“It’s really her,” I breathed, feeling fascinated and scared at the same time.
“A spirit,” Tristan murmured, the same awe and caution in his tone.
A splash alerted me to the dropping of the anchor, and before I knew what was happening, Captain MacDonald was in a long boat, rowing toward the island at a steady pace. The mermaids swarmed around him, some of them beaching themselves as he made landfall. Isobel stood as his feet touched the sand, but remained where she was.
Keeping his attention focused ahead of him, Captain MacDonald held a hand out to her, as if asking her to stay there for a moment, and then approached the gatekeeper.
“What do you think he’s saying to her?” I whispered, the entirety of the crew watching him.
“He’ll have to explain what’s happening in our world, I imagine,” Mark answered softly, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the rail.
“I suppose he’ll have to convince her to let us all in the gate,” Tristan added. “What that will take, I don’t know.”
Captain MacDonald turned around then, surprise on his face, and waved at us.
“She’s agreed to let us through,” Dagger said in surprise, still standing at the helm.
“That quickly?” Abella asked sharply, disbelief in her tone.
“Everyone, to the boats.” Dagger, seeming to snap from his shock, started moving, ordering the vessels brought up and for everyone to get onboard.
Scrambling, the men did as he asked, all of us loading into the tiny crafts and lowering ourselves into the water. Around us, the mermaids slipped through the surf, some simply staring at us as we moved forward. One of them, the strange octopus one, surfaced right beside Dagger, causing everyone in the boat to jump.
“We will guard your ship,” he said in a throaty tone, his accent thick and almost like that of the islanders I’d met on Hispaniola.
“Thank you,” Dagger replied weakly, apparently no accustomed to speaking with the warriors.
We cut through the water easily, the shamans making a path for us as we rowed ourselves to the shore, bewildered and surprised. Until this moment, I didn’t think any of us had actually expected to be let into the city. We had all hoped it, and told each other that it would happened, but I was realizing now that everyone had been skeptical.
Cautiously, we moved across the beach, pulling the boats from the water, until we were all standing in the sand, an anxious air about us all.
“Welcome,” Zaka called, her voice booming through the area. “Don’t be shy. I won’t bite you, though I can’t say the same for some of my friends.” She laughed when we all remained silent. “Come, come! We have much traveling to do still and many things for you to discover. You are expected.”
“We are?” I asked, not able to help myself in my continuing surprise.
“Yes, Samantha,” Zaka replied, a knowing expression on her face. “All of you. The spirits told us of your arrival some time ago. We’ve been waiting most excitedly.”
This comment seemed to relax some of us, while putting others more on edge. Unfortunately, I was in the second group. I couldn’t help but remember the last time I’d talked with a priestess. The conversation had ended in a generous amount of vomit and an opium headache from hell.
Whether she realized what impact her words had or not, the gatekeeper turned her back on us then, waving her hands high above her head. Suddenly, the palm trees began to twist and shake, bending until they formed an archway. A path unlike anything I’d seen before stretched out on the other side, no sign of the ocean or anything familiar gracing the trail. It was simply a long tunnel, leading down, the end of it disappearing from view.
“This will take you from the edge of the spirit realm into the heart of it,” Zaka said, facing us. “Shall we begin?”
The group faltered, whispering amongst each other. Finally, Captain MacDonald stepped forward, nodding.
“Will!”
Isobel’s voice made him freeze, his body turned away from her. Her pleading tone made even my heart hurt for her. It was clear she desperately wanted to speak with him, but for some reason she didn’t force him to listen to her.
“You don’t have to converse with any spirit you don’t want to,” Zaka said softly, watching him. “You know this. I’ve told you many times. Isobel will only approach you if you let her.”
Captain MacDonald nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping some. “I ken. Yer promise on that is the only reason I was able to come speak with ye myself today.” His voice was soft, hurt even. Then, straightening, he seemed to find the resolve he wanted. “Lead the way, Zaka. I’m not here to speak with any spirits, just yet.”
“What a very Will thing to say.”
Isobel met my stare with a frown, annoyance written all over her face. Apparently, what Zaka had said was true, though. The spirit sat on her log, staring at the ocean, her arms folded tightly across her body. A tear ran down her cheek and she brushed it away angrily, unable to say what she wanted to the man she had loved.
Turning to the captain, I saw that he had flinched at her words, but refused to look at her all the same.
“This way,” Zaka stated, stepping into the tunnel and began moving along the path.
The crew followed apprehensively, filing past the captain until only he, Tristan, and I were left. Catching his eye as I passed, I glanced at him questioningly.
Smiling sadly, he motioned for me to continue, following us into the tunnel as it closed behind everyone. “Now isn’t the time, ye ken? She may not like it, but I have to take care of my crew first.”
Tall, ominous trees surrounded our path, their heavy branches weighted with vines and leaves, some of which were bigger than my entire body. The roots spread across the ground like spider webs, camouflaged underneath other strange plants. It felt more like we were wading through the jungle instead of walking through it.
