by Eric Asher
Pace cast a glance over his shoulder. “Then tell me, Queen, why are you here?” He enunciated each syllable, betraying the fact that his patience was wearing to some degree. Nixie wasn’t sure how far she could push him, so she needed to figure out where the Eye of Atlantis was before things went bad.
A small stone basket caught Nixie’s eye. It was broken, cracked into three pieces, and much of the detail had been worn away from the stone. But that wear hadn’t come from the fall. This was a place of offering, one of the many places visitors and residents of Atlantis would leave ten portions of an offering.
“Well?” Pace asked.
“I’m not here for the deserters,” Nixie said. “I am glad to hear of their survival, but I just need the Eye of Atlantis. It may be the only way to spare us all in this war.”
“The Eye?” Pace said. “That is not what I expected you to be here for. I suppose it makes some sense now, how you were asking about the Temple of Poseidon.” He nodded.
“Can you take me there?”
“Of course,” Pace said. “But the Eye of Atlantis is not mine to give.”
Nixie studied the blue man for a moment, waiting for him to explain. But as the silence grew longer, she realized he wasn’t going to without prompting. She watched the tunnel behind her, and saw no sign of ambush, so decided to play his game.
“Then whose place is it?” Nixie asked. “If not the queen of the water witches, the ruler over those who first placed the Eye in this great city, then who?”
Pace narrowed his eyes and stared at Nixie. “And what would you do if we acquiesced? Millennia of rage and hatred are condensed into that artifact. It fuels the undines here, grants them the ability to survive in the shadows.”
“Inspires them, perhaps,” Nixie said. “Gives them hope you might say? But it does not grant them their ability to survive here. I once believed it was only possible to rule with an iron fist. With a sharp sword held to your enemy’s throat. But what I didn’t understand was that those we saw as enemies were not always against us.”
“A foolish thought,” Pace said. “Trust and loyalty will earn you a knife in the back. Blind trust will earn you many more.”
Nixie slowly shook her head and let her hand fall away from the hilt at her waist. “You misunderstand. And I say again, the world above has changed. The Fae war among themselves.”
“Bah!” Pace snapped. “That is no change at all.”
Nixie offered him a patient smile. “What I’ve told you has already come to pass. I’ve taken the crown of the undines. And my mate is a necromancer, a mortal.”
“I have no love lost for the water witches,” Pace said. “But to think you would sully your own courts, your own throne, with a mortal mate. It is disgusting.” He turned away again. “Regardless, I think it’s time you met the deserters.”
Nixie didn’t rise to his bait. Instead, she returned her attention to the ruins around them.
The city of Atlantis had been miles across. How much of it had survived the fall was a mystery to Nixie. She thought only the fragments of the temple she’d seen in the past were all that remained of the great Temple of Poseidon. Pace had indicated otherwise. But how deep was it buried? How many more tunnels would they have to travel through? Nixie knew each tunnel they passed through lessened her chance of escape and gave the advantage to those who knew this place.
Before she finished the thought, they exited the other side of the old canal. What had been brass on the walls shifted to tin. It should have been a greater distance from the outer ring. Clearly, when the city had fallen and fractured, the layout had become something unrecognizable. If not for the silvery metal covering the walls, Nixie wouldn’t have been able to identify the center regions of Atlantis.
“The place has changed quite a bit,” Pace said.
Nixie paused before a collapsed pile of what had once been the sections of an ionic column. She’d seen its like many times before, but most of the temples to Hephaestus lay in a similar state of ruin. No gleaming metal adorned these columns. Because, to the water witches, Hephaestus had been a demon. An enemy like no other, but the demon those legends had been based on was now someone Nixie called a friend. And it was an odd thing, how time could change some things.
More lights came on around them, and Nixie could see that the chamber they were in now was far larger than the first. This was a cavern of monumental proportions.
