The Last Atlanteans

by Katrina Ryan

  This was Atlantis.

  But the place was nearly unrecognizable now. Even from a distance, Victoria could see that the buildings were deteriorating. Grass was growing through cracks in the stone cobbles that had once paved a busy city. The square was undeniably beautiful, but it radiated the same emptiness and silence that haunted the surrounding buildings. Looking into the dark windows of all the buildings, Victoria realized what was wrong.

  “Atlantis is deserted,” she breathed. She couldn't see any sign that humans had been in the city for centuries. Was it the wave? she wondered, feeling more uneasy every second. Not knowing where else to go, she walked down the steps, following a sign to the Plaza, which she assumed was the enormous courtyard before her. A beautiful, domed building was across the grassy square, but the ancient castle that overlooked the Plaza seemed the most important.

  Within its walls, the grassy courtyard of the castle Keep had grown wild, though Victoria noticed a stone structure in the middle. Approaching it, she realized it was a modest throne, surrounded by paving in the shape of a sundial. As she approached it, she wondered how long it had been since someone had sat on it, let alone seen it.

  And then a fire burst to light in the middle of the Keep, on the grass in front of the throne.

  Victoria stared at the fire for a few seconds, deciding whether to run. The flames weren't spreading, and as she edged closer, Victoria couldn’t help but feel that some deep magic was involved. She knelt, feeling an irresistible urge to touch the flames. They weren’t radiating heat, confirming that this was no normal fire, and she dipped her fingers into the flames. At first, she felt a pleasant tingle in her wrist, and then, the fire seemed to explode in a burst of light. She pulled her hand away with a gasp, feeling like her arm had been scorched. The pain stopped instantly, but her wrist was covered in ash. She dusted it off with shaking fingers and stared in horror at the skin underneath.

  Mene mene tekel upharsin.

  Four black words were imprinted onto her wrist. The script was small and elegant, nearly identical to her own handwriting. Victoria had studied a few languages, but these words didn't mean anything to her. Nick would know, she thought. He was Tom’s oldest friend and the smartest person she knew. The longer she stared at the words, she more she struggled to believe they weren’t a curse. She didn't want them on her body. She tried to wipe off the words with the back of her other hand, and then on the damp grass, but they refused to smear or fade.

  And then, the fire vanished as quickly as it had ignited. There were no smoke or glowing embers to indicate a fire had been burning there only seconds ago, only two words burnt into the grass.

  Help us.

  Chapter Two

  MENE MENE TEKEL UPHARSIN

  Victoria looked over her shoulder, suddenly feeling like she was in a nightmare. Somebody had written the words, and that person was invisible and powerful. The castle was empty, and the nearest walls were too far away for anybody to have hidden so quickly. Victoria shuddered, trying not to entertain the image of the castle keep filled with ghosts, and retreated to the Plaza. She had to get out of Atlantis. Arriving at the building with all the mirrors, she found the mirror that had brought her here still had the same glow around it. Praying that the portal still worked, she touched her hand to where glass should have been, and her fingers passed to the other side. Closing her eyes in relief, she stepped through.

  For a horrible moment, she thought the mirror had made a mistake. She didn’t recognize the guesthouse with its new furniture, until she remembered that this was her bedroom now. Glorious sunshine that contradicted her panic filled the room, and everything looked ordinary.

  What the hell happened? Victoria thought, sinking onto her bed. Her visit to Atlantis felt like a nightmare, and she wondered for a moment whether she’d really been there. Holding her breath, she looked at her wrist. The words mene mene tekel upharsin stared back at her in beautiful black letters. This can’t be happening, she thought. She grabbed the corner of her new bedsheets with shaking fingers and began to rub her wrist. Her skin stung with the friction, but the words stayed as dark as ever. She took a breath while reality crumbled.

  There was no way the words on her skin could be permanent.

  She fired off a text to Nick asking what the words meant. While she waited for a reply, washed her wrist in her new bathroom. Three times, she watched the soapy water run into the sink without any trace of ink. She cursed under her breath and rummage through the toiletries and accessories she’d moved to the guesthouse, her desperation growing. Finding a pink silk ribbon, she prayed she had found a temporary solution. After a few fumbled attempts, she managed to tie a bow around her wrist. It didn’t change the words underneath, but it was better than nothing.

