by A. L. Knorr
“The gods must be very angry. It’s coming from the direction of Atlantis,” Sisinyxa said, turning to peer up at Ajak. His strong jaw cut sharp angles against the still bright blue sky of the west. “Do you think they are all right?”
Ajak frowned. “I should say not. Perhaps the fools finally killed themselves with their avarice. Come.” He took her by the hand.
Ajak and Sisinyxa ushered the crowd of watching Mer into the cracks within the mountain, descending until they were deep within the rock. Some stayed within the caves, while others went out through the tunnels to the sea floor to watch from the bottom. Down this far, they were still well protected. Whatever was happening overhead, the Mer would wait it out.
As Sisinyxa followed her people down, I was overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of her citizens, and not just the total number of Mer but the number of tritons. Sirens and tritons in equal number, children of both genders––swinging between their parents as they descended, or clinging onto their parents’ backs. There were babies also, and it began to dawn on me that these children had been born here. That meant they had Mer fathers.
The crowds dispersed into their underwater life, under orders from Sisinyxa not to surface until she gave them permission. She did not even send a scout to climb to the top of Califas for a full twenty-four hours, for fear of the power of the storm they’d seen approaching. There was a moment where even deep within Okeanos, a roaring sound like a great angry dragon belching fire had passed overhead. All the water shifted, sucking those Mer along the ocean floor at first toward the east then back to the west, like it couldn’t make up its mind which direction it wanted to go. It did this multiple times, at first with increasing power, which alarmed the Mer. But just when the citizens began to mumble among themselves about these waves passing through their territory, the frequency and power of the shifting waters began to ease, until they stopped altogether.
The world went blurry again, this time coming into focus on a beach on Mount Califas.
Sisinyxa stood on the beach, watching a dozen bobbing heads approach in the water. They looked at first like seals, just the tops of their heads visible. As their feet struck bottom they stood and waded onto the beach. Atlanteans, their gills just closing up and smoothing over as they took in the fresh air. The webbing between their fingers retracted until the flesh between each digit was no different from that of humans. Their feet were already in full human form by the time they were kneeling on the sand in front of Sisinyxa and Ajak.
Nestor was among them, as was Renlaus. Sisinyxa narrowed her eyes at Renlaus, who had clearly given away the secret of Okeanos’s location to his fellow Atlanteans. She felt deeply betrayed and foolish for having trusted Renlaus, but she could not have accomplished what she wished to inside Mount Califas without an Atlantean partner, so she’d been forced to trust someone.
Renlaus bowed his head in shame and would not look her in the eye. There were bruises across his ribs on one side and his lower lip was cracked and swollen. She wondered if Renlaus had felt he had no other choice, given the catastrophe that must have befallen Atlantis, or if he had been coerced.
“My Queen,” Nestor said, bowing his head so low to the beach that when he lifted it to look up at her, his forehead was coated with sand. “Oh, my Queen. A great calamity has befallen us! Atlantis is no more. In one day, the gods wiped out our great city, angry with the people for their dens of iniquity, their greed, and their war-mongering ways. I tried to warn them! We did not partake. We are the innocent and in need of your mercy and grace. Surely the gods wish for you to bestow your hospitality upon us!”
Sisinyxa’s skin crawled at this display. she felt no leader should ever embarrass himself in this way at any time, allowing himself to appear so weak in front of his inferiors.
Nestor continued to wail with great drama and fervor, tears streaming down his face. He remained on his knees and lifted his hands into the air as though worshipping Sisinyxa. “Only you can save us, we beg you. Give us a safe haven, allow us into the safety of your bosom. Sanctuary, Mistress, sanctuary!” he cried, and the other Atlanteans began to take up the call.
“Silence!” Sisinyxa shouted, and I could feel the rising repulsion in her breast at the approach these Atlanteans had taken. With all her heart she wished for them to stand and speak to her like normal, respectable men and women. She might even have ordered food to be brought to the beach and requested them to tell the story of Atlantis’s destruction.
