Blood for Atlantis Page 10

  No one says anything. There is a brief pause before women dressed in head-to-toe white enter through tunnels behind Amphitrite. There is gauze hiding their faces. From their hands, extend long claws similar to my own when I am half shifted. My stomach flips as the image ignites a small flame of fear. I work to depress the feeling, as I know there is no place in this cave for fear. Fear can drive you mad.

  “Guardians of the pools will watch over you during your purification. If you try to leave, you will die.” Amphitrite’s words echo through the cavern. In a swish of darkness, she is gone.

  A Guardian takes my hand with her sharp talons to lead me down one of the tunnels. The fear wafts off of the other potentials so thickly I can taste it. We enter the dark tunnel and walk for what seems like ever. The only indication that I have entered my cavern is the echo from my steps becoming louder.

  Even with my strong eyes, I can see nothing. The Guardian stops me, and with her claw, rips my toga from my shoulder. It drops to the cave floor, and I shiver not only from the cold but from the vulnerability of being nude.

  The Guardian takes my hand one more time as she leads me to the edge of the blood pool. My fangs are extended. The smell has me salivating. I want to drink it, but something tells me I should fight my urge for now. I am not in need of it . . . yet.

  I step into the pool. It is warm and feels fresh, however to get this much fresh blood is impossible. This blood is old and bespelled. Something here keeps it from coagulating. Proving the pool is deep, I go under the moment I step off the edge. My legs squeeze together, and I have a brief second to pull my dagger free before losing it to the bottomless pit while shifting into my mermaid form.

  My first few moments in the pool drag on. I’m aware I just arrived, but every minute is broken down into painstaken seconds. If I do not find a way to pass the time, I could go mad. Not knowing what else to do I throw myself backwards and float upon the blood. My tail floats, and my arms are stretched out. My face is above, but my ears and hair are below.

  I close my eyes and take big calculated breaths through my mouth. Gills can’t breath in blood. All the moments of my life flash before me upon the backs of my eye lids. I can even hear my mother sing to me as a babe. Aphrodite is a goddess that may not be trusted, but I have no doubt she loves me.

  I hear nothing, I see nothing, and I feel nothing. I have no sense of distrust in this place and no fear, allowing myself to come to a place of meditation and peace while afloat in an endless pool of blood, blood that thumps through the veins of every living being as a life giver.

  I take life away to feed my own. Self disgust seeps into me, and I begin to sink deeper into the blood. I thrash my tail, bringing my head above water, panting loudly. Panicking, I look around the room, praying for light. In that the moment of panic, I realize I am allowing self doubt to take control, making me weak.

  “Deep breaths,” I whisper to myself, trying to return to the place of calm I was in moments before. When I push my thoughts from my head, I return to my floating.

  This time, it hits me why I am here. I can’t doubt myself, Atlantis, or what I may have to do to keep my home safe. All I can do is trust my gut. Just because I need to drink blood to keep my strength does not mean I have to murder to do it. It can be given freely out of love and maybe even devotion, freely by those who need my protection. I’m not a monster. I may look the part, but it is not who I want to be, and that is the only part that matters.

  The revelation is a blanket of comfort wrapping me tight in its warm embrace. The pendant around my neck radiates warmth, and I begin to drift off to sleep. A dreamless deep sleep of rest and rejuvenation. I entered this cave a girl mermaid, and I will leave it a warrior fully charged, ready to take what is hers.

  When I wake, I am still suspended in the pool of blood alone. I will be here for twenty-four hours, and I have no idea how long I have been here. I splash my tail and spin in the thick blood, my head thrown back and hair twirling behind me. My fingers dance on the edge as my long powerful tail spins me around and around. I laugh a maniacal laugh that echoes through the caverns. One of the other potentials screams in response.

  Soon the entire cavern is echoing in screams, proving not everyone is at peace, like myself. I lay back to float, praying the blood will strain out the shrill cries of other mermaids in the dark. It doesn’t. I can survive the dark that is no problem. I came to an understanding with my lesson early on, but my ears may not survive the awful sounds of the others..

