Strangers in Atlantis (Seaborne)

by Matt Myklusch

  “She’s out of her mind,” Dean said.

  “You’re just finding that out now?” Ronan asked.

  The band played a long drumroll while Waverly climbed the ladder. The crowd fell silent as the endless rat-a-tat filled the plaza. Dean’s heart inched farther into his throat with every step she took.

  By the time Waverly took her place at the top of the tower, Dean could hardly see her. And, surely, the water tank was no bigger than a coin from Waverly’s point of view. The drumroll stopped, and dead silence followed. Time stood still as Dean hoped Waverly would turn around, refusing to go through with the dive—but he knew it wasn’t in her to back out. Time sped up again as she dove out into the air.

  She fell.

  One hundred feet straight down, she held perfect form as she flew spiraling toward the water. Dean only wished she could fly. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see if she was on course or not. For all Dean knew, her life was already over. He held his breath, praying she would hit the mark.

  She entered the water with the tiniest of splashes, disappearing into the barrel-sized pool in the blink of an eye. Another pause followed, feeling like an eternity.

  Waverly popped her head out of the water with a hand in the air and a smile on her face. The band sounded triumphant horns at the sight of her, and the crowd went wild. Everyone in the plaza, including the queen, got to their feet and lauded her death-defying stunt. As the people stomped and whistled and showered Waverly with applause, Dean finally exhaled.

  He and Ronan ran to the water tank. Waverly was still inside, waving to the crowd and blowing out thank-you kisses, intoxicated by the thrill of the moment. She splashed water playfully at Dean and Ronan as they closed in on her.

  “That was incredible!” Ronan exclaimed.

  “Amazing!” Dean added. He walked around the tank, unable to make sense of what had just happened. “How did you do that? This water isn’t deep enough!”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Dean pushed at the base of the tank. “I don’t understand. Is it resting over a well?”

  “Have a closer look.” Waverly shot her arms out and pulled Dean into the water.

  Before Dean knew what was happening, he was going in headfirst. He fell into the pool, expecting to be smushed next to Waverly, but there was plenty of room. He flipped around easily inside the tank. A wide expanse of water, impossibly deep and infinitely vast, stretched out before him. It seemed to somehow go on forever.

  No wonder Waverly wasn’t worried, Dean thought. It’s more enchanted water, like the Waterways that took us to Atlantis. She knew she was jumping into a portable ocean.

  Dean swam for the surface and emerged to find Ronan laughing at him.

  “I told you I’d be fine,” Waverly said.

  Dean splashed a little water her way. “You knew about this. This water.”

  “They call it DeepWater. And of course I knew about it. I’m not crazy.”

  Dean’s lips curled up in a crooked smile. “Sometimes I wonder.”

  “Bravo!” Finneus said, beaming. “They love you. I knew they would. Look, you even won over Lyndra and Shellheart!”

  As Finneus helped Waverly out of the tank, Dean looked to the royal box. It was true. Captain Lyndra was actually clapping. She seemed pleasantly surprised.

  “You’re a hit,” Dean told Waverly.

  “Truly an awe-inspiring performance,” Finneus said. He turned to Dean. “I think your act is the only one capable of following it!”

  The smile drained away from Dean’s face. “About that . . . Is it really possible for me to go swimming with a sea serpent down here?” He fervently hoped the answer was no.

  “More than possible,” Finneus replied. “It’s perfect. Especially for you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because . . .” Finneus leaned against the edge of the pool and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I know who you really are and what you’re planning to do.”

  Chapter 19

  Partners in Crime

  Finneus refused to say any more in the plaza. “Too many people around. We’ll talk later,” he had said in a voice too low for Dean’s friends to hear.

  After the show, Waverly returned to the palace to put on some dry clothes. Dean and Ronan headed to the public house where they’d agreed to meet Finneus, and the majority of people who had watched Waverly’s dive had similar destinations in mind. As Dean and Ronan walked the streets, they found the city alive with energy. They passed several packed taverns and inns, finally stopping at the largest of them all. The sign above the door read Undercurrents. Loud music and louder voices poured out from within.

