Atlantis Reborn

by Gloria Craw

  When the stairs ended at the top floor, Claire lead me down a hallway. “The Laurel suite is at the end of this passage,” she explained. “It’s built into a corner of the Arx, so you have some of the best light and, in my opinion, the best view.”

  The walls continued to be white, but brightly painted doors were spaced at even intervals. Each one was a different color. Noting my interest, Claire pointed to one and remarked, “Each clan has its own color. The doors to their suites have been painted to match.” We reached the end of the passage, and she stopped in front of a light-blue door. “This is your suite,” she said, with a nod toward it.

  The paint on the door seemed fresh, but the wood underneath was cracked and split in some places. There were scratches, dents, and wormholes in others. It looked old and completely out of place in the modern interior of the Arx.

  “Are all the doors as old as this one?” I asked, running my finger lightly over it.

  She nodded. “They were in the original Arx, and that was built four thousand years ago.”

  Alarmed that I might damage such an antique, I pulled my hand away.

  “Don’t worry,” she chuckled. “They’ve been preserved and will outlast the both of us by millennia.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and noticed some odd markings near the top of the door. Squinting, I could just make out a worn carving of a wreath with vines and small flowers winding around it. A phrase had been carved under the wreath, but I couldn’t make out all the letters. “I recognize the Laurel seal,” I said, pointing to the wreath, “but what does that say underneath it?”

  “Guardian of the Good,” she responded. “It’s your clan moto. Each clan has a different one. The Falcos’ is Pillar to Hold. They’re written in our original language. If you’d like, I can give you a few lessons on reading it and direct you to some of the easier books in the library.”

  “I’d love that,” I replied gratefully.

  She touched a spot on the wall, and a panel opened. There was a lit screen inside, which she put her palm over. “This is set to open if the mark in your palm matches what has been programed,” she explained. After pushing a few buttons, she continued, “Now, put your hand on the screen.”

  I did and heard a clicking sound.

  “The suite is unlocked now,” Claire said. “You can go in.”

  When I turned the handle, the door glided open on its own.

  I flinched and then gasped as hundreds of dewing vibrations hit me all at once. Feeling like my skin was burning, I backed up until I was flat against the wall on the other side of the hallway.

  “What’s wrong,” Claire asked, hurrying to my side.

  “How many dewing are in there?”

  “None,” she replied with a shake of her head.

  “There have to be. I can feel hundreds of signatures.”

  It took a moment, but her confusion cleared. “Have you felt the signature of another Laurel before?” she asked.

  “Probably,” I replied, breathing hard. “But it would have been before my recall developed, so I can’t remember what it felt like.”

  She nodded as though that explained something. “There’s only one signature in there,” she said soothingly.

  I shook my head. “That can’t be right. I feel hundreds.”

  “You just need a moment to adjust. Try going in again.”

  I didn’t like the idea, but she seemed to know what she was talking about so I walked back to the threshold and stepped into the suite. The vibrations went from what seemed like a hundred to a couple dozen. Shaking my head in disbelief, I took a few more steps into the darkness, and the vibrations coalesced down to one.

  Relieved, I breathed a long breath.

  “You’re feeling the Laurel signature,” Claire said from somewhere behind me.

  I was momentarily elated by the idea there was another Laurel in the room…but I knew all too well it was impossible.

  “That can’t be right,” I said. “I’m the only Laurel alive, and I don’t have one.”

  “That’s true,” Claire responded, “but the Laurel signature is in the room anyway. ”

  She turned on the lights.

  “Holy crap,” I said, looking around.

  “That’s one way to describe it,” she agreed.

  Large wood shipping crates were strewn chaotically around the room I’d walked into.

  “The signature is coming from these,” she said, patting one. “They’re filled with very old Laurel things. Stuff that has been around our kind long enough take on some of our energy.”

  “I’m feeling the vibration of things?” I asked to clarify.

  “You’re feeling the energy of Laurels who once owned them,” she said.

