Strangers in Atlantis (Seaborne)

by Matt Myklusch

  “What a pleasant surprise,” the queen smiled. “Captain Lyndra informed me I had guests, but she neglected to mention they were all so young.”

  “That’s not all she hasn’t told you,” a voice called out from behind them. Dean turned around to see a thick man with a brown beard and the same garb as the soldiers of Neptune, with the addition of a shining golden cape. The man’s temper appeared to rise off him like steam.

  “I expect she also left out the part where her men nearly killed your guests upon arrival.”

  The queen was appalled. “Captain . . . is this true?”

  Lyndra demurred. “Duke Shellheart exaggerates. I was merely questioning these children. They were in no real danger.”

  “No real danger?” Waverly said. “You threatened to drown us!”

  Finneus rose. “I’m afraid that’s true, my queen. Had I not arrived in time . . .”

  The queen looked surprised. “You saved them, Finneus?”

  “I commandeered a platoon of the duke’s men to come to their aid.” Finneus turned to the bearded man who had just joined them. “My apologies, Duke Shellheart. I did not mean to usurp your authority.” Finneus then whispered an explanation to Dean and his friends: “The duke commands our royal navy.”

  Duke Shellheart grunted. “I will overlook it this once. Given the circumstances.”

  The queen aimed a punishing glare at Lyndra. “Explain yourself.”

  Lyndra appeared unfazed. “I was merely doing my duty for the good of Atlantis and the Mer-Realm as a whole. I have . . . concerns about these children.”

  “Based on what evidence?” Finneus asked.

  “I have good reason to believe these children are not who they say they are.”

  “That doesn’t exactly answer my question,” Finneus replied.

  Meanwhile, the hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stood up. What had they done to arouse suspicion already? What detail had they overlooked?

  “What are these reasons of yours, Captain? Tell me,” said the queen.

  Dean held his breath.

  “I’m afraid I cannot divulge that information without compromising an ongoing investigation.”

  Finneus was incredulous. “What investigation? They just got here!”

  Shellheart looked equally shocked. “You would refuse your queen?”

  “In the purpose of protecting her, I must.”

  Shellheart scoffed. “This is outrageous. Your Majesty, if Captain Lyndra were under my command, I would never stand for such insubordination.”

  “I’m not under your command, Duke Shellheart,” Lyndra coolly replied. “I serve at the pleasure of the queen.”

  “I can’t imagine she derives any pleasure from your service. Your behavior is discourteous at best and treasonous at worst.”

  Lyndra turned on the duke with fire in her eyes. “You dare accuse me of treason?” She took a step toward Shellheart, her hand drifting back toward one of her knives.

  “Ahem!” The queen cleared her throat, reminding everyone who was in charge. “I would like to hear from the children, who don’t appear to be much of a threat to anyone. Tell me, are you the world-famous performers we have been told to expect or not?”

  Dean stepped forward. “We are.”

  “And have you ever performed for a royal audience before?”

  Dean nodded. “More than once. As a matter of fact, I was recently booked in the court of the English king. They didn’t want to let me leave.”

  “Wonderful. Tell me, what is it that you do?”

  “What do we do?” Dean’s stomach knotted. “Naturally, you would want to know that. It’s an excellent question, Your Majesty. You honor us with the opportunity to introduce ourselves.”

  “Yes,” the queen said. Dean’s stalling did not go unnoticed. “Go on.”

  “Oh, nothing would please me more. We are . . . a variety show of sorts,” Dean began, glancing at Waverly. “Daredevils!” he added. “A trio of world-class daredevils.”

  The queen was intrigued. “Do tell.”

  Dean beckoned Waverly. “Allow me to present the lovely and talented Waverly Kray. A more fearless cliff-diver you will not find, either above the sea or below.”

  “Is that so?” asked the queen.

  Waverly looked sideways at Dean. “I do jump into things, Your Majesty. That much is true.”

  “From any height,” Dean said. “Nothing fazes her.”

  “My court has never had the pleasure of viewing such a performance.”

  Waverly curtsied before the queen. “It honors me to be the first.”