  “This is where he wants to meet?” Ronan asked.

  Dean nodded. “This is it. Undercurrents. Certainly sounds like the kind of place where the criminal element would meet up.”

  “Question is, who told him that’s our element?”

  “It’s not our element. Not anymore.”

  “Let’s hope we can convince him of that.”

  They started toward the door. The line of people waiting to get in ran around the corner, but everyone stepped aside to let them pass. People stared in wonder as Dean and Ronan went by. They were celebrities.

  The great room of the tavern was vast and filled with long tables that were packed with people. The barkeeps and serving maids ran around, trying to keep everyone’s glasses full. Dean and Ronan spotted Finneus in the back of the room, waving them over.

  Dean was worried about what Finneus knew and, more importantly, what the young lord was going to do about it. If their cover was truly blown, the smart thing for Dean and his friends to do was cut their losses and run, but they couldn’t do that. Not with Gentleman Jim still in prison and no safe harbor to return to above the sea. Dean didn’t even know how to get back to the surface without help. No two ways about it—he had to meet with Finneus.

  “Maybe he was bluffing,” Ronan said as they walked to his table. “Fishing for information?”

  “Didn’t feel like it,” Dean said.

  “But how could he know we mean to break Gentleman Jim out of prison? We haven’t even told Waverly.”

  “You want to say that a little louder, Ronan? There might be one or two people in here that didn’t hear you.”

  Ronan bit his lip. He had answered his own question—someone must have heard them talking about it back in the palace.

  “We’ve been sloppy since we got here,” Dean said. “Can’t afford that. Let me do the talking with Finneus, all right?”

  Ronan motioned to the young lord of Atlantis, seated at a private table with a pretty young mermaid. “He’s all yours.”

  “There you are!” Finneus called out. “About time.” He turned to the girl sharing his table. “I’m sorry, dear, but duty calls. My human friends and I have important matters to discuss.”

  “You work too hard,” the mermaid replied, pouting as she rose from the table.

  “The work of a minister is never done,” Finneus replied. He motioned for Dean and Ronan to take the vacant seats around his table. “Please, join me. Can I offer you gentlemen a drink?”

  “We’re fine.” Dean sat down. “You didn’t ask us here to drink.”

  “Right to business, then. A man after my own heart.”

  Dean scanned the area around the table. He saw no armored Atlanteans. Despite the looks Dean and Ronan had received from passersby outside, no one at Undercurrents seemed to be paying much attention to them at all.

  Finneus leaned into Dean’s line of sight. “What are you looking for?”

  “Guards.”

  “You won’t find any in here. We still have to watch what we say, of course.”

  “I’m not sure what there is to say,” Dean said. “I don’t know what you think we’re planning to do, but—”

  “Let me stop you right there,” Finneus said, cutting Dean off. “We both know you aren’t world-famous daredevils.”

  De
an put on his best poker face and prayed that Ronan was capable of doing the same. He didn’t have the heart to look.

  “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” Finneus assured them. “This city runs on tourism. Killer humans are bad for business,” he added with a wink.

  Ronan’s back stiffened. “Jim Harper’s no killer. He didn’t murder Galen Fishback. He couldn’t have.”

  “I know that,” Finneus replied.

  Dean and Ronan shook in their seats.

  “That’s why the three of us are talking,” Finneus continued. “I didn’t ask you here to arrest you, if that’s what you’re wondering. Quite the opposite. I’m going to make your job easier.”

  “What?” Dean and Ronan both said at once.

  “You heard me. I want to help you.”

  Ronan leaned over the table. “You mean to tell me you’re actually going to—”

  “Quiet,” Finneus said as a barmaid swooped in with a round of bright green drinks. Ronan clammed up straightaway.

