by Gene Stiles
“This is good to hear,” Metis replied as she poured a fresh cup of tea for herself and her sister. She paused to gaze out the window of the forest cabin, her bright, hazel eyes staring almost blankly at the misty beams of sunlight that filtered through the thick blanket of leaves high above.
“I understand the pain and anger of those of us who were there that horrible day,” she continued, turning back to her siblings and friends gathered in the small living room. Metis dropped heavily into her thickly-padded, carved-oak chair and stared into the swirling tea leaves. “Over thirty people died and hundreds were injured, many trampled in the rush to escape,” she said sadly. “I saw the imposters with my own eyes and even I thought them to be Zeus and his kin. If not hearing from our parents, I admit I would still be blaming him for the wonton attack.”
“We have done what we can to spread the truth without exposing our source,” Khryseis said, reaching out a slender hand to reassure her sister. “As you once said, few people realize Oceanus and Tethys are our parents. There are advantages to that. Have faith in the People. After all they have endured under Cronus, they no longer blindly believe in him.”
“Even among those who were at the festival,” Ezmerelda added from her perch on the small, flower-patterned sofa, “there are those who wonder. Why were there not more guards? Why would Zeus attack the heart of Atlantis with so few? How did they escape so easily without leaving a single trace behind?”
She absently tugged at the end of the tightly braided, night-black hair that swept over her shoulder and curled on her lap. Her ebony eyes were slightly hooded as she pondered the questions filling her mind.
“The People remember how Cronus treated the Izon and his own children when he saw them as a threat,” Ezmerelda continued. “They realize he may have orchestrated the whole thing to turn Atlantis against his son, though they will not say it aloud. Still, it is enough to…”
“Get out!” Bella shouted as she burst through the front door. Her sun-burnished skin glistened with sweat as the morning sun streamed through the threshold at her back. “Get out now!” Her breath came in ragged pants and her chest heaved from running. “A squad of Black Guard is almost upon us.”
Her sea-blue eyes were wide as they swept the cabin, coming to rest on the stunned face of Metis. “They are coming to arrest you,” she said. “They claim you are a spy and your parents had a hand in the attack. You are to be bound in chains and tried for treason. Run!”
“No,” Metis said once the shock eased enough to loosen her throat. She raised her hand to stave off the outcry pouring from the others. “There is no time and we would not get far. I will stay. I want the rest of you to hide in the woods. Let them take me,” she said firmly, brooking no argument. “You are unknown to them and of great value. Keep it that way. Now go!”
“Then I shall stay with you,” Bella responded. The stiffness of her stance and the arms crossed over her chest told Metis the decision was made. “I will bear witness to your treatment and make sure you are dealt with justly.”
Metis only nodded, knowing there was no moving her stubborn friend. A faint echo of sleds over underbrush reached her ears through the open doorway. Snapping into action, she nearly shoved Ezmerelda and her protesting brother and sister out the back door. She waited until they vanished into the forest then turned back, plopping down on the divan. Outside, a small squad of Aam skidded to a halt on her tiny front lawn.
Metis glanced worriedly at her friend as Bella sat down next to her. She clamped her hands together between her knees and sighed heavily, her body trembling. “Well, this should be interesting.”
“I cannot allow my daughter to rot in prison,” Oceanus said, pounding his meaty fist upon the table. The plates and utensils bounced amid the tinkling of silver. “I am of the Twelve! I will go before the council and demand her release!”
“That is assuming you reach the council,” Hades said, his voice low and harsh. His raven-black eyes were half-hooded as he rested his deep-cleft chin upon his steepled fingers. “If I were Cronus, I would intercept you and place you in the dungeon before you hand a chance to speak to anyone.”
“Why would he do that?” Oceanus said with a dismissive huff. “I have done nothing wrong.”
