Of Sea and Stone (Secrets of Itlantis) (18 page)

“But how did you end up here?” Lyssia asked. “If it was the military taking you to be soldier-slaves, shouldn’t you be on a ship somewhere?”

“Nol fought when they came for him, so they left him behind on the ship,” I said. “And I—I don’t know why I was taken in the first place. I was the only girl. After the others were gone, they moved us to a smaller cell, and then Myo came and said my execution had been ordered. I begged him to save Nol too.”

“You did?” Nol said, startled.

I stared at my feet. “He smuggled us off the ship and brought us here. He forbade us to say anything—and really, why should we have trusted you?”

“A fair point, I suppose,” Merelus admitted.

Nol and I sat in silence after that. I was wrung dry; spilling the story had exhausted me. I watched as Merelus paced and Lyssia wiped at her eyes.

“What happened to you both is wrong and illegal,” Merelus said finally. “Indentureds are working to pay off debt or petty crime, and then they are free citizens again. Slavery is not tolerated here, and that is what happened to you and the others kidnapped from your village—slavery. We must alert the senate that such barbarism and injustice is happening in our nation.”

“Alert the senate?” Fear sank into my stomach. Myo had insisted that we tell no one. “What will happen to us? What will they do? We’ll be killed. That man—”

“Whoever he was, he has more to fear for his crimes. You are safe,” Merelus said. He crossed the room and squatted in front of me. “You are as safe as my own daughter. I swear it, Aemi. In a few days’ time we will travel to Primus as planned, and there we will have you both tested. Your blood will reveal your ancestry. There will be no denying the truth of your claims. We will tell your story before the senate, publicize it throughout Primus. People will be outraged. The senate will be forced to take action. And with the news that people live on the surface, talk of peace will become even timelier.” He reached out to clasp my hands. “You just might end a thousand-year war, Aemi.”

~ ~ ~

When we finally were allowed to leave the study, after Merelus had made a dozen plans of action and changed them again and again, Nol and I walked through the halls without speaking.

“Did you really ask Myo to save me too?”

We stopped in the hall. The air grew hot between us. I couldn’t look away from him.

“I did,” I breathed.

His eyes darkened, and he reached out and touched my cheek. A spark of feeling shot across my skin. My pulse thudded. I swayed toward him unconsciously.

But then he jerked away and leaned one shoulder against the wall, turning his back to me. I braced myself and shook my head.

What was I thinking? It was Nol.

“You were careless,” he said. “You made a mistake.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “I did. I slipped up and mentioned the village. But this is a good thing. They’re going to help us. We’ll be able to go home now without having to run away, without the risks.”

“Don’t you see?” He whirled to face me. “They just want to use us, like everyone else. We are going to become symbols for their cause. They won’t let us go home because they are going to realize they need us. Peace isn’t going to come as easily as they hope. I don’t believe that. I was a mayor’s son. I saw how easily even the smallest matter could become bogged down in deliberations, arguments, debates. These people are not ruled by a king. They will not simply be commanded to take a particular action. They will talk and talk and talk, and we will be prisoners again, this time by idealists instead of slavers.”

Dismay fizzled through me as his words sunk in. I did not want to believe it, but he might be right.

“What do you think we should do, then?”

He sighed heavily. “Proceed as planned. Escape once we reach Primus.”

“And Merelus and Lyssia?”

“They must know nothing about it. Nothing.”

Heaviness spread through my limbs like sand. “All right.”

“Promise me!”

“I promise.”

He walked away.

~ ~ ~

I did not sleep that night. I did not want to leave my friends, not when they were counting on me to help them, but Nol was right. We would become pawns again, pawns in another’s game. I thought of my mother, of sunlight and sky, of Perilous and Kit and my promise to find them both.

I needed to find my home. It was the only thing I could let matter right now.

THE DAYS LEADING up to our journey to Primus passed rapidly. Merelus declared that we needed new clothing if we were to appear before the senate, and a tailor was hired to make these new clothes, with no expense spared. I spent hours being prodded and made to turn and stand while the man, a wiry fellow with bushy dark hair and a mouth that was constantly mouthing measurements, measured me and scribbled on a tablet.

