“We have to go after the baby!” I shout.
A light bursts within the cavern below. The family reappears at the edge of the sinkhole. Another figure is with them. I shake my head in wonder. It’s Alden.
The family hugs Alden close. He doesn’t seem to know they exist. His gaze stays glued on me.
“What’s he doing here?” I ask.
“Nothing good,” says Tempest.
Alden cups his hand by his mouth. “I’m sorry, Portia. I really am here to help.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. If he truly wants to help us, Alden could make a big difference. I’m pretty sure I blew up a whole chunk of Heaven back there. I’m sure Alden knows how to sidestep that kind of trouble.
“We better go,” I say. Tempest arcs his wings and we change direction.
“Wait!” cries Alden. “I have information about your family!” calls Alden.
I turn so quickly, I almost fall off Tempest’s shoulders. “Tempest, wait.”
“Hold on, luv.” He moves us so we hover closer to Alden.
“Go on,” I say.
“Your family.” Alden’s face appears completely open and innocent. “I asked around. They went to stay at Maxon’s castle. It’s safe there.”
“Oh.” An awkward silence presses in around us. “Thank you.”
Alden jams his hands in pockets. “I’m here if you need me, okay?”
“Got it. Bye, Alden.”
Tempest flies away so quickly, you’d think we were in a race. I fight the urge to look back at Alden. I have a feeling he’s watching us go.
“Where to?” asks Tempest.
“Atlantis. You know much about it?”
“I’ve been there a few times. You?”
“I’ve studied their magic.” Atlantis is an odd colony at the sea’s bottom. It’s made up of human witches and wizards who lost their home to an ancient earthquake and then used magic to resettle at the bottom of the ocean. They’re hard to reach, so few people visit. “Can you fly us underwater?”
Tempest arches his wings. We shift direction. “On our way.”
I grip onto his neck more tightly.
Seedpod, here we come.
Chapter Thirteen
The sun shines in a turquoise-blue sky as Tempest flies us over the Pacific Ocean. Seagulls caw and dive through nearby clouds. I rest my cheek against Tempest’s neck and try to think of useful ways to pass the time… Without worrying myself into a frenzy over the after-realms.
Not sure I do a bang-up job.
As a child in Antrum, my brother and I would kill time in royal carriage rides by counting the number of house crests in the crowd. Today, I’m counting the number of dark whirlpools that appear in the ocean below. Each new and blackened swirl of water is the sign of a fresh sinkhole that’s just opened in the seabed below. Every time I see one, fresh adrenaline and worry charge through my system.
Another darkened circle appears on the waves. For a few seconds, the water stays black and deadly still. Then, it spirals downward into a shadowy vortex that reaches straight through the bottom of the sea. The roar of a waterfall fills the air. The gulls squawk with fear. I shiver.
Fourteen whirlpools so far. A knot of worry tightens my throat. The after-realms won’t last much longer.
“Atlantis is below us,” says Tempest. “I’m going to cast a breathing spell on myself while I find a safe spot to dive. You better cast one, too.”
“Got it.”
Instead of trying my typical word-based spell, I close my eyes and summon the liquid Firmament magic inside my soul. Now that I know how that energy feels, I can tap into it more easily. Within seconds, the incantation flows from my lips. I could shout for joy.
“Ready?” asks Tempest.
I hunker down against his scaled neck. “Let’s dive.”
Tempest angles his head toward the ocean and curls his great wings against his body. We start a speedy descent toward the sea. Wind howls in my ears and scrapes across my skin. The small whitecaps that I saw from the clouds become tall and angry waves.
“Hold on,” calls Tempest. “Here we go!”
With a great splash, Tempest and I break through the surface of the ocean. The water that envelops me is so cold it’s like a thousand needles pricking my skin. I grip Tempest’s back more tightly. The warmth of his dragon’s body radiates into my own. Tempest flicks his tail, speeding us toward the ocean floor. Water whooshes over my body. All sounds become muted in the heavy seawater. My lungs ache as they pull in chilly liquid instead of air.
Soon Tempest slows his furious pace. I lift my head slightly and get a look around. A tall wall of black volcanic rock looms before us, its surface pockmarked with tiny cave holes. Tempest swings his long neck from side to side, scoping out which entrance to take.
