by Jade Kerrion
“And you’re saying they’re different.”
The citizens of Atlantis weren’t even entirely human before the explosion. Now, isolated for thousands of years, and exposed to aether, they’re nowhere close to human.
“Then what are they?”
Different.
“As different as the Beltiamatu? Or as different as you?” He glanced around the forest. “I haven’t seen any villages.”
Look up.
Varun raised his head, squinted, and then frowned at the structures draped across the massive tree trunks. “Are those bridges?”
Aerial walkways. Their homes are in the trees.
“In the…” Varun pressed his hand against one of the massive tree trunks, then tapped on it. “Doesn’t sound hollow.”
The base isn’t. The top is, though. It’s a fine line to walk—carving out the inside of a tree for living space without killing it entirely.
“But why live in the tree?”
Would you rather live outside, where the spiders are?
“This is amazing, Ashe. Do you have any idea how amazing a discovery this is?”
Not really. You humans have historically not managed “different” very well. Over three hundred years, I’ve witnessed far too many racial genocides and species extinctions—
Varun winced. “What did you do to the Atlantean warriors? I don’t hear them.”
They’re trying to clear out a spider nest I roused from underground.
His jaw dropped. “A spider…nest…?”
Spiders have lots of babies. The smallest I saw was palm sized. The Atlanteans will be busy for a while. We should get moving though. I think it’s this way.
“How can you tell?”
The air is different.
He stiffened as she brushed past him. “Good different or bad different?”
But she did not answer.
Chapter 14
Varun gritted his teeth at Ashe’s nonresponse. She made it a point not to lie—which made sense. Her world was so fantastical she would never be able to keep her lies straight.
Evasion was much more her style.
Not responding at all was bad—
Bad different.
He sniffed the air. His gaze flicked rapidly, searching the forest. He wiped his damp hands on his pants. At least nerves kept him from dwelling upon the dull, throbbing pain in his right leg. Jinn’s claws dug into his shoulders, and he glanced up at the parrot. “You okay there?”
“Move along, dumbass.”
Varun caught up with Ashe, who had stopped at a spot that looked no different from any other spot in the forest. The dense undergrowth was at least chest-high, the spore-spotted fern leaves as large as a man’s body.
Ashe knelt easily despite the apparent weight of her backpack. Here. She pushed aside the huge leaves to reveal a hole in the ground.
In contrast to how oversized everything else was, the hole was only about four feet across, and irregularly shaped. Varun frowned. “Are you sure that’s not a spider hole?”
The spider holes are bigger. Ashe held her hand over the opening in the ground.
Varun squinted at the thin wisps of gray smoke wafting up from the hole and around her hand. “Is that what we saw from up there?”
She nodded.
He braced himself then leaned over to peer into it. The glow of his flashlight petered out to nothing in that endless darkness. “Does aether have a smell?”
I don’t think so. Do you smell anything?
“Not yet, but then again, it’s a long way down.”
She shrugged the backpack off her shoulders, then swung her feet over and let herself fall feetfirst into the well.
Varun lunged, but not quickly enough. He grabbed nothing but air. He stared after her as she vanished into darkness. “Damn it, Ashe. You can’t possibly expect me to follow you down there.”
Not afraid are you?
“Smart people look before they leap.”
You’ve already looked. Now leap.
“What’s down there?”
Don’t know. Still falling.
Varun cursed under his breath, then glanced up at the sound of wood snapping. Through the trees, he caught a glimpse of men and women weaving through the heavy brush. Something whizzed toward him. Instinct swung him to the side. A dart sank into the rough bark of the tree behind him.
One wing fluttering wildly, Jinn hopped from Varun’s shoulder into his arms.
Oddly, that made him feel braver. He wasn’t just responsible for his own life.
Out of options, Varun leaped feetfirst into the well. The mud-caked dirt wall of the hole whizzed into a blur. “Ashe!” he shouted.
She did not reply.
“Ashe! You okay?”
Still no answer. His heart stuttered even though his mind told him he was an idiot. In a pinch, Ashe could vanish into air. Nothing could hurt air.
He had to get a grip on his terror.
There was no reason to be afraid.
Except that he was falling.
He hated falling.
The roar of panic in his head made it impossible to think. His skittering heartbeat refused to steady as the dirt walls smoothed into cool gray metal. As he fell farther, the gray color deepened to black. Only then did he notice the smell. It was subtle, so subtle at first that he dismissed it as his imagination, but it gradually grew stronger until he could no longer ignore it.
Grass.
Endless fields of grass, spread out like a green summer cloak.
But that was crazy. He was far below sea level in some kind of metal tube. Why on Earth did he smell grass?
His descent slowed with gradual grace that could only have come from Ashe. As his feet touched a flat surface, he tried looking around the pitch darkness but could not see anything. “Ashe?”
Here.
His voice sounded wobbly, even to his own ears. His knees—even the uninjured one—trembled beneath him. “Why didn’t you reply earlier?”
Wanted to see if you’d panic.
