Shellheart appeared relieved to finally voice his contempt for the truce, but Dean saw the soldiers behind him looked conflicted and confused. “I thought it was Captain Lyndra trying to steal the throne,” he heard one of them say. Sir Riptide, the scar-faced soldier who had nearly lost his eye to an Abyssian “savage,” told the men to keep their mouths shut and stay in formation. They did as they were told, but there was dissension in their ranks. Dean wasn’t the only one who saw it. Skinner banged the scepter in his hand against the back of the throne, grabbing everyone’s attention before more soldiers started thinking for themselves.
“Here’s the deal!” Skinner hollered. “Finneus! Shellheart! You let me and mine walk out of here with as much treasure as we can carry, and in return, I’ll take yer queen so far away that not even her ghost will ever find its way back ta haunt ya. You don’t have ta lift a finger. Just let us pass and we can all get what we want. It don’t matter ta me what goes on down here. My life’s up above the waves.”
“What about them?” Finneus asked, pointing to Dean, Waverly, and Verrick.
“Keep ’em. Kill ’em. What do I care?”
Finneus gave a shrug. “Works for me.”
“Not for me,” Gentleman Jim called out from across the room.
“Or me,” said Lyndra, standing beside him, backed by a regiment of Abyssian soldiers. “Neither thief nor traitor will walk out of this room. You’re all going to have to be carried out.”
“Who are they?” Skinner asked, pointing to Lyndra’s men in their black crustacean armor.
Shellheart smiled. “The soldiers I’ve spent my life waiting to fight.”
“You can’t!” said the queen. “The war’s been over for a hundred years! Are you mad?”
Shellheart shook his head. “Wars are never really over, Your Majesty. Hatred can endure for generations.” He turned to his men. “Sons of Neptune! Today, you honor your fathers and your fathers’ fathers . . . all those who fell in battle to Abyssal shall be avenged.”
“Stand down!” ordered the queen. “I beg you!”
Shellheart’s men seemed unsure who to obey, the duke or the queen. Dean seized the moment before it passed. “Wait!” he shouted, running to stand in between the two armies. “You don’t have to fight. Finneus, you told me if I gave you the blood, no one had to die.”
“That was before,” Finneus said. “You squandered that chance when you gave the blood to this scum.”
“Not all of it.” Dean held up a vial. It was still half full.
The throne room let out a collective gasp. Every merman and mermaid present stared at the blood with reverent eyes.
“Where did that come from?” Finneus asked.
“I searched you!” Shellheart said. “Where did you hide it?”
“I didn’t hide it. I didn’t even have it. Ronan brought it down in the second pod.”
“You said you used it all,” Finneus said.
“I lied,” Dean said. “I do that. How about you? You said you were worthy. Don’t you want to find out if it’s true?”
Chapter 33
Bad Blood
“Don’t!” Lyndra blurted. “You can’t let him have the blood. You don’t understand its power.”
“It’s all right,” Queen Avenel said, still at the mercy of Marlon Spyke’s knife. “Go ahead, young man,” she told Dean. “Give it to him. Let’s see what happens. Let everyone see.”
“Queen Avenel!” Lyndra exclaimed. “You can’t mean that. You can’t let him have the power of the—”
“Finneus will draw no power from the blood, Captain,” said the queen, cutting Lyndra off. “He has already proven himself to be unworthy.”
“Of course you would say that,” Finneus scowled. “You think so little of me. That’s why you only ever trusted me with trivialities.”
The queen scoffed. “I would have been right not to trust you. But the truth is, I made you minister of cultural exchange because I thought highly of you. Even a queen makes mistakes—but Lord Poseidon does not. I submit to the will of the sea god, as do we all. Let his judgment reveal the truth about you, dear nephew. Drink freely. We shall all bear witness. If Poseidon sees fit to give you command over all sea life, I will obey you as I would him.”
Finneus’s eyebrows went up. “Will you? I had no idea you would be so accommodating. We should have had this conversation long ago.” He joined Dean on the steps. “You all heard her. The queen freely offers me to drink the Blood of Poseidon.”
