Vampire in Atlantis

Chapter 28

High Princess Riley, surrounded by the three women she trusted as much as she did her own sister, stared down into the crystal stasis pod, at the dark-haired woman sleeping serenely inside. The story of Sleeping Beauty come to life, right here in front of her. Of course, she was standing in a temple, under a dome, underneath the ocean, in Atlantis, so everyday reality had taken a left turn quite some time ago.

“It’s not your fault,” Erin said, putting a hand on Riley’s arm. “You tried to set them free. Everybody has been working on it.”

“Maybe. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough,” Riley said. “Maybe I didn’t really want to meet Serai, the woman my husband was supposed to marry. Hard to measure up to a princess with ancient magic and, oh, yeah, who happens to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, if I were a guy, I’d do her,” Keely said.

Riley jerked her head up to stare at the archaeologist in disbelief, only to see that she was grinning.

“Sorry, Riley, but somebody needed to lighten the mood,” Keely said, unrepentant. “You aren’t doing anybody any good feeling sorry for yourself.”

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Lord Justice. You are losing your sense of tact,” Marie, the head of the temple devoted to childbirth, said gently. Marie, the only native Atlantean of the four of them, was a classical beauty like Serai, and wore her dark hair up in its usual intricate braid. “Shouldn’t you be with him, after he was caught in that spell?”

“He’s fine. Just sleeping off the after-effects and bad mood. Speaking of men, though, how’s your kitty cat doing?” Keely replied. “Still smoking hot?”

Marie’s mouth fell open, and Erin laughed out loud. Marie was very much in love with the alpha of a panther pride in the southeast United States. Unfortunately, their respective duties didn’t allow them very much time together. Riley hoped they could work something out soon. Marie too often looked tired and sad these days.

“Perhaps we could remember why we’re here,” Riley admonished them. “One of us can surely figure out something. Erin, with your magic and Marie’s healing, isn’t there something—”

“We have tried, Princess,” Marie said. “You know that.”

“Tried and tried, and tried some more,” Erin added. “My gem-singing magic is growing stronger every day, but the Emperor doesn’t respond to it, the maidens don’t respond to it—it’s useless. I’m useless.”

Marie chided her. “You are far from useless. Just this morning you saved that woman’s baby, and we’d thought he was far too sick to live.”

Erin shrugged. “Sometimes I get lucky. So much of this is a wish and a prayer, after all.”

“We’ve all been praying for them,” Riley said. “The maidens. Why do we call them that? They have names. Serai is gone. Delia is dead. Merlina, Helena, Brandacea, and Guen remain. We have to save them. We have to.”

Keely touched the crystal over Brandacea’s face. “She looks worse,” she said grimly. “I don’t know how much longer they can take this.”

Horace approached them and bowed to Riley. “Princess, I wondered if you will be here for very long. My attendants haven’t had any rest or food in quite a while, and—”

“Of course, please send them out. You, too, Horace. And call me Riley, please.”

“Thank you, Princess,” Horace said, bowing again. “I’ll remain here. I’ve eaten and am rested enough.”

She studied his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes. “I doubt it, but I understand. I don’t want to leave them, either.”

“I wondered—” He broke off and bowed again. It seemed to be a nervous habit.

“Wondered what?” Keely said. “If you have an idea, now would be a great time to quit bowing and tell us.”

Horace shot her an unhappy look before turning toward Riley. “I would like to try to release one of them. We are accomplishing nothing by trying to shore up the Emperor’s fluctuating magic. Serai clearly survived leaving stasis. What if—”

“What if we could save them by taking them out of the pods? Let’s do it,” Erin said. Her eyes lit up as she surveyed the four remaining women in their crystal pods. “We have to at least try with one, Riley.”

It didn’t take Riley long to decide, since she’d been thinking along exactly those lines for a couple of days by then.

“Yes. Yes, let’s do it. Who is having the hardest time now?”

Horace turned pale, as he realized that she’d agreed to his idea. “I don’t—I shouldn’t—”

Keely put her hands on her hips. “Spit it out, Horace. Which one is closest to being lost if we don’t rescue her now?”

He gulped and then pointed to Brandacea. “She is so weak; her life force is barely flickering now.”

Erin nodded. “It’s true. I can feel it, too. If we’re going to do this, we should try with her first. She’s in the most danger if we do nothing.”

