ORION OVER ATLANTIS

Dana Lyons

About Orion Over Atlantis

Legend speaks of a Goddess that rises from Atlantis with Orion at her side.

Aija, a power and force to be reckoned with.

Orion, cursed at birth, or so he thought.

Are they fated lovers?

Or star-crossed and doomed?

In a land long ago, a powerful young woman discovers a conspiracy of corruption that will destroy all. When a fated lover enters her life, she must decide what’s most important.

It’s a game of love versus power. Can she defeat an evil that would curse them as star-crossed? Will true hearts win? Or will evil tear them asunder?

CHAPTER ONE

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THE CONTINENT OF ATLANTIS

Nasri panted in between labor pains, determined not to scream with the birth of this special child. In the corner of their hut, her husband Meta paced, his face rippled with concern.

By the fire pit, the shaman spread a sacred cloth along with crystals, a vial of anointing oil, and sage to cleanse the babe’s aura after the trauma of birth. As her labor pains progressed, the shaman muttered and glanced at the fire, a disturbing frown on his face. Despite his worrisome behavior, her time was almost here and she grabbed the midwife’s hand. “Help me up.”

The midwife exclaimed, “Madam, you are about to give birth. You can’t go walking about!”

Nasri gave the woman a sharp glance. “Outside. I will have this baby under the night sky. Now help me up.”

Meta rushed over. “Nasri, what is it?”

“Fear not,” she soothed. “I merely want fresh air and a night sky for our son’s birth. I promise.” She smiled and squeezed his hand.

He nodded and wrapped his arm about her shoulders. Between him and the midwife, they carried her outside and placed her on a blanket against a tree. Gasping with an oncoming pain, she glanced at the hunter in the sky, Orion, especially noticeable as the comet Corbo, named for its raven-like wings, flew across the middle of the constellation.

Another pain cut across her abdomen just as the raven comet cut across Orion. Unable to hold back any longer, she screamed into the empty landscape.

“Push, now, madam,” the midwife ordered. “Your babe eagerly fights to join the living.”

Nasri threw her head back and pushed with all her might, screaming with the pain, with the need to have this over, with the determination of a woman birthing a special child. As the baby’s head emerged, a wave of relief came and she slumped against the tree, gathering her strength for the next push.

“The babe is fine and the nose is cleared. Now, madam, give your all to bring this child fully into life.”

As Nasri inhaled to gather her remaining strength, she noticed the shaman. He stood rigid and obviously possessed by a vision, with a large crystal clutched in his hands. But the time had come for her child and she closed her eyes, grunted and pushed, shrieking with the effort.

A mass ejected from her body, bringing incredible relief. She sagged, crying, and held out her arms. “My babe. Let me see my—”

“Son,” the midwife said. “You have born a son.” She wiped the boy clean and held him up for all to see.

Nasri’s heart filled with incomprehensible love for this young life. She had dreamed of his arrival, dreamed of his future, dreamed of his destiny.

The shaman walked over, his trance having passed, and grabbed the boy’s right hand. “Look.” He pried the tiny fist open and revealed a cluster of several dark freckles and moles in the shape of the Orion constellation in his palm. “Born beneath the light of Orion, he bears the mark.”

“See,” Nasri told Meta, “I told you he would be special.”

The midwife tugged the baby loose from the shaman’s hold, wrapped him in a soft blanket, and placed the boy in Nasri’s arms. “What will you name him?”

She took her son and nestled him next to her nipple. The baby’s lips attached to her breast and suckled, sending a shot of reaction through her body. Her placenta contracted and passed free as her abdomen was massaged. Her nipples hardened, and a searing desire to protect this tiny life ripped into her as deeply as the comet overhead ripped into Orion. She gazed at the shaman with his threatening expression. “What means this mark of Orion? What do you see happening to my son?”

The shaman drew to his full height. “The child is cursed, doomed.”

Unimpressed with the shaman’s baseless declaration, she held her baby tighter. “Explain yourself.”

“He carries the mark of Orion and the raven comet.” He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “He is a raven shifter.”

She sighed with relief. Bearing a shifter child was a blessing, one she welcomed. “But why is he cursed?”

“The comet will return to destroy Orion.” He glared at the babe resting on her chest. “Just as he is destroyed,” he said pointing at the child with a scrawny finger, “so shall the land of Atlantis break asunder and fall into the sea.”

A chill ran down her spine. Atlantis had always been doomed. Multiple prophesies spoke of the continent rising and sinking into the sea. She glanced at the red faced, dark haired little slip of life she held at her breast and refused to believe her son was a part of any of the prophesies. “Prattle on, old man. As a shifter he is blessed, and I shall name him Orion after the comet that brought him this gift from the gods.”

The shaman’s beady gaze raked over her and her son. “Heed my words, for a time comes when the gods will take their blessing away. Hide the mark. Hide him.”

* * *

THAT SAME DAY FIVE Years Later

Nasri steeped a mixture of tree bark and ground shells in water, creating a dark brown dye. In the open field beside their home, Orion and Meta played a rousing game of stickball, using a pair of stout tree branches to pummel the ball, a sheep’s bladder stuffed with old rags.

“Papa,” Orion called out in glee as his quick little legs carried him closer to the ball and he swept it into an overturned basket. “I win, Papa,” he cried.

She glanced away, tears filling her eyes. She never forgot the shaman’s warning, and although she knew Orion was a good boy, using the stain assuaged her fears somewhat. She removed the pot from the fire and poured the contents into a glass container. When Orion and Meta ended their game and came in for water, she pulled her son aside. “Come, Orion. It’s time to darken your hand.”

He stood still and let her brush the dye on his flesh. “I have a secret,” he whispered as if she didn’t know.

She examined his hand. While the stain didn’t erase the mark, it did make it difficult to see. When he matured, she’d have to think of something else. For now, they maintained the secret. Like all mothers, she wanted a long life and happiness for her son. Not a moment passed when she didn’t wonder if one day he’d somehow escape the shaman’s words and be free of his supposed destiny. “Yes. You’re a very special boy and you have a secret. Actually, you have two secrets.” He admired the new application of stain once she released him.

“The mark of Orion is one secret,” she said. “And the second secret is that you’re a raven, just like the comet.”

The hand was dry and the mark obscured. He hugged her and planted a loud smack of his lips on her cheek. “Love you, Mama.”

“I love you, son.”

As he scampered off to play, the old trepidation invaded her heart, bringing the chill from the night of his birth, when the shaman announced he was cursed. She gazed at her precious boy, unable to prevent the tears from filling her eyes.

Meta placed an arm on her shoulders. “Care not for what the shaman said. Our boy is his own person.”

“We shall see,” she said. But deep in her heart, she wondered ...

What will his destiny be?

* * *

THAT SAME DAY IN THE City of Atlantis

Carlyle, head priest in the Temple of Light, inserted a sheet of crystal embedded with pyramid record keepers into a slot in a marble console. Beside him, his fellow priests Menin and Protus watched as the invisible screen brightened with energy and light, displaying multiple moving images from the future, along with rows of symbols and text.

Three pairs of eyes followed the action; three sets of shoulders slumped at the end. “What a horrific cataclysm. Have you plotted paths with a change of events?” Protus asked.

“I’ve tried multiple options. The biggest problem is here.” Carlyle pointed to a spot of light in the background of the cosmos. “Venus crosses over both their birth lines, twice. Not only before their births ... but again after the catastrophic event.”

His companions stared at the light of Venus, their faces displaying mutual understanding of the impact this astronomical event brought.

Protus asked, “How do we out maneuver that?”

Dejection dragged at Menin’s shoulders even more. “The appearance of Venus makes them fated lovers.”

“But,” Carlyle said, pointing at the configuration of stars and planets at the time of the cataclysm, “there are two possible ways for this to go. This first appearance of Venus makes them fated lovers, but this second appearance makes them star-crossed lovers. If we steer her away from the fated lover, we facilitate the star-crossed lovers outcome. With a little diligence and effort, we can manipulate her fate to achieve the events we desire.”

“How do you intend to do that?” Protus asked.

Carlyle sent him a sharp glance. Silence fell around them like wet cotton, allowing each one the time to remotely stare off. After some moments, Carlyle answered. “We’ll do whatever we have to.” Considering the many rules they’d broken so far, the frightening specter of just how far they might go edged a little closer.

“We can’t harm her before we steal the scale of Maat to wipe our karmic debt clean,” Menin insisted. “But I fear this child. She’s too powerful.” He glanced about, misery heavy on his shoulders.

Fear and desperation flitted across their faces, an anomaly for men of their power.

“So, what do we do? We need her,” Protus said.

“We keep her trust,” Carlyle answered, coaxing them along. “We bind her to us until she’d never dream of crossing us.”

A collective shiver raced from back to back, for they knew her power ...

Able to kill them all.

A servant came rushing into the room, head bowed. “Masters. Alyria’s labor is proceeding. It’s time.”

Protus glanced about, his face wrinkled with anxiety. “Do you really think this babe about to be born is her?”

“Without a doubt. But the mark, if she bears it, will confirm my fears,” Carlyle answered. He removed the sheet of crystal and inserted another. The screen lit with a view of the cosmos. “The raven comet will return, and eighteen years from this night when it crosses its previous path in Orion—” He stopped and shrugged. “Well, see for yourself.”

On the screen, a speck of light entered from the right and circled behind Orion before coming to the foreground. Arriving from this direction, it crossed the constellation’s face from the opposite side whence it passed five years earlier. The comet reached the center of Orion’s belt and exploded, casting a field of debris and light that obscured the constellation. The explosion of light blinded, an astronomical event heralding the disaster looming over Atlantis.

“Like the comet obliterating Orion,” Carlyle said, “she will bring the destruction to topple us into the sea.” As the comet’s explosion flared across the screen, an ancient quotation appeared at the bottom:

Legend speaks of a Goddess rising from Atlantis with Orion at her side.

Menin asked, “And who is this lover, fated or star-crossed? Do we know who he is?”

“With the constellation destroyed, the Orion at her side must be her lover,” Protus offered. A dismal grimace of defeat filled his face. “Half the countryside named their sons Orion that night five years ago. There must be thousands.”

Carlyle nodded. He couldn’t eliminate every boy named Orion. Neither could he afford to prevent her birth; he both feared and needed her. While he once considered slipping a potion to her mother during gestation, fear of her unknown power held his hand, even for one not yet born.

She will be the goddess who destroys us all.

“Not if I can help it,” he muttered.

A scream tore through the night coming from the Temple of Life. The child they feared more than anything in the cosmos was leaving the womb.

