Tides of Change (The Atlantis Chronicles Book 2)
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Reviews for Tides of Change
Tides of Change is more than the love story of all time; it’s a magnificent and thrilling adventure. For the followers of Atlantis and the Edgar Cayce Readings you will love the intrigue and possibilities this story brings to mind. Ms. MacIver is a master at creating the visions of Poseidon’s world under the sea with all of its splendid colors, sounds and imagery. You’ll find yourself staying up late reading this book, turning page after page until you’ve finished and then you’ll miss the characters that have become a part of your life, you’ll even worry about their safety. The book weaves the intimate stories of the residents of Atlantis with perfection. You’ll laugh out loud, you’ll cry and you’ll applaud the heroin and cheer her on. I would love to see this play out on the big screen. I can envision a fantastic movie along the lines of Avatar.
—Kay Schlichting, Horseshoe Bay, Texas
Perhaps the concept of a paradise is a philosophical construct, but in Tides of Change, it is brought to life in all its potential romantic glory. It is warm, wise, funny, exciting and thought provoking. Its characters live and feel with all of their senses and so, too, will the reader.
—Cynthia Lidman, Chandler, Arizona
Susan MacIver’s Tides of Change is extremely well done. The minute I started reading it, it was if I were in Atlantis myself. Her natural and easy writing abilities come through with her great level of detail and colorful descriptions of the people, places and things she presents. The storyline is new and fresh and I am looking forward to what is coming next! I was hooked from the moment I started reading!!
—Mark Platt, Santa Fe, New Mexico
Alien surroundings with believable people and just enough explanation to not get in the reader’s way. Women who are both strong and have a bit of the romantic-plot frailty… You have written an excellent book…I enjoyed this hugely…Good job! I would recommend this book to all my friends.
—Idony Lisle, Style Editor
Tides of Change is a mystical, captivating story with romance, suspense and hope for an uncertain future. Once I started reading I found it difficult to walk away from and look forward to the stories continuation.
—Nancy Peebles, Avid Fiction Reader, Bothell, WA
In “Tides of Change,” the first of three books in the Atlantis Chronicles, Susan MacIver takes you on a whimsical and fantastic journey to the bottom of the ocean and to matters of the heart. If you like fantasy, romance, intrigue and just a good story this is a book for you! Ms MacIver keeps us wanting more as she paints a wonderful picture with creative and descriptive wordsmithing. You are immersed in intrigue and relationships from the moment you are drawn into Atlantis and back topside. If you want a good read that you can’t put down and leaves you wanting more “Tides of Change” is the book for you!
—Jim Pflueger, Avid Fiction Reader, San Tan Valley, AZ
Wonderful story, beautifully written. And the cliffhanger ending – I sure hope she’s already working on a sequel (or series)!
—Rosina Wilson, Line Editor
Copyright © 2017 by Susan MacIver
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by Monica Haynes; thethatchery.com
Interior Graphic Design by Colleen Sheehan; wdrbookdesign.com
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Susan MacIver
Visit my website at www.susanmaciver.com
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: 2003
Published by Sojourn Publishing, LLC
ISBN: 978-1-62747-408-5
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-62747-556-3
Library of Congress Control Number: 2003111535
To
My Beautiful Duke,
the husband of my heart and the love of my life.
No one ever writes a book entirely by themselves. Anyone who has ever touched our lives comes into play in some way, no matter how small the influence. However, there are always and forever the people in our lives that we love the most. These loved ones bring to bear the largest influence that not only shape who we become, they in essence, help create the writing.
My son, Eric MacIver, whose touching poem, Clarity of a Moment, flowed so eloquently from Ni-Cio’s thoughts has enriched my world beyond measure. What a joy you are! I am so proud of the man you have become. Wise beyond your years, your humor and your love have kept me going through times that seemed impossible. You are “the child of my heart,” and there will never be enough words to describe how much I love you.
My version of Atlantis came into being when, sharing wine one night with my sister, Cynthia Lidman, she looked up and said, “The story should be about Atlantis!” Cindy, you are and always have been, my earth angel.
Tom Bird, you have disproved that old adage, “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.” With a depth of kindness that seems boundless, you continue to help so many of us unleash the Divine Author Within. Thank you. And my heartfelt gratitude to your incomparable team; Sabrina Fritts, Executive Director; Mary Stevenson, Executive Assistant, and John Hodgkinson, Project Coordinator.
And once again, I circle back to my incredible husband, Duke…thank you for giving me such a safe and loving place to fall. Without you, there is no me.
