by Mara Powers
“Sometimes the Nexes Order is called the Order of the Serpent,” Allondriss admitted. “The serpent humanoid was the original form taken by Belial and his brother. One became the liberator. The other, the oppressor.”
A wordless eternity passed as Allondriss studied Brigitte. An unspoken bond formed between them. Lukias looked on with his dreamseer eyes. Allondriss broke the moment, and cordially directed them into the house.
The large room beyond spanned nearly the entire structure of the main house. It featured a lush indoor garden with fountains of polished stone and hanging greenery growing in all directions from large baskets. The high ceiling displayed a checkerboard pattern, alternating amber glass with onyx stone.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I will fetch my master.” Allondriss walked to an alcove across from the entrance, braiding her hair quickly, her gaze on Brigitte. “Please make yourselves at home in the atrium until I return.”
MEDIATOR PAN AELLO had a habit of talking incessantly. He was engrossed in his own story when Allondriss approached. He excused himself mid-sentence and turned an eager expression to his servant.
No words passed between them. She nodded and he nodded back. Without a word to his guests, he began walking toward the house with his hands clasped behind his back, a smile forming on his lips. “So my special guests have arrived, just as you said they would!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands and rubbing them briskly, a movement he often made when excited. His long stride quickly brought them to the atrium.
Pan Aello was an older man with long, gray-streaked hair he usually kept swept back and tied behind his head. With a stroke of his goatee, another of his many idiosyncrasies, he greeted his guests fervently with twinkling eyes. Many deep smile lines made his age apparent.
Brigitte noticed Pan’s aristocratic composure upon entry into the sunlit room. She probed him closely, remaining quiet. Her brother stepped up in greeting.
“I am Lukias, High Seer of the Oceanus Dreamclan.” A silence seemed to open at his words.
“High seer?” Pan’s thoughts flew away. His expression fell for a moment. High seers had the power to guide entire dreamclans. This was a man of great importance, despite his apparent youth and unkempt appearance. “My servant is a perceptive one,” Pan continued, regaining his pace. “She knows the Lemurian dreamclans are forever welcome in Atlantis, and at my revelries. In fact, she had a vision of your arrival earlier! I am most pleased the Watchers have brought you to us! I bid you welcome to my outer estate, and to Atlantis!”
“I wish I could tell you our visit is for leisure,” said Lukias tiredly. “We have been traveling for quite some time now, and, to be honest, the Watchers have guided us here because we require your assistance.”
Pan smiled, standing straighter. Feeling needed was what he lived for.
“Your mediator line champions the Warrior Sect,” Lukias continued. “I believe this is why our journey has brought us to you, Pan Aello. We need a warrior escort to reach the palace.”
Pan seemed confused. “But the city is safe! You could enter with a royal parade if you wish! I will arrange one if you would like. Parades and pageantry are what we Atlanteans love best. Dreamclans have immediate audience in the palace at all times.” He paused from his rambling, reconsidering for a moment. “Why would you feel you need protection?”
Lukias lifted an eyebrow. “Atlantis is entering into a convergence which can tip the scales in favor of chaos. You may not be aware of the dangers lurking in the shadows of your beautiful city, Mediator, but this doesn’t mean they don’t exist. When the dreamclans arrive in Atlantis, our coming often marks a change of history. You and I are both aware of this fact.” He leaned in closer to Pan’s fading smile. “Our coming is a threat to some, and it is anticipated. We must reach the palace unknown and unhindered.” His pitch raised into steady urgency. “You must believe me when I tell you we have great need for protection.”
Pan was always aware of the machinations of the Watchers. Their domain was Dreamtime, the subtle fabric surrounding reality, like water surrounded the bottom of the sea. It permeated everything, and Watchers existed in this permeation as mere humans could not. People traveled there in their sleep, the only time they might release hold on a world shaped by eons of thought-created reality. Dreamseers had the ability to navigate Dreamtime, and as such, they were the envoys between humans and Watchers.
