I spoke English, and he answered in his native tongue. But all of us could understand.
Wicked cool.
“You’re new,” a soul said, tilting his head as he observed us. There was an echoing quality to his words. “You’re one of the ones who didn’t die but were banished to these lands. There have been no new Atlanteans for longer than most of us remember…”
It hit me the same moment Asher mutteredfuck.
Atlanteans.Our Atlanteans! This was where they were, stuck here in the underworld for thousands of years. The solid souls were our trapped people.
My throat grew tight. More souls and Atlanteans drifted closer to us, all of them observing us with no malice. “How did you get here?” The soul was not suspicious. This world did not have any need for suspicion, but he was curious.
I decided honesty was our ticket. “We need to find the Hellbringers, destroy the gods who are trying to destroy us, and release the Atlanteans from their prison.”
Whatever noise had remained after my first revelation completely died away. Somehow they’d all heard me.
Those who were solid pushed forward, and I ran my eyes over as many as I could, noting that they were dressed in what I could only guess was traditional Atlantean garb. Their clothes were natural colors, ivory and brown and white, with some splashes of cerulean and aquamarine to break it up. The women wore silk saris tied at their waists, and another strip across their breasts, the men just around their waists, and all of them were covered in the sort of ink that Asher had marked me with. So many tattoos covered their skin.
“Who are you?” one of the women asked, her long white-blond hair falling almost to her ankles.
Most of them had white blond hair, with just a few other shades of blond sprinkled about. How had I not noticed all of this when we first walked through?
They were hiding their true selves.Asher said in my mind.Blending in with the dead among them.
“My name is Maddison,” I said to the waiting Atlanteans. “I am one of the children that your last kings and queens had, one from the gods.”
Some chatter burst through at this revelation.
“We did not see the birth of those children,” someone said, from further back in the crowd. “Atlantis was sunk before it was possible. We were thrown into the underworld and had to fight our way to this land.”
Looking around, I took a deep breath. “We don’t have much time, so I’m going to give you the condensed version of everything that has happened since you disappeared.”
Asher remained silent at my side, but his support was consistent as I explained as much as I could. “It has been ten thousand years since you left—” none of them had aged a damn day in that time—“and the gods are back again, wanting to destroy the world. For good this time. They believe they can remake it, with themselves as the supreme leaders. We must stop them.”
“How are you … so young? Where have you been for the last ten thousand years?” These questions came from another woman.
“Atlantis sank,” I told her, “but the three god children were kept in stasis, only freed in the past twenty years. The gods were freed as well, and now they want to finish what they started.”
I went on to explain about my parents, Asher’s parents, and how we were determined not to let them win.
“We’re on your side. We want to free you and return you to Atlantis, your home.”
“What if we don’t want to return to that land of the living,” a small girl asked.
I looked down and my smile fractured … as did my heart.
Dropping to one knee, I got down on her level, my eyes clashing with huge dark gray ones, the color reminding me of an early morning storm. She was innocent, but there was a sense of ancient energy about her as well. “Hi,” I said softly. “My name is Maddison. What’s yours?”
Her perfect pink lips, with a cupid bow, stretched as the smallest of smiles tilted the corners. “My name is Nameen. I’m six.”
She was six, and she’d been six for ten thousand years. My gods.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Nameen.”
Before I could stop her, she moved forward, and in the innocent way only a child had, wrapped her arms around me in a gentle hug. “You look like a princess,” she whispered against me, and my heart ached so hard I wondered if it was still functioning in my chest. “I love your hair.”
Unlike the translucent soul, she felt solid, and I sucked down tears as I held on to her for a few seconds longer. Eventually, though, I had to let go.
“I’m scared,” she said as she pulled away. “It’s safe here. Mumma talks about home, and it doesn’t sound safe there.”
