Chapter Ten

 

“Hydros probably can’t track you down…not yet, at least,” Pele advised and handed me a white linen tunic for this trip. “But promise me one thing. You won’t do anything foolish, like chance a swim in the ocean again, will you?”

“You know about that?” I gasped, remembering how quickly the superstorm descended upon the Pacifica coastline after my little skimboarding episode. I only meant to impress Micah and Sully, but ended with a short dip in the ocean that enabled Hydros to pinpoint my precise location. “You really don’t think I need to worry about Gaia?”

“No, but just to be safe, you should wear these.” The goddess handed me a pair of sandals with extra thick rubber soles.

I slipped on the shoes and stepped inside my tent to change into the new outfit she’d provided. The cloth hung loosely around my body, so I tied a section of cord around my waist and adjusted the folds. Luckily, this tunic felt far more comfortable than my clothes from the last trip.

“And now for your hair,” Pele said when I emerged from the tent. Her fingers deftly wove my hair into a braid down the back of my head, adorning it with lovely jeweled barrettes. She plucked a handful of velvety white flowers and tucked them carefully into the folds of my braid. I imagined I looked so different compared to my escape from the burning streets of Old Chicago that landed me in modern day Pacifica. Feeling surprisingly beautiful, I wished I had a mirror…or better yet a phone to take a picture to send to Sully.

“Ready?” Pele asked. She stood back to admire her work.

I took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Her lips turned up in a smile. She closed her eyes in concentration and chanted in Hawaiian. The obsidian amulet around my neck glowed a brilliant white. I recognized a few words of her chant—like kea meaning white and ahi for fire—before the amulet’s flames engulfed my entire body in a blinding, oppressive heat. My body whisked away from the familiar lava fields through the dark tunnel of time and space to the precise destination I had chosen.

All the while, I prayed to God I hadn’t made a huge mistake.

Atlantis, 1260 B.C.

After I landed, I surveyed my arms and garments, once again amazed to find the white linens of my tunic remained intact. Even the delicate flowers in my hair felt as fresh as when Pele had plucked them from their stems.

“Amazing,” I marveled with a low whistle. I concentrated and snapped my fingers together, mimicking Pele’s actions. But to my disappointment, only a small yellow flame appeared within my palm. I made a mental note to ask Pele to reveal her trick once I completed this mission.

My eyes left my fresh garments to marvel at the unparalleled beauty that unfolded before me. A range of toothed mountaintops surrounded the valley of patchwork fields teeming with a wide array of crops. Above the peaks, long beams of sunlight poked through the downy clouds, casting a brilliant glow upon the earth. But in the center stood the most spectacular sight of all: an island set like a solitary gem in the middle of a sapphire sea. A tall peak rose alone from the heart of the island, its summit capped with a monumental temple of sparkling stone pillars that supported a great roof of glittering gold. Canals encircled the island in concentric circles, with a single road bridging the mainland with the island’s center.

“My destination,” I assumed and set forth down the path leading toward the resplendent city of Atlantis. The obsidian amulet bounced up and down with each step, its glassy black surface gleaming in the intense rays of the tropical sun. I tucked Pele’s amulet beneath my tunic to avoid unwanted attention. Nearing the bottom of the hill, the path widened into a cobbled street and led through a series of gates and towers. I slipped into the flow of pedestrians entering the city, secretly glad my straight black hair and olive skin helped me blend in well with the native Atlanteans.

I passed columns of soldiers marching in formation, parading down the magnificent city streets where buildings glittered in the sunlight. Judging by the conversations of the crowd around me, the troops readied for battle against their rival city of Athens. Each soldier wore shiny armored plates with a trident emblazoned across his chest and a helmet decorated with plumes dyed a brilliant shade of aqua to honor the sea god, Poseidon. Spectators assembled to cheer the city’s protectors with fanfare and flags waving on high.

I slipped through the boisterous crowd, searching for a sign of Gaia and Shannon. Just inside the second gate, I spotted Gaia’s russet hair falling in long waves down her back. Slowly, I inched closer, hiding behind the carts in hopes of overhearing their conversation unnoticed.

