Heart of Atlantis

mentioned them as the most magically powerful, right?”

Myrken just stared at her, and she started to get mad. “Look, if this is some kind of ‘we don’t take orders from women’ thing—”

“Humans,” he muttered. “Your gender is immaterial.”

She rolled her eyes. “Even worse, you . . . you . . . species racist. Get your ass in there and help Alaric, or I’ll make sure you don’t live to regret it,” she snapped out in her best rebel leader voice.

The man all but saluted and headed inside, shouting for the other acolytes as he did. Quinn didn’t wait to see what happened, but ran for the door so she could go find the castle.

* * *

Alaric fought with the brutal power of the Trident for what felt like years, until Myrken and several of the strongest acolytes arrived to help. He ruthlessly drew on their power to help contain the Trident from unleashing any more of those unstable blasts of magic. It wasn’t the physical damage to the room that concerned him. The Trident’s magic had been an integral part of the infrastructure of Atlantis since the continent first sank below the waves. Without its underpinning, he didn’t know how long everything else would hold together.

Conlan entered the room, followed closely by Quinn, Ven, and Erin.

“Christophe and Serai aren’t on Atlantis, but I got Erin,” Quinn said.

Erin was already calling to the Wilding, and Alaric felt the cool breeze of her human magic swirling around him, its eddies whispering dark promises of mayhem and madness.

“Erin, stop,” he said. “We can’t know how the Wilding would interact with the Trident’s current unstable magic, and we already know it doesn’t respond well to your control here in Atlantis. You might help, or you might make everything far worse.”

The Wilding faded, and Erin nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry; it was an instinctive reaction. I wish I could be of more help, but I’m afraid you’re probably right. We heard reports yesterday that magic has been misbehaving all over the world, and it started right around the time your gem was found in Turkey. I’m wondering if all of this is related.”

Myrken flashed a reproachful glance at Alaric, took a deep breath, and bowed to Conlan. “Your Highness. You are welcome in the temple, as always.”

Alaric groaned as he dug deeper for enough power to reinforce the containment field. “I think we can dispense with the courtly manners this once.”

Myrken gasped. “My lord, it’s the high prince.”

“Whose ass will be drowning right along with the rest of us if we don’t contain the Trident,” Alaric snapped.

Conlan nodded. “Thank you, Myrken, but Alaric is right.”

Alaric knew in a brief flash of regret that Myrken had been embarrassed by the conversation, and then he realized that it wasn’t his regret. He was feeling Quinn’s emotion.

“Myrken, I want to apologize for my comments before,” Quinn said, her cheeks flushing a dull red. “I was very concerned for Alaric.”

Myrken bowed deeply, but not before Alaric saw a kind of wonder in his eyes. “It is an honor to take commands from one who so obviously cares so deeply for my lord.”

“Well, let’s not get carried away,” Quinn muttered.

Alaric didn’t know what to say or think or even feel, as the realization hit him that, yet again, Quinn had been trying to protect him. He didn’t even mind the grin Conlan aimed at him, but apparently Quinn did.

“What is this, junior high? Don’t we have better things to do than stand around smiling at each other like idiots?” she snapped.

Myrken gasped, and the other acolytes in the room nearly fainted. The human had just spoken disrespectfully to the high prince and the high priest. Alaric had to fight to keep from laughing out loud, in spite of the dire situation. That was his woman. Defiant to the bitter end.

Conlan’s smile vanished, though, and he nodded sharply. “Yes, we do, and I need answers, now. What in the nine hells is going on and how much damage to Atlantean infrastructure will this cause? And where is Poseidon?”

Alaric frowned, having wondered the same thing. Poseidon was perfectly content to show up whenever he wasn’t wanted, so why didn’t he show up when he was desperately needed? Only he could truly contain the Trident’s power.

“Poseidon, I petition you for your assistance,” he called out, in a thunderous voice supported by magic. “Please come to our aid and to the aid of Atlantis.”

They all waited, almost holding their breath, for several long moments, but silence was the only response. Poseidon either wasn’t listening or didn’t care. They were on their own.

“Huh,” Quinn said. “I don’t suppose he has an iPhone? BlackBerry? Skype?”

Myrken glared at her, but Alaric just shook his head.

“No, although it would be easier, wouldn’t it? If he’d ever answer his phone, that is.”

“Yeah, he seems more like the ‘press 1 for godly intervention, press 2 for unwanted interference with your love life’ kind of guy,” Erin said.

Ven snorted, but then looked nervously around. “Let’s not mock the god in his own temple, okay, Erin?”

“What can we do?” Conlan asked, directing the question at Alaric. “Is there enough power here among your people to sustain this? We need for you to go after Poseidon’s Pride, and even you can’t be in two places at once.”

“It should hold,” Alaric said, gingerly testing the perimeter of the containment field with his magic.

“It will hold,” Myrken said firmly. “I will make sure of it.”

A commotion at the door heralded the arrival of Justice, who strode quickly into the room, his long blue hair flying unbraided around his shoulders.

“We’re in big trouble,” he gasped out, winded. “Huge. Whatever was going on here has damaged more than just the walls in the temple. Lights are out, power is fluctuating, and worse. Much worse.”

He paused to suck in a deep breath. “I ran all the way to and from the dome. We’re in big trouble, everyone. The blast somehow damaged the dome itself. Tiny cracks, no bigger than a hair, have formed all over the surface.”

Justice took another breath and stared straight at Alaric. “The dome is going to fail, and we’re five and a half miles underwater. Everyone on Atlantis will die.”

Chapter 15

At the portal landing area, next to one section of the dome, an hour later

A single drop of water.

Only one.

Quinn and the rest of the group stared at that single drop of water as if it held the answers to all the questions of the universe. It was impossible, or so they’d told her, but the impossible drop beaded along the edge of one of the thousands of cracks and then trickled down the side of the dome to the grass.

And Quinn’s latent claustrophobia flared into excruciating existence.

“It’s really true,” she whispered, as if any sound could send the whole structure crashing down around their ears. Of all the ways she’d imagined her demise over the years, death by suffocation and drowning, while being crushed by water pressure, had not even once been among them.

Figured.

“What are we going to do?”

Alaric put an arm around her and pulled her close to his side, as if he could protect her from anything, even a collapsing dome over a soon-to-be-lost-for-real continent.

“We shore up the dome’s magical barrier, continue to stabilize the Trident, kill Ptolemy the pretender, retrieve Poseidon’s Pride, restore it to the Trident, force Atlantis to rise, and save, as you would say, the day,” Alaric said calmly.