With a quick nod, Tempest darts forward into one of the larger entrances in the cliff side. We zigzag through the submerged passageways until we break through the surface in a snug cave.
Ah, back to breathing air again. You never realize how hard it is to pull water into your lungs until there’s a spell that makes you do just that.
The tiny cavern is lined with stalactites and stalagmites. The long structures jut out from the ceiling and floor, reminding me of massive teeth. Between the sharp rocks, the cave walls are covered in phosphorescent green algae. Everything is lit with a dim emerald glow. I slide off Tempest’s shoulders and onto the cave floor. With a burst of white light, he returns to his human form.
“Make the journey all right?” he asks.
“I’m fine. You?”
“All in a day’s work.” He scans the surrounding cave and frowns. “They should be here.”
“Who?”
“The welcoming committee.”
“You’ve been in Atlantis before, right?”
“It’s not what you call a holiday spot, but yes, I had some business here with the Electrophus tribe. They’re our water dwelling dragons.”
“Makes sense.” I take in another deep lungful of air. It feels so good to breathe normally again. “If I were a water dragon in trouble, I’d hide down here, too.”
Tempest chuckles. “That was the idea, until I found them, anyway.”
A perfect silence follows, the sound broken only by the eerie drop-drop of water from the stalactites onto the floor. An uneasy sensation creeps into my joints. I’ve lived half my life in underground caves in Antrum. You can’t so much as sniffle without someone hearing it halfway across our network of caverns. Stone echoes and amplifies everything. So why is Atlantis so silent?
“Humans live here,” I say. “Where are they?”
“I don’t know.” Tempest’s full mouth thins to a frown. “I don’t like it.”
With his left hand, Tempest gestures toward the exit tunnel. With his right, he sets his pointer finger over his lips in a ‘shh’ motion.
I nod, understanding what he wants. We’re heading into Atlantis proper and need to stay silent. My heart decides that now is the time to start beating fast as a snare drum and twice as loud.
Tempest’s tail arches over his shoulder, ready to strike. His shoulders square off. That’s a fighting stance. I do my best to get battle-ready as well. I pat the thigh holders of my fighting suit and pull out my dagger. I don’t really know what to do with this thing other than making a random stabbing motion, but my enemies won’t know that.
Together, Tempest and I steal down the narrow exit passageway. Green algae on the ceiling casts a freakish glow over the scene. After a just few yards, we make a gruesome discovery: human bodies lie strewn on the passage floor. The Atlanteans are small with extra-pale skin and huge pointed ears like a bat’s. They all wear Greek-style togas that are soaked with blood.
All of them are dead.
Great gashes have been torn through the bodies. Others have been partially smashed to a pulp against the cave walls. Every last one is marked with foul-smelling black ooze. My stomach churns with nausea.
The Void killed them. No question about it.
My body trembles with an overwhelming mixture of terror, rage, and grief. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but those demons will pay for this.
The dark corridor opens to a large underground cavern whose walls are covered in more glowing algae. Long strands of seaweed dangle from the cave’s ceiling. Across the floor, the space is filled with a warren of streets and small, one-story houses made from loosely packed blocks of stone. Everything is quiet.
Tempest and I step out of the cramped tunnel and into the tiny streets. The copper scent of blood grows stronger. More bodies are strewn everywhere. The cobblestones are sticky with blood and black ooze. I grip my dagger more tightly. The blade wobbles in my grasp. I force my breaths to slow against the onslaught of terror. I feel a thousand eyes staring at me from the shadows.
Focus, Portia. Remember the seedpod.
I scan the stone buildings around us. In the center of the city, the columns of a circular Greek temple rise above the rooftops. A jolt of excitement tightens my torso.
That’s a circular space. The Library floor was circular as well, and that’s where the first seedpod was stored. Tempest and I share a knowing look. We don’t need to say a word to know what we’re both thinking.
The seedpod is in that temple.
With renewed speed, Tempest and I navigate through the twisting streets. The snick of our footsteps echoes through the quiet. An anxiety headache constricts across my temples.
Tempest and I quickly reach our goal: a small round temple. A large circular stone sits on the temple floor. My breath catches.
That’s it. The seedpod.
