Atlantis: Devil's Sea (20 page)

The light from the opening faded as they went down, and soon they were moving in complete darkness. Falco wasn’t worried, though, because he could sense what Kaia did, the path of the tunnel as it made slight turns left or right, but always descending. The temperature was rising, and sweat poured down Falco’s skin, irritable underneath his armor.

Kaia suddenly halted, Cassius bumping into her. “What is it?” the general asked.

“There is a branch here; two tunnels,” she answered.

“Left,” Falco said from the rear.

“Yes, left,” Kaia agreed after a moment, and they continued on their way.

Falco could sense something ahead and below, something of considerable power but not active. It wasn’t the dormant volcano, although he was picking up the power in the Earth, but something different. He stumbled as a vision of a stepped pyramid, a woman lying on a platform on top, came to him unbidden. Then it was gone, as quickly as it had come. He continued on, by then he paused when the others did, as the Earth shook under his feet.

*****

On the small beach of Nea Kameni, the Akrotirian Oracle had watched the three disappear into the opening. She had never set foot on the other island, even though it was so close. She had always known it would not be her fate to go there. She was just a signpost.

Despite the darkness she sensed coming, her heart was joyful. When she had produced no heir to her post, she had worried that her line would die without fulfilling its destiny. But now she could die in peace, knowing that what had been slotted to her line had been accomplished. It would be up to others to take the battle further.
She startled as the ground shook. The quake lasted for almost ten seconds, then stopped. She turned toward the main island, where her gatekeeper was looking out at her, his hand covering his eyes. She waved, indicating for him to leave, but she knew he couldn’t see well anymore. She yelled as he got into a second boat that he kept at the small dock and began rowing toward her.

“Go away, old fool!” she called.

He didn’t stop rowing.

“Nectarous, go away. Save yourself!” she called out, but he kept coming. She sat down wearily on a stone. Then her eyes were transfixed by the site of a brownish gray fog boiling in over the water, coming through the southern gap.

*****

“Hurry,” Falco was whispering, although why, he didn’t know.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Kaia replied. “What if there is a sudden drop-off or a chasm?”

“Then you die,” Falco said. “But if you don’t hurry, you’ll die anyway.”
“Hold!” Kaia called out, and Falco felt it at the same time. The air was much hotter and the walls had disappeared. They were in an open area, deep underground, how large he didn’t know. Then he blinked as there was a very faint light ahead and above them.

“What is that?” Cassius asked.

“Where we are going.” Kaia began moving. The others didn’t need to hold the rope now as their eyes, so used to the dark, locked onto the light like a beacon. As they got closer, Falco could make out a pyramid enclosed inside the large chamber, the light coming from the top of it. It was the same as the one that had been in his vision. They reached the base and began going up the wide steps toward the top.

“What is this place?” Cassius’s voice sounded unnaturally loud, echoing off the walls of the chamber.

“This defeated the Shadow long ago,” Kaia said. “It was buried here when the volcano exploded.”

“But why is it in a chamber?” Cassius asked.

“Even after stopping the Shadow, there was enough power to keep it from being swallowed up.” Kaia was almost at the top, the others close behind. “In the old days this was in the center of a great city.”
“Who build it?” Cassius asked.

“The Ones Before,” Kaia said. “Those who helped my ancestors and who also fight the Shadow.”

She stopped as she reached the platform at the very top. “But not enough to save those who served here,” she said as she saw what was before her.

Falco climbed the last step and stood behind her. There were skeletons littered all over the flat platform. The glow was coming from something next to the raised table in the center of the platform, something underneath a skeleton covered in armor

Falco went past Kaia and knelt. He recognized the armor of a warrior, but the working was very old and of bronze. The bones were large, indicating a powerful man. Carefully, he pulled the skeleton back from whatever it was covering. He blinked as his eyes were temporarily blinded by what he unveiled: a clear skull, glowing from an inner blaze of white light that now lit up the entire cavern and pyramid.

“Ah!” Kaia exclaimed as she joined Falco and reached for the skull.

