The Pride of Atlantis                                            

                                                By Ilara Adonia Bonaparte

 

 

                                              One

            The sunrise over the small, suburb-like town of Greenville, Michigan was like any other.  The early commuters consisting of teachers, students, white-collar workers, blue-collar workers, fast-food servers, and the occasional health specialist dominated the small roadway inappropriately named Main Street.  Greenville was a sleepy little town with one hospital, two department stores, ten fast-food places, a mini-mall, and no Starbucks. 

The purplish hues of night faded away to the dominating pink and yellow of early morning, giving way to a rainbow effect that dazzled most children and a few teenagers.   

Kalika Korey, a professed fan of beauty, sat in the Physics classroom watching from the seat next to the Eastern window, contemplating the meaning of life, an old hobby.  As the teacher rattled on about how the test was either tomorrow or next Thursday, (Who really cared, thought the indignant young woman, tossing her hair) Kalika wondered why it was that such dark things as death occur in a place that can create a beautiful thing as simple as a sunrise.  Instantly, her thoughts switched back to her dream as of early morning, and her overly philosophical mind dealt with that predicament.

Her attention span was like that of a five-year old, as she could only concentrate on boring things a moment or two at a time, and interesting things she held onto only a moment or two more.  This wasn’t due to a problem with her head, but it was her personality, one that demanded the most amount of attention in whichever topic was being discussed.  To put it simply: She was a closet Prima Donna with a mild superiority complex, though she hid it well under a façade of low self-esteem.

            A note was passed to Kalika, the girl with stunning green eyes, perfect skin, and flowing honey-colored hair, from a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy in the back row via a chattering group of insignificant sophomores.  As she looked down at the drawing paper, folded neatly and with “Kalika” spelled on it in old script, she wondered if any of the Stoicism beliefs were actually in her, as her father had once told her.  She knew she overreacted a little too much for the old philosophy, due to her mother’s imprinting upon her daughters that to show emotion was not cowardly, but properly feminine.  Her younger sisters, foolish as they were, and not remembering their father, had bought into this, but Kalika had not.  She had not once cried as far back as she could remember.  This was not as much a demonstration of Stoicism, however, but of stubbornness and pride.  Her pride was her defense mechanism; her reason for doing the things she did.

            Kalika’s focus turned to the note as she slowly turned it over in her hands.  The boy in the back row was one she had never seen before, and she had noticed his dark, mysterious aura when she walked into the classroom.  She had passed him off with a quick lift of the eyebrow before sitting in her seat and opening her book on the Nixon Administration.  Unfortunately, her fate was to interact with the mysterious boy, but to what effect she would know only much later. 

            With a sigh, she turned the paper over to find an old-fashioned wax seal.  Kalika’s heart sped up, for this custom reminded her of the dream that had so deeply affected her. Her curiousity piqued, Kalika broke the seal and read, in the perfect cursive of the gentler, medieval age:

           

Meet me in the Library, after school.  Meeting Room Three. 

                                                                                                -Gareth

            Kalika slowly rolled the paper back up.  The school’s library had no meeting rooms, but the community one did.  The school was so stingy with funding that it was a shock they had a library at all.  A hasty glance backward at the boy she now knew as Gareth rendered her shocked- he was gone.

            One of the sophomore girls- a brunette with too much purple eye shadow(which made her look oddly like she had a black eye)- registered Kalika’s surprise.  She leaned forward. “He was only visiting Mr. Renauld’s class to see about the Physics teachers here.  He’s thinking of moving here.” The overly made-up girl smiled sweetly, a smile that hid the mind and heart of a vixen-he hadn’t even moved here, and she was already planning his seduction.  “What did that note say?”

            Kalika turned and looked down at it, innocent white paper gleaming.  “Nothing of consequence.” She muttered as the girl whispered to her friends. 

            Nothing of consequence, indeed.  Who was Gareth?  How did he know who she was, when she didn’t even know him?  She looked at the paper blankly, immaculate white smoothness mocking her with its perfection.  Kalika meditated a moment, then refolded the paper neatly and stuck it in her purse. 

            She stared at it a moment, half expecting something magical to happen.  Magical- the word seemed right for the whole affair.  Mystical, mysterious, magical- the three “M”s any fantasy reader knew intimately.

            Of course, one pivotal question provoked Kalika’s easily disinterested mind: What was going on?  

            And she knew that she’d have the answer soon; she always did get the answers she needed.

