The Last Atlanteans

by Katrina Ryan

  “They’re all poisonous.”

  “Yes, they are,” Athelea agreed, producing a fourth vial. Reaching for it with a shaking hand, Victoria felt her headache worsen. The sensation was so much more painful than the previous three combined, physically preventing her body from getting too close. The pain spread to her hand as she made a final effort, and she stopped short in defeat. She was completely unable to touch it.

  “Definitely poisonous.”

  Athelea nodded, smiling widely. “That was remarkable. Two drops of this liquid could have killed you in minutes, but no other poison leaves so faint a trace. Many Atlantean scholars have spent their lives learning to sense it, thereby gaining the ability to detect any amount or type of poison.”

  She waved her hands and the four vials disappeared.

  Victoria blinked, looking back and forth between Athelea and where the vials had been. Even though dexterity looked like magic, Athelea seemed to have control over hers that Victoria sensed was beyond the ordinary. She is brilliant at everything, she mused, even if she doesn’t realize it herself.

  “You’ve done very well,” Athelea said. “Don’t be discouraged about dexterity, because your sense of your own is definitely growing. Let’s collect Sarah and go the Isle of Time.”

  Victoria couldn’t believe how quickly her day was improving. Her headache disappeared as they walked across the Garden of the Gods, and although she was still worried about what Caelan meant by the feather, it was easy to forget it all in the beautiful sunlight. Sarah packed her work away, and Athelea led them towards the island gates.

  “Ladies, I’m going to show you how Healing works,” Athelea said. She stopped by a bench near the pool and took a second to run her fingers through one of the fountains. Victoria was convinced that the water became clearer, but she wasn’t sure if it was a dex or her imagination. “Around the world, the ability to heal immediately is unheard of, but in Atlantis, it is an assumed part of life, thanks to our dexterity. It makes us stronger and even more beautiful. We are rarely plagued with the inconvenience of cuts or bruises or scars.”

  While she spoke, she’d produced her dagger from her dress. Victoria caught another glimpse of the Sentence on Athelea’s wrist and couldn’t help but stare, noting that the writing looked different than her own Sentence. But a second later, as the dagger flashed in the sunlight, Victoria realized what was happening. She gasped in horror as Athelea ran the blade across her own palm. The longest second passed before the dagger clattered to the ground, and Athelea’s eyelids fluttered shut.

  Victoria felt herself sway, and even Sarah gasped behind her. “Athelea?” Victoria said. Something had gone incredibly wrong. She held out her hand, unsure of what else to do, and another second passed before Athelea slumped. Victoria lunged forward and caught her before she hit the ground.

  “Athelea, what’s wrong?” Victoria repeated.

  “It’s not healing,” Athelea growled through clenched teeth.

  Victoria leaned closer. “What? Why not?”

  Athelea took an unsteady breath. “There’s a power source that fuels dexterity. It must have stopped working.”

  Victoria felt her heart sink. “Was it Caelan?”

  “No. He would never be strong enough to damage it. Atlantis is simply deteriorating.”

  Victoria refused to dwell on those words for now. Gently opening Athelea’s fist, she saw a stream of red and flinched away. She’s probably never been hurt in her life, she realized. She tore a strip of cloth off the bottom of her dress and wrapped it around Athelea’s hand, looking away as soon as she had finished. Athelea smiled unspoken thanks, but Victoria could see she was still in immense pain.

  “Can I fix the power supply?” Victoria pressed. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Possibly,” Athelea said, after a pause. “The starlight Celeste gave you should be enough to supply Atlantis for a while. When you reach the Castle, put your hands on the middle of the paving by the foot of the throne and let some of that energy flow back out. You shouldn’t lose consciousness, but Sarah will be there to help you if you do.”

  “Shouldn’t Sarah stay with you?”

  “You’ll need her more than I,” Athelea said. She turned to Sarah. “You know your way out of the palace. Look after each other, and I’ll wait right here.”