“But it’s so unbearably hot here,” Shannon complained and plopped down along the side of the curb, mopping the beads of perspiration from her forehead.

“Try this,” Gaia insisted. She presented Shannon with a gift wrapped in paper and string.

Shannon ripped open the parcel and held up an elegant tunic of indigo silk, pressed flat.

“What do you think?” Gaia prodded.

“It will suffice.” Shannon said in a bored tone. She stood, holding the tunic against her body and stepped behind a privacy curtain near one of the carts to change. Her face wore a fixed frown when she emerged, even with the wind rippling through the folds of her airy silk.

“And now for your hair.” Gaia presented an ivory comb and smoothed out her strands, tying them off her neck in a loose bun. “Better?” she asked.

“I suppose,” Shannon replied unconvincingly.

“Just wait. You will learn to love this land,” she said, eager to entice the scared girl with the power and glory of Atlantis. She led Shannon through the crowd. I waited until they were further up the street before leaving my hiding spot. I followed at a safe distance, weaving between midday shoppers, my eyes trained on Gaia’s every move.

Suddenly, Gaia paused, spinning her head in a suspicious glance over her left shoulder, sensing someone followed.

Frightened she had spotted me, I stopped in front of the nearest cart filled with glass vials of various shapes, my back turned toward Gaia as I pretended to make a purchase. Feigning interest, I picked up a vial containing a ruby colored liquid, turning its contents over in my hand while I prayed Gaia hadn’t noticed me.

“That’s Dragon’s Blood,” declared a little girl, not more than ten years of age. Her deep brown eyes studied me intently, urging me to make a purchase. She stood behind her cart in a simple toga. Her plain clothing didn’t detract from her inherent beauty. A pronounced widow’s peak and silky black hair framed her heart-shaped face. Her mouth turned down. I wondered why she seemed so sad for someone so young.

I blinked and looked down at her frail form. “Dragon’s Blood? But I thought dragons didn’t exist.” Then again, I never imagined a serpent like the Cata monster existed either.

In an instant, the girl’s frown erased into a wide, knowing smile. Her white teeth gleamed bright against her dark skin. “It’s not from real dragons,” she corrected me with a chuckle. “It comes from the Dragon tree.” She pointed across the street to a large tree that towered nearly fifty feet above the vendor’s carts below. Its upper branches wove together into a complex network to support the broad, fan-shaped canopy above. “Dragon trees make good medicine,” she continued. “And when I break off the bark, I collect the red Dragon’s Blood.”

My gaze returned to the girl, mildly impressed with her knowledge and skills for someone of her age. “You sure know a lot for a little girl.”

She stood straighter, her dark eyes filled with conviction as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

I peeked over my shoulder to ensure Gaia and Shannon remained within view. “I’m sorry,” I began. “I didn’t mean to assume—”

A hardened look formed in her eyes.

What a little spitfire, I thought. My smile widened. “What’s your name?”

The girl proudly puffed out her chest. “My name is Monifa, daughter of Aziza.”

“Monifa?” I repeated. “That’s a pretty name.”

The girl’s chest slowly deflated. “It means lucky,” she stated, her voice softer. A faraway look filled her eyes. “But I don’t feel very lucky.”

“Really? Why’s that?” I asked in a distracted tone and snuck another glance at Gaia and Shannon. They had moved a bit farther down the street, stopping briefly as Gaia directed Shannon’s gaze up the hill toward the peak of the magnificent Temple of Poseidon. The bright midday sun reflected brilliantly off the golden rooftop and pure white pillars, like a beacon calling to Gaia.

“I am an orphan,” Monifa continued as her dark eyes glazed with a coating of tears. “My mother, precious Aziza, died in childbirth, so my father chose this name since I was lucky enough to survive. But now he’s gone, too.”

“Really?” I asked, my voice filled with sincerity for the girl who shared my pain of losing her entire family. For a moment, I completely forgot my concern of Gaia detecting my presence in this ancient island and focused on the girl’s tale.

Monifa nodded. “When the Atlanteans attacked our Egyptian town, my father went to fight against them.” She heaved a deep, saddened sigh before finishing in a small voice, “He never returned.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said, placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder. “How did you end up here? Were you adopted?”