  How long was I in Atlantis? she wondered. She glanced at the watch on her unmarked wrist. She’d spent nearly an hour in Atlantis, which was what she would have guessed. At least I didn’t travel though time, she thought. But how is it possible?

  She jumped when her phone buzzed in her hands. The phrase from the Bible? Nick said. It was a warning from God saying they’d been judged, found guilty, and would be divided. You know the expression, the writing’s on the wall? x

  Feeling nauseous, Victoria read his message a few times. She could only think of Atlantis, but she was sure Atlantis wasn’t in the Bible. She composed a reply, hoping she was just being paranoid. I think I've heard of it. But who is it about? x

  Nick's reply came less than a minute later. Babylon, I’m sure. See Daniel 5. x

  Victoria thanked Nick and pulled up the Bible app on her iPad. She found the story about a disembodied hand writing the words mene mene tekel upharsin on a wall, confirming what Nick had said. It was a promise of doom, the punishment for immorality. A curse.

  And it was now on her wrist.

  Victoria buried her face in her hands. Whether this story was about Babylon or Atlantis, the meaning was unmistakable. The guilty would be punished. But I’m innocent, Victoria thought. Every second, she hated the words more and wanted them off her body. She tried to think of a better solution than the ribbon while she unpacked and organized her house. Eventually, she gave up and called her best friend, Sarah, to say she was ready to meet up. She locked her house for the first time and walked to town, relieved to return to reality.

  “Smile, Vic,” a voice said when Victoria had been waiting outside her favorite coffee shop in town for a minute. Victoria looked up in time to see a young woman with ruby red hair point a camera in her direction, standing a few paces away. “It's summer! Don't look so sad.”

  Victoria flashed a smiled and waited for the shutter to click before Sarah ran up and pulled her in for a hug. Flecks of paint covered her jeans and shirt, which didn’t surprise Victoria. She was an artist.

  “I been working on a project all day,” Sarah explained. “I need a drink badly.”

  They ordered drinks and returned outside to a sunny table. “We should go somewhere this summer,” Victoria said. If she didn’t keep Sarah distracted, Sarah would notice the ribbon on her wrist in no time. “We can tell Andrea we're looking at universities and go to Europe or something. I’ve got nothing better to do, and I'm sure she'd love to take us on holiday.”

  “Sounds amazing,” Sarah said. “Oh, my god, Vic,” she whispered. “Turn around slowly and look at the guy at the table behind you. He’s bloody gorgeous.”

  Reaching for her bag in what she hoped seemed a casual manner, Victoria glanced at the neighboring table, where a young man who looked her age was reading his newspaper. He had brunette hair tied back with a ribbon and a face Victoria was sure she recognized from somewhere, maybe a magazine. His cheekbones and chin were angular and defined, giving him an exotic look that any photographer would love, and his black shirt revealed the toned, tanned arms of someone who worked outside. He is gorgeous, Victoria thought, feeling a twinge of disloyalty to Tom, but something else about this stranger gave her an uneasy feeling.

&nb
sp; As if he had heard her thoughts, the boy set his paper down. His piercing silver eyes met hers for a second, closing the distance between them, and the he looked away. Victoria didn’t think he was Sarah's usual type, but from the way Sarah was still staring, it didn’t seem to matter.

  “Go on,” Victoria whispered. “Ask his name.”

  Sarah shook her head, looking horrified. “I don’t know him,” she hissed.

  “That's the point,” Victoria pressed, rolling her eyes. It was a rare occasion for Sarah to find somebody she really liked, but she never made the first move. “If you don’t ask, I will for you. That’s a promise.”

  “Forget it, Vic,” Sarah muttered. “He still has half his drink left. I can see he’s not going anywhere yet.”

  Victoria sighed.

  “I see your point. I can't get a boyfriend unless I actually talk to guys,” Sarah grumbled. “There's just nobody right for me.”