“So many of the buildings survived,” Nixie said. “I’m surprised to see it.” Even as she said this, she studied the surviving temples, the schools, and even some of the old bath houses still standing, and what had once been the central ring of the city.
Atlantis had always had more of the ionic architecture than any other style. But in the bath houses she could make out the intricate tops of Corinthian pillars, and beyond those a few Doric columns remained, crowned with sweeping scroll-like carvings.
“Not all of it had survived as well as you see today,” Pace said. “My people rebuilt some of it, and deserters helped rebuild a great deal of the rest. Regardless, it was surprising how much of the old city remained intact. I can’t say if someone had been here before us, but if they had been, they didn’t stay.”
Nixie nodded. She had been there herself, though she’d never dreamed so much of the ruin could have been restored. She’d pulled statues from the fallen city, victims of the battle at the end of Atlantis. Friends, and even some she thought of as family. So many didn’t survive.
When she remembered those days, the fires that tore through the city, the magic that poisoned them all, she could understand Lewena a little bit better. No matter how much time had passed, memories of the fall of Atlantis left a bitter taste in her mouth and a darkness in her heart.
Another series of lights joined them in the darkness and Pace started toward them. These were not the floating white orbs of an incantation, but the golden light of one of the fixed lanterns. Only there were dozens leading up a step-like structure, and a moment later Nixie realized she was looking at a section of the old stadium.
It was a strange sight, seeing it broken off as it was, half of it embedded in the wall, and the rest lost. But it created something like an auditorium, and in the stands waited a few dozen water witches.
“Those are the deserters,” Pace said, apparently bent on stating the obvious, perhaps in a failed effort to hide his anger. “Let them decide your fate. I have no interest in the Eye.”
Nixie glanced at him. Shouts rose as they reached the platform before the stands. And she had little doubt this wasn’t going to go well.
CHAPTER SIX
“Your attention, please,” Pace said, raising a hand.
But the undines didn’t respond to the blue man. They grew louder, several floating above the stands and screaming down at Nixie. More than one blade flashed in the light, and even the whispers reached her ears.
Murderer.
Usurper.
False queen.
Nixie brought her hands in front of her chest and formed a small circle. Inside of it the water swirled, creating a wave not unlike an amplifier the commoners would use. She raised it, and spoke one word, “Silence!”
Her voice thundered through the watery cavern, bouncing off walls only to return as a lower but no less savage sound. The raucous crowd quieted. Many of the undines who had been floating above the seats and casting aspersions at Nixie settled back down, instead moving closer to those around them.
Nixie had one chance to get this right, and she knew it. She’d seen leaders speak, she’d seen them lose the faith of an entire people in one wretched moment. The weight of that fact felt like a physical thing pushing down on her shoulders more than the titanic pressure of an entire ocean.
“Many of you are followers of the old traditions. Our last queen was a follower of those traditions. But I think it’s important to understand that Lewena is no longer your queen. I harbor no ill will toward any of you who followed her. It shows that you were loyal
to the throne, even though the undine who sat upon it was not perfect.”
A few murmurs sounded in the stands. A few hooded faces stayed in shadow, revealing nothing about the witches within.
“I only ask you to extend that same opportunity to me. Lewena has fallen, and the world above is changing. I do not know how long you have been here, but if what Pace has told me is true, I know some of you have only recently arrived. And you likely brought news of my ascension to the throne.”
“You’ve come to kill us!” an undine shouted from the back. She stood and pointed toward Nixie, running a hand through her gray-streaked hair. “You murdered our sisters and left them at the bottom of the river. I’ve seen it. I saw the wreckage you left behind!”
“As is tradition!” Nixie said, biting off each syllable. “You would follow Lewena into oblivion, and yet you deny me my right to defend my allies? My friends?”
“If you’re not here to kill us, why are you here? I ask you as Deirdre of the water witches. Faithful to the throne, and the legacy that is rightfully ours.”