Lyssia kept close to me, as if feeling guilty for failing to discover my secret earlier. Sometimes, she asked me about the surface. “Isn’t the sky just like the ocean? All blue, with birds swimming in it?” Or, “Why do people live on the surface, with all the dangers? I’ve heard the sun is like the brightest lamp anyone has ever seen, and that people go blind just looking at it. And it burns the skin. Isn’t that tremendously dangerous?” And once, in a hushed tone, she asked, “Do you miss it?”

It was difficult to answer that question.

“Yes,” I said. “Sometimes.”

The words burned on my lips like I’d uttered a falsehood, but I wasn’t sure if my answer was a lie or not. I did miss it, didn’t I?

The truth about Nol and my origins was to remain a secret until we reached Primus, lest it cause undue attention and interference with Merelus’s plan to go to the senate. I was relieved that I would not have to recount my story to anyone else in the house, although another part of me had begun to ache to tell Mella and Tob the truth about my past, now that I’d spoken about it once.

The ship that was to take us to Primus arrived the day before we were scheduled to leave and docked off the house at Merelus’s private dock for his inspection. It was a lightship, small and sleek for quick travel, large enough to sustain six people comfortably on the days-long voyage to Primus.

Lyssia and I explored it in wonder before dinner. A main cabin lined with padded benches made up the largest portion of the ship. Stripes of transparent material afforded views of the sea outside, and the sloping walls shimmered like the inside of a seashell. A helm at the front housed the controls, and a storage room for luggage and galley for cooking comprised the lowest level. A ladder with lights set in its rungs led to three small rooms at the top of the ship, each containing two bunks and a wall of drawers. Lyssia and I packed the sleeping quarters we would be sharing, her chattering with excitement the entire time, me silent as my mind spun with speculation about the day ahead. My whole body rioted with nervousness, anxiety, and indecision. We had to take this chance. We had to leave now, as Nol had said.

Why didn’t I want to?

Nol looked the ship over, too, and I could see him considering the possibility that we could take it, pilot it ourselves. However, its captain did not leave it, and soon the ship disengaged to fuel elsewhere before the long journey, taking our chance with it.

The night before we were to leave for Primus, I couldn’t sleep. I threw back my coverlet and slipped across the floor to the round window that looked out onto the sea, but it was too dark to see if the ship that would carry us to Primus had returned yet.

My stomach twisted with knots. I paced the room, restless and sick with nerves, and then I threw open my closet and tugged out the suit Nol had given me. I tugged it on, marveling at the way the fabric clung to me, warming me. Zippered pockets in the waist held thin packets that could be inflated in case I found myself in the water. I smoothed my fingers over them.

I bit my lip and dragged my thoughts away from anything having to do with the escape. There was no advantage to mentally chewing over it until I was exhausted and ill. As I sank onto the edge of my bed, I realized something else.

I wanted to see the gardens one last time.

The whole city slumbered as I left Merelus’s house and headed for the garden spheres. The lights in the common areas were dimmed to soft gold colors, and few other individuals roamed the streets, some headed for occupations based on their uniforms, others perhaps just as sleepless as myself for some reason. My footsteps echoed strangely in these vast, now-empty places. The sea outside was black with night.

When I reached the garden spheres, I paused. Which one did I want to visit first?

I started with Arctus. The bright white shades of the garden were muted with lights of soft violet for the sleeping hours. I wandered the paths, soaking in the fragrant scents and memorizing the beauty of the sculpture, the flowers, the artistry of foliage. After Arctus, I visited the Celestrus garden, then the Primus one. I avoided the Volcanus and Magmus gardens, for the thought of walking alone on those paths, lit only by a reddish glow, gave me shivers. I saved my favorite for last.

Verdus.

The green and gold lights enfolded me as I ascended the ramp, and the trickling sound of fountains soothed me. I sank down onto a bench and leaned back, tipping my head to see the lights that sparkled above me, soaking in the feel of this place that I would never see again. I wanted to memorize every single detail.

