by Jade Kerrion
“Destroy it!” Zamir pointed—not at Ashe, but at the pedestal.
“No!” Duggae threw himself in front of it. “Protect the Sphere of the Elements. It’s the only thing that can save the Earth!”
Varun grimaced. He would have thought that a device intended to save the Earth would have been better at saving itself. Counting on two elemental spirits and a knife-wielding human scientist seemed like a terrible defensive strategy.
Jinn leaped off Ashe’s shoulder and landed on the pedestal, circling it like an eagle over a nest. In spite of his broken wing, the parrot looked like a far better deterrent than the knife Varun held. Varun glared at the mermen wielding platinum spears. He kept running in to them, and he still did not have a solidly executable defense plan. He grimaced. It was long past time to stop depending on his wits, whatever he happened to have on hand, and a save from a well-placed breeze.
Ashe was already engaged in battle with the Beltiamatu, but there were too many of them, and all of them were stricken with the sickly hue of infection, which limited her ability to tear them limb from limb. That left him and Duggae to defend the pedestal. Varun expelled a shaky breath as he counted the mer-warriors stalking toward them.
Too many.
Far too many.
“Hold on to something,” Duggae muttered.
Varun wrapped his arm around Jinn before gripping the edge of the pedestal.
Duggae drew a deep breath. The gnome brought his arms, fists clenched, across his chest, then huffed out a quick breath as he yanked his arms apart.
The ground jolted, heaving like a wounded animal. The Beltiamatu warriors staggered sideways, then tumbled in a tangled heap of limbs. Duggae snickered. “It takes those damned merbabies a while to find their land legs.” He grimaced as the Beltiamatu clawed upright, their fists clenched around their platinum spears. “Persistent buggers, though.”
“Don’t spill their blood. Their poisoned blood will kill your forest.”
“Really?” Duggae spat out the question with the snap of a curse word. “If Asherah had smothered that little monster in his cradle, we’d all be better off today.” He snapped his fingers, and the soil sank into deep crevices, creating layers of trenches between the advancing Beltiamatu warriors and the rest of the forest. “It will slow them down, but we’ll have to drive them back to the ocean and then seal the marine entrance to keep them from reaching the pedestal and destroying it.”
“Can’t you just activate the sphere?”
“Only the earth element. And even Asherah can only activate air and water. There has never been one person who can activate four, let alone five, of the elements.”
Varun grimaced and ducked. The spear flung by a Beltiamatu warrior clattered against the pedestal. “So if no one can activate the sphere, why the hell are we defending it?”
“Because if Zamir destroys it, we will have no chance of defeating the Arbiter!”
We don’t have any chance of defeating her now, Varun wanted to snap back, but obvious logic was beyond the reach of these elementals. He grabbed the fallen spear and used it to knock the merman away.
Behind him, Jinn squawked. Varun twisted around. The parrot fluttered wildly, his broken wing beating against the chest of a Beltiamatu warrior who had lunged toward the pedestal. Varun swung the spear like a pole, smashing the metal shaft into the merman’s face. Bone cracked, and the merman fell back, his hands pressed against his face, blood leaking from his nose.
Jinn cackled. “Take that!”
“Nice one,” Varun said tightly. He looked up. “Ashe!”
She glanced in his direction.
“Drive them back to the water. We have to seal the marine entrance.”
She rose into the air and raised her arms. The wind that screamed into the chamber was hot and vengeful, as if she had pulled it from the Earth’s core. It blasted past the pedestal. Sparks of flame danced upon its breath, twirling in a frenzy.
It slammed against the Beltiamatu. For several moments, they staggered, trying to keep upright against its wind’s fury, but the speed of the wind and the heat swirling in its heart was too much for bodies accustomed to the constancy of the ocean.
“No!” Zamir screamed. “Hold your positions! Fight back! Kill them!”
But the mermen retreated. No one could stand against the powerful, flame-seared windstorm. They were driven back, even Zamir, to the edge of a large pool. They balanced on the brink—not yet ready to give up, not yet ready to fall.
