Atlantis Riptide: Lost Daughters of Atlantis Book 1

by Allie Burton

  A sudden high-pitched scream filled the water.

  I froze. Now, I knew how far a scream traveled. A chill traveled the length of my body.

  Chase and Finn stilled beside me.

  The seaweed doorway twisted. A limb pushed through the green weeds. Then a girl’s body held by the two guards from earlier.

  “Unhand me.” The girl commanded in a firm tone. She wore a golden bikini with a short, green flared skirt. Long, thick, brunette strands of hair stuck out of her elegant bun.

  “Just because you’re a princess doesn’t mean you’re in charge.” The guard sneered.

  “I should be in charge.” Her tone sounded sophisticated. Royal. “You can’t treat me like this.”

  “It’s for your own good, Princess Cordelia.” The guard with the four stripes held her arm.

  I sucked in a breath. She was one of the real princesses from the myth. The tale was real.

  “For the good of Atlantis Captain I need to find—”

  The captain slapped Princess Cordelia’s face. Her mouth made an O-shape.

  Chase fisted his hand as if he wanted to protect the captured princess. Finn stiffened beside me like he was in shock.

  Fake or real, she didn’t deserve to be slapped. I snarled wanting to defend her, too.

  “You will do what you are told.” The captain scolded. “A war is about to commence and we need you safe and in the palace.”

  She struggled against her captors. “If we produce proof—”

  “Be a good princess and get that silly stuff out of your head. The Separatists will never listen.”

  I watched them lead her away.

  My stomach sank. My skin tightened. I wanted to fight the guards. Our situations were similar. Princess Cordelia was being used for her position and powers. Similar to how Bill and Carlita had used me.

  We’d both run away. Only I’d been successful.

  She was a prisoner in her own kingdom.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Star Shocker

  I didn’t know why I felt a connection to Princess Cordelia. We came from different backgrounds. Our success in running away differed. She’d aligned herself with the Royalist side. Of course, since she was a princess she probably didn’t have a choice.

  I shot an accusing glance at Finn. The Royalists called Finn and his people Separatists, not Free Atlanteans. What was the real definition? I knew Finn thought himself a Free Atlantean. The real definition probably depended on your point of view.

  And I didn’t have enough facts to make a decision.

  “They’re out of sight.” Chase edged further into the hallway to spy on the Princess and her guards. “We should go after her. Help her.”

  I liked that Chase wanted to assist someone in need. His heroics warmed me inside.

  “Too dangerous for the three of us, especially Pearl.” Finn focused on me with a peculiar expression. “I’ll follow Cordelia and find out what’s going on.”

  “Why would we trust you?” I grabbed Finn’s shoulder. I wanted to help the princess, not hurt her. “You’re a Free Atlantean, or Separatist. Whatever the true label is.”

  “I know the tunnels.” His fierce expression tried to intimidate. “And I know Princess Cordelia. We played together as kids.”

  “You did?” My stance toward Finn softened.

  “I’d never hurt her.” His voice caught. His expression softened. Warmth and sorrow lit his pupils.

  “How do we know that?” Chase sounded protective like Finn.

  “You don’t.” Finn crossed his arms and glared. All the passion in his expression gone.

  Chase seemed to consider. “You’re right that three of us can’t follow her. Together we’d be caught.”

  “I know the tunnels and the palace. I know the politics. I know Princess Cordelia. I should go and make sure she’s okay.”

  Chase nodded and took hold of my hand. “We’re both new to this entire situation and don’t know who the players are. We should let Finn go.”

  “I don’t know.” No matter how silly, I felt somehow responsible.

  Chase held our entwined hands up and pointed at Finn. “The princess is in her own castle. I’m sure she’s fine. Let Finn check it out and he’ll get back to us. Right, Finn?”

  Finn’s slight nod showed he wasn’t paying attention. Worry lines creased his forehead as if trying to figure out how to get to Princess Cordelia. “Can you guys find your own way back?”

