Seaborne (5 page)
Authors: Katherine Irons
Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Chick-Lit, #Mythology
She made her escape into the old-fashioned elevator that her grandmother had installed twenty-five years ago. “Yes!” She smiled as the door slid shut, hit the gold button, and rode to the first floor.
“Thank you, Nana,” she murmured. Of course, she could have had elevators put in the house herself, if they hadn’t been here. But the modern ones were all shiny metal with cagelike doors. Her grandmother’s elevator was polished wood, gold framed mirrors, and spacious enough for three wheelchairs and a standing passenger or two. When the elevator reached the first floor, Claire rolled the gauntlet between Mrs. Godwin and the girl scrubbing the kitchen floor, and escaped the house.
The sun was shining; the sky was blue. And she just knew that Morgan would appear in the surf just off her beach. He had to.
Morgan arrived home just as the sun rose in the east, casting a golden glow over the surface of the water thousands of feet above the tallest monuments and rooftops in the city of Atlantis. He had arrived without fanfare, shielding his face in the folds of a cloak to keep from being recognized by passersby. He approached the palace by way of the garden and entered by a service archway that led to the kitchens.
The palace was large, but he quickly made his way past the storerooms where food and serving plates and glassware were stored. He took a narrow, twisting staircase, through a little-used door and strode past two of the palace guard. Now, it didn’t matter if he was seen, and his royal insignia gave him free access.
Morgan returned the soldiers’ salutes and strode down a marble-lined corridor, part of the oldest section of the complex. Few, other than the family, used this passageway, but he loved the huge blocks with their carvings that predated the earliest Atlantean colonies. He always wondered who the craftsmen had been and how they managed to lift such huge stones and fit them together so tightly that not even seaweed could penetrate the cracks.
As he rounded a corner and took a low hallway that led off deeper into the maze of living quarters, he found the way ahead in shadows. Even this area was always illuminated, and he stopped, thinking that it might be wiser to take another route. As children, he and his brothers and sisters and cousins had played here, roaming at will. He knew these passageways. At least he used to, but that was so long ago. Perhaps …
Annoyed at his own hesitation, Morgan hurried on. The sooner he talked with his mother, the sooner he’d—
Abruptly, a door opened and a hand grabbed his shoulder and yanked him in. Morgan reached for his sword, but not before someone else grabbed his arms and attempted to pin them behind him.
“Well, Brother, what mischief have you been up to?” a familiar voice taunted.
CHAPTER 5
“P
eace, Brother, it’s just us,” rumbled another familiar voice.
eace, Brother, it’s just us,” rumbled another familiar voice.
“Orion?” Morgan swore a foul oath, and stopped struggling. His brothers! No danger here, but someone’s bad idea of a joke.
Laughter burst from the man behind him as he released Morgan’s arms. Morgan spun around and hugged his young brother Alexandros. “What are you two trying to do—get yourselves killed?” Morgan demanded.
Alex ignored him and wrapped him in an equally enthusiastic embrace. It was like being hugged by a giant octopus.
Orion slapped Morgan on the back with a blow that nearly caused Morgan to stumble and joined in the laughter. “You’re getting slow and soft,” he taunted playfully. “A year ago, we’d never have gotten away with that.”
“A year ago, Alex wasn’t that strong,” Morgan said. “What have you been feeding him?”
“We could have sliced and diced you before you got your weapon out,” Alex said. “What were you thinking to wander around the palace without hunting us down first?”
“I didn’t know you were back,” he answered.
“Back and ready to take you on,” Alex teased.
“Take me on? We’ll see about that.” Morgan clutched Alex’s throat and pretended to choke him. His hands were big, but Alex’s throat was massive. His little brother had put on muscle as well as strength.
Orion, still chuckling, slid aside a stone panel, flooding the low-ceilinged room with light. Releasing Alex, Morgan blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. His pulse slowed, and he grinned at his brothers in earnest. Although he didn’t want to admit it, they had surprised him. If it had been Caddoc and his minions, it might have been a fatal error. “Slow and soft, eh?” he muttered.
“I wanted Alex to pick a different spot to waylay you.” Orion gestured toward the hundreds of bright-colored runes and hieroglyphics carved into the walls and the curved ceiling. “This place always did give me the creeps.”
Alex chuckled. “I like it.”
“I’m with you, Orion,” Morgan agreed.
“You’ve got to admit that it’s impressive,” Alex said.
Morgan gazed around. It had been years since he’d been here, and he had to agree with Alex that it was impressive.
Columns, carved in the style of great shaggy-barked trees, and glowing red with an inner fire, stood at the corners, their intertwined branches and broad leaves spreading up into the ceiling. The walls were set with fire-baked tiles, the images on each one as bright and distinct as the day the artist had painted them. Every inch of exposed surface bore rows of story runes chronicling the founding and building of a city so old that no one could remember the name of it or where it had stood.