Duggae jumped up and down, his fists pumping the air. The ground shook violently beneath the Beltiamatu. “Get out of here, bottom feeder. You can’t win—not against the power of the air and the earth.”
And the power of water.
Ashe flung her arm out. The wind roared and slammed the mermen into the water. The calm surface of the water suddenly swirled, as if a sleeping monster had been awakened. It churned and deepened into a whirlpool, sucking the Beltiamatu, one by one, into its depths.
The sudden silence startled Varun.
His shaky breath shattered the quiet. The water smoothed to glassy calm. The wind died as Duggae abandoned his guard post by the pedestal. He extended his hands over the pool. The ground twitched, as if alive, then spread slowly over the water. The thin layer, scarcely more than pond scum, thickened until it was as viscous as mud. It solidified, one layer building on top of another, until there was nothing to indicate where the pond had been. Duggae turned his clenched fists, facing up, then unfolded his fingers. A light breeze swept through the chamber, and moments later, grass sprouted on the newly formed surface. They swayed in the wind as young plants shot out branches and twigs. Leaf buds broke through, the light green darkening as flowers bloomed. Within minutes, that patch of grass looked no different from any other.
Varun expelled his breath. “So, there’s no way for Zamir and his Beltiamatu to return to Atlantis?”
“Not through this particular marine entrance, directly from the ocean to the aether well, but there isn’t just one way into Atlantis.”
“All right.” Varun tried not to grimace. “So how many entrances do we have to seal?”
“I don’t think you understand.” Duggae scowled. “It’s not as if there’s a map to this place. It’s a ruin. There are gaping holes where there were once walls.” He glared at Ashe’s back as she walked slowly over the former pond, as if testing the ground for weakness.
“Save it,” Varun told him. “I don’t think she feels any guilt over what happened to Atlantis all those years ago; she wasn’t even born then. What happened here?”
“It’s a long story.” Duggae pointed up at the murals splashed across the curve of the ceiling, which soared sixty or more feet above the ground. The mural on the farthest end of the room depicted people stepping out of a brightly glowing object—wide at the top, narrow at the bottom. Small, white-capped waves lapped at their feet, the blue of the waters a distinct contrast to the red background of the scene. “That’s the Beltiamatu, arriving from space.”
“But they have legs,” Varun murmured.
The gnome nodded. “At first they did. The land wasn’t ready for life, so they entered the sea instead. Luckily for humans, they did. It allowed humans to develop, separate of the Beltiamatu, at least for a while.”
In the second painting, a man, only the upper half of his body visible, emerged from the waves, his hand outstretched to a woman on the land. Duggae spoke, “Humanity was still young and civilization hardly even a thing when the Beltiamatu started paying attention to the land-dwellers again. It’s said that a mer-prince seduced a human girl, and conceived a child. Although more suited for life on land, the child received all the advantage of the Beltiamatu’s superior experience and technology—and the Beltiamatu’s longevity. That alone would have allowed him to accomplish far more than any human.”
“Did he have a soul?”
Duggae glared at Varun. “Why does that matter?”
“I don’t know.” Varun
spread his hands and shrugged. “Ashe and Zamir keep acting like it’s such a big deal, so I thought I’d ask.”
Duggae stared at Varun for several moments. Finally, the narrow-eyed suspicion and square-jawed hostility on Duggae’s face relaxed. “Yes, the child had a soul.”
“How do you guys figure this out?” Varun asked. “Ashe supposedly has no soul, but how can you tell? I mean, emotionally, mentally, she’s as put together as anyone else.”
Duggae blew out his breath and rolled his eyes. “You humans are so inured to the pulse of your soul that you don’t even know what it sounds like.”
“A soul has a sound?”
“A song.” Duggae’s smile started out slow, but turned dreamy, beautiful. “You can hear when it is in harmony with the aether.”