  I recalled the narrow passages, the choice of tunnels, the complete darkness with no identifying marks. A claustrophobic panic set in. My lungs squeezed tight. How would we get out?

  “I can.” Chase squeezed my hand and I sensed his confidence. “I wasn’t being a tourist. Breaking off those shells was like laying bread crumbs in case we got lost. Or were abandoned.”

  Chase truly was my hero. I could rely on him, trust him.

  My stomach bubbled, unsettled about the situation with Princess Cordelia, but both guys had a point. There was nothing I could do for her. My presence might even endanger her.

  After wishing Finn good luck, Chase and I swam through the tunnels and out the cave. I was so glad to have him beside me, guiding my way.

  * * *

  The next morning, I walked to the Boardwalk with a feeling of something hanging over my head. Princess Cordelia’s state of affairs worried me but I knew so little about Atlantean history and legend, I didn’t know which side to believe.

  Worry about Finn had also kept me awake. Even if I wasn’t sure about his decision to become a Free Atlantean, or if everything he told me was true, I trusted him. And I believed he wouldn’t hurt Princess Cordelia.

  I also wondered where the other two princesses were and if, gulp, my situation was connected. The thought of me being anything close to royal was ridicu-mongous.

  Who would ever believe I was an Atlantean Princess? I didn’t.

  As I clocked in, Mrs. Fowler approached me. “I’d like to speak to you, Pearl…Seidon.”

  Odd, how she paused before my last name. “I already clocked in.”

  “That’s okay. Come to my office.” Something about the way Mrs. Fowler’s stare zeroed in on me like a target made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, as if my hairs were a tiny army waiting for an unexpected attack.

  I fiddled with the door knob. “Do you know where I can find Chase Thomas?”

  “He’s upstairs getting dressed.” She waved in a general up direction. “He’ll be down shortly.”

  I collapsed against the door to her office and almost fell over when the door moved backward and hit the wall. Everything in my mind moved, shifted. Jarred. Chase was getting dressed upstairs in the owner’s apartment? In Mrs. Fowler’s apartment?

  “My nephew is always late for work.” Mrs. Fowler took a few steps toward me. “I guess that happens when you’re related to the boss.”

  My shoulders dropped. My ears popped. My eyes bugged out like I was an alien and didn’t speak the same language. “N-n-nephew?”

  She ushered me further into the room and closed the door. In my state of shock, I didn’t protest. She pushed me onto the cracked leather couch and took a seat beside me.

  Mrs. Fowler was Chase’s aunt.

  The aunt he had dinner with last night. The aunt he lived with. The aunt who insisted he study business instead of journalism.

  Why hadn’t I figure it out before? She called him on his cell phone all the time. She’d referred to him as honey. He was so deferential to her.

  “Tea, dear?” She held up an old metal pot from the table in front of us.

  “No.” I sunk back further. The cracks in the leather pinched my leg so I knew this wasn’t a dream.

  Chase hadn’t told me. He’d called her Mrs. Fowler, not Aunt Sarah. He’d never told me where he lived.

  Each thought slapped me in the head. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  I’d told him everything about me. Well, almost.

  “I have a busine
ss proposition for you.” Mrs. Fowler poured tea for herself. “The Boardwalk has been struggling financially for years. We need a big attraction.” She raised her hands and shook them like jazz hands. “An attraction that will draw crowds, bring families back to the Boardwalk.”

  I swallowed a lump of confusion, still thinking about Chase’s deception, not comprehending what Mrs. Fowler said.

  “In my late husband’s day,” her voice grew weary and sad, “there were lines for every ride and game. Our ticket sales were through the roof. We were known as a tourist destination.”

  I squirmed in my seat, not wanting to hear about the Boardwalk and its problems. I had enough of my own.

  “Now,” she picked up her teacup with shaking hands and sipped. “I can barely afford to fix the rides, pay the employees, or keep the gates of the Boardwalk open.”

  “Since he passed,” her voice cracked. “It’s just Chase and I. We’ve had a difficult time.”

