Шеннон Мессенджер - Keeper of the Lost Cities

“I’m sorry— what ?”

“Maybe you should go first, Dad,” Fitz suggested.

Alden nodded, gave a quick wave, and jumped. Sophie screamed.

Fitz laughed beside her. “Your turn.” He dragged her toward the edge.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” she begged as she tried—and failed—to pull away.

“It looks worse than it is,” he promised.

She gulped, staring at the maelstrom swirling beneath her. Cold, salty water sprayed her face. “You seriously expect me to jump?”

“I can push you if you’d prefer.”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“Better jump then. I’ll give you to the count of five.” He stepped toward her. “One.”

“Okay, okay.” She wanted to keep what little dignity she had left.

She took a slow, deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped off the edge, screaming the whole way down. It took her a second to realize she wasn’t drowning, and another after that to stop flailing around like an idiot. She opened her eyes and gasped.

The whirlpool formed a tunnel of air, dipping and weaving through the dark water like the craziest waterslide ever. She was actually starting to enjoy the ride when she launched out of the vortex onto an enormous sponge. It felt like being licked from head to toe by a pack of kittens—minus the kitten breath—and then the sponge sprang back, leaving her standing on a giant cushion.

Her hands froze as she smoothed her dress. “I’m not wet.”

“The sponge absorbs the water when you land . Incoming!” Alden yanked her out of the way as Fitz rocketed onto the sponge, right where she’d been standing.

She jumped off the sponge to the slightly squishy ground. It felt like packed wet sand.

“Now, this is Atlantis.” Alden gestured to the gleaming metropolis ahead of them.

Sophie’s eyes felt like they had to stretch to take it all in. The city was wrapped in a dome of air, which faded into the ocean beyond. Twisted crystal towers soared into the skyline, bathing the silver city in the soft blue glow radiating from their pointed spires. The buildings lined an intricate network of canals, interconnected by arched bridges. It reminded her of pictures she’d seen of Venice, but everything was sleek and modern and clean. Despite being at the bottom of the ocean, the air was crisp and fresh. The only clue that they were underwater was a muted hum in the background, like the sound she’d heard when she put a seashell to her ear.

“You guys build with crystal a lot,” Sophie observed as she followed Alden into the city.

Alden smiled. “Crystal stores the energy we use to power everything, and it’s cut to let precisely the right amount of light in. Of course, we had to make some changes when we moved Atlantis underwater. We plated the buildings with silver so they’d reflect the firelight we created in the spires and help illuminate the city.”

“Why did you sink Atlantis, and not the other cities?”

“We built Atlantis for humans. That’s why you know the real name of the city. A long time ago humans walked these very streets.”

Sophie looked around. Elves wandered the shops looking young and elegant. The men wore heavy velvet capes, like they belonged at a Renaissance fair, and some of the women’s gowns shifted color as they moved. Signs advertised two-for-one specials on bottled lightning or fast approval on Spyball applications. A child strolled past with some sort of hybrid chicken-lizard on a leash. No wonder humans invented crazy myths after the elves disappeared.

They reached the main canal, and Alden hailed one of the carriages floating along the water—a silver, almond-shaped boat with two rows of high-backed benches. A driver in an elbow-length green cape steered from the front bench, drawing the reins of some sort of brown creature skimming the surface of the waves.

Sophie shrieked as the eight-foot-long scorpion with deadly pincers reared against the reins. Its tail curled up, looking ready to sting. “What is that thing?”

“An eurypterid,” Alden explained. “A sea scorpion.”

“You’re not afraid, are you?” Fitz asked.

She moved farther away.

“What is it with girls?” Fitz leaned down and stroked the shiny brown shell along the eurypterid’s back. Sophie waited for the pincers to slice him in half, but the creature held still, emitting a low hissing sound, like it enjoyed being petted. “See? Harmless.”

Fitz jumped into the carriage.

Alden followed, holding the door open for her. “Quinlin’s waiting, Sophie. It’s time to find out what’s in that impenetrable mind of yours.”

E VERY FIBER OF SOPHIE’S BEING WANTEDto run far, far away from the mutant insect of doom, especially since it would take her to get probed . But she gritted her teeth and ran into the carriage, pressing her back against the bench to be as far as possible from the hideous sea scorpion.

“Where to?” the driver asked Alden with a laugh.

“Quinlin Sonden’s office, please.”

The driver shook the reins, and the giant scorpion thrashed its tail against the water, pulling them along.

“So who is this Quinlin guy anyway?” Sophie asked.

Alden smiled. “He’s the best probe I know. If anyone can slip into your brain, it’s him.”

Something about the words “slip in” gave her the heebie-jeebies. She tried to think about something else to stay calm. “Why does he work down here?” Atlantis wasn’t a bad place, but she imagined the commute would get annoying after a while.

“Atlantis is our most secure city. Anyone and anything that needs added protection is here. Including your file.”

“I have a file ?”

“A highly classified one.”

“What’s in it?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

She opened her mouth to ask another question, but Alden shook his head and pointed to the driver. She’d have to wait till they were alone.

The carriage entered some sort of business district. The streets were packed with elves, all in long black capes, and the silver buildings stood taller than the others, with round windows tracing down the sides and glowing signs bearing their names. TREASURY. REGISTRY. INTERSPECIESIAL SERVICES. But half the signs were unreadable.

“What’s with the random strings of letters?” she asked, pointing to a building with gibberish for a sign.

Alden tried to follow her gaze. “The runes?”

“Is that what these are?” She held out her wrist, running her fingers along the nonsense writing on the nexus.

Alden nodded. “That’s our ancient alphabet.”

“You can’t read it?” Fitz sounded more surprised than she would have liked. Being the clueless one was getting old—fast.

Alden stroked his chin. “But you can tell they’re letters?”

“Yeah, but it’s just a big jumble. Is that going to be a problem for school?” She held her breath. What would the other kids think if she couldn’t even read ?

“Nah, it’s rarely used,” Fitz said, and she could breathe again. “Only when they want to be fancy or something.”

She hesitated, hating that she had to ask her next question again . “Is it wrong that I can’t read them?”

“Reading should be instinctive,” Alden admitted. “But maybe your human education affected you somehow. We’ve never had anyone with your upbringing, so it’s hard to say.”

There was that word again. “Upbringing.” This giant gap between her and everyone else.

How was she ever supposed to fit in if she was the only kid who went home to her human parents every night? But what other option did she have? No way her parents would let her move here. They wouldn’t even let her move across the country to go to college.