“Threatened? What could possibly threaten them?”
“Humans. In my lifetime, I’ve seen their numbers dwindle from hundreds of thousands to ...” He shook his head. “Barely enough to keep the species alive. Your people have no idea what they’ve done, how much wisdom they’ve slaughtered. Blue whales have so much to teach us.” He choked up. “Wait here, while I go and see if any will talk to me.”
She blinked. “You ... you can talk to them? You’re kidding me, right?” She wasn’t certain that she’d heard him correctly. She felt giddy, as though she’d had too much to drink. Not sick, but weary ... so weary.
“It’s a gift I was born with. Not whales alone, but other species who share our oceans.” He hugged her, kissed her cheek, and released her. “Be strong a little longer,” he urged.
She drew in a long breath. “I’m trying.”
If she’d had some idea that she would hear or understand what Alex said to whales, she was disappointed. The prickling sensations moved up her arms and legs, and her head began to pound, as the great animals moved around and over and under her. She drank in the sight, marveling at their beauty and majesty. She’d seen whales before, but from above, one seemed much like another.
Here, she was acutely aware of individuals with different personalities and degrees of intelligence, and she wondered how men who could go to the moon in search of knowledge could fail to value how much was here, alive and thinking, sharing their planet.
She began to shiver. Losing the ability to control her temperature wasn’t new, but the sensation that the water around her was crushing her was. Alex had warned her that she might begin to feel the effects of pressure. Her thoughts flickered, skipping wildly, and she began to laugh.
Was this what divers felt when they went too deep?
She needed Alex. Fear crept around the corners of her thoughts, raised the scales at the back of her neck, and made her shiver even more. “Alex!” she called. She drew her knees up and clutched her middle. She was sinking. She knew she should swim, but it seemed to take too much effort. She could still see Alex, but he was getting farther and farther away. She closed her eyes, just for a second, and waves of blackness washed over her.
Suddenly, his arms were around her. “Ree. Ree. Listen to me. You have to stay awake.”
“I’m sleepy.” She sighed, dropping her head onto his shoulder. “I’m cold, and I’m sleepy, and ...”
He kissed her mouth. No, not a kiss; he was breathing into her mouth, sharing his life force with her. “I love you,” she murmured sleepily. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” he said. “I love you more than life.”
Ree opened her eyes to see a whale looming over them, the great jaws opening, and she felt the first twinges of fear. “No,” she said.
“Yes,” Alex said soothingly. “Don’t be afraid. This is Oysmulgmi. She’s near her time to deliver her baby, but she has a heart as large as the ocean. She’s agreed to carry us around the Horn and as far as she can before she calves.”
“Carry us?” The whale’s back was a mountain. “How could we hold on? The current would ...”
Oysmulgmi opened her mouth wider.
“It’s all right,” Alex said.
“We’re going to travel in the belly of a whale?”
He laughed. “Not quite. Her mouth is large, but her throat is far too small. You have a wonderful imagination, Ree.”
“Then how ...”
“You’ll see,” he promised. “Trust me.”
CHAPTER 28
C
addoc’s heart hammered in his chest. He’d almost given up hope that ’Enakai would summon him to her apartments again, and if she didn’t send for him, how would he ever carry out his plan?
But she wanted him, couldn’t bear to be without him. She’d sent serving women to rub him with precious oil, to dress him in new garments, and to curl his hair. They’d come with platters of oysters and other shellfish reputed to add to a man’s vigor and prolong his sexual strength.
“The queen asks that you come to her,” the effete messenger said. “She longs for your touch and cannot wait for you to share pleasures of the flesh. May I tell her that you are willing?”
Willing?
He would have waded the fiery river of lava to reach her. “Tell her majesty that I long for the sound of her voice,” Caddoc scribbled on a message block. “Tell her that I swear that this will be a night unlike any she has ever experienced.”
He was ready early, waiting for his escort and praying to every god that he had ever heard named or cursed that ’Enakai would not change her mind. His palms sweated, his bowels betrayed him so that he was forced to run three times to the bodily easement room. His stomach twisted and knotted, regurgitating the shellfish and the bottle of wine that he had consumed to steady his nerves.
He had expected to be led to the queen’s chambers, but this time, she’d sent a chair and an escort of royal guard. So much the better. The more witnesses, the greater would be his triumph. One thing troubled him. Should he end her life before he shared pleasures or after? They would undoubtedly be the last chance either of them had to experience the rapture in this life, and he hated to think that his best performance was already behind him. If he swived her first, he would please himself, but that meant satisfying ’Enakai’s lust as well. Why should he do anything for her when she had destroyed his life?
If she’d supported him, given him the army he’d asked for, this all would have ended so differently. He would have been crowned high king of Atlantis. She would have the comfort of knowing that her former guest was now a mighty ruler in his own right. But ’Enakai had been shortsighted and foolish, worse than foolish, too stupid to see her own advantage. The lack of a few thousand—even hundred—hardened Lemorian soldiers had brought his plans to naught.