  Taking her dismissal, Victoria glanced at Sarah, and they started to run. Passing through the main gate and approaching the edge of the cliff, Sarah led the way onto the bridge with confidence, though the structure had been invisible since their first journey across it. They didn’t stop running until they reached the Castle. Victoria raced through the old gate into the Keep, sank to her knees in front of the throne, and touched her palms to the stone.

  Nothing happened.

  “Why isn’t it working?” she muttered. She trusted that Athelea had given her correct instructions, but something still didn’t seem right.

  “You’re panicking,” Sarah said over her shoulder. “Just concentrate and relax, and you’ll be fine.”

  The physical contact with the stone wasn’t enough, Victoria realized. She felt stupid for thinking it would be as simple as touching it. She tried to remember how the starlight had felt on her fingertips when she’d given it back to Celeste, the way it had burned with gentle force and illuminated everything around her, and her fingertips began to tingle. The starlight was waiting.

  And then, a secondary instinct kicked in. Victoria realized the starlight wanted to obey her, and that she had guided it successfully before. This time should be no different. With a final push, her hand began to glow, and then, an explosion of light burst from her palms. The stream flowed into the stone, obeying her command. Victoria watched the stone slowly turn a vibrant silver, seeming to pulse with her donated energy. But when her vision flickered, she realized she was losing control. Not again, Victoria thought. She took a deep breath, but the air felt suffocating.

  “How are you doing?” Sarah asked.

  Victoria didn’t respond, refusing to lose focus. Her vision was blurring badly, and all she could see now was the ribbon of light. The starlight continued to flow from her hand, and the ache grew into a fire that spread through her body. Victoria began to worry.

  “Athelea didn’t say when to stop,” she gasped, suddenly remembering why she was here. She hoped this process was helping Athelea heal. The stream of light slowly began to fade, seeming to reassure her worries, until Victoria felt the connection extinguish. When she pulled away, a glowing imprint of her hand lingered on the stone. She closed her eyes and collapsed onto the ground, shaking.

  “Deep breaths,” Sarah said from next to her, engaging her consciousness. “You’ve done it.”

  Victoria nodded. A reassuring hand moved to her hair, and she eventually managed a few steady breaths. When she no longer felt faint, she opened her eyes. The bright blue sky and the buildings around her stayed where they were meant to be.

  “Do you think it worked?” Sarah asked.

  “Should have. I think I did it right.”

  Sarah smiled. “Everything looked good from my perspective. I’ve never seen anything like that starlight before.”

  “You should see it at night,” Victoria mumbled. “It’s even prettier then.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  Victoria didn’t care whether Sarah was sincere or simply agreeing for conversation. She wanted confirmation that Athelea was healing. And more than that, she wished that she didn’t have be in control of everything, if even for just one minute. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out the world, but a second later, the dreadful sound of stone grinding across stone filled the Castle’s Keep.

  “What was that?” Victoria asked, trying to remember where she’d heard that sound before.

  “The door to the library left of the throne just opened,” Sarah said.

  Victoria bolted to her feet. She felt a surge of energy as she walked across the Keep, and she knew she would feel like herself aga
in in a few minutes. Through the open door, she could see a torch burning inside the small library, making the room seem warm and inviting. She hesitated, wondering what Atlantis was doing now. “Can you wait out here?” she asked Sarah. “If anything happens, get Athelea straightaway.”

  Sarah nodded, and Victoria stepped through the opening. To her relief, nobody else was in the room, and the stone doors stayed open behind her. Even though she’d only been here briefly before, she could tell that somebody had been here since her last visit. All the books were back in their shelves.

  “Everything okay?” Sarah called.

  “Athelea’s cleaned up the books since the last time we were here,” Victoria said. She noticed now that quite a few of the books were dexologs, and the only book in the entire library that wasn’t in a shelf was lying open on the table. Victoria walked up to it, curious to see what Athelea had been reading. From the formation of lines and names across the page, she could tell it was a long and complicated family tree. She ran a finger along the soft parchment, recognizing the name at the very top. Atlas.

