Strangers in Atlantis

by Matt Myklusch

  Someone swam overhead, emptying a sack of glowing crystal pebbles as they passed. A storm of luminous gravel rained down into the canyon, lighting the stage. It’s not a show if the people can’t see it, Dean thought.

  He shook off the pebbles, thankful to get a better look at what he was up against. Cave-sized holes pitted the walls of the trench. Dean watched as giant eel heads peeked out of their hiding spots, one after the other. Their gargantuan, snakelike frames were monstrous.

  Dean was thankful Finneus hadn’t bound his legs. He backed away from the eels as they moved in to get a closer look at him. He got a better look at them too, although he wished he hadn’t. They were downright ghoulish with their green skin, opalescent blue eyes, and nostrils that extended out from their faces in tube-like growths. The eels opened their mouths wide, revealing jagged rows of thin, sharp teeth scattered across their lips. Each one of them had the gap-toothed grin of a sea witch, and looked just as friendly.

  The eels started out fighting among themselves over who would get to eat Dean. As they snapped at each other, he kept trying to get loose, but the ropes remained tight as ever. Eventually, the largest of the eels asserted its dominance over the others and the infighting stopped. The alpha eel struck at Dean, and he barely dodged its attack.

  The people watching above applauded, but Dean had no time to enjoy the crowd’s adoration. Another eel snapped at him. Dean twisted his body in time to avoid its jaws, but the first eel swerved back for a second bite. A third eel zoomed past Dean, spinning him around. A shock rattled his bones as it grazed his skin. Dean realized the canyon’s eels were charged with the same electric energy that split the sky during storms. The group of eels circled him, poised to strike again. He had to get away, but there was nowhere to go. Swim! he told himself. Don’t think, just swim!

  As another eel darted at him, Dean made a beeline for one of the empty holes in the canyon walls. At least, he hoped it was empty. Unable to fight, all Dean could do was flee. He entered the tunnel and swam until he hit a dead end. As he turned to look behind him, the alpha eel was right there. It gnashed its terrible teeth a few short feet away, but Dean was just out of reach.

  The eels might have lived inside the tunnels, but they must have hunted by backing in tail-first and then springing out to chomp at their prey as it swam by. The eels couldn’t seem to reach all the way to the rear of the tunnels when they went in headfirst.

  Of course, that only earned Dean a brief respite from his ordeal—a moment to think, not an escape. What was he going to do?

  He rubbed against the tunnel walls, trying to fray the ropes, but the walls were too smooth to cut them away. He wiggled and writhed until he managed to poke a hand out—the best he could do. Not enough to get free, but it was something. To escape, Dean needed help, and unfortunately, any help he got could only come from one place. He looked into the eyes of the giant chomping eel. It was still lodged in the tunnel, still relentless in its pursuit.

  “I must be crazy.”

  Staying close to the wall, Dean backed down the tunnel, toward the frenzied eel. He had to time this just right. The eel’s jaws came crashing down as expected, and Dean kicked off from the wall as hard as he could, sending himself flying toward the creature. He slammed into the eel’s closed mouth and used his good hand to grab hold of the creature’s long, disgusting nostril. The eel screeched and tried to snap at him, but Dean had flipped upside down, digging his heels in just under the eel’s right eye. Try as it might, the eel could not bite its own nose.

  Dean wasn’t sure how long he could hold on, so he kicked the eel in the eye. It pulled out of the tunnel, recoiling like a snapped line and taking Dean with it. He went flying out of the hole like a cannonball. The crowd roared with delight to see him alive and unharmed, then groaned when he hit the canyon wall. Dean let out a groan of his own.

  “Ow . . .”

  As he fell back from the wall, Dean had no time to lick his wounds. The other eels were already coming for him. He steadied himself for their next assault. This time, he had something different in mind. He had to move, but not until he let one of the eels get in close enough.

  The first eel dove at Dean. He inched back from its monstrous jaws at the last second, but the twisting leviathan rammed into him and sent him twirling around in the water. He went round and round, but when he stopped, the ropes fell away. The crowd erupted with cheers. Dean had used the eel’s teeth to cut the rope. At last, he was on an equal footing with his attackers.