Caddoc slipped his hand under his tunic to make certain that he could reach the dagger he’d strapped to his thigh. It was extremely sharp, obsidian, the blade so thin that he could have shaved with it—if he’d been human. Such a blade was delicate, but it sliced through scales and skin and flesh with the ease of a shark’s tooth cutting through a man’s belly.
His empty eye sockets burned, still irritated by the salt water. They should have healed, but they remained tender, scarred holes. Until now, he had mourned his sight, but no longer. The lack of eyes kept others from looking into them and reading his intentions. He smiled. Likewise his missing tongue. He had no fear that he would say the wrong thing in anger or warn ’Enakai or any of her protectors. Having no powers of speech could be a blessing, too. He managed a deep, rolling chuckle.
He could imagine the splendor of the passageways, the curious onlookers, the whispered comments of the courtiers. “She calls for him,” one might say. “The Atlantean prince.”
And another might reply, “And why not? I hear he’s hung like a walrus.” The noblewomen and serving maids would twitter, but they too would long for him, would wish that just for one night, they could be the object of his desire.
He had pleasured many females in his lifetime ... and just as many males. He’d had his way with mermaids and naiads and uncounted humans. He hoped that the songs the bards would sing of him would do him justice.
Ah, the porters had stopped at the first guard post; there were three. None but the most trusted were ever admitted to the queen’s inner apartments, and today, he was ’Enakai’s most welcome guest. A short delay, an exchange of passwords, and the chair moved on. Caddoc leaned back, enjoying the ease of being carried. In his father’s palace, he’d never had the honor after he’d passed the age of traveling in his mother’s lap. She had favored the luxury of a chair, and hers had been much richer and heavier than the Lemorian style. It took six men to carry an Atlantean
klismos.
Thinking of his mother soured his mood. She was dead. She would never nag or threaten him again. Wherever her spirit had gone after the lava flow had claimed her body, he hoped it was far away. Whether she’d been whisked to the Lemorian version of Olympus or had dissolved into nothingness, he didn’t care—so long as he never had to look into her hateful face again.
When he was reborn, and he was certain he merited rebirth, if anyone did, he would study prospective parents more carefully. He would avoid choosing a mother with ambition, brains, or beauty, and above all, he would pick one without the slightest degree of psychic powers. He needed a plain woman whose hopes would be fulfilled by the birth of a son, a female who would never gainsay or belittle him. Naturally, she must be the first wife of a monarch and queen in her own right, so that he would have none of the troublesome annoyances of dealing with other claimants to his throne. Next time, he would be far wiser.
The porters climbed a staircase and stopped a second time. Here the exchange with the guards took a little longer. Caddoc didn’t care. He ran his finger over the knife blade and winced as he felt it slice through his skin. It was a pity that ’Enakai would die so quickly. If he lived long enough, he would bathe in her blood—dance in it. But no matter how brief a time he lived after the deed was done, he would have the satisfaction of hearing her screams of pain and the death rattle in her throat.
The chair was moving again. Not far now. Caddoc’s bowels growled and he passed gas. Luckily, his stomach was empty. He would not shame himself in his finest hour. Moment, he corrected himself. Ridding the Pacific of the bitch ’Enakai would take no more than seconds. So incensed would her royal guard be that they would fall on him and dispatch him instantly.
The final checkpoint seemed to take forever. At last, Caddoc heard the groan of the great stone double doors swing open and the hum of voices from ’Enakai’s suite. Musicians played a soft background for one of the queen’s tiresome poets as he recited his latest tribute to ’Enakai’s beauty or wisdom or piety. The chair rocked back and forth and settled onto the floor.
“Prince Caddoc,” the queen said. “You are welcome to our eyes.”
Eyes.
She was taunting him already, showing him up before her women and guards as being sightless. His pulse raced and sweat beaded on his palms. How dare she!
“Come, my prince,” ’Enakai called. “I have been waiting for you. I have much to tell you.”
A servant took his hand and helped him down from the chair. He reached out to keep from swimming into one of the double rows of columns. Someone stifled a giggle, and Caddoc saw red.
Where are you, majesty?
he wondered.
“Here, on the couch.”
He went to her, barely containing his trembling anger as she embraced him. “Darling,” she whispered into his ear. “I have a surprise for you.”
And I for you,
he thought. In one fluid movement, he drew the knife from the hidden sheath and raised it to plunge the point into ’Enakai’s throat. A woman cried out, and he put every ounce of strength into his thrust.
Something cold touched his upper arm, followed by a gush of hot liquid. Caddoc froze, stunned, unable to fathom what had just happened. He could no longer feel the knife in his hand. He couldn’t feel his hand or his arm.
’Enakai screamed, not in pain but in rage. “What are you waiting for?” she shrieked. “Off with his head!”