With all my heart,
Susan
10/24/16
Aris – AIR/iss
Cleito – klee/ATE/o
Daria Caiden – DAR/ee/uh KY/den
Ennael – uh/NEEL
Eumelus – Yoo/mue/les
Kai-Dan – KY/dan
Kalli-Kan – KAL/ee/dan
Kyla – Ky/la
Marik – MAIR/ik
Na-Kai eva Evenor – na/KY ee/va ev/uh/nor
Ni-Cio evaw Azaes – NEE/shee/o ee/va UH/zays
Oia – EE/ya
Oomi – OO/me
Peltor – PEL/tor
Poseidon – PO/sy/den
Rogert – RO/jer
Travlor – TRAV/lor
Ylno – IL/no
I
As children of Poseidon you are granted the paradise that is Atlantis
In the purity of your actions will it remain thus
II
The healing power descends through my lineage
Live that you flourish
Attend not and you will surely weaken
III
No matter the form
All life is held sacred
IV
Whether in the heavens or the earth
We are bound by the same essence that creates life
Hurt another and you ultimately hurt yourself
V
Behold the miracle that is You
Cherish this offering
VI
The sacrament of love is inviolate
Written in the heavens before your time
Heart, mind and soul will bring you into awareness of your life mate
Act not until they speak as one
VII
Love is manifested within the smallest detail
Living thus will your life be enriched
VIII
Let your essence be filled with the joy of life
And spread that joy to those you touch
Far from earth’s mad whirling,
deep beneath tranquil sapphire blue.
I descend, lured on by the whale’s
siren song
Drifting over dark, silent chasms
of uncharted depths
Visiting chamberless cathedrals
of sun-banded coral,
and touching heavenless stars,
I feel a part of an awesome promise—
Life never-ending,
And something like coming home.
Cynthia Lidman
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Na-Kai eva Evenor entered her darkened chambers. Bent beneath the weight of her despair, she moistened her lips and tried to swallow, but her throat constricted so that she could hardly breathe. She lifted her arm seeking support and felt the cold of time-smoothed granite. Sagging against the wall, she tried to summon the voice command that would regulate the lighting, but her voice caught and nothing came.
A moment passed, she issued a telepathic thought-form and her quarters appeared bathed in subdued colors of gold and green. The lights continued to brighten until she could see her silhouette carved against the granite walls.
Beneath the soft fall of her warming robes, her body felt old. The abject horror of a truth she had never thought to face assaulted her once again. “If a new Healer is not found to take my place, my people will begin the inexorable slide toward extinction.”
Her head pounded. She lifted her hands to massage her temples and noticed that the normal pearlescent glow of her skin had faded to resemble dry parchment. She was alone in this. There was nowhere left to turn, and no one else with whom to share this terrible knowledge. Her arms fell to her sides and she bowed her head. “There is no one else. Not one of them exhibits the least sign of the healing power. Within me was our continuance; without me is our end. Our underwater sanctuary has become our tomb.”
Her hands shook. Her strength was gone. She gathered her robes and stumbled to the couch. She grasped the armrest, but her knees gave way and she slumped to the cushions. The plush seating adjusted, enfolding her form, but she found no comfort. Her thoughts spun. There had to be some way out of the morass, but all that she could envision was the hungry maw of a black void as it opened wide to devour her people.
She had no idea how to save them. Tears trickled over her cheeks and sobs crested in waves. She pulled her robes tighter, seeking warmth, and she sank further into the cushions.
How much time had passed before her shudders finally calmed, she didn’t know. All was quiet. The only sound she heard was the ceaseless beat of her own heart. That steady rhythm brought her focus inward, and in the infinitesimal pause between each release, an idea glimmered on the periphery of her consciousness. Na-Kai examined that thought with horrified desperation. She tried to close her mind to such an act. To do this thing would be to go against everything she believed and had known to be true. However, the harder she argued against the idea, the more it dominated her. She lifted her gaze, swiped at her tears and pushed herself up.
She shivered with fear. Glancing at the door, she half expected someone to barge in to put a stop to her madness. She shook her head. Suddenly, flooded with energy, she began to pace. Her thoughts gathered speed, still she tried to banish the idea. Anything, any other idea than this would be acceptable. But the thought burrowed deeper and would not be denied.