At his companions stricken faces, he instructed, “Love her as you would your own so she loves your as her own, for the moment she learns what we plan, she’ll come to bear on us with all she has.”

When their expressions faltered, he slapped them both on the back. “Come. Let us first confirm her by the mark and greet her. If we’re to manipulate her and her power to our purposes, we must start from the very beginning. We have one chance to survive.”

In the Temple of Life, deep in the hall lined with birthing rooms, Alyria labored. Sweat glistened on her forehead, even as the attendant blotted her with a cool cloth.

Alyria called to the midwife. “How much longer?” Another contraction built, taking her breath.

“You’re almost there. Breathe, Alyria,” the midwife answered. “We’re near to bringing this child into life.”

Alyria gasped with the passing of the pain and gathered her strength for the next round. As she glanced up, three priests entered and hovered just inside the door. Carlyle, Protus, and Menin, the three mightiest men in the land.

What do you want with my babe?

The next pain came and she forgot about the three men, focusing on the baby exiting her body. She screamed into the effort, rising on her elbows and grunting until spit flew from her lips. At last, she felt the babe’s head come through and she caught her breath. Knowing her labor was almost over, she rose in the bed so she could see the midwife’s face.

She’s smiling. Good.

The midwife caught her eyes and nodded. “Now, Alyria.”

Alyria dug her heels into the stirrups and pressed her back against the slanted headboard of the birthing bed. Feeling as though her body were being ripped apart, she ground her teeth and pushed with all her might. The babe slipped free, and she collapsed with exhaustion.

A flurry of activity erupted as the midwife cleaned and wrapped the child before delivering the placenta. The three priests closed in, eyeing the child.

“You have a daughter, Alyria,” the midwife said.

With these words uttered, Menin stepped away and hastily crossed himself in the ancient sign against evil.

Before she could give the priest’s gesture a thought, her daughter cried out with a lusty wail as the midwife passed her into Alyria’s waiting arms. She nestled the babe into her breasts as the child’s little fists waved frantically. When her lips attached to a nipple, the hands opened and her fingers spread wide.

Carlyle peered at her child, examining the little hands. Abruptly, he stepped back and drew the others with him. She heard murmuring and a stiff silence before they broke away and returned to her bedside.

“Alyria, there are auspicious signs surrounding the birth of this child,” Carlyle said.

She didn’t trust them. She’d seen Menin cringe and make the sign. “Such as?”

“In her right hand is the sign of Orion. She’s blessed by the gods. Because of this, we—” He waved to include the two others. “We wish to take a special interest in her. Know we’ll see she receives all she needs. What will you name her?”

Her daughter was a beautiful child, with pale skin and hair, and her eyes were a striking blue. “I shall call her Aija, for happy.”

“Aija,” he repeated softly. “She will be happy, a brave ruler, energetic, courageous, determined.”

With these words, he stroked the silvery soft down on the top of her daughter’s head. Instantly, the babe’s eyes opened and looked straight at him. Instead of reacting with joy, he pulled his hand away and went rigid. His eyes bugged with sudden alarm.

Mystified, Alyria held her breath. What came next was the last thing she expected; her daughter released the nipple and smiled at the priest. “I think she likes you,” she offered hesitantly.

He blinked and smoothly shifted from fear to pretending charm. “I certainly hope so.”

An insincere concoction of a smile gripped his lips, and his black eyes belied his words, leaving her with a chill slipping down her back.

CHAPTER TWO

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AIJA’S FIFTH BIRTHDAY

In the green space outside the Temple of Initiates, Alyria called, “Aija, I have something special for your birthday. Where are you?”

“I’m here beside you, Mama.”

A childish laugh came from Alyria’s left and she grabbed for the voice, even though she couldn’t see the child. Her arms wrapped around warmth, and her daughter materialized, laughing.

“How do you do that, Aija? All the other initiates require a lengthy incantation before cloaking.”

Aija glanced at her soft leather slippers, a gift from her uncles. “It’s true. Even my uncles have to do several gestures to get cloaked. But I figured out a master spell so all I have to do is flick a finger to my thumb and I’m cloaked.”

She raised her gaze with an impish smile and a ready giggle on the tip of her tongue. “Don't tell them; they don't know I can do this.” With a crook of her finger, she motioned for Alyria to bend down. “Sometimes I cloak myself and follow them around.”

Alyria mockingly gasped as though her daughter had committed the greatest crime. “No!” She reached out and grabbed Aija, tickling her until she squealed. With a heart filled with love and fear, she gazed at her very special child. She was tall for her age, and her hair had darkened from silver to ivory and hung to her waist in a braid, but her eyes remained a pale ice blue.

At only five years old, her awareness of her surroundings eclipsed that of most adults. Just as Carlyle had predicted on the night of her birth, she displayed a fierce determination and courage. But her daughter’s proficiency both thrilled and frightened Alyria, especially since her power already surpassed her uncles.

I wouldn’t want to be in her crosshairs.

“Aija, sweetheart, are you all right with all this ... ability?”

Her daughter pulled a solemn face, lips puckered. “I don't want people to be afraid of me. I’d never hurt anyone.”

“Of course not,” Alyria rushed to answer. She rubbed her daughter’s arms, chasing away such thoughts. “You’re the kindest being I’ve ever met, you know that? You have only love for everyone. If anyone else had your power, I’d be afraid.”

The soft words carried weight and truth. Aija nodded in confirmation. “That’s what I’ve always thought. With anyone else it might be scary.” She glanced away briefly, as though considering the list of those people her astute perceptions considered scary.

“What other master spells have you done?”

Aija’s expression comically turned far too serious for a five-year-old. She glanced side to side, even though there wasn’t a soul in sight. “All of them, Mama.” She drew her shoulders up with a silent squeal, a grin of pride piercing her hesitant yet guilty eyebrows.

Alyria’s chin dropped with a mixture of amazement and dread. “What else can you do?” Instantly, her daughter’s voice chirped in her head.

I can link mind to mind.

I love you, sweetheart. But you must keep these abilities to yourself. You understand that, don't you?

Yes. I know, Mama.

What else?

Aija glanced at a large potted tree and barely lifted her chin. The heavy piece scooted sideways.

Alyria’s eyes grew large. “What else?”

“This one’s my favorite.” Aija snapped her little fingers.

The next thing Alyria knew, her daughter laughed from the far side of the green space.

What did you do?

Aija came running back and arrived giggly and breathless, motioning for her to bend down. Alyria went to her knees so Aija could whisper in her ear.

“I can stop time, Mama. It’s the most fun of all.” She paused with finger on chin as though pondering another list, the one she could do. “Oh, and I can move the clouds around and make rain.” She peered at the clear blue sky. “Well, maybe not today. I’m still playing with that.”

Alyria’s heart quickened. With this kind of power at the fingertips of a five-year-old, they all walked a narrow path. But she knew the goodness in her daughter’s heart. She also knew the priests feared her and her power, giving Alyria rise to suspect their motives and intentions all these years.

But they always came with gifts of fine fabrics, shoes like the soft leather slippers Aija wore, and small bracelets and jewelry appropriate for a child. Aija loved her uncles, and they loved her.

I hope so, for if they play her foul ...

Thinking of the remaining birthday gift, Alyria brightened, knowing the joy it would bring. “Ready for one more surprise?” She ran to a bush and drew out a wrapped package.

“Another birthday present?” Aija jumped up and down, landing lightly on her dance trained legs. “What is it?”

This particular gift Alyria had allowed only because she knew her daughter’s powers and had faith she would come to no harm. “Something special from your uncles.” She handed the small object to her daughter.

Aija took it and sniffed. “Smells like dirt.” She gazed up with expectant eyes.

Alyria shrugged as if equally mystified.

The wrapping paper came off with a flurry of excitement, only to be followed by slumped shoulders. “A carrot? What do I want a carrot for?”

“That’s a good question. Let’s see if there’s an expert on carrots somewhere close.” She took her daughter’s hand and they walked the length of the green space to a cluster of trees. In the shade, a chestnut pony with a white mane and tail was tethered to a tree. “Here’s a likely expert. See if he wants the carrot.”

Aija’s eyes grew large and darkened with utter delight. “A pony? For me?”

She nodded. “From your uncles. You must thank them.”

The pony took the carrot while Aija nuzzled her forehead against the creature’s broad, flat cheek. An energy of joy, of light and of love radiated out from her in waves. The absolute force and sweetness of it brought tears to Alyria’s eyes.

They have certainly bought her love with this.

When the carrot disappeared, Aija untied the pony and hopped up on its back with grace and strength. Her face beamed with the happiness Alyria had imagined the night she was born and named.

Happiness, as decreed by the priests.

“May I go, Mama?”

Alyria held the rope. Her breath caught in her chest as she imagined her daughter slipping off and being trampled underfoot. But Aija wasn’t a normal child, and Alyria laughed at her silliness. “Can you mind link with him?”

Aija nodded. “His name is Pretty Boy. I love him, Mama.”

Alyria’s momentary fears evaporated. A child that could teleport, stop time, and mind link to ask a beast its name had nothing to fear. She released the rope. “Be sure and tell your uncles thank you.”

As Aija rode off, Alyria prayed the pony would be enough. Prayed the goodness in Aija’s heart would be enough. Prayed they’d never have to find out what all the girl could do.

* * *

AIJA’S TENTH BIRTHDAY

In the arena, Aija rode bareback on a black colt, it’s mane trailing well below its neck and its flowing tail reaching the ground. It pranced with high, perfect steps, seeming to teeter on just two feet at a time

Alyria admired the strength and grace of her daughter, now an accomplished master dancer and gymnastic horseback rider. She excelled with both keyed and string instruments making everyone refuse to compete with her. But her gracious and compassionate nature also made her classmates flock to her. The calm head and heart of a leader was maturing with shocking beauty every day.

Which always brought Alyria back to the night of Aija’s birth and the priest who’d crossed himself in the ancient gesture against evil. When she gazed at her daughter, the mystery of that moment always arose.

She’s no surprise to them. They knew she’d be this ...

Different. Beautiful. Powerful.

What else do they know?

The ecstatic joy on Aija’s face announced more than words ever could. She called out, “Zephyr. I’m going to name him Zephyr. Riding him is like riding the west wind. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

Her eyes glowed, her hair trailed behind her, much like Zephyr’s tail. She wore a sleeveless short shift, exposing her muscular limbs and graceful moves as she urged the colt into a soft gallop.