“Aether?”
“The universe.”
“Ashe said the aether was some kind of power source from the stars.”
“It is. And it is not.”
Varun’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Not helpful.”
“Really, human. We don’t have time to go about explaining everything to humans. We learned this over infinite lifetimes. It’s not going to get conveyed in a half-hour conversation.”
“Make the time. I’m here to help, but I can’t unless I know how to help, or at least how not to screw up.”
“The Beltiamatu don’t need your help screwing up. They’ve been screwing up since the dawn of recorded history. Atlantis did not break their stride. Their latest thing, poisoning the ocean—” Duggae shrugged. “It’s hardly a blip.”
“You don’t like them.”
“They think they’re above the rules and they don’t give a damn about consequences. As if the universe owes them for shorting their perfection by not giving them a soul.”
“So what happened to that half-and-half baby?”
“He became the first god-king of Atlantis. The city was built with Beltiamatu technology.” Duggae spread his arms to encompass the room. “Incredible know-how, combined with the abundant resources of Earth, the rabbit-like reproductivity of humans, led by an almost god-like being, Atlantis became a greater power than the Beltiamatu reckoned with. But they put up with it—after all, they were related. And so Atlantis grew unimpeded for several generations of kings.” Duggae pointed at the largest mural on the ceiling. A city of tall towers gleamed with light so dazzling as if to challenge heaven itself. Ships graced the calm waters around it.
Varun squinted at the hint of fish tails in the water around the island. “Is that decorative or…”
“The Beltiamatu?” Duggae completed. “Who knows if it was a nod to their past, or acknowledgement of their city’s protectors. Certainly, everyone knew that Atlantis was untouchable. The Beltiamatu destroyed any approaching navy before they reached the island.”
“And then what happened?”
“I guess the Atlantean king and Beltiamatu lord forgot they were related. That, and the then god-king was something of a peevish man-child.” Duggae shook his head. “There are two terrible traits for someone in charge. Immature and obsessive. Unfortunately, he was both, although some say he was goaded into it.”
“By whom?”
“The priesthood. There was a religious upheaval around the same time; old gods tossed aside in favor of the new. At any rate, about 2,000 years after the founding of Atlantis—the seventh god-king of Atlantis decided to expand his empire.”
“Nothing new or unexpected here.”
“Nope,” Duggae agreed. “The stupid part, however, was insisting that the Beltiamatu provide safe passage for his warships.”
“Given their previous relationship—”
“You can’t count on the Beltiamatu.” Duggae darted a glance at Ashe, but she did not appear to be listening. “They’re as volatile as the tides, as fickle as the wind that whips across the surface of the ocean. At that time, they were also a bit grumpy, feeling like they’d gotten the rotten end of the deal—and then this upstart human king starts ordering them around.” Duggae shook his head. “No one knows who started the war, but it started.”
Duggae traced the stones on the pedestal. “Some think that the Beltiamatu were afraid that their creation—the kingdom of Atlantis—was starting to think and act on its own. Others believe that the Beltiamatu realized that their first interference—the creation of a greater race by the blending of their races—was what was wrong in the first place. It would have eventually led to the extinction of pure-bred humans, so they took steps to remedy their mistake.”
Varun studied Duggae’s face. “What do you believe?”
“Doesn’t matter, does it? It’s said that the war between Atlantis and the Beltiamatu was more terrible than even the Beltiamatu expected. Losses on both sides were horrific, and then the Atlanteans struck what was almost a winning blow. They killed the Beltiamatu king, dragged his body onto the island, and hung it up, like a prize fish, slaughtered for display.”
“There are casualties in war,” Varun murmured. “But there was no need for cruelty.”
“No, and it is unwise to mock your creators. The Beltiamatu got tired of wasting their time, and activated the Dirga Tiamatu. It tore Atlantis apart.”
“Except for this chamber.”