  “Sort of like possessed stuff,” I muttered. “That’s new.”

  Claire chuckled. “You’ve got your work cut out for you going through all of it.”

  I shook my head at the enormity of the task.

  “This is your living room,” she remarked with a sweeping hand gesture. “I’ll show you the easiest way to get to your bedroom.” I followed her around the crates, and she said, “This suite was sealed after your grandparents stopped coming to the Arx. Not even dust has been able to get in. It smelled a bit musty, so I opened a window. It will take a couple of days to air out completely.”

  Considering everything else, musty-smelling rooms were the least of my concern.

  We made it to the doorway of another room, and I peeked inside. “This is the largest bedroom,” she said. “As you can see, large is a relative term.”

  It was a lovely room. Dark wood floors glowed with the warmth of age and wax, and moldings made from the same wood framed the high ceiling and a large window with a view of the ocean. Unfortunately, it was also filled with crates.

  “The other bedrooms are just as bad,” Claire said, with an apologetic look. “I left fresh sheets and a duvet on the end of each bed. I can help make them up if you’d like.”

  I shook my head. “No thanks. I’ll take care of it myself.”

  A rush of air drew my eyes to an open window in the living room.

  “I’d better close that,” she said, heading toward it.

  I followed, entranced by the view.

  The ocean growled and roared as gray storm clouds boiled through the sky above it. A violent wind whipped spray off the water, and waves built to white crests, which crashed thunderously down into froths of lacy foam.

  “I love days like this,” Claire said. “Seeing and hearing the power in the water is something I’ll never get tired of.”

  “It’s amazing,” I agreed.

  Turning her head to look up at me, she said, “No matter where we are in the world, a bit of us is always connected to this part of the sea. I think you’ll learn that for yourself soon enough.”

  I watched her close the window pane, wondering what she meant.

  “Welcome to the Arx, Miss Laurel,” she said.

  Chapter Five

  Standing in a towel with my hair tangled and wet, I looked at the two big suitcases Katherine sent ahead for me. There was a brush in one of them, but I had no idea which. Tucking the towel tight around myself, I lined the cases up on a crate, opened them, and started sorting through things.

  From the socks I’d bought at Old Navy to a cashmere sweater Katherine had bought at The Row, everything was new and still had the tags on. I could have gotten by with a lot less. A couple pair of jeans, some T-shirts, underwear, and my Vans would have served well for a week, but Katherine said there was an unofficial dress code when the chiefs got together. It was business casual…which, she explained, meant “no jeans.”

  Because I was pretty much an “all jeans, all the time” kind of girl, I begged her to help me choose the right sort of stuff. I’d ended up with shirts and slacks that need to be put on hangers. I separated those things out and squeezed through some crates to hang them in the closet. Then I began putting my other stuff in a dresser by the side of
the bed.

  Of course, my brush was under the last T-shirt I unpacked. By that time, the tangles in my hair were half dry. Irritated, I attempted to get the packaging off the brush and couldn’t. Stomping back to the bathroom, I searched for something to pry the plastic off with. Luckily, I found a pair of scissors in one of the drawers. They squeaked when I opened them but worked well enough to cut my brush free.

  I went to work trying to tame the snarled mess on my head and cursed my luck. The genetic lottery had given me tons of hair, but it was silky fine. In the hair-and-beauty industry, that’s what they call “a perfect storm.” My hair practically tied knots itself, and I’d let it grow longer than normal, so it was even worse.

  I’d been meaning to get a trim, but taking care of my hair, like so many other things, had been low on the list of my priorities. Tears sprang to my eyes when I tugged on a particularly nasty snarl and then something inside me snapped. Grabbing the scissors off the counter, I cut the snarl straight off. Twelve inches of my dark-brown hair fell to the floor along with it.

  I stared at it for a second, and then before I could change my mind, cut the same length off everywhere else. When I finished, my hair hung in a bob just above my shoulders. It was uneven in some places, but I’d just pull it into a stubby ponytail until Katherine got to the Arx. Then I’d ask her to help me fix it.

