Authors: Alyssa Day

Atlantis Rising (32 page)

BOOK: Atlantis Rising

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His remorse was painfully evident, and she tried to smile reassuringly. “No worries. I’m just tired.”

Conlan leaned over and smacked his brother upside the head, then sat down beside Riley and put an arm around her shoulder. She could feel his concern, but she didn’t have the energy to reassure him, too.

Just as they were finishing their breakfast, the energy in the room changed abruptly, almost as if a frigid wind iced through the kitchen. Riley looked up, hands clenching into fists, ready to defend.

To attack.

Even as a tiny part of her wondered what she was turning into.

It was Alaric, spreading the
warmth
of his personality in front of him.

“We need to talk,” he said, gaze arrowing in on Riley.

“Hello to you, too. Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking,” she returned, heavy on the sarcasm.

Jerk.

He inclined his head, a tacit acknowledgment of her point. “How are you, Riley? More to the point, how is your shoulder?”

“You knew about that? What is it?”

Conlan stirred in his chair. “Perhaps we should discuss this more privately.”

Ven shoved his chair back, stood up. “Yeah, well, it sounds like something I need to know about, too. Christophe, you’re on KP duty since Bastien cooked.”

Christophe groaned. “Man, somehow I always get sucked into—” He looked up, met Riley’s gaze, subsided. “Yeah. I got it.”

As Alaric led the way out of the room, Bastien put out a hand to lightly touch Riley’s arm. “We’ve got your back, okay? Don’t stress about any of this stuff. We’ll take care of you.”

She opened her shields and sent a wave of warmth and gratitude to him. Watched his eyes widen as he received it.

“Wow. You really—hey, this
aknasha
stuff is pretty cool,” he said, grinning. “And you’re welcome, but no thanks were necessary.”

“Good manners are the last bastion of a civilized society,” she murmured.

“What?”

“Oh, something my mother used to say a long time ago. Your name reminded me of it. Thank you for the wonderful breakfast, too.”

Conlan called out to her from the hallway, and she sighed. Squared her shoulders. “On my way.”

Chapter 32

Conlan watched Alaric pace the large room—some kind of a den, all leather and wood—and the repetitive motion pissed him off. “Cut it out. Just let us have the bad news, already. Trying to be diplomatic is wasting our time, and it’s not your style, anyway.”

Alaric’s eyes flashed bright green briefly, but at least he stopped the damn pacing. “I have facts, and I have speculation. I’m going to give you both, and identify which is which. Then we must decide how to proceed.”

Riley spoke up, her voice small and quiet. “This is about me, I’m guessing?”

Alaric said nothing. He didn’t have to. The look on his face said it all.

She tried to smile, tightened her grip on Conlan’s hand. “Okay, fire away. And I meant that figuratively, in case you were wondering.”

“First, the facts. You offered yourself to Poseidon for Denal and Brennan. He chose to let you live. However, he branded you with the mark of the Trident that only priests bear.” Alaric ticked off items on his fingers as he spoke.

“Second—”

“What do you mean, that only priests bear?” Riley interrupted. “I don’t even really believe in him. I mean, clearly I believe he exists, after what happened, and I know he has some pretty amazing powers, but I’m strictly a ‘Jesus loves me’ kind of girl. I can’t be his priest! Or priestess, or whatever.”

Conlan felt her rising panic, sent calm and reassurance to her. “Let Alaric explain. I don’t think he really meant priest in the literal sense. Poseidon doesn’t have priestesses.”

“You mean, he doesn’t have priestesses
now
. Thousands of years ago, the high priest was just as likely to be a high priestess,” Alaric said.

“What? But I’ve never heard that.”

“There are certain things the temple has kept to ourselves over the past few millennia. Like the existence of
aknasha’an
among the ones chosen to leave Atlantis at the time of the Cataclysm.” Alaric started pacing again, as if his body couldn’t remain still.

“Hello? Still not a priest or a priestess or
whatever
, here,” Riley said, curling her legs under her on the couch. “Plus, aren’t priests supposed to be celibate?”

She laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “I mean, oh. Um, well, never mind.”

