The Atlantis Secret

by S. A. Beck

  The man with the flute bent down, his knobby knees poking the sides of his djellaba, and waved the flute over one of the baskets as he played. Jaxon wondered what could be inside those baskets. The audience seemed fixated on them. One of the boys next to her nudged his friend and giggled, pointing at them.

  With the end of the flute, the old man flicked the top of the basket off, and a cobra popped up. Jaxon flinched.

  The snake stretched up, half its body out of the basket and the rest coiled within. The hood just below its head was spread wide open, and its forked tongue flicked in and out, barely an inch from the tip of the flute.

  The old man began to rock back and forth, his flute rocking with him. The snake sat immobile, only its tongue moving. As the snake charmer continued to rock, the snake slowly uncoiled, lifting itself out of the basket. Its head rocked in time to the flute. Jaxon shuddered as the snake slid out of the basket and stopped just inches from the old man. It coiled up again, its head rising as the tongue flicked in and out, tasting the end of the flute.

  Jaxon had heard that snakes coiled when they wanted to strike, shooting forward like a spring. Was this cobra about to attack?

  Still squatting, the snake charmer shifted his feet and moved over to the second basket. Once again, he flipped the top of the basket off with the end of his flute to reveal another cobra. Then he shifted again and did the same with the third basket.

  Within seconds, he had three deadly poisonous snakes coiled at his feet. His tune changed, and the snakes slowly stretched themselves out and started to move closely around him, forming a ring.

  Jaxon tried to edge away but bumped into the legs of a man standing right behind her. The snakes were slithering only a couple of feet away from her. If they decided to attack, she would have nowhere to run. She glanced at the boys sitting to either side of her and saw their eyes had grown wide with wonder, their little mouths hanging open. They didn’t seem to show much fear, though. Maybe they were too young to realize just how crazy the snake charmer was.

  The old man put down his flute. As soon as the music stopped, the snakes stopped too, flicking out their tongues at the hem of his djellaba. He plucked one of the snakes off the ground, holding it by its middle as it bared its fangs and struck at him, its glossy body uncoiling like a whip.

  The snake charmer had measured the distance perfectly, and the cobra could only reach to within a couple of inches of his face. The man stuck out his tongue so that he could almost lick the long, curved fangs of the poisonous serpent. He rocked back and forth, teasing the snake as it lunged for him, always missing by an inch.

  Jaxon’s eyes widened as the other two snakes slithered up the man’s back. He looked over his shoulder at them with a smile and bent over to let them climb up more easily. Soon, they coiled around his neck, turning their heads to watch the crowd with beady black eyes. Meanwhile, the snake he held calmed down and froze in place, staring right at the snake charmer.

  Slowly, the man stood straight, and Jaxon gritted her teeth at the thought of one of those snakes getting disturbed and biting him or springing off his shoulders to attack the front row. How good were Moroccan hospitals? She didn’t want to find out.

  The snake charmer looked right at her and smiled.

  “Don’t even think of making me part of your show,” she told him.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “American?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You have good time in Morocco?” he asked in heavily accented English.

  “So far it’s pretty cool except for the snakes. Could you maybe step back a little?”

  He said something to the crowd in Arabic, and everyone laughed. Jaxon blushed. Was he making fun of her?

  The old man seemed to remember he was in the middle of a show with three deadly snakes draped over him. He puffed out his chest, got a serious look on his face, and lifted the snake he held high into the air.

  With the forefinger of the other hand, he touched the base of the snake’s mouth. Jaxon tensed again. The guy was really pushing his luck.

  He ran his finger down the snake’s body, and everyone gasped as the cobra went as limp as a wet noodle. With a deft hand, he plucked one of the snakes from around his neck and ran his forefinger down its throat too. It went as limp as the first one. The third cobra got the same treatment.

  The snake charmer looked at Jaxon and smiled. “Stand, please.”