She shook her head and took a step out from behind the cart. Hearing the jingle of metal chains dragging against the hard ground, I instantly regretted my question. My gaze traveled down her small frame toward her ankles where a pair of metal shackles bound her dusty bare legs together. How foolish of me to remind her of her unfair situation.

Monifa squeezed her eyes shut to block the horrors. “They took all the survivors,” she explained, “and made us into slaves. That was four months ago now. Four months since my luck went away and I was sold to the old widow Vallejo.”

“I am truly sorry,” I said again, meaning every word. I remembered the pain I felt when Gaia collapsed the roof of my house, trapping my family inside, before manipulating my fire to ignite the structure. The screams of my little sister, Sarah, still echoed in my ears.

So captivated by her story and lost in my past, I contemplated the unfortunate turn of events that bonded this stranger to myself. When I clasped my chest to share in her pain, my fingers grazed Pele’s amulet. Oh my God. I’d forgotten all about the importance of my mission!

My head spun wildly, searching for a sign of Gaia and Shannon, but I’d lost them from view. “I’m sorry, but I have to go,” I quickly apologized to Monifa and placed the vial back on her cart.

A look of disappointment filled her heart-shaped face. She hung her head and sniffled. “If I don’t sell at least five more vials today, Señora Vallejo threatened to beat me again.” She lifted up her plain toga, exposing the backs of her calves, covered in mottled bruises of faded yellows and greens.

With a shudder, I reached deep into my pockets, praying Pele had the foresight to give me something to use for bartering. But my pockets were empty. What did I expect—she’d actually have access to ancient coins from a lost civilization? That’s asking a lot, even for a goddess.

Then I got an idea. I unclasped five jeweled barrettes from my braids, letting my plaits loosen until my black hair spilled around my face. “I’ll take five,” I declared, and placed the barrettes on the top of her cart.

Monifa’s face brightened. “Maybe my father was right and I am a little lucky. Lucky to have met you today, at least,” she said and passed me five vials of Dragon’s Blood. “Thank you—” she paused, searching for a name to put with the kind customer who spared her from another beating.

“Jordan,” I replied, returning her smile. “My name’s Jordan.”

“Thank you, Jordan,” she repeated, her dark eyes twinkling with delight. She turned the barrettes over in her hand, letting the gems sparkle in the sunlight.

I gave her a quick wave and stuffed the vials in my pocket, though I did not intend to put something called Dragon’s Blood on my body, regardless of her claims. Turning down the street, I quickened my pace, furious with myself for getting so distracted. The girl’s tale was compelling, but not worth losing sight of Gaia and Shannon, despite my intentions to help Monifa. I frantically scanned each side street for Gaia’s distinctive crown of hair. The glass vials jingled in my pocket with every step, undoubtedly attracting unwanted attention to myself. I couldn’t abandon the vials now, not while in sight of Monifa and her wares.

Passing a main road, I caught a startlingly clear view of Poseidon’s temple perched on the top of the hill and instantly paused in my tracks. That’s it, I thought, changing my course to head up the street. Gaia’s definitely taking her there.

Sure enough, far ahead on the steep street, I spotted a tiny red head bobbing up and down with each step. Gaia.

Certain that Monifa had lost sight of me, I removed all but one of the vials from my pocket and dashed up the street, hoping Pele’s thick-soled sandals would silence my heavy footfalls.

I reached the temple, short of breath, my heart pounding against my rib cage. Inside, I heard the deep echoes of a pair of voices from within the great hall. I stole across the entryway, hiding behind a giant column, trying to catch bits of Gaia and Shannon’s conversation.

Imposing statues towered above me, fierce expressions carved into their ivory faces to instill terror amongst the citizens of this island. Their vacant eyes stared down at me, questioning my worthiness to intrude upon this magnificent temple. In the center loomed a statue of Atlas, the first king of Atlantis and son of the sea god, Poseidon. He bore a commanding presence in the room with his sculpted muscles, chiseled jawbone and prominent chin framed in flowing tresses of hair. The exquisite detail the artists used in displaying every feature from his manicured toenails to the sinews and bulging veins in his arms and neck astonished me. His eyes remained intentionally blank and foreboding, appearing cognizant of everything that occurred in his worldly domain.

