Currents of Will: Book Two of The Atlantis Chronicles

by Susan MacIver

  In a startling transformation, the formidable Atlantean took on the appearance of a wrath-filled god, and Aris blanched at the deadly calm in Ni-Cio’s voice. “This round is over Travlor. Count it as your only win. By every blessed life we have had to sacrifice, I will not let it happen again.”

  With purpose fueled by rage, Ni-Cio turned his back on the empty seascape and summoned his friends. “Follow me. There is much to attend before we begin the hunt.”

  Aris and Evan sprinted down the dusty trail toward the compound after the departing figure. Evan was afraid to ask what ideas churned through the Atlantean’s mind.

  The men careened around the corner of an outlying cabin and thundered toward the middle of the deserted courtyard. Their feet pounded the scorched earth and sent choking clouds of red dust billowing into the air.

  As though speed alone could hasten the progression of time and events, Ni-Cio shouted orders even before sliding to a halt in front of the hastily assembled group. “Someone on this island must have seen the direction Travlor’s freighter headed. I need that information! And gasses, I need to know how long before we can return to our home!”

  Men, women, and even children, faces drenched in the dark blue hues of mourning, rushed to volunteer. Anything to divert their hearts from the losses they suffered. However, before Ni-Cio could issue more commands, Evan stepped in front of him. “I will get you that information.”

  Dust drifted over the unsettled gathering as Ni-Cio considered the man before him, then nodded once. “Find out how long the effects of the gas remain. The bioskins protected us, but I am not prepared to risk anyone in prolonged exposure.” He gazed at the small vestiges of his family and friends and tamped down on the sorrow that threatened to bring him to his knees. He was almost grateful to be the leader now—it helped him focus on something other than his own rage and grief. As much as it pained him, Ni-Cio knew what was necessary. Solemnly, he announced, “Until I know the gas has been rendered inert, no one is to return to Atlantis.”

  He forced himself to ignore the silent pleas on the shocked faces that surrounded him and he bent his head toward Evan. “My friend, do you think the decontamination worked?”

  Evan shrugged. “The bioskins obviously protected everyone from the worst, and since no one has become symptomatic, my best judgment is that we’re clear. Even so the ’skins should soak for the rest of the day. The water and soap will need to be changed and the clothing stirred.”

  Mer-An cautiously approached the topsider. “Evan, the children need to be kept busy, but more importantly, they need to feel needed. If I take responsibility for that duty will they be at risk?”

  Evan carefully considered the children. He struggled to keep his composure in the face of their obvious desire to belong somewhere, even if that somewhere was in a foreign topside environment. He ran a hand over his face then squinted at Mer-An. “No, the clothing is decontaminated; it’s just an added precaution. But give each of them another good scrubbing in the showers once the sun goes down.”

  Mer-An nodded her thanks and stepped back among the crowd of youngsters.

  Ni-Cio moved to the assembly of children. Seeing such sadness in their young faces was almost more than he could bear. Refusing to give in to the grief that threatened to explode into a never-ending rage, he took a deep breath, steadied himself, and dropped to a crouch, nestling two of the youngest children into each arm.

  Once they were settled, he glanced at the others. “I am assigning a duty that is very important. You will see to the bioskins. We must have them ready for the time we can go home. I am asking Mer-An to be in charge and you must promise to follow her instructions carefully.”

  Most of the older children held tight to the hands of their younger siblings, their heartache and fear reflected in their silence. Still, Ni-Cio could see that they were anxious to help.

  The children stared back at him with such adult sorrow coloring their beautiful faces that without thinking about it, he wrinkled his nose and pulled a funny face. He was grateful to hear a few soft giggles and for a moment his heart lightened. He signaled the children to come closer and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Don’t worry, I will see to it that Mer-An introduces plenty of playtime.”

  When the whole group of children giggled, Ni-Cio’s heart lifted. He gently released the youngsters and stood, kissing the tops of their heads, then watched them melt back into the group. He wasn’t sure if he was just wishing it so, but it seemed that each child stood a little straighter and their faces looked a little brighter.

