Another seraphim stretched across the seabed just east of the Falklands. If he could reach it, it would carry them north to Ascension in the middle of the South Atlantic. There was an Atlantean colony there with a small temple and healing priestesses. Home lay almost four thousand miles beyond that. There were other smaller seraphim in the South and North Atlantic, but if Ree’s energy wasn’t reinforced, he was afraid that she couldn’t take the pressure and power of the current inside the seraphim passageways.
Caring for Ree, finding food that she could eat, holding her while she slept, and standing watch over her when they were forced to take refuge on land had only intensified his feelings for her. She was utterly dependent on him for life, and the responsibility weighed heavy on his soul. He tried to think what he could have done differently, but each option led to a dead end.
If he hadn’t rescued Ree from Varenkov’s yacht, her death would have been certain. At first, he’d protected her out of a sense of duty, but gradually his feelings had changed. He’d come to love this beautiful human, so different from him. More than that, she’d become the center of his world.
And now, when he’d accepted that he wanted her with him always, wanted to take her home to his family and claim her as his wife, he might lose her forever. He had to think of some way to keep that from happening, and he had to do it soon.
Alex considered leaving the water and trying to cross Tierra Del Fuego on foot, but he knew that was folly. The terrain was too rugged; the winds were too fierce, and the distance too great for him to travel. He could breathe air for short periods, but not more than a day or two, and each time he climbed out of the sea, he grew weaker. “If only I did have the power to fly,” he muttered. “I’d fly with you in my arms and carry you home to the great city.”
Slowly, he swam to the surface, risking the fury of the waves and the driving rain and sleet so that Ree could take a few breaths of air. As they rode the top of a whitecap, Alex noticed a series of blows, far to the south, away from the boiling current, and knew instantly what they were. Blue Whales. Dozens—perhaps a hundred—or more, come up from the cold waters of the Antarctic to calve.
“What is it?” Ree asked weakly. “What do you see?”
“Mysticeti.”
He waited for her to take a dozen breaths and then swam with her down into the calmer depths where she wouldn’t take such a beating.
“I don’t understand,” Ree said. “What are
mysticeti
?”
“The largest whales that ever lived on this planet in the time of men.”
Alex inspected her closely. She appeared cold and exhausted. Ree’s face was deathly pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and her cheeks were sunken so that her prominent cheekbones were even more evident. She’d clearly lost weight since they’d left American Samoa. “I need to make contact with them,” he added. “I might be able to persuade them to help us.”
“How do you make contact with a whale?”
“It’s a long story. Trust me.”
“That’s what you keep telling me, and look where it’s gotten me.”
He forced a smile. “I’ve kept us alive, haven’t I?”
“So far.”
“Then trust me a little longer.” He motioned to his back. “Put your arms around my neck.”
“I can swim.”
“Save your strength.” She did as he told her, and he headed in the direction of the blows. The
mysticeti
were elusive creatures, only rarely encountered, even by Atlanteans. But they were gentle and kindhearted; how kindhearted, he was about to test.
“Why are we trying to find whales?” Ree asked.
“You humans have a legend about a man. Jonah?”
“From the Bible. He was swallowed by a whale and saved by the mercy of God.”
“If we’re lucky, the same thing will happen to us.”
CHAPTER 27
’E
nakai settled back onto her cushioned throne on the dais and smiled at the Atlantean ambassador who’d surprised her by bringing warning of the impending dolphin slaughter. She was garbed in her finest gown, crowned with a garland of rubies, and surrounded by a bevy of beautiful ladies in waiting.
On either side of the ambassador stood soldiers, and behind them, Lord Mikhail’s attendants. She had chosen to receive him in a secluded pavilion, one known for the splendor of its terrazzo floor, featuring scenes from early Lemorian folklore, its domed ceiling set with gems, and its walls of living kelp. Luminous jellyfish, chosen for their variety of colors and lack of poison, floated around the vast chamber.
The ambassador bowed his head, and she returned the courtesy with a regal nod. “Please.” ’Enakai waved and four servants carried in a bench for Lord Mikhail. “Be seated. I’m in your debt. We need not adhere to formalities among friends.”
He took his seat with a swirl of robes and a serene expression. This is a proud man, ’Enakai thought, not easily awed by her might and majesty. She hoped he had wit and intelligence to go with his refined manners, because the weighty matters she had to discuss with him were delicate.
“It pleases us to see this change in your kingdom’s attitude toward Lemoria, Lord Mikhail,” she said graciously.
A steward offered her a tiny crystal goblet of
blue fayzon
and a tray of sushi, pickled sea horse, and caviar on a rare species of seaweed. She snapped her fingers and waited as her taster stepped forward to sample the precious liquor and nibble at the delicacies. When he had pronounced all safe, ’Enakai took a small swallow of the
blue fayzon,
savoring the bite on her tongue, and handed it back to the steward, who offered it to their guest along with the food.