“Careful!” Falco warned. “It might burn.”

“It won’t hurt me.” Kaia tenderly picked the skull up. “This is my ancestor.”

*****

The fog was approaching rapidly, spreading in an unnatural manner, going against the wind. The Akortian Oracle could see that Nectarios would not arrive at her location before the fog.

“You foolish man,” she murmured as the fog enveloped him. Her heart was heavy as he disappeared, because she saw not the old man, but the young, strapping warrior Nectarios had been when she first met him. He’d been her lover for many years, but they had never had a child, a fact she had taken as an omen that the end of her line was near, as she knew it was not Nectario’s fault, but rather that her womb was barren. She had spent many a long day pondering what that fate meant. Now she knew.

She staggered as she sensed Nectarios dying, a feeling that cut through to the bone, and then was gone, just as quickly. She stood, facing the approaching fog. It swept over the beach, and her skin crawled from the feel of it.

Something came out of the fog and came to a halt just in front of her, two feet above the pebbles. She saw the hard white skin and stared into the unblinking red eyes.

“You are too late, demon,” she said bravely. “They had been here and gone.”

She was uncertain whether it had heard her as a second, similar creature floated out of the fog and joined the first. This one held up it’s claws, and blood slowly dripped from them. She knew that was Nectarios’ blood. At least he had died swiftly, she thought.

She could sense the creatures, and it wasn’t specifically evil that she picked up but rather something so alien that evil wasn’t even a concept to them. She realized suddenly that she was as much a thing to them as they were to her.

She saw a claw come up, holding a thin spear. As the probe shot forward toward her, she blocked it with her right hand, the metal punching entirely through, the tip sticking out of the other side.

“They’re gone!” she screamed as she curled her fingers around the probe, trying to hold on to it, as the Valkryie reeled it back to the launching tube. She staggered as she was pulled toward the creature. Her fingers were sliced to the bone as the probe was pulled out, despite her best efforts, and reloaded.

The second Valkryie was behind her, claws grabbing her shoulders, cutting the skin as it tried to hold her still as the first aimed the tube at her head once more.

“They will kill you,” the oracle said, then spat at the creature.

The probe hit her in the forehead, slicing through her brain and lodging there.

*****

Falco stood and looked about. There was a depression in the table, human-sized. Nearby, he could see a shaft stuck into a slot, the top consisting of seven snake heads, intricately carved, as the old oracle had told them. He reached for it and pulled, but it didn’t move. He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them. He twisted and then pulled up, and the staff came free, revealing a fine blade on the other end. He hefted it. Light, very light. In the gladiator school he had been trained on all weapons, including the javelin and the thrusting spear along with bow, net, trident—every device used in the arena or in war. For the first time since Vesuvius had erupted, he smiled as his hands curled around the haft of the weapon. He intuitively knew this was the most powerful killing tool he had ever wielded.

“Ah!” Kaia spun about, the skull cradled against her chest. “They are above. They have the oracle.”

“Who?” Falco asked.

“The Valkyries. Two of them. She cannot stop them. They will know we are here.”
“Then let us go and confront them.” Falco began going down the pyramid stairs, taking them two at a time. He paused halfway down. A river of red was pouring into the chamber, boiling up through a crack at the base of the pyramid below him. Kaia and Cassius joined him, and they continued down, feeling the heat, watching the river widen from a foot to two feet.

They reached the last step. The river of lava was five feet wide and still growing. The heat was almost unbearable. Falco turned and grabbed the general and without a word threw him through the air, clearing the lava and falling in tumble on the far side. Falco looked at Kaia.

“Ready?”

She nodded. He held out the staff, and she grabbed the haft near the Naga heads he had it near the blade. “Go!” he yelled and they both jumped. He landed, rolling and coming to his feet, Kaia at his side.

“Hurry!” General Cassius was waving at them from the tunnel entrance.

*****

The oracle’s last thought was that she had failed as she looked up at her body still being held by one of the Valkyries as the blood drained from her severed head lying on the beach. She blinked once, twice, then the eyes clouded over.

