Daughter of the Sea

by Mira Zamin

Calista stared at Melba, trying to make sense of the hurricane of emotions, each striving to establish precedence. Half-brother. She would wager that Claudius held her high in affections—any man who would risk so much for a woman on a few months’ acquaintance had to. Neither could she deny the pull she had felt towards him. In Rome, any relationship between her and Claudius that bled beyond fraternal was reprehensible. Bile rose in her throat. She knew the stories of the gods, their incestuous liaisons. And apparently, she was one of them, Neptune’s daughter. She cringed. Whatever her descent, she was human, she was Roman and the thought of her heart fluttering in Claudius’ presence confused her, disgusted her. Even if she had not loved him, she had seen him, her brother, as a man.

  Melba watched her curiously. “Are you ill? We should not tarry while the Waveguide awaits.”

  “What’s a Waveguide?” She had heard Neptune refer to it in the hall.

  Melba tittered. “Who not ‘what.’ The Waveguide is the ruler of Atlantis. It is a very great honor that she seeks your company.”

  “I thought Neptune ruled Atlantis.”

  Melba tutted at her ignorance. “Neptune rules the seas. Atlantis has belonged to the Waveguide since we came to be. But don’t fret: she shall explain it all to you.”

  Calista shoved her thoughts aside and concentrated on following Melba. The dark tunnel gave way to reveal a pair of sentinels who allowed them passage through immensely cast bronze doors. Robed figures and scenes of seas and mountains were molded into the metal with exquisite detail.

  “Welcome to the Maretheon,” Melba said softly.

  Calista grunted politely in response.

  Intricate mosaics adorned the walls of the Maretheon, depicting a series of lands and faces with unnaturally large eyes that examined her accusingly. Knowing it for the purest idiocy, she still shivered. Finally, they arrived at a huge glass atrium, which allowed a view of the surrounding ocean. It reflected blue-green on the sea-polished marble and the light rippled through like mismatched silver honeycomb.

  An immense door of riveted black iron swung open and Melba pushed a startled Calista through. Calista whirled around to ask Melba what was happening, but the dark doors shut firmly in her face. She wished the woman were still with her.

  Turning around, she saw another woman, as utterly unlike Melba as could be, seated in a blue-bronze throne as immense as Neptune’s. Despite the ornate seat, encrusted with emeralds and sapphires, the most majestic presence in the room was that of the seated handsome woman. Decidedly darker than the rest of the women Calista had seen, she had inky hair and deep copper skin. But when the woman’s eyes flicked to Calista, the gleamed like liquid gold. She seemed as young as she did old and Calista could not have gauged her age had she tried.

  Before Calista could make any sort of greeting, the Waveguide headed her off. Her deep and resonant voice commanded Calista’s attention, although it seemed at odds with her tall, slim figure. “Welcome, Calista Tertillia Volusus. Atlantis has long awaited your return.”

  Calista cocked an eyebrow, even as the mental and physical exhaustion of the grueling past few hours fell on her like a load of rocks. One look into the Waveguide’s eyes showed that she would not relent in the face of Calista’s exhaustion.

  “What do you mean?” Calista asked tentatively, deciding that if she could not beg off, she would beg information.

  Ignoring Calista’s question, the Waveguide launched into her explanation. Calista sighed disconsolately, wishing she had at least been offered a chair. Her legs ached at the thought of standing still.

  “Once, when the world was blossoming with ideas and great plays, when great thought, and great art flourished…but you do know even know my name and to understand the story you must know the storyteller. My name is Thetis and I am the Waveguide of Atlantis.”

  Calista supposed she should have been suitably awed at this announcement but with her legs feeling like fire-hot ants were crawling up them she could only produce an interested grimace. “Very pleased to meet you,” Calista added after a pause for lack of any other response. Then, the Waveguide’s name registered in her mind. “Mother of Achilles?”

  Deep-rooted grief crept across her face, but only for an instant before it was quickly smoothed over. “That was before Atlantis,” the Waveguide replied quietly.

  “Oh.”

  Nodding, as if Calista’s response were not wholly inadequate, the dark woman appeared as stony as before and began the story again but this time with a warning. “Listen well, Calista Tertillia Volusus, daughter of Neptune and Evadne; this is a lore that has been lost to the land-dwellers for many ages and you would do well to well to remember it. I highly advise you to commit what you hear to memory.

  “Once, when the world was blossoming with ideas and great plays, when great thought, and great art flourished, a land called Atlantis disappeared into the sea. All but vanished from the memories of those who live under the sun, Atlantis had to surmount many difficulties during its rebirth. As your Plato explains, Atlantis was once a neighbor of the city of Athens, but I am afraid he misses the mark on much else.

  “At the time, Atlantis was rivaled only by the island city of Knossos. The king of the state that was Atlantis angered Zeus, Jupiter to you, by murdering his daughter, the princess Altheda, after he found her pregnant out of wedlock. Unknowing that the child was Zeus’ and taking Altheda’s protests as lies, he grew enraged that she would invoke the god’s name in such untruths and killed her. When Zeus discovered the death of the girl, in his wrath, he smote the city-state into the sea. He would have damned all, innocents as well, had not Hera intervened with Poseidon to allow Atlantis dominion where it settled.

  “Those who had been granted a second life by Hera and Poseidon could still live on land, if they so chose, but as wraiths. There were a few who so longed for the warmth of the sun that they chose that half life. However, for those who wished to live in Atlantis, Neptune contrived a system of diverting the currents so that the dome you see today was formed and filled with air.”

  “You mean I cannot return to Portus Tarrus without being invisible?” Calista demanded, aghast.

  “Those not of the First Generation can visit and still be entirely visible Above, but who would wish to depart Atlantis?”

  Thetis pinned her with a look so steely and beady that Calista squirmed uncomfortably, feeling not at all like a woman who had held out under Avaritus and then masterminded an escape with her mother. She felt like a child who had been caught pilfering cakes from the kitchen.

  “Is any of this real?” Calista asked wonderingly.

  Thetis’ lips curled up, although Calista would not go so far as to call the gesture a smile. “Atlantis is part of the same world you grew up with.” Thetis pointed at the liquid dome and Calista followed her finger up and up until she saw a small circle of light bobbing miles and miles above. “There,” Thetis said. “That is your sun. This is your own sea, the one you paddled in during your girlhood. This is just as real as anything Above.”

  “What about the nymphs?” Calista felt like an idiot just saying the word and meaning it seriously. “And Neptune? How did Atlantis come to be in his grasp?”

  “Atlantis is not in his grasp.” Thetis’ voice could have sheared through glass. “The seas are Neptune’s domain, but Atlantis has been my domain since I offered myself to maintain the space you see before you today.” She leaned forward until she was almost touching Calista. “It is I who direct the currents to ensure the water does not collapse on us. It is I who sit judgment on the affairs of the citizens. The mantle of responsibility grows weightier with time. The moment will soon come when I must put it off altogether and select my successor.”

  Anticipation tingled down Calista’s spine, but Thetis abruptly waved a dismissal.

  Feeling as if she had been unceremoniously yanked awake, Calista bowed and backed out. The Waveguide nodded and turned to a stack of papers, seemingly forgetting her.

  Ah, I
do so love these Atlantians and their abrupt dismissals, Calista thought dryly.