At a sound behind her, Alyria glanced over her shoulder; Carlyle stepped up beside her. She forced herself not to react and remembered how much the uncles had done for Aija. Their extravagant gifts like Zephyr had brought Aija joy and a quality of life fit for a princess. And as to be expected, such largesse induced a great deal of love for them. Alyria couldn’t help but wonder what they planned to do with all that love.

Knowing they couldn’t be trusted, she drew on her false smile of appreciation and exclaimed, “You’ve put her on top of the moon.” She grabbed his hand. “Thank you for this, Carlyle. Her joy is a beautiful thing to see, isn’t it?”

He gazed at Aija cavorting with her new horse, yet his eyes held a blankness, as if he viewed something entirely different. She twitched with revulsion and removed her hand from his, hoping to never know what they were up to.

Aija rode towards them and in a heart stopping move, she jumped from her horse, causing Alyria’s breath to hitch in her chest.

But her daughter landed perfectly.

She ran to Carlyle and wrapped her arms around him, face pressed into his robes. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, Uncle Carlyle. Zephyr is perfect.” She reached up on tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, stroking her head. Oddly, Alyria believed the priest held true affection for her daughter, but the gesture took her back to the night of Aija’s birth. She never forgot. And as Aija grew stronger and more powerful, a bad feeling developed, haunting Alyria.

Carlyle asked, “How are your lessons coming?”

Aija stepped off and held out her hand; a flame burst in her palm. “This one is fun,” she said with a giggle. “The flame tickles.”

“Good girl,” he exclaimed. “Always ahead of your classmates, I see.”

“I try, Uncle. I try,” Aija responded.

Aija’s face was as innocent as the sky, and Alyria mentally grinned at the subterfuge, knowing her daughter’s capabilities far exceeded not only her classmates, but the priests. And as far as she knew, they had no clue.

Or do they?

* * *

THAT SAME DAY, ORION’S Fifteenth Birthday

In darkness relieved by one candle, Orion sat at his father’s bedside. As Meta’s pained breaths labored into the night, Orion wished he could take his father’s suffering upon himself. But he was helpless to do anything; the night stretched before him, a death watch. Grief filled his heart and he prayed he would make it through the night, even though he knew his father wouldn’t.

Meta stirred and Orion helped him to sit and brought a cup of water to his parched lips. He greedily drank; when he finished, he motioned Orion to come closer.

“Forget what the shaman said,” Meta whispered. “Defy the curse. Defy the gods, if need be. You’re a good son.”

A flood of tears filled Orion’s eyes and Meta’s image blurred. His gruff, loving father had never once mentioned the words spoken on that night. Orion had heard the story from his mother, but Meta disowned the shaman’s curse.

“Take care of your mother,” his father added. Even as his voice grew softer, weaker, and the gasps for breath stretched farther apart, he peered at Orion until he answered.

Tears overflowed and freely ran down Orion’s face as he clutched his father’s hand. “I will. I promise.”

Hearing that, Meta took his final breath.

Orion remained holding his father’s hand until he heard a rush of movement behind him. Recognizing his mother’s step, he turned into her arms.

“I came as soon as I could,” she cried. She fell to her knees beside the bed and lay her head upon Meta’s still chest, sobbing. After a while, her tears slowed and she sat up, wiping her face.

Orion dipped the cloth in the bowl of water and dabbed at her swollen eyes. “It’s going to be all right, Mother. I’ll take care of you.” He’d never called her Mother before, only Mama, like a child. But he was the man now, and his mother’s care was his responsibility.

She wiped her nose. “Did he say anything?”

Forget what the shaman said. Defy the curse. Defy the gods, if need be. You’re a good son.

Following his father’s commands, he took the first step in defying the curse. “He said, ‘Take care of your mother and tell her how much I love her.’”

With this lie, he made it through the night and following days.

A flurry of activity kept Orion’s mind off his grief as they packed their belongings. He loaded the last cage of his raptors, a falcon, a hawk, an eagle, and an owl onto the wagon. “It’s only for a few days girls. And I promise unlimited hunting when we get to Atlantis.”

After draping the cages, he pulled on the falconer’s leather glove that covered his Orion mark. While he heeded his father’s words about the curse, he still held onto old ways. The leather glove provided convenient cover as a tool of his trade.

With all the straps and ties tightened and the harnesses and wheels checked, he and his mother climbed into the seat and set their sights on Atlantis. He glanced at her. Tears still streaked her cheeks, and he knew know hard this was for her. “I can get a job in the city’s hunting fields. The girls and I fly and hunt together, and with the mind link we’re the best predators around.”

She sniffed and smiled. He nudged her with his shoulder. “And you make the best bread of anyone, so maybe you can become a baker.”

A quick nod and she wiped her eyes. “We’ll be fine, won’t we?” she asked with a tentative smile.

He nodded, scraping up encouragement. For the first time in many days, he dared to believe her.

And I will make my own destiny.

CHAPTER THREE

Seven Years Later

Orion scanned the ground from high in the sky, hunting as a raven with his girls; he flew as a scout and gave them directions with the mind link. Game was plentiful and life was good, if a little solitary.

“Hawk, there’s a cluster of rabbits in the trees to your inside.”

With his keen eyesight, he saw in the distance as Hawk dove for the ground, assuring Orion that the rabbits would be added to their kill totals. Just as he bragged to those clients who wished to purchase his fresh meat, his girls were the best team in the field.

If only my clients knew why.

He kept his shifter status a secret, leveraging his ability to an advantage over the other hunters. Seeing the sun dipping toward the horizon, he called out, Time to come in. Meet you there.

They chose a new site to stash their kills each day as they ranged across the valley. By the time they returned to the city, they’d be first in line at the evening market.

He soared and banked, still eyeing the ground, and spotted a horse running across the distant grassy plain with a girl on its back. The horse went incredibly fast and seemed not to touch the ground while the girl rode effortlessly, flinging her arms into the air to ride without a handhold.

Never had he seen such grace and agility. It was as though she joined as one with the animal. He followed her and the racing horse as they turned toward the city. She disappeared into the stables behind the Temple of Life, and he lost sight of her.

He banked back to the meeting place where the girls were waiting and calling for him. I hear you. I’m on my way.

On the ground, he shifted and pulled on a shirt and leggings, then collected his hobbled horse. As he loaded their take for the day into the wagon, he appreciated the exceptionally heavy bags. The girls jumped into their cages, excited for their dinner.

Whatever doesn’t sell is yours. Just wait a little longer.

He turned the wagon toward the city, thinking about the girl on the horse.

* * *

THE UNCLES GATHERED each day on the top floor of their Temple of Light in the late afternoon because that was when Aija returned from her ride on Zephyr.

“She grows more exceptional with each passing year,” Protus said to Carlyle.

Menin shuffled his feet, his discomfort with the topic palpable. “We could have stopped this. One simple potion.” He waved his hand as though sweeping her life away. “But now. Now she’s a force to be reckoned with.” He glanced away, lips tight and chin raised in false bravado bordering on abject fear. “And the three of us aren’t enough.”

Carlyle snarled, weary of keeping these two on track, especially Menin. “Shut up, you fool. She’s the power we need to finish our plan—everything we’ve worked toward over the last ten years. We just have to coddle her along a little more. Once we fix the scales of Maat to our favor, we won’t need her anymore. We do this before her eighteenth birthday. Then we’ll have ultimate power.”

Protus asked, “What do you intend to do?”

“We keep her away from anything associated with the constellation Orion and continue to foster her love. Right now, Zephyr is the light of her life. We maintain her focus upon him, which keeps her attention off us; we continue building the spell to capture the scales and everything will work out as we’ve planned. As it is, all we have to do is maintain the status quo.”

“You two play with fire,” Menin complained.

Carlyle shot him a quelling glance. “You knew the karmic risks in stealing the scale of Maat when you signed up.”

Menin stared vacantly at the last place Aija was seen. “Karma isn’t the fire I speak of.”

Silence grew, rife with static and turbulent thoughts. Emotional energy ricocheted about, louder than words.

Carlyle pointed at Menin. “I can smell your anxiety. I suggest you work on a spell to tone down your fear.”

“She’s more powerful than all of us,” Menin spat vehemently in response. “If that doesn’t give you pause, you’re the fool. I’m sure she’s cloaking her powers. We have no idea what she can do.”

Protus snapped, his usual calm manner strained by Menin’s agitation. “You agree to dare a universal force like karma, yet you quake in the shadow of a young girl. Get a hold of yourself, Menin. We’re all in this together. Success will provide us material wealth, enormous power and eternal freedom from karma.” He delivered this with a meaningful glance. “And we’re all connected.”

“He’s right,” Carlyle added. “Our strength is measured by our weakest link, and right now that looks like you.”

“Perhaps it’s best if you go into isolation. Stay away from her,” Protus suggested.

Menin exhaled heavily. “Gladly. I’ll go into sequester, available only to you for the spell work.”

Waves of relief rolled off Menin as he stepped away to leave. When his footsteps echoed his retreat, Protus whispered, “Do you have her under control?”

“Control a child the legends have deemed a goddess?” The laughter of a maniac bubbled in Carlyle’s throat, but he swallowed the madness and rocked back on his heels. Needing to control his own trepidations, he repeated his words from the night of her birth. “I certainly hope so.”

* * *

ORION FLOATED IN THE high thermal currents above the valley beyond the usual fields they hunted in. Nasri had asked for pork, so they ranged farther away from the trees and into the tall grasses.

Tracking the animals in the high grass was ridiculously easy. With the girls handling the hunting, he turned toward the wagon to collect their kills. While he flew, his bird nature constantly scanned the ground near and far for items of interest.

On the edge of the trees bordering the fields, he saw a blur of movement. The girl and her horse sped as if the beast lifted from the ground.

He flew overhead, still high in the thermals and tracked her. Even from this distance, he detected the shine in her hair, the sparkle in her laughter, the muscled strength in her limbs.

She’s spectacular.

Wanting to see more, he came lower, skirting the trees as she drew the horse to the edge of the shade. He landed in a treetop nearby and watched as she unpacked her bags.

First came a blanket she placed beneath a tree. Next, she brought out cheese and bread and meat, along with a skin of drink. And lastly, an apple from the bottom of the bag for the horse, who eagerly took it from her hand. “Zephyr, you’re the love of my life, did you know that?” She scrubbed the long black forelock that fell into his eyes. Laughter rose, a pure sound so magical, Orion wondered if she was real.

He stayed with her as she hummed and prepared her feast. When she spoke to the horse, her voice mesmerized him, as did the color of her hair and her lean, muscular legs. ‘You’re beautiful!’he squawked.