“I wouldn’t drink that, lad,” Skinner warned Finneus. “I wouldn’t drink anything one ’a’ my enemies offered me. Not a drop. Leave it alone. Ya can be king without it.”
“Not here, he can’t,” Dean said. “If he wants to be king of Atlantis, he needs the sea god’s blessing. He needs His power.”
“And I will have it,” Finneus said, taking the vial from Dean. “This is no crime. This is mine by right.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Dean said.
Finneus stared at the white liquid in the bottle as if hypnotized. “The Blood of Poseidon,” he said in awe. “Dominion over the waves—mine at last.” He raised the vial, toasting the future. “The new age of Atlantis begins now!”
Finneus downed the vial in one gulp. The throne room fell silent. The young lord closed his eyes and breathed easy, waiting for his transformation and the power that would come with it.
Nothing happened.
A few seconds passed as Finneus felt nervously at his arms and chest, still expecting to receive the sea god’s blessing. “I don’t understand.”
“Something’s wrong,” one of Shellheart’s soldiers said.
“Just as I suspected,” said the queen. “Unworthy.”
“I’m not unworthy!” Finneus growled. “Stop saying that!” He staggered a step, briefly losing his balance on the staircase. After he steadied himself, he put a hand to his head and looked around the throne room. There was fear in his eyes.
“You feel it?” Dean asked him. “Is the room spinning yet?”
In that moment, Finneus realized Dean had played him. “You did this. You tricked me!” He grabbed Dean and threw him down the stairs.
“He’s been poisoned,” Shellheart shouted as Dean rolled to a stop at his feet. “This is treachery—foul treachery!”
“Yes, Duke Shellheart,” the scar-faced Sir Riptide agreed.
“Kill the boy,” Shellheart said. “Let him be the first to die.”
Sir Riptide drew his sword. “No, Duke Shellheart.”
The Duke whirled on him. “What did you say?”
“The sea god has judged Lord Finneus . . . and you. I will not wage war on Abyssal unprovoked, nor take up arms against the rightful queen.”
“You dare defy me?” Shellheart said, drawing his own sword. “Your cowardice shames all of Neptune.”
“My only shame is that I waited this long to act. Forgive me, my queen. The duke’s treason ends here.”
Shellheart flew into a rage and swung his sword at Riptide. A mighty clang rang out as it connected with his golden shield. Halfway up the steps, Finneus stared in disbelief as, one by one, Shellheart’s soldiers turned on their duke—and him. As more of Shellheart’s men came forth to challenge him, Mookergwog took advantage of the confusion and threw his weight into Marlon Spyke, knocking the pirate off the royal dais.
“The queen is unguarded!” Lyndra shouted. “Defend her!”
“Save the queen!” Riptide told his men while trading blows with Shellheart.
The soldiers of Abyssal charged, and the battle began, but not the one Finneus and Shellheart had hoped for. A wave of black and gold armor came together to fight side by side against Skinner’s men.
“Bloody ’ell!” Skinner cursed. “Looks like we’ll have ta fight our way out of here after all. Have at ’em, lads! If ya want ta keep yer treasure, yer gonna have ta kill every one ’a’ these blasted fish-men!”
The pirate crew ran headlong into the fray. But
this time, they not only lacked the element of surprise, they were up against two armies instead of one. They had no hope of winning, and Skinner knew it. As Dean went back up the stairs to the royal dais, he passed Skinner and Long Tom Cannon, headed down.
“Grab Spyke and as much gold as you can carry,” Skinner ordered Long Tom. “We’re out of here. Now.”
Before Dean could tell Skinner he should have stuck to the plan, a fist collided with Dean’s face. He shook his head clear and saw Finneus, looking feverish and desperate.
“What did you give me?” he demanded, with sweat beading up on his brow. “What did I drink?”
Dean spat blood and smiled. “I’m not sure exactly. I can tell you this much, it wasn’t the Blood of Poseidon. Verrick held what was left of that, not Ronan.”
“Who?”
