by N E Riggs
David twitched. “Atlantis?” he said, but Alosh had already left and didn’t hear him. David stuck a finger in his ear and twisted it around, thinking maybe he had a lot of earwax and had misheard. Alosh couldn’t have really said Atlantis. That was a legend from Earth.
He found Anur, Niam, and Conal waiting together in the lounge. He joined them and asked, “Have you heard the name of the world where we’re going today?”
“It was Atlantis, wasn’t it?” Conal said. “I can’t wait – I’ve seen pictures.”
“That can’t be right.” David shook his head. “Atlantis is a legend on my home world. It’s some city that sunk thousands of years ago.”
Niam nodded. “Sounds like Atlantis. It did sink thousands of years ago. Some of the spires are still above the waters, and that’s where the people live. They’ve never tried building a new city. I think they like it better now, living half in the sea.”
Anur and Conal didn’t look worried either. David stared at each of them in turn. “Didn’t you hear me? This is mad. Atlantis is a made-up place from my world. It can’t be real.”
“Lots of worlds exist as legends on other worlds,” Niam laughed. “People from your world have traveled to Bantong before, haven’t they?”
“Um, yeah, I think so.” He thought he remembered Brigid saying gateways to Earth used to be much more common.
“Well, when they traveled here and back, they brought stories from Bantong with them, and stories of other worlds too. That’s how you’ve heard of Atlantis,” Niam said. David looked at Conal and Anur, who both nodded in agreement. Maybe that was why there were stories about griffins and werewolves too – because they were real on another world.
Hue entered the lounge. “Time to move, people,” he said. They all gathered together their weapons and armor and followed Hue to the elevator. Most of the sixth division was already waiting near the gateways. Once everyone was there, Hue took his place beside Rolan. “We will be traveling to Atlantis,” Hue said. “They’ve recently had a large influx of monsters, and they can no longer deal with it by themselves.”
Rolan continued, “As Atlantis is mostly underwater, you will take a life preserver and an oxygen tank with you.” He opened the large box beside him. One by one, the Sword Priests equipped themselves. David put the life preserver on over his heavy jacket. The oxygen tank was much smaller than anything on Earth. David clipped it to his belt on the opposite side from Bramira, attaching the nozzle to a strap on the shoulder of his jacket, like the other Sword Priests had done. “Spend as little time in the water as possible,” Rolan said once everyone was suited up. “It isn’t safe.” Then he stepped through the gateway.
The other side of the gateway opened onto a large boat. Though the water was rocky, the boat only bobbed around a little – it must be anchored to the bottom. Canoes large enough for five people each were tethered to the boat, and the Sword Priests climbed into them. It was cold here, and damp. The evening air was filled with mist, and David could only see a few feet in front of him. The water was dark and murky; probably polluted, David thought.
He sat in a boat with Anur, Niam, Conal, and Bellon, and it felt nice to be back with his group of former acolytes. They worked well together, despite their differences. They rowed slowly, their canoe near the center of the group.
As they made their way slowly across the sea, a cry came from a canoe on the far left. David whirled just in time to see the canoe tip over. The Sword Priests in the nearby canoes jumped into the water to help. There was lots of splashing near the capsized canoe. Just beneath the water, David thought he saw a brief, red light, as if someone had fired their agitator.
Hue padded his canoe over quickly to help. The Sword Priests who’d jumped in the water to help slowly pulled four people up, pushing the canoe upright. “Where’s Kay?” Hue asked.
“I don’t know,” answered one of the Sword Priests from the canoe that had tipped over. “Just before we went over, something grabbed him. I saw the hand.”
“Keep looking,” Hue said grimly. The Priests pulled their oxygen masks over their faces and dove beneath the waves.
David sat tensely, waiting as the minutes crawled past. His stomach twisted itself into knots as the Priests continued to search. “Look!” cried a Sword Priest as he emerged from the water, holding something. Hue took it, his face dark. David squinted, trying to see what it was. A moment later he realized it was an oxygen mask.