  Somewhat heartened, Ni-Cio turned back to Evan, and the business of moving forward. “What about contamination of the biospheres?”

  “The salt water was enough to clean the outsides and the potency of any residue lessens with time, but just to be safe the interiors should be scrubbed with a solution of bleach and water.”

  Rogert stepped forward. “My men and I will see to that.”

  Ni-Cio studied the stalwart Atlantean. The man had fought like a risen Hercules and had been a magnificent force against Travlor’s soldiers. However, he had lost both his beloved wife Sann, and his vivacious fourteen-year-old daughter, Na-Sann. Rogert had such a tight rein on his grief that Ni-Cio was not certain how he still drew breath. He touched Rogert’s shoulder. “Thank you, my friend.”

  Turning back to the others, Ni-Cio continued to organize his people into work details, singling out the leaders of each group. They were all ready to have something to do. “You are to be responsible for replenishing the food supply … take your group to the cabins, they must be brought into some semblance of order … those of you in this group …” And on it went until everyone had been given something to do and some way to help.

  At last, Ni-Cio turned to Evan. “And, my friend, it falls upon your shoulders to help us find a way to blend into this new world.”

  Evan’s gray eyes narrowed in thought. “I can mask our presence at the compound and whoever accompanies me can be masked as well.”

  The doubt in Aris’s voice carried throughout the courtyard. “Would you care to explain how that is a possibility?”

  The skeptical look in Evan’s eyes told Ni-Cio that he and Aris should’ve already known the “how” of it. “Travlor taught me.”

  Ni-Cio was as nonplussed as Aris and they simultaneously released a torrent of questions. “How close do we have to be? Are you able to mask individuals as they move about? Are we invisible or can our presence be detected? How many of us can you mask at once? How far does this power extend?”

  Evan held up his hands. “Hold on! First of all I’m not sure about anything. I’ve never had to do more than maintain the mirage of a deserted compound.”

  Lost in the enormous possibilities that Evan’s talent presented, Ni-Cio beckoned to several children. “Then we will experiment.” He indicated various directions to each child. “Run until you reach the area I have shown you. Then, turn around and stand very still. Do you understand?”

  Adventure tinged the air and the children quickly nodded their heads. “All right … show me!”

  In a sudden burst, young arms and legs pumped furiously. When each child had reached their designated site, they stopped in anxious expectation.

  Ni-Cio looked at the topsider and nodded, “Let us see what is possible.”

  Evan scanned the assembled Atlanteans and then looked uncertainly at the scattered youngsters. Ni-Cio watched the topsider’s sudden inward concentration, then quickly shifted his gaze to the waiting children. It was as though a shimmering wave passed before the body of each child, and then they were no more.

  Barely able to believe what he had seen, Ni-Cio heard the shocked exclamations, and strangled gasps of his people. Some of the Atlanteans took off, heightened colors of purple writhing over their features, to find and collect their beloved child.

  Ni-Cio touched Evan revere
ntly on his shoulder, “By the gods, you continue to amaze me.”

  Evan gave a sharp shake of his head, telling Ni-Cio he was still unsure of his ability. “I know the illusion of the vineyard can be maintained even as far away as Fira, but as for masking people as they spread out . . . well, I’ve no idea.”

  Ni-Cio slapped Evan’s back. “Then we will find out.”

  Once his people quieted, Ni-Cio sent the different groups to their tasks, then he and Aris helped Evan lay out a course of experimentation. With remaining volunteers on standby, testing began to determine the parameters of Evan’s masking ability.

  “It would be nice to be a saint, but truly, who wants to do the work?” Travlor turned from the miniscule porthole. “No, I intend to utilize the shortcut you represent.”

  “You can’t possibly be serious.” Daria rubbed her eyes and rose from the bunk. She needed a moment to think, so she poured a glass of water from a nearby pitcher. Tasting tin, she swallowed hard and set the glass down, then crossed the small space and stood before her brutal kidnapper. “I won’t do it.”