She glanced up, showing him her ice blue eyes and the beauty of her face, the line of her jaw, her high cheekbones and full questioning lips. He shrank against the tree, hiding in the shadows, yet he felt like she looked straight at him with curiosity. A moment later, she returned to her meal.

Soon the girls began calling him, and he lifted out of the tree, circling south, thinking about the girl with the beautiful eyes.

By the time he reached the wagon, his birds waited for him impatiently. Sorry, but I found something. He hastily collected the piglets, loaded the wagon and headed home, all the while with one image in his mind ... the girl on the horse.

He forced his thoughts into routine, and settled business at the market and fed the girls. As they tore into their meal, the girl on the horse rose in his thoughts again. “Wealthy by her appearance; who is she?” he mused. Her manners and grace indicated wealth as much as her attire and horse. But she was beyond wealthy. She was simply—

The most exquisite creature I’ve ever see.

His chin sagged open as he recalled the arch of her eyebrows, the clarity in her eye, the silken fall of her hair. His heart pounded and his mouth went dry, wanting to know more about her. “Stop,” he commanded. “She’s obviously beyond your reach, so let her go.”

But the command was difficult to obey.

He refused to think about her all the way home. Once settled in his small hut beyond the city animal grounds, he prepared a simple dinner of flatbread and roast quail with greens and radishes. For all his earlier hyped-up state of mind, he munched quietly, gazing into the fire while his mind processed his day’s emotions.

I’ve never seen anyone with so much elegance and beauty. What else? It’s like she saw me—no, saw into me and touched me.

“Mother, I wish you were here,” he said softly, missing her deeply since she passed last winter from a sickness. “Is this girl my destiny? She’s certainly turned my life upside down.” Just the thought of her set his heart racing with desire to be close to her, to hear her voice again and touch her, to know all about her.

He rubbed his left thumb over his right palm as though he could remove the mark and the stain on his life placed by the shaman’s decree.

“What does a delirious, babbling old man know?” he protested, wishing he could throw off the weight of his curse, whatever it might or might not be. By virtue of its presence, it burdened him. Wondering how different his life might have been, he said, “Too bad the shaman didn’t choke on his words.”

In spite of his command to let her go, the girl became his obsession. Every day while his birds hunted, he wandered farther afield in search of the girl and her horse, sometimes going out of eyesight by miles until he spotted her. When he found her, he hid nearby and gazed at her with bird eyes and a human brain. At times, he wondered if she came to these remote places to be alone.

One day she sang a soft song, lulling him with her voice and the unmitigated joy of being near her, when a shriek of pain and fear erupted in his mind. Recognizing one of his girls, he cried out, Falcon!

When the bird gave no return answer, terror struck his heart, for he knew she was dead. Her mind link had gone empty. Falcon! he cried again and lifted off, racing for his lost girl, knowing her death was his fault.

He reached the wagon. Her carcass lay on the ground. In his absence, she’d returned to the wagon with her prey, only to be struck down by a larger predator. Her kill was gone and she was torn to shreds, likely as she tried to fight off the thief.

Dropping to his knees, he wept. “Falcon, I’m so sorry. I should have been there, should have protected you.” He stroked the sleek feathers on the top of her head, releasing tears heavy with guilt.

Knowing the bird’s death was all his responsibility, he never wanted to see the girl on the black horse again.

* * *

AIJA RODE TO HER FAVORITE picnic spot and spread her blanket on the ground. Unpacking, she glanced about, searching for the raven with not only her eyes but her mind. “I know you’re out there. Come on in. Don't be afraid,” she muttered under her breath. She passed the time talking with Zephyr, her greatest confidant. “Z, where’d our friend go?”

Do you smell or hear him?

The stallion snorted and flicked his ears, but shook his head.

Yeah, that’s what I thought. He’s gone.

She returned from her afternoon ride. Zephyr received his ration of grain and she settled him into his paddock for the night. After the evening meal, she sat before her mirror, brushing her hair, thinking about the missing presence.

“He comes every day for weeks, then just disappears. I wonder who he is?” She’d first detected him the day he squawked. She hadn’t seen him, but her mind found his, guarded and protected even though he hid deep in the shadows. Every day after, she attempted to breach his mind, but he was locked up. “Probably never linked with another human,” she mused. “He just doesn’t know how.”

She settled in her bed and allowed her mind to relax even though curiosity lingered at the edge of unconsciousness. Eventually, she drifted to the dream state, below theta and delta, the state where all the Universe was within reach.

Who is he? Where do I find him?

The dream state shifted and she was flying, not on Z’s back or on the west wind, but on the wings of an emotion she’d never experienced. A warm giddy sensation collected in her core and flowed out through her limbs. She writhed with an unanswered need for something she couldn’t identify, something she’d never experienced.

Heat coursed through her body like molten desire—for what she couldn’t say. All she knew was she needed this consummation, needed this joining, needed this unknown element as though her life depended on it.

Still she sped through the clouds, the ground a dizzying distance below, until she noticed the others who flew with her. A hawk, an owl, and a raven. They moved over in flight, allowing her to take the empty space in their formation.

The raven. It’s you!

But he ignored her until he suddenly looked at her with human eyes. Amber colored human eyes filled with anger. The air swirled around her, mixed with her thoughts, and replaced her curiosity with discovery.

Now I know what you look like.

* * *

AIJA TOOK TO THE STREETS in search of amber eyes. She set her internal awareness to anger, searching for not just the eyes, but the energy signature of that emotion.

Why is he angry? Did he lose someone? Perhaps the missing member in the flying formation?

Her fascination with this raven shifter amused and surprised her. For all she knew he was an ancient shaman who liked to play games.

No. These eyes were young and hot, untouched by the chill of a long life.

Her mission to find him began in the market place. She moved on to the stables, the classrooms, and the craft associations searching the faces of blacksmiths, potters, spinners, embroiders, clothiers, bakers, candy and candlestick makers. Finally, she made it to the butchery in the late afternoon.

After searching one end of Atlantis to the other, she had nothing. With hands on hips, she scanned the dispersing crowd that scurried about completing late day business. Purveyor stalls were shutting down and small game hunters were leaving after having unloaded the proceeds from their day’s hunt.

She huffed with impatience. Then the crowd parted, leaving her with the rear end view of a wagon pulling away. In the back, an owl and a hawk sat in cages side by side.

An owl and a hawk from my dream.

Pointing to the retreating wagon, she asked a passing merchant, “Do you know him?”

The man craned his neck to see. “Oh, that’s Orion. He’s a hunter with three rather fine birds, or at least he had three birds. He’s the best hunter in the fields.”

The wagon got smaller and smaller as it pulled away. “Does he have amber eyes?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he does. Very striking and intense—like he is. Have you met him?”

“Briefly,” she answered. “He was angry. Do you know why?”

“He recently lost one of his birds to a predator. Maybe that’s why?”

The merchant turned away, leaving her with her thoughts.Having heard all she needed, she cloaked herself with a flick of her fingers and ran after the wagon.

CHAPTER FOUR

Aija slipped off the back of the wagon, silent and cloaked, undetectable except for her breath and her tracks. She kept to the short grass so her footsteps wouldn’t show and her breathing couldn’t be heard. From the outside corner of his abode, she watched as he set the fire, pulled a plucked bird from his ruck sack and staked it over the fire. She watched close, impatient for a good view of him as he set about doing his chores.

Come on, let me see you.

From her stationary position, the opportunity finally came.She got a full-on view of his face when he froze and whipped around, staring her way at one point. She held her breath, fearing he could somehow detect her, but he turned back to preparing his meal.

It was a good thing she held her breath, for she’d have gasped otherwise. Shoulder length raven black hair tied back from his face highlighted his sculpted cheek bones, strong nose, and full lips over a cleft chin. In the center of all this male beauty, his amber eyes simmered.

What drives you my beauty?

After his meal, he moved inside and brought his birds in. She watched through the open window as he lit a solitary candle. He settled the birds, saying goodnight with sorrow lacing his voice. “I’m sorry we lost her, girls. It was my fault.”

The eagle nipped at his fingers and he stroked its head. The owl fluttered its wings, drawing his attention; he smoothed her ruff back down. The bird trilled and moved closer for his touch.

“We’ll find another falcon. And I promise not to wander off like that again.”

Aija drew back, understanding.

The falcon was lost because he followed and watched me.

Death was a part of life. But she didn’t like death to come because of her. With him being one bird down that meant his ability to hunt had been impacted.

In a sense, my fault.

Having covered the bird cages, he poured water in a bowl and removed his leggings and shirt. When he reached for the soap, the candlelight shone across his right hand, dark and stained from handling the birds.

No, the glove should have left his hand less exposed and pale.

He took the soap and cloth and lathered his face, torso and arms before rinsing the cloth and wiping away the suds.

Her breath caught in her chest and she forced herself not to gasp again as the soapy cloth slid over bulging arms and firm chest muscles. A sudden firing of energy in her core registered her appreciation of his form. Her nipples tensed and her knees sagged as her legs yearned to open for this incredible man so he could lay claim to her.

He dropped his short pants and soaped the cloth again. As her mouth went dry with longing, he lathered each leg then drew the cloth over his considerable manhood, cupping his sack.

She wanted to cry out, to see him up close, wanted to touch his exquisite body. But she was held captive in a silent and invisible cloak. She allowed him to rinse before she snapped her fingers to stop time. She darted in beside him, but held her palms back as they screamed to caress him. His male flesh attracted her eye. His muscular legs begged for her to climb on for a ride, and his solid buttocks left her empty hands aching. As she circled around him, she got another view of his hand.

Peering up close, she struggled to accept what her eyes told her. She took a step back.

Not possible! He bears the same mark as I.

After scurrying out the door, she snapped her fingers. Time flowed again. Orion shivered and looked about before grabbing a towel.

She had seen enough. Perhaps too much. She backed into the dark of night, leaving behind the beautiful body, the molten eyes, and the mark of Orion.

The next morning, she cloaked herself and waited for him next to the wagon. She stayed out of his way as he loaded the bird cages and started out. When the wagon rolled over a pot hole, she eased onto the back gate.

He was a quiet man. She wondered what he thought about in the long stretch of silence as the wagon left the city behind. She could try to mind tap him, but as closed as his raven mind was, she doubted she could reach his human mind without causing a stir.

The wagon edged into the trees and he unharnessed and hobbled the horse, then freed and launched the birds into the air. Aija tip-toed closer, knowing he was about to disrobe. He dropped his shirt and leggings, leaving his short pants on top of the stack, revealing his incredibly beautiful human form for bare seconds. With a sound like the wing of a passing bird, he became a raven and lifted into the air.