  “Um, I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”

  “Don’t you want to see Moroccan culture?”

  “Not like this.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I’m looking for people like me.”

  The old man glanced at one of his snakes as though expressing surprise to a friend and then looked back at Jaxon.

  “People with dark skin and blue eyes? The People from the Sea?”

  Jaxon perked up. “You know about us?”

  “I know much secret knowledge”—he gestured with the limp snakes—“but learning such knowledge always comes at a risk.”

  “Tell me about it,” Jaxon said, thinking about the fight and chase in Chinatown.

  “So you understand?” the snake charmer asked.

  “Yes,” Jaxon said, not really sure what he meant.

  “Then stand.”

  “I told you I don’t want to be part of your show.”

  The snake charmer gave her a wicked grin. “Knowledge comes at a price. My price is danger. Stand and meet my legless friends. Do it without trembling or hesitation, and I will take you to your people.”

  Jaxon paused, unable to believe what the guy was saying. Did this jerk really want her to risk her life just so he’d take her to the Atlanteans? Why couldn’t he just ask for money?

  The snake charmer kept his gaze fixed on her. The crowd didn’t make a sound. She looked at all the expectant faces around her. When they’d thought she was Moroccan, they hadn’t paid attention to her at all. Since they now knew she was a foreigner, all eyes were fixed on her. Did they expect her to run off? The snake charmer certainly thought so. Annoyed, Jaxon rose to her feet.

  She cocked her head and studied him. “Go on, do your worst.”

  The snake charmer cocked his eyebrow again.

  “My worst? Oh, that was a foolish thing to say. A very foolish thing, indeed.”

  Like a single creature, the three snakes lifted themselves erect and stared at her, their tongues flicking in and out. The snake charmer hadn’t done a thing to make them do that. It was as though the serpents had been listening to their conversation. The old man gave her a wicked grin and moved his hands forward. The snakes loomed up in her face, their black, inhuman eyes staring into her own.

  Chapter 13

  July 28, 2016, MARRAKESH, MOROCCO

  12:30 PM

  * * *

  Jaxon’s body went rigid with fear as the snake charmer leaned toward her, the three snakes in his hands extending their bodies to reach for her face.

  She jerked a little as the closest one flicked its tongue against her cheek, then she froze as all three got so close they became blurry. Their tongues flicked on her cheeks, her ears, her eyes, and they parted like a spreading hand to coil around her neck.

  The snake charmer smiled and let go of the snakes. They hung over her neck and shoulders. She could feel them, but they were too close to see, and she didn’t dare turn her head to check what they were doing. She suppressed a shudder, not daring to move.

  The snake charmer shouted something in Arabic, raising his hands. The crowd cheered.

  “Turn around and face the people,” he told her in English. “They admire your bravery, as do I.”

  “I-I don’t want to move.”

  “I am master of all serpents. They will not hurt you unless I tell them to. Are you afraid?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Um…”

  “Allah hates a liar. Do you trust me?”

  “No.”

&nbs
p; “Good. Turn around.”

  Inch by inch, Jaxon eased her body around to face the crowd, trying not to make any sudden moves or sway her upper body.

  As she turned, she saw the faces of the crowd. Everyone was staring at her with wide-eyed wonder. The little girls wore looks of open admiration.

  Jaxon straightened her spine a little. She had never seen people looking at her as they were. It was a bit pathetic that she had to have three poisonous cobras draped around her neck and shoulders to get that look, but with her pathetic life, she’d take what she could get.

  Pathetic? Life could be a little more pathetic right about now!

  A little girl of about six in a white dress and a big bow in her hair said something to her and clapped.

  “Don’t try this at home, kid,” she told the girl.

  “It is your people who taught me this art,” the snake charmer said.

  “That’s great. Can you take these snakes off me now and take me to them?”

  “Certainly. You have earned it, but you have one more task to perform.”

  The snake charmer put a shiny brass bowl in her hands.