“Of course I will help you,” Pan spoke clearly. “It is my duty.” He took a prolonged look at the young chestnut-haired beauty accompanying the dreamseer. A ferocity burned in her almond-shaped eyes, which grabbed him enough to venture a second look. He admired her strong jawline, softly curved nose and the fullness of her lips. “I will summon a warrior escort for you immediately. But I would suggest, if you sense danger, that you wait until morning to travel. Night is the time when the shadows are thickest, after all.”
Lukias nodded in grim agreement.
“In the meantime, please accept my hospitality!” Pan clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly. “You may join the revelry, if you wish. I have some of the finest musicians in the land entertaining my court this night. I have spared no expense for the Ka-Ma-Sharri.”
“Pardon us, Mediator Pan, but we are not here to attract attention, or to celebrate,” Lukias protested softly.
“Well, that’s okay, my young foreigner, this is why we have revelry disguise in Atlantis. I will see to it my servants supply you.”
A movement at another entry to the atrium interrupted their debate. Brigitte’s heart lurched. The stranger from the marketplace, followed by the same twins, made an animated entrance. Their noise surged, then immediately ceased when they noticed who was standing in their path. The light in his eyes had seared her soul since they had parted. With a shiver, Brigitte silently cursed the Fates for joining their paths again.
“Ah! My sons! I see you’ve brought D’Vinid!” Pan exclaimed, throwing his arms open in delight. “Well done, boys! He is a difficult one to procure. And did you do the other errand I told you to do at the waterway market?”
“Yes.” Jensyn rolled his eyes. “I don’t see why you wanted this particular style of fruit. No one wanted to backtrack along the channel. It was hard enough to procure D’Vinid. We almost lost him.” He handed a bushel of fruit to his father, who picked one carefully and handed it to Brigitte.
“My lady,” Pan’s eyes seemed to devour her soul as he handed another fruit to Lukias. “You must be hungry from your long journey. This is the finest fale fruit, imported from the Atlantean Kingdom of Taino. It will satiate your every need.” He turned his attention to D’Vinid. “And one for you, my dear boy.”
D’Vinid accepted Pan’s gift and stole a look at Brigitte. She noticed how his expression changed from his entry, his dark eyes displaying shock, and then dismay, as they slid to the rose she still carried. Now a hint of apprehensive curiosity glimmered in his glance.
“My dear guests. This is D’Vinid, known as the Prophet Singer. He is the finest dabrina player in all of Poseidia, and in my employ for the revelry. He will be entertaining you this night.”
Lukias smirked slightly, observing his sister’s reaction. His hand absently slid to the crystal pendant now hidden beneath his clothing. It sent a jolt into his finger and he drew his hand back, surprised.
Pan clapped once again. “Allondriss here shall guide you to your chambers. And my sons will hand-deliver word to my associates in the Warrior Sect at once. Do not even think of wanting for anything. I shall ensure you are well cared for.”
Jensyn’s expression faded. “You want us to do another errand? We just spent the whole day finding D’Vinid and your stupid fruit.” His hands flew out to his sides in visual protest.
When Kayden realized what was being said, his eyes widened. “But the revelry!” he exclaimed.
Pan raised his palm at them with a feeble giggle. “You must excuse their rudeness. They are fatigued, and have forgotten their courtly manners.
Alas, I find myself needing to remind them of their current punishment, and how this errand will perhaps erase it.”
D’Vinid snickered at the twins, who were always in some sort of trouble. But his attention shifted again to the strangers from the market. The Watchers were at work, and he did not like it one bit. She was his muse come to life, to once again haunt his heart. Whoever she was, her presence made him tremble. But worse yet, he had tried to be rid of the rose, and it had come right back to him.
He thought about what Prince Bavendrick had said to him. Give it to your Ka-Ma-Sharri lover. If he could choose any lover, it would be this woman. But the Watchers seemed to have chosen her for him. He would do his best to resist, but the Watchers were clever, and women were his greatest weakness. Perhaps if he just went along with their plan, his job would be done as well, and the Watchers would leave him alone. It seemed a convenient thought, given his intense attraction to her. But a deep sense of danger gripped his heart. Half expecting her to suddenly turn into a fiery monster, he slipped out of the atrium on a mission to prepare his instrument.