Morgan had always had a feeling that the echoing chamber was haunted by the ghosts of lost souls. It was not the bloody scenes of battle or sacrificed victims, the stepped pyramids, the sketches of sea monsters, or the rendering of an exploding volcano that had frightened him when he was small. It was the record of flying ships from the stars and the terrifying creatures that had traveled to this planet in them.
One star beast in particular had given Morgan repeated nightmares. The alien’s purple face stared out at him with huge triangular eyes that the artist had set with iridescent shells, so that the gaze seemed to follow the viewer. So realistic was the starman’s penetrating gaze that it had sent seven-year-old Morgan—who had once driven off a twenty–foot squid with only a child’s trident—running to his mother in tears.
Yet, this ancient room, for all its power to enthrall, remained a testament to the imagination of men. Morgan wondered what Claire would think of it. Would she be afraid of the starmen? Or would she be intrigued by the egg-shaped spheres that they had piloted through the vast distances of space—impossibly shaped ships that bore no sails or rudders. The impulse to share this place with her seized him with surprising force.
“Have you seen him yet?” Alex asked, jerking Morgan out of his reverie and back to the present.
“What?”
“Our sire,” Orion said. “The king. Have you talked to him?”
Morgan shook his head. “Poseidon? No, I haven’t.”
He hadn’t spoken with either of their parents. His father would be disappointed in him and would tell him so in no uncertain terms, but he hoped the high queen would be more sympathetic. Technically, Korinna was his stepmother, but she had filled the role of mother in every sense for so long that he could barely remember the face of the woman who had given birth to him.
“You’ll have to stand trial,” Alex said, laying a broad hand on his shoulder. “Caddoc made a formal charge.”
“I thought he would.”
“That bitch Halimeda and her clan will be after your blood.” Orion scowled and tapped the hilt of his sword.
No courtly weapons for Orion; his was one of a kind, forged of some black, almost obsidianlike, metal. The hilt was silver, worked to the exact shape of Orion’s hand, and the blade a yard long and the width of a big man’s hand, so sharp that a human male could shave with it. Orion claimed that the sword was made of part of a starman’s flying ship, but Orion was full of fancy, and Morgan never knew just what was true and what was for effect.
Lady Halimeda, Caddoc’s mother and one of his father’s minor wives, was a greater threat than her son. It was Halimeda who had fired the jealousy and ambition in Caddoc’s heart. Morgan believed her quite capable of poisoning anyone, even Poseidon, if she thought it would advance her schemes. And she could call on a large family of allies to back her.
“Lady Halimeda after my blood is nothing new,” Morgan said. “I’d be more concerned if she defended me. Then I’d know that I was scheduled for a fatal dose of something, sooner rather than later.” Some called Halimeda a sorceress, but Morgan didn’t think so. She was a beautiful and sensual being. It was more likely that it was the spell she spun in his father’s bed rather than an alliance with the powers of darkness that gave her clout.
“Alex wanted to challenge Caddoc to a duel,” Orion said, “but I told him that it might only make things worse.”
“It would if you killed him.” Morgan said to Alex. “You’d be banished.” The murder of one Atlantean by another was the greatest sin, unfortunately one that did take place from time to time.
“Somebody’s going to have to,” Alex replied brusquely. “It may as well be me as you. I’m not the crown prince.”
Alex’s easygoing exterior masked the heart of a lethal killer. Morgan had no doubt that Alex was capable of making good on his suggestion, but he didn’t want to think of the consequences.
“Let’s go,” Orion said.
Ducking under a low archway, Morgan followed him through a labyrinth of intertwining hallways, with Alex close behind. Some passageways led deeper into the ocean floor; others ascended stone ramps that led to glorious receiving rooms, splendid with the treasures of ancient civilizations. Now and then they passed a guard, a group of nobles, or one of those who served the inhabitants of the palace. But other than a salute, a bow, or a word of greeting, none were rude enough to disturb the royal trio’s conversation.
One final marble staircase and Orion turned left into his quarters. They crossed the ornate garden with the Babylonian mineral spring pool, the massive urns that had once stood outside a king’s palace in Crete, and rows of purple swaying kelp. Immediately, small sea creatures ventured out to nudge against Orion, hoping for treats. There were schools of tiny emerald-green fish, three spirited, young sea horses, and a lazy sting ray. Orion paused to scratch the scarred old ray’s back and offer a tidbit, which the ray took daintily.
For a warrior of the highest rank, Orion had a love of beauty and a knack for growing things, fish, mammal, and plant life. When not engaged in defending his kingdom, he was quite happy puttering in his own yard, transplanting flowers and harvesting vegetables, fruit, and seaweed.