I know what you look like, where you work, and where you live. But who are you, Orion?

Knowing he would be gone for the day, she returned to the city. She went to the stables and took Zephyr to the grove of trees for a brushing; she had much to tell him.

She stroked the brush down his back and across his flanks, reminded of the fine form on Orion. She’d never met a man she wanted ... until now. Until now, she thought she’d end up a high priestess. Until now, that made her happy.

“He’s spectacular, like you Z. Muscles in all the right places. And he’s good to his animals—that says a lot about a person.”

A smile teased her lips into a grin. “And he has a nice ... you know. Down there.” She flicked her eyebrows with knowing as she gazed at the ground. Thoughts about a man’s private parts had never entered her mind. All her life there had been lessons and classes and new things to learn, keeping her too busy to think about ... the passionate side of life. This new line of thought rushed into her mind, exposing a question.

What are you going to do about it?

As with all initiates, her virgin shield had been ruptured when she started her menses, leaving her free to do as she wished until she took her last rites. Until yesterday, sex hadn’t entered her mind. But now that she’d seen him, she couldn’t forget his image. Now that she acknowledged she wanted him, he wouldn’t leave her thoughts. A hot spot had taken residence in her core, growing inside with wanting to touch him, to feel him touching her, to feel his—

“There you are,” Alyria said.

Her mother’s soft step and voice threw sudden ice on Aija’s erotic thoughts, leaving her to flinch. If that weren’t enough, her face burned.

“Where have you been today? I believe Zephyr enjoyed a lazy day off from your usual afternoon ride.” She glanced at Aija’s face and pulled back with alarm before putting her hand to Aija’s forehead. “Look how flushed you are. Are you running a fever?”

Aija shrugged. “Mother, I’m fine, just had a little sun today.” She continued brushing Zephyr as her mother gave her a close scrutiny.

Too close.

“What’s his name?”

Aija pulled back, frowning. “The horse, Mother? Have you had a stroke?”

“I see,” Alyria said. She rocked back on her heels and nodded as though she’d just received an epiphany. “What I meant was, what’s the boy’s name that put such a hot blush on your cheeks?”

“What makes you think there’s a boy involved?”

“Because only a broken bone would keep you off Zephyr’s back.” She inspected Aija up and down. “And I don’t see anything broken.” She peered close to pry out answers.

Aija couldn’t hold it back any longer; she hadn’t felt like this since she received Zephyr. “The boy’s name is Orion, and I think I’m in love.”

Her mother went deathly still. Aija sensed her mother’s thoughts drifting to another time and place. Her vacant eyes sent a chill down Aija’s back. “What is it, Mother?”

Alyria snapped from her trance and exclaimed, “I’m so happy for you. Tell me all about him. Where did you meet?”

Suddenly feeling silly in the face of these questions, Aija glanced away. “We really haven’t met yet.”

“Love from afar?”

“Maybe,” Aija said wistfully. “He definitely makes me feel something.” Her words trailed off, leaving a void filled with another question, one she’d not yet dared to voice.

With her usual intuitive insight, her mother said, “You were meant for power, Aija, but you were named for happiness.”

“Is there room for both in my life?”

“The power, you can’t deny or refuse. As for love, you have to decide if it’s worth the cost.”

Questioning the outcome of her actions, an unknown option in her young life, caused Aija to pause in mid-breath.

“Look, we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Alyria rushed to say. “Maybe he has a shriveled thing down below and—”

Aija glanced down. “Uh, actually, I’ve seen his thing and there’s nothing shriveled about it.”

Alyria pulled back, but then burst in laughter. “Ha! Daughter, you surprise me three times today!”

They chuckled heartily and made faces, expanding their laughter. “The state of his thing aside, go spend time with him, Aija. What you need to do right away is kiss him. Yes. That’s right. Do that and I promise the effects of that one action will tell you everything you need to know going forward. Once you’ve kissed, your heart will have all the answers to all the questions.”

That night as she lay in bed, Aija pondered the ways of a topic she knew nothing about. Her declaration of love today was heartfelt and inspired by desire. But what did she know?

Love.

Her uncles were the only men in her life on a daily basis, so when she thought of men, she pictured their paunches and skinny legs. Her mind hesitantly conjured possible images of their man flesh, then recoiled with a shiver.

She rolled over and hugged her pillow. She wondered what Orion’s hard flesh felt like skin-to-skin, heat on heat, straining for—

Suddenly her erotic fog cleared. She knew what to get him.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, SHE dressed and headed out the door at the crack of dawn. The father of her classmate, Jenna, bred and raised hunting birds. “He’s sure to have a falcon.” She saddled Zephyr and rode into the northern outskirts of Atlantis, arriving at a gate announcing Falconry Farms.

“Aija,” Jenna called.

Aija stopped and slid from Zephyr. “Look how tall you’ve gotten since last we met,” she exclaimed. The young girl had blossomed from a gangly child into a lovely young woman. “And I see you’re quite pleased about something, Jenna. What has you so delighted?” She looped arms with her friend, and they climbed up the veranda steps.

“Don't tell Papa, but I’ve attracted the attentions of a young man.” She squealed softly. “He is so handsome and proper.”

Aija smiled, even though what she had in mind with Orion was anything but proper. She squeezed Jenna’s shoulder. “It shall be our secret.”

They rounded the corner to find Jenna’s father setting up three cages, each with a bird of prey. “Mr. Ransom, thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

“A pleasure to accommodate the next High Priestess. Please, tell me what you think of these.”

A hawk, a peregrine, and a falcon. “May I see the falcon?”

He handed her a glove and she slipped it on while he drew out the bird and removed her hood. Aija cooed and reached for the bird—she came readily, hopping onto her hand.

“She’s a seasoned hunter and a good girl, comes home when she’s supposed to.”

Aija made kisses, drawing the bird’s eye. “Are you a good girl?” She probed the bird’s mind and found her receptive. She slipped in, bringing love and safety.

Would you like a new home with an owl, a hawk, and a raven?

The falcon chirped and rolled her head. Being open to the mind link made her perfect. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said.

Mr. Ransom provided a small cage for Aija to transport the bird home. She perched in Aija’s lap, silent the long ride back, but verbally grateful when the horse stopped moving and she was unloaded. Aija rubbed her hands together.

Now all I have to do is drop her off before dawn.

Long after the moon set, Aija rose and dressed. She selected an easy-going mare from the stables for the ride out to Orion’s. Once they were on the way, they made good time in the still of night.

When she arrived, remaining out of earshot, she tied the mare to a branch and unloaded the small cage. The falcon murmured softly, her head covered. “Sshhhsh,” Aija responded. She crept up on tip toes and set the basket down by the door.

Slowly stepping backwards, she turned and walked straight into Orion’s arms.

CHAPTER FIVE

Sequestered in the top level of the Tower of Light, Carlyle studied a screen displaying complex mathematical equations extrapolated from charts on time and space. Across the bottom of the screen were more equations based on various points in time. It had taken him ten years to produce these equations, and soon the moment would arrive when everything would come into place.

Stealing the scale of Maat required split second action with absolute precise timing. Such precision narrowed his margin for error. In order to be this precise, he needed tremendous power, power over time and space.

Aija’s power.

Frustration rumbled from his chest.

All this preparation dependent upon a young girl’s whim.

He had no doubt she’d mastered time, along with other powers and kept them secret. She often came to talk as if he were really her uncle, always filled with dreams of what she’d like to do and talk of her horse. She was still the loving child.

Perhaps her power came with a level of caution.

Protus entered and joined him at the screen. “How close are we?”

“Days,” he answered. “I have last minute adjustments to make. Have you and Menin collected all the ingredients for the spell?”

“We have one more interdimensional ingredient that’s taking time to retrieve. The dimensional travel is exhausting for Menin. He’s resting.” He glanced at the calendar. “We’re cutting it a little close, don't you think? Her birthday is almost upon us.”

“Time may be fluid, but our schedule for this isn’t. Precise timing is everything, and this is the only option we have to work with.”

Protus gazed out at the horizon where the ocean glittered in the distance. “Do you think she’ll do it?”

With his arms crossed, Carlyle rocked back on his heels. The answer to that question had been the only unknown quantity in his great plan. She was her own person, of that he was sure, leading him to one place. “I doubt it.”

“Can we coerce her in any way?”

This question had run through his mind endlessly. Always he came up with the same answer. “I doubt that, too. But we’re too committed to this path to change now. There’s no turning back.”

* * *

AT ORION’S ABODE, AIJA went rigid in his embrace. His muscular arms wrapped around her, holding but not hurting her. Since being in his arms was exactly what she’d dreamed about, she dropped her cloaking spell.

“You?” he blurted. “What are you doing here?”

His hold loosened, but he didn’t lower his arms. Silence pressed heavily as she held her answer. His smell filled her nose, and her legs threatened to buckle, making her uncertain how to proceed. She licked her lips. “I brought you a bird.”

“I see that. Why?”

When he glanced at the bird cage, his bare neck was just inches from her lips. She wanted to lick his flesh and taste his skin. His gaze returned with his simmering amber eyes. She cocked her head, wondering ...

So much heat, so much anger. What moves you, Orion?

Heeding her mother’s words, she eased her hands up behind his head. She locked eyes with him, whispering, “Sssshh,” and drew him in for a kiss. His eyes tracked hers in the slow descent to her lips, going from confusion to surprise to acquiescence; both of them paused at the last instant before deciding to continue.

The initial contact brought a moan from deep in her chest. As the erotic sound escaped, their bodies shifted slightly, hers coming into his, his wrapping around hers. His arms tightened, drawing her closer than close, giving her heat, giving her joy, giving her the need for more.

A rush of desire-driven chemicals swirled through her body. Her breasts tingled, her core opened, and her belly tightened with anticipation. Her lips parted, and her legs longed to do the same. In that moment of quiet before the storm, he came after her tongue with his and she gladly opened for him. His hand rose to cup her jaw, holding her for his invasion.

Her mind reeled with the need for his rigid manhood to pierce her deeply, bringing her the ecstasy of love. She broke the kiss, gazing into his eyes, searching for resistance. Seeing none, she dragged him indoors. He pulled the blanket off his narrow bed and arranged it on the floor over a pile of straw.

By the time he turned around, she had dropped her tunic and short pants. Her heart pounded in her ears and her head swam with a heady rush of desire and longing and need for fulfillment. She pulled his tunic over his head ... and gazed at his rigid manhood, waiting and ready to satisfy her urgent desires.