  Feeling lighter on the inside and the outside, I went back to my room and pulled on a pair of clean jeans. As I slipped a hoodie over my head, my jaw cracked with a yawn. Hours of travel were catching up with me fast. My body was beginning to ache all over, and my head felt light. Still, I wanted to wait to sleep. I would adjust to the time difference faster that way.

  I busied myself making up the bed, but it looked so inviting when I finished that I couldn’t resist crawling under the covers. I promised myself I’d just rest for a few minutes and then go find Claire or Logan. I wanted to ask them what the other clan chiefs were like.

  The detergent the duvet had been washed in smelled like the stuff my mom used. Heartache and longing followed quickly on the heels of that realization. I pinched my eyes closed so there was no room for tears to form and struggled to push thoughts of home out of my mind.

  I made myself think about the other clan chiefs again. Each of the fifteen clans had one chief or two, depending on whether the heir to the chiefdom had likenessed yet. After I was officially a clan chief, there would be twenty-seven of us.

  Ever since Atlantis sank, the dewing clan chiefs had been meeting in Cornwall on the solstices and equinoxes for ceremonies and roundtable meetings, where they discussed and then voted on stuff that affected all the dewing. I’d participate in my first roundtable meeting the day after my naming ceremony.

  In addition to Spencer and Katherine, I was acquainted with the Dawning and Stentorian clan chiefs. I also knew Phoebe Truss, who would be going through the naming ceremony with me to become the new Truss clan chief.

  I knew enough about the Ormolu and Illuminant chiefs’ previous decision to be worried about the ones they would make in the future, but I knew next to nothing about the other clan chiefs. I figured that would change quickly over the next few days.

  It was a shame getting to know the clan chiefs didn’t mean I could trust them.

  With that uneasy thought in mind, I drifted off to sleep.

  When I woke up, the sun was shining in my face. Blinking, I turned away from it and tried to remember where I was. When the memories came back, I hurriedly grabbed my phone off the nightstand. Checking the time, I groaned. Instead of a short nap, I’d slept until almost noon the next day.

  I rolled out of bed and stretched. It was disappointing to have slept a full day away, but at least my body had stopped aching.

  I walked to the bedroom window to see what the weather was like that day. The blustery storm had passed, leaving a clear ice-blue sky. The tide was out, and I could see a nice stretch of gold beach at the bottom of the cliffs.

  My thoughts were still a bit muddled. Hoping physical activity would help put things right, I changed into my workout clothes and hustled out of the suite. I was halfway down the stairs when I felt three new signatures.

  I was just learning to determine the characteristics of another dewing by their vibration but knew enough to tell they were all from the Vasitass clan, the same as Lillian. After a moment of concentration, I was sure one was a man and the others were women. The clan chiefs wouldn’t be arriving until the next day. I wondered if they were friends of Claire and Logan. With a shrug, I continued down the stairs and headed for the door. If they were still around after my run and a shower, I’d introduce myself.

  I let myself out and breathed in the tangy scent of salt water in the air. Feeling a burst of energy, I jogged away from the Arx at a quick pace. Following the road Logan drove along the day before, I noticed a patch of flattened beach grass. It led to the cliff’s edge, where a path twisted down to the beach.

  Deciding to explore, I zigzagged my way carefully down and around large boulders that had eroded from the side of the cliff. It was scary going. The way was steep, and I kept slipping on loose gravel. I felt sure there had to be an easier way to get down and made a mental note to ask Logan or Claire where it was.

  I got to the bottom without breaking an ankle and walked victoriously out onto the beach. It wasn’t the sort I’d bring a towel to for an hour of sunbathing. With the cliff behind it, there would always be a stiff breeze, and the sand was mixed with too many pebbles to be soft. The beach had craggy beauty to it, though.