 

            The day passed quickly for Kalika- for her, things normally did- she just phased out into her private thoughts and stayed there until the bell rang at two-fifteen.  With a sprint to her beat-up Ford (does the model actually matter when it is a Ford?), she literally raced to the Library five minutes away.  Of course…she had a tendency to race anywhere.

            She parked awkwardly (as usual) and climbed out, nearly hitting her head on a nearby tree branch.  She swore, massaged her head, and kicked at the tree’s trunk, knowing that after years of harsh winters and hailstorms a kick from a teenage girl would hardly injure it, but wishful thinking took over.

She coolly sauntered up to the double doors, and maintained that cool until she reached Meeting Room Three, in a place Kalika took forever to find- between five and six.  Seeing no one was inside, she muttered about the architects and vowed a nasty letter as she sat down.  Her bottom had barely touched the poorly constructed cushion when the door was slowly opened and Kalika sprung back up, pushing her chair off to the side.  It hit the glass window behind her with a solid crack that may have marred it, but which she, out of principle, refused to reimburse. 

            The three men entering consisted of the dark-eyed and mysterious Gareth, as well as two other bouncer-like men.  “Men” was the appropriate word- They looked as if they could crush a child’s skull with one hand, and Kalika would have never dared call them boys, even though they had the puffy faces like that of a baby.

            Gareth was no longer dressed as he had been at school- Jeans and a t-shirt- but was instead wearing a black leather vest over a white cotton sleeveless top.  His pants were black, and Kalika expected they were leather as well.  The two big men were dressed exactly the same- brown vest, white shirt, brown pants.

            “Uh…Hi.” Kalika said, in way of greeting.

            Gareth smiled and approached the uncomfortable Kalika, and kissed her deeply on the lips, with tongue.  Kalika struggled against him for a moment, then finally flung him off, while secretly enjoying it- he was a good kisser.

Kalika, meaning to scream, “What on earth was that?” merely managed a

“WHA-“ before her mouth was covered with one of the bouncer-like men’s hand.  The other stood guard at the now-closed door, and Gareth seated himself across from where Kalika was being held hostage.

            “Hello.” Gareth said politely.  His speech, even with one word, was unbelievably over-pronounced, a trait Kalika had always hated in people.  “I asked you here to be sure of who you were…” His eyes fell on her neon pink backpack and he smiled.  “It is said that you would be beautiful and wise, but…neon pink?” 

            Kalika struggled some more against her captor, meaning to yell at Gareth for insulting pink, her favorite color, but the bouncer-like man was too strong, and Gareth was continuing.

            “You know, when I started having dreams of sunrises over a little city, and of riding in a disgusting little blue box with wheels- I presume that was your automobile? - I wondered if I was going mad…” He stood, closed the blinds of the window looking out onto the nonfiction section at Kalika’s back, and she had a sinking feeling in her stomach.  “Years of battles have been reputed to do that to a man, I have heard.  So, a year or so ago, I sent some of my…friends out to look for this little town with such beautiful sunsets and the one who drove around in a blue box.”

            Kalika, knowing she should defend her old piece-of-crap car, did not- after all, it was a piece of crap, and deserved the ridicule it was getting.

            “Then, I was notified by my aides that there is a prophecy. ”Gareth circled in front of her, taking the bouncer-man’s hand away from her mouth, and stroking her cheek.” This prophecy deals with a man that dreams of sunsets, automobiles, and the fleeting sight of a head of honey colored hair.  It is said that when he finds the one who is broadcasting her thoughts to him, and captures her love, will rule Atlantis forever-“

            Kalika snorted.  As afraid as she was, this whole idea was preposterous. ”Atlantis?  Prophecies?  Are we a little psychotic or what?”

            Gareth smiled darkly and put his hand on Kalika’s left thigh-bare, as she was wearing a skirt- as he bent forward to whisper in her ear.  “What I can give you, I know you want.  Simply let me continue.”

            Suddenly, Kalika noticed that Gareth’s loins were within her range.  With a smile, she rammed her knee between his legs.  He grunted painfully and Kalika was satisfied with the suddenness he sank to the floor.  The bouncer-man holding her withdrew a long knife that he placed against her hip, and with a gasp, Kalika froze.

            “Do not do that again.” The man said with halting English.

            Gareth recovered relatively quickly, and when he had, he smiled.  Kalika looked at him fearfully.  After a guy gets kneed, he should not smile- it was against the laws of nature.