  The look of a ravenous bird of prey settled over Travlor’s face and his eyes pierced her very soul. Her insides shook. “Mark my words young woman—I am deadly serious and you would do well to consider that, and the safety of your unborn, before attempting a mutiny.”

  Daria stepped closer with a look that she hoped was defiant. “Maybe it would be well for you to remember that without my intervention, your bones will become dust sooner rather than later.”

  Their eyes locked, unblinking. Daria held her ground until she could no longer look into that lifeless void. Yielding, she felt weak and pulled a chair from the table. She sat down and fought the urge to start screaming because she knew if she did it would be the end of her. She was proud that her voice remained steady. “You say you want nothing less than world domination, so, where do you propose starting this so-called … religion?”

  “My dear that is no business of yours. Suffice it to say, the less clothing the better, as the climate will be rather warm.”

  Daria couldn’t hide her surprise and something masquerading as a chuckle slipped from between Travlor’s lips. “Don’t worry, we are decidedly not going to hell.”

  When she refused to respond, the Atlantean briskly rubbed his hands together. “We will be arriving in port in the next few days and unless you want to remain in these rather grim surroundings, I suggest you relax and enjoy the trip. I have had my man prepare a sumptuous meal with which to break your fast. All that is required is your presence.”

  Daria’s stomach had been rumbling ever since Travlor had abruptly entered the cabin and unceremoniously begun outlining his egomaniacal schemes. She knew there was no way she could break through the stranglehold he had on her thoughts, so for the time being, she let need overcome valor. “Lead the way.” She heaved a sigh and stood.

  Travlor opened the door with a flourish. “Oh please; you act as though I am accompanying you to the gallows. At least humor me with a show of lighter spirits.”

  “Said the spider to the fly.”

  “Don’t mumble. I can’t abide people who don’t speak up.”

  She almost rolled her eyes at the egotistical bastard, but thought better and stepped over the threshold. She waited for Travlor to lead the way, then followed the Atlantean through narrow passageways and up steel stairways until she found that she had been escorted to the bridge. When Daria walked over the steel decking to stand beside the finely laid table, she had the unshakable feeling that she had just stepped onto a gangplank.

  Without a doubt, the compound was showing signs of life. The physical release of manual labor kept minds and hearts occupied and everyone worked with focused care. The small families of Atlantis worked to fulfill their designated obligations. The decrepit wasteland that had been Travlor’s compound began to show renewed signs of life, and as the compound began to heal, so too did Atlantean hearts.

  Island breezes twirled through the open doors of the busy kitchen and wafted out carrying the mouth-watering aroma of freshly baked cookies.

  Each cabin was given a thorough cleaning until the weight of years of dust and neglect were thoroughly swept away. Windows that had been blackened with grime slowly began to gleam in the morning sun, and tattered angles and sagging porches began to look less forlorn. The grounds were raked and any leftover signs of Travlor’s encampment were deposited into garbage bags. An air of quaintness settled over the entire area.

  However, it wasn’t until the sounds of children at play could be heard that any signs of Travlor’s presence were truly expunged. When the blessed noise of childish laughter and tuneless rhymes rose with the morning sun, a feeling of normalcy and a sense of home stirred the hearts and minds of the newest inhabitants of the old vineyard. The outward signs of grief began to yield to the need to move forward and once again embrace life.

  While this small transformation was not lost on Evan, when he entered the front gates, he was mired in thought. The others of his group trailed behind, their attention sharply focused on him, oblivious to the fact that he wanted to be alone; he didn’t need them to witness his failure.

  That he had failed was abysmally clear. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, hunched his shoulders, and clenched his jaw. Walking to escape the others, his muscles felt stiff and disjointed and he grumbled, “I cannot believe I won’t be any more useful than that! What good is this stuff if that’s the extent of it?”