  Victoria hesitated. She didn’t want to pry too deeply into Athelea’s personal life, but she was too intrigued to stop herself. She would tell us anyway, if we asked.

  Beneath Atlas were many names Athelea hadn’t mentioned. At the bottom, Victoria found Athelea’s name linked with Tristan, whose name someone had handwritten as an apparent afterthought. This might be the royal copy of the family tree, Victoria mused. Not many people knew they were married. Beneath the line joining them together, a single word was written in an elegant script. It wasn’t a date, like Victoria had expected, but rather a name that nearly made her pulse stop.

  Not Gryffin.

  Victoria.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  THE TRUTH

  Victoria didn’t say a single word during the journey back to the Isle of the Gods. She had been wrong about Gryffin. Lost in the storm of her emotions, growing from disbelief to confusion to anger, she ignored curious glances from Sarah, who had the intuition to not ask what was wrong. They met Athelea in the Garden of the Gods, and as soon as they confirmed that Athelea’s hand had healed, Sarah excused herself to retrieve her notebook from their bedroom. Victoria hoped Sarah had the sense to take her time.

  “You should have told me!” Victoria shouted at Athelea, blinking back tears, as soon as Sarah was out of sight. Anger and betrayal burned in her blood. “You left me for seventeen years without one word, and I’ve always wanted so badly to know my parents! You should have told me the second you saw me here in Atlantis, if you suspected for even a moment that I was your daughter!”

  “Would you have believed me?” Athelea asked softly.

  Victoria fell silent, knowing what the honest answer was. Not immediately. After so many years of believing her parents were dead, it was impossible to imagine any other truth. The more she thought about her relationship with Athelea, the more sense everything made, but she still didn’t understand how it was possible. The myths said Atlantis had disappeared thousands of years ago. I can’t have been born so long ago, Victoria thought. “What does it even matter now?” she returned, evading the answer. “You were probably never going to tell me, anyway.”

  Athelea flinched at the accusation. “Please sit down and listen to me, Victoria,” she said, gesturing to the edge of the pool. After a second, Victoria reluctantly sat down, took off her sandals, and dipped her feet into the water. Now that she’d exorcised her initial anger, she felt slightly more willing to listen. “I knew who you were from the moment I saw you, but I wanted to tell you the truth when I thought you could handle it, and when I was ready to reveal it. I knew how difficult this conversation would be, and naturally, I was hesitant. I stopped telling my story early the other night because I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but I see now that was a mistake.”

  “It was a mistake,” Victoria retorted “I knew you were hiding something from me.”

  “Would you like me to finish the story now?” Athelea prompted. “You can be angry with me forever, but I only ask that you listen for a moment so I can tell you the full truth.”

  Victoria hesitated one last time. Even if this wasn’t how she imagined learning about her parents, she had wanted to know the truth for years. She nodded, knowing she’d never be more ready.

  “Do you want to wait until Sarah returns?”

  Victoria shook her head. She needed more time to process this news before she believed it herself, let alone dared to tell anyone else. Athelea didn’t question her decision, and Victoria took the opportunity to prompt the conversation. She had to hear the words directly from Athelea. “What happened after Tristan left?”

  Athelea met her gaze steadily. “My mother was the first to realize I was pregnant with Tristan’s child, and she became my support until the end. When my father finally found out the truth, it took him months to accept that I had so explicitly defied his wishes.” She lowered her gaze hesitantly, and Victoria could only imagine the arguments that must have followed. “But I gave birth to a beautiful daughter, who is now sitting next to me. In the end, my father loved you even more than he loved Atlantis. He believed the prophecies that you would save the empire, and he was indebted to you until the very end. He repented for separating me from my Forever Love and amended the laws to support our marriage.”