“Should we call the high prince?” Horace asked. “This decision is—”

“The decision is mine,” Riley said firmly. “Conlan is finally catching a nap after being out all night searching for the Emperor and spending all morning setting up his plans for going back with a contingent of warriors to find Serai, Daniel, and the Emperor.”

“What do we do?” Marie asked.

“It’s deceptively simple, actually,” Horace said. “We just open the lid.”

Riley and Erin exchanged a glance. “Why haven’t we tried it before, then?”

“We have, Princess. Within minutes, the maiden—it was Delia—was choking for air, almost as if she had lost the ability to breathe. We had to return her to the pod, or she would have died, I’m almost sure of it. She almost did, anyway, but a surge of magic from the Emperor restored her.”

“What makes you think now will be different?” Keely shook her head. “We don’t even have Alaric here to help, and nobody is a better healer than he is.”

“No, but Marie and I together come pretty close,” Erin said. “What choice do we have? We try again to release them, or they die anyway, at least Brandacea will. Look at her. She’s barely holding on, as it is. Does she have another night, while Conlan and Ven try again to find the Emperor?”

“In addition to that, she may not have time to wait while we figure out how to use the Emperor, even if they can find it immediately,” Riley said.

She looked around at each of them in turn: Erin, Marie, Keely, and Horace. “We can do this. It would be criminal not to even try.”

“And if we’re wrong?” Marie’s face was pale. “I am no stranger to death, Riley, but if we do this, and we fail, we will have brought this woman’s death upon her.”

“Or we can stand here and do nothing, and kill her just as quickly,” Erin said. “I know this isn’t a democracy, but I vote we try.”

“Me, too,” Keely said. “I don’t want to live with the regret of having stood by and done nothing.”

“I am with you, as well, Princess,” Horace said.

Riley looked at Marie. “It’s up to you, which is fitting, since she’s your ancestor. I’ll make the final decision—the burden will be on me—but I won’t consider it unless we’re unanimous.”

Marie looked down at Brandacea for a long time, and then she finally nodded. “I can feel her growing weaker every minute. I agree that she will not last the night unless some solution is found. I vote yes, as well.”

Riley clasped Marie’s hand in one of hers and Erin’s in the other, and Erin took Keely’s hand, and Keely took Horace’s hand. They stood there together, in silence, each of them occupied with his or her own thoughts or prayers, and then Riley looked up.

“Let’s do this, and please, God, let us be right.”

Horace placed both of his hands, palms down, on the cover of the pod, and he chanted quietly, in what Riley recognized by its cadence must be ancient Atlantean. A shimmering silver light appeared and surrounded the pod and its occupant, until Brandacea’s still form glowed as if lit from within.

“Now,” Horace said, and four of them lifted the crystal cover from the pod, carried it to the side of the room, and propped it up against the wall while Marie kept watch over Brandacea.

“It’s so light,” Keely said. “It doesn’t seem like the door to a prison should weigh so little.”

Horace bristled. “It was never meant to be a prison. They agreed to do this, for the good of Atlantis.”

“Seems like somebody should have been more worried about the good of these women,” Erin said.

Riley put a hand on Horace’s arm. “It’s all right. Nobody blames you, Horace. We’re just upset and frustrated and more than a little bit scared.”

He nodded. “I know, Princess. So am I.”

Marie called out, “She looks strange.”

Erin pulled a handful of precious gems from a pouch she’d carried tucked into her belt. “Is it okay if I put these in there with her?”

Horace started to answer but stopped and shrugged helplessly. “Honestly, I don’t know. Will the resonance of your gems or your singing interfere with the Emperor’s magic or will it help? We’ve never tried this before, so I have no idea.”

“You have to try, Erin,” Marie said urgently. “She’s starting to hyperventilate.”

Erin quickly placed the gemstones around Brandacea on the silken pallet, humming as she did so. As soon as she’d arranged the gems to her satisfaction, she began to sing a song of healing and hope. Marie took Brandacea’s hands in her own and added her own song. She was no gem singer, but she had vast powers of healing, and Riley hoped Brandacea would respond to the combination of both types of healing magic.

The song filled the chamber, and Horace added his own counterpoint through his chanting, but Riley could see no difference in Brandacea. If anything, her breathing became more labored.

“It’s not working,” Keely said, grabbing Riley’s wrist. “We’re making her worse.”