  “I’m sorry.” I truly was, but I didn’t understand why she’d divulged the sad tale. At the moment I couldn’t focus on what she said when a haze of anger smoked over Chase’s omission. Why hadn’t he told me he was Mrs. Fowler’s nephew?

  “The Boardwalk is my late husband’s legacy.” She set her teacup down with a snap. Her voice filled with strength. “I need to save the Boardwalk for my husband’s memory and for my nephew to inherit.”

  For Chase.

  Her motivations were sincere, but I knew Chase didn’t want to run the Boardwalk. That’s the reason Mrs. Fowler pushed him into going for a business degree and not the journalism degree he desired.

  “You know, you might want to talk to Chase about your plans for the future.” I shouldn’t be defending Chase when he’d lied. But the sooner I pointed out to Mrs. Fowler that this had nothing to do with me, maybe she’d let me leave. Then I could go find Chase and yell at him.

  I didn’t hate him because he didn’t tell me his relation to Mrs. Fowler, but I didn’t understand. Why keep it a secret?

  “I have talked to him.” She stood and paced in front of the couch. “This is what’s best for the Boardwalk. What’s best for Chase.”

  “What are you talking about?” I hadn’t a clue what ran through her mind or why I was involved in the discussion.

  Mrs. Fowler appeared to float while she talked, like she had a brilliant thought and couldn’t wait to tell everyone. “A grand water show featuring a magnificent star who performs high dives from unimaginable heights.”

  Nausea crawled in my stomach.

  “Who swims at swift speeds.”

  Tension pulled on my spinal column trying to stretch my body to full height.

  “Who defies gravity with her strength.”

  Every hair, not only the ones on my neck, stood at attention.

  She held out her hands, palms up showcasing me. “You, my dear, will be our star performer.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bewildered & Betrayed

  I jumped to my feet. Pain sliced into my heart and ripped it apart. Finding it difficult to breathe, I panted in shallow gasps.

  Chase had told his aunt. He’d told her everything.

  For once in my life I’d been completely honest, well pretty honest, and I’d gotten screwed. Chase had used me, used his knowledge about me, and now wanted to put me on display like a circus freak.

  Screaming inside, I wanted to run away once again, but knew I had to control the damage. I didn’t want more people finding out about me and my abilities.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lame, when it was obvious Mrs. Fowler knew more than I’d ever imagined.

  She grabbed both my shoulders, her bony fingers digging into my skin. “You’ll be famous. More famous than before.” Her eyes glittered. “We’ll print billboards, run advertisements. There will be interviews on radio and TV.”

  I shoved her hands off me, still feeling her nails clinging like a crazed fan. “I don’t want to be famous.”

  “Everyone wants to be famous.” She poo-poohed my denial, pouting her lips and waving my protest away with her hand. “You’ll be like Esther Williams, Olympic swimmer and famous actress. And the Boardwalk will be saved.”

  “Who?” Not that it mattered. “I won’t do it.”

  I crossed my arms, giving up on convincing her I didn’t have the abilities. What was the point? Chase had witnessed everything. He’d probably given her a blow-by-blow account of our day yesterday.

  Negative thought after negative thought dove from my brain to my chest producing a tidal wave of hurt. Had he faked his feelings for me? Was this all about saving his legacy? Maybe he’d lied about not wanting to work at the Boardwalk, too.

  A sharp breath speared my lungs. What if he’d told her about the Royalists and Free Atlanteans? Were all those people in danger because of me?

  And because of Chase. I refused to take all the blame.

  The hurt flowed from my heart to my veins surging with power, building with anger. My muscles tensed. Rage and hurt mixed together like an explosive cocktail. He didn’t care about me. He didn’t care about me at all. He didn’t want my love or affection. He was like everyone else in the air-breathing world.

  The only thing he wanted from me was what I could do for him.

  Like a punch in the gut, that thought spurred me forward. I rushed toward the exit. My hand gripped the door knob.

  “Pearl. You’ve got a gift and you should use it.” Mrs. Fowler sounded like Carlita with her I-know-what’s-best-for-you tone.

