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Authors: Katherine Irons

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy

Oceanborne (25 page)

BOOK: Oceanborne
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“Morwena's a fine one to watch over your human,” Poseidon said with unconcealed sarcasm. “When has she ever bothered to concern herself with proper behavior for a royal princess? She's as much a scamp as the four of you.” He glanced at the queen. “Has any king of Atlantis ever been burdened by such wayward children?”
“They are spirited, my lord,” the queen agreed. “A trait they inherit from their father.”
“Highness, if you wish us to save as many lives as possible, we must dispatch a force at once,” Lord Mikhail said.
“You tend to it,” the king said. “And take …” He pointed at Paris. “Take that youngster with you. We'll see how well he's earned the grades he achieved at the academy.”
“Have we your leave to assist Lord Mikhail?” Orion asked his father. “Morgan, Alexandros, and me?”
“You may go, but you may not stay,” Poseidon said. “I need you here. We may need to move swiftly to attack the horde if they take advantage of the tidal wave. You have your own commands.”
“Thus speaks Poseidon, high king of Atlantis,” Zale declared. “We hear and obey, great lord.”
“And may we not live to regret my decision,” the king said with a pointed look toward the queen. “For we all know where the suggestion came from and where blame must fall if this turns out badly.”
“It will not,” she assured him. “And now I will leave you gentlemen to decide how best to proceed,” she said. “May the Creator smile on your deeds and reward your valor.” And with that, she rose, motioned to Lady Jalini, and the two left the room together.
In the library, Morwena gathered an armload of scrolls and deposited them on the marble table in front of Elena. “Here are some of our earliest histories,” she said. “I can translate if you'd like.”
Elena gently unrolled the first scroll. She wasn't certain of what material it was fashioned, and the inscription was unlike anything she'd ever seen. She could hardly tear her eyes away, and yet, she could hardly stop staring at the vast structure that rose around her.
If this was a dream and not Atlantis, she had a better imagination than she'd ever guessed. Instead of an archeologist, she should have become a screen writer. She would have made her fortune.
The princess, Morwena, as Orion had introduced her, seemed a perfectly ordinarily, if exceedingly beautiful and intelligent, young woman, an easygoing girl with a bow and quiver of arrows thrown over one shoulder. She was friendly without being overly false, and she seemed genuinely excited to be given the task of baby-sitting the stranger.
Around them, scholars and students removed scrolls from the compartments on the walls, seemingly studying them and taking notes as might have taken place in any university library. They looked like perfectly ordinary people, not monsters or freaks. Elena saw no obvious gills or webbed feet or fish tails. What were strange were the dolphins that swam through the vast rooms, seemingly as occupied with the pursuit of research and academic tasks as the people.
“We can't stay long,” Morwena whispered. “I have a dance class that I'll be thrown out of if I don't attend. I've already missed two sessions and Lady Halcyone is quite strict. But she isn't ill-tempered. I'm certain she'll allow you to watch. We've never had a human visitor, but we often have beings from other …” She hesitated. “Other places.”
“So …” Elena said. “You aren't human, and none of these … people.” She indicated the occupants of the library. “They are … like Orion.”
“Yes, Atlanteans,” Morwena said.
“And they … they look … exactly like humans?”
“Not exactly.”
“Different.”
Morwena nodded.
“A little different, or scary different?” The teaser for an old TV movie flashed across Elena's mind, and she watched the image of something like a walking catfish arise from a pond … something
From the Black Lagoon
.
“Different. Not scary to us, certainly. Natural.” Morwena sighed. “It must seem strange to you, but I assure you, we're quite peaceful. No one here will take a bite out of you.” She chuckled. “Bad joke, I'm sorry.”
“It's a great deal to swallow,” Elena agreed. She had a suspicion that Orion and his sister might still be hypnotizing her or using
illusion
as Orion had said. She might be seeing what they wanted her to see, but she wasn't ready to take that leap, so she pursued that line of questioning no further.
“This library,” Elena said. “It's … it's … I've never seen anything like it.” It was large, larger even than the Museum of Natural History at the Smithsonian in Washington, but much more beautiful. The columns and statues and soaring dome were magnificent. The long tables and benches were apparently fashioned of pink marble, and all was neat and orderly. It was breathtaking, as much so as her first sight of the city Orion had told her was the capital of Atlantis.
She was fast running out of rational explanations for him and this whole under-ocean world. Could it be possible that it was real? That this was Atlantis—that her father had been right and the city was as real as Paris? This was all too confusing … and too intriguing. If she was dreaming, she didn't want to wake up. That would mean leaving Orion and his wonderful world behind. And she didn't want to do that, not by half.
