The Book of the Sea (Vesik 11)

by Eric Asher

  “Lewena poisoned their minds,” Nixie said. “She tried to turn a great many of them against us when she wouldn’t see reason.”

  “Reason?” Shamus said with a small laugh. “You yourself would’ve thought your actions insane a mere millennia ago. Give or take.”

  There was truth in Shamus’s words. And it galled Nixie to remember those times. She still had memories she would consider good of drowning commoners, murdering them. But those memories churned her stomach now, even as she remembered her friends from the past. Times had changed. She repeated the thought out loud. “Times have changed.”

  “I would not argue that fact, my Queen,” Shamus said. “If I could see a way for you to take the Eye without a conflict, I would gladly give it to you. I believe our people have been left too long in the past, in times so poorly remembered they are more legends now than fact.”

  “There is a great deal of hatred to be overcome,” Nixie said. “Even among the Fae, we’ve grown intolerant.”

  “That intolerance has lived among the Fae longer than you have been alive. The fact we survive on the same magic, the same blood, matters little to those who see nothing but our differences. And now you wish them to become allies with those who are truly other. Commoners and wolves and vampires. They are not Fae. They are something else.”

  Nixie blew out a breath. “The Unseelie Fae have made themselves known again. They came hunting an artifact in Kansas City. Attacked the werewolves there, and even engaged the death bats of Camazotz.”

  Shamus gave a small nod of his head. “If any Fae was to make that kind of shortsighted attack, I would assume it would be the Unseelie.”

  “Nudd has allied with them,” Nixie said.

  “That should surprise no one,” Shamus said. “If half of what you say about Gwynn Ap Nudd is true, the philosophies of the Mad King are the ideals of the Unseelie Fae.”

  It made a horrible kind of sense to Nixie. Nudd’s words could rally the darkest parts of Faerie. “I’ve seen the Unseelie cities.”

  “Then you know how they crush outsiders,” Shamus said. “And those they consider outsiders are practically their brothers and sisters. Imagine them unleashed against the commoners.”

  The crevasse narrowed and they started walking single file, with only a dim golden light to show them the way.

  “I think they have an idea.” Nixie closed her eyes for a moment and then focused on the light ahead of them. “Nudd stole their most powerful weapons and unleashed the eldritch against the commoners.”

  “He released eldritch? On the commoners?” Pace asked. “That doesn’t seem like a sound strategy.”

  “They are easily panicked.”

  “I would not say the loss of one’s most powerful weapons is an easy panic,” Shamus said. “That would appear to be a logical response to me, if an unwanted one.”

  “And what would you have them do?” Nixie asked. “You’ve seen enough of war in your time, I’m sure.”

  “It is why you find us here,” Shamus said. “Hidden away in the ruins of a long forgotten city. I have no need of war. I have no need of killing.”

  Shamus’s words made Nixie wonder if he was already aware of the changes she’d tried to make among the water witches or if it was only a coincidence they shared a view on violence. Tiring of the old ways was certainly not a foregone conclusion. The sheer quantity of Lewena’s followers had proven that to Nixie.

  “What have you been told about me?” Nixie asked.

  “Many things,” Shamus said. “And many I hope are true. But surely you must wonder if the very nature of our people can change? Our history is not a peaceful one, my Queen. Regardless of what either of us may feel, I’m afraid you cannot escape this challenge. Powerful you may be, the undines here know the old city better than you. To forgo the old ways would be a poor choice. You will not escape Atlantis without a battle.”

  Nixie smiled in the shadows where no one else could see her. “You need not mistake my intentions. This isn’t a confrontation I’d walk away from. And should I lose, give my crown to the victor so they can take their rightful place as the ruler of our people.”

  “Have you both lost your minds?” Pace asked. “You’ve either gone as mad as the king, or the witches have truly left the worst of them behind.”

  “Strange times,” Nixie said.