Pulsing need and crying ache held no room for foreplay. She grabbed his erection and rose on her tiptoes to place him between her legs. He hoisted one of her hips with a hand and reached with his other to guide himself inside her.

She cried as his heat touched first her lips, then delved into her core, and finally her soul. Tears came to her eyes even as she began moving against him, needing this first completion quickly. She wanted to take him deep until he cried out in pleasure.

The dance began, groaning and entering, moaning and sliding out. She bit his neck, he squeezed her buttocks. Back and forth, they moved a little faster. She lifted to take more of him as their flesh joined with single minded intent.

The beginning of her orgasm flickered deep, then caught fire. She grunted and took him faster. He held onto her buttocks, holding her as he slammed rapid-fire into her. The erotic ecstasy blazed and took over her body, leaving her rigid against him as he growled and buried his flesh all the way in. With a gasp, she sagged and he scooped her up and brought her to the blanket.

He lay her down gently, then straddled her abdomen, a knee at each side of her body, his genitals resting on her belly. The posture was a curious mix of intimidation and surrender. He bent down, his lips grazing her cheek, and asked, “Who are you?”

She snaked her ankle around his and flipped them over. Positions reversed, she rested her bare bottom on his stomach. “I’m Aija. Who are you?”

Returning the move, he flipped them over. “I’m Orion. Why are you here?”

She tossed him up and over to land on top again, not that he was resisting. “I’m here because I wanted to give you the falcon. I heard you lost one.” She hesitated then rushed to add, “I know you’re the raven. I know you watched me, until...” She sank down, placing her breasts on his chest and whispered, “What just happened with us, Orion?”

He didn’t toss her over, but rolled so they lay face to face. “I’ve wanted you since the day I first saw you.”

She clasped his hand. “And I you.” She showed him her Orion birthmark. “Do you know what this means?”

His eyes bugged and he clenched his lips tight. She kissed his knuckles. “I have the mark, too. Tell me.”

“When I was born, a shaman said I was cursed by the mark of Orion, that the comet would return to destroy Orion and sink Atlantis into the sea. He told my mother to hide me, to hide my mark.”

“I’ve never heard of this,” she said.

“He was a daft old man,” he complained.

Ah, she thought, understanding now the source of his anger. “You don't believe him, do you?” She threaded her fingers with his, bringing their mutual birthmarks together. “No one can call our destiny. We make our own. When were you born?”

“On the summer solstice in the year the raven comet flew east to west. I’m twenty-two.”

“And I was born the same day five years later. We share our birthday. I wonder why Orion connects us.”

Their lips met, bringing a song to her heart and body. Never had she thought it possible to feel this much joy. After nearly eighteen years, she’d found the true happiness she was named after. “Our birthday is two days from now. Promise to spend the day with me.”

In return, his lips teased, plundered and caressed hers. “I promise, the day is yours.”

Their foreheads rested together, mind to mind. “What’s happening to us, Orion?”

“I don't know. I think I fell in love when I watched you from the trees. I’d never seen anyone so beautiful.”

Tears suddenly filled her eyes. “The ancients speak of fated love, two souls destined to come together. Perhaps that is the meaning of our birthmark.”

“Who are you? Are you a princess?”

Some people feared initiates and their power; she wondered how much to tell him. “I live in the Temple of Life, I’m an initiate to the calling.”

A troubled look crossed his face. “I thought initiates lived a life of chastity, sequestered in the Temple.”

“They do once they pass final rites. I haven’t made that commitment yet. I’m still free to decide my future.” Silence settled on her shoulders, for she had never considered not taking her final rites.

“You won’t tell anyone about my mark, will you?” he asked. “It’s my secret.”

She drew him in for a kiss by cupping his jaw, as he did earlier with her. “Your secret is mine.”

When their lips touched, he whispered, “When will I see you again?”

The answer sang through her soul. “Every day of your life.”

* * *

IN THE HOURS LONG AFTER the moon set, Aija returned to her quarters and crawled in bed. She stroked her thighs, now sore from being spread; her buttocks tender from being held; her breasts alive with wanting it all over again.

If I have a fated love, why wasn’t I told?

“That would have been in my birth chart.”

And their matching Orion birthmarks. What does that mean?

Her curiosity had been lit. Knowing nothing would stand in her way of finding answers, she rolled over and sank into her covers, her mind filled with questions about Orion.

* * *

ORION PUT THE BLANKET back on his narrow bed and crawled in. He thought he must be in a dream but for the tender bite marks on his neck. Never did he consider he’d be so lucky as to have her in his life for a day, much less every day.

Fated love? Is that my destiny?

He was beginning to think differently about his birthmark, drawing away from the shaman’s words, having hope there might be another destiny for him. Life was proving to be so much more than what the shaman said.

You should have choked and kept your mouth shut, old man.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY AIJA FOUND her mother in the solar, tending her flower garden. Lotus blossoms floated on a small pond, with lilies and orchids blooming with vigor until their scent saturated the air.

“Mother,” she called.

Alyria turned at her voice and eyed her up and down as she approached. “Daughter, may I guess you have had your kiss?”

Aija went into her mother’s arms for a hug. “Yes, a kiss and a bit more.” She took her mother’s arm and drew her deeper into the garden, where the singing birds flitted about and peppered the air with their calls, assuring no listening ears. She asked, “I want to know, do I have a fated love?”

When Alyria would have stopped to pull back in question, Aija kept pulling her along. “Mother, he has the exact same birthmark and we are born on the same day, five years apart.”

“And?”

“And he makes my soul sing with rapture. How can that not be fated love? Was there any mention of this the night I was born? It should have been in my chart.”

Alyria recalled the gestures against evil, the frightened glances, the hesitation. Apparently, much had been kept secret by the uncles. “The only mention by Carlyle was there were auspicious signs, and they wished to see you cared for.”

In the heart of the garden, Aija stopped. “What else?”

“I know they fear you. Feared you from birth.”

“Why would they fear me? They’re my family. I’d never hurt them. I can’t imagine a reason to do so.” At a complete loss, she lifted her shoulders. “I don't understand.”

“You need information. Carlyle keeps several record keeper crystals in his quarters.”

Aija nodded, acknowledging the unspoken instructions that went with that tidbit.

Don't get caught.

She remembered when she would cloak herself as a child and wander around behind them. She knew exactly where Carlyle stashed his record keeper crystals.

Considering when to sneak in, she mentioned, “I notice they spend a lot of time in the Tower of Light. Do you know what they’re doing?”

Alyria shivered. “I don't want to know what they do. I’m just grateful whatever they’re up to, they don't have your power.”

* * *

THAT EVENING, AFTER prayers when most Atlanteans were settling in for the night, Aija cloaked herself and waited by Carlyle’s quarters for him to leave, determined to get information. Protus arrived and the two left immediately, heading for the Tower of Light. They scurried off, their heads together, whispering. She watched them leave with a sudden bad feeling in her stomach ... one she’d never had.

Carrying a heavy heart and an anxious stomach, she entered Carlyle’s quarters and went straight for his keeper chest. Inside there were dozens of crystals.

Which one?

Desperate, she scooped up a handful and bowed her head over them. Reveal yourself to me. Not sure what to expect, she took her mind into theta level and waited.

Information rushed at her in a collage of blurred images, too fast to discern. She clutched the crystals, going rigid as each one dumped their library into her mind. Tears began rolling down her cheeks, why she couldn’t say, for the information came all in a tumble. After the crystals had shared their data, she returned them to the chest.

Careful to go silently, she slipped out, needing Orion.

CHAPTER SIX

By the time Aija arrived at Orion’s, she stumbled both physically and emotionally, her mind a maelstrom.

What do I do?

Unable to process everything, she called from his doorway. “Orion. Orion, I need you.”

He came quickly, took her in his arms, and led her to the bed. He lit a candle. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

There was too much in her head and her heart to know what to say. She needed time to process and assimilate the vast load of information. Her eyes crinkled with dismay and heartbreak. Never had she thought such betrayal possible.

And I haven’t worked though all of it yet; where does it end; where does it go?

She couldn’t breathe. The weight of her heart pressed deep into her lungs. “Kiss me,” she demanded.

He enveloped her in his arms. “Shhsh. Everything will be all right. We’ll find a way, and we’ll do it together.”

Tears started to pour, hot and burning, scorching the back of her nose. Never had she cried like this. She sobbed, a foreign sound to her ears, and shivered.

“Come on, I’ve got you,” he whispered. He stroked her hair and coaxed her chin to lift, making her open her eyes. “What can I do to make you feel better?” He quickly rubbed her arms, stirring circulation and bringing warmth. “Can I kiss you?” He pushed the hair from her wet eyes and touched his lips to her forehead, lingering, breathing gently on her face.

She sniffed, her tears slowing, and mumbled. “Yes.”

He pulled the hair from her shoulder and placed a kiss there. His warm breath tickled her neck and she let her head drop back, allowing him access to her throat. He quickly peppered her jaw with little kisses, whispering, “See how beautiful you are.”

Chill bumps of desire danced along her nerves. She tugged off her tunic and removed her short pants while he peeled out of his leggings. He knelt on the bed, his manhood seeking her heat.

She straddled him and hooked her ankles at his back. His scent and the feel of his chest and leg muscles against her flesh made her wet. She rose up and placed him at her opening. With a sharp inhalation, she slid all the way down his shaft.

He held her tight while she rocked back and forth. His fingers dug into her buttocks while she bit his shoulder. She moaned, sliding hotly into him. Her breasts rubbed his chest and chill bumps flashed across her thighs with anticipation.

Faster he pumped and her orgasm flickered. She responded in kind and brought the tempo up to ride him hard. As their bellies clashed, she clenched her core muscles and triggered her orgasm. Erotic fire spiraled out through her body as he buried his face in her neck, finding completion with a deep thrust.

She collapsed and he lay her on the bed, rooting in beside her, face to face on the narrow cot. She drifted in the drowsy place after sex, pliant in his arms, his legs laced through hers, his arms around her shoulders.

He placed himself between her and the world.

Breath deepened as her mind and body relaxed and sought the shelter of oblivion. Chemicals and hormones and peptides activated by this relaxed state coursed through her body. The lower levels of her mind opened to the great consciousness, seeking answers and relief of her burden.

What do I do?

Comprehension of the depth of her uncles’ betrayal happened in a snap of fingers, as if part of her knew all along they were capable of such.

They were right to fear me.