  Victoria took a deep breath. Even if she hadn’t wanted to believe Athelea, she could feel the truth in her blood. It was impossible to deny, however incredible it seemed, and she wondered how she hadn’t realized it the second she met Athelea. The Garden briefly flashed out of focus, as her eyes flooded with tears, and she was glad she’d sat down.

  “If Tristan had survived the war, I am sure you would have been the focus of his life,” Athelea said. She took an unsteady breath, and her eyes overflowed with tears. “I loved you before I ever saw you, and saying goodbye to you during the Destruction, even for your own safety, nearly destroyed me. I had no idea if I would ever see you again, and I am eternally so very sorry it had to be that way. I missed your entire childhood and the chance to see you grow from a beautiful baby into an even more beautiful young woman.”

  “And we both know what happened after that,” Victoria concluded. “Everything I actually know about.”

  “I was so relieved to see through your memories that Aiden and Andrea have cared for you like their own child, though you share no blood.”

  Victoria stopped waving her feet in the pool. “They are not related to me? I thought Andrea was my mother’s sister.”

  “I believe your guardians are of Atlantean descent,” Athelea said, “which we can confirm later, but they not related to you by blood. I had no family to look after you, but I wanted Atlanteans to raise you so you could maintain some sort connection with your heritage, should you ever return to Atlantis. The dex that I used to send you away guided you to an Atlantean family at a time and place the dex felt was best. I hope they’ve been the best family and provided the best home you could have wished for.”

  “They never spoke about it, but they must have known,” Victoria said. “I mentioned Atlantis once after I discovered the mirror, and Andrea just walked away. I thought she was furious with me, but I didn’t think to ask why.”

  “I cannot speak on their behalf,” Athelea said, “but what I’ve told you is my complete and truthful story, and I have no more secrets to hide. I’m sorry if you feel I’ve delayed revealing the truth, but I’m sure you understand how difficult this is for me, too.”

  Victoria took a deep breath, sensing the importance of this moment. “I’m sorry I got upset with you, too,” she said. “It’s been a stressful week.”

  “You are perfectly within your rights to be upset,” Athelea said with a smile that indicated all was forgiven. “Out of curiosity, how did you find out?”

  Victoria laughed, realizing how unexpected her accusations must have been to Athelea. She relayed the events of the morning, still hardly believing that the
woman sitting next to her was her mother.

  “A few days before I came to Atlantis, I kept running into this boy in England,” Victoria added, deciding that now was time to tell the truth herself. “His name was Gryffin. He had the Sentence on his wrist, and he stole the maps I had drawn of Atlantis. I was absolutely convinced he was your son, but I was terrified to ask you or mention him.”

  Athelea’s eyes widened. “He had the Sentence?”

  Victoria nodded. “And he seemed to be skilled at disappearing. I think he has dexterity.”

  “I don’t know how he could be Atlantean, though he does seem to have the traits,” Athelea admitted. She looked toward the Royal Tower and stood up, sighing. “Sarah is approaching now. Let’s talk more about this boy later. Until then, if you have enough energy, we could still go to the Isle of Time today. It’s only noon.”

  Victoria had nearly forgotten about their excursion. She still had so many questions for Athelea, but they could wait. The prospect of finally being able bring the Atlanteans back was more important. Sarah joined them a few minutes later, and the women made their way to the port on the main island, further down the coast from Shipwreck Beach, without delay.

  Victoria had never been here before, but something about the calm harbor charmed her instantly. A wide, stone pier reached towards the horizon, and considering the current population of Atlantis, a surprising number of old boats were tied up along the docks. Some seemed large enough to hold an army, and others were simple rowboats. Victoria suspected they were all more advanced and powerful than they appeared.

  “The boat we will use today is at the end of the pier,” Athelea said. Victoria felt a pang of sadness as she imagined the port thousands of years ago, with the navy and merchants navigating their vessels through the busy harbor. Every time she thought about how much Atlantis and Athelea had lost, she felt a stronger need to make everything right. Soon, she reminded herself, hopefully.