PAN’S SERVANTS HAD spent the late afternoon setting up tables and cushioned lounge spaces throughout the gardens for the festivities. Scantily clad, and overflowing with charm and hospitality, exotic women led guests to tables and took orders for any number of intoxicating services, from oil massages, to flower-essence oxygen treatments, tonics, perfumes, and mood-enhancing elixirs. Pan treated all his guests like royalty.
Sunset washed the city with gold. Traffic faded on the Grand Esplanade. Shops closed. Every evening the gentle resonance of crystal-nodes engulfed the city rings. Their radiant song called the citizens of Atlantis into silent contemplation. Lights began illuminating the streets.
D’Vinid and the other musicians set up their instruments on the deck of a larger bungalow over the cove. He sat tuning his dabrina strings while dolphins chattered in the water, doing tricks around the kitchen where servants tossed fish for their evening meal. He watched the city’s starry lights come to life amid the ethereal resonance.
“I have never witnessed anything more divine,” a woman’s voice interrupted his brooding.
He caught his breath and turned to face Brigitte, who had not left his thoughts since their meeting.
“Yes.” His smile brought out the dimples in his cheeks. “Evenings have always held my heart. The song of the crystal-nodes, the color of the horizon, the lights of the city. Wait until you see it from the rings of the citadel. Your heart will be lost forever.”
She gazed around with the delight of a child, sighed deeply, then tossed him a smile, unsure how to react to the feelings his presence aroused in her. The resonant chiming continued.
“That sound!” she gasped.
“It’s the Temple Sect sending resonance through the nodes. We call it nodesong.” It was a sound he loved to the core of his being. “It calls us to illumination rituals.”
“And why aren’t we at the rituals?” she queried.
“That’s a good question,” he chuckled. “There are thousands of people throughout the city who do the rituals every day, three times a day. I guess the rest of us mostly leave the duty to them.”
“These rituals bring power to the Grid, yes?”
He nodded, closing his eyes and absorbing the sound. “They are what illuminate the city.”
A shadow passed over her face. “I will cherish this night. It will be my only taste of freedom here. I have such a feeling in my heart!”
“Well, I am glad to share it with you, then.” His spirit felt lifted by her passion.
They stood in tenuous silence until the nodesong faded.
The nodes were resonant capacitors built to harness Atlantis’s power through the focused thoughts of its citizenry. These mindlight donations fed power to the Great Crystal. For so long, D’Vinid had neglected his duties to meditate during illumination rituals. It was yet another source of his recent guilty conscience.
By this time he had already remembered her face from his uncomfortable dream. She had held a rose in her hand, and somehow made him feel more guilty than anything in his past. He feared her intensely, yet desired her more than he had ever desired a woman in his life. The longing bordered on pain.
She cocked her head curiously, wishing to ask him many questions. It seemed much easier to link telepathically, but this was not something Atlanteans did anymore, as they had in their history. It was a burden for her to think about communicating with only words.
He returned her examination, feeling strangely at ease under the caress of her entrancing eyes, despite the urge to run away from her. He reached out to brush a lock of chestnut hair from her amber eyes. Her dangerous beauty blossomed even more as he examined her face.
“You know,” he said, “this is the height of Ka-Ma-Sharri, the night when Belial’s mate, Kama, comes to him. I am always moved by the thought of their union; the tragedy of lovers separated forever, and the glory they must feel to be united once more, if only for a moment. It is customary to take a lover during this festival.” His eyes betrayed his admiration. “There is a woman who haunts my dreams. She is a light within the dark, a queen on a hilltop who I cannot touch. She holds my heart somehow. But she is ephemeral. She appears for moments in the eyes of a lover and then disappears.”