Sinking deeper into the dream, her mind shuddered, recalling the image of the raven comet exploding in Orion’s belt. Her line of vision shifted in the dream and she rose above the continent of Atlantis. Far below, her homeland broke up and drifted apart until all sank from view.

Sensing she played a part in this catastrophe, she cried. But more visions rose out of the chaos of information she absorbed from the crystals. The hunter in the constellation Orion aimed his bow at the great cosmic wheel of karma as it tilted off track and wobbled. He fired even as his belt exploded, but his arrow pierced the cosmic wheel and held it solid.

She moaned in agony.

Too much, too much.

A soft touch smoothed her brow and strong arms held her close. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. Knowing she was safe, she slipped into oblivion.

* * *

AIJA’S NOSE TWITCHED at the smell of roasting meat. A sizzle and subsequent hiss sounded like corn batter hitting a hot stone, teasing her into consciousness. Her mouth watered and she gave up resisting, coming awake. She stretched and rolled over, opening her eyes to Orion’s deep amber gaze.

“Is the princess ready to rise?”

She giggled, noting how blessed her life had become overnight. Never in all her pampered days had she felt truly pampered ... until now. “I smell salted pork and fresh corn cakes.” She shivered with delight, for never had she desired an extravagant banquet as much as she did this simple meal. And this man. “I love you,” she whispered in a soft rush.

His eyes glistened, and he growled, grabbing her hands. His voice came out with heat. “I love you, too.”

A flood of tears welled in her eyes. “I’ve never been in love before.” She shrugged one shoulder with a mix of confusion and delight. Giddy butterflies danced in her stomach, and this constant ache for him never left her core. “I ... I don’t know what it means, or how to act. I feel like I’m levitating on sheer joy.” In the chaotic rush of emotions, she shifted from tears to bubbling laughter. “I love you. I want to shout it to the world.”

Tears matching hers ran down his face. “I thought a curse ruled my life, that I’d never be with someone like you, someone so beautiful, so incredible. I’ve hidden all my life. I don't want to hide anymore.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss. At first her lips lingered softly, barely touching, coaxing, until a consuming wave of desire overtook her. Love became need and turned into desperation for more.

Another wash of tears watered her eyes. She wanted to stay and be with him all day, to never lose sight of him, to have him always within her reach.

But I have to go.

She broke the kiss and placed her forehead to his. “I have to take care of some family business, but I’ll be back tonight.”

“First,” he declared, “you’ll eat breakfast.” He pulled her from the bed and handed over her clothes. “Dress or we’ll end up with stale corn cakes.”

He winked, the gesture softening the serious lines of his face. She slipped on the tunic and her short pants and followed him out to the fire. He filled two plates with pork and corn cakes still sizzling from the heated stones. They sat, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, thigh to thigh, and heart to heart.

Aija licked her fingers and laughed at his silly faces, kissing his bare shoulder between bites. Apparently, she mused, the rules for her being dressed didn't apply to him. She didn’t mind. His strong muscular shoulders and arms were a pleasant distraction.

Afterward, he passed her a cloth to wipe her hands and mouth. A quiet settled around them. She had so much to say and knew not where to start. She drew a deep breath, but he held up his hand to stop her.

“I have to take my girls hunting.” He grabbed her hands and kissed her fingers. “I don't know what you went through last night, but I know it was big, and I think you have questions that need answers. Come back tonight. We’ll eat and talk. Tomorrow’s our birthday and I want to make love to you all night and day. Deal?”

Hot tears of relief rushed free. She grabbed him in a hug, her eyes squeezed tight. “I’d love that.” She kissed him, lingering over his salty lips, severely tempted to drag him back to bed. But he was right, she had questions that needed answers ... and she intended to get them.

I have business to tend to.

All the way home, her mind churned with what she’d learned from the crystals. Events she couldn’t and wouldn’t have ever imagined were happening right under her nose. She went straight to her mother, catching her out on the green space. “Mother, we have to talk.”

Alyria frowned. “Daughter, have you been crying? What’s happened, lost your boyfriend already?” she chided lightly.

“Mother, this is serious.”

“What could be so serious to make you cry? You never cry.”

“I’ve never had a reason to cry ... until now.” She leaned in to whisper in her mother’s ear. “I saw Carlyle’s crystals. My uncles have done unimaginable spells and are working on something ... abominable. I’ve got to stop them.”

Alyria drew her into a hug, placing her lips at Aija’s ears. “Are you sure about this?”

“They’re going to steal the scale of Maat through time and rig it so karma never attaches to them again.”

“Can they do that?”

“Not without me and my power.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Make them stop. Make them reverse what they’re doing.” She pulled back to look her mother in the eye, adding softly, “And I’m not going to take my next level rites. I have a fated love, and I chose to live my life with him, forsaking my power.”

She glanced side to side. “They plotted to turn my fated love into a star-crossed love. Now I know why they feared me. But I won’t play their game. I’m going to see Carlyle and lay down the law.”

“Should I be afraid?”

Aija thought of the complex data she’d absorbed. The multidimensional ramifications of tinkering with the scale of Maat were beyond comprehension. From what they’d already done, the cost to Atlantis could be total devastation. They had to be stopped.

They’re obviously insane.

“Be afraid for all of Atlantis, but not for me.”

* * *

ORION AND THE GIRLS took to the sky early, wanting to catch chibis, a small bird that briefly passed through this time of year, making them a much sought after delicacy. Hawk and the new falcon drove the reactive flocks right toward owl, who plucked them from the air, two in each foot and delivered them alive to Orion on the ground. He placed them into a bag and transferred them to a large woven basket.

With the last delivery, he caged his girls for the drive into town. Whistling all the way, he couldn’t stop a great grin of satisfaction as he lifted his face to the early morning sun.

I am free of the curse!

Their birthday began at midnight, and he intended to have her wrapped in his arms the entire day, the best birthday present ever.

At the early morning market, he displayed his basket of chibis. “Fresh and unbruised,” he called, attracting attention. The market master stopped by for his cut and Orion handed him a small cage holding five birds. “I set these nice ones aside just for you.”

“What’s got you in such a good mood this early in the day?” the master asked as he attached the small cage to his massive belt.

“I’m a man in love,” Orion announced. He shrugged both shoulders. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Aye,” the master said. He eyed Orion up and down. “Ah, so you got a boner.” He crouched and made like holding a great cock. “And you think it’s going to be like this every day forever and so life looks pretty good.” He threw his head back and laughed.

“What’s so funny,” Orion asked, his grin fading.

“You,” the master said. “Just a pup and all certain about how life’s going to be. You don't know what each day will bring, so hold onto your boner, kid. Hold on. Because life is never what you think. One day it’s sunny, the next day it rains.”

Orion shook his head. His was a fated love, a destiny written in the stars. The master was wrong. “Don't worry about me, old man. Tomorrow’s my birthday, and I’m spending it in the arms of my one and only fated love.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Aija squared her shoulders and climbed to Carlyle’s quarters, taking the steps two at a time. Understanding what they planned whetted her anger, but she steeled herself to stay calm. “We’ll talk like adults.”

At Carlyle’s door, she paused to steady her rampaging heartbeat. She exhaled deeply, then called out, “Uncle Carlyle, are you here?”

A rustle of sounds and he appeared in the doorway. “Aija, come in dear.”

She entered with an engaging smile on her face, looking to trap the fly with honey. “Uncle, as you know, tomorrow is my birthday.”

He winked. “And how could I forget. In fact, I have something special planned for you this evening.”

Aija’s plastered smile grew warm, but not from good thoughts.

I know what you have planned, and I’m stopping you.

“Really, what?” she asked, all innocence.

He stuttered momentarily, then drew back with his ‘ah ha’ grin. “You almost got me, tricking me into revealing your secret birthday present.” He turned her about by the shoulders and faced her toward the door. “Go along now, I’ve much to do for tonight.”

She stopped and dug in her heels. “No, actually, I’m not going along. There’s something we need to discuss, and we’re going to do it now.” She turned on him, catching an unattractive open-mouthed expression on his face. Leveling her intense gaze on him, she said, “I know what you’re doing, and it has to stop.”

A surprise expression lasted a few seconds before he squinted and asked, “What do you mean, child?”

“I’m not a child, and you can stop treating me like one. I looked at your record keepers.” She stepped closer, going eye to eye with him. “You’re despicable for attempting this, and stupid if you thought I would help you. Tomorrow is my birthday and I’m spending it with someone important to me, a fated lover according to your star charts. When I return, you’ll report to me everything you’ve done to reverse these ridiculous plans to steal Maat’s scale. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll not roast you alive for trying to destroy my chances at fated love.”

Her ultimatum was delivered with venom and a curled lip. “You don’t want to press me on this, either, Uncle Carlyle. Do I make myself clear?”

While he didn’t exactly wilt, he did swallow. She waited to see if he choked.

He glared back, producing his own venom lacing through his words. “If you read the record keepers, you know the potential catastrophe you court with this ill-fated love. You risk destroying him and all of Atlantis.”

“Tis not I who risks destroying Atlantis, but you and your insane aspirations and treachery.” She ground her jaws, wanting to smack his vile face for the lifetime of lies and betrayal he’d fed her. “Take it all down.” She blinked slowly, controlling her anger. “And Carlyle, don't make me have to come back up here.” She spun on her heel and regally stalked out the door.

He called to her back, “What’s his name?”

She stopped and flung the words over her shoulder. “You know what his name is. Orion.”

As she stormed out, Carlyle glared at her back. His greatest fear had come home to destroy everything he’d worked for these last ten years. All he needed was her power for mere seconds, and the spell would be complete and set into motion.

We’re close ... so close! How do we keep it on track?

“I will not be thwarted by a willful child.” He ran out the door, seeking Protus. At his quarters, he shouted, “Protus! We have a problem.”

The priest rushed out, a worried crease marring his brow. “What is it? I’ve just collected the final ingredient for the spell, the heart of a chibi. Menin and I are ready tonight.”

“We’ve lost her. She went like a thief into my quarters and read my record keepers. She knows everything.”

Protus’ face froze in a grimace that would have been comical were the situation not so dire. “Everything?” he croaked.

“Yes. What I feared, the fated lovers has come to fruition. If I could just get my hands on the boy, we could use him as leverage.”

“His name is Orion,” Protus stated.

“Yes, of course some boy named Orion. But Orion who?”

“I’m telling you, her lover is Orion the young hunter who delivers small game to the market. The market master was laughing about this boy named Orion who planned to spend tomorrow his birthday with his fated love.”