“Give it time,” Riley said. “They just got started. I’ve seen Erin and Marie at work with women in childbirth; I’ve seen how they helped me. We have to give them a chance.”

“I’m not sure we have time to give them,” Keely whispered. She pointed to Brandacea, who suddenly arched up in the pod, her eyes still closed, gasping for breath.

“It’s not working, Riley,” Erin said, clutching the side of the pod. “We’ve got to put the lid back on and get her back into stasis.”

Marie cried out. “Now. We’re losing her. Put the lid back on, now, now, now!”

Horace shook his head, tears running freely down his face. “The Emperor isn’t helping. Without it, nothing we do will matter. Once the stasis is broken, we can’t restore it without the Emperor’s magic. We tried before, you understand.”

“What about good old CPR?” Keely said. “I’m not as ready as all of you to give up just because the mumbo jumbo doesn’t work. Move.”

She shouldered them out of the way, bent over the pod, and prepared to administer CPR to Brandacea. “Riley, get over here and be ready to do mouth-to-mouth if she quits breathing.”

Brandacea made a horrible groaning noise, arching up again, and then she collapsed back down and the light covering her body vanished. Her face, without the glow of light, was a deadly pale bluish-gray, as if she were a corpse that had died days before.

Riley flinched back for an instant at the sight, before she put the whimsical notion out of her mind and began artificial respiration while Keely began the rhythmic push and release of CPR. Long minutes went by, Riley didn’t know how long, until finally she heard Erin shouting at her.

“Riley! Riley, stop. It’s been way too long. There’s no hope. Riley, you have to stop now.”

Riley lifted her head to see that everyone was staring at her. Keely had stopped CPR and every one of them, even Horace, was crying. Numbly, she looked down at Brandacea, only to see that the maiden’s eyes were fixed and open, staring at nothing for eternity.

Riley shook her head, back and forth, as if denial would make reality change to suit her. “No. No, no, no. She can’t be dead, not because of me. No.”

Erin took her arm and tried to pull her away from the pod, but Riley violently shook her off. “No! We have to try again. Try something else. Erin, more diamonds or emeralds or something. Sing louder. Keely, start CPR again. She’s not gone, she’s—”

“She’s gone, mi amara,” Conlan said from behind her, and suddenly her husband’s strong arms wrapped around her, as he tried to pull her away from Brandacea.

Riley fought him with every ounce of her strength. “No! Leave me alone. I can do this, it’s my fault, I said to open the lid, take her out of storage. We had to try, but it’s my fault. I have to fix it. I have to save her. I have to—”

“You cannot, my love. Some things cannot be fixed.” Conlan’s face was grim; a forbidding study in grief and despair. The lines around his eyes had deepened, almost overnight, and Riley had a moment of clarity in her own grief as she realized that the job of high prince was killing him. “She’s gone. All we can do now is find the Emperor and save the others.”

Riley wanted to lean on him and cry, but she forced herself to stand on her own. She had done this. It was her responsibility. Her failure.

“We need to help her. Give her a proper burial,” she said, and her voice only wobbled a little. Only a little.

“No, Princess,” Horace said gently. “As you see.”

She glanced down at the crystal pod, only to see that Brandacea was gone. Vanished completely, as though she’d never been there.

“Without the magic to sustain her, the weight of thousands of years settled on her all at once,” Horace said. “She is gone, returned to dust as she would be if she had lived and died so long ago.”

Riley walked over to the stasis pod next to Brandacea’s and stared down at the golden-haired woman inside. Merlina.

“We won’t fail you, Merlina,” she promised. “Or Guen or Helena, either. No matter what it takes.”

Conlan took her hand. “I swear to you that we will do everything we can.”

“I know, because I’ll be there with you,” Riley said.

Conlan shook his head, but Riley held up a hand to forestall any protest. “Ven said he couldn’t find Serai’s trail. I’m an empath—aknasha—so I can maybe find her emotions even if nothing you can do works. We have to find her and the Emperor, Conlan, and I’m going to help.”

A muscle in Conlan’s jaw jumped as he clenched it, but he finally nodded. “You may be right. Let’s go through now and see if we can pick up her trail, and then I’ll return for Ven and the warriors.”

He called to the portal and then turned to the rest of the women and Horace. “Please don’t take this as your personal failure, Marie, Erin, Keely, Horace. Something had to be done, and you four were very courageous to even try.”