Duggae nodded. “We protected it.” He continued softly. “The earth, water, and wind elementals rallied to protect the heart of Atlantis—the Sphere of Elements. We cocooned the aether core and deflected the worse of the blast around it. That’s why there is nothing left of the island around the core, yet the core survived.”
“But why would the Beltiamatu now destroy what they’ve protected all this time?”
“You mean the ocean?” Duggae roared with laughter. “You think the Beltiamatu are the water elementals? No, they are not. Zamir wasn’t just trying to evade his responsibility. He was telling the truth. The merfolk are merely an ocean-dwelling species. The nymphs are the true water elementals.”
“Then Ashe’s power—”
“It’s not from the trident. The Beltiamatu’s superior technology tricks the eye and deceives the mind, but it’s not true power.”
“Then how did Ashe come to command water?” Varun frowned. “The Nereid who died…”
Duggae nodded. “Power can be transferred if both parties consent to it. Ashe does not command water because she was a Beltiamatu. She commands water because she freely accepted a dying Nereid’s gift of power.”
“Is that the key, then, to lighting the sphere? To transfer the elemental power to one person?”
Duggae looked pained. “Technically, but seeing how an elemental would have to die, I doubt you’ll find lots of people lining up for that opportunity.”
“Why are you afraid of death?”
Duggae hemmed and hawed. “Not afraid, precisely…”
“You don’t have a soul, either, do you?”
The gnome grimaced. “It’s the price of power.”
“What do you mean?”
“The universe abhors imbalance. None of the elemental spirits have souls. It’s the price we pay for wielding power over the elements.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Spoken with the arrogance of one who does have a soul. You live forever. You mean something forever.”
“Do you have any idea how many people have died and left behind absolutely no living memory, no record of them anywhere?”
“You think like a man of science. The only facts that matter are the ones you can see, touch, hear, smell. You people with souls live forever. We don’t.”
“It doesn’t mean your life is worth nothing, that none of what you do counts. Protecting Atlantis, the oceans, the Earth…it’s more than humans were able to do.”
“Logic doesn’t work great when at the end, you’re faced with nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
“Okay, all right. I don’t understand, and we’ll leave it at that.” For now. Varun glanced at the pedestal and the Sphere of Elements. “You said the earth, water
, and air elementals protected the aether core when Atlantis was destroyed. You’ve said nothing about the fire elementals.”
“They have their own priorities, and they do their own thing.”
“Whose side are they on?”
Duggae frowned as if no one had ever asked that question before. “I don’t know. There are fewer of them, and they are weaker—simply because most of the Earth is air, water, and earth. There is little room for fire, except in specific areas.”
“Sounds like a recipe for a grudge.”
“We are elementals. We know our place.”
“Until someone doesn’t, and all hell breaks loose. Why would elementals be any more compliant than humans?”
“Because this is what we were created to do, and we know our calling, unlike humans.”
Varun shook his head. Duggae seemed, to him, absurdly optimistic. “What else can we do to secure the sphere? It’s not mobile, is it?”
Duggae frowned. “No, it’s not. It keeps the gate sealed.”
“The gate behind which we’d find this protector?” Varun frowned. “What’s under this? More earth? How far down are we?”
“Deeper than you think. We’re beneath the ocean floor.”
“And this part of the Atlantic is extremely deep,” Varun murmured. “If we seal the entrance Ashe and I used to come in here, you should be safe enough.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Ashe’s head snapped around. Clearly, she had been listening in. What did you say?
“I’m coming with you,” Duggae said.
This isn’t the grand world tour. Ashe’s voice bristled with annoyance.
“You will need me,” the gnome insisted.
“You don’t even know where we’re going.”
“You’re going to find the Great Arbiter. You can probably find her in Kutha.”
Varun’s eyes narrowed. “Where is Kutha?”
Ashe scowled. The gnome is just trying to be a smart-ass. Kutha is the capital city in Irkalla.
“And where is this Irkalla?” Varun asked.
The underworld.
“The generic underworld, or specific to a culture?”
