Max stood there for a sec, stunned by the strange turn of events. But then he recalled the two who’d been beating on him earlier—he assumed they were leviathans as well—and he snapped from his stupor and pivoted, raising his fists. His former opponents looked from him to the dead leviathan on the ground, their eyes growing huge. Shouting to the comrades still duking it out with Boone, they took off into the night. A moment later the last three leviathans darted past Max, shooting him wary looks.
His face wearing the same befuddlement Max felt, Boone stepped outside. Glad as he was to see his best friend hadn’t received any worse battle scars than him, Max was more preoccupied with getting to Willa. He raced to her side and helped her up. She gaped at his wounds, all ounce of color leaching from her skin. “You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.” Emotion choking him, he brushed his shaking fingertips over every inch of her face. “I thought you were dead. It was the most horrible moment of my life.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. Believe me, I know what it’s like.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him tenderly, her eyes glistening. “Fortunately, it turns out you were right about the nymph immunity to sirens. Guess sharks aren’t the only ones that are blessed with that benefit.” She gasped. “That reminds me. I’m pretty sure Aurele is around here somewhere.”
“We’ll have to look for her later, sweetheart. Reva took the trident. We’ve got to stop her before she reaches the Altar of Atlantis.”
Apparently Willa needed no further reminder of the direness of the situation because she dashed toward the dunes. He and Boone set off after her. They reached the Atlantic’s frothing tide and dove into the waves. Max stretched his hand toward Willa, intending to steer her in the proper direction of the portal to Atlantis. She surprised him by beelining straight for it, obviously requiring no guidance from him. Looked like her memories were back intact.
Minutes later they arrived at the narrow, rippling membrane of the portal, and its welcoming light illuminated the watery depths with a golden glow. He fell back, allowing Willa and Boone to pass through ahead of him. Once they’d cleared the entrance, he started in after them. A thunderous rumble shook through the passage. He stopped, the sensors along the nape of his neck screaming a warning. Lunging forward, he opened his mouth in a shout. Boone glanced back just as an avalanche of water propelled Max backward like a cork shot from a bottle.
The last thing Max saw before the tidal wave took him was the portal closing.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Even though she’d faced her fears and conquered them, being shot through a portal like she was on a terrifying rollercoaster ride from hell still wasn’t on Willa’s list of things to try again anytime soon.
Shrieking, she tumbled, over and over, gravity and water slip-sliding her everywhere. Up ahead, she noticed a golden glow very similar to the one back at the entrance to the portal. An instant later she was crashing through it, a cascade of water splashing her flat onto her back. Winded, she gasped like a fish out of water, trying to catch her breath. The analogy was a fitting one. Overhead, the sky rippled. She blinked as she realized she was looking at the bottom of the ocean.
She’d reached Atlantis.
She pushed to her feet and stirred her hands through the air. It consisted of water, though a different density and composition than that existing on Earth. Here you could easily maneuver as if you were walking on air. What’s more, you didn’t need to be Atlantean to be able to breathe in it. There were other humans besides her father who had lived in Atlantis. The mermaids were fond of bringing their rescued shipwrecked sailors home for a little mattress mamboing. Then there was the whole Bermuda Triangle thing. Yep, a lot of those folks ended up here.
She glanced around, making out the decaying ruins surrounding her. All these years later the sight of them still filled her with sadness, knowing the majesty of what they’d once been. She remembered then her mother’s true dream. It hadn’t been about ruling Atlantis, but to see her homeland restored. Unfortunately, the problem of existing under water, even that as delicate as Atlantis’s, meant eventual structural corrosion. The materials used to construct the university and the palace were much more durable, but also exceptionally expensive. Maybe one day she’d be able to find a way to make her mother’s dream come true—the only true legacy that’d ever mattered to Estelle Jameson.
But first she had to find that bitch Reva and stop her.
Uncertain when Max and Boone would arrive through the portal, she decided to take off on her own. Max would probably be furious about that, but time was ticking. Setting off at a run, she raced through the labyrinth of ruins, her gaze locked on the towering spires of the palace in the distance. Thick, spongy moss absorbing the shock of her sprinting feet, she arrived at the woods bordering the palace. As with the water, this forest was nothing like anything found on Earth. The lacy, bracken-like foliage of the Atlantean trees shimmered with a brilliant phosphorescence that provided the entire realm with a light source. Taking advantage of the tree’s luminescence, she barreled along the flagstone walkway leading to the palace. Her lungs burning from exertion, she sprinted up the seemingly endless flight of steps until she reached the palace’s intricately carved doors.
Trembling, she reached for the handle—a smaller representation of Poseidon’s trident. It’d been more than twenty-two years since she’d stepped past this threshold. Would the horror of what she’d witnessed behind these walls bring her to her knees? She needed to be strong. Needed to see this through. For the family and friends she’d lost. For the ones that she could still save.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and entered the cavernous receiving hall. All evidence of blood and death had been wiped clean. Relieved shivers trembled her limbs. She waited for the memories to crash into her. The terrible images inched close, only to be swept away as she remembered the glorious receptions that’d been held in this room, all the pomp and pageantry a royal event always entailed. She remembered dancing in her parents’ arms, their love and laughter better than any party in existence.
Those were the memories she would cherish. The ones she would hold on to.
She started across the hall, heading for the cathedral where the Altar of Atlantis was kept. Quickening her pace, she streaked through the palace, ignoring the painful cramp in her side. Dashing the final few yards, she leapt across the entry into the cathedral, only to slam to a halt, her legs threatening to buckle.
The trident was lodged in the altar.
“Oh my…goddess.” She covered her mouth, the bile building in her throat. She swallowed, struggling to hold it back.
A shadow moved to the left. “As you can see, you’re too late.”
Reva Bellemuir stepped in front of the altar. “Apparently you didn’t get the memo, seeing as how you’re also supposed to be dead.” The duchess’s eyebrows arched in haughty condescension. “Not that it matters. You soon will be. Along with all the rest of the human scourge.”
A fierce bellow escaping her, Willa lunged at the duchess, ramming into her with enough force to knock the siren into the altar. Reva clawed at Willa’s face, adding several more scratches before trying to gouge out her eyes. They kicked and screamed, tearing at each other’s hair. Reva fought like a girl. Willa also fought like a girl…from the Bronx. Positioning her fist for the most effective hit, she punched Reva in the nose again. If it hadn’t been busted before, it was now. Screeching, Reva retaliated by clubbing Willa in the side of her head.