21. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter 21
D ante stared at Rieka as she stood transfixed.
She hadn’t moved in five minutes. He would have been the same if Rieka hadn’t distracted him. She was fast invading all his thoughts. But the image of her standing in front of the mosaic was seared into his mind. Just like the vision Sypha had shared with him. The faceless woman; the key to finding the tomb. Except the woman was no longer faceless. She was undeniably Rieka.
“I think it’s the original,” Idris said. “The colors have survived this long because it has been kept in complete darkness for over eleven thousand years.”
Dante nodded as he moved to stand closer to Rieka. She half-turned and slowly blinked at him. Her eyes were almost entirely tinged red.
The mosaic was breathtaking. It followed the circular room and created the illusion that anyone who stood at the center of the room was a part of the scene. Monstrous waves crashed along the pristine white foreshore. A lone golden temple stood in the distance, towering over the island. Its golden archway was engulfed in violet flames.
The fall of Atlantis.
The island was a perfect snapshot in time. Its white shores continued to be battered by a tumultuous ocean. A twinkling night sky was painted above them; a constellation Dante did not recognize. It was likely to have not been observed in more than eight thousand years, or however old the Arx was.
Idris hovered near the door as he watched them intently.
“Will this still be open when the vault closes?” Rieka asked.
“We are searching to see if any of the other tunnels lead to the Arx,” Idris answered. “But if we can’t find one, this entrance will be closed off with the vault.”
“At least it will be protected.” Rieka moved closer to the mosaic until she was standing almost nose to the tile. “Vandana has a sword in this version.”
Like the statue.
Dante looked at the silhouette of the lone figure, a woman. Her long, vibrant red hair hung in a loose braid, and she stared out into the distance. In the mosaic, Vandana wore a flowing black gown, not armor. Vandana loosely gripped the sword with her left hand, her fingers tinged red. With blood. In the reflection of the polished metal of the sword, glimpses of fallen, mutilated bodies could be seen strewn across the once-white sand. A massacre.
When had the myth of the warrior queen disappeared and been replaced by the image of the martyr and maiden? His mother, Dion, would have dedicated her life to finding the tomb, just like his father, if she’d known Vandana was a warrior.
“Vandana, the last queen of Atlantis,” Idris said, breaking the silence between them. “Vandana, the last heir of House Atlas.”
“What really happened to her?” Rieka brought her fingers up to the silhouette.
A question that plagued the lives of thousands of scholars—had driven some of them into the brink of darkness. Some, like his father, had dedicated their lifetime to finding the truth and consequently died in the blind pursuit to find it. Just like Rieka’s mother.
Idris stood next to Rieka, towering over her. “Only Vandana knows.”
“And the House?”
Dante shook his head. “It no longer exists in anything but name.”
Rieka glanced back at him. “How did it fall?”
“No empire can last forever.” Especially ones that refuse to adapt and grow. A demand that many of the families and the Houses themselves were now faced with.
“Some believe that the House will rise again. As long as Vandana’s flame continues to burn, one of her descendants walks the earth,” Idris added.
“Khalida mentioned the myth to me.”
“Not all believe the tale.” Idris gave Dante a pointed look.
Dante would have laughed. If it had been two days ago, he would have agreed. But now, after what Aadya had shown him…and Sypha. It was hard to dispute that there wasn’t an element of truth to the legend.
Rieka was proof of it. Even if she was as oblivious to her past as she appeared to be. Empires didn’t last forever, but he was going to be damn sure that he left a mark long after he departed the land of the living and turned to dust. To do that, he needed to find the tomb, and Rieka was the key. He could protect the heir and have his legacy.
“This is our shared history. Atlantis was never a place but its people. It is why we survived. But House Atlas, it was its crown jewel—it represented all that was good in us,” Idris began. He half-glanced at Dante before returning his attention back to Rieka. “This image has the power to change our history.”
If they released it to the outside world. Dante was not sure if the Houses would accept a significant change to the myth of Vandana. She’d taken the role of maiden, mother, and martyr within their society, and no other ruler came close to her position within the Atlantean hierarchy.
“Who is Vandana fighting?” Rieka took a step toward the temple. Her eyes filled with wonder and untapped excitement. “According to our history books, humans were still living in small bands of hunter-gatherer societies. And Atlantis was destroyed because of tidal waves from a volcanic disruption.”
Dante waited.
Idris sighed. “We don’t know. And we may never know if this was an actual battle or a myth.”
Click. Click.
The sound of heels broke the silence.