  With his arms free, Dean was graceful and quick in the water, able to match the speed of the eels. They came at him all at once, but he swam circles around them, leading them on a merry ride. He went over, around, under, and through narrow gaps between the eels until three of them had tied themselves together in a knot. The bound eels shrieked and crackled. The crowd up above showered Dean with praise, loving every minute of his performance.

  Dean couldn’t deny feeling a rush himself, but he didn’t want to push his luck. He had given the locals enough of a show. Far more than he had intended, in fact. It was time to make his exit. He looked to the end of the canyon. A long way down into shadows and darkness, he saw more glowing blue eyes blink open. There were too many of them. Breaking free of his restraints wasn’t going to be enough. If he wanted to survive, he needed something more. Think, Seaborne! How did you survive last time you got thrown in the water with a sea serpent?

  Dean snatched the length of rope he had been tied up with. It was just long enough for what he had in mind. He swam deeper into the canyon, and two eels behind him gave chase. Up ahead, more waited. The larger of the two eels behind him—the alpha—shoved the other one aside and caught up to Dean, trying to sink its teeth into him. Dean flipped up out of the way, and as the twisting monster flew by underneath him, he let out the rope, dropping it down before the creature’s gaping maw. He slid it past the teeth until it reached the corners of the eel’s mouth. Dean planted his feet on the back of the eel’s neck and pulled back, holding the rope like the reins of a horse.

  “Here we go, now! Yah!”

  The big eel tried to throw him off, but Dean had done this kind of thing before and with a more tenuous grip. This time around, he had leverage on the eel and was actually able to steer it. Together, they plowed into the mass of other eels, scattering them. Dean directed the alpha to swerve from side to side, clearing the path and pushing its brethren out of the way. They lit up with shocks as Dean went by, but they could do nothing. He was rocketing through the canyon untouched on the back of the biggest, baddest eel in the ocean.

  Despite the danger, Dean couldn’t deny that it was an insane thrill. Waverly must be rubbing off on me, he thought.

  Though the rest of the pack couldn’t catch him, as Dean closed in on the other end of the canyon, the giant eel beneath him found a way to fight back. Why it waited so long to activate its electric current, Dean couldn’t say. Perhaps it had been too angry to think straight earlier. Or perhaps eels just weren’t the smartest of creatures. All Dean knew was that when the electricity traveled into his body, it was like no pain he had ever felt.

  His blood might as well have been on fire, with his heart pumping the flames through his body, beating faster and faster. Dean didn’t know if his heart was going to shut down or burst out the front of his chest, but they reached the end of the canyon, and the eel stopped short. For whatever reason, it would not leave its home, and that fact saved Dean’s life—the sudden stop threw him over the eel’s head and out into the open water.

  He drifted, limp and weightless, as the crowd gave him a standing ovation. He had made it across Lightning Canyon. He was a star, just like Finneus had said. A falling star. He was tired. So tired . . . and everything hurt. Darkness crept around the corners of his vision. A golden figure swam out to catch him as the world around him faded into nothingness.

  Chapter 23

  Change of Plans

  Dean woke up in bed. He was lying on his belly, with his f
ace tucked into a special circular pillow with a hole in the center like a nest. He was locked in position, unable to see anything but the floor below him.

  Wherever Dean was, he was happy to be lying down. It was peaceful and quiet, the lighting was low, and he was out of the water—presumably, far away from Lightning Canyon. That was good. He never wanted to see another eel as long as he lived. Dean’s entire body ached from being electrocuted. His skin felt like he’d been fried up in a sizzling pan, and his back twitched in pain every time he breathed in.

  Someone pushed down hard along Dean’s spine until he heard a loud cracking noise, like a tree branch breaking. He didn’t know what had just happened, but the pain in his back suddenly lessened. He tried to turn around and see who had done him such a wonderful service, but whoever it was pushed his head back down into the pillow.