Nestor did not fall silent, and following his lead with gusto, neither did the other Atlanteans.
“Disaster, oh disaster!” Nestor wailed, bowing down to the sand yet again. “We are homeless, we have lost everything. Tens of thousands of Atlanteans have been lost. Only we remain. Only we have survived.”
Sisinyxa’s patience was wearing thin and she began to back away from the group of survivors, uncertain how to treat these people who appeared to be on the edge of hysteria. The Atlanteans’ expressions were haggard, tormented. Their eyes rolled, and some had foam at the corners of their mouths. Their appearance seemed somehow intended to be unsettling, and that was exactly how Sisinyxa felt.
As she backed up, Nestor crawled forward on the sand, wailing ever louder, followed by the Atlanteans, who did exactly as he was doing, including Renlaus.
“Restrain them,” Sisinyxa shouted to the Mer.
Immediately, fifteen of her people jumped forward, both Foniádes and tritons, some wielding spears. A line of spears and forks were stabbed into the ground in front of the Atlanteans to stop them from advancing, and behind the spears, a line of tritons and Foniádes stood tense, awaiting orders from their Sovereign.
Sisinyxa was breathing heavily. Her face was hot with fury, both at the betrayal of Renlaus and the behavior of the Atlanteans.
“My love.” Ajak came to her side and took her hand, pulling her away from the crowd. “Say the word and we will send them away, but remember the storm. If we could feel it at the very depths of the ocean, imagine what it was like for them.”
“They did not come here with peace in their hearts,” Sisinyxa hissed. “Yes, they are desperate, I can see that. But Nestor is humiliating himself with his desperation. Look at his eyes. He has not lost his wits, he’s an opportunist to the bitter end. Look at Renlaus, do you not see the abuse he endured? I know what is happening here. They mean to prey on my goodwill and sympathy, to be allowed entry. But I know that man.” Her fiery gaze cut to Nestor, still whimpering and begging behind her line of defense. “He will stop at nothing when he sees what we have. It is already too much that he knows where we are. I should have him killed, along with Renlaus and the rest of them.”
At this, Ajak paled. Nevertheless, all he said was, “Give your order, Sovereign. We will obey.”
Sisinyxa stood there on the beach, her fists clenched, her heart in a rage. Even the Atlanteans began to grow quiet as they realized that their begging and crying and show of trauma had not immediately gotten them what they wanted.
Nestor came close to the spears then, wrapping his fingers around two of them, sliding around the metal the way a python slides around its victim before squeezing the life out of it.
“Sisinyxa” he whispered acidly, “after all I’ve done for you…”
He got no further, for Sisinyxa marched forward on the sand.
“You are not welcome here,” she shouted. “You are hereby banished from these islands and these waters. Go! Depart with our wishes that you make a new home elsewhere in the world’s vast oceans and coastlines, and prosper.”
Inside Sisinyxa, a battle raged of woman versus Sovereign. She wanted to tell them that she was sorry for whatever they had been through, truly sorry for the loss of their city and their families. But she could not show any weakness. Certainly, she could not show Nestor any crack in her ultimate purpose of keeping Okeanos safe.
“If you are not gone from our mountains by nightfall tomorrow, you will be hunted down and executed. You may hunt for food on
your way out, but you may never return upon pain of death. Now, go!”
At first, the Atlanteans did not respond; they seemed frozen as Sisinyxa’s words died out. Nestor’s expression went from pale shock to a cold rage. He snorted deep in his throat and spat a gob of saliva between the prongs of the spears before turning and straightening in front of his people.
The Atlanteans took on the expressions of those whose game was up. Gone were their tears and wailing, gone was their bowing and scraping. Gone was the display that now was so obviously pure theater. They returned to the water’s edge and waded into the waves.
Nestor, the last to enter the water, looked back over his shoulder at where Sisinyxa still stood on the beach, surrounded by Mer. His last words before he sank into the Atlantic were said so softly that only the ears of a Mer could have possibly heard them.
“You’ll regret this.”