“Yeah, well, lucky you.” Sometimes, Ashe could be a real bitch. Still scowling, he turned on his flashlight. Jinn hopped onto his shoulder as the beams of light swung around a vast chamber. Apparently, the tunnel had been expanding outward as he had been falling. “What are we looking for? What does Zamir want that’s in here?”
I don’t know. The Beltiamatu had lots of stories about the aether well. I don’t know what’s real and what’s just a story.
“Aether is energy, right? You said it powered the city, its technologies, and defenses. Do you smell grass?” He stared at the cool gray metal floor. “Where is it coming from?”
I don’t know—Ashe suddenly stiffened.
“What is it?”
It moved. The air.
Varun swung his flashlight around the cavernous space. Something shifted on the far edge of the shadows. Gears ground. Metal screeched. Varun swallowed hard as something at least three times his height stalked out of the darkness.
The automaton looked like an armored knight, except that its armor was as sleek as a formfitting spacesuit and it moved with the swift and smooth grace of a living being. It carried weapons that looked like swords, but blockier, in both hands.
Varun retreated a few steps. “How is it moving? Magic?”
Aether.
Right. That mysterious energy source from the stars. Damn it. He hated it when the scientific answer was basically the equivalent of magic. He ground his teeth. “How do we stop it?”
Hit it hard.
With what? He swung his flashlight around while keeping his distance from the golem. There was nothing in that cavernous space.
Or run. Ashe grabbed his hand. This way.
Sure, running sounded like a great idea.
Except that the rapid thunks of metal against metal confirmed that the golem was after them, and catching up rapidly.
Pain, mercifully numbed by adrenaline, was a dull throb. His mind churned
. If he could find a way to trip it up—Varun suddenly found his arms full of fluttering gray wings. The flashlight tumbled from his hand, its glow shining upon a human-sized opening in the wall.
Get down!
A strong blast of air tore Jinn out of his arms and pushed his head down as something heavy swung overhead. The blow would have otherwise cleaved his head off his neck. The wind yanked him off his feet and rolled him, literally, into the alcove.
Wings slapped irritably at his face.
Jinn was all right—
Varun twisted around. Outside the alcove, the golem loomed over Ashe who stood still, staring up at it, utterly unafraid. The golem swung its massive blades down, right through Ashe. “No!” Varun threw himself forward, but the wind screamed him back into the alcove.
Don’t be an idiot! Ashe’s voice snapped irritably in his head. If it thinks we’re dead, it’s less likely to break down the tower looking for us.
“Ashe?”
Will you keep your voice down?
Varun ground his teeth and tried to focus his thoughts instead. Ashe?
What? The air in front of him coalesced. Glittering lights appeared first, like stars scattered across the universe, whirling together into the formation of galaxies. Then her outline appeared—humanoid with female curves. Light twisted and spun, then brightened until it was blinding.
Varun shielded his eyes until the light passed.
When he looked up again, Ashe was standing before him.
Without clothes.
Right. Her clothes didn’t make the transition between forms. Only her pendant, fashioned from Zamir’s black scale, did.
He braved a peek out of the alcove. The golem had stiffened into immobility. Ashe’s clothes lay in a tangle on the floor.
He threw his thought at her. I could get it.
I wouldn’t chance it. The golem is programmed to stop all movement within the space it’s protecting.
You could have destroyed it. And you could have killed the rest of the Atlantean natives. Why didn’t you?
They’ll deter anyone trying to follow us.
Varun frowned. Who’s going to follow us? Zamir couldn’t come this way anyway.
I suspect there are many ways into the aether well, but why couldn’t they come the way we did? They have feet now, don’t they?
He stiffened. She was right. The Beltiamatu had changed the rules, and they were playing a new game. Worse, he did not know if he had the right pieces, let alone all the pieces, to win.
A little breeze ventured out of the hollow in the wall, swirling the dust particles on the rib-patterned metal floor. Ashe’s clothes moved, fractions of an inch at a time, the change scarcely noticeable from moment to moment. Within a few minutes though, her clothes were close enough to pull into the alcove. Varun turned his head away as she dressed. Ashe was much too casual about nudity, but then again, her body was a figment of his imagination, wasn’t it? So why did it bother him as much as it did?
Maybe if he stopped thinking about it—Varun drew a deep breath and stared into the darkness of the corridor ahead. “What else do you think we’ll find there?”
Answers.
He grimaced. “I hope they’re worth all the trouble we’ve gone through.”
Ashe said nothing. Her gaze traveled through the shadows. The wind tugged her hair away from her face. Turned in profile, she seemed remote, untouchable. Unfathomable.
But he knew her well enough to read her mood in the sudden stillness of the air. Whatever was waiting for them in there, Ashe clearly did not think she was going to like it…
And wasn’t entirely certain she could handle it.
Chapter 15
The corridor twisted deeper into the earth, narrowing until Ashe had to draw deep breaths to fight off the encroaching panic of claustrophobia. She had no doubt Zamir had found his way into the ruins of Atlantis. Even when she had been a mermaid, she had heard of Atlantis explorations, usually undertaken by young mermen possessed of more courage than sense. None had ever returned, but then again, none had Zamir’s wisdom and strength. Nor were they accompanied by a legion of Beltiamatu warriors, as Zamir had been.