“Is it not obvious, my love?” Tethys placed a gentle hand upon his thick, dark-skinned forearm, her mahogany eyes wet with tears. “Cronus wants to use us to find the location of this place. As much as it rips my heart to pieces to know our daughter is in the hands of that monster, I know we cannot rush to her aid. There must be another way.”
“There is,” Haleah stated, her voice oddly flat and cold. “I have spent time in his cells.” The horror of her torture in those damp, dank warrens still visited her dreams from time to time, even after all these years and she shuddered inwardly. “I know my way around. My girls and I shall retrieve your daughter.”
“I cannot ask you to do that,” Oceanus replied, his rage blunted by her offer. He remembered how she had been captured after she helped the Izon escape Atlantis. He knew how her flesh had been seared and mutilated at the hands of Cronus’ minion. The physical scares might be healed, but the mental ones were not. He would not put her in that position again.
“You did not,” Haleah told him bluntly. “No one is better equipped than I. My girls are not known by Cronus or the People. They pass for Atlanteans all the time. Three of my granddaughters are living in the city at this moment, feeding us intelligence. That gives me a way in.”
Her honey-blond hair swirled around her oval face like a living thing, agitated by the thought of returning to that hellhole, but her spine was firm and straight. “I shall take six of them with me,” Haleah said. “They are all Aam of the Izon and among the deadliest fighters we have. Besides,” she added with a tight smile, “men always underestimate us delicate women. We shall bring Metis back to you.”
Haleah slipped through the darkened city streets, the hood of her cloak pulled low over her face. It had been over a hundred years since she was in Atlantis and it was doubtful anyone would recognize her, but she did not wish to take the chance. Four of her girls walked alongside her, chatting happily and laughing at private jokes. Yet their eyes flitted from place to place as the strolled casually along, taking in every alley, side street and building around them.
They missed nothing as they planned their route for their incursion. This was their fourth and last night mapping out the area around the Great Pyramid. Each night brought them in from a different direction past various storefronts, businesses and government buildings. The women noted the movements of Aam patrols, vehicles, shift changes and entrances to every building.
Tonight the moon was in its last phase, just a sliver of light in the star-strewn, inky sky. By tomorrow, it would be gone completely. A thunderstorm brewed against the peaks of the eastern mountains behind Atlantis and, if they were lucky, it would break by then. Rain would help dim the lights that bathed the city spires in shimmering gold and silver until the wee hours of morning.
The Wind Song was still packed when they returned. Flashing colored lights shifted in hue and speed with the pounding rhythms of the band playing upon the center stage. The dancefloor seethed with gyrating bodies, every table filled with happy people and exotic-looking drinks.
Haleah handed her cloak to the young woman in the checkroom and wandered through the throng, slowly making her way toward a booth in the far back of the clamorous club. Her clothing was loose and subdued, fashionable but nothing that would draw attention to her exquisite, sensuous body. She let her long, flowing blond hair hang loose, draped over her slightly sloped shoulders and hiding her stunningly beautiful face. Even at that, she was approached several times wormed her way through the crowded room. Her curt replies dissuaded most of her potential suitors. Harsher words and the coldness of her icy blue eyes drove the others away. She was greatly relieved when she finally sat down, grateful that so many other pliable women were present so none of the men pressed h
er too hard.
The lights in this corner were intentionally dimmed and the tables surrounding it were pushed back to give the occupants a bit of privacy. A tall glass of red wine awaited her along with three of her daughters. Haleah sighed heavily and took a deep swig, enjoying the sweet liquid as it wet her nerve-parched throat.
“All is prepared,” Valkyrie said, her round, but square-jawed face covered by a fake smile. She nodded toward a tall table halfway between their booth and the bustling bar where her twin, obsidian-haired daughters sat twittering with three Black Guard. “Polydora and Eudora have extracted the whereabouts of Metis from their companions. Strangely, she is not in the dungeons.”
“What?” Haleah said, shocked that Cronus was not torturing information out of her. “Where is she?”