  I do the only thing I can think to do. With my ears under the pool of blood and my mouth and nose free, I sing. Not a song of man, or a song of gods, but an enchanting song of the sea. My voice leaves my mouth in waves of ethereal harmonies, reacting perfectly with the acoustics of the caves. The screams cease, so I continue on.

  My voice fills the air of Atlantis, moving out, touching everything. I can see its colors in the dark; purples, greens, pinks, and blues making a wondrous painting before my eyes. In awe of myself, I close my mouth and stop. As soon as I do, the screams pick up again, spurring me to continue my song.

  I never tire. It is as if the song comes from the well of my soul. For what seems like days, I continue to sing–only breaking to take a sip of blood to moisten my throat. I can’t tolerate the screams of the others, and I’m grateful I can give them something that may keep them sane. During my song, I realize the people I am working to keep calm are the same ones I will have to fight to the death to save myself.

  The realization of death washes over me, causing my song to change. It is no longer a song of comfort, it is now a song of tears. Every inch of my being mourns the actions I will have to take; it washes out of me in harmonies that could bring the devil to his knees, repenting.

  The time comes for me to be brought forth out of the cavern. I am a new person. A stronger person. In the dark, soaking in blood, I found my voice. The Guardian who comes for me never says a word. Instead, one of her long claws taps me on my shoulder from the edge of the pool. I swim over, lifting myself over the edge and reforming my legs.

  I follow the guardian out of the cavern. When the light of the morning hits my eyes, I wince in pain. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. All four potentials and I are standing upon the steps of Amphitrite’s temple. My body is streaked in blood, and my hair is stained red. I look out towards Atlantis to see throngs of people peering at us from below.

  “All five potentials have emerged! Everyone heard the song come forth from the caverns! The next Key is among us!”

  Cheers erupt through the crowd. I stand silent with the others as Jewel smiles and waves as if she is the one who sang through the night. A righteous anger wells up inside me at the woman who attempted to have me killed and is wrongfully taking credit for something she did not do. I don’t like to judge, but she will get hers in due time.

  15

  We are led off into different directions. I am taken to a large bath where after I climb in, servants go about scrubbing the blood off of my body and out of my hair. Perfume is added to the soap, making my head light from the heavy smell. My body is scrubbed until it is red and raw. Every movement is done in silence in preparation for the Ring.

  The servants pull me from the bath and pat me dry. I haven’t even lifted a finger. It is all done in honor of my position as a potential Key to Atlantis. Any nerves I had before this day were washed away with the blood. I don’t want to kill anyone, but it is either kill or be killed. Either way, my mourning has already been done.

  I am led into a white tent outside the bathing room. I can hear throngs of people cheering for the matches to start within the Ring. In the tent, is my perfect dark armor Amphitrite had made for me, equipped with all my weapons, including my dagger I thought was lost to the caves.

  I stand in place as the servants begin to dress me, one piece of armor at a time. Apathy swarms through me with each section of armor applied. The only feeling I have is appreciation for what I am wearing, such as the detail that
went into each individual scale on my bust and the skirt around my waist, and the scabbard that will hold my perfect swords strapped to my back. I am deadly without weapons, but now I am a living breathing storm.

  Drums begin, and the crowd goes wild. I pull my boots on and begin placing my weapons on my person. My swords are in the scabbards at my back. My dagger is already at my thigh. My throwing knives are about my waist. A servant styles my hair by twisting it tight and coiling the blonde strands into a bun upon my head. She then pins it in place with two razor-sharp spikes that can also be used for throwing.

  The drums begin to hit their crescendo. The time has come. With a newfound confidence, I stride forward and throw the curtains to the tent open, stepping through. There are steps down from each tent into the Ring. The crowd goes wild with my appearance. Jewel and the other three, I don’t know their, names are already out. Jewel is the only one waving to the crowd.