  Dean sat in stunned silence, trying to make sense of Finneus’s offer. The queen’s nephew wants to help us free Gentleman Jim? Am I hearing things?

  “These are on the house,” the barmaid announced, setting down three glasses. “It’s the least we can do. After all, your friends from the surface are the reason we’re so busy. I was worried we wouldn’t have a night like this for quite some time.”

  “And why is that?” asked Finneus.

  “No offense, my lord, but after what happened to Sir Fishback, I simply assumed these shows were done for. We all did.”

  Finneus laughed. “Not to worry, my dear. By this time tomorrow, Fishback’s killer will be a distant memory.” He pointed at Dean. “This one’s going to swim with the eels of Lightning Canyon.”

  The barmaid’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “He wanted it to be sea serpents,” Finneus explained. “I’m afraid that’s easier said than done. Getting a sea serpent in here would be a feat in and of itself. But giant eels, as you know, are native to the area. We can go to them. Far more manageable, really.”

  The barmaid was clearly impressed. “Lord Finneus, I don’t know where you find these people, but you’ve outdone yourself with this batch. Every innkeeper in Atlantis will be singing your praises.”

  “Not mine. Theirs.” Finneus pressed a gold coin into the girl’s palm. “I am but a humble facilitator of culture and commerce.”

  The barmaid thanked Finneus and left the table. Dean squinted at the young lord. “Giant eels? What are you doing?”

  “My job. People expect me to talk about your upcoming performance.”

  “You just said you thought we weren’t daredevils.”

  “I know you’re not,” Finneus said. “We still have to keep up appearances, don’t we?”

  “Stow appearances,” Ronan said. “Explain to me what Gentleman Jim’s still doing in jail if you know he’s innocent.”

  “You think I want him there? The man confessed.” Finneus twirled a finger at his temple. “His mind isn’t right. Nothing I can do for him. All I can do is help you.”

  “By putting me in the water with giant eels?” Dean asked.

  “By putting you right where you need to be.”

  Dean leaned back from the table. “You’ve lost me.”

  “I’ll explain. Have you ever heard of the Blood of Poseidon?”

  Dean thought about it. “Actually, I have. Mookergwog mentioned it back at Aquatica.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He was going on about how Atlantis is home to three of the Seven Great Wonders of the Mer-Realm. The Water Tower, which we’ve already seen. The Magic Mountains, which I expect is the glowing mountain range around the city. And then there was the Blood of Poseidon. But he didn’t say anything more about it.”

  “The Blood of Poseidon is the rarest substance on earth,” Finneus said. “And the most sacred—bestowed upon Atlantis by the sea god himself. It’s why this city is the capital of the Mer-Realm. We keep it in a special chamber beneath the castle, the same place in which we harvest the Heavy Water. Only the queen is allowed to enter. Not even her guards are permitted, but you, Dean Seaborne . . . you will be granted access in the morning.”

  “What for?” Dean asked.

  “To receive the sea god’s blessing. The Blood of Poseidon is a transformative elixir. A single drop turns man into merman and vice versa. Temporarily, of course.”

  Dean’s jaw dropped. “You’re going to make me like you?”

  “It’s tradition. The transformation is symbolic of the queen’s desire to break down barriers. One human from every visiting party gets the chance to experience life through our eyes. Your act makes you the obvious choice—and gives you the opening you need to carry out your plans.”

  The wheels in Dean’s head turned fast. Your plans. Gentleman Jim’s prison was mostly water. If Dean could swim like a fish—as a fish—that changed everything. There were no guards on the ocean side of Gentleman Jim’s cell. They could get Jim out that way. And with help from Finneus, they could get him home. It seemed too good to be true.

  “Why are you helping us? What’s your interest here?”

  Finneus sipped his drink. “I think that should be obvious.”

  Dean studied Finneus. He thought about the packed restaurants, taverns, and inns he and Ronan had passed on their walk through the city. The barmaid had feared that Gentleman Jim’s infamy might drive away customers, or worse, shutter visits from human performers altogether. It was a problem Finneus would surely have loved to be rid of.