  I picked up a pebble and threw it out into the ocean. A seagull dived after it, making me smile.

  When a frothy eddy rolled in close enough, I bent to touch the water with my fingers. As it washed over my hand, I felt a profound sense of belonging. In awe, I looked across the ocean. I thought I understood what Claire meant when she said a bit of us was connected to this part of the sea. In a way, I felt like it owned me.

  Shaking my head at that odd notion, I turned and headed down the beach at a jog.

  I kept going until the sand disappeared into the water and then turned back. I was getting close to the zigzag path that would take me up the cliff again when I sensed two Vasitass signatures ahead of me. A rockfall separated us, and since I didn’t have a vibration, they didn’t know I was there.

  Breathing hard, I slowed to a stop. I wanted a moment to catch my breath before meeting them.

  The sound of a woman’s voice carried to me. “We can tell them after the reporting ceremony,” she said.

  “The reporting ceremony is a formal dinner,” a man replied, “and this isn’t the sort of thing to discuss over a dinner. I think it would be better to wait.”

  I’d recovered enough to talk and was going to make myself known, but I froze when I heard a third voice say, Hide and listen.

  I recognized that voice immediately. My mother was speaking to me from…wherever dead dewing went. With my heart in my throat, I backed up and hid in the shadows.

  “I’m not suggesting we ask them to make a decision,” the woman insisted, “but we could at least introduce the idea.”

  “The other chiefs would think we’re crazy,” the man responded. “We don’t have any proof.”

  “Speaking of that,” she grumbled, “when are we going to get the proof we were promised?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” he replied, “but sometime before the naming ceremony.”

  “We can tell everyone then,” she said, sounding happy again.

  The man wasn’t finished raining on her parade. “The naming ceremony is a celebration,” he remarked. “Bringing it up then might very well make the chiefs even more resistant to the offer. The moral implications are enormous. Under the best circumstances, they’ll have a difficult time coming to grips with them. I know I did.”

  The way he said moral implications made my blood run cold. Whatever this offer was, I was sure I wasn’t going to like it.

  “But that’s the p
oint,” the woman replied, refusing to be discouraged. “You did come to grips with it. We both know this could be our salvation. The others will see that as well.”

  “Don’t expect too much too soon,” the man warned. “Anyway, there are the new girls to worry about, and I’ve got a feeling the Laurel will give us trouble.”

  The woman gave a short laugh. “How can she?” she asked. “She doesn’t know anything about being a clan chief. I’m sure she’ll go along with whatever the rest of us decide.”

  I felt myself frown. Her words stung, but only part of what she said was true. I didn’t plan to be a go-alonger.

  “When have the Laurel chiefs ever gone along with anything?” the man countered. “It’s in their nature to probe the details, challenge the evidence, and question the outcome. They come to their own conclusions. That’s the way it has always been.”

  “You’re giving her too much credit,” the woman insisted. “She’s still a child.”

  “I wouldn’t dismiss her so lightly, Helen,” he grumbled.

  Helen, I thought. The couple had to be the Vasitass clan chiefs, Helen and Valentine. They’d arrived earlier than expected.

  When Helen spoke next, I heard apprehension in her voice. “You had a vision, didn’t you?” she asked. “You saw something in the future.”

  Valentine hesitated and then admitted. “Yes. It was very brief and a bit hard to make out. I saw the chiefs at a roundtable meeting. The Laurel girl was standing in front of us. She was speaking to the Illuminant chiefs. I couldn’t make out her words, but by the expressions on their faces…and everyone else’s in the room…I’d say we were all terrified of her.”

  My heart pounded. They were coming around the rockfall. I pressed my back against the cool rocks, hoping the shadows were deep enough to hide me. I needn’t have worried because they never glanced my way.

  “You saw a small moment in time,” Helen said dismissively. “Perhaps she’ll surprise us or maybe shock us, but what could an eighteen-year-old girl say or do that would terrify the clan chiefs of Atlantis?”