  He heard steps quicken and felt a hand on his arm. He just about shook it off when he realized that it was Ni-Cio. He signaled the others to catch up, then looked at the Atlantean. “Don’t start.”

  “Topsider, cease your rumblings!” Evan was momentarily stunned into silence because the curt command was issued with the full authority of a true council leader. The Atlantean fixed him with a perplexed stare. “The powers you have exhibited are extraordinary, yet your discouragement refutes those very gifts.” Ni-Cio turned his palms up and rushed on. “So they are finite and not as far reaching as you would have them. That you have come this far is nothing short of miraculous!”

  Evan ground his teeth and looked away. They needed so much help and time was running out. Travlor was proceeding with his agenda and there was no one to stop him. His escape, as far as he knew, had gone unnoticed and Evan was scared. He was scared for all of them and he could only imagine how Ni-Cio felt. He took a deep breath. “Ni-Cio, believe me, I’m not trying to refute anything. But the longer it takes to find Travlor, the harder it will be to get Daria back. Knowing him, he will be in such a fortified position that it might just be impossible to get her back. He won’t rest until he has total control of this topside world!”

  “My friend, you run ahead of yourself. Do not get so far into the future that you cannot work the present.”

  Aris stepped between the two men. “Evan, one step at a time. Until we have some idea of Travlor’s whereabouts, it is of no use to worry about his plans … no matter his aims. We must focus on what we can do and what we know.”

  Aris motioned toward the other men. “We are in awe of the abilities you exhibit. It is a wonder that whoever is within two hundred yards of you can be masked while at the same time you can keep the compound disguised from as far away as the main town. That ability alone keeps our presence hidden and therefore keeps us safe. Travlor will feel he has more time to work his goals if he believes we have been exterminated. In the meantime, if any of us leave the compound without you, we will just have to try the same disguises that Daria used for Kyla. Certainly that tactic is not without risks, but it can be done.”

  Aris’s seriousness melted into a smile, “I am with Ni-Cio, do not let yourself become discouraged; why, you have become our most formidable asset!” Aris rubbed his stomach. “Come, the sun has yet to reach its zenith. The kitchens are open and if my nose does not deceive me, a fine meal awaits and I am r
avenous.”

  When his friend clapped him on the back, Evan couldn’t help that his mouth quirked into a small grin. He liked the hot-headed Atlantean and couldn’t resist baiting him. “I’m fairly certain your nose will still be working when other parts of you aren’t.”

  The laughter that followed his remark made Evan feel more a part of this Atlantean family than he had ever felt among topsiders. Together, the men made their way to the kitchens.

  “The plans are set then,” Ni-Cio nodded at Evan, “You and Kyla take the truck into town and try to find information as to the direction Travlor’s ship is headed. In the meantime, as the biospheres have been cleaned, I will accompany Rogert’s group. It is time to restock the larders.”

  Ni-Cio’s glance took in Aris and Mer-An. “It is up to you to design a workable disguise. I am not comfortable being completely dependent upon Evan’s close proximity. Therefore, it is imperative that we have the capability to move about the island without being masked.”

  It was then that Evan set some of the lunch dishes aside and solemnly propped his elbows on the table. Ni-Cio waited. “Kyla and I will research the different gasses that Travlor could have possibly used. However, once released, most gasses dissipate fairly quickly. Worst case, three days should be enough for whatever they used to have completely broken down. Even so, the entirety of Atlantis needs to be scrubbed as an added precaution.”

  When the topsider hesitated, Ni-Cio instinctively knew he was not going to like what he was about to hear. Slate gray eyes looked across the table and Evan quietly resumed. “Ni-Cio, it is the bodies that concern me. They have to be taken care of or there will be no Atlantis to return to.”

  Ni-Cio sat back, speechless. He had refused to allow the hideous remains awaiting his return to enter his thoughts. Somehow, he had known that any acknowledgment, however slight, would cause his mind to follow the path toward the madness they represented. And now, Evan had flung that door wide open.