“Tomorrow, her birthday,” Carlyle said. “And according to the star charts, tomorrow is the day of the catastrophe. That means tonight’s our last chance to bring all this together. You say this Orion can be found?”

“I bet the market master knows where he is.”

Carlyle pulled Protus along. “Come, we have spells to make.”

* * *

ORION SANG ROBUSTLY in the wagon as he drove home. He and the girls had a very successful day, and that combined with this morning’s take of chibis left him in good spirits.

“Not to mention tomorrow’s my birthday.” He set about skinning a brace of hares for dinner, pausing from time to time as his mind drifted into this evening’s activities. If he died tonight between Aija’s legs, he’d die a happy man.

He collected kindling and went to the fire pit. As he reached for the fire stick, a rustle of wind stirred the leaves behind him. His ears filled with pressure, like a storm suddenly rolled in, and the air whirled into a spinning vortex. He leaped backward as a man stepped through the vortex.

Orion reached for his skinning knife, but the man flicked his hand and the knife flew away. “Are you Orion, the small game hunter?”

“Who wants to know?” Orion challenged. The man raised his hand and squeezed thin air, but Orion felt the tightening fingers on his neck. He grabbed his throat, but there was nothing there.

The hand tightened. “Just answer the question.”

Orion vigorously nodded yes, wanting the hand to release his throat. When he caught his breath, he opened his mouth to object. But the man grabbed his hand and leaped through the vortex, pulling him through.

* * *

AIJA EXITED CARLYLE’S quarters, seething with anger, an emotion she’d never known in her life, perhaps a good thing considering her power. But right now, she was ready to destroy something. Her heart pounded, making her mouth dusty. A low roar invaded her head and filled her ears with pressure.

She found her mother in the solar. As soon as she glanced up and saw Aija’s face, she dropped what she held and came running. “What, Aija? What?”

Aija stopped and held up her hand. “Stay back.” She closed her eyes and panted, struggling to contain her power under the influence of so much anger. She held her face rigid, lips tight and glanced away, fearing she might burst into tears with an explosion of power.

Her mother’s voice came, soft and soothing. “Just calm down. Breathe, Aija, because you’re killing my garden.”

Aija popped her eyes open. Everything in a three-foot radius had wilted. Still fighting tears, she looked down and spread her hands, drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. She directed her energy outward and exhaled, breathing life back into the foliage. Composure regained, she said with a ragged voice, “I’ve given them instructions. We’ll see what they do.”

With that said, she relaxed and shook like a wet dog. Alyria still wore a furrowed brow, but Aija smiled. “Tomorrow’s our birthday. We intend to spend the entire day exercising our carnal desires, of which there are many.”

A quick glance showed Alyria’s brow still worried. “What? What bothers you?”

“You may be more powerful than they are, but they’re far more evil than you. You can’t trust them.”

“I’m more afraid of my anger, Mother.” She gestured to the revitalized garden. “I’ve never destroyed anything in my life with my power, but I want to destroy them. I have to give them a chance before I ...”

“What did the record keepers say about Atlantis?”

“She will go down. The question is ... at my hand or theirs.” She didn’t mention the myth about a goddess rising from Atlantis with Orion at her side because she couldn’t wrap her mind around being a goddess. Only three things frightened her: losing Orion, losing her anger, and being a goddess.

“I need to rest and bathe before going to Orion’s. If you need me, I’ll be in my quarters.” She hugged Alyria and gave her a smile. “Don't worry. Everything will be fine.” As she walked off, her smile faded, for she had lied.

She returned to her quarters. Exhaustion consumed her and she lay down. Peace she begged, but her mind produced a stinging flurry of emotion, with anger in the lead.

No, give me love.

Orion’s face filled her mind, and joy rushed in. She sighed, content, and drifted, floating. But the sky darkened and a quick storm filled the horizon, tossing the waves in her dream. Heart pounding, she woke suddenly. A glance out the window told her it was late afternoon.

Orion will be preparing dinner.

She rose and rushed to her bath, filling the tub with warm water. She poured in a scented oil and eased in up to her chin. Thinking of Orion brought a spasm of longing to her core. Her nipples hardened and she imagined the sensual delights waiting for them tonight and tomorrow. The warm water relaxed her. She closed her eyes and floated, returning to her dream, and looked up when the sky turned ominous again. A dark cloud covered the horizon.

As with her earlier dream, she bolted awake and sat up in the tub. Above her feet, a small black cloud hoovered over the splashing water from her sudden movement. This amazing and spontaneous creation came without needing a spell, or ingredients, or an incantation. As she thought of it, so it happened. She impatiently waved at the miniature storm and it evaporated.

Orion, I need you.

She finished her bath and dressed, pulling her wet hair back, not wanting to wait for it to dry. She grabbed a clean tunic and short pants and was ready to go. With her recent manifestations in mind, she desired to be at Orion’s—

Instantly, she was there.

A great thrill and a smile filled her heart and her face. “Orion,” she called. Having not teleported before, it took her brain a moment to process what her eyes were seeing. A brace of skinned hares lay on the cleaning board; the girls were in their cages with no water; the skinning knife lay on the ground; no fire blazed in the pit.

And no Orion.

Her smile faded and the hair stood up on the back of her neck. She sniffed and caught the scent of brimstone. “A first level dimensional portal.” Her chin dropped, amazed she’d let them out maneuver her. Then she clamped her lips tight with equal amazement that they were so stupid as to think they could control her by threatening him.

What a colossal mistake.

She snapped her fingers and appeared at the foot of the stairs at the Tower of Light. When she took the first step, a shot of lightning stabbed her foot. She backed up, lips tightening. “Really?” She teleported to the top level.

First, she saw Orion locked in a metal cage. He saw her. She put her finger to her lips.

For this I will kill them all.

Then she saw their spell.

A large interdimensional screen displayed the complex spell in several layers. Next to that a row of multi-dimensional screens was lit with displays of the cosmos, energy level measurements, and time flow charts. The tower walls were lined with containers of ingredients, their labels matching the list in the intricate spell.

They’re ready to do this tonight.

She had to steel herself from screaming and strode into the center of the room. As she gazed about and absorbed everything they had in motion, she gave them credit for genius ... right up to the point where they didn’t have enough power to pull it off.

With a nod of her chin she ignited small fires in a dozen ingredient containers. Slow plumes of smoke began to roll out from under the lids. A flick of her finger and the tower on a three-dimensional model with moving pieces teetered and fell, scattering parts to the floor.

In the row of interdimensional screens, she waved her hand and shattered the crystal power sources, shutting them down. One after another went black.

A distraught Menin came running in from a side room. Aija held up her hand, erecting an invisible wall of power that he ran full into. As he rebounded and hit the ground, she drew a circle in the air and encased him in a cage of energy. He opened his mouth to scream, but she entered his mind.

Sit down and shut up. And don’t make me come in here again.

He clapped his hands over his mouth and sat, tears running down his face.

She returned to destroying the spell. Already smoke gathered at the ceiling as dozens of ingredients burned. She shook her head at their primitive ways. All this preparation and concoction just for her to destroy it with a mere flicker of power.

Maybe I am the goddess.

A cacophony of shouts announced the approach of Carlyle and Protus. She pointed her finger at Protus and he dropped like a stone. Instantly, an energy cage surrounded him, leaving Carlyle alone to meet her wrath.

He circled her warily.

“I told you not to make me come back up here,” she declared.

Madness filled his eyes and he spun, gazing with comprehension at her destruction of his spell. “Look at this.” He turned his wild eyes on her. “You fool! You could have had unlimited power.”

“I already have unlimited power. That makes you the fool.”

Stunned, he continued to gaze about. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

“What’s done is on your shoulders—and your karma. You did this, not me. I’m just stopping it.” At that moment, the tower shook. Carlyle bent his knees and rode the swaying floor. “You’ve killed us all,” he cried.

In the far distance, Mt. Arimo shook and rumbled as its top exploded, followed by a sky-high ejecta of magma, ash and pyroclastic flow. A great roar and a rumble filled the air and the energy wave hit them, rattling the tower. Aija glanced at Orion and thought Come. He appeared at her side instantly.

Carlyle sank to his knees and wailed. “This is all your fault! You could have had it all, Atlantis at your feet.”

Aija grabbed Orion’s hand. “I’m the goddess who rises from Atlantis with Orion at my side. You created me and gambled with everyone’s life. But I choose Orion and love over power.”

She snapped her fingers.

* * *

FROM A FAR EASTERN shore, Aija, Orion, Alyria, and Zephyr watched Atlantis explode and sink. With the last of their home underwater, they turned to her with a single question evident in their eyes, even Zephyr’s.

“What now, you ask?” She gazed down, wondering that herself.

Alyria approached with an expression of shock on her face. “Daughter, what has happened to you?” She touched Aija’s chin and drew her about to examine her face. “Aija, your eyes.”

Orion came to see, and he, too, exclaimed.

“What?” she asked. She patted her face and eyes, feeling nothing out of place. “What do you see?”

Orion peered close, his mouth opening with amazement. “Your eyes are no longer ice blue, but the dark blue of the deep ocean, and—” He squinted as if searching for words.

“Galaxies,” Alyria said. “You have galaxies in your eyes. Points of light like the stars of the cosmos.”

Aija stared at the constellation Orion. Just as Atlantis had exploded and sunk, so had Orion’s belt exploded. With her new ability, she saw beyond the mass explosion that obscured the hunter in the sky. Instead, she saw that Orion was not destroyed at all, but protected behind the great explosion of the comet. And gratefully, the wheel of karma was righted, waiting for Carlyle, Protus, and Menin.

The ancients spoke of her eons before her birth; she was the goddess and Orion walked at her side. She gazed at her birthmark with wonder. Orion joined her. They clasped hands and put their birthmarks together.

A blue white surge of energy shot through them, bringing a vision as real as if it surrounded them. Aija gasped, reeling again from information as when she held the record keepers of Carlyle. “Did you see it?” she asked him.

“I saw a new world. The best of Atlantis, without the evil.” He wobbled slightly, and she grabbed him, pulling him in. Putting her back to the last rumblings of Atlantis, she gazed in the opposite direction.

She smiled and squeezed Orion’s hand. With the guiding vision and him beside her, she knew they would find their way and create a new Atlantis, one the world could be proud of.

THE END

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IN 2015 AND 2016 DANA Lyons was voted one of 50 Great Authors You Should Be Reading. She writes speculative fiction, hot & sexy paranormal romance including shape shifter, reverse harem, crime mystery, and time travel, as well as contemporary romance, and suspense thriller.

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