  “What about afterward?” Dean asked Finneus. “What then?”

  “After is easy. You get your money and you leave.”

  “With Gentleman Jim,” Ronan stressed.

  Finneus made no objections. “Why not? I’ve no use for the man.”

  “Your people won’t be nervous about an ‘escaped killer’ on the loose?”

  “You’ve seen his cell. People will think he gave up. Wandered into the ocean.” Finneus fluttered his fingers like a minnow riding the current. “Out of sight, out of mind. Extraordinary coincidence that you should know him, by the way. Almost impossible to believe.”

  “I’ve said the same thing fifty times since we got here,” Dean replied.

  “Aye,” Ronan grunted, “now you know how we feel.”

  “What about the girl you’re with? Waverly. Is she a part of this?”

  “She doesn’t know anything about it,” Dean said. “Doesn’t much care to know either.”

  “Fair enough. She won’t hear it from me,” Finneus promised. “In fact, I don’t want to know any more myself. I’ll leave the details up to you two.”

  “Not a problem,” Dean said.

  “Good.” Finneus looked around and spotted the girl he had been talking to earlier. He rose from the table, taking his drink with him. “We’re finished here, gentlemen. You two should get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be an exciting day.”

  Outside the tavern, Ronan could barely contain his excitement. It took everything he had to wait until they were on a quiet street before he grabbed Dean’s shoulder.

  “Seaborne, am I dreaming?” he asked, shaking Dean. “Did that really just happen? Finneus basically said he’d let us walk off with Gentleman Jim!”

  “Easy now.” Dean pushed Ronan off before he broke his shoulder. “Don’t go celebrating just yet. If Finneus is right, I can get through his cell’s water wall with the Blood of Poseidon. That doesn’t help Gentleman Jim get out. After my performance, we’ll need to sneak back into wherever it is they keep the blood and steal an extra dose of the stuff for him.”

  “That ought to be easy enough. Finneus said they don’t let anyone down in the chamber—not even the guards. Just keep your eyes peeled when you’re there with the queen and find us a way in. Nothing to it.”

  “Nothing to it,” Dean repeated. “Assuming I survive the eels.”

  Ronan grimaced. “Right.
Sorry, mate. I forgot about that part.”

  Chapter 20

  Blood from a Stone

  It seemed that only one person in Atlantis didn’t want Dean to swim with the eels. One person other than Dean, that is.

  “Your Majesty, I must object to this,” Lyndra told the queen.

  Dean sighed. Why am I not surprised?

  On the morning of his performance, Dean and Lyndra stood in the throne room with Queen Avenel, her guards, and a collection of royal stewards and handmaids. Finneus had already seen Ronan and Waverly off to Lightning Canyon, where they would watch from the safety of a pod. Dean was the lone human in the room . . . for the moment. Soon, he would grow flippers and gills just like his hosts, but not until after Lyndra had her say. Again.

  The queen was patient in the face of Lyndra’s dissent. “Captain, we’ve been through this already. I would have thought that last night put your suspicions to rest.”

  “About the girl, perhaps,” Lyndra said.

  “Very good. And now we shall give the boy his own turn to prove himself. And what better way than by delivering the sea god’s blessing? It’s one of my favorite traditions. You know that.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty, but—”

  “But nothing,” the queen said. “The rite of transformation represents all that Great Poseidon asks of us. To open our minds and embrace each other’s cultures without reservation. To surrender our narrow viewpoints and see the world with new eyes. The opportunity to do that is what makes Atlantis special.”

  “Queen Avenel, I cherish the tradition as well, but I fear for your safety. This Seaborne—”

  “Is a child,” said the queen.

  “A child who may be involved in a plot against you.”

  Dean couldn’t help himself. “What are you talking about? Finneus said you were suspicious by nature, but this . . . you can’t be serious.”