Twelve
The images blurred again and settled with Sisinyxa on one of the lower, broader peaks of Mount Califas. Sisinyxa and several of her Foniádes had been drawn from the interior of Mount Califas by screams in the distance. Her heart was thrumming in her chest and a low tide of panic edged beneath her calm. Ajak and many of the tritons had gone to the south to quell a skirmish with a surprisingly large Atlantean force.
A storm to the North had left the Mer in Califas feeling somewhat protected, but it had been an error in judgement. Even Sisinyxa, who knew Nestor’s ire might never die, had allowed herself to lower her guard just a little. After all, it had been years since the confrontation on the beach.
Ships emerged from the belly of the storm like a vengeful spear cast by the gods. The lead ship drove through the waves, the deadly point plunging toward Mount Califas, followed shortly by a dozen more. They were coming, dark hulls cutting like blades, organized, deadly. Flying from the lead ship’s towering mast was a crest Sisinyxa recognized––a lion with six legs––Nestor’s crest.
“So, he has finally returned,” one of the Foniádes flanking Sisinyxa said, her tone sharp. “You were right to make us train harder than we have ever trained before, Sovereign.”
Sisinyxa might have smiled at her loyal Foniádes, who even in the face of death believed in her Queen. Instead, she barked, “Send two of your fastest for Ajak. Now!”
The sirens in their prime were equipped to fight, and the Foniádes were fiercer than ever before, but against the army and weapons Nestor had somehow mustered over the years, they would need all the tritons. It was clear now that the Atlantean incursion to the south had been a diversion to draw their best fighting force away from Califas.
Nestor’s ship was already nearing the spit of land that formed the shore of Mount Califas. Sisinyxa couldn’t see Nestor himself amongst the ranks of Atlantean warriors leaping from the ship, but she knew he was there. She raised her gaze from the lead ship to the dozens more spreading across the islets like a black, barbed net.
Sirens were caught in that net, outnumbered and outmaneuvered. Even so, they fought. She snatched up a spear and her palm found the handle of the blade at her side.
“Sovereign, to the caves!” someone called behind her, but she was already making for the cliff face. Leaping from the ledge––feeling the wind whistle across her face––she dove into the lagoon below.
The Atlanteans had a foothold on the beach before she even emerged from the water. Forming a rough battle line, they stood shoulder to shoulder with spears at the ready. Their voices raised in a chanting call, setting the tempo for their advance. They trudged forward in unison as a trio of sirens turned for a last stand, claws flexed and teeth bared, two wielding spears and one a short, two-edged sword. The brave Mer pounced, but before they could even reach their enemies, spear thrusts drove them to the sand, dead or dying.
The bronze points gleamed red in the sun as Sisinyxa pulled her own blade and charged, Foniádes falling in behind. Despite the furious haze threatening to swallow her, a plan was forming in her mind. It was desperate and reckless, but it was all she had against the sudden onslaught.
“Drive through them and into the water!” Sisinyxa screamed to be heard over their battle chants.
The Atlanteans braced their spears to be leaped upon in the manner of other Mer who had already fallen. Instead, Sisinyxa darted in low, zig-zagging beneath their confused thrusts, to stab with spear and then hack with sword. Close packed as they were, their spear shafts cracked and rattled against each other as they fought to bring the long weapons to bear. The Foniádes, following her example, found the confused knot of warriors easy to dispatch.
Sisinyxa struck out with her blade, parting a haft in one stroke, and then drove her heel into the Atlantean’s chest. He crashed into his comrades with bone-snapping force. Now she had a clear line to the sea.
“Move!” she roared and raced over the wet sand.
One look over her shoulder confirmed her remaining Foniádes were following. Dozens of Atlanteans would never rise, but at least four of her guard had joined them on the red sand.
Then she was leaping the crest of a wave and plunging into the welcome cool of the sea. Her transformation ripped across her body almost painfully, her tail powering her through the rolling riptides. Her own strength thrummed and pulsed as she took her aquatic form and she felt something like hope.
