The Atlantean Chronicles: Call of the Sea

Chapter Twenty-Two

The house in Italy -Palermo, to be exact- turned out to be one of many safe houses spread throughout the world, belonging to Atlanteans who still supported Reith and Jacin's father. A 'mini' rebellion, Kaftor had called it. Most of them had escaped when Meison first took the throne, though others had slowly managed to filter out, traveling in small groups so as not to draw too much attention within the kingdom.

Dukir, the owner of the Palermo safe-house had added that over time, many of the guards within the palace had begun to grow disdainful of Meison, becoming moles for the rebellion. Diana was surprised to hear that Hroth was among the guards feeding information to the rebellion.

Diana had stayed long for the meeting that took place moments after her arrival. She certainly hadn't taken the time to learn the names of the five others living at the house. Kaftor had silently showed her to her room and she'd been sitting on the bed for the past hour and a half, absently petting Thunder's velvety ears.

Thunder had practically tackled her to the floor when she'd first entered. That had been the only surge of joy she'd felt, seeing that goofy dog's happy, slobbery face. He was the only one she'd allowed into her room, refusing anyone who knocked on the door, by simply not acknowledging them.

At least four people had already tried talking to her, most recently, her sister. Diana's heart ached at the sound of her sister's voice, already sounding stronger than it had only hours before. Diana let that tiny bit of relief settle in her; Arielle was safe and seemed to be adjusting just fine.

Diana lay on her side, unable to sleep. She thought she'd never be more happy to see a bed in all her life. But now, lying amongst the plush pillows and down comforter, she felt as if she were drowning. The mattress felt too soft as if threatening to swallow her.

She'd been certain that the first thing she'd want to do would be to take a shower. Aside from sponge baths here and there, Meison had never allowed her to bathe properly. Now the idea of submerging herself in water, even if it were to wash away the grime and filth... it was too soon, too soon since she'd been freed -that reality hadn't even settled in with her yet. She wasn't certain how long it would be until she was able to so much as look at the ocean again - how long it would be until it no longer reminded her of what she'd endured.

Diana rolled onto her back with a disgruntled sigh, throwing her arms down at her sides like a toddler about to throw a tantrum. Thunder whimpered beside her and shuffled closer to her. His tail thumped against the fluffy comforter and his pink tongue lolled out as he began panting, looking eagerly at her.

Diana rolled her head to the side to look at him. "I think you're the only constant in my life right now," she sighed, scratching his head.

Thunder gave her hand an enthusiastic lick, his tail wagging harder. A small smile tugged at Diana's lips as she looked into the big furball's face and saw nothing but innocence and love. She wished she saw life the way dogs did, maybe then things wouldn't feel this shitty.

With a sigh, Diana sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Thunder lifted his head, studying her, the tags on his collar jingling from the movement. Diana looked over her shoulder at him. "I suppose I should at least wash up a little bit huh?" she asked.

Thunder pricked his ears and tilted his head. Diana smiled and reached over. "Good boy," she sighed, patting him on the head.

Diana was grateful that the safe house had once been a bed and breakfast, if only because it meant she had her own bathroom. She didn't think she'd manage having to so much as walk across the hall for fear of running into someone, thus being forced to interact with them. Interacting meant seeing pity flash in their eyes, or struggling to avoid talking about what was troubling her; especially when what they really should be asking is what wasn't troubling her? Either way, she didn't want to dredge up more horrible thoughts than she already did on her own time.