Atlantis in Peril (21 page)

Utter Darkness

A
t Reocoles's mining operation, a strange quiet had descended. For the first time in years, the giant rock-scraping machines sat in silence. No black smoke belched from them; no grinding metal jaws tore away at the land. And no workers had yet returned, so nobody coughed or retched from the fumes rising out of the toxic waste pool.

Since no trees remained standing, the wind couldn't blow through branches to rustle any leaves. Nor did any songbirds share their lilting melodies. Dragonflies and bees didn't whir and buzz. Frogs didn't croak at twilight.

The only sound to permeate the silence came from the toxic pool. Not from anything on its shore, marked only by the carcass of the bear cub—but from the liquid of the pool itself. Bubbling and churning like a deadly brew, the yellowish liquid roiled incessantly as its chemicals mixed, repelled, and recombined. As fumes rose from the surface, so did the sulfuric stench.

During those days before any new workers could be found and the operations resumed, no eyes came near enough to view the mining operation. So no one saw what happened one day in the dim light of dusk.

High above the toxic pool, a dark cloud appeared. It wasn't caused by the rising fumes, and it wasn't produced by the atmosphere. Rather, this cloud had traveled all the way from the spirit realm.

Crackling with negative energy, the cloud of mistwraiths swelled until its shadow covered the whole waste pool. Mistwraiths, dozens of them, swarmed in the center of the cloud. Their dark, rippling tentacles reached outward, groping like limbs of night.

All at once, from the innermost center of the cloud, a bolt of black lightning exploded. It flashed darkly, sizzling, as it shot toward the toxic pool. At its leading edge, it carried the condensed lump of utter darkness fashioned by the vengeance and greed of Narkazan.

The black lightning struck, hurling Narkazan's weapon into the depths. As the lump splashed down, ripples raced across the surface. The mistwraiths crackled louder than ever, as if they couldn't contain their satisfaction.

Then, with surprising swiftness, the mistwraiths vanished. As their cloud disappeared, so did their ominous shadow.

The pool, meanwhile, fell still. No more liquid boiled and bubbled. No more chemicals churned. Even the fumes stopped rising from its surface.

Suddenly . . . something stirred. Deep inside the pool, a new creature struggled to be born, to take shape, to satisfy its overwhelming desires. And when it started to emerge, reaching part of its body made of utter darkness above the surface, it released a cry of unrelenting rage.

That cry shattered the air, echoing ominously.

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