Wiping my hair off my sweaty forehead and out of my face, I stared in awe at the strange birds peeking down at us. Snakes lazily wrapped around the limbs of the plants, watching the procession with sleepy eyes. In fact, animals of every kinds seemed to be peering at us from their resting places. Some of them I recognized, but others were like things from a dream. Lightning bugs floated here and there on the air too, some of them apparently giggling together. The only thing that stood out to me was the same thing I’d noticed about Isobel—they had no aura. We were surrounded by spirits, this strange land filled to the brim with life and yet lacking that one thing entirely.
Glancing over my shoulder, I suppressed the shudder that tried to creep across me at the sight of the red headed spirit leaning against a tree behind the group. She’d been following us slowly, keeping her distance and remaining quiet, but I could tell that Captain MacDonald was acutely aware of her presence. He was tense and kept his eyes forward, his hand gripped tightly around the handle of his hammer. Now that we were moving deeper into the spirit realm, the strange shimmer around it had intensified, making it almost impossible to look at the thing without squinting.
“Why does it do that?” I asked him, pushing a branch to the side as we followed the end of the group. Tristan was beside me, but Mark and Abella had moved farther into the crowd, listening as Zaka told them some story about spirits who lived here.
“Hmm?” Captain MacDonald glanced at me questioningly and then the hammer in his hand. “Oh, Sheila? It’s magic, lass. Ye canna see it in our realm, but it’s hard to keep secrets in this one, ye ken?”
“Magic?” Surprised, I stopped, staring at the weapon with newfound interest. “You mean like a wand, or something?”
Laughing, he shook his head. “No. It’s enchanted to protect its owner. No one who means me harm can take it from me. That’s how I kent ye dinna intend to do anything to me or my crew when ye were discovered. Ye took her from me during that first fight, do ye remember?”
Smiling broadly, I nodded. “I do. I never would have imagined fighting with a mallet would be so exciting.”
That made him chuckle again and he motioned for me to continue, using the hammer to push some bushes aside for me.
“How did you come across it?” I asked, curious. “Was it the witch you knew? What did you say about her? That she was the most interesting person you’d ever had the privilege of knowing?”
Peering back, I saw as his face fell, a shadow crossing his features. In the background, Isobel stiffened as well, her own expression matching his.
Understanding filled me and I bit my lip, regretting I had asked at all. “Oh.”
“Aye,” he replied roughly.
Tristan, clearing his throat, took my hand, pushing me ahead of him as we climbed a small hill, the group moving into a single file line as the foliage became denser around us.
The conversation died after that, everyone trying to catch our breath as we followed Zaka deeper into the jungle. Shadows flitted about us, a strange humming to the air, and I slowly found myself wondering if we would be lost in this place for eternity, always walking and never reaching our destination.
Finally, the trees broke apart, revealing the start of a wide river. There were long boats on the shore, all without paddles or means of directing them. They appeared more like plain, hollowed logs than the elegant designs I would have expected. Twelve men could easily fit in one of the small vessels and we filed into three of them.
“Interesting,” Mark said as he sat behind me, Abella taking the seat by his side. “Look at these carvings.” He pointed to some hieroglyphics on the inside of the hull. The markings swept along the inside of the boat, covering every surface but the benches we sat on. They must have been a mixture of languages. Some I recognized—like a few Egyptian marks by my foot—and others were completely foreign.
As we examined the marks, a soft glow seemed to seep into them, lighting up with the same fuzzy haze that surrounded the captain’s hammer. The magic filled the air, the writing glowing bright white, and then the boats gently moved forward, gliding across the water.
The entire group remained silent as we moved. The water was teeming with fish and even a few mermaids who stopped to watch as we passed by. Zaka stood in the nose of the first boat, facing forward, unmoving. Her hands were held at her sides, palms facing forward and I had the impression that she was concentrating, using her power to direct all of us through the realm.
After a while, large cliffs rose in the distance, ominous and foreboding. The closer we got, the more apparent it became that the waterway was going to cut through them.
“Do you think that’s where the city is?” I asked Tristan quietly, clutching his hand in my own.
“I don’t know, love,” he whispered. “I hope so. Being here in the open makes me feel uneasy, like I’m being watched.”
Nodding, I stared toward the heavens, catching sight of a black face with a bird’s beak staring at us. “Well, we’re definitely being watched.” My mutter caused him to shift uneasily, the cliff face rising above us.
“Zaka.”
Captain MacDonald’s voice filled the air, a strong sense of curiosity and caution to his tone. He wasn’t in our boat, or the shaman’s, and I rose slightly, trying to see him over the heads of everyone. When I finally found him, I saw that he was staring over the edge of his boat, as were the men around him.
“What is that?”
Curious, I peered into the water just beyond the edge of our own vessel and sucked in a breath. The black machine was just like the pictures I’d seen, the design outdated and long left in the past. “It’s an airplane!”
Scanning the crystal clear water, I saw more aircraft, resting peacefully along the bottom of the river. They looked as if they were brand new, frozen in time and forgotten in this place.
“Airplane?”
The word was foreign to most of the people around me, many of them muttering it in confusion and leaning over the edge in bewilderment. Tristan, on the other hand, practically threw himself to the edge, peering into the liquid with wild eyes and excitement.