  “You should date Nick,” Victoria said. “If you gave him a chance, you’d see how much he fancies you.”

  He’s in love with you, she wanted to add, but now wasn’t the time.

  “He's too nice, and too smart,” Sarah complained, though Victoria didn't think those were negative traits. “I can see myself getting bored after a day.”

  “I still think you'd be good for each other.”

  Sarah ignored the comment, which was exactly what Victoria expected. She glanced at the other table again as the boy lifted his drink. His sleeve suddenly slipped up his arm, and Victoria glimpsed a linear tattoo on his wrist.

  The words mene mene tekel upharsin.

  He and Victoria locked eyes for another moment, sending a shock wave through her body, before he stood up, leaving his drink on the table. He was even taller than Victoria had guessed, and he was already disappearing into the crowd by the time Victoria pushed her chair back, her heart racing. She had to follow him.

  “Sorry,” she said to Sarah. “I'll be right back.”

  Without waiting for a reply, she raced away from the coffee shop. The boy was already some distance ahead on the street, nearing a corner that would take him out of sight. Victoria knew her time was running out.

  “Excuse me,” she shouted. “Wait!”

  The boy continued without looking back. Victoria felt a flare of irritation. He's ignoring me, she realized. He turned down a little alley, but when Victoria reached it, he had disappeared. Victoria took a few deep breaths, staring at her frenzied reflection in the nearby window. The alley was a dead end, and there was nowhere he could have gone. She knew she’d seen the words on the boy's wrist, and she was convinced she’d seen him somewhere before, but she wouldn’t have believed he was real if Sarah hadn’t seen him, too.

  The tattoo has got to be a coincidence, she reminded herself. It's a Biblical phrase.

  She returned to the table, still unable to explain the tattoo or the boy’s familiar face. Sarah looked up, nervousness apparent in her green eyes.

  “I didn’t talk to him,” Victoria sighed. “He disappeared before I could get a word in.”

  “Good.” Sarah lifted a pen over Victoria's left forearm. “May I?”

  Victoria nodded and watched in fascination as Sarah began to draw. A beautiful, monochrome rose slowly took shape, sprawling across most of her forearm. Sarah began to hum and put her pen down after a minute, looking satisfied with her work.

  “You’ve got a tattoo,” Sarah said.

  Victoria felt her eyes widen, thinking Sarah had seen the words under the ribbon, but Sarah was still looking at her artwork. “Very pretty,” Victoria said, moving her other hand under the table. “It looks like a real tattoo.”

  “You'll smear it if you touch it,” Sarah warned. “How’s your move going, by the way? Seen any ghosts in the guest house yet?”

  Victoria laughed, though Sarah’s joke was far too close to the truth to be funny. She prayed she would never see the orb again. “I’ll introduce everyone tomorrow.”

  To her disappointment, she returned home an hour later without seeing the mysterious boy, either. She was in the main house when family returned from work. Andrea was slightly shorter than Victoria and had the same silver eyes, but her hair was midnight black and barely brushed her shoulders. Everyone said she looked like an older version of Victoria, and today, her summer dress made her look even younger than her age. Behind her, Aiden looked astonishingly like a male version of his wife, but he kept his hair slicked back and preferred more formal outfits for work as a solicitor.

  “Evening, darling,” Andrea said, setting her shopping onto the kitchen counter to give Victoria a hug. “How has your day been?”

  “I’m nearly done moving into the guest house,” Victoria said. She dropped her left arm behind her back to hide the ribbon and decided against mentioning the mirror, though she doubted Andrea had any answers. “I went to town for coffee with Sarah, and Tom stopped by earlier this afternoon. We looked talked about Atlantis and university.”

  The envelope Andrea had been holding fell to the floor with a loud smack, making Victoria jump. Andrea picked it up and handed it to Victoria. “That's lovely, darling,” she said. Her lips formed a tight smile that contradicted her words, but Victoria wasn't about to ask what was wrong. “Speaking of universities, that booklet came in the post today. From Durham, I suspect.”