I shuddered, suddenly afraid my unwelcome presence here might rile the anger of the gods and unwittingly bring destruction to Atlantis. Gaia’s voice interrupted my thoughts. I slipped behind one of the statues, craning my neck for a better view.

“Like I told you before,” Gaia boasted strutting with pride across the marble floor as she gestured to the statues surrounding them, “this is what you were destined for—not your old, mundane life. With my help, people will soon be carving statues of us to honor our greatness.”

“If you say so,” Shannon replied with a disinterested nod. A wistful look filled her eyes, preferring her former agrarian existence along the banks of the river in ancient Ireland that shared her name.

Gaia’s excited voice rose an octave when she continued, “Opulent jewels, unimaginable power, and worldly fame can all be yours. Imagine them constructing an entire temple like this in your honor!”

“Don’t presume anything about me. I don’t want any of this,” Shannon cried.

Gaia’s eyes gleamed as she gazed down upon the city, the golden rooftops sparkling in the sunshine. “It begins now,” she stated with confidence, ignoring Shannon’s hesitation. Gaia reached into her pocket and pulled out a shiny gold necklace. I squinted for a better look of their figures, backlit by the bright outdoors. Gaia slipped the necklace over Shannon’s head, sliding her long brown hair to the side while she fastened its clasp.

“What’s this?” Shannon asked. She held up the golden charm inlaid with precious jewels that sparkled in the light with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds.

“It’s a nautilus shell,” Gaia answered, “to represent the power you share with the sea. Think of it as a precursor of things to come. But for now, let me show you what else lies in store.” Gaia strode across the great hall, beckoning Shannon to follow.

The girl resisted, rooted to her spot as she examined the nautilus shell with reservation.

Suddenly, everything made sense to me. My hand instinctively crept its way toward Pele’s obsidian stone tucked beneath my tunic. Did Shannon’s nautilus shell carry a similar power? Would it allow Gaia to control Shannon’s jumps through time, essentially guaranteeing her entry and exit points?

“It’s beautiful on you,” Gaia said. Her lips turned up into a smug, calculating smile, making me presume it indeed served the same function as my amulet.

“I suppose,” Shannon replied in a meek tone. At that moment, I was convinced that Shannon would never join Gaia, just like I vowed never to fight by her side.

“It’s perfect,” Gaia continued, oblivious to Shannon’s hesitation. “We can begin training here, on the outer ring of the city where you are nearest the sea.”

Shannon shook her head, a frightened look consuming her thin face. “I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t want to make the commitment.” And without another word, she turned and walked out of the temple. Gaia followed at her heels, trying to persuade her to change her mind.

I swallowed hard, fearful of what might happen next should their tempers flare. Giving them a safe head start, I ducked behind buildings periodically. Gaia and Shannon soon reached the bottom of the hill and exited the first gate. From their facial expressions and mannerisms, I knew the argument had escalated by the time they passed through the last set of gates to enter the outer ring of the island. I inched closer, eager to witness how their altercation developed.

Suddenly, Shannon defiantly stopped in her tracks. Adamant, she refused to take another step. “I’ve had enough. Take me back now. I want to go home.”

Gaia’s eyes narrowed. Her cheeks flushed hot with rage. “How can you be so insolent?” she screamed, turning on Shannon. “I offer you power and prestige—more wealth than you ever imagined growing up in your pathetic Irish hut—and this is how you thank me?” She planted her foot on the ground to emphasize her point. The earth responded with a mild tremor that made everybody shift suddenly on unsteady feet. I braced my body against the side of the tower and craned my neck.

“No. I only want to go home. Leave me alone.”

Gaia reached for her wrist. “You will join me,” she declared, her anger mounting.

“No. I won’t.” Louder she yelled, “Leave me alone!” with the intention of making a scene.

Soldiers’ heads turned, ready to act. Gaia stomped her foot with greater force, rattling the earth once more.