Getting here—to this place Orion insisted was Atlantis—had been frightening. Against his better judgment, Orion had relented and led her into another of the strange wind tunnels. When the earthquake had grown worse, he'd called the seraphim transport the best of several bad choices.
The passage had been surprisingly brief, even though Orion claimed that they'd traveled halfway across the Atlantic to reach the kingdom. It had seemed to take only a minute or two. This city was like something out of ancient Greece or an altered Egyptian Alexandria. Everywhere she looked there were columned buildings and wide streets and open parkland, at least what Orion called parkland or public gardens.
Elena had had only a few minutes to recover her wits when Orion had whistled up a passing dolphin that had swum away and returned with his sister Morwena. At first Morwena was all eyes and nearly speechless with wonder at meeting her, but that quickly changed.
“You two will be fast friends,” Orion assured them. “And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be somewhere important.”
“Which is?” Elena demanded.
“I'll explain later,” he'd replied, and then he was gone, leaving his sister to guide and watch over her.
“I was on my way to the library,” Morwena had explained. “That's how I got here so fast. It's only a short way. Would you like to see it?”
Which was how they'd arrived here. But now, apparently, Morwena was about to lead her away to someplace she referred to as the temple where she was a student. Elena wanted to ask Morwena's age, but didn't want to appear rude. She could be anywhere from her late teens to late twenties, and stunning enough to be a world-class model. Since most of what Orion had ever told her had been an untruth, Elena knew she should be skeptical about anyone she met or anything she saw here, but she liked Morwena. And she thought Orion might be right about their becoming friends.
“We'll take a short cut,” Orion's sister said, signaling to an attendant to take charge of the scrolls they'd examined. “My dolphin, Freyja, is waiting for us outside the Courtyard of the Three Mermaids. She'll let us ride double. If we hurry, I won't even be the last one to class.”
Morwena slung the quiver over her shoulder and picked up her bow. “It's a beautiful courtyard with shell paths and a lovely sculpture.”
“I'm going to dance class with a Diana lookalike, riding double on a dolphin.” Elena took a deep breath. “Do I have a choice?”
Morwena smiled, a mischievous grin that reminded Elena of Orion's. “We always have a choice,” the princess said. “Don't be afraid. Freyja is perfectly safe. And not a soul would harm us in Atlantis.”
CHAPTER 23
I
n the heart of Melqart's temple, Halimeda watched as he lifted a bronze bowl from the fire and tilted it back and forth. The boiling water splashed over the sides, and she could smell the skin on his hands cooking and see blisters rising. She'd always taken pleasure from the pain of others, and it excited her to imagine what it would feel like if Melqart were Atlantean.
But, he was not. He was not anything that knew physical sensation, not hot or cold, not wet or dry. She wondered if he was lonely, despite the sacrificial brides that had been offered him over the eons. Gods such as Melqart had their limitations. As much as he liked to pretend that he was lusty, she doubted that he'd ever experienced real sexual satisfaction. And as much as he boasted of his limitless power, he had weaknesses. She intended to ferret out those weaknesses and exploit them for her own gain.
Her own needs were much more primitive and easily satisfied. She craved beauty in her face and form, and that she'd been born with. She enjoyed potent wine, fatty meat and fish, preferably raw and still twitching, glittering jewels, and rich clothing. She yearned for constant adoration, bawdy play, and frequent orgasm. Melqart had teased and tantalized her with promises of sexual delights beyond any she could imagine, but so far, he'd given her nothing but a headache. For all the disappointments he'd caused her, she had to admit that Poseidon was a more potent lover who'd rarely failed to please her between the sheets.
When she'd attempted to eliminate Poseidon, she'd traded her position as a queen of Atlantis to be Melqart's handmaiden. Now, she wondered if she'd made a poor choice. True, the king hadn't made her high queen as she desired, but she had gained much from the arrangement, and she'd managed to keep her son on the path to inheriting the throne.
Melqart had done nothing for Caddoc and little for her, other than countering the poison she'd tried to administer to her husband and restoring her natural good looks. Without a doubt, the god of war was not the deity he'd pretended to be, not in any area.
When Melqart wasn't transforming himself into a sperm whale, a man-bull abomination, or a giant toad with drooling mouth and warty skin, he could assume the image of a handsome naked male with awesome equipment. She had yet to see those promising attributes in action. She doubted that he ever made proper use of his multitudes of virgins. In short, until he proved otherwise, she considered the Phoenician god of war to be nothing short of an overblown adolescent with an active imagination.