  “Go through the people and collect money.”

  “How about I just pay you for your trouble, and you take the snakes off me?” Jaxon asked.

  “But look, they are all taking money out of their pockets. You would deny them the honor of thanking you?”

  “Oh, so I get to keep the money?”

  The snake charmer belted out a laugh. He translated for the crowd, and they laughed too. Jaxon blushed.

  “You better lead me to my people,” Jaxon grumbled, inching forward as the snakes turned their heads to stare at her.

  “I swear to Allah that I will. This was only a test to see if you deserved to meet them.”

  Jaxon moved slowly through the crowd with the bowl held out, keeping it as low as her arm would allow. She didn’t want to bend down for those who were still seated. Any sudden movement might upset the snakes. Coins plunked into the bowl, and a few people even put in banknotes. Once she finished, she crept back to the snake charmer, who stood by the fountain with his arms crossed and a smug expression on his face.

  “Here’s your money. Now take me to my people,” Jaxon said, holding out the bowl.

  The snake charmer counted the money while Jaxon stood there impatiently, the snakes still draped over her.

  Nodding in appreciation, he stuffed the money in his pockets as the crowd dispersed. Almost as an afterthought, he casually plucked the snakes one by one off of her and stuck them in the baskets.

  Once they were safely put away, Jaxon rounded on him.

  “How could you put me in danger like that!”

  The snake charmer gave her a gap-toothed grin. “They would not hurt you. I have them in my control.”

  “Yeah, but they were on me, not you!”

  He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “The worst they could do is bite you.”

  “Yeah, and then I would have died.”

  “Oh no, I removed the poison from them. Each snake has a little sac at the back of its throat. I remove these with a razor.”

  Jaxon cocked her head. “Really?”

  The old man inclined his head. “I may dance with snakes for a living, but I am not stupid.” He picked up his baskets and smiled. “I am impressed by you. Many Americans would have run away in fear, not of my snakes so much but of us. Americans do not understand the people here and think we are all terrorists. Unfortunately, there are terrorists among us, so we must be careful. Some people in this country hate the secret knowledge I have learned. Come.”

  The snake charmer led her down an alley, and Jaxon soon got lost again as they navigated the maze of the medina. After a few minutes, they emerged into another small square, where another entertainer stood in front of an old mosque, performing in front of a crowd.

  Peering around the backs of the people standing in front of her, Jaxon gasped. Facing the crowd stood an Atlantean. There was no mistaking—he had the same broad face, the same Asian eyes, and the same brilliant blue eyes set off by black skin. He looked to be in his middle age, but it was hard to tell because he had that weathered, weary look that so many poor people had there.

  The Atlantean wore a long robe made up of strips of brightly colored cloth. His head was bare, and long dreadlocks reached past his shoulders. Spread out in front of him on a blanket were innumerable little bottles and jars filled with strange liquids and powders of all colors.

  As the Atlantean called out to the crowd, he was mixing the substances in a brass bowl and encouraging people to have a taste. Several people came forward to try his concoction. Soon, money changed hands, and people moved off with samples in little plastic bags.

  “His name is Moustafa,” the snake charmer said. “He is a healer.”

  “That stuff is medicine?”

  “Most powerful medicine. He can cure anything. Sadly, he cannot cure the war in his own country. He fled here from Mali. Al-Qaeda was killing people like him.”

  “Killing my people?” Jaxon felt a chill.

  “No, most people do not even know your kind are from the sea. That is secret knowledge. They were killing healers like him because they say his medicine is outside of Koranic teachings, a kind of sorcery.”

  “Is it?”

  The snake charmer gave her another of his gap-toothed grins. “That depends on your opinion.”

  The Atlantean’s show ended, and the crowd gradually broke up. He gathered up his powders and liquids in a big steel box covered in Arabic text written in swirly green letters. He spotted the snake charmer and waved to him, putting his hand to his heart. Then he saw Jaxon. His face lit up with interest, and he hurried over, bowing to her and saying something in Arabic.