Long ago, Poseidon had forbidden Healers to use their thought-forms for anything other than healing. Delving frantically through her memories, she tried to find a time when anyone had breached this command and it was as she suspected. The law had never been broken. She didn’t even know the consequences of transgression. Now, however, she was out of time and she was out of options. There was no other choice. She stopped and released her robes. Her spine stiffened like iron. Standing in open defiance of that ancient law, Na-Kai eva Evenor, Most Sovereign Healer of Atlantis, lifted her face toward the shrouded heavens. She raised her arms as though to challenge Poseidon himself. “I will not suffer this. It cannot be borne! I will do what I must. Whether you condone or condemn my actions, I do not care. I will enact the last and only rite that might somehow save your children! I will seek a Healer outside of the confines of our home!”
Na-Kai closed her eyes and forced her concentration inward. With the speed of thought, every atom within her consciousness coalesced, creating a powerful telekinetic form of incredible energy. Screaming with the effort, Na-Kai released it outward.
At a terrifying speed, the web of energy rocketed up and out of Atlantis. Through the very layers of rock and water that had become her home, it found its place in space and time and shimmered to a stop on the Greek island of Santorini. She knew that eons or minutes were as one, but for her people, time was of the essence. “We shall see what I have wrought.”
Feeling as though her soul had been wrenched apart, she was unable to summon the strength to lift her robes. She reeled toward the couch. Dimly aware of the cushions that softened her fall, she plummeted toward oblivion.
“The woman’s only been gone for one day.” Slumped in his seat, elbows planted on the edge of his vast desk and both fists held against closed eyes, Evan Gaddes knew it was a bad sign to start mumbling out loud. So, rather than wait for a reply, he leaned back in his chair and ran his hands briskly, back and forth, through his sandy blonde hair.
The stiff tickle that brushed against his palms ignited his need for movement, and in a single motion he slammed his hands on the desk and rose to his full six-foot-three inches. His chair sailed backwards in a violent spin, and the noise of its four wheels rat-a-tat-tatting across the rug guard quieted when the chair clamored to an ungainly stop atop the thick pile carpeting.
Evan sideswiped a corner of his desk and paced. He felt the stretch in the backs of his legs and let his frustration carry him the lengthy span of the room. At the other end of his office, he paused long enough to run his gaze over the stunning Boston vista that opened below his top floor aerie. He turned around and thrust his suit jacket backwards. He shoved both hands into the pockets of his pants, hunched his shoulders, lowered his head and trekked back.
He passed the only painting he had purchased specifically for the space and halted. Evan glared at the Van Gogh in a silent demand for inspiration, but the artwork offered nothing, so he dismissed it from his attention.
His pace increased along with his anxiety, and the sumptuous trappings of hi
s office faded from sight. He replayed their last night together.
Daria Caiden had pleaded with him to let the newness of their relationship settle, but he had refused to listen. He didn’t think he was in love with her, but she had brought such color into his black-and-white, ordered existence that he had been captivated from their first meeting. He felt that if he could get her to forget reason, forget caution and forget that they had only known each other for three months and just, by God, marry him, he could at least keep her safe. He was wary of the schemes that Travlor kept hatching. Why the man needed to be rid of Daria, Evan had no clue. Travlor had not seen fit to fill him in as to the why of it.
What Evan had failed to realize was that Daria had fended for herself for thirty-two years, and she had developed a self-reliance that bordered on stubbornness. When she had informed him that she was “going away for a while to think,” he thought that his adamant resistance to her departure would make her change her mind, so he had never even bothered to ask where she was going. But now, plagued with worry, he had only himself to blame, because he had absolutely no idea where she had gone. “How is it that everything I’ve achieved, and the plans I’ve laid, pale in comparison to you?”
Disgusted, he shook his head to clear the memories and stopped at his desk. He grabbed his cell phone from an inside jacket pocket and depressed the unlock button. The crystal display lit up, and once again, he felt his blood pressure start to redline.
He thrust the cell back into his pocket, loosened his tie, flailed open the top button of his shirt and yanked one end of the tie from beneath his collar. He heaved it across the desk and watched the beautiful slice of cloth glide gracefully through the air and fall to the floor in an expensive, colorful heap.
He leaned over the desk and punched the button on his speakerphone. He tried to sound composed, but the military bark that wound itself around his words assaulted his secretary’s ears just as it did his own. “Has she called yet?”
He anticipated the impatient hesitation before he caught the hurried intake of breath and the sigh that preceded the answer to his question. It wasn’t hard to envision the involuntary shake of his secretary’s gray head as she struggled to temper her reply. “No, Dr. Gaddes, she still hasn’t called. The moment she does, I promise to put her through. I’m sure everything is fine.”