            “Well,” He said, still smiling, “You are feisty…I like that.  Anyway.  Like I was saying…there is a prophecy speaking of a girl with a stoic as a father who lives in a Green Ville.  Of course, we later interpreted this to mean the name of the town- Greenville.” He smiled proudly.  “This did not help us much, seeing as there is a “Greenville” in every…state” He seemed unsure if “state” was the proper term, then continued when he saw she was following what he said, “of this country.  So, obviously, this did not help. 

“The same friends I sent on the special mission to find you devised a specialized tracking system, and I was hooked up to it before I slept.  It was uncomfortable, true, but at that point I needed to find out who you were.” He smiled.  “After a night of the same dreams of sunrises, a bustle of people, and such, I was awakened by the triumphant yell of my head wizard, who was heading the operation.”  Gareth leaned close to Kalika, making her uncomfortable.  “He had found that you lived in Michigan, a small, mitten-shaped place surrounded by lakes.”  He withdrew, and sat on the table, and shrugged lazily.  “After that, it was quite simple.”

            “So…you’re saying…” Kalika was very confused at all this.  Someplace in there, Kalika had heard the word, “Head Wizard”, and instantly deduced that Gareth was definitely messed up.  He was psychotic, but very handsome, and maybe with some treatment, he’d be all right in the head, and would be datable material…

            “We are destined to be lovers.”

            …Or not.  Kalika, shocked, replied, “Huh?  How do you get that?”

            “Did you not hear what I said?”

            Kalika scoffed.  “Yeah, I head it, but it all seemed like crazy talk.  Prophecies?  Wizards?  I have dreams too, but I would never, for a second, think they’re some kind of sign from the Powers That Be-“

            Gareth grabbed Kalika by the shoulders.  “I did not mention the Powers.  Where did you hear of them?”

            Kalika blinked.  She honestly didn’t know, and that troubled her.  The saying had simply come to her, and it scared her.  She normally knew exactly where her comments came from, for she had a photographic memory that she was reputed for.

            Gareth regarded her closely.  He smiled.  “Before, I was unsure.  Now…I am positive.  You are the one- it is even more obvious to me than before.”  Gareth looked at her closely.  “You look exactly like the statue in Xandretta, the Holy City of Depla...” He seemed to catch himself and he stepped back a little, but not far enough away for Kalika’s comfort.  “It is positive, now.”

            Kalika began to finally feel the fear that had been building up inside her.  “I’m no one.  I’m not a one.  I’m just me, just Kalika, a girl who is going nowhere.” She felt her adrenal glands release adrenaline into her bloodstream and knew things were bad.  She had never needed those glands, not until now. 

            Gareth saw the fear in Kalika’s eyes and sympathized, stepping away from her.  “It doesn’t matter.  It only matters that I found you, and that we need to go soon.” He looked at an old fashioned watch with a gold chain that he withdrew from his pocket.  “It’s getting on time to catch a portal, where I will show you a place of your dreams.”

            Kalika, familiar with the dreams she’d been having since she was a child, was very hesitant to see a place like that.  She knew Gareth meant the good dreams- the ones every girl thought about- becoming an actress, a rock star, having loads of money- but she connected his comment with her actual dreams, and so a tremor of fear spread from the tips of her fingers to her head and down to her toes, which gave her the strength to kick up with her legs, pushing Gareth back onto the wall and with that momentum, Kalika and the bouncer-like man was pushed through the blind-covered window. 

Glass shattered, and Kalika was sure that everyone nearby would come running, but she wasn’t going to chance it.  As the big, brown-covered bouncer-like man lay beneath her, stunned, she sprang up and found herself in a maze of magazine racks and bookshelves.  She looked from right to left, knowing that the only route to the one exit was to go past Gareth and his men, whom were already recovering and in pursuit.

Hoping that the bookshelf wouldn’t break, Kalika climbed up on one and lay on the very top, thanking God for the first time in her life for making her abnormally skinny, something she had always cursed all her life for want of an hourglass figure.  She struggled to slow her breathing to a normal rate, and, to a point, succeeded in only breathing hard and not hyperventilating.  She closed her eyes and listened to Gareth swear at the two other men.

“Damn you!  You had a knife to her abdomen and she got away!” Kalika had the odd sensation that Gareth was holding the man by his collar.  “Explain to me how you did not keep your grip on her.”