Brigitte began to tremble. She could feel the pull of his words. She was distressed by the story of Belial and Kama. Somehow she longed for this man without reason. Though he was devastatingly beautiful, it made no sense how she could love him so immediately and entirely. “Where did you get the rose you gave me?” she asked, trying to stifle the wavering of her voice.
He gently cupped her fingers and lifted them to his lips, holding her gaze. “I got it from a prince, who got it from the ghost of a queen, who presumably got it from a Watcher.” There was a roguish spark in his eye.
Her stomach turned to knots. “I go to the bed of my betrothed tomorrow,” she blurted, losing her breath. “I am to remain pure until his touch.”
“Do you know him?”
She stared wordlessly, and lightly pulled her hand away. It was not the answer she had expected.
“I didn’t think so,” he scoffed. “Our ways are civilized, yes?”
“If I am to carry on the bloodline of his family, I must remain pure. That is the civilized way. It makes perfect sense.” An awkward pause descended on them.
His hand slid to her hip. Panic gripped her throat. His lips brushed in a whisper across her ear. “Love and familiarity should be the basis of mating, not perpetuating bloodlines based on genetic alliances.”
“Not for those born to the task!” she protested, pulling away angrily. “In case you forgot, mating is the only known method for perpetuating bloodlines.”
He laughed at her offense. “The Fates can be avoided, my lady. Free will is our highest law, after all. This is why we take on kallistas. Our civilized ways have made it so love can be experienced, even if these betrothals deliver a mate we despise. So our dream kallista gets all the love, while the one bearing our bloodline is emotionally rejected. You can take on a kallista lover if you wish,” he suggested alluringly. “It is the Atlantean way.”
“I must not venture down that path. It is my choice to meet my betrothed with a clear heart.”
D’Vinid laughed. “A clear heart! Do you suppose the Watchers have that planned for you, as well?”
“We must learn from the mistakes of King Koraxx.” She tried to hide her trembling.
“Ah, yes! King Kyliron’s father, whose reign shall forever be known as Koraxx’s folly. A perfect example of how our civilized ways have brought us to ruin and shame.” His laughter was edged with irony. King Koraxx’s reign went wrong the moment he rejected his betrothed for his kallista, Dafni, thereby using his power as high king to make a whore into the queen of Atlantis.
She watched every move he made. Her passions grew stronger. Suddenly her voice seemed to escape her lips without permission. “If a
kiss would not break my betrothal . . .”
Without letting her finish, D’Vinid took her into his arms. His eyes flashed an eerie orange as he lowered his lips to hers.
Everything went black.
They floated in a vision among a million shards of starlight falling to Sophaiya. She stood by his side on a hill, overlooking pyramids in a lush jungle valley below. In the span of one kiss, their love transcended all time and space. A wave of light rippled from their embrace.
His eyes glowed a brighter orange. “Beloved Kama,” a strangely familiar voice escaped his lips. “I have waited for you, my love. It is time for my return, and for us to unite once more.”
Brigitte gasped and stepped back. It was as if a different person had suddenly appeared before her.
He shook his head. The light in his eyes faded. “What happened?” D’Vinid pressed his fingers to his temples.
“I don’t know . . . You changed,” she stammered.
He stumbled to steady himself on the railing. She placed her hand on his back to support him. He gazed at her in shock.
“Wow,” he breathed heavily, eyes wide.
A wave of apprehension rippled over her body. “I’m sorry, I . . . I couldn’t help it.”
“Neither could I.” He collected himself, taking note of his surroundings once more, feeling pulled in impossible directions. Vertigo flooded his head as he stepped away. He brushed his fingers on her cheek, drinking deeply of her beauty. “This is Watcher trickery. You’re right. We cannot continue.” He could barely control his body. He looked over the cove angrily. He had not meant to kiss her. Something had overtaken him. As much as he desired her, it only ignited a familiar resentment for whatever Watcher was trying to control his life.
FROM THE STREETS, a great cry rose into the night. Shadows stretched in the rising moonlight, cast by the lumbering forms of madness-stricken citizens. A chill of dread rippled outward through the city of Poseidia and across all of Atlantis.