“Sypha, have you come for a history lesson?” Idris cheerfully asked.
They ignored the comment as they handed Rieka a small black cylinder. A flashlight. “You may want this.”
Rieka looked up, surprised, as she turned the light on. An expression of relief crossed her face. “How did you know?”
“Sypha has a knack for knowing what we need before we do,” Idris said. “And for finding places that should be kept secret.”
“It is a useful skill,” Sypha said as they turned to face Dante. “Your next appointment is due to start in thirty minutes.”
Dante had forgotten about the meeting, and it was one that he had to attend rather than send a proxy. He looked between Sypha and Idris. Rieka would be safe with the both of them, but that didn’t lessen his desire to stay. He squashed the thought before it went any further. Rieka could be wielded against him, and he would need to ensure that he was careful to keep their distance. At least in public.
Sypha smiled at him.
Damn seers.
R ieka should have been eager to spend more time with the mosaic. But all she could think about was how much she had enjoyed being around Dante—had looked for any excuse to accidentally brush up against him. Everything felt less exciting without him near her.
A distraction she couldn’t afford.
“It is beautiful.” Sypha moved to stand closer to Rieka.
Rieka turned to the Atlantean, impeccably dressed in all white. They wore a long loose white shirt with white three-quarter pants and sky-high stiletto heels. Even with the heels, Sypha barely reached Rieka’s shoulders.
Rieka turned once more to the mosaic and focused on the tiny details of the tiles. Each piece had been painstakingly painted by hand. It was a shame they had hidden it for so long. What was more terrifying to think about was that it could remain hidden until the next Jimourt if they didn’t find another entrance. The rest of the world shouldn’t forget it. The iconography of the mosaic was different from anything the Atlanteans had officially released. Vandana had always been painted as a maiden and martyr. Here, she could see the other side of the queen—evidence of the stories her mother had told her. If she closed her eyes, she could hear her mother’s awe-inspired whispers describe every part of the image. As if Lilian had seen it in person. But that was not possible.
The headache she had been fighting against all day was back with a vengeance. “How old is the Arx?”
If she could confirm its age, she might identify the link between the image and her mom. She had never realized how much of an enigma her mother had been. Lilian had never disclosed her age or the House she had descended from. As a kid, it hadn’t bothered Rieka. But now, it felt like a part of her was missing something, an answer to a question she shouldn’t need to ask.
The domed ceiling was mainly decorated by midnight-colored tiles with small white specks placed erratically to denote the stars. A replica of an ancient constellation. It was nothing like the night sky she was used to seeing, but there was something familiar about it.
Rieka glanced at her watch. It would be hours before she could access the statue in person. She was going to count down every second. Even the mosaic didn’t compare to getting her hands on the statue and seeing if their eyes matched. She didn’t know what she would do if they did. Her only family was an estranged father and a younger half sister, both of whom would not have the answers she needed.
“The original structure is eight thousand years old,” Idris explained as he walked toward them. “But, like many ancient buildings, they built it on the ruins of an older temple. We think the foundations of the building date back to thirteen thousand years ago. I’m clearly boring someone.” Idris gave Sypha an exasperated look. His eyes twinkled in mirth. “I told you, Sypha, one day you would appreciate the past.”
“I will never understand the obsession with the past. I am far more interested in the future,” Sypha said with a bright glint in their dual-colored eyes. They leaned forward as if they were revealing a secret. “And the endless possibilities.”
“Not all of us can focus on the future.”
It felt like she was only hearing a part of the conversation and not the interesting part.
Sypha looked at Rieka. “The gala begins in less than two hours.”
And? Rieka had plans, and they did not involve being surrounded by rich Atlanteans. Sypha raised a perfect blonde eyebrow. Idris appeared to be distracted by his nails.
Not likely. “Excuse me?”
Sypha took a deep breath and visibly counted to three.
It was the first time Rieka had seen the Atlantean show any emotion.
“The gala is the first official event of the Jimourt. It is the most sought invitation within Atlantean society. It is a great honor to be given this opportunity to attend.” Sypha looked over at Idris.
The silent conversation between Sypha and Idris continued. “You are still not selling it.” Nope, there was nothing she wanted to do less. Falling into an abyss filled with spiders was better than dealing with a nest of Atlanteans. There was a reason she stayed away from them. “Unless I’m allowed to wear jeans, I think we have a problem.”
Sypha smiled.
Rieka’s heart sank. She really didn’t like what it meant and knew instinctively that this was not an argument she could win.
“I came prepared.”