Sensing that the bloom was off the oyster where she was concerned, Melqart had sought to impress her. He boasted that he could cause the earth to shake and the sea to rise and scour the face of the land empty of life. “These humans who dare to steal from my treasure ship will remember my name!” he'd roared. “And they shall tremble before my image.”
Halimeda was dubious. She'd have to see the earthquake and tidal wave to be impressed. Watching humans suffer and die wasn't as much fun as if they had been her personal enemies among the Atlantean royal family. But drowning her rival queens and concubines wasn't an option. They weren't immortal; they could die, but it wasn't as easy as snuffing out the lives of silkies, mermaids, or masses of puny humans. To keep herself from expiring from pure boredom, she'd keep up her own campaign against the house of Poseidon.
Melqart continued to shake the bowl to and fro, and deep in the bowels of the earth, rock groaned and split and lava boiled. “Come forth!” he hissed. “Rise up!”
As Halimeda listened, the groaning became the howling of damned souls and she felt the cave shudder. “This roof isn't going to come down around my ears, is it?” she demanded. “Not much of a spell if you make the earth crack and heave and crush your own high priestess.”
“Cease your endless nagging or I will smash you like the centipede you are,” he warned. “I am master here. You exist only through my mercy. And no one has appointed you high priestess.”
“Consort, then,” she suggested. “Your queen, if you will.”
“Melqart needs no queen.”
She rolled her eyes. He'd come to believe he did, soon enough, and she'd be certain he thought it was his idea. She'd intended to inform him of her plans to snatch Poseidon's daughter as a sacrificial offering. Perhaps the promise of fresh virgin fuel for his fires would ignite the lust Melqart dangled like bait just out of reach.
Soon, this very night, Caddoc and Tora would snatch Morwena and deliver her up trussed like a breakfast squid. Halimeda might even allow Caddoc the credit for bringing Melqart the prize. So far, her son had done little to win Melqart's favor, and they needed his help.
Morgan's wife and unborn child, she would deal with personally. She'd bribed a servant for a few strands of Rhiannon's hair and an intimate article of clothing. Halimeda would need to go to the princess's apartments if she could find her way into the palace unobserved. Such a powerful spell wouldn't work properly at a distance. It was too easy to make a mistake and either kill Rhiannon or send her into a frenzy, rather than driving her permanently insane. And the magic had to be strong enough to destroy the fetus and to wither Rhiannon's womb so that it would quicken with life no more.
White caps flecked the tops of the waves in Melqart's copper bowl. The water swirled and churned in a circular motion until the gleaming bottom of the container was revealed. As Halimeda watched, the bowl cracked and fell in two halves, but the water didn't spill onto the stone floor. Instead, the liquid hovered in the air like a living blob, contracted into a tight mass, and flowed forward in a malevolent wall many times its original size.
Melqart laughed. “Already their buildings crumble and fires gnaw at their cities. When I tire of the humans' screams, I'll send the tidal wave. Would you care to see?”
He seemed in a good mood. It was on the tip of Halimeda's tongue to tell him about Morwena and her suitability for sacrifice, but it might be wiser to remain still until she could produce Poseidon's daughter for his pleasure. Melqart might not be as powerful as he claimed, but it didn't do to anger him unnecessarily. And to promise him a virgin princess and then not deliver might have unpleasant repercussions.
Halimeda believed the Samoan to be worthy of her trust, but she wasn't convinced that he was infallible. Tora was Caddoc's man, and where her son was concerned, sad to say, her most brilliant plans sometimes went amiss. While her son had inherited her beauty, he hadn't been fortunate enough to get her brains as well. At times, she thought Caddoc bordered on stupid. Luckily, intelligence wasn't required of royalty. What was important was the ability to intimidate one's subjects and to reproduce an heir.
“I'd forgotten how much fun an earthquake can be!” Melqart declared.
He'd sprouted those ridiculous horns again, blue ones that curled outward. Ridiculous appearing, in her opinion.
Make up your mind
, Halimeda thought. Be a bull or a man, but not both at the same time—it was disgusting.
“Are you certain you don't want to see the results?” he asked.
“If you must, omnificent one,” Halimeda said. “Show me your handiwork, and then I have an appointment that I must keep—with Prince Morgan's family.”
 
“Now that you've got her here, what do you intend to do with the human?” Alexandros asked his twin. The two had gathered volunteers from the troops and were preparing to travel by seraphim to the earthquake-ravaged coasts. They would be there in less time than it had taken to convince Poseidon that they should go to the humans' aid, but whether they would be there before the tsunami hit was anyone's guess.