Tears streamed from Shannon’s face. She struggled to stay upright. “Stop it!” she cried, her lower lip quivering. Her eyes turned steely cold. A frightening, determined look ruled her face. I saw her hand reach behind her to summon reserves. I glanced toward the ocean, watching with disbelief where the sea began to recede. Fish flopped helplessly on the reef and Atlanteans swarmed with baskets, eager to collect this unexpected feast.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this. All that water had to go somewhere. And chances were, it would be returning here to Atlantis all too soon, just like the superstorm in Pacifica. Only there, I had a car to escape the surging water. And here…I glanced over my shoulder where Poseidon’s temple gleamed in the bright sun. No longer caring if Gaia saw me, I turned on my heels and sprinted back toward the center of the island, seeking higher ground.

Running as fast as I could, I dodged the crowds of unsuspecting townsfolk, when I found myself on a familiar street once more. Monifa! I have to help her, I thought, quickly spotting the little girl by her cart of vials. “There’s not much time!” I shouted and dashed toward her cart. “Quick! Come with me.”

The girl’s face registered alarm. “But my cart…” she began.

“Leave it. We must hurry.” And without another word, I grabbed her hand and dragged her down the street, her shackles clanking with each labored step. I glanced over my shoulder, spotting the fast approaching water.

Pandemonium reigned when the first wave approached shore. It surged several stories in height before barreling up the city streets. My eyes filled with fear as I watched the monstrous wall of water head straight for Atlantis. That’s the scary thing about tsunamis, I recalled from the last one Hydros set on Pacifica to slow my escape. They just keep coming and coming and coming, flattening everything in their path and dragging it all out to sea. And with everything in its path gone, the subsequent waves found less resistance, sweeping further inland with every pass.

We’ll never make it to the temple at this rate, I thought grimly, sorry for the little girl forced to sell Dragon’s Blood daily on the streets.

Dragon’s Blood. That gave me an idea, remembering the Dragon Tree stood nearby. I hurried her up into the safety of its branches with me in close pursuit, just as the waters surged up the street and reached Monifa’s cart. “You’re almost there,” I encouraged her. “Keep going.”

She struggled up the branches as the water reached the base of the tree. Monifa whimpered with fear, but kept climbing upward. Once or twice, her wide eyes glanced downward, startled by the power of the water beneath. We reached the top branches of the canopy, but the water continued to rise.

“I don’t know how to swim,” Monifa admitted through trembling lips.

“It’s okay. You’ll be safe here,” I said, comforting her. Soon the water nipped at our ankles, our calves, and our waists, before covering our shoulders.

Suddenly, the rushing current changed directions and sucked the screaming civilians and debris back to sea, including us.

“I can’t hold on much longer,” she cried. The water dragged her body from its spot.

I wound my arm around the stiff branches. “I’ve got you. I promise,” I said, battling the raging waters with an outstretched hand.

Monifa reached for me, but her fingers slipped through mine.

“No! Grab hold, Monifa!” I exclaimed and stretched my arm as far as I could reach. Still, it wasn’t enough. With great despair, I watched her fingers slide through mine, the current ripping her from the tree.

“No!” I screamed madly. Weighed down by shackles bound to her ankles, her head sank beneath the waves, soon lost from view. My tears mixed with the salty water, polluted with all sorts of debris while I clung for life within the branches of the Dragon Tree.

The waters soon receded under Shannon’s control. I scrambled down the tree, crying the entire way. But the time I reached the bottom, my tunic was tattered and my arms covered in red scrapes and cuts. But when I wiped away the blood, I realized it wasn’t my own. It’s Dragon’s Blood, I thought, missing Monifa even more. A pang of despair filled my heart that I couldn’t save her life.

I knew there wasn’t time to mourn, not when another wave would soon return. Calling upon all my strength, I forced my legs to move faster uphill.

Nearing the Temple of Poseidon, I reached for Pele’s black obsidian amulet, no longer caring if others might notice. My secret would remain safe since I doubted a single soul would survive this violent day. Afraid Shannon would soon unleash her full fury, I needed to return to the present before the worst of the disaster struck.

When my hand sought the cord of coconut fibers around my neck, I touched nothing but skin. “Oh my God,” I gasped, frantically searching the folds of my tunic, praying it stuck inside the folds of white linen. I found nothing. I dropped to my knees, consumed with grief. I realized my worst fears were confirmed…

The amulet had disappeared.