Alaric stared at her, eyes icy green. “Yes, there is a vow of celibacy. Another fact we may wish to discuss.”

“Are you kidding? No sex for hundreds of years? That sucks!” She blinked. “No offense, but no wonder you’re in such a crappy mood all the time, Alaric. I may have to rethink my entire viewpoint on you.”

In spite of the deadly nature of the conversation, Conlan had to stifle a grin. She was the most spontaneous person he’d ever known. Whatever she thought . . .

“Comes right out of my mouth, I know,” she said, rolling her eyes at Conlan. “Quit thinking so loudly. I’m sorry, Alaric. That was thoughtless and tactless of me. I think the idea of an unplanned priesthood caught me off guard.”

The temperature in the room warmed a couple of degrees as Alaric’s normally impervious expression thawed a fraction. “Believe me, I understand. But Poseidon has marked you with the sign of the ordained priest or, in your case, priestess. I must consult with the ancient temple scrolls to determine what this might mean.”

Conlan shoved a hand through his hair. “Can’t you ask Poseidon? I mean, you are his high priest.”

“The high priest who let the Trident slip through his grasp yet again,” Alaric said flatly. “I don’t get a response when I try to speak to the sea god these days. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“But—”

“It’s worse than even that,” Alaric interrupted. “The portal does not respond to my call. I attempted to return to Atlantis during the night to consult the scrolls, and the magic of the portal refused my summons. I fear we may be stranded up here until the matter of the Trident is resolved.”

Ven finally spoke up from where he leaned against the far wall near the unused fireplace. “We’ve all tried. No dice. Which means we can’t call for help, either,” he said. “But let’s go back a ways. You said there are more of these
aknashas
in our history? Who were Atlantean?”

“Yes. Several of the
aknasha’an
were among those of our people chosen to scatter to the high grounds of the earth at the time of the Cataclysm. Empaths were much more common then. Still maybe only one in one hundred babies were born with the gift, but since Riley and—” The pause was barely perceptible. “Riley and her
sister
are the first we have encountered in thousands of years, you can see how the numbers diminished.”

“And what function did we . . . did
they
serve?” Riley asked.

“They were among the most valued of the royal counselors, naturally, given the nature of their talents. They were essential to trade negotiations and the like. Also, they would often choose to serve Poseidon in his Temple and were very popular in the priesthood.”

“I can see how the ability to sense emotion would make someone pretty awesome in the confessional,” Ven said. “You did what?
Buzz!
Wrong answer! You really did something much worse!”

“Shut up, Ven. You’re not helping,” Conlan snapped.

“Back off. I’m trying to lighten up the mood. You’re both scaring Riley to death,” Ven growled.

They all turned to look at Riley, who lifted her chin. “Hey, I’m the one who used an axe against a vampire last night, remember? Talking about the old days doesn’t really compare with having brains on my legs.” She shuddered. “So don’t worry about scaring poor little Riley.”

“Back to the point, here is my speculation,” Alaric said. “I believe that Riley and Quinn are descendants of those ancient Atlanteans and have our DNA in their blood. Furthermore, I believe that they manifest these ancient gifts in fulfillment of one of the most secret prophecies in the Temple scrolls.”

He drew a deep breath. “I believe that they herald the time when Atlantis must intermarry with the humans to bring a new and better generation to the world.”

Ven whistled. “That’s blasphemy, dude.”

Alaric nodded. “Not only that, but it is in direct contradiction to the teaching of the Council that any person of royal lineage who violates the royal marriage strictures will bring a second Cataclysm upon Atlantis.”

“What?” Riley could only follow the formal speak for so long before her tired and scared brain cells glazed over.

“No stud farm, end of Atlantis,” Ven put in tersely.

“Not just Atlantis. End of the whole damn
world
, is what I’ve had drummed into my head for my entire life,” Conlan said slowly.

“How do we know which it is?” Riley asked. “I mean, not to jump the gun here, Conlan, since we’ve known each other for less than a week, but I’d rather go with the intermarry thing than option B: cause the world to end.”

Conlan felt her trepidation and admired her courage all the more for it. By the gods, she was beautiful. And brave.

And she loved him.

The wonder of it nearly brought him to his knees.