  Victoria tore the envelope open and found a palatinate Durham prospectus inside. She stared at it for a second, feeling another genuine surge of excitement about going to university. “It is,” she said. The booklet was heavy, but she would enjoy perusing it with Tom. She was sure he’d gotten his copy today, too.

  “Oxford, Cambridge, and Durham have a tradition of producing some of the finest scholars in the world,” Aiden said, emerging from reading a letter to pour himself a drink. “I wouldn't dismiss their prestige lightly for any other university.”

  “I know,” Victoria agreed, understanding that he was speaking from experience. “Tom and I feel the same way, too. There's just something so amazing about those universities.” She dreaded to think what Aiden would say if she decided to study elsewhere, but she hoped he’d support whatever decision she made.

  “I want you to go wherever you'll be happiest, darling,” Andrea said as she opened a bottle of wine. She poured a reasonable glass for herself and a smaller one for Victoria. “Your time at university is precious, and only you can truly decide what's best for yourself. I can take you and Sarah to look at universities in Europe this summer, if you would like to explore all your options.”

  Victoria gaped at her. “That would be amazing. We were actually talking about that earlier.”

  Their discussion about university continued throughout the evening. Victoria felt her evening was a vast improvement on her morning. Neither Aiden nor Andrea seemed to notice the ribbon on her wrist, and the only text messages she received were from Tom. Even after a few small glasses of wine, she wasn’t inclined to ask him or her family about Atlantis.

  At midnight, she returned to the guest house to get ready for bed. She could see the glow around the mirror, and when she touched the glass, her reflection rippled. But she had no interest in going back to Atlantis tonight, or ever. Like the words on her wrist, it was easier to pretend Atlantis didn’t exist.

  She shifted a few more boxes out of the way and collapsed onto her bed. Before she fell asleep, she vented about her day in her journal. It felt like days had passed since she’d received the mysterious text to save Atlantis, and yet the words on her wrist were proof that something in her life had changed profoundly since the morning.

  Chapter Three

  TRUE ALLEGIANCE

  The next morning, Victoria ignored the mirror, though she could see it glowing in the corner of her bedroom. The words were still under the ribbon on her wrist, and she didn’t feel any better about having them there. Even more than yesterday, she felt angry that Atlantis had imposed this burden upon her, and she still had no idea what to do about it. In the end, she
distracted herself by finishing preparations for her housewarming party that evening.

  At noon, her phone buzzed with a message from an unknown sender.

  Victoria, you must decide tonight whether you will keep the Sentence of Atlantis. If you put your hand into the fire, you will lose the Sentence and sever all ties with Atlantis forever. If you do not touch the fire, you will remain marked, and the Sentence will be your key to Atlantis.

  Victoria read the message a few times, making sure she understood. The Sentence, as the note called it, wasn't permanent. There's no way I'm keeping it, she decided. She slid the ribbon down her wrist for the hundredth time, just to check the words hadn't already disappeared. Though the rose Sarah had drawn on the other arm had faded slightly, the four words in black ink were still as dark as ever. The writing was pretty in a way, she thought, but remembering the ruined island she’d visited yesterday, the decision was obvious. She went to her bedroom, locked the door, and stepped through the mirror.

  On the other side, the Atlantean building full of mirrors was still empty. Victoria walked through the Plaza and to the castle, feeling more confident than she had yesterday. But when she arrived, there was no fire burning in the middle of the ancient Keep, or anywhere she could see. She felt her heart fall.

  The message said to decide tonight, she reminded herself. You’ll have to try again in the evening. For half a second, she wondered if the text message was telling the truth, but she had to have faith. She’d regain control of her future tonight.

  She was just about to leave the castle when she noticed a golden feather resting on the throne. She walked towards it, but when she leaned forward to pick it up, an electric shock passed through her fingers from the cool stone. Closing her eyes, the impulse to try the throne became easier to resist. Victoria took a breath and stepped back, and when she opened her eyes, the orb was in front of her.

  “You knew I would be here early,” she breathed, enchanted. She was sure it was glowing more brightly than before. She lifted her hand and leaned forward, but the orb flared a warning shade of red before she could get too close. Victoria stepped back, understanding perfectly. As much as she wanted to, she could never touch it.