I panicked, my throat tight with fear, wondering if I should retrace my steps to search for it. The sea had swept away everything behind me. Did it rip off when I climbed down the Dragon Tree? It had happened so fast, my first instinct was to try to help Monifa and escape the oncoming wave rather than leave Atlantis altogether. And now I must pay for that choice.

“I don’t want to die,” I whispered, forcing myself to my feet. There must be another way. I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes growing wide at the new rush of water surging inland. “Just survive this next wave,” I told myself, “then you can figure out a way to return.” Thinking fast, I slipped the rope cord from around my waist and bound one section to a stronghold of the temple below me, the other wrapped tightly around my wrist. As a precaution, I grasped the cord inside my fist, vowing I would never let go. Once again, the waters rose incredibly fast, covering my ankles, my knees, and my waist.

I clung to the roof of the temple, having nowhere else left to climb. In the distance, I spotted Gaia and Shannon, supported on pillars of rock Gaia had thrust upward to lift them high above the incoming rush. In that moment, I envied Gaia’s earthly powers. My fire proved no match against this volume of moving water. The swift current beat against the edges of her domain, but did not erode the dense rock. And when the waters continued upward, Gaia extended their pillars, creating a land bridge all the way to the mountains of the mainland.

The sun dipped below the mountain peaks, bathing the sky in a brilliant shade of bronze, despite the destruction that unfolded before it. I caught one final glimpse of the clouds backlit in bright golden hues before the rising waters reached my neck. The rope stretched to its maximum length. I fought to tread water above the stronghold of Poseidon’s temple, my only connection to the land far beneath my feet.

Traces of the distant clear pale sky flickered above my head. I held my breath underwater, praying I wouldn’t drown. I could not escape through fire this time, not here beneath the water with my sole means of travel lost forever in the deep blue sea.

Just before the water consumed my head, I puffed my cheeks full of air, hoping the supply would last me long enough until the wave diminished. But the water swelled higher and higher and I feared my luck had reached its end.

I do not want to die here! I reminded myself, the waters swirling about my head. I forced myself to think of Sully, and to find strength in the slim chance I would see him once again. The air inside my cheeks escaped in a slow trail of gurgling bubbles, depleting my last reserves of oxygen. My cheeks drained flat and I gasped, choking on the water, desperate for another breath of air.

Only there was none.

I closed my eyes, ready to succumb to my inevitable fate. I would never see Sully again. Never live a normal life. Never complete this mission and return to Pele. I had failed…and not just in saving Monifa, but in saving myself.

My fingers slipped from their grip on the cord, no longer concerned about maintaining my last connection to the temple. My body felt heavy, lacking the will to survive. I sunk lower in the water column, my weary feet landing on the roof in their final resting place. Nothing mattered anymore because I had failed. I drew small comfort in reuniting with my loved ones who had passed before me.

Just when I’d abandoned hope, the wave receded. The water level descended below the top of my head, exposing my skin to the soft ocean breeze. A shock enveloped my body, surging new life into my fatigued limbs. I struggled against the outgoing current and gasped on the fresh air.

A second chance! I shouted inside my mind, forcing my body to alertness. And if Shannon called another wave upon the city, this might indeed prove my last chance to escape.

I remembered Pele’s words: “Though you use fire as your catalyst, in truth, the magic resides inside of you. All you need is to believe and feel this specific time with every ounce of your entire body and soul.”

“Kea, ahi, kea, ahi,” I repeated in a low voice, committing my entire heart and soul to believing in the Hawaiian words Pele had used to summon the white fire. I focused my full attention on the stamp of time from which I had departed, hoping and praying to return to that very spot. The warmth inside me grew stronger as my anger mounted. “I don’t want to die here,” I repeated with conviction. Blood ran hot through my veins. I felt the familiar burn alight in my eyes, like orange firelight consumed their ebony color, until they gradually shifted into the blinding whiteness of Pele’s fire. Despite my drenched clothes and hair, the fire burst forth from within me until I spiraled into the darkness of space.