  Dean tugged on Ronan’s arm, directing him to stand beside Waverly. “Next, we have—”

  “A fighter,” Ronan cut in, pounding a fist into his palm. “I’m a fighter, born and bred.”

  Captain Lyndra chortled. “I highly doubt this boy is worthy of such a title.”

  “I’ll fight anyone, anywhere, anytime,” Ronan countered. “Ronan MacGuire, at your service, Your Majesty,” he added, bowing his head.

  “I look forward to seeing you in action,” said the queen. “And what of you?” she asked Dean.

  “Me? My own meager skills pale in comparison to those of my friends.”

  “Nonsense,” said Waverly. “He’s far too modest, Your Majesty. This one swims with sea serpents.” She patted Dean on the back. “Isn’t that right?”

  “It is.” Dean smiled enthusiastically, trying hard not to glare at Waverly. He had had something much less dangerous in mind for his performance.

  “How exciting,” said the queen, tapping her fingertips together. “Perhaps he’ll be the one to receive Poseidon’s blessing, eh, nephew?”

  “I expect that is what Sir Fishback intended,” Finneus said.

  “Tell me, O tamer of wild sea serpents, what is your name?”

  “Dean Seaborne, Your Majesty,” Dean said with a bow. He wanted to ask what it meant to receive “Poseidon’s blessing,” but the queen had already moved on.

  “Captain Lyndra,” she said. “I realize you are only doing your job, but there is a line between protecting me and embarrassing me. These children are our guests. If they can do all that they have promised, would that quiet your concerns about them?”

  “It would help,” Lyndra allowed.

  The queen aimed a playful smile at Dean. “I believe this is what people in your line of work call a ‘tough crowd.’ You had best live up to your billing, young man.”

  Dean smiled grimly. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “And, when we’re done, will we really be paid in treasure?” Waverly asked.

  “We shall keep our promises as well as you keep yours,” the queen assured her. “Once you have dazzled my people with your rare talents and death-defying deeds, you’ll be granted access to my vault. Do your jobs well, and you’ll be permitted to leave with as much treasure as your little arms can carry. Fear not, I have far more than I could ever hope to spend.”

  “Are you quite sure of that, Queen Avenel?” Finneus asked.

  The queen laughed. “My nephew thinks I’m going to live forever.”

  “One can hope,” Finneus said.

  The queen shifted in her seat. “Poseidon save me from such a fate. Duke Shellheart, Captain Lyndra . . . I expect to see you both at tonight’s performance.”

  The Duke bowed his head. “Yes, my queen.”

  “I will be there,” said Captain Lyndra.

  “Good. Now, if there is nothing else?”

  Ronan tapped Dean’s shoulder. “Ask her now,” he whispered.

  Dean shook Ronan off. “Later!”

  “What is it?” asked Queen Avenel, noticing their hushed squabble.

  “There is one last thing,” Dean said reluctantly. “We were hoping to find someone here. An old friend . . . His name was on the ledger in Aquatica.”

  “What name?” asked the queen, a trace of concern in her voice.

  “Jim Harper,” Ronan said.

  The queen’s eyes
widened. She might have even gasped. Gentleman Jim’s name had an effect on the room, and it was not a good one.

  “We were told he opted to stay here after experiencing Atlantis,” Dean said. He could sense everyone’s apprehension, and his words came out sounding more like a question than a statement.

  “That’s not entirely accurate,” Finneus said.

  “He’s not here, then?” Ronan said, crestfallen.

  “Oh, he’s here. He just didn’t choose to stay . . .”

  “I don’t understand. Just tell me where to find him.”

  “Your friend’s in prison,” said Duke Shellheart.

  Ronan straightened up with a jolt. “Prison! What for?”

  Captain Lyndra’s red eyes targeted Dean, Ronan, and Waverly with renewed vigor. “Murder.”

  Chapter 16

  The Prisoner of Atlantis

  Finneus led Dean and his friends out of the throne room in a huff.