“You should have been a farmer,” Alex teased, giving the ray a pat.
“I might have, in gentler times,” Orion agreed. “Or if I hadn’t been born a son of Poseidon.”
Morgan shrugged. “And when were there gentler times?”
In the inner courtyard, high-backed benches surrounded a low marble table. Latticework of living coral, softened by swaying twelve-foot high fronds of kelp, formed a backdrop. Blue and yellow schools of fish swam through the coral wall and around the Etruscan marble statues, adding to the beauty of the area. As the brothers took seats at the table, several servants came rushing from the house to welcome Morgan with open arms and ask if the princes desired food or drink.
Morgan greeted them by name and exchanged hugs. They were people he had known for many centuries and were more like friends than staff. They spoke briefly and Morgan asked after their families before Orion waved them away with the excuse that he hadn’t seen his older brother in months and the king would be expecting him.
When the three were alone, Orion leaned forward and grasped Morgan’s forearm in a hard grip. “We were worried about you. Is it true you saved a human from drowning, or is this another of Caddoc’s lies?”
Morgan nodded. “A fisherman. Just a boy. I couldn’t stand by and let him die.”
Alex listened intently as Morgan related his tale. When he’d finished, Alex asked, “What you did is against the law, true enough, but it’s not something I haven’t done. Your mistake was being caught.”
“True enough,” Morgan agreed. He looked from one to the other, noting the new scar on Orion’s chest and the faint marks of a recent battle with a shark that bisected Alex’s shoulder and upper arm.
A flicker of a smile played over Alex’s lips. “Why do I think you’re not telling us everything? You’re in deeper trouble than you’ve admitted, aren’t you?”
Orion raised an eyebrow. “If I didn’t know my saintly brother better, I’d suspect a woman might be involved.”
“You always have women on your mind,” Morgan said.
“Right. Out with it,” Alex said.
Morgan glanced from one to the other again and slowly exhaled, wondering if he should confide in the two of them. They were, after all, utterly trustworthy, and three heads might be better than one in working out his dilemma concerning Claire. He had other brothers, some he loved dearly, but none were as close to him as these two.
“Well?” Orion said.
“Let’s hear it,” Alex echoed.
The twins were identical, blond, and nearly as tall as Morgan, equally endowed with muscle and intelligence. Both men wore the blue-and-gold kilt and insignia of the elite warrior class. Orion’s chest band also bore four silver tridents, signifying an officer who had led his company into suicide missions four times, and lived to tell the tale. Alex had won his share of awards, but disdained to display them. In wartime, he was more effective working alone, often as an assassin.
Although he was the oldest and crown prince, Morgan suspected that either of these two brothers would make a better king than he would be. Certainly, both were fearless warriors; Orion was slightly more levelheaded in leading troops, but if he were pressed, Morgan’s choice for the throne would have been Alex, younger of the twins, with his intense intuitive powers. Poseidon had to be strong and possess great leadership qualities, but most important, he had to be wise. Right now, Morgan felt lacking in all those attributes.
“It is a woman,” Orion said. “He’s thinking with his phallus. What have you done now, Morgan?”
Alex’s penetrating gaze met Morgan’s. “It’s a human woman, isn’t it?”
“By Zeus’s foreskin, you’re right!” Orion’s eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t think you had it in you, big brother.” He laughed. “How was she?”
Morgan tensed, anger rising up from deep inside. “It’s not like that,” he muttered. “I didn’t—”
“You’re a saint.” Orion shrugged. “You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last to break that commandment. Human females can be delicious.”
“Speak for yourself,” Alex corrected. “I’ve never seen one I’d be willing to risk my career for, but I’m not the expert.” Alex gestured at his twin. “He’s fathered more than one half-human babe in the last century.”
“I’m cutting back,” Orion insisted. “I haven’t been with a human female in—”
“Months,” his twin finished. “What about that Maori girl, the one with the outrigger canoe? The one who tried to brain you with a club?”
“Pania is not part of this discussion.” Orion scowled at Alex.
“I’m just saying.” Alex rolled his eyes. “That oldest boy of hers could swim underwater longer than any human child—”
“That boy is a great-grandfather. It happened a long time ago.”
“So it’s not just a rumor,” Morgan put in. “You have fathered—”
Orion fisted his right hand and smacked it in his left. “I just told you. It was a long time ago.” His brow tightened and his green eyes took on a hard edge.
“Maybe by human standards,” Alex said. “And the Maori woman did try to kill him.”
Morgan could see that Orion was no longer amused by the turn of the conversation. “I didn’t have intercourse with her,” he said, “but I wanted to.”
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