That was a name Nixie knew. But one she had not heard spoken aloud since the times of Atlantis. She fought off a frown, unwilling to show her surprise in front of the gathered crowd. Deirdre had served the throne long before the fall. She’d been a warrior, an elite guard to the queens, and Nixie was surprised to see her cowering in the ruins of the old city.
“Your reputation is a legend among many of the undines. Why do you hide here?”
“Why do you evade my question?” Deirdre snapped. “I’ll grant you the favor of answering yours. I do not hide here, I am here to protect those who have returned. Those who wish to rebuild Atlantis, where it is now, well away from the commoners and the machinations of less savory Fae.”
Less savory Fae. Nixie wondered if she meant Nudd, or if perhaps Deirdre was instead referring to her and the other water witches.
Nixie didn’t break eye contact with Deirdre, who’d clearly installed herself as the leader of the deserters. “I’ve come for the Eye of Atlantis.”
Deirdre narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “So the blue men did not lie. They’ve been listening to your conversation with Pace. What ego must you have to return here and simply request one of the most powerful artifacts under undine control.”
“It is not ego,” Nixie said. “It is necessity, and by right of the crown on my brow.”
“What do you need it for?” another undine asked.
“Be silent,” Deirdre snapped.
Nixie eyed the two witches for a moment. So they hadn’t fully established the leadership among the deserters. That was good. That she could use. She focused on the second witch, a younger witch Nixie doubted was more than half a millennium in age, who squeezed the shoulder of a hooded form beside her.
“I mean to free two of my friends who will die without it. A vampire and a powerful ally—the child who was destined to be the Destroyer, freed from her destiny by the mortal prince of the undines.”
A few whispers sounded almost like awe, but Deidre’s face twisted in disgust.
“A necromancer has no place in the courts of Faerie, much less among the undines.”
“You are wrong,” Nixie said. “Perhaps more than any other, the necromancers understand us. Who else has walked so deeply among the dead? Who else has spoken to the fallen?”
“He stands against the king,” Deidre said.
“He stands against the Mad King,” Nixie snapped. “Gwynn Ap Nudd seeks to enslave the commoners and bring Faerie to once more rule over their plane.”
“Let him do it. What have those fools done for us? Poisoned our waters? Slaughtered the animals who give them sustenance and torn asunder the very flora that gives them breath? They are fools. Let them die.”
Nixie offered a small smile. “And how are we so different, sister?”
Deidre flinched as if she’d been slapped, glancing down at the robed witch beside her, face in shadow. “It’s not the same.”
Nixie frowned. She focused on the hooded forms in the stands. Each silent, each watching, each not wearing traditional dress for the water witches. Or it least it hadn’t been since …
“Show me your face,” Nixie said, the words not unkind but commanding.
A thick hand reached up to pull their hood back. Deidre grabbed their wrist, stopping the motion. The hooded form shook its head and pushed her away gently. The hood came down, and Nixie gasped.
Beneath waited the sallow cheekbones and long thin beard of a male undine.
“Who … how?” Nixie asked.
The old undine smiled and it lifted the edges of his beard. “My Queen.” He inclined his head. “A few of us survived the end of this city. We hid south of here for a time, in ruins far older than Atlantis itself. We only returned five hundred years past.”
More hoods fell, revealing at least twelve male undines among the ranks of females.
“You could have been kings,” Nixie said, and she didn’t hide the confusion in her voice.
“Better to be free than be enslaved to the throne. My name is Shamus.”
“You reveal yourself to her?” Deirdre snapped. “She has dishonored that throne. The water witches would surely bow down before a new king before they would ever recognize a betrayer to the throne.”
Shamus shook his head slowly. “Deirdre, you are wrong. The queen has ascended to the throne, and she has not broken any laws of our people.”
“She is bonded to a mortal. She has made a mortal, a necromancer, a member of the court.”
“Only in name,” Nixie said. “Damian has no power over our nation. You’re well aware of that.”