All over the temple are signs that the Void ravaged this place. Black ooze drips everywhere: down the steps, along the columns, and especially on the round rock that sits at the temple’s center. Deep gashes are cut into the stone with what look like claws.
The Void rampaged this temple, tried to open the seedpod, and totally failed. My guess is they’re still nearby, waiting for me to open the seedpod for them. My skin breaks out in a thin sheen of nervous sweat.
Tempest looks to me and I meet his gaze. His eyes are filled with grim resolve. That same sense of determination solidifies in my soul, as well. I take care to lower my voice to a barely audible whisper. “I have to open that thing.”
Tempest nods. “The stairs are the only access point to the temple.” He keeps his voice quiet, too. “I’ll keep watch. You release the seedpod.”
It’s a solid plan. Even so, my body feels weighted down with dread. Last time, I barely touched the golden energy inside the seedpod, and I almost killed myself while taking down a huge chunk of Heaven. The only thing that stopped me was when Tempest and I combined our magic. I bite my thumbnail anxiously. I was really hoping that Tempest could stand beside me when I opened this seedpod. That way, things wouldn’t get out of control.
I scan the cramped stone city. The emerald light from the algae casts odd-shaped shadows onto the tiny streets. The dead bodies seem to stare at me plaintively, urging me to run while I still can.
But I won’t run. And my only chance to open that seedpod is for Tempest to guard the quickest route of access to the Temple. I inhale a shaky breath.
You can do this, Portia.
I steel my shoulders. “Let’s do this.”
“One minute,” whispers Tempest. “I need to get ready.”
I nod and sheathe my dagger into its holster. That won’t help me open the seedpod, anyway.
Tempest closes his eyes. Black scales appear on his skin in a wave that moves up from his throat and then rises across his face. When Tempest opens his eyes again, they’re bright red with reptilian slits for pupils. He inhales a deep breath. Firelight glows behind the dragon scales in his neck. He mouths one word:
Go.
I sprint up the temple steps, my boots slipping on the black goo that covers the ancient stone. As I close in on the seedpod, the cavern fills with a chorus of low, gurgling moans. A shiver of fear twists down my spine. No question who’s decided to make an appearance. The Void.
I pause before the round stone that’s set in the center of the temple floor. Bit by bit, I lower my hands, stopping when my palms hover a few inches above the surface of the rock. Closing my eyes, I call to the Firmament power inside the stone.
Please let me be able to open this thing without touching it.
No energy answers my call.
I squeeze my eyelids more tightly shut and focus on the Firmament power with every fiber of my being. I find nothing. Disappointment crushes in around my body. I was able to contact the Firmament energy so easily when I cast the breathing spell. It’s like the seedpod wants me to touch it. Craves me to become one with it and go out of control.
There’s no way around this. The seedpod needs my touch in order to open. I glance over at Tempest. He still stands at alert at the foot of the temple stairs. His gaze meets mine and his irises flare with red light. He nods at me once. I know what the gesture means.
Do this, Portia.
Little by little, I lower my hands until my palms touch the round stone. The surface is cool and slick. A torrent of power speeds up my arms and floods my body. Within seconds, the stone shatters under my palms, revealing the golden sphere beneath. I try to step away quickly. No way do I want to get caught touching that golden energy directly again.
Try as I might, I can’t move a muscle. Like a magnet, the glowing orb drags my palms deep into its gelatinous body. More Firmament power careens through me than ever before. Every cell in my body vibrates with energy. It’s like my body’s about to fly apart, bursting into a million pieces.
At that moment, hundreds of Void demons ooze out from the shadows in the darkened city. Even more appear within the dangling strands of seaweed that sway from the cavern’s ceiling. One steps out of the crowd, its eyeholes glowing with red fire.
The Scintillion.
More power moves through me. I struggle to step away, but it’s useless. Pain explodes inside my skull, making it hard for me to focus. Even so, I can make out the Scintillion in the eerie green light below. It steps forward.
Tempest tilts back his head, spouting an arc of fire toward the cavern ceiling. If he wants a show of power to make folks afraid, I can vouch that it worked on me. Once he’s done, he refocuses on the Scintillion. “Leave now and you’ll live,” he warns.