Hue and Rolan shared a look. “Get back in your canoes,” Rolan said.
“But, sir, Kay—” said one of the Sword Priests in the water.
“Is without his oxygen mask,” Rolan said softly. “He’s been under too long. Get back in your canoes.” The Sword Priests slowly pulled themselves out of the water, their faces long. David shivered. It had all happened so quickly. He stared down at the murky water surrounding them. There were monsters here on Atlantis; that was why they were here. What if those monsters lived beneath the waters, pulling people down to their deaths?
They rowed more slowly after that, frequently looking down at the sea. Every little ripple he saw, David was convinced was a monster, ready to rise between the waves and drag him under. He thought about putting on his oxygen mask in advance, but no one else had. Now that’s peer pressure, he thought, holding his oar tightly.
Soon David could see dark shapes protruding from the water ahead of them. He thought they might be rocks at first, but as they got closer he saw the shapes were too regular to be natural.
Buildings, he realized as they rowed slowly closer. Narrow spires rose above the waters, damp and covered in lichen and shells and dead fish. He squinted into the water, but it was too murky for him to see how far down the buildings went. There were a few spires clustered together then a gap before they saw another group. Other than an old canoe drifting by itself and a light at the top of one spire, David had yet to see any sign of life. He wished they could use real boats, ones with motors, but he guessed Atlantis must be a primitive world. Or, considering the spires all around him, maybe it hadn’t always been low-tech but now was.
They passed three small clusters of spires before a much wider and much taller structure appeared. It was miles wide, with many thick towers rising far above the waves. Lights hung off the spires and along the edge of the water. Rolan led them into an opening on the side of the large building. In a wide window just above the opening, David thought he saw people looking down at them.
The opening led to a dock. They tied up their canoes and climbed out to be met by a group of men. The men wore tight, slick clothes, like deep sea divers. They had oxygen tanks too but no life preservers. Most of the men carried long, viciously sharp spears. They were brown-skinned with dark hair, and they didn’t look very friendly.
When a young man appeared, the other locals parted to let him through. His clothes were dyed purple, and he wore a loose purple shirt over the top that went down to his thighs. He looked about the same age as Anur, Conal, Niam, and Bellon. Rolan stepped up to greet him. “I am Steward Rolan Duran,” he said, holding up three fingers on each hand and folding his arms across his chest. “This is the sixth traditional division.”
“I am Prince Luei,” said the young man, studying the Sword Priests. Though he didn’t smile, he shifted constantly, as if he could barely contain his excitement. “Let me take you to my father.”
The inside of the building was damp – the floor was sticky with seaweed and littered with shells. Algae grew on the walls, which were colored a murky aqua. The lights gave off a dull, greenish glow. If David lived in a half-sunken city like this, he’d want his home as dry and removed from the water as possible, but apparently the people of Atlantis thought differently.
At least no one would ever be able to sneak around in a place like this. David’s boots splashed loudly, and, when they finally reached a drier corridor, they squeaked instead.
Luei finally brought them to a large room with a high ceiling. Blue-tinged skylights let in he
avily filtered sunlight. The floor was now made of some squishy material that made walking awkward. Dead sea creatures decorated the walls: David saw squids, sharks, rays, and every type of fish imaginable. More disturbing, just behind the throne was what looked like the corpse of an old man. David squinted at it more closely, and saw the old man had scaly skin, hair like seaweed, and gills. Not human, then, whatever it was. He swallowed and wondered if a creature like that had drowned Kay.
A number of people stood around the throne, also dressed in wet suits though, like Luei, they had loose shirts on top. An older man sat on the throne, wearing a purple shirt and a crown made of pearls. He had a long, white beard and hair and even though he was old he was still muscular. He stared at the Sword Priests, expressionless.