“Truly?” he asked me. “That’s an airplane?”
“An old one,” I told him, laughing. “But yes. They’re mostly the same in my time, but the machinery is different, more advanced.”
“This is something from yer time.” Wonder filled his voice as he turned to me. “I’m seeing something from yer time. Something I thought I would never lay eyes on. This is . . . incredible, Samantha.” His gaze returned to the airplane, a strange sense of fear and apprehension about him. “Ye told me about it, but I don’t think I ever realized just how advanced a time ye were from. And this is old, ye say!” Swallowing roughly, he considered me again, emotion I hadn’t expected filling his face. “Ye gave it up, for me. Ye gave up flying for me. Ye abandoned a world filled with things like this to be with me?”
Struck by his words, I felt my reply get stuck in my throat, tears gathering in my eyes. Nodding, I smiled. “That world didn’t have you,” I said softly. “I can live without flying and without machines. But I can’t live without you.”
Grabbing me roughly by the neck, he pulled me forward, crushing my mouth with his own in a show of passion I hadn’t felt from him in some time.
Behind us, someone cleared their throat uncomfortably, a slight snicker brushing past my ears from the other side. Blushing, I pulled away, grinning all the same.
“What’s an airplane?” Abella asked, confused.
“People in the future are able to travel by air, like birds,” Mark told her. “In machines like this. This one isn’t for travel, though. It’s a fighter plane, from around the World War II era, I would guess.”
“I think so,” I agreed, turning to inspect them again.
His words didn’t seem to make much sense to her, but she nodded, scrutinizing the craft below. “So many of them,” she said slowly. “How did they end up here?”
Mark frowned as I looked at him, his attention turning to the flagship of our little group. “Yes, how did they get here?”
Zaka glanced over her shoulder at us, smiling. “Sometimes, things and people that shouldn’t be here get caught in the triangle. More often than not, they manage to break free, but some of them are brought to this place.”
“What happens to the people?” Glancing at the empty cockpits, I swallowed hard, thankful that there were no skeletons inside.
“They are welcomed into the city.” Shrugging, she continued to guide us along the waterway, the planes disappearing from view as we rounded a corner of one of the cliffs. “They are dead in their own time, but we offer them the chance to continue living in the service of the spirits.”
“And if they refuse?” Mark sounded highly skeptical as he asked.
“They are left to their own. There’s much more to the spirit realm than what you see here, Mark Bell. Atlantis is not always what a soul is seeking. We do not keep those who wish to wander from doing so.”
The rocks opened around us then and the group took a collective gasp. Where we had hoped to see the city was a graveyard of ships, the broken and battered vessels leaning against rocks and submerged in the water. Some of them looked like galleons or other ships that would be sailing in Tristan’s time. Others were closer to my own time, or even older than the both of us. Ripped and tattered sails hung lifeless, the boats seeming to silently wail of the horrors and tribulations they had felt. Propellers dug into the riverbed, gleaming in their unmoving state. Fish swam through shattered portholes, sand covering some ships almost completely.
“How can all of this be here?” I asked, staring at it all in awe. “From so many times and so many different places?”
“The Web of Life encompasses all times and life,” Zaka replied.
“Everything is suspended here, like Captain MacDonald said,” Mark muttered behind me.
Slowly, we navigated around the ship graveyard, twisting and turning through the canyon, watching as all sorts of crafts passed by in varying states of disarray and perfection. The more we saw, the more I rea
lized just how many people must have disappeared to this realm.
A shudder passed through me. It was one thing to visit here of my own free will, but to be trapped? I didn’t know if I would have been one of the souls content with staying in Atlantis. There had to be more than this after death, especially if there was truth in all things. What about Heaven and Hell? What about reincarnation and all the other thoughts and ideals about death and what came after life?
Suddenly, the cliffs opened up around us, the river turning to a large lake. Ahead, the most magnificent city I’d ever seen rested, shining in the light of dusk like a beacon from another world. Waterfalls cascaded over the edges of the city walls, tumbling across the ridges of the pyramid shaped civilization. There were buildings on each level, as well as gates and guards, magic buzzing in the air. Music also flitted past my ears, a hum of voices joining the symphony of sounds. Plants drooped their limbs over the walls, painting the white glare with a soft green. Animals appeared here and there, some minding their own business, others watching us with interest.
“Zaka!”
The call drew my attention to the side and I saw another boat much like ours, several fishermen holding nets waving at us. Fish held still in the trap, seeming as if they had voluntarily been captured.
“Welcome!” they called, smiling like we were their long lost friends, returning home at last.
“Look at the top of it,” Tristan said, pulling my attention back to the city.
A large geyser was shooting from the top of the city, the source of all the waterfalls and the lake and river we’d just sailed on.
“The Fountain of Youth,” I said in awe.
Zaka, lowering her hands, turned to face all of us, a huge smile on her face. “Welcome, my friends, to the City of Atlantis.”
A tall guard, his skin dark and tattooed, nodded to us as we sailed by, through the opening in the wall. As we passed the thundering waterfalls and crept into the outer part of the city, I felt yet another wave of amazement wash over me.
Hidden Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book Three) Page 29