“She is being held in quarters on the third floor,” her daughter, Melissa, answered. “As far as we have learned, though she is closely guarded, Metis has not been mistreated in any way.”
“Though I am very glad,” Haleah said, her mind reeling with the memories of chains on her wrists, sharp-edged blades peeling the skin from her broken bones, “I do not know why Cronus is not brutalizing her.”
“I, too, am grateful,” Valkyrie said, her ample, ruby-red lips pursed tightly, “however, it leaves us with a couple of issues.” She raised one slender finger and said, “First, it will be harder to reach her than if she were in the rarely used, lower corridors of the Pyramid. We chance more guards, more doorways, more unknown variables and possible electronic surveillance.”
“Secondly,” Valkyrie continued, raising another finger and staring deeply into her mother’s troubled eyes, “if Metis is not in any danger, should we even make the attempt to free her?”
“Yes,” Haleah replied after considering all the possibilities. She was well aware of the heightened risk they would be taking but she would not leave Metis’ fate in the hands of the vile, vicious man who had taken her beloved Morpheus from her.
“I know the Lord Father,” she said, almost spitting the title on the floor. “If Oceanus and Tethys do not return to Atlantis soon, he is just as likely to flay her publicly to get their attention. I will not allow that.” Her face hardened, a twitch appearing where her curved jawline met her neck. “I promised Oceanus we would return with his daughter and we shall.”
“Why am I here?” Metis demanded for the umpteenth time. She stood with her hands upon her hips, her legs slightly spread, staring at Cronus. The reddish tints in her long, brown hair caught the bright lights in her prison chamber and flickered like burning embers in the bottom of a dying fire pit.
“Come now, Metis,” Cronus said a little too soothingly. “I have already told you. You are to remain my guest until your parents return to Atlantis. Once they take charge of you, you will all be escorted from the city never to return.”
“That does not tell me the why,” Metis snapped back at him. The sapphire flecks in her bright hazel eyes blazed like green lightning.
“The why is simple,” Cronus replied, a touch of sympathy in his voice. He turned from her and eased himself into a plush, leaf-patterned armchair. “I have always been fully aware of your little Nephilim project and, for the most part, I applaud your efforts to spirit them out of the city. I do not like the way many of them are treated by the People. That is why I have allowed you to continue.”
“Still,” he continued, reaching for the small glass of wine he left on the low table in front of his chair, “many within this pyramid believe your little underground is also allowing criminals to escape justice. Because of the recent attack, security is being tightened. The council demands your efforts be halted. They want you arrested. I choose to expel you from Atlantis.”
“I am a full-grown woman. There is no need to wait for my parents. Just banish me if you must.”
“Would that I could,” he said, the weariness appearing on his ruggedly handsome face not quite touching his cold, jade eyes. “It is believed your network would simply slip you back in. I have yet to identify all of it so it can be dismantled. At least if I turn you over to the custody Oceanus and Tethys, I know they will take you far from here and press you not to return.”
Cronus stood and walked to the tall, carved-oak doors. He stopped with one hand on the handle and looked back at Metis. “Trust me. I mean you no harm. You will remain here as my guest until they arrive.”
“My parents are not that stupid,” Metis said, her words hard and bitter. “They know better than to trust you. Nor do I. You have far more in mind than to just let me leave with them. They will never fall into your trap.”
His green eyes as cold as chipped ice, Cronus glanced at her one more time before leaving. “Then you shall remain my guest for a long, long time.”
Iapetus awaited him as he closed the door and stepped into the hallway. The black-haired, walking block of granite fell quietly in step with Cronus as they strolled down the wide corridor, his face as inscrutable as always. Beneath his ambiguous appearance, his mind churned with concern for his brother. Though he could not prove it, Iapetus felt sure the attack by Zeus was a falsehood perpetrated by minions of Cronus. To what purpose, he did not know. Why the Lord Father would sanction the death of his own people, the giant man could not fathom. He feared his brother was once again slipping into madness and he was not sure what to do.
