Madly & the Jackal (3 page)

All solid structures in Atlas, from homes to businesses to official buildings, were constructed of the earth’s wealth of minerals and natural elements.  They were harvested from the vast canyons and deep mines that dotted the ocean floor, locations humans lacked the technology to reach. 

Silver, gold, quartz, pearl, clam and oyster shells, salt,  even rough jewels like rubies, diamonds, emeralds and sapphires, jewels that would be incredibly valuable in the world above—all of them and many more were used in various combinations to construct the unshakable buildings that peppered the lush landscape of Atlas.

Jackson tugged on my hand and we set off down the street, toward the center of town.  As we walked, I admired the small parks that graced every third intersection.  They were like squares of dry land, from their thick grass to their crops of various trees.  The only things they contained peculiar to Atlas were their selection of exotic flowers. 

At the square up ahead, I could see clumps of
Tasanus
flowers clinging to the trunk of a maple tree like fluffy yellow puffs of cotton. Standing in elegant twists on either side of the maple were two
Plackarra
plants—tall spikes of greenery that resembled spiral topiaries, only these dripped with bright orange blooms that dangled like drops of sunshine from every branch.

Each park was different, but one was just as stunning as the next.  Atlas was like utopia, a paradise with all the advantages of dry land yet none of the disadvantages.  I enjoyed every square we passed, more enthralled with the beauty and balance than ever before.

We passed many Mer.  They all seemed to be going about their business as if all was well.  I began to wonder how much they knew of what was going on.  I suspected they weren’t fully informed.  Life in Atlas appeared far too normal.

“Jackson, don’t you—”

“Ah ah ah!” he cautioned softly.  “That’s John to you.”

He glanced sideways and winked at me, gently reminding me that we had covert identities to maintain if we expected to succeed.

“Sorry,” I said, grinning sheepishly.  “
John
, do you think the rest of Atlas knows what’s going on?  I mean, look at them.  They act as if it’s business as usual.”

“Look closer,” he said, keeping a keen eye on our surroundings.  “Where are the royals?  When was the last time you could remember looking around town and seeing no royals?”

My heart sank when I
really
looked at the Mer that were out and about.  Each of them had some shade of black, brown or red hair.  There was not one blonde head as far as the eye could see.

“Ohmigod, Jack—er, John, what is going on?”

How had some malevolent force managed to get the upper hand on a powerfully magical people such as the Mer?  And how could Jackson and I make a difference against such a force?  I felt the odds of our success sink to dismal depths.

“Just exactly what we planned to do from the beginning—we’re going to find your father.  He may be the only person we can trust and he’s bound to know more about what’s going on than anyone else.  I mean, he’s the one who—”

Jackson stopped suddenly, his eyes darting quickly toward me and away again.

“What?  He’s the one who what?”

He didn’t answer right away, which both irritated and concerned me.  I had already figured out I didn’t know everything that was going on, but I had
assumed
they’d told me everything there was to know about my parents.

I pulled up suddenly, putting my hand on Jackson’s arm to stop him as well.

“Tell me, Jackson,” I said, not caring about our secret identities at the moment.

Jackson sighed, rubbing his fingers across his forehead.  It was apparent that he hadn’t really wanted to tell me something, but it had to do with my father and I had to know.  It was my right.

“He was the source.  He was the one who managed to get out long enough to get communication to Commander Jessup at Transport.”

“That’s good then, right?  I mean, that means he’s alive and that…”  I trailed off when I saw Jackson’s lips thin in concern.  “What?  What am I missing?”

I felt like so much had happened, I didn’t really have a good grasp on anything as simple as my name, much less things of a remotely complex or emotionally wrought nature.

“He had to get back in before someone realized he’d managed to get out.  If he didn’t or if he was discovered, he felt like they would punish him somehow.  Him or his family.  And since they have Truly...”

I felt the blood drain from my face.  It was just as bad as I’d originally thought.  It was quite possible that
if
my father had even made it back inside, that he’d been discovered and the traitors had done something to either him or my sister in retribution. 

I felt sick.  My stomach clenched and knotted and roiled.  My very constitution was rebelling against the idea that something had happened to my family.  I closed my eyes briefly, swallowing the bile that had bubbled into my throat to suffocate me.

Although he couldn’t see me, I was determined to make my father proud.  I’d push aside every bit of emotion that I could in order to be the princess, the
leader
he’d raised me to be. 

I had never fully understood the hefty price of being a royal.

Until now.

“Was he able to tell Commander Jessup anything else?  Give us any idea of what was going on or who was behind it?”

“No.  Understandably, he was very rushed.  That was all the information we were able to get before he had to go.”  Jackson turned to face me, rubbing his hands up and down my upper arms soothingly.  “Madly, he’s fine.  I’ve never met a stronger, more dedicated Mer than your father.  You know what he’s like.  He’d never let them win.  Never!”

Jackson smiled, trying to encourage me and, though I knew he was probably right, I couldn’t completely vanquish the fear that pressed in on my chest.

“Well, I guess we’re about to find out,” I declared, taking a shaky breath.

Jackson slid one hand down and tangled his fingers with mine.  Together, we turned toward Central Square.  We could just make it out in the distance.

From that point on, I ceased to notice and appreciate the beauty of Atlas.  I was consumed with the effort of discarding all the worst case scenarios that seemed determined to flood my mind.  The action of Jackson’s fingers squeezing mine brought me back from a dark swirling pit of hopeless despair.

I looked up and there, looming ahead was what Jersey called the mini-Mahal, short for miniature Taj Mahal.  It was the Warden’s Mansion.  It was my home. 

The vision hit my soul like a sip of water to a parched tongue.  Looking at it reminded me of the strong, loving, unstoppable force that was my father.  His amazing personality and strong leadership was reflected in every graceful yet sturdy line of the structure. 