Dean nodded up to the dais. “See the old man whisking your aunt away to safety?” Finneus turned around in time to see Verrick escorting the queen out through a side entrance. When he turned back around, Dean head-butted him in the nose. Finneus cried out, and both of them fell.
“Don’t worry,” Dean said, crawling to his feet. “He gave the blood to Waverly to hold.”
“Over here,” Waverly said, crossing the steps to kick Finneus in the chest. “I have met some low-down liars in my day,” she told him, “but you top them all.”
“And here I thought I was going to be stuck with that title,” Dean joked.
Finneus rolled over in pain. He looked weak and washed-out. “What was it? Poison? Am I going to die?”
“Die?” Mookergwog repeated. “No, that was just a little potion I use to help me go to sleep. Not to worry, I’ve used it myself many times with no side effects. Though it does a smoother job if you don’t fight it.”
“Hear that?” Dean asked. “You’re going to go to bed soon, and when you wake up, you’ll be in prison.”
“Liar,” Finneus spat. “Cheat!”
“I told you I was a liar,” Dean said. “Weren’t you paying attention?”
At the base of the steps, Shellheart was matching swords with Lyndra and Gentleman Jim, and he was losing. On the floor of the throne room, the combined forces of Neptune and Abyssal had overwhelmed the pirates—with the notable exception of their captain, Long Tom, and Spyke. The trio was about to make its escape when a giant sponge monster blocked the men’s path.
“Skinner!” Ronan said, appearing next to the sponge creature. “Good to see you. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.”
The sponge monster roared and swiped at Skinner, Marlon Spyke, and Long Tom Cannon. The three of them flew into the throne room wall hard enough to crack the stone facade. The impact scattered the treasure they’d stolen, and Ronan put a hand up to shield himself as he was pelted with gold coins. “Ah! Were those pirates or piñatas?” The sponge monster groaned out an unintelligible reply.
“Blow me down,” Dean marveled. “He really did come to an understanding with that thing.”
Ronan threw Dean and Waverly a salute as he and the sponge monster joined the battle. It would all be over soon.
“It can’t end this way,” Finneus muttered, fighting the urge to sleep. “I won’t allow it!” He forced himself onto his feet and charged up the steps.
“Where does he think he’s going?” Dean asked.
“After the queen?” Mookergwog guessed.
“Look,” Waverly said, pointing. Finneus picked up a sword and darted through the secret door behind the throne.
“He’s headed for Poseidon’s Chamber,” Dean said.
“After him!” Mookergwog shouted.
Dean, Mookergwog, and Waverly ran after Finneus. The waterfall on the back wall of the throne room drenched them as they ran under it, chasing Finneus into the treasure vault. He didn’t get far. They found him a short ways down the winding staircase below the vault. He was sitting with his back against the massive tank of pressurized Heavy Water. When Finneus saw that Dean and the others had caught up to him, he lifted his sword in their direction.
“Seaborne,” he said, wheezing. “You robbed me of my destiny . . . my future. Now, it’s my turn . . . to do the same.”
Finneus swung his sword, but not at Dean. His target was a block of machinery and wires that had been bolted to the side of the water tank.
“No!” Mookergwog screamed, but it was too late. Sparks erupted from the severed cables and steam poured out from the seams of the tank as the needle on a large pressure gauge began to drop.
“What just happened?” Waverly asked. “What did he do?”
“I’m not going to rot in some prison,” Finneus said. “I’ll take this city down with me first.”
Chapter 34
Downfall
“He killed the power,” Mookergwog said, horrified. “He killed the power to the tank!”
“What does that mean?” Waverly asked.
Mookergwog leaned away as blue flames flared up around Finneus’s sword, now wedged in the block of damaged machinery. “It means he’s killed us!”
“No!” Dean reached into the flames and pulled the sword out. He tossed it aside, shaking his hands from the heat. “Don’t say that. What do we do?”
Mookergwog ripped off his shirt and used it to beat out the flames. The wires and melted rubber were a charred mess. “Nothing we can do. He cut the lines. The tower won’t run without power.”
“What power?” Waverly asked.