  Dislike rages within me, and I work hard to keep my face passive and stoic. I turn my attention to the Ring, glad that Jewel is the only name I know. It helps not having names for the people I will be forced to kill. The moment is ruined when an announcer's voice echoes over the Ring.

  One at a time, the names are announced to enter the Ring. The first is a tall blonde girl with her hair pulled tight into a long ponytail with silver armor. Her name is Kora.

  Next is Jewel, the traitorous potential who tried to have me killed. Her dark hair is done in a tight braid starting on top of her head and flowing down her back. Her armor is black with red leather beneath it. The crowd goes wild, and she performs to it as she walks to her place in the Ring .

  The third potential’s name fills the air–Taryn. Taryn is another blonde. She is taller and leaner than everyone else entering the Ring, including me. Her hair is pulled back into a severe bun on top of her head. Her armor is simple copper with basic leathers. She does not play for the crowd. Instead, she doesn’t even look like she wants to be here.

  The fourth name announced is Lilly, such a sweet sounding name for someone going into the Ring . Lilly has raven-dark hair, and her armor is set to match. She appears deadly, and stomps into the Ring with a silent confidence. I instantly like her.

  Finally, my name bounces around the Ring. I walk down the stairs with no pomp or celebration. The crowd is silent, a change of pace from the others. My parentage is now known far and wide. The silence is their way of paying respect to who I am and what I may represent. I am not a major deity. In comparison to others, I am still in my infancy, but everyone knows that I have the potential to be a storm.

  I come to a stop on the last podium. All potentials are facing each other in a circle. My heart pounds in my chest, and yet my body is calm. My muscles are relaxed, and my mind is sharp. When the gong sounds, everyone jumps from their podium to fight, except for me.

  I wait, and I watch. They attack in the center with a force I did not expect. Jewel takes out Taryn within the first few minutes. Kora is battling with Lilly. Jewel moves on to confront Lilly, as Lilly beheads Kora with one powerful swing of her long heavy sword.

  The battle is moving quickly. Lilly and Jewel are pacing around each other when Jewel stops and tilts her head towards me. Lilly, being a trained warrior, doesn’t take her eyes off of Jewel in the case that it may be a trick. Jewel leaves her battle stance and points her short sword towards me. This time, Lilly allows her eyes to leave Jewel and sees me standing upon my podium.

  It is then that they became a team. They are aware they will have no chance killing me one on one, but maybe if it was two on one they would stand a chance. I nod towards them. So be it. I already mourned their deaths, anyways.

  I casually hop down from the podium and am assaulted by the smell of the blood, causing my fangs to pop free from my gums. I hiss at both potentials. The technique causes gasps to escape both of them just before they regain their composure and their battle stances.

  If the Ring wants a show, I will give them a show. I stride between them giving them each an advantage over me. It doesn’t take long for them to strike, and strike hard they do. I pull my two swords free from the scabbards and begin to block blow for blow.

  If they do manage to beat me, they will be so tired that the winner of the fight between the two of them will be determined by who dies of exhaustion first. I twist, turn, and jump out of every attempt they make to corral me into a bad position. My body is lithe and on fire. Every muscle is tingling with the exhilaration of battle. I am the hand of Ares and the heart of Aphrodite.

  The realization empowers me. The two potentials haven’t even come close to landing a blow when I decide to attack. I go for Jewel first, as she is the only one I have any hatred for. My sword clips her neck. Not deep enough to kill immediately, but enough she will wither on the ground until she bleeds out. It is what I believe she deserves.

  Leaving Jewel to die on the ground alone, I turn to Lilly. I instantly liked Lilly, and that emotion still stands. I decide to give her a chance to bow out. I will not kill her, if I don’t have to. In a gesture of my good faith, I sheath my sword upon my back and motion for her to bow before me.

  Lilly does not hesitate to drop her sword to the ground. She begins to drop to her knee, but before she does, a knife whirls through the air, piercing Lilly in the lung. I hear the hiss of air as Lilly drops, first upon the hilt of the knife and then to the ground to die.