The first Valkyrie reached down and picked up the now lifeless head and crushed it, tossing the mangled remains into the water. Then they floated into the fog, heading toward Palaia Kameni.

*****

The glow from the skull being carried by Kaia silhouetted Falco as he moved up the tunnel. His shadow was long, bouncing off the walls in front of him. He was focused on what lay ahead, all his senses alert. He probed with his mind, but there was nothing.

The light changed, and Falco risked a glance behind him. Red filled the tunnel behind them, the lava coming after them, channeled into the narrow space, accelerating.

He tucked the staff under one arm as he wiped the sweat off his hands on the tail of his tunic that stuck out from underneath his breastplate. It was as hot as Hades in the tunnel, and he staggered as the ground shook once more. He spared another glance over his shoulder and saw that Kaia was right behind him, the general behind her, his sword drawn and in his good hand. The red glow was closer.

Falco tried to remember how far they had gone down, but it was difficult to estimate, given they had traveled slowly in the dark. Sweat stung his eyes, and he swung his head back and forth like a wild beast, spraying sweat from his face.

There was a light ahead, not daylight nor starlight, but something diffuse and obscene to Falco’s eyes. He tightened his grip on the staff and probed ahead with his mind. It was as if he could see two blocks of ice just outside the entrance to the tunnel. Cold, that was the aura of whatever waited; cold and uncaring.

He paused. “General.”

“Yes, Centurion?”

“Guard her.”

“I do not—“ Kaia began, but Falco shushed her.

“There is nothing you can do against these things that wait for us.” He held up the Naga staff. “This is the only weapon we have against them, and I am the best trained to handle it. Wait here until I call.”
Cassius looked back at the red glow. “We do not have much time.”

Falco edged forward, feet spread in the fighting stance he’d been taught as a child. He could see out of the entrance now and noted the fog that covered the area. He could still sense the two cold spots, definitely not like anything he had ever faced before, and he had killed not only humans but every manner of beast in the arena. This was something completely new. They flanked the entrance, about ten feet back on either side. Always the pincer; it was the classic maneuver of a larger force. Falco had encountered it numerous times before.

He knew there was only one way to face this threat, and that was to attack. It was a lesson that had been pounded into him by his various
lanistas
over the years. When in doubt, attack. When surprised, attack. When desperate, attack. In the arena there was only one inevitable end to the defense: death.

He gathered himself, then dashed forward out of the tunnel onto the hillside, and spun to the right. But there was nothing there. As he tried to adjust, he realized his opponent was a
bove
the hillside, floating in the air, coming in for a strike. He could also sense the danger closing from behind, He had a brief glimpse of a figure covered in white armor, red eyes, then he jabbed, missed, and rolled downslope, taking the impact of the rocks and ground and letting his body absorb the blows.

He hit the beach and rolled to his feet at the ready. The two Valkyries were coming toward him, ten feet between them, hands glittering with sharp extensions on each of the fingers. Falco tucked the haft of the staff under his left arm, blade forward, and drew his sword from across his body with his left. He knew from the words of the oracle that it could not hurt these creatures, but he needed it to protect himself.

They attacked. He jabbed at the one on the left and backed the one-handed slash of the one on the right with his sword, feeling the impact through the blade, up his arm. He staggered back. The metal was chipped where it had been hit. Falco growled and turned as they circled him. He could not sense their intentions as he could in the arena with more earthly opponents, only their cold presence. That, combined with their ability to hover and the sloping ground, put him at a distinct disadvantage. His military training had taught him that the army that controlled the high ground had the advantage, so he rushed upslope at the Valkryie closest to him.

He thrust with the staff, and the Valkyrie parried it with a slap of a clawed hand. Then it emitted a noise such as he had never heard, a scream that cut through his brain, the pain doubled as the other one added its own inhuman yell.

Falco jabbed again, and as the Valkryie slapped, he pulled back on the haft of the staff and pivoted with all his strength, directing the edge of the blade at the hand. The edge caught right at the wrist and sliced neatly through, the clawed hand falling to the ground.