  Shamus nodded. “Strange times indeed.” They walked in silence for a few minutes, boots occasionally dragging through the silt of the ocean floor and other times floating above it. A brighter light shone at the end of the tunnel before Shamus continued.

  “You won’t be able to steal the Eye,” he said.

  “I have no intention of stealing it,” Nixie said. “As I already said.”

  “Of course. But even if you did, it would be impossible to find.”

  “You don’t know where it is,” Nixie said. She wondered if perhaps Shamus or even Pace had come to Atlantis looking for the Eye. Or if their motives were as benign as they made it sound. Either way she wasn’t getting out of the city without a fight. Perhaps it was time for them to understand just how much she knew.

  “The Eye of Atlantis lies beneath the roundtable in the Temple of Poseidon.” Nixie’s smile grew. “Two rulers before Lewena, she hid it there.”

  Shamus eyed her. “Perhaps you’re the queen after all.”

  “I don’t need your approval.”

  Shamus turned to face her.

  Nixie didn’t let him interrupt. “And I don’t need your permission. You may be an elder, you could even be from the line of kings thought lost thousands of years ago. But whatever that truth is, you gave up your right to rule. You left your people, left us divided to suffer and find our own way. And here, in the end, we’re better for it.”

  “A queen indeed,” Shamus said, his shoulders relaxing. “May your duel end favorably. And now,” he said as he stepped aside, “look upon the city that should be yours once more.”

  Nixie was ready for a sharp reply, but as she stepped out of the tunnel and into a massive section of what once was the center island of Atlantis, she fell into a dead silence. Nixie stared out past the floating lanterns and the warm golden glow they cast onto a city that had been reborn. The walls of the entire cavern from the floor to thirty feet up had been coated in the brilliant golden sheen of orihalchum. She’d seen the commoners use it to strike coins for trade before, but quantities like this were only found in Atlantis.

  Every pillar, every doorway, had been polished until it glowed. The Fae lights reflected off of them like a distant firework, and Nixie felt like she was once more stepping into her home. It was something she’d rarely felt since the city fell. And certainly not a feeling she’d had for any mere structure.

  “That’s impossible,” Nixie whispered. “It’s like someone just pulled it from the surface and set it here. It’s nothing like the ruins we came in through.”

  “That it is most assuredly not,” Shamus said. “If you would’ve found this place when you visited in the past, it would’ve looked just as demolished as the outer ruins. We spent a great deal of time cleaning it up.”

  Nixie shook her head. “This is more than cleaning up. The plating on the stones has been restored. It looks no different than when I lived here. Other than being underwater, of course. What magic did this?”

  “Old magic,” Shamus said. “Our magic. Though some might say the magic you wish to take away from this place.”

  Nixie turned to Shamus and frowned. “You’re telling me you did this with the Eye of Atlantis? When you don’t even know where it is?”

  Shamus shook his head. “No, my Queen. This is the magic the undines believed lost long ago from the line of kings. Think of the power of our healers. It was never the kings. That magic has always lived inside every undine, ready to be unlocked. But you have to understand, we don’t want to rule. If that means we have to stop drowning a few commoners … most of us will obey. But the others …” He shook his head. “We can’t tel
l the others who we are. We simply told them that the magic was drawn from the Eye. It seemed a simple enough lie at the time, but now I’m afraid it may have complicated your plans somewhat.”

  “It wouldn’t be a plan if it actually panned out,” Nixie muttered.

  Shamus grinned. “Of that we can agree.”

  Nixie turned away from Shamus, to the city reborn. In the distance, almost like a painting beneath the waves, stood a silver citadel. Golden finials rose up and crowned the Temple of Poseidon. They must have dragged the broken finials in from the old ruins where Nixie had seen them so long ago.

  “The arena for duels is not far from the temple, if you would like to take a closer look,” Shamus said.

  Nixie nodded.

  In silence, they started down the central path that led to the temple, each step crossing over tiny stones that formed the countless mosaics telling a history most of the world had forgotten.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Nixie stood in the entryway to Poseidon’s Temple. If she’d had no memory of the last thousand years, she could have believed she was standing inside an undamaged Atlantis. Everything was as it always had been. Other than the occasional fish swimming by.