Caddoc grabbed for the knife with his left hand, grabbed and found nothing but water.
His right hand? Where was his right hand?
He heard the swish of a sword and for an instant, he felt the same icy touch on his neck that he’d felt against his arm. There was a sharp pain, and then he felt nothing at all.
Caddoc looked around, confused. His eyes worked perfectly. How was it possible that he’d been blind and now could see? Had he undergone surgery? Was he still drugged from the operation?
He had no memory of where he was or how he’d gotten here. It was an odd place, devoid of water. Hot sand grated under his feet, and a harsh wind lashed at his head and body. Above him stretched a pewter sky without a cloud. The sun blazed down, an unforgiving ball of fiery heat. He could feel his scales withering, his mouth drying out.
Outcroppings of rock littered a barren landscape that stretched to the horizon. Caddoc could see no sign of life, no plants, no fish, no habitation, nothing but sand and stone and emptiness. He opened his mouth and shouted. “Where am I? Is there anyone here?”
This was bad ... bad. No water, not a lake or bay, not even a pond in sight. So far, he was having no trouble breathing, but how long could he last on dry land? He yearned for the feel of salt water on his body, thirsted for it. “Someone!” he cried. Was it a nightmare? Would he wake and find himself safe in his own bed?
“Caddoc, my son.”
He whirled at the sound of the taunting voice to find his mother standing not an arm’s length away. It was Halimeda. There could be no doubt, but it wasn’t the hag that the Lemorians had thrown into the lava. This was the beautiful queen that he’d known for most of his life. Her face and body were flawless; her complexion as smooth and lovely as any goddess.
“Mother?” No. It couldn’t be. This had to be a nightmare. He dug his fingers into his arm and then stared down. Two arms. Two hands. He had eyes and a tongue once more. He blinked, hoping she would vanish, but when he opened his eyes, she was still there, garbed in a spotless white tunic, still looking at him in that way she had of letting him know that he’d disappointed her. Again.
“You failed me. Didn’t you?” she accused.
“No, I—”
“You couldn’t manage a simple revolution. All you had to do was eliminate your half-brothers.” Her features twisted. “You should be king of Atlantis, and what are you? What are you, Caddoc?”
His throat constricted and he felt the urge to urinate. “I’m sorry, Mother.”
“Sorry? Sorry? You’re sorry, all right, the sorriest excuse for a son that I’ve ever seen. You have the nerve to call yourself a prince?”
“I did my best.” He took a step back. The sand crumbled under his feet, and he stumbled and fell to his knees.
“Failure!”
“Don’t say that,” he pleaded.
“Stupid, cowardly, whining failure.” She advanced on him. From somewhere, she’d acquired a whip such as she’d used on him when he was a child. She brought the whip down hard across his face. “Pitiful excuse for a son!”
Caddoc covered his head with his hands and crouched down. “Where are we?” he cried. “What place is this?”
“Don’t you know?” she howled, standing over him and lashing him around the head and shoulders with the whip. “Are you so ignorant that you don’t know?”
“No, Mother. Please, don’t hit me anymore. Don’t hurt me. I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
“It’s too late for that,” she said. “Too late, you fool. This is Hades, and we’re trapped here.”
“Trapped? Here?” He stared up at her in disbelief. “For how long?”
“Not forever,” she hissed. “Not more than a few thousand years.”
“No.” He pressed his face into the sand and heaped handfuls of it over his head. “That can’t be,” he wailed. “It can’t be.”
“But there’s one good thing about it.”
“What’s that? What could possibly be good about it?”
“You’re not alone, Caddoc. You have me to share your misery.”
Ree lay with her head against Alex’s chest. His arms were around her, and she felt safe, despite their precarious position between Oysmulgmi’s jaws. The blue whale’s thick tongue made a comfortable cushion for them to recline upon, and the arched roof of her mouth rose over them like a strange arbor. Through Oysmulgmi’s open mouth Ree occasionally glimpsed the monstrous waves and heard the howling winds. No wonder she and Alex had been able to swim this passage, she thought as she snuggled next to him.
As frightening as the idea of letting a whale carry them in her jaws had been, Ree had to admit that it appeared to be working. And despite the rough water and bumpy ride, Ree felt better than she had in days. Oysmulgmi’s sleek body cut through the powerful currents and dove deep beneath the waves to find the calmest water. The storms and heavy seas had little effect on the whale’s progress, and her regular return to the surface to breathe gave Ree a chance to do the same.
“If she can get us near the colony, we can get you the medical help you need,” Alex said. “I don’t know if they have the crystals they need to complete your transformation, but they should be able to do enough for me to get you home to Atlantis.”
Best of all, she’d had time with Alex. They’d laughed together, and Alex had told her tales of his childhood. Never having had a family, hearing about his close ties with his twin, Orion, and with his brother Morgan and sister Morwena touched her and made her a little envious.
What would it be like to have siblings whom you could trust?
It was difficult for her to imagine.