“Father,” Luei said, bowing his neck to the king. “This is Steward Rolan Duran and the sixth division. They just arrived.” He turned to Rolan and gestured towards the king. “My father, King Palop.”
Rolan bowed low, arms crossed with three fingers up like before, the other Sword Priests bowing a moment later. David was sure his bow was incredibly awkward, since he’d never bowed before, but hopefully no one would notice. He stood near the back of the group, so they might not ever see him.
“Your Majesty,” Rolan said, walking up till he was a few steps away from the throne. “We were told you’ve had an influx of monsters lately. We received confirmation of that on our trip here. One of my men drowned even though he had an oxygen mask.”
The king didn’t react to that, but Luei flinched. “Our world has always been inhabited by vodyanois,” Palop said. “Over a thousand years ago, they were the ones who caused the waters to rise, covering all the earth and taking the lower levels of our great city. We fought them, drove them back before they could do more damage. Since then, we have always had encounters with vodyanois, but never in any great numbers. They attack lone fishermen, never groups. But they have become bolder, their attacks more frequent. Our supply of fish grows slim even as they kill many of our people. I need you to hunt them down.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Rolan said. “Any information you have on them – the times and places of attacks, for starters – would be useful. If the vodyanois hide under the water, there might not be much we can do.” The other people in the throne room murmured softly amongst themselves at that.
“Luei will get you all the information you need,” Palop said. “A room has been set aside for your division.”
Rolan nodded, and Luei led them out the throne room. As they walked, David wondered. Lunari too had always had werewolves, but they’d become stronger and more numerous. Maybe it was because he’d watched too much television, but he didn’t think this was a coincidence. He’d mention it to Alosh, see what he thought.
Rather than many small rooms, Luei brought them a large, single room two stories up. Rows of beds filled the room, and David picked one between Alosh and Conal’s beds. Luei said he’d be back soon with the information, and he left them alone.
“I don’t like this,” Hue said to Rolan. He didn’t bother whispering. “I’ve read reports on vodyanois. They’re shy creatures. They never attack groups. They mostly hunt by night too, or so I’ve always heard.”
“There is something more than just an influx of monsters,” Rolan said. “We will see what Luei brings us.”
When those two finished talking, the Sword Priests starting chatting amongst themselves as they settled in. David was going to mention his suspicions to Alosh when Conal tugged his sleeve. He turned to see that Conal’s face was pinched. “What is it?”
Conal winced. He looked around and leaned closer to David. He whispered, “I can’t swim.”
“Seriously?” David blinked. That was one thing they’d never practiced during their three months of training. “Not at all?”
“Maybe a little, but not well,” Conal said, still speaking quietly. “What should I do?”
David considered. “Stay in the canoes, I guess? Make sure you have your life preserver and oxygen mask, definitely.” He didn’t think they’d go diving after these vodyanois. Seeing what had happened to Kay, getting in the water was clearly dangerous. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know.”
Conal rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Can you swim?”
“I’m pretty good, yeah,” David shrugged.
“Then I’m going to stick close to you.”
David glanced around. No one seemed interested in their conversation. “Wouldn’t it be better to hang around Anur, Niam, or Bellon? They can probably swim. And Niam wouldn’t make fun of you for not knowing.” Every single free moment they had, Conal and Niam seemed to spend together, seeing how far down the other’s throat they could get their tongues. Anur made faces at them, but David thought it was kind of cute. He remembered being like that with his girlfriends when he’d been that age. Of course, at that age he’d gone through girlfriends with frightening speed. The first few years after his parents’ deaths, he’d been unable to commit to anyone for more than a few weeks.
“I’d rather not,” Conal said. “Niam would be sweet, and Anur would try to be understanding, but you know what it’s like to be bad at something.” David scowled at that, and Conal shrugged. “Sorry.”
Conal was right, though. Unlike the others, David did know what it was like being bad at something. The others would try to understand, but David didn’t have to try. “We’ll stick together while we’re here,” he promised.