Kalika, with a sudden epiphany, realized her hip was bleeding onto the dark wood of the bookshelves, and leaking down onto the blue Berber carpet below.  With a frown, she looked at the pale skin of her stomach, and found a huge gash across it.  She gasped and moved to another part of the top of the bookshelf, several feet down, nearest to where Gareth was yelling at the men.  She could see them somewhat, now, if she turned her head the right way.  Kalika grabbed a book from below her, a biography of Einstein, opened it, and placed the pages on her bloody stomach, pressing hard.  Hoping the ink wouldn’t rub off the book and poison her, she listened intently.

“S-sir, she was cut, see?  She is hurt, we will find her-“

Kalika heard a loud slap.  “You idiot.” Gareth said angrily. “She’s my future wife, and she’s injured.  The knife was meant for scare, not for actually touching her!  You should have stabbed yourself in the fall, and then I would care much less.  Now, not only do I have to find her, I have to find her before she bleeds to death.”  Kalika could see the look of disgust on his face from where she lay.  “Go to the exits.  Both of you.  Stop her if she tries to get out, but don’t hurt her.”

Exits?  As in, plural exits?  Thought Kalika groggily.  There are several?  Kalika’s mind drifted, though she was still somewhat awake.  I’ll just lie here, She thought.  They won’t find me if I don’t move…

 

Kalika awoke with a jolt.  Thinking she was in her bed at home, she rolled over, which resulted in falling eight feet onto the floor with a loud “THUMP”.  She grunted and stumbled up, throwing the now blood-covered book of Einstein off to the side, beneath a lounge chair.  A look under her shirt revealed that her stomach had mostly clotted, but was bleeding again due to the shock of her fall.  Her expensive skirt and the shirt she herself had designed and paid a seamstress to create were ruined, which put her in a definably foul mood.  Kalika limped over to the fiction section and sat down in a lounge chair there.  A glance out the window revealed several hours had passed, and the sun was close to setting.  

            She put her head in her hands and damned her curiosity.  She wouldn’t be in this predicament if she had tossed aside that note and ignored Gareth.  Her skirt was bloody, she was tired and groggy, and was suffering from blood loss, and it was all due to her curiosity. 

            Kalika was the cat, and curiosity had tried to come in for the kill.

            She stood slowly, determined not to die in a library, of all places, and limped slowly to a place where she could see the exit.  No one stood guard there.  With a heavy sigh, Kalika made her way between the bookshelves, avoiding the computers, where some pre-teenage boys were looking at a casino website and whispering excitedly. 

            She limped slowly out of the library and unlocked the trunk of her car.  Kalika pulled out a pair of pants from a corner, put them on the left side of the trunk, and withdrew some bandaging tape and several bandaging sponges from the right corner.  She silently thanked her mother, a nurse at the hospital, for packing these for her when she had first gotten this car.  Her mother had lovingly packed these bandages under the spare tire in the right side, with one of her “Always be prepared” looks. 

Kalika first applied the sponges, holding her shirt out of the way by putting some of the bloody fabric between her teeth.  She could taste the coppery flavor of her own blood as she applied layer after layer of sponges.  She then used the tape to secure them all in place as she began to regain some strength. 

Using the coming darkness as a shield, Kalika changed slowly out of her pink skirt and beloved cream-colored shirt into a sweatshirt and pair of too-big sweatpants.  She climbed into the car and withdrew a small package of chocolate pop-tarts from her glove compartment, and munched on one, and then the other. 

            Slowly, Kalika felt her strength returning.  With a smile, she threw the silver wrapper into the backseat and put her key in the ignition, feeling the usual rush she felt whenever she heard that engine roar. 

            Kalika floored it out of the parking lot.

           

            Kalika, unlucky as she was, was stopped by a police officer only a few blocks from the library for speeding.  As she slowed and pulled off to the side, she debated whether or not to tell the man that her speeding had a very good reason behind it, or just to accept the ticket gracefully simply in order to get out of there fast.  If her blood began to seep through the sponges, and a cop saw it, she would have to do a lot of explaining.  Kalika weighed her options.  Ticketing normally took longer than a warning did, so she decided to go against her usual lie-telling code of conduct.  Kalika, assuming the flight reflex, opted for the option of telling the man the truth (well, half of it) so she could get out of there fast and go home to her comfort food and warm bed.

            A middle-aged officer approached Kalika’s car, his bulk taking up over half her rearview mirror as he boomed up to the driver’s side window.  He looked tired, with creases around his eyes and coffee stains on his shirt.  “Are you aware, miss, that you were going fifty in a thirty-five zone?”