Lord Mikhail politely declined the
hors d’oeurves
and accepted the goblet. “Many thanks, your highness,” he said. “I confess that I hoped to have the opportunity to sample your legendary drink while I was your guest.”
“It is a rare treat, even for me,” ’Enakai answered. “Only a single liter is distilled in three years.”
“And it is my understanding that the process requires the labor of several hundred of your subjects.”
“It’s true,” she admitted. “Not to mention the demise of so many shellfish, but all that is valuable requires sacrifice. Don’t you find that true?” She smiled at him. “But you did not travel so far to discuss the distilling of
blue fayzon.
You come to bring a message of peace from Poseidon. My heart is gladdened. Too long have we quarreled like foolish children. The oceans are vast, large enough for both of us.”
“Atlantis agrees,” the ambassador replied in perfect formal Lemorian. He took a tiny sip and handed the goblet back to the steward who offered it again to her. “I’m sure that your soldiers gave you a full report. It is my understanding that Prince Alexandros himself led the Atlantean forces.”
Her ladies leaned forward, eager to hear news of the handsome Atlantean rogue. ’Enakai motioned them away. “Leave us,” she ordered. “And the soldiers, too. All of you! Away! We have no fear that Lord Mikhail means our royal person harm.”
“The Creator forbid,” he said.
“You were saying that Prince Alexandros led the Atlantean forces.” She smiled. “I would hardly call them forces,” she murmured, once the audience chamber was empty and they were alone. “As I understand, there were no more than three of your people involved.”
“Four”—Lord Mikhail corrected—“plus two North Atlantic mermen. And as you know, mermen are prodigious fighters.”
“But, nevertheless, far too few to make a difference without my Lemorians.”
“We agree wholeheartedly, your highness, which is why Poseidon sent word as soon as we learned of the planned atrocity.”
’Enakai’s lips tightened. “You must know that your Prince Alexandros is unwelcome in our kingdom. He has committed crimes and is suspected of murder and kidnapping.”
Lord Mikhail made no answer.
“He brought a human female to my palace. Are you aware of that? We do not involve ourselves with those from the land, and it displeases us that he would do so. It puts our kingdom in danger.”
“Has his guilt in this murder and kidnapping been proved beyond doubt?”
’Enakai made an impatient gesture. “He is unwelcome here. So long as he absents himself from Lemoria and the territory that we command, we are prepared to forgive his offenses.” She sniffed. “Although the healer that he killed was a highly respected one.”
“Is suspected of killing ...” Lord Mikhail corrected. “I find it hard to believe that Prince Alexandros would harm a healer-physician. That would be a mortal sin among our people.”
“Just so,” she said, draining the goblet of the last delicious drops. “I wondered the same, myself.” She met his shrewd gaze with her own. “And, you doubtless have heard that Prince Alexandros is not the only Atlantean royal prince who has paid us the honor of his presence.”
The ambassador’s face remained expressionless. “You refer to Prince Caddoc. Not a royal prince, a half-blood prince at best, one who never was in line to inherit the throne. Are you aware that Prince Caddoc is charged with high treason in Atlantis? That he and his mother, Lady Halimeda, conspired to murder our late king?”
’Enakai clapped and a servant ran from a small doorway. He dropped to his knees in front of her, lowered his head, and offered a thick scroll. ’Enakai took the scroll and dismissed the lowly creature.
“You may not be aware that since you left Atlantis, there has been another attempt on the throne,” she said as she passed him the scroll. “You may take this translation and read it at your leisure. A small number of rebels thought to crown Prince Caddoc by killing Poseidon and all his brothers. The king barely escaped murder as did Prince Orion. Unfortunately, two of the younger princes died, victims of base treachery, shot down at an archery range by men they believe loyal friends. But fortunately, the coup was utterly crushed and most of the traitors executed.”
Lord Mikhail half rose in his seat and his mouth gaped. “An attempted coup?”
That information cracked the polite mask,
’Enakai thought. “I’m sorry to have to give you such distressing news, but I can tell you that Poseidon may still be alive, and his brother Prince Orion definitely is.”
“I did not know,” he said breathlessly. “When I left Atlantis, all was well.”
She sighed and fingered the thick strings of pearls that cascaded from her throat, nearly covering her breasts. “I fear the source is Prince Caddoc. A pity that two of your royal house had to die needlessly. It was Prince Caddoc’s misfortune to suffer an accident resulting in terrible injuries.” She looked meaningfully at the ambassador. “Only a brief time before the attempted coup. But of course, his supporters could not know that their attempt was doomed from the first.”
“Injuries?”
“Maiming injuries,” ’Enakai said. “He lost his tongue and both eyes.”
“How?”
“Attacked by sharks while escorting his mother,
Queen
Halimeda, home from the temple where she had been worshiping,” she lied smoothly. “Such a devout woman. She will be greatly missed. Prince Caddoc fought bravely, but was unable to save her. She was eaten, and he was left a cripple.”