  “Just so we’re clear, if you’re friends with any other notorious murderers in this city, I’d prefer you kept it to yourselves.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dean said. “We didn’t know he was accused of murder.”

  “You should have asked me about your friend in private. Not in front of the queen.”

  “You’re right. We should have waited,” Dean agreed, giving Ronan a shove.

  “How did you say you knew him?” Finneus asked. “Wait. Don’t answer that. Not here.” He eyed the crowded halls of the palace.

  “Can you take us to him?” Ronan asked.

  Finneus sighed. “I might as well. The fish is already out of the net.”

  Gentleman Jim was being held at the outskirts of the city. Finneus led Dean, Ronan, and Waverley to his cell, a one-room stone hut right next to the Heavy Water barrier.

  “In there,” he said, pointing.

  The building was colorless and depressingly small—the entire prison tinier than the room where Dean had been held captive back in Port Royal. His heart went out to Gentleman Jim. “How long has Jim been in there?”

  “When does he get out?” Ronan added.

  “Will he get out?” Waverly added.

  Finneus shook his head. “He was taken into custody a week ago. As for when he’ll be released . . . your friend was convicted of murder. The only way he’s getting out of there is if he swims out.”

  “He’s no murderer,” Ronan said. “I know the man.”

  “Maybe he fell in with the wrong crowd,” Waverly told Ronan. “Made a few bad decisions, trusted the wrong people . . . It happens.”

  Dean didn’t like the way Waverly looked at them when she said that.

  “I don’t believe it,” Ronan said. “I won’t believe it. Not unless I hear it from Gentleman Jim’s own lips.”

  “I expect you will soon enough,” Finneus said. “He confessed to the crime once already.”

  The words hit Ronan like a cannonball to the stomach. “The devil, you say . . .”

  “Surely there’s been some mistake,” Dean said.

  “What’d you do, beat it out of him?” Ronan snarled. “Or maybe it was torture. Is that how you do things down here?”

  Finneus’s expression turned hard. “We did no such thing. Your friend came forward on his own. He hadn’t even been a suspect.”

  Waverly, who knew Gentleman Jim by reputation alone, had less trouble believing Finneus’s version of events. “Why’d he do it?” she asked.

  “He wouldn’t tell us that,” Finneus said. “The victim was another friend of yours. Galen Fishback.”

  Ronan made a face. “We don’t have any friends named—”

  “The man who hired us?” Dean interjected. “We saw him only weeks ago,” he added, frowning at Ronan.

  “You won’t be seeing him again,” Finneus declared. “No one will. Sir Fishback was a good man. The city mourns his loss.”

  Ronan grunted. “I’m sure they do, but still . . . you have to admit there’s something fishy about all this.”

  Finneus raised an eyebrow. “Fishy?”

  “He means it doesn’t make sense,” Dean explained.

  “I mean something stinks,” Ronan said. “Why would he confess to murder but refuse to say why he did it?”

  “You’ll have to ask him,” Finneus suggested. “Good luck with that. Your friend’s a special brand of mystery.”

  They stopped outside the stone hut where Gentleman Jim had been locked up. It was so close to the Heavy Water barrier that the falls came down almost on top of it. Two blue-skinned Atlantean guards, clad in silver armor, stood watch on either side of the prison door.

  “I can only permit you a few minutes alone with the prisoner. I’m sure you understand, a connection between you and our city’s most infamous criminal isn’t something I want to publicize. People will talk.”

  “We understand,” Dean said.

  Finneus snapped his fingers at the guards. “Open it up.”

  The guards unlocked Gentleman Jim’s cell and stepped aside. Ronan, the first in line to enter, paused inside the doorway. “What in blazes?”

  Dean and Waverly peered over Ronan’s shoulder. They were shocked to find the rear wall of the cell was not a wall at all but rather a cascading torrent of Heavy Water.

  “As you can see, this cell is specifically designed to hold a human,” Finneus explained. Before the wall of Heavy Water, a man lay on a cot. He did not bother to turn around and greet his visitors.

  “Did you build this cell just for him?” Dean wondered.