Electric bolts crackled in the place where the flames had been.
“That!” Mookergwog said, pointing. “Electric power . . . There’s a hydroelectric generator below the tank.”
Dean squinted. “A hydro-what?” He’d been below the tank and he didn’t have the first clue what Mookergwog was talking about.
Mookergwog made circles with his hands. “Giant wheels!” he barked.
“Okay,” Dean nodded. That he understood.
“Falling water turns the wheels fast enough to build up energy. We need that power to pull oxygen from the water—we need it to keep the Heavy Water in this tank under pressure! Otherwise, it won’t be strong enough to cover the city.”
Waverly pointed up at the ceiling. “The Water Tower’s going to fall?”
“Once the water stops flowing, everything’s going to fall,” Mookergwog said. “The ocean’s going to crash down on us and wipe out all of Atlantis. We’re doomed.”
“Stop saying that!” Dean grabbed Mookergwog. “Blast it, Mookergwog, think! You know machines. You can fix this.”
Mookergwog shook his head, afraid. “I like to build things, but that’s not the same as—”
“Tell me you can fix this!”
“I don’t know! Maybe I could rewire it, but—”
“Good!” Dean’s face lit up. “Rewiring sounds good. Let’s do that!”
“But I lack the tools!” Mookergwog continued. “Without them, it’s impossible. First of all, I’d be electrocuted. Second, we don’t have enough time!”
“You have to try!” Waverly pleaded.
“Look at this.” Mookergwog pointed to a pressure gauge on the side of the tank. The needle on its face was moving quickly to the left. “Once that needle hits the red, it’s all over. I’d need minutes to reroute the power around these two main cables. But we have seconds to reestablish that connection—at best!”
“A connection between these two cables here?” Dean asked, making sure he was looking at the right ones.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Dean spit on his hands and rubbed them together. “I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”
“What do you mean, buy me—”
“Dean!” Waverly screamed as he reached out and grabbed the severed ends of each cable. It must have looked like suicide, but she didn’t know what the queen’s healers had told Dean: that mer-people were slightly more resistant to electric shocks. Slightly.
The voltage still hurt like the devil. Using his body as a conductor, Dean bridged the gap between the two severed
cables. He cried out in agony, but the pressure gauge climbed slowly up out of the danger zone. It was working! Unfortunately, Mookergwog wasn’t.
“What are you waiting for?” Dean shouted.
“Sorry! Right!” Mookergwog sprang into action as Dean kept a watery roof over the city’s head. Dean’s hands became iron claws—the pain was killing him, but he couldn’t let go, even if he wanted to. He could barely move.
Dean lost track of time as Mookergwog frantically worked to fix the Water Tower. The few minutes that passed felt like a lifetime.
“Are you done yet?” he heard Waverly ask Mookergwog.
“Not yet . . .”
“Go faster!”
“Distracting me doesn’t do him any good! If you want to make yourself useful, go get another merman to relieve him.”
“I’ll relieve him!”
“No,” Mookergwog cursed and pulled his hand back. A wire he’d been splicing together had given him a nasty shock. “You’re human. You’ll die if you touch that. It has to be a merman.”
Waverly took out what was left of the Blood of Poseidon. There were still a few drops at the bottom of the vial. “What about a mermaid?”
Dean looked over his shoulder at Waverly, wondering if she was the last thing he’d ever see. Mookergwog jumped back again as sparks shot out of the contraption he’d been working on.
“Power surge! Not now!” the green man shouted.
Dean screamed as the pain became unbearable, and then everything went white.
Chapter 35
Not Dead Yet
Dean opened his eyes and saw nothing. Wherever he was, it was pitch-black.
“Am I dead?” he asked. His head was pounding. His body ached. He wasn’t sure if he had spoken the words aloud or only thought them.
“No,” a woman’s voice replied.
“Not for lack of trying,” said a second.
“This is getting to be a habit with you, Dean Seaborne.”
“A bad habit.”
Dean recognized the voices. The healers. He was back on their table. Alive.
Strangers in Atlantis (Seaborne) Page 17