  “Don’t move,” he heard a woman whisper.

  “WherrrremmmmI?”

  “Shhhh,” the woman said. “Don’t try to talk.”

  “You’re safe,” said another woman. “You were brought back to the city so we could treat your wounds.”

  Dean grunted. “Whooooorrrrrrryu?”

  “The queen’s royal healers,” said the first woman, massaging his back. “Don’t worry. We’re going to take good care of you.”

  Dean nodded, already falling back asleep, safe in the knowledge that he was under the healers’ care. The next few minutes passed for him in jerky time-jumps as he faded in and out of consciousness. His back felt better, but everything else still hurt.

  One of the healers built a low fire on the floor beneath his face, then set a bowl of hot water atop it. Ingredients came next: fragrant herbs, crushed crystals, fine powders, drops of oil. The mixture turned blue-green and white vapors rose off it.

  “Breathe,” one of the healers said. Unable to do anything else, Dean took in the sweet-smelling infusion. The pain in his body faded more and more with each gulp of air. He felt himself breathing out toxins and getting stronger. His senses soon dulled. Dean knew he was lying facedown on the bed, but he felt as though he was floating a foot in the air above it.

  “You were wise to seek the sea god’s blessing before entering the canyon,” one of the healers told Dean. “Had your human frame taken such a shock from the eels, we might not have been able to revive you.”

  “Mer-people are slightly more resistant to electricity,” the other healer said.

  “Slightly,” the first healer stressed.

  They added fresh ingredients to the mixture Dean was breathing in. The aroma changed instantly, along with the sensation within Dean. Now, every time he drew in a breath, he felt his body being lowered back down onto the bed, inch by inch. The fog in his head lifted, and more importantly, his pain was gone. He felt awake and alive.

  Dean propped himself up on his elbows. “What washh that?” he asked the healers, still slurring his words. “Whaddid you do?

  The healers, who he was now seeing for the first time, were two matronly women with blue skin, black hair, and soft, easy smiles. “We did our job,” the first one said. “Nothing more.”

  Dean slipped trying to sit up. He was still weak. The healers smiled and helped Dean turn around to lie on his back. “Don’t push yourself.” One of them propped him up with a pillow. “You need rest.”

  Once he was lying down facing the other way, Dean was surprised to see Duke Shellheart standing at the foot of his bed. The duke looked as cheerful as ever.

  “This young man has been through a lot,” one of the healers told the duke. “If he’s going to make a full recovery, he needs his sleep.”

  “We won’t be long,” Duke Shellheart replied.

  The healers nodded and took their leave. After they left, the duke looked Dean up and down. “You made it. I’m impressed.”

  “You brought me here?” Dean guessed.

  Shellheart nodded. “We needed to be here when you woke up. If you woke up.”

  Dean squinted at the duke. “We?”

  The duke stepped aside to reveal Finneus seated in a chair directly behind him. The sight of the duplicitous young lord made Dean’s blood run cold.

  “You must have a thousand questions,” Finneus said with a smile. “Ask away.”

  At first, Dean couldn’t speak. He was too busy wondering how to get out of the healer’s room alive. Shellheart stood blocking the only exit and Dean was in no condition to push past him. He could barely sit up, let alone stand and fight. If Finneus intended to finish what the eels had started, he was as good as dead.

  “What’s the point?” Dean managed to say at last. “You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”

  “That all depends,” Finneus replied. “I have a few questions of my own first, starting with a man you obviously never met. Galen Fishback. A month ago, I sent him to the surface to hire humans with a very specific set of skills. Tell me, how is it that you came to replace them?”

  Increasingly, Dean understood the situation he and his friends had wandered into. The men on the ship that Skinner had raided, the ones he had forced to walk the plank . . . they weren’t entertainers hired to perform for the queen after all. They had been cutthroats hired to kill her. That was who Finneus had thought Dean, Ronan, and Waverly were when they arrived. Lyndra too.

  “It’s a long story,” Dean said. “Your assassins ran into a bit of trouble on the way here.”