Made entirely of snowy white marble, the home of the Warden Major was built thousands of years ago.  It was built to last and built to impress. 

The mansion sat atop a small knoll, the only one in all of Atlas.  It was visible from nearly any point in the entire city.  It provided a graphic reminder that the Warden Major was ever watchful, ensuring the safety of the Mer and always acting in their best interests.  If it was possible for a structure—any cold, hard, non-living thing—to accomplish all that, the Warden’s mansion did.  It was awe-inspiring and comforting all at the same time.

Though I’d spent nearly every night of my entire life within the privileged walls of the mini-Mahal, I was still moved by all that it stood for and how those very principles were being tested as I looked on from the street.  It was upsetting to say the least, but it also functioned as a great motivator to see that the balance of power in Atlas was restored to those rightfully destined to lead the Mer.  And whoever had stolen the bracelet and released the Lore was
not
such a leader.

“Alright,” Jackson said quietly.  “We’ll go in like any other visitor.  When the Sentinel in charge of the gates asks about our appointment, I’m going to give him a code word that only upper level Sentinels and a few select government officials know about, so don’t look surprised.”

“What is it?”

Jackson paused.  “Marmoset.”

“Marmoset?”

“Marmoset.”

I wasn’t sure if laughter was appropriate, but that’s certainly what I felt like doing—laughing.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was encouraged that I could find humor in the world, humor with the man I loved, even in the worst of times.  It was just another reminder that there was much for which to fight.

“Marmoset it is,” I said, still struggling to keep a straight face. 

“Now you can’t start laughing when I say it, Madly.  Er, Mary.  You’ll give us away,” he warned.

“I won’t,” I said, grinning widely.  “I promise.  I’m just a little…surprised by the choice, that’s all.  What kind of an idiot came up with that?”

Jackson actually blushed beneath his bronze skin.  “The last time it was changed, that honor went to the Sentinel student with the highest achievement scores and that just happened to be me.  That also happened to be the year I’d just discovered Jack Hannah,” he explained sheepishly.  “I had a thing about creatures on dry land.”

“Aw,” I cooed, reaching up to stroke his raspberry cheek.  “You were so adorable back then.”

As far back as I could recall, I had memories of Jackson.  I had seen him in virtually every stage and phase of his life and I think I’d loved him in all of them.  He’d been captivating since birth and I was fairly certain that I had documented just such a fact in the old diary I used to keep.  Jackson would probably get a kick out of seeing it, but it was gone.  Jersey had stolen it as a joke and it ended up drifting away into the open sea, never to be seen again.

“Back then?” Jackson teased with mock indignation.  “And what about now?”

“You graduated from adorable to hot several years ago,” I said, feeling a warm flush suffuse my neck and chest as my pulse rose.  

His pupils dilated and I knew we had to change the subject.  I got the distinct impression that Jackson and I would have to be very careful to not let our chemistry get out of hand.  The attraction I felt for him was intensified dozens of times as a result of the mating tie.  It was getting harder and harder to keep my hands off him.  And it would only get worse with time.

“I did, huh?” he purred, one corner of his mouth tilting up into a cocky grin.

“You know you did,” I said, smacking his chest playfully.

“So what you’re saying is that you’ve been stalking me for years.”

“No!” I exclaimed, feeling the burn of blood in my own cheeks.  Even though for all intents and purposes I had already confessed, I still wasn’t yet comfortable admitting those kinds of things to Jackson.  “You were Jersey’s brother.  I didn’t really have a choice but to notice.”

“You had a crush on me all this time,” he kidded in a sing-song voice.

“Whatever,” I replied casually, rolling my eyes and looking away, embarrassed.

“Good,” he chirped happily.  “Then we’re even.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I told you that I knew I loved you before your father sent me away.  What I
didn’t
tell you was that I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you all your life.”  Jackson reached forward and grabbed a single lock of hair from my shoulder, twisting it between his thumb and forefinger.  As he stared at the blonde strand, he said bemusedly, “I think I’ve loved you all
my
life.”

My heart tripped over itself.  That’s exactly how I felt—that I’d loved Jackson since before time began, like there was never a moment in my entire existence when I was pining for him, even before I knew it
was
him.  My heart knew.  My soul knew.  It had always been Jackson.  And it always would be.

With my heart in my throat, all I could manage to squeak out around the lump was, “I know.”

We stood close, nearly nose to nose, on the sidewalk in front of my parents’ home, more in love than I could ever have hoped for, and yet Atlas was in more danger than ever.  How could such good coexist with such horror?

Giving the strand of hair he held one last swipe with his thumb, Jackson inhaled deeply.

“Are you ready for this?”

I inhaled, too.

“Lead the way,
John.”

Jackson grinned, took my hand and led me to the guard house at the gates of the mansion.  The Sentinel on duty looked to be a little older than Jackson.  His post was still an impressive one for someone his age.  Most Sentinels didn’t get very good or very important details until they were much older and far more experienced.  Jackson, obviously, was the ultimate exception because Jackson was the ultimate warrior.  There had never been another Sentinel like him.  Everyone knew it.  No one knew why or what made him so special, so capable and strong.  Everyone just accepted it.  It simply was. 
He
simply was.  He was Jackson, a force to be reckoned with.  End of story.

The guard approached the small window of the shack. 

“State your business, sir,” he said, stern but respectful.

“We’ve got an appointment to see the Warden Major about a request he’d submitted to the Wildlife Authority several months back.  It was in regards to a marmoset.  It’s a bit of a long story, but my wife and I are rehabilitators and we’ve been nursing one back to health for some time now and we’d like to find her a good home.  We’re hoping the Warden will take her.”