He put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. “In case you didn’t hear me the dozen or so times I said it last night, I love you. We’ll figure this out.”

She hugged him back, but he felt her trembling. “How do we figure this out?” she repeated.

“That’s the problem. We can’t get back to Atlantis, and Poseidon isn’t answering his phone,” Ven said, face grim.

Alaric and Riley spoke at the same time. “The Trident.”

Then they stared at each other, eyes widening.

“Tell me,” Alaric demanded.

“I don’t know. Just a feeling I had when he was talking to me last night. He was so arrogant—all ‘you do not bargain with a god.’ I get the feeling that he can be capricious—”

“You have no idea,” Alaric replied.

“Yeah. So maybe this whole thing has been about ‘the best man wins.’ You know? If Conlan and you get the Trident, you deserve to win the throne, Atlantis, the free stay at a beach resort of your choice, whatever.”

Alaric nodded. “That has a decidedly correct feel to it. The gods are ever changeable, and Poseidon has often demonstrated his admiration for the champion in any challenge.”

Conlan tightened his arms around Riley. “So. We recover the Trident, or Atlantis may be lost to us forever?”

Ven laughed, but he didn’t sound the least bit amused. “Damn gods and their games. Well, that’s a sound enough theory to get us going on, then. Now all we have to do is find the Trident. Alaric?”

Alaric closed his eyes, held out his arms to channel power. Several moments passed, then he shook his head. “Nothing. But I felt it only in flashes the other day. I will continue to try.”

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Christophe rounded the corner, holding something out in his head. “Sorry to interrupt, but Riley’s cell phone kept ringing.”

He held it out to her. “It’s your sister, and she says there’s trouble.”

Nobody but Conlan noticed Alaric flinch.

Chapter 33

Riley snapped her phone closed, noting that the batteries were going to die any minute if she didn’t charge it. “You didn’t happen to bring my tote bag with us from the other house, did you? My purse and cell charger were in it.”

The four men in the room looked at her like she’d just asked them to go shoe shopping.

She narrowed her eyes. “This is important, okay? Quinn’s only way to contact us is my phone, since you don’t exactly carry phones around in your water particle state.”

“Your bag is in the front hallway on a table,” Ven said. “Now maybe you could fill us in on the other half of that phone call.”

“Bear with me, because this is kind of crazy. But Quinn says that Senator Barnes is really an ancient vampire named Barrabas, and that he’s the same Barrabas—”

“Freed by Pontius Pilate instead of Jesus Christ. Yeah. We know,” Conlan said.

She blinked. “Are you kidding me? You knew this? You might have mentioned it sometime. ‘Oh, hey, earthlings, your new
Senate leader
is one of the
worst criminals in history
,’ for example.” She heard the anger and sarcasm in her voice, but didn’t care.

“Really? As if a people who allowed
bloodsuckers
to take over their government were going to listen to us about Barnes?” Ven snapped, his anger matching hers.

“Focus, people. This doesn’t help now. What did Quinn want?” Conlan asked.

“She found your people. Well, Reisen and his people. She says she had a meeting with a high-level vamp who is working with the revolution undercover. Somebody named Daniel. He is going to help her get them out tonight.”

Alaric stepped forward, eyes gone savage and glowing a fiery green. “Help her? Help
Quinn
? Is she insane? She’s going to storm the fucking Primus?”

“Daniel says Barrabas has the Trident. Plans to torture the Atlanteans until he figures out how to use it. So my
insane sister
is helping to save your
ass
, priest.” Riley didn’t understand what board Alaric had up his butt about Quinn, but she wasn’t going to put up with it.

Quinn might not be as fragile as Riley’d thought, but it was still Riley’s job to protect her. She thought of Bastien and smiled grimly.
I’ve got your back, Quinn
.

Conlan stepped forward and effortlessly took command of the room. Whatever X factor it was that made a man into a king, Conlan had it in a big way.

Her insecurities mocked her.
So what makes you think you’re fit to marry a king?

I love him. That’s all. That’s enough.

“An hour max to get loaded up. We’re on our way to D.C.,” Conlan ordered. “Riley, you—”

BOOK: Atlantis Rising

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