  “Moustafa does not understand English,” the snake charmer said. “I will have to translate.”

  The two men spoke for a while like old friends before the snake charmer turned back to Jaxon.

  “Moustafa says he is happy to meet you and that he wants to help you find out more about your people. He regrets he does not know much himself, only some old stories. He came from a small village in the desert and has no education.”

  “What does he know?”

  The snake charmer and Moustafa conferred for a while as Jaxon stood by impatiently, frustrated by the language barrier. Then the snake charmer translated again.

  “He says your people came from their island home in the sea long, long ago, centuries before the Romans conquered this land. Their island sank because of the people’s sins, and they sailed here, to what is now Morocco. At first, they built cities and tried to keep their old ways, but people from the desert attacked them, as well as warriors from the south in what is now Senegal and Gambia. By the time the Romans came, the People from the Sea had scattered. They were persecuted for their knowledge and magical powers, and they learned to hide. Soon, many forgot about their past, as you have forgotten. Even those who keep the knowledge have lost most of it.”

  The snake charmer stopped speaking. After a moment, Jaxon realized he was finished.

  “That’s it?” she asked. That hardly added anything to what they already knew.

  “Moustafa apologizes, but he is not an educated man. He comes from Kirchamba, a village near Timbuktu. He says there are scholars in Timbuktu who know much more. Many people wrote down the old stories, and some of these are preserved in ancient manuscripts. You will find out more from the people there.”

  “How did he learn what he knows?”

  “From his parents. Didn’t your parents teach you about this?”

  Jaxon hung her head. Moustafa said something to her in a sympathetic tone.

  “Ah, he understands now,” the snake charmer said. “You are an orphan. Sometimes the People from the Sea are not careful, and regular people become afraid of their powers. Ignorant people will sometimes drive them from the village or even stone them to death for witchcraft. The children end up as orphans.
Sometimes, the parents will give them up in order to protect them.”

  Jaxon nodded, feeling her guts twist. Yeah, her parents had been forced to make the same choice. It must have ripped their hearts apart. When she focused again, Moustafa was writing something in Arabic on a slip of paper.

  The snake charmer went on. “He lived most of his life in his village, but he spent some years in Timbuktu learning his trade. He’s giving you the name and address of a scholar he once knew. He does not know if he is still alive because he was an old man when Moustafa fled in 2012. That was when the terrorists took over the city. They are gone now, but you still must be careful if you go there.”

  Suddenly, Jaxon had an idea.

  “Why don’t you come with me back to my hotel? I’m here with some people who are researching the Atlanteans, the People from the Sea, as you call them. They’d love to hear what Moustafa has to say.”

  When the snake charmer translated this, suddenly Moustafa’s entire attitude changed. His face got a guarded look, and he wagged an angry finger at Jaxon as he lectured her in Arabic.

  “Moustafa says that no good can come from letting regular people study your people. Even those who start by meaning well end up twisting it to their own ends. You should be very careful of these people.”

  “They saved my life!”

  “Only to claim it for their own. Moustafa does not want to meet them and says you should get away from them.”

  “They’re my friends.”

  The two men did not look convinced. Moustafa said something.

  “He regrets he cannot help you more than he has. He suggests going to Timbuktu and seeing his old friend. There, you will learn more. And now, we must go.”

  “Wait, you can’t leave! You’re the first Atlantean I’ve ever met!”

  But they did leave. Moustafa shook her hand, and when Jaxon refused to let go, tears brimming in her eyes, he gave her a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. Then he reached into his case and produced a small vial of green liquid.

  “He says this is his most powerful medicine. If a person is dying, whether from being hurt or getting a disease, it will cure him. But there is only enough to cure one. He says he is sorry, but he must go now. He wishes you luck, and I wish you luck as well. May Allah protect you!”