  Her eyes traced the pillars and supports up to the ceiling, shot through with gold, silver, and orichalcum. The roof of the temple had been carved from ivory, long before the commoners had slaughtered enough animals to endanger almost every one that could be harvested for ivory.

  Spread out before them, swimming in gold, were hundreds of water witches. They rode upon dolphins as if they were innocent children and not the war dogs of Poseidon. And speaking of the god of the sea himself, he rode upon a golden chariot, looming above his water witches, his nereids.

  But that was a sight from time immemorial, a legend passed down from generation to generation until it found its way into the commoners’ own lore. If Poseidon had been a true king, he died and faded away, or abandoned his people. In either case, his story lived on, both in the traditions of the water witches and the myths of the commoners.

  But there was more to the Temple of Poseidon than even many of the water witches themselves knew. Nixie walked past the opulent dolphins and the glorious witches that rode upon them. Each was carved with detail so intricate one might mistake them for a living being, other than the fact they were solid gold.

  Nixie passed beneath the shadow of Poseidon’s chariot until she reached the rear wall of the temple. She glanced back at Shamus, who offered no expression. But Pace looked confused. It told Nixie much about the dynamic between the two. Shamus knew exactly what she was doing, but Pace had no idea of the chamber that was hidden beyond.

  Nixie’s right hand grew translucent and slipped into the crack in the great mosaic of Atlantis. She found the mechanism easily enough, twisted her hand until the handle shifted, and the intricate gearing in the wall clicked into motion. There was a brief rumble, and a small section of the mosaic, barely large enough for a commoner to walk through, sank into the ground.

  “What the hell is that?” Pace asked.

  Nixie turned back to the passage. “This is where the old kings and queens ruled from and met with their lords and ladies. A safe place, away from prying eyes.” She floated forward, letting her hand return to a solid pale flesh color. Dim shadows obscured the room until she crossed the threshold.

  Fairy lights burst into golden life. The room was plain, almost unfinished compared to the rest of the temple. But this had never been a place to inspire awe, this was a place where work was done. The massive stone table sat in the center of the room, a simple circle with a complicated rune etched into the surface.

  But something was new, and Nixie froze when she saw the stone shelves overflowing with books thought long destroyed.

  “From the library?” she asked, eyes widening as she turned back to the tunnel.

  Shamus entered the room behind her, followed by Pace.

  “They are,” Shamus said. “Many books at the old library were warded against damage. Even now, under the sea for over a millennium, they survive.”

  Nixie ran her finger down one of the spines as she read the title aloud. “Leviticus Aureus and the Fall of Atlantis.” She gave a humorless laugh. “I suppose it’s only right to have brought one of those here.”

  “It’s one of the few true tellings about what happened,” Shamus said. “I thought it should be preserved.”

  Some of the volumes were written entirely in runes and languages Nixie wasn’t familiar with. Damian would have loved to see these. Nixie’s hand curled into a fist.

  Damian will see them.

  Nixie turned away from the books. “Lewena knew the Eye was here, but she didn’t know more than that. She was never one to believe in the power of a level field, or apparently in what one could learn from books and maps she inherited as queen. She only came here looking for the Eye. Thought it would help unite the water witches, convince them to leave Faerie, but that was a fool’s gambit.”

  “Some would call uniting the water witches a noble cause,” Shamus said.

  Nixie traced the ancient knotted rune with her index finger. Each seat around the table had a different meaning, a different station in the society of the undines. Even when they tried to show equality by not having a head of a table, they separated everyone, labeled them.

  “You rebuilt this room didn’t you?” Nixie asked, looking up to Shamus.

  Shamus inclined his head. “And you’ll find no Eye here. The table itself was broken in half before we repaired it.”