“I am sure Bella has contacted Oceanus by now. That is why she was not arrested,” Cronus was saying as they made their way through the pyramid. “I know the man well. If he believes his daughter is being held in the dungeons, he will have no choice but to see her free. He will return to Atlantis as quickly as possible.”
“I do not understand,” Iapetus said, his deep baritone voice rumbling down the corridor. “What do you think that will accomplish? We already know where Zeus and his siblings reside. Why do we need Oceanus?”
“He and his wife are traitors,” Cronus responded, a touch of anger adding a sharp edge to his words. He did not like having to explain himself to anyone. Not even his brother. “I am sure they conspired with Zeus to attack the People. They were trying to kill me. Once I have them, I shall extract the truth then parade them before the People and expose their crimes.”
Something in the tenor of his assertions made Iapetus uneasy. He was not sure who Cronus was trying to convince. Himself? He wished the assailants had been captured so he could have questioned them. They had vanished without a trace and Iapetus did not understand how they escaped so quickly. It bothered him deeply. They must have had help.
“What if they do not return?” he asked, his raven-colored eyes flat and emotionless. “It has been over two weeks. And what if they do, but they deny the charges? What do you have in mind?”
“You let me worry about that,” Cronus said coldly. “You just make sure your men capture them before they enter the city. I want to question them before they try to speak to the council. They will come. Find them.”
Haleah watched from the shadows across the street as Cronus and Iapetus left the Great Pyramid and drove into the city proper. The building next to her had a popular eatery on the first floor which was closed at this late hour. The five upper floors were offices and storerooms shut down for the night. Only a wide boulevard and a narrow, tree-lined walkway separated her position from the pyramid walls.
“Mother,” Valkyrie said softly, touching her shoulder, “we have an hour before we can move. Let us go inside. The storm is coming.”
Haleah heard a crash of thunder in the distance and knew the Creator was aiding them. Lightning flashed on the outskirts of the city, the black, tumultuous clouds rolling in her direction. The rain would drive any people straggling along the streets inside and dim the lights blazing on the golden pyramid.
“I do not like it,” she murmured as she followed her daughter through the back door they had pried open. “Only two girls in the hallway. What if they run into trouble?”
“My twins are more than capable of dealing with trouble,” Valk
yrie assured her even though she knew her mother was only rambling. The static electricity from the quickly rising storm caused the hairs of her long, blond braid to frizz and stand on end. She knew they would not have to wait long for the welcomed rain. “Melissa and her two daughters are only a short distance away, still hidden in a closed office should their assistance be required.”
“I know,” Haleah said with a worried sigh. Her sky-blue eyes glistened as they entered the office directly across from the room where Metis was kept. “I just feel I should be there instead of sitting here waiting.”
The warrior in her struggled to be set free, her muscles as tight as corded rope. The sight of the hated beast who caused so much pain and agony in her life so close she could almost touch him drove her nearly insane with fury. She wanted nothing more than to race across the street and beat him to death with her bare hands even though she knew it would be pointless suicide.
The mother in her made Haleah yearn to be within the pyramid instead of her children. Yes, she knew they were more than capable fighters. They had the best training Morpheus and his men could provide. They were beyond deadly with hands, feet or weapons. Still, it was her duty to keep them from harm. How could she do that if she were a building away?
Haleah understood her face was far too recognizable to be seen within the pyramid. It would be stupidly foolish to for her even attempt to enter the very bastion of Cronus. Her mere presence in Atlantis was dangerous enough. Though she hated it, she could not jeopardize their mission.
“The twins are moving,” Valkyrie said, listening to the comlink. “It is time.”
Tornellis leaned back against the wall, grateful to take the pressure off his aching legs. He had been standing at stiff attention for hours outside the door of the chamber while the Lord Father talked with the prisoner. With the Second waiting just down the hall, he knew better than to move a muscle. The punishment would not be pleasant.