“I am aware of nothing when it comes to you. Other than the fact you betrayed Lewena to her death.”
“In that you are wrong. I gifted our allies the fragments of the stone dagger. They had the weapons to strike Lewena down, forged by a fire demon. They saved my life, and that of your mortal prince.” She worried she was pushing it too far. But now that she knew they had males among them, who were apparently far slower to rush into a fight, Nixie felt she had more leeway. She hoped she wasn’t wrong.
Deirdre didn’t respond. She glared at Nixie, even as Shamus reached out and squeezed Deirdre’s shoulder.
“Despite the legends around it,” Shamus started, “we have no need of the Eye here.”
“You’re wrong,” Deidre said. “The Eye of Atlantis is a symbol of our power. Our legacy. You can’t let a traitor to the throne just take it.”
“She is no traitor to the throne, Deidre,” his voice rising. “She is our queen.”
Nixie was surprised when some of the other faces in the audience started nodding along with Shamus. The pieces of what had likely happened here started coming together in Nixie’s mind. Shamus was part of the old guard, guardians of kings and queens before the fall. Respected by many, feared by all. But what had softened him over the millennia? For if Nixie hadn’t met Damian, or Haka, she might still take nothing but joy in the drowning of the commoners.
“Then you will honor the old ways.” Deidre gave one sharp nod as she turned to the other undines in the audience. “Not all here accept her claim. If this so-called queen demands the Eye of Atlantis, she will face me in a battle to the death. The old ceremonies will be observed, and should she be victorious we will acknowledge her as our queen. And should she fail, she will be placed outside the gates to the city as a warning to all.”
Nixie grimaced. Shit.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Shamus led Nixie out of the remains of the stadium. Pace followed close behind. They left Deidre in the Coliseum. But it gave Nixie some small hope when she saw some of the water witches left with the blue men, while only a handful stayed with Deidre. But there was no way of knowing how much control Deidre had over them. No way of knowing if they would try to kill her at Deidre’s word, or interfere in the coming combat. Nixie remembered coups that struck out at Lewena over the years, and even before that at the king
s and queens of old.
“They are young, my Queen. You must forgive them their transgressions.”
Nixie assumed Shamus was referring to the handful of youth in the audience. She wondered if he thought Nixie intended to slay them all. As though she were as ruthless as Lewena when she first took the throne, using the deaths of dozens to solidify her rule.
“Deidre doesn’t seem very young,” Nixie said.
“Yes, yes,” Shamus said. “But I think you know it was not Deidre I was referring to. There are water witches here who are not much older than children, by our lifespans.”
“I know a wolf who may be even older than you,” Nixie said. “A man of peace, an ally whom I would never have believed would one day be an ally.”
Shamus looked over at Pace. “I can understand that sentiment.”
“Aye,” Pace said. “If you’d told me I’d be guarding undines one day, I would’ve laughed and laughed until I joined my ancestors in oblivion. But here we are. The blue men of the Minch and the undines of old, and we share a fair amount of peace between us.”
Shamus inclined his head, and guided them past one of the taller temples that was still intact. It was marble, with highlights of bronze shot through the stone. Nixie couldn’t tell who it was meant to worship, but it was an imposing form.
They neared one of the vast stone walls. A large outcropping came close to the edge of the temple they were circling. It wasn’t until they reached the wall that Nixie realized a crevasse cut through the stone. This wasn’t a neat tunnel like the other they’d walked through. It wasn’t like the inverted aqueduct. This was just a shadow in the darkness.
“It’s quite stable,” Pace said.
“That’s not what I was worried about,” Nixie said. “Even if these stones collapsed on us, I’d have enough time to escape. But if there were a sword hidden in the dark, I might not.”
“You’ll find no hidden blades here,” Shamus said. “Our confrontations are bald. The time for deception has long passed. I felt no need for it since the city fell, and I believe most of the undines feel the same.”