She intended to turn her Foniádes to strike the Atlantean line along the rear. Like a darning needle they would weave in and out, breaking the Atlanteans. She hoped to rout the invaders before Ajak and his tritons even returned.
Then she looked beyond the receding slope of the beach and her heart clenched in her chest.
Hundreds more Atlantean warriors filled the incoming tide, ranging out like murderous schools of fish. No sirens dared fight them here, instead they used their greater underwater speed to escape. The Atlanteans moved with coordinated effort, cutting off and herding those they could not catch. Outmaneuvered and outflanked, the sirens fell to a flurry of thrusts and cuts that darkened the seas with clouds of red. The shallow water was a churning, boiling mass of froth and foam. Those Atlanteans not dispatching the sirens were advancing toward the beach to reinforce their allies on the land.
Her plan to perforate the Atlantean line was pointless now. After the next charge, the enemy would be too well placed.
She faced her Foniádes and saw them straining against the desire to rush out and fight. The blood in the water called to them, and their bodies answered back. Their eyes were a solid, hungry black, and their lips peeled back to reveal teeth grown into nests of jagged fangs. Their skin reflected a dull gray tone in the wave-filtered sunlight, as long, powerful tails swept side to side to hold their bodies steady.
One of them gestured sharply toward a dark cleft in the rocky shelf that flanked the shallow beach area. She wanted Sisinyxa to retreat. Shaking her head, Sisinyxa powered toward the Atlanteans moving to encircle fleeing Mer, her spear outstretched. The Foniádes followed.
The Atlanteans were now coming from below, their course meant to cut down the Mer as they dove, heading toward the mouths pitting Mount Califas. Left unchecked, the Atlanteans would rise among the sirens and slaughter them before they even knew what had happened. Sisinyxa and her Foniádes descended on the hunters and returned the favor.
Fighting underwater made slashes and hacks with a weapon ineffectual, but the piercing point of a weapon, especially driven by a Mer moving at full speed, was absolutely lethal. The Foniádes fought like blood-mad terrors, venting their wrath in explosions of violence that left Atlanteans maimed or dying wherever they went. The Atlantean hunting pack dissolved into a few stragglers desperately swimming in any direction to escape their shark-skinned destroyers. None of them made it very far.
The group of sirens had just cleared the carnage when a hard, metallic clank sounded through the water and a rush of something hurtled toward Sisinyxa. A glinting missile sailed inches from Sisinyxa’s face.
Tracing the trail of bubbles, she saw three pairs of Atlanteans e
ach holding a strange tube of metal between them. A third Atlantean drove what looked like a spiked mallet into the tube and the same series of sounds heralded another trio of harpoons streaking toward them. Two passed harmlessly between them, but one gouged a nasty line across the scalp of one of the Foniádes.
They needed to make for the caves, now.
She signaled the retreat and the Mer dove for the cave entrance as more harpoons began to hurtle between them. Slipping inside one after the other, they swam single-file through the narrow veins, hoping that the disorienting network would swallow the Atlanteans who––not knowing where they were going––would be lost for hours. After she emerged in a large cavern into which Mer were pouring from two other doorways, Sisinyxa’s tail rent again and she climbed from the water.
“Report,” she called as more Foniádes and sirens emerged from the entry pool to the chamber chosen for this purpose. This cave had fewer entry points than most of the caverns of Califas––there were only three ways in or out. Sisinyxa strode over to a table where several sirens stood looking at maps which displayed Okeanos both above and below.
“We managed to seal most entrances,” answered one of the Foniádes. The silver hair running along the ridge of her shaved skull was tinted pink with blood. “But not all of them. Atlanteans seized several and even now they are pouring into the tunnels and subterranean river networks.”
Sisinyxa frowned and chewed her lip with nervous energy. The interconnected waterways and passages, while long and convoluted, offered countless way to strike at the heart of Califas. If the attackers had been fewer in number, she could send Foniádes and her fiercest sirens out to meet and stop the Atlantean penetration. But there were so many. It was dizzying, the force Nestor had gathered.