  “Where are they now?”

  Dean shook his head. “They’re not coming.”

  “What are you doing here?” asked Shellheart. “Why did you come to Atlantis?”

  “That much I know already,” Finneus said. “He’s here for his friend Harper. The one in prison.” He leaned forward in his chair toward Dean. “What I don’t know is why you thought I’d want to help you break him out of jail.”

  Dean sighed, wondering how he could have misread the situation so badly. “Last night, you said he could leave with us. This city runs on tourism. Killer humans are bad for business. Those were your exact words.”

  Finneus sat up in his chair. “That’s what you thought we were talking about? Saving my aunt’s blasted human circus?” The young lord pressed a palm against his forehead. “I thought you and your friend were my killer humans.” He looked up at Shellheart. “I keep trusting the wrong people. It’s Fishback all over again.”

  “Fishback,” Dean said, realizing the truth. “You killed him, not Gentleman Jim.”

  “Actually, I killed him,” Shellheart said with a grotesque air of pride. “Lord Finneus needed my help and I was happy to oblige.”

  Finneus shrugged his shoulders, as if some things just couldn’t be helped. “Fishback left us no choice. He was going to tell Captain Lyndra everything. I couldn’t have that. The idea was to pin his death on her, but your friend Harper ruined that by confessing to his murder.” Finneus cast his eyes upward. “Don’t ask me why. I told you, his mind’s not right. Even so, despite the trouble he caused, I was prepared to let you leave here with him, but only after you did what was necessary to put me on the throne.”

  “What was necessary?” Dean asked, disgusted. “You wanted me to kill your aunt just so you could be king sooner rather than later. That’s hardly necessary. And you,” he added, looking at Shellheart. “What do you get out of this? Let me guess. War with Abyssal.”

  Shellheart smiled. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  “It’s going to happen eventually,” Finneus said. “We might as well get on with it. And it’s for the best, really. The Abyssians are so unpleasant.”

  Dean scowled at Finneus. “How can someone who lives on the ocean floor be this shallow?”

  Finneus laughed. “That’s good. You’re very clever. Maybe clever enough to stay useful.”

  “Why are you telling me all this? If you want your crown and your war so badly, you could just take the queen out yourself. You obviously have no qualms about killing. You don’t need me.”

  “Killing a craven turncoat like Fishback is one
thing,” Finneus replied. “Killing the queen of Atlantis is something else entirely. My aunt rules with the divine authority of Poseidon himself. No god-fearing merman would dare raise a hand against her.”

  “That’s why you needed human assassins,” Dean said. “Sorry. I told you, they’re not coming. Ever.”

  “Fortunately for us, we still have you.”

  “I’m not a killer.”

  “I know. You’re a thief. A sneak. Which means it’s not too late to salvage a mutually beneficial relationship. You’ve proven yourself both resourceful and brave. But are you smart enough to make a bargain? Are you willing to do what’s necessary to save yourself and your friends?”

  Dean stared at Finneus and Shellheart for a long moment. As much as he despised the two of them, he had no choice but to hear them out. “I’m listening.”

  “It’s simple. You were going to steal the Blood of Poseidon for your friend Gentleman Jim. Steal it for me instead. If you can do that, no one has to die. Not even the queen. Surely, she told you what the blood does . . .”

  “She did.”

  “Once I drink it, I’ll be the one infused with the sea god’s power. I’ll be the one they fear.”

  At that, Dean could only fold his arms.

  “Can you find your way back into Poseidon’s Chamber or can’t you?” asked Duke Shellheart.

  Dean pictured the chamber in his head. “I can get in.”

  “Good. This should be an easy decision for you,” said Finneus.

  “Helping you overthrow the queen? Starting a war?”

  “What do you care about that?” Shellheart asked.

  “Indeed,” Finneus agreed. “Who’s king, who’s queen? Will it be war or peace? It doesn’t concern you. Before yesterday, you didn’t even know the Mer-Realm existed. After you and your friends leave Atlantis, your lives won’t be affected by what goes on down here, one way or the other.”