A carved word in the stone above me caught my attention. It was written along a lip of rock that hung over a column, visible only from the vantage point of the bench.

PERILOUS.

I stilled as a jolt of something cold shot through my heart and stomach.

Flanked by columns
.

Surrounded by blue and green
.

I shut my eyes, and everything was golden through my eyelids. My legs began to tremble. My lips opened, but no words came out as the world telescoped around me. I couldn’t sort through the avalanche of thoughts cascading into my mind.

Columns.

Blue.

Green.

Gold.

Perilous.

Perilous...here.

I couldn’t breathe. My lungs ached. My mind froze. I was shaking; my stomach hurt. I bent over, sucking air into my paralyzed lungs, pressing one hand to my throat to hold back a cry of shock. My whole body was numb.

How could this be true?

I jumped to my feet and paced.

Perilous.

Here.

My mother—an Itlantean.

My mother’s stories ran through my head. A million questions threatened to drown me. They sparked on my tongue and filled my throat. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to stuff down the swell of emotion. I didn’t understand. If she was Itlantean, why hadn’t she told me about this world, these cities? Why disguise the truth? Why use an invented name? And why had she left? How had she ended up as a thrall in the Village of the Rocks?

The water outside the sphere was beginning to lighten with morning. The dark outlines of fish grazed the glass and fluttered away into the darkness beyond. A bit of seaweed, carried by the water, scraped along the edge of the sphere like a leaf lost in the wind. Far away, just beyond the reach of the brightening sunlight beginning to warm the water, was a light.

I peered up at it, squinting to see better as the light flickered and grew. No, three lights. Six? They appeared one after the other, moving in formation, growing steadily larger, like underwater stars. Soon there were more than twenty. Ships?

I moved to one of the pathways that curled up the side of the garden sphere and climbed it until I had a better view. I pressed my hands to the glass and watched in wonder as the lights drifted closer, forming three lines of formation. It was beautiful. Beautiful and strange, like a final sendoff gift for me before I left this place forever.

A blast of light shot from closest ship, along with a rush of bubbles and cylindrical object that seemed to move in slow motion. My mind dimly noted it as a torpedo. A weapon. A thing of destruction. What was this thing of destruction doing here? I stared, transfixed, unable to process what I was seeing. Numbness spread through me. My thoughts were frozen.

What.

Was.

Happening?

Far away, I heard a rumbling roar, and the floor beneath my feet trembled.

We were under attack.

MORE BURSTS OF light danced across the line of ships, and more explosions rocked the city.

It was minutes or hours, then I could move again, and I was running, stumbling, scraping my hands and knees, pulling myself up and running again down the pathway and toward the exit. Everyone was sleeping. They had to flee. We had to fight. I had to wake them. Lyssia. Tob. Mella. Nol. Merelus. All of them.

A device on the wall gleamed bright in the corner of my vision, PULL FOR ASSISTANCE, it said. I stumbled toward it and yanked the gilded handle. A crackling sound filled the air.

“How may I help you?”

“We’re under attack,” I gasped. “Sound the alarm!”

A roar of exploding fire and rupturing metal came from close by, and the ground shook so violently that I fell again. I scrambled up, panting, gasping, sobbing as I ran for the exit.

“Aemi!”

I looked around wildly. “Nol?”

His hands caught me. He was shaking. We clung to each other, breathing hard, neither of us coherent.

“What—? What are you—? Why are you here?”

“I couldn’t find you earlier,” he panted. “I thought you might be here, and I was at the platform when everything started exploding. What’s happening?”

“We’re under attack!”

“Attack?”

We staggered against a wall as the whole garden sphere shivered and groaned. The city was in distress. Beams creaked.

“Is it the Dron?”

The screech of metal filled the air, and then a boom. Fire spurted down the hall barely visible beyond the platforms. The glass of the Primus garden sphere was cloudy with smoke. I doubled over, coughing.