today,” Athelea said after some time. Victoria snapped back to reality with a nod, ignoring her headache from the room. “This is another activity to encourage you to become more familiar with your dexterity, but you still won’t have to invoke any dexes yourself. Now, if you were Caelan, what would you use if you wanted to destroy Atlantis?”
“Fire,” Victoria said automatically.
“We can fight fire with water. Next?”
“Earthquake,” Victoria asked, relief coursing through her veins at Athelea’s response to her first answer.
Athelea laughed darkly. “Luckily, you have already learned how to fight those. Next?”
Victoria had to think now. “An army? Flooding Atlantis? Drowning us?”
Athelea nodded. “I suspect Caelan favors poison. It is readily available, easy to control, and often difficult to detect. Now, what I’ve planned for today isn’t exactly a dex, but it will be a good test of your dexterity,” Athelea said. She held out three shimmering vials, which Victoria could swear she’d produced from seemingly nowhere. “Can you tell me which of these are poisonous?”
Victoria faltered. “Should I know?”
“Take moment to feel their essences and you might.”
Victoria picked up the first vial and held it for a second before she was struck with the feeling that she was losing the sense in her hand. It was more uncomfortable than painful, and she held on resolutely until Athelea took it back from her a moment later. She exchanged it for a second vial, which seemed to burn, and a third, which somehow felt frozen. Victoria glanced up warily.