“Thanks,” Conal said, grinning.
Luei returned a few minutes later with rolled up maps and stacks of paper. Hue tacked the maps onto the walls of the room, and he, Luei, and Rolan started going through the papers. David watched as Hue placed dots on the map, writing dates beside them. It was a strange map, since there were few landmasses. He wondered how Luei knew where the attacks had taken place when there were so few landmarks. Maybe they used GPS or something.
Hue drew more and more dots on the map. Had there really been that many attacks? Or maybe Luei just had years and years of data for them to go through. He remembered his theory from earlier and turned to Alosh. “There seem to be a lot of monsters lately,” he said.
Alosh gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “Yes there are. Duh. Why do you think Sword Priests exist?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” David said, rolling his eyes. “The king said the vodyanois have been attacking more often. And on Lunari, the werewolves had gotten more powerful.”
“That happens naturally,” Conal said, reclined on his bed. “Something will change in the local environment so the conditions will become more favorable for the monsters. They multiply, grow stronger, and attack more often. Remember that on Lunari, it was some crazy alchemist who made the werewolves more powerful.”
David’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I guess so.” He’d forgotten about that.
Alosh ran a hand through his hair. “You aren’t completely wrong either.” He lowered his voice. “Since the desolation began, monsters on all worlds have become more numerous and more powerful. We never knew just how much Aeons did for us until he left.” He folded his hands in his lap and twiddled his thumbs.
“How did Aeons affect the monsters?” David asked. “Did he help you fight them?”
“Sometimes,” Conal said. “No one really knows how, but his mere presence seems to affect the worlds. There are lots of theories about it, and maybe High Priest Anan knows.” He shrugged. “That’s why the desolation is so bad. It’s not just that people are depressed because he left. Without him, things don’t work like they’re supposed to.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping.
David glanced between Alosh and Conal. They both hunched over, looking miserable. People didn’t like talking about the desolation; he’d learned that much already. It made them depressed.
He wondered if Conal was right, if somehow, just by being there, Aeons made things better. He thought of the punishment for Met Prous and the resulting protests. Had such things happened while
Aeons was still on Bantong? Considering how widespread the protests had been, and how many reporters had been filming them, he thought not.
He should change the conversation before Alosh and Conal got too depressed. He couldn’t think of anything, but was saved when King Palop entered the room a few minutes later.
“Your Majesty,” Rolan said. He bowed quickly while he tried not to look surprised. “I had no idea you’d be joining us here. We’re still studying the past attacks, trying to find patterns.” He gestured towards the maps on the walls.
The king sat down in a nearby chair, his face looking more creased than it had earlier. “We have more than vodyanoi attacks to worry about.” He took off his pearl crown. “There is a traitor in my court.”
Rolan and Hue looked between Palop and Luei. “What makes you think that?” Rolan asked.
Palop scowled and waved angrily at the map. “Can’t you see? As soon as the attacks grew more frequent, my hunters went out in their canoes, determined to hunt down as many vodyanois as they could find. At first, they had much success. Vodyanois sleep during the day, and a skilled hunter knows how to find their resting places. A few days after they started hunting vodyanois, fewer and fewer hunters made it home at the end of the day.” He gripped his crown tightly. “My hunters travel in packs, and they planned their hunts in advance. They didn’t want to miss any vodyanois or have any come up on them from behind.”
“That does not mean someone has shared those plans with the vodyanois,” Hue said.
“It does when they know every time we change our patterns!” Palop yelled, leaping to his feet. “Five times since it first happened have we changed our hunts. And every time, the vodyanois lie in wait, picking off the hunters on the edges of the groups. Once or twice is chance, I agree, but this goes far beyond that!”
Rolan nodded. “How many people know where the hunt will go in advance?”
Luei said, “Many people. All the courtiers and most of the hunters. At least one thousand people total.”