“Prince Caddoc is blind?”
“Yes.”
“Unable to speak?”
She nodded. “Tragic, isn’t it? Sharks ripped out his tongue. Such a promising young man, such a great orator, to come to such an end.”
“You must realize that no maimed prince can ascend the throne of Atlantis,” Lord Mikhail said, attempting to recover his composure. “Poseidon must be perfect in mind and body.”
“Naturally.” She crossed her legs and shifted to one side, allowing him a glimpse of her tail. “We follow the same custom in Lemoria,” she purred. “My own body is without flaw.”
“It goes without saying that your beauty has no equal.” He appeared to be considering what best to say next, and she decided to be merciful.
“Our sympathies lie with your king. Rebellion threatens the natural order, and regardless of birth order, it is our understanding that his mother was always a minor queen.”
“That is true, your highness.”
“I would be rid of this troublesome prince, but I doubt that Poseidon would welcome him back with open arms.”
“Hardly. More likely, he would be put to death.”
She nodded. “But he has already suffered greatly. It could be that he was innocent of the last attempt to seize the crown.”
Lord Mikhail looked unconvinced. “Possibly.”
“He has been my guest and under my protection. I have decided to send him into exile in some distant palace. Assure your king that his brother will not be without the necessities of life.” She laid a hand over her womb. “I am with child, Lord Mikhail. I fear it makes me tenderhearted. You have my word that Prince Caddoc will trouble your king no more. He will live out his life in quiet contemplation and comfort. And perhaps, in the centuries to come, he will find redemption in prayer and meditation.”
“I bow to your wisdom, Queen ’Enakai.”
“Will your king be satisfied?”
“I believe he will.”
“Then we are pleased.” She nodded. “This audience is at an end. You have our leave to depart at once for your homeland. Please tell Poseidon that I have commanded a thousand prayers to be offered daily for his recovery.”
She clapped again, and her honor guard returned to escort her from the chamber. She was eager to return to her own rooms and summon Caddoc. He would be doubtlessly thrilled to hear that his seed had proved fertile and she carried his daughter in her womb.
’Enakai was relieved that she’d quickened with a princess. It had saddened her to have to do away with the last two fetuses, but she would have no more mettlesome princes to contend with. A royal daughter would be welcomed, and Caddoc’s reward would be his life and an honorable existence far from Lemoria.
Ree watched in awe as the blue whales approached. She had known that they were enormous in size, but photographs in books or film footage didn’t do them justice. They were not, as she had supposed, entirely blue in color, rather a muted blue-gray with lighter patterns on their bellies. Each whale’s markings were different, making them not just a pod of nameless creatures but individuals of grace and beauty.
The leviathans’ heads were long and flattened, and their shining bodies were slimmer than the other great whales. The lead whale must have been nearly a hundred feet long with dark eyes and a great tail tipped with white. As it swam past, it gazed directly at her, and Ree was struck by the intelligence in the huge orbs.
“They’re baleen whales,” Alex said. “Instead of teeth, they have smooth plates in their jaws. They feed entirely on a diet of tiny krill.”
Ree nodded, her imagination caught by the sight of so many, moving through the water like ghosts. Not like ghosts, she corrected. The ocean vibrated with their haunting calls, a singing that brought a catch to her throat and tears to her eyes.
“Their mouths are huge,” she whispered. Her thoughts reached out to him. Under water, communication was so much easier. Mind touching mind, rather than voices struggling to be heard.
“They are. Your Jonah, of Bible fame, could have been swept boat and all into that gaping mouth.”
“You know the Bible?” She was constantly astounded by the man.
“The Old Testament, I believe,” he answered. “Yes, it was my mother’s wish that we study the great faiths of those who walk the land.”
“What did you think of them?”
He smiled at her. “That there is truth to be found in most, and that for all your differences and quarrels, they are more alike than different.”
“Different from your own religion?” What was it about being near these magnificent mammals that made her remember the sensation of walking into the great cathedrals of Europe or the tiny, country church she’d once come upon hiking through Vermont? She should have felt dwarfed by the presence of so many giants, but she didn’t.
Am I dying?
she wondered.
For years death hadn’t concerned her. But now, she realized how much she wanted to live ... how much she wanted to experience life with Alex.
“If you ask what I believe”—he said—“it’s that there’s but one Creator, the Supreme Being who reveals himself to us according to our understanding.”
The thought was comforting. “So I won’t be compelled to reject my own beliefs?”
“No. Never.”
Her fingertips and toes began to tingle, a signal that she needed to surface, but they were deep, and she wasn’t certain if she had the strength to manage the swim to the top.
“Be brave,” Alex said to her. “Fill your mind with images of blue water and warm currents. Blue whales are shy. They frighten easily, and they will defend themselves if they feel threatened.”