“I don't want to talk about Elena,” Orion said. “We've not settled things between us yet.”
“But you want her?”
“Yes.”
Alexandros arched a golden eyebrow. “But you haven't asked
the question?
Which means you aren't sure
.
” He grimaced. “Take her back to her own kind, brother. Deposit her on some mountaintop far from Melqart, and forget you ever met her.”
“I can't.” Orion strapped a trident to his back. When it came to seraphim, he preferred his own weapons.
“Can't or won't?”
“I said I didn't want to talk about her.”
“Father's not stupid. When he stops to think about it, he'll realize that this woman of yours is more than a victim of the earthquake that you rescued. He'll come down on you hammer and tongs. You know how prejudiced he can be where humans are concerned.”
“Drop it, Alex.”
Orion's second-in-command approached. “Men are ready, sir.”
Orion nodded and tightened the cords that secured his sword sheath. “We'll lead off. Follow, but pace yourselves. It won't do to put too many in the canal at one time. We'll rendezvous off the beach at Rethymo.”
“Yes, sir!”
“And warn the men to keep their shields up. There are bound to be people with their little camera phones. Snap. Snap. We want no likenesses identifying us as other than human. I'll have the skin off any man's back who drops his illusion, even for a heartbeat.”
The warrior slammed his fist against his chest, acknowledging both the order and the reason behind it. He was a steady man, and Orion trusted him. Every soldier with them had been handpicked. Orion only hoped they arrived in time to save lives. If they didn't, going would be a waste of time, and the king didn't accept excuses.
Orion wished he'd had time to return to Elena and tell her that he had to leave. He couldn't have explained why, but she'd be angry with him for depositing her with Morwena and vanishing. His sister would take good care of Elena. He was certain of that. He only hoped she could maintain her own illusion.
He would have to be the one to take the final step and let Elena see his true appearance. He wanted to take things slowly between them. He thought he loved her—he was certain she was the woman for him. But asking her to give up her human life to be with him and his kind at the bottom of the sea was a giant step. If he asked, and she refused, the consequences for him would be bad. Not simply bad—disastrous. He had no desire to spend the next thousand years entombed in a block of ice.
Alexandros leaned close. “Watch your back, brother.”
“You watch it.” Orion grinned. “And I'll watch yours.”
“Oh, I will,” Alexandros replied. “If anything happened to you, I'd be the one stuck with trying to return your woman to land and making sure her memory is wiped as clean as a rain-washed beach.”
 
Morwena led Elena down a series of steps and through a narrow doorway that led from the library into the Court of the Three Mermaids. Morwena hoped that her teacher and friends wouldn't be angry with her for bringing Elena to the dance class at the temple. Most of the others would probably be intrigued, as she was, by Elena's novelty.
Elena was the first human she'd ever spoken to, and to her surprise, Morwena found Orion's guest both intelligent and fascinating. But she knew that many Atlanteans thought little of the earth walkers. Because there had been bad feeling between the species for so many thousands of years, there was a strong prejudice against humans among her people. Someone was bound to complain, and it wouldn't take much effort to submit a request for official censure against both her and Elena.
Not that that bothered Morwena. She usually went her own way, and if she made enemies in the process, so be it. She'd been censured more than once since she'd begun her studies. It was more important that she keep her promise to Orion to protect Elena and to make her feel welcome. Besides, she reasoned, being Poseidon's daughter did have a few perks. It would take something really bad to get her expelled from the temple.
Morwena thought that bringing Elena along would be better than skipping her class in ritual dancing. It was a required course that she had to pass, and she'd already missed two classes this period. Not that Morwena didn't enjoy it—she did. But dancing didn't come naturally to her as it did to Alexandros or to her mother. She always felt that she was one step off the beat. She'd always been more at home on the archery range or riding a half-broken sea horse in the open ocean far from the city walls.
Luckily, the path she'd chosen for her future was wide. The temple had room for men and women of many different talents and skills. Becoming a high-degree priestess took decades and was never an easy life. She had three more grades to complete before she had to decide which area to major in. The problem was, she was interested in so many things. Illusion had always fascinated her, but Lady Athena's gift of healing called to her as well. Morwena had an inborn love of far vision and some natural talent for seeing into the past or the future, but the field was crowded. It would take luck and many years of study to rise high enough to reach a place of prominence in the science.
“I like to come this way,” Morwena said to Elena as they followed the curving shell walk around the three statues through the swaying columns of greenery. “Not so crowded. And I thought you might like the garden. My dolphin Freyja is waiting in the alley just beyond that gate.”
BOOK: Oceanborne
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