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Atlanta woke with a start.
She sat up quickly, instinctively reaching for her sword while a ball of fire burst around her clenched fist. The world around her swam in and out of focus, and she struggled to find her bearings before blindly lashing out at the darkness around her. In her mind the hybrids were everywhere, and the only thing holding them back and away from Damian and the Lunar Books was her.
She blinked several times, shaking her head quickly as her chest heaved with rapid breaths and her heart hammered. Slowly, her surroundings grew sharper, and she realized that she wasn’t in the woods outside Everlore anymore.
She was home. In her basement. Sitting in her uncle’s makeshift bed in the closed-off room where he had spent nights working. She looked at the closed door and frowned.
What the...?
She grasped for her sword again, remembering all too well what had happened the last time she had been brought to the basement of her house. But her hand found nothing. For the first time since waking she looked down and realized she’d been stripped of not only her weapons, but her clothes as well.
The fire around her fist quickly went out as she grabbed for her blanket and covered herself. She sat completely still, staring at the chamber’s closed door and listening for any threatening sounds from outside, waiting. When she was sure she was alone and that no one would come barging into the room, she slid out of bed, carefully and silently. She wrapped the blanket around her, letting her feet rest on the cold floor. A dim light pierced the chamber, allowing her to see very little, but her night vision had gotten better over the years and she knew the room inside out. She didn’t need any more light.
A few feet away, on the table where she had often found her uncle crouched over one project or the other, were her weapons and suit. They had been laid out carefully, as if waiting for her to wake up.
Why am I here?
How did I get here? Who brought me here? A flurry of questions raced through her head. Her last memory was of her fight outside Everlore, and then nothing. Now she was naked, wrapped in a blanket in her old basement, surrounded by darkness. She needed to figure out what was going on.
But first, get dressed.
She didn’t even want to think about who had undressed her in the first place. She crept towards the table, and cried out in surprise when she stubbed her toe against something hard. She hissed, taking in a sharp breath and wincing against the slight pain.
The door to the room flew open and she whirled around in surprise, momentarily dropping the blanket as she readied herself to face her attacker.
Ryan stood at the threshold, light pouring into the room from behind him, his eyes wide in shock. Atlanta felt her heart stop for a second. The last time she’d seen him he was attacking her uncle on the tower rooftop, compelled by Adelaide, a foe rather than a friend. She stared at him in horror, instantly looking at his eyes, wondering if he was still compelled and had come to try to kill her.
“Atlanta?” Ryan asked, his eyes briefly shifting downwards before coming back up quickly.
“Ryan?” Atlanta breathed. “Is that really you?”
From behind Ryan a second figure rushed to his side. Damian took one look at Atlanta, then quickly turned around and pulled Ryan back, slamming the door closed. “Get dressed, please, Atlanta,” Damian said from outside.
Atlanta frowned, then looked down at the piled blanket at her feet.
Oh, crap!
She raced to the table, snatching her suit and cursing under her breath. She felt heat rise in her cheeks as she pulled it on, quickly stowing her weapons in their proper place. Ryan and Damian. Together. In her basement. What the heck was going on?
And they both saw me naked. Don’t forget about that!
Atlanta felt the embarrassment race through her, and quickly made her way to the small bathroom in the corner. She turned on the lights, and stopped with a start when her eyes fell on the reflection staring back at her from the mirror.
At first she thought she was looking at someone else completely. She didn’t recognize the face gazing back at her, not at first. But it was definitely her. The eyes, the cheekbones, the curve of her lips. They were all familiar. They were what she expected to see.
But not the hair.
Her hair had somehow been cut short, barely reaching her shoulders, and the light blonde she’d been used to seeing every morning when she would wash her face was now a strange shade of silver—almost white. Platinum maybe? She reached up and touched the strands, carefully brushing them out of her face. Whatever was going on she needed to figure it out, and quickly. She felt like she was losing her mind.
She washed her face quickly and walked out of the bathroom, taking one quick look at her reflection. She slowly opened the chamber door, blinking repeatedly as the lights of the basement blinded her, and stepped out.
“Look who’s decided to finally wake up.”
Atlanta’s eyes swept over the company seated and standing in various corners of the basement. Raul lay sprawled on the disintegrating couch, the one she had woken up on a lifetime ago when she had first met the Druid and her brother. Marcus stood behind the couch, gazing at her, a small smile on his face. A few feet away, at the workstation where the three Lunar Books lay open, was Damian.