“Kind words, Conlan, but meaningless to Brandacea,” Marie said, her tearstained face pale and grave. “We all bear responsibility for these deaths.”

Erin and Keely nodded, and Riley wanted to scream. “It doesn’t matter whose responsibility it was right now, does it? All that matters is that we stop this before anybody else dies. Let’s go. Call the portal, Conlan.”

He turned to her, his brows drawing together. “I called the portal. It should be right—”

They both looked where he was pointing, at the empty space where the portal’s oval shimmer should have been forming.

“There,” he continued slowly. “No. Not again. Not now.”

He called again, louder. “Portal, heed my call. Answer to the need of the high prince of Atlantis.”

The silvery shimmer began to form, and Riley sighed in relief.

A female voice called out from the middle of the ovoid sphere. “Prince, indeed, and yet so ignorant of your heritage, Conlan of Atlantis. Know you not that I heed no call unless I deem it worthy?”

“So my relief was premature,” Riley said, putting her hands on her hips. “Could we possibly have one single day without something going wrong? Look, portal, women are dying. You pick now to do this? Also, I’m arguing with a glorified elevator?”

She could hear the way her voice was rising in nearhysteria, but she didn’t seem able to control it. She’d just caused a woman’s death, and the damn doorway was going to argue with her?

“I have no desire to cause you distress, Princess of Atlantis, but you do not understand our ways,” the portal said. Instead of the oval shape it had always taken before, the light shimmered into the shape of a slender woman, not much taller than Riley. “I was created by the gods themselves to serve as test of whether or not a chosen one was worthy of the task set for him or her. Poseidon bent me to his will when Atlantis sank beneath the sea, and I have long since grown bitter and yet resigned to my role as portal . . . or ‘glorified elevator,’ as you so succinctly named me.”

Riley did something she never would have imagined herself doing. Ever. She apologized to the doorway.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—We’re very upset, after Brandacea’s death—”

“Do not apologize to me, nor will I apologize or give quarter to you,” the portal, or woman, or demon from hell, continued.

Riley shot a glance at Erin, to see if the witch had any ideas, but Erin shrugged helplessly.

“My magic can’t touch this, Riley. I’m sorry,” Erin whispered.

“Wise that you do not try, human witch,” the portal said, pointing at Erin. “I enjoy your presence here and would regret destroying you, I think, although regret, like so many emotions, is only a faded echo of what it once was.”

Conlan stepped forward, between the portal and Riley, and bowed deeply. “You honor us with your presence and shame us with our lack of knowledge of your existence and purpose, my lady.”

The portal actually laughed. Sharp, silvery laughter, like the sound of glass bells, pealed out and Riley shuddered as if a shadow had crossed her grave.

“Such pretty words to go with such a pretty face, Conlan of Atlantis, but you shall not charm me. I will not let you pass until the test set for Serai of Atlantis has been passed or lost.”

Riley pushed past Conlan. “Lives depend on finding the Emperor, and whoever you are, however old you are, surely you can’t condemn those women to death on a whim?”

The portal’s light wavered, and the figure bowed its head.

“Their death is no more my responsibility than yours. The task is set for Serai. She will pass it or not. Just as Alaric of Atlantis will pass or fail his test, and Jack of the nearly lost tiger tribe will face his challenge. The time of the final crisis is near, Conlan of Atlantis, and the gods would have me determine if those who support you in your quest to bring Atlantis to the surface are worthy.”

“What? What about Jack? Did you see my sister?” Riley wondered if asking questions of an ancient being made up of light and bad temper was particularly intelligent, but she was past caring.

“Good-bye for now, lords and ladies of Atlantis. I must follow another path, for the tiger has lost one part of his soul and I have found it in my keeping. I will leave you with the magic of the portal while I am away, but it will not come to your call until Serai has accomplished her quest.”

“Stop! You can’t just leave like that. We need—”

But the portal didn’t care what Riley needed, or what any of them needed, because one moment the woman made of light was blathering on with her cryptic BS about the tiger’s soul, and the next moment she was gone. She was gone. The shimmering light flicked off like a cheap lightbulb.

Conlan called and called, in every way possible, for the next half hour, until he was hoarse with shouting, commanding, and finally pleading, but it made no difference. The portal didn’t return.

Serai and Daniel were on their own.