Deep in the Mediterranean Sea—Twenty Years Later
Chapter 1
Xanthus could taste the blood of a human in the seawater. He clenched his fists and swam faster, determined to reach his destination in time. His powerful tailfin drove him forward as he speared a path through the water.
Beams of sunlight danced over the ancient, stone road—the glow slightly dimmer than moments before. Nightfall approached. The high walls of deep ravine towered above and lined the path. Darkness seeped from the jagged rocks in the cliff walls, filling crevasses with blackness as shadows stretched across the highway. The stones on the path peaked from under the sand and silt, showing Xanthus the way to Atlantis.
Atlantis was the road’s destination, not his.
The gorge widened, opening into a clearing as the rocky walls disappeared into the darkness. Silt swirled, clouding the seawater. The sharp, mineral taste of human blood washed over his tongue—stronger and thicker. A hum of voices signaled he’d reached his destination. As he moved forward, the voices rose in volume. A roar of outrage ignited other angry voices churning in the water. Through the haze, a mob came into view.
A snarling voice pierced the sea. “Gut the human and let it watch as we feed its entrails to the sharks!”
Xanthus headed straight into the crowd, shoving his way through a sea of grey tailfins and muscled arms.
Another voice raged. “Tear it apart, piece by piece. We all deserve a souvenir. I want its scalp.”
From a distance, another voice said, “I want its heart.”
Xanthus pushed two fellow Dagonians apart and came face to face with one of the most fearsome and deadliest soldiers in the sea—Kyros Dionysius.
“Xanthus, thank the gods you’re here,” Kyros said. “Your brother’s crossed the line this time.”
“Gael? What did Gael do?”
“He pulled a human off a dock. It wasn’t even in the water!”
“I’d heard rumors...” Xanthus shook his head. “I didn’t want to believe them.”
Xanthus looked at the crowd. His older brother knew the punishment for this act—imprisonment. At least it used to be. In reality, Xanthus doubted his brother would ever see the inside of a prison cell. After the recent slaughter of Dagonians in the South Pacific, Gael would likely be hailed as a hero for this act. It didn’t matter to the Dagonians that the humans didn’t know what they’d done. The humans had no idea they even existed.
Xanthus caught sight of the air-filled sphere holding the prisoner. It rocked back and forth by the chaotic movements of the Dagonians swimming around it. Six strong soldiers held on to the ropes tethering it down and about twenty other soldiers kept the crowd at bay.
The sphere was smaller than Xanthus had expected. Dirt and blood smeared the inside, making it difficult to see in. As he moved closer, his stomach sickened when he got a look at the human. A small woman cowered in the center of her prison; tear-smeared dirt caked her battered face.
One Dagonian rushed between the solders, bared his teeth, and roared. The soldiers pulled him back as the woman screamed and scrambled against the far side of the chamber. To say she was frightened would be a gross understatement. A Dagonian mother seeing her only child in the jaws of a kraken couldn’t have been more terrified.
“Ah ha, the Nightmare of the Deep has arrived.” Gael smiled as he approached Xanthus. “So glad you could join us. Are you ready to live up to your name, brother?”