If anyone could have made it to Atlantis, it would have been Zamir.
But what made his visit necessary? If he merely wanted to regroup his forces, there were safer places than the ruins of Atlantis.
As Ashe and Varun walked, the scent of earth grew stronger, evoking visions of endless fields of lavender and grass.
It was utterly incongruous with the cool, metal walls surrounding her.
“What is this?” Varun ran his hand against the wall. “I don’t recognize this metal.”
It’s an alloy of carbon and steel.
“Really? That’s amazing.”
Ashe rolled her eyes. Jinn, perched on her shoulder, mimicked her actions. You humans make it too.
“I didn’t know that. And do you always roll your eyes when you say, ‘you humans’?”
I don’t do that.
“Of course you do, Ashe. Why does it smell like this? It’s not what I would have expected.”
Me neither. The corridor came to an abrupt end. She peeked out of the tunnel into a chamber, not as vast as the one guarded by the golem, but far more beautiful. A pale orange glow emanated through the room. Trees—none of which she recognized—rose high, and the underbrush was alive with wildflowers as large as the palm of her hand, their dazzling colors drawn from across the entire visible spectrum.
“How can this even be here?” Varun’s voice, pitched low, trembled with disbelief. “We’re so far underground, there’s no sunlight in this place. Where is the light coming from?”
From all around us. But even Ashe knew it was not a good answer.
“Is the aether doing this?”
She shrugged. Probably not. The aether at Shulim never did this.
Varun spun around. “What? Are you’re saying that Shulim was powered by aether?”
Of course it was.
“What the hell do you mean of course? You never said anything when we were there.”
Possibly because I had other things on our mind—like escaping from my son’s army of infected mermen. Do you go around explaining electricity to people who visit your house?
“Will you stop with the ridiculous analogies? Why didn’t you tell me about aether back then?”
Because it wasn’t relevant to anything.
“It powered your city. It powered the Dirga Tiamatu. Perhaps I could have shut it down, if only I’d fully known what I was working with.”
Ashe swatted him away as if he were an annoying fly. I don’t think we’re alone in here.
He stiffened. “What do you mean?”
The air moved.
“Big move or little move?”
She chuckled at his characterization. Little move. Like a child.
“Or a really big rat.”
Or a really big rat, she conceded.
“Which way?”
She led the way through the underbrush, stepping lightly over flowers. Even so, the scent of crushed lavender rose up around her. Watch where you put your feet.
“I’m trying, but there’s no place to step where there isn’t already a flower. None of this is natural. If this is the energy source that powered Atlantis, why is there a forest here—at the heart of it?”
Over there.
She pointed to a cluster of trees—seven of them, evenly spaced around a gleaming golden pedestal. The tree trunks were smooth, as if the rough husks of the bark had been peeled off. The layer beneath was streaked in shades of green, merging with soft blended colors—brown, blue, red, and even yellow and purple. The trees rose like columns in a temple created by the Earth.
The flower-covered ground in the center of the trees elevated gradually to support the pedestal. Waist-high, the pedestal glistened like gold, but Ashe’s careful touch confirmed that it was far harder than pure gold. Adamantine, she told Varun. See? I tell you stuff.
His mouth twitched. Varun glanced at the nebulous dark cloud hovering above it. Purple streaked from its core, moving, as if alive. Its edges trailed like wisps, tasting the air. “What’s that?”
The aether core.
“There was one just like it, at Shulim, in the chamber that housed the Dirga Tiamatu.”
She nodded.
“Kai took it.”
Ashe’s head snapped up sharply. What?
“Before the Dirga Tiamatu destroyed Shulim, Kai reached out and it flew into his hand. It absorbed into his chest.”
Ashe’s eyes widened. So that’s why…
“That’s why what?”
The blast radius was contained. If the aether core had been struck, it would have extended for hundreds of miles and left a big hole in Europe.
“But it was just a small cloud—no larger than this.”
It’s aether. That small cloud powered all of Shulim for aeons past, and would have done so long into the future.
“And it’s in Kai now? But how? What’s he doing with it?”
Containing it. Keeping it safe.
“Does the fact that there isn’t a hole in the Earth several hundred miles across mean he’s still alive?”
Ashe frowned. I don’t know. It’s the collision of energy that makes the aether core unstable, and dangerous. If Kai’s carrying the aether core…I don’t know.
“We’ll find him,” Varun promised. He then drew a deep breath and shook his head sharply, as if recalling himself to the present. He pointed to the top of the pedestal. “And what’s this?”
A large sphere embedded in the middle of the pedestal was surrounded by five smaller spheres. Thin trenches connected the large sphere to the small ones, each distinguished by a different engraved icon: three wavy vertical lines; three wavy horizontal lines; a circle with a straight vertical line through it; a triangle pointed up; and an inverted triangle.
Below each of the small etched spheres was the imprint of a hand.
Ashe and Varun exchanged glances. “What do these mean?” Varun asked.
Ashe shook her head. I don’t know.
Varun took a deep breath then placed his hand against one of the imprints.
Nothing happened.