  I whirl around to see Jewel sitting upon her knees, ready to draw another knife meant for me. Her ego demands her to have me look at her before she thinks she will kill me. I move with a speed I did not realize I have. Before I know it, I am behind her, and my claws have dug into each side of her head. In one powerful crunch and twist, I pull Jewel’s head from her shoulders and toss it out of the Ring. Blood sprays me, the ground, and the crowd. Everyone goes silent once again.

  I peer across the Ring to the body of Lilly upon the ground. My ears pick up the hissing of air as it enters and exits her lungs. She is still alive. Following my instincts, I stand and stride across the Ring to the dying raven-haired warrior.

  I flip her body over, and see her eyes staring up at me, unblinking. She does not have much time. Not knowing what else to do, I slice my wrist with my claw and place it above her mouth to drink, or in her case to drip into her mouth hoping it will give her strength.

  My hand takes hold of the knife buried deep in her lung, and I begin to sing a song of hope. My voice is carried upon the air of Atlantis, echoing in magical harmonies. The pendant around my neck begins to glow as it did in the caverns the night before. In one solid movement, when the time feels right, I pull the knife from Lilly’s chest.

  In that moment, her mouth latches upon my wrist, and she drinks. I see the wound begin to heal. Ipull my wrist free from her mouth, but my song continues. She lays there with her eyes closing, falling into a deep sleep.

  I may be the Hand of Ares, but I am also the Heart of Aphrodite; now I am the Key to Atlantis.

  16

  Without any pomp or circumstance, I turn, leaving Lilly to recover on the ground and start up the stairs to exit the Ring. Servants try to approach me at the top. I expose my fangs and hiss at them like a caged animal. It has the desired effect, and they back off, leaving me to walk alone.

  I stop for no one, I make it past Amphitrite’s temple and head through the market area, ignoring anyone who attempts to approach me. I see the palace in the distance behind the market building when I hear a voice call to me behind me.

  “Meri! Stop right now!” My mother’s voice is filled with all the anger of a mother with a petulant child. I am no child, though.

  I turn to face her, and look upon my beautiful mother with her face half covered by a canary-yellow scarf. “What? I am done today. No one ever asked if I wanted this. I did it because it is what I was told to do. Now, all I want is rest and some peace.”

  “We all understand that,” Aphrodite responds with concern in her voice. She my be a goddess, but she is still my mother. I
wait patiently for her to continue.

  “Go to your rooms and rest. We will send Ari for you tonight to celebrate your new position.”

  I nod to her before turning around and continuing my trek to the palace. By ‘celebrate,’ I know she means a big party that will follow an extensive meeting about what it means to be the Key to Atlantis.

  As a creature of habit, I take the path around the palace to the kitchen door. I find Morgan, Aden, Laki, and Breck all standing by the door trying not to appear out of breath from their attempt to beat me there.

  “I need to be alone,” I say, staring at the four of them.

  “Being alone is the last thing you need,” Morgan says, and the other three guys echo his sentiment.

  “Fine, you can follow me up. I apologize in advance for my crankiness. I am not really in the celebrating mood.”

  They let me pass without saying a word, as if they know I don’t need or want anyone to tell me what a great job I did. I’m not proud of my actions. Everyone in Atlantis today witnessed what I am capable of. The cat is out of the bag. I am an odd mix of monster and savoir.

  We enter my room. I motion for the men to sit without saying a word. I go for a shower. Once there, I turn the water up to scalding hot and step in. It is a vain attempt to burn the guilt plaguing my soul by scalding my flesh. I sigh desperately, trying to forget my actions; my actions in the hall when I was attacked and the actions in the Ring. I love training, but maybe battling is not for me. I turn into a heartless machine, and it scares me.

  Aware that the shower has done nothing but wash me clean from sweat and blood, I turn it off. I dry myself with a towel and discover tears falling down my cheeks in a silent river. I swing the door open, walking into my large bedroom fully nude.