  I turned to glare. “You mean you want to use me.” Fury simmered and burned. “I’ve been used my entire life for my abilities and I’m sick of it. I don’t want to perform like a trick pony. I don’t want to be on display. I don’t want to be different or a freak. I’m outta here.”

  I turned and yanked the door open.

  On the other side stood Chase. His instant smile lit my hot fuse.

  “Hey.”

  Exploding, I lifted my hand and slapped him across the cheek. My fingers burned with the harsh contact.

  His face flamed red. The white imprints of my fingers stood out on his cheek. “Pearl? Why—”

  “Don’t say anything.” Internal debris landed in my stomach, smoldering. I couldn’t listen to his phony explanations and lies.

  “Wait—”

  Not giving him a chance, I turned.

  “Chase, let her go.” Mrs. Fowler ordered, and he always listened to her. “Let her calm down.”

  There’d be no calming down. I fled the building and ran all the way to the campground.

  Swiping at the tears, I slowed passing the office and continued to my tent. I sorted through my belongings, knowing I’d have to be quick. I didn’t want to think about what had happened.

  The sleeping bag and tent I wouldn’t need for life under the sea. I shoved the clam with the pearl and nautilus inside my backpack. After stripping off my work uniform, I balled it up and threw it into the corner of my tent. Then, I put on my bathing suit and cover-up.

  I opened the worn duffel bag with all my clothes. My fingers touched Chase’s sweatshirt and my tummy seared. He’d told his aunt about me. He’d never reciprocated my feelings. He used me.

  Although, I hadn’t felt like I was being used. The searing tummy lightened. My gut instincts told me to trust him and they’d always been pretty accurate.

  Up until now.

  Pulling out his sweatshirt, I couldn’t resist the urge to rub the soft fabric against my cheek. His scent filled the tiny space inside the tent. I breathed in deeply knowing I’d never see him again. My heart contracted, squeezed tight. I didn’t know if I could ever believe again. If I could ever love again.

  Betrayed or not. My secret was out. I owed it to Finn and the other Atlanteans, Free and Royal, to warn them.

  I tossed the sweatshirt aside and slipped out of the tent. Taking one last glance around, I touched the pearl necklace around my neck. The one constant in my life. The one I�
�d been given by my biological parents.

  Most likely, the circus owners had lied about that too.

  I’d run away from the circus.

  And now, I was running away from the Boardwalk.

  From Chase.

  From all air-breathers.

  * * *

  Except this time, I wasn’t actually running. I was swimming away.

  I knew the general direction to go. I’d paid attention on the way back from the Free Atlantean base with Finn and thanks to Chase, I knew to head toward the East Pacific Rise.

  Guess he helped with something. He helped my escape from him.

  Following the varying ocean floor surfaces, I soon found myself swimming between high peaks. The water warmed nearing the thermal vents and white flakes floated by. The trip had gone by quickly because my brain still steamed. My body used the negative energy to go faster.

  Twirling around, I studied each direction.

  An orange octopus waved its protruding arms.

  Remembering one of my recently discovered skills, I asked, “Can you help me?”

  The creature’s small head seemed to nod between the large arms—arms so large they looked like elephant’s ears.

  I moved a little closer but not close enough to get hit. “I’m trying to find the Free Atlantean base. Which way do I go?”

  The octopus shifted again. The creature’s arms rippled with the current. One arm seemed to push out further pointing me in a southerly direction.

  “Thank you.” Kicking my feet, I was off.

  Once I warned the two sides maybe they would unite behind a common enemy—Chase and the air-breathers. Then, there would be no underwater war and I wouldn’t have to choose a side.

  The current changed. Green seaweed floated in front of me. The plant shimmered with a strange aura. I reached out to push the seaweed out of my way, but it circled around like a net, entrapping me.

  Just what I needed. Suicide seaweed.

  I hacked at the plant. Blood pounded through my veins. My pulse banged an angry rock tune. My legs and arms kicked out. I didn’t have time for this.