  “You misunderstand,” Nixie said. “I suspect Lewena did too.” But Nixie understood as soon as she saw the rune carved into the table. It looked like something Ward would do, only this was far older than the warded man.

  Nixie reached out with the gauntlet on her left hand, hovering over a line of runes that almost looked haphazard, and nothing like the intricate Celtic knot that sat on a gray metal disc at the center of the table. But the runes reacted. A silver glow rose, like tentacles of light brushing the gauntlet.

  “It needed a key,” Shamus said.

  “Of a sort,” Nixie said, pulling her hand back. “If I lose this duel, I want you both to promise me something.”

  “We don’t owe you anything,” Pace said.

  Nixie smiled. “Then do not do it for me. Do it because you wish to live here in peace. Do it because you want Faerie to survive the coming war.”

  “My Queen,” Shamus said. “What would you have us do?”

  “This gauntlet is the key. The Eye does not rest here. It is in another world, another plane of existence, that you can only reach with this gauntlet. It’s what the symbols on the table mean. I never would have understood that until I met a man some time ago.”

  Shamus backed away a step. “The gauntlet only works if you wear the crown.”

  Nixie nodded.

  “You’re asking us to wear the crown?” Pace asked.

  “The things you’ve said, I believe you were both men of peace. Ready for a change among our people. So yes. Should I die, I would like one of you to take the crown. Crush the spirit from the remnants of Lewena’s people if you must. But if we do not find peace with the commoners, and the rest of Faerie, I fear not many would survive the coming storm.”

  Shamus made a disgusted noise. “Then you best not die, Queen. I rid my family of that cursed crown long ago. And I have no intention of taking it back.”

  Nixie offered the old undine a smile. “We all change, Shamus. All of us.”

  “We need to get to the arena,” Pace said. “Your duel starts soon.”

  “How do you tell time here?” Nixie asked. “I have no sun to go by, and no mortal watch would survive these depths.”

  Pace shrugged. “The lights change.”

  Nixie frowned and looked at the fairy lights around the room. They’d grown more yellow since they’d entered. Perhaps Nixie had grown too used to the commoners’ electricity. She thought they were merely warming up, not
marking the passage of time.

  “It’s not far,” Shamus said as he led them out of the hidden room.

  Nixie flexed her hands into fists, and the glowing runes faded as she stepped away. She looked once more at the old tomes lining the walls. The other water witches needed to know Atlantis was here. They needed to know they could go home again. But Damian couldn’t. Damian was still trapped in the Abyss, and these witches were keeping Nixie from helping him.

  A fight was coming. And the rage in Nixie’s gut almost sang for it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The arena, as it was called, was small by the standard of most arenas Nixie had seen in her life. It wasn’t a full half circle, and there were only about twelve rows of stone seats leading to the top. Each row was carved from a curved section of marble and evenly spaced between one of three sets of stairs.

  But the fact the arena wasn’t large didn’t mean it wasn’t full. Water witches and blue men shared the stands, intermingled with no obvious division between who was there to support Nixie, and who rooted for Deirdre.

  Nixie’s opponent stood at the base of the arena called the orchestra. Deidra waited there, a half step below the pulpit that Shamus had led her in on. Nixie’s armor might have been better, as it was the armor of the queen of the undines, but Deidra’s would do its job.

  Intricate battle scenes and one of the small round flags that marked Lewena’s followers adorned Deidra’s breastplate. The flattened metal gave a sharp line down to her waist where jointed layers of chainmail would protect against almost any strike. But even through that thick armor, Nixie knew a hard enough blow could do its damage. It would just be a matter of catching her when she wasn’t translucent and malleable.

  “There’s still time to stop this,” Deidra said. “Give up the crown you don’t deserve.”

  Nixie shook her head. “I step into this arena of my own free will.” She looked up to the stands. “No matter the outcome, remember that we can all change. You live in this place in peace. With no need of drowning the commoners, sinking their ships, stealing their children. Remember that. Remember I did not want this fight. You’ve chosen your champion. She will fall.”