  “Hardly,” said Finneus. “Your friend isn’t the first human to misbehave down here. Just the first one to earn himself a permanent residence. He’ll spend the rest of his days here, assuming he doesn’t opt to cut his sentence short.”

  “Cut his sentence short?” Ronan’s face brightened. “How?”

  “Ronan . . .” Dean motioned at the water. “The only way he’s getting out is if he swims out, remember?” The cell teased its prisoner with an open door at back, testing the prisoner’s desperation.

  “Oh,” Ronan muttered. “That’s cold, mate.”

  “He did kill a man,” said Finneus.

  Ronan grunted. “We’ll see about that.”

  Finneus withdrew and shut the door behind him as Ronan inched toward the man on the cot. The glowing crystal mountains beyond the city limits bathed the room in an undulating blue light.

  “Hello?” Ronan called from across the room.

  The prisoner spoke but did not stir. “Dinnertime already? Let me guess . . . more seafood.”

  “It’s not dinner,” Ronan said.

  The man turned his head around halfway. “Who goes there?”

  Ronan smiled. “I should think you’d recognize the voice of your own first mate. Or did you forget me already?”

  “First mate?” The man stood up—Gentleman Jim Harper. He was alive . . . but not necessarily well. The Gentleman Jim that Dean remembered was a strong, dashing, not-a-hair-out-of-place kind of man. The prisoner before him was scraggly and unkempt. Everything about him was out of place.

  “What are you talking about?” the prisoner demanded. “Who are you? How do you know me?”

  “Is this some kind of joke?” asked Dean.

  “If it is, it’s not funny. Cap’n, it’s me. Ronan!”

  Gentleman Jim strode up to Ronan and leaned in close to examine him. His frantic eyes darted this way and that as he studied Ronan’s face.

  “Seaborne . . . ,” Ronan said, visibly uncomfortable.

  Gentleman Jim’s eyes shot upward. “Seaborne?” He looked at Dean as if Dean too were a stranger. He stared for a brief second, then shook his head and turned back to Ronan. The man seemed to be racking his brain, searching for some spark of recognition that refused to appear.

  “No,” he said at last. He turned away calmly, then erupted. “Blast it all!”

  Gentleman Jim kicked the little cot he had been resting on. It went flying into the watery fourth wall of his cell, where the fa
lls swept it away. Immediately regretting his outburst, Gentleman Jim balled a fist, seething. Dean, Ronan, and Waverly traded baffled looks, wondering what to say or do next. Gentleman Jim whirled on them.

  “You’re from the surface, like me,” he said. His tone sounded like an accusation. Everyone nodded, open-mouthed. “This isn’t some kind of trick . . . ,” he continued. “You actually know me?”

  A stilted breath rattled out of Ronan. “A trick? What are you . . . Of course we know you!”

  Gentleman Jim nodded. “All right. Tell me.” He motioned with his fingers like a man asking to be punched in the face. “Tell me who I am.”

  The room got deathly quiet. Ronan looked at Dean, dumbfounded.

  “I’m confused,” said Waverly. “Is it him or not?”

  “It’s him,” Dean said, though he was no less confused than she was.

  “Who?” Gentleman Jim demanded. “Come on, out with it!”

  “You’re Gentleman Jim Harper,” Dean blurted out. “Captain of the Reckless and leader of the Pirate Youth.”

  Gentleman Jim blinked his eyes open. “A pirate? Really?”

  “Of course, really!” Ronan said.

  “I was a bad guy?”

  Ronan looked offended. “Not at all. You were the only honest thief in the Black Fleet.”

  Gentleman Jim’s eyes were the size of boiled eggs. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t you remember? It was you who thought up the Gentleman’s Code.”

  “The what?”

  “Your code! You made sure we only stole from people who could afford it, people who deserved it, or both.”

  “And I thought that made me a gentleman?” Gentleman Jim asked. He looked up at the ceiling. “That’s got to be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Ha!” Waverly laughed. “Thank you.”

  “You were all part of my crew?” Gentleman Jim asked.

  “I wasn’t,” Waverly said. “I came later.”