But Atlanta’s eyes lingered the longest on Ryan. He stood furthest away from the rest, arms crossed, green eyes staring into hers with such intensity she could almost feel them against her face. A part of her wanted to scream at him, to pull out her sword and thrust it through his chest. The fight on the tower roof suddenly flashed before her eyes, and she knew she was supposed to be angry.
The anger never came, though. As she stared at Ryan, her hands shaking, a deep sense of relief washed over her. She took a step towards him, hesitant, and when he dropped his guard, letting his hands fall to his side, she raced to him. She threw her arms around his neck and almost cried when his own wrapped around her, pulling her close, clinging to her tightly.
She didn’t need to say anything, and thankfully he didn’t either. They stood there for a long time, holding each other, breathing each other in, and Atlanta suddenly felt much lighter. As if a heavy burden had been lifted off her shoulders.
“I looked all over for you,” Ryan whispered, his lips brushing the side of her neck.
She felt the tears coming, and reluctantly pushed away from him. She looked up, gazing into his green eyes. Eyes that were no longer compelled. Eyes that didn’t reflect malice, but concern and maybe a hint of regret. Eyes that promised he would protect her no matter what came.
She smiled at him. “And here I am.”
Ryan smiled back, then gently touched the loose strands of her hair. “When did you get the time to go to a hairdresser?”
Atlanta laughed, shaking her head and stepping away from him a bit. She looked to the others, and smiled when Damian came over and embraced her. She was glad he was alive; waking up in the dark chamber had left little comfort in her heart as to what had become of her brother. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered.
“I’d like to take credit for that,” Damian said, holding her at arm’s length and looking her up and down. “Unfortunately, I have no idea what happened.”
“We were surrounded,” Atlanta said.
Damian nodded. “And I woke up here, with all the others. No one seems to have an answer.”
Atlanta turned to Ryan. “How did you find us?”
“Not here,” Marcus replied instead. Atlanta turned to him, frowning in confusion. “We were following a hybrid. Sure enough, he was leading us to Everlore. I should’ve known you might find your way there.”
“Why?”
Marcus hesitated, then said, “I knew of your mother.”
Atlanta’s mind went blank for a second, her mother’s face appearing before her before she shook the memory away. She glared at Marcus, her lips pressed tight. “You knew?”
Marcus only nodded.
“And you never said a word?” Atlanta’s voice rose. “In all these years?”
“I respected your uncle’s wishes,” Marcus said. “We understood the dangers of letting Adelaide know about you. Telling you about your mother would have meant drawing the witch to our doorstep.”
“Because that hasn’t happened anyway?” Atlanta shot back. This wasn’t his fault, but it felt good trying to lay blame on someone.
Marcus visibly winced. “I understand how you feel, Atlanta,” he said, his voice still carrying an air of authority despite visibly being on shaky ground. “I urged your uncle to tell you the truth many times, but in the end, it was not my choice. His plan was ultimately sound. He prepared you well, and here you stand, facing the enemy.”
Atlanta couldn’t hold her anger back anymore and made for Marcus, a strong hand pulling her back. She whipped around, and Ryan quickly shook his head. “Don’t tell me you knew, too.”
“I had no idea,” Ryan replied quickly. “My father might have, but he sure didn’t share it with me.”
Damian placed a hand on Atlanta’s shoulder and squeezed. “We can discuss this later,” he said. “For now, I need you to regain your strength. Eat, drink, rest. We can’t stay here for long.”
Atlanta shot a look at Marcus. “What else were you all hiding from me?”
“Atlanta—” Damian began.
“No!” she snapped. “I want to know everything! Look at us, we’re hiding away like rats. Whatever secrets you thought were going to keep me safe have backfired. If there’s anything else you’re holding back, now’s the time to tell me!”
Marcus lowered his head, and when he looked back up his composure couldn’t hide the anger in his eyes. “I have nothing else to say,” he said. “If you want someone to blame you’re looking in the wrong direction, young Skolar.”
Atlanta immediately knew what he meant, and it infuriated her even more. She forcefully pulled out of Ryan’s grasp and made her way back to the chamber.
“Where are you going?” Damian asked.
“You said I needed to rest,” she spat. “That’s what I’m doing.”
The chamber door slammed behind her.