            Kalika nodded.  “Yes, sir, I know.  But I have a very good reason for it.”

            The man sagged.  He looked like he was going to enjoy giving a ticket, so Kalika better do the pity-party thing.  “I was in the library, studying for midterms this week, and I ran into my ex-boyfriend.  We broke up a day or so ago, and he’s been sorta stalking me since.  He came up to me and started yelling and threatening to kill me, and I-“

            Kalika stopped because the officer had waved his hand and with an odd “whoosh!” there stood a handsome man in his twenties, holding a staff, dressed all in black.  He wore a cape and leather pants with a satin-like shirt that hugged his muscular chest.  Kalika, aware, her jaw was dropped, closed it quickly.  In the mood to be spiteful, since her stomach was bleeding and her body ached, she said, “I’ve seen it done before.”

            The man blinked and his forehead creased.  “What?!”

            Proud to get such reaction, Kalika tossed her head and looked bored while secretly planning an escape route from this man that gave her the same freaky vibe as Gareth had.  “Well, I’ve seen that trick.  Are you going to go back to your car and give me my ticket, or shall I just drive off?”

            “Uh…I’ll…go get the ticket.” The man said and stumbled off back to what Kalika suspected was a stolen patrol car.  With a grin, she started the engine and praised herself on her sarcastic mind.  He wasn’t a cop, and what he was she didn’t want to wait to find out.  Kalika sped off in her usual way.  A little farther on, she saw the familiar flash of red and blue in her rearview mirror.  Rolling her eyes, she slowed down and put her car in park.  A different cop, one in his thirties with graying hair and a firm body approached her door and she smiled at him.

            “Do you think I’ll fall for this again? Go return that cop car; I’m sure they’re looking for it at the station.  Go.  Shoo.”

            Shock registered in his blue eyes.  “Miss, I don’t think you understand the matter of the situation.  You were going seventy in a fifty-five zone.  I am a real police officer, and this is my car.”

            Kalika gulped and had an urge to hit herself.  “Oh.” After a pause, Kalika began to ramble.  “I’m so sorry, sir, but a little while ago, while I was trying to get away from my ex-boyfriend, I got stopped by some magician that had stolen a cop car.  He was really scary and I was afraid he’d kill me, so I was speeding to get away from him and now I was speeding to get away from both my ex and a phony cop.” Aware she made no sense, and was slightly hyperventilating, and also aware that the blood was slowly seeping into her sweatshirt, Kalika added, “I really want to go home.”

            The man looked troubled.   “A phony cop…Interesting…”

Kalika, sensing that tears would be a good way to get out of a ticket and get home ASAP, began to cry in the way only women can.  She silently apologized to her stoicism-believing father, but believed he wouldn’t mind.  After all, she was bleeding badly, and needed sleep and a bath.

            “Oh!” The officer said. He patted her head.  “I’m so sorry…uh…you can go…just don’t speed when you’re trying to get away from something.  Just…stop somewhere and lose yourself in a crowd, then find your car later.” He touched the top of her head.  “You can go, everything will be alright, I promise.”  He slowly walked back to his car and drove away.  Kalika smiled and congratulated herself.  Sometimes being Stoic was a good idea, and others, it was good to just be a girl.

           

             Kalika parked haphazardly in the driveway, knowing her mother would have to move her car in the morning to get to work, and Kalika, in her state of grogginess, did not care in the least.

            She flew through the door, through the living room, where her mother was watching a movie on Showtime, through the dining room, where her youngest sister Jenna was eating leftovers, as well as the bathroom, where her sister, Lena, was busily getting ready for a date.  Kalika went through the other door in the bathroom, a shortcut to her room.  She flopped down on her bed, across from where another sister, Lila, was painting her toenails with Kalika’s special Del Sol nail polish, which changed from one color to another in sunlight.

            Lila, perfected in the area of sensing people’s feelings, immediately knew her sister was troubled, but so would have any person, as Kalika immediately buried her face in her pillow. 

Lila closed the door to the bathroom, where Lena was busy swearing at Kalika and blaming her for ruining her hairdo.  She sat across from Kalika, her large frame taking up most of the big high-backed chair that was used for reading the books in the cluttered bookcase next to it.  Lila caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror across from the chair, and waited, looking forlornly at the dark skin she’d inherited from her mother and the small nose of her late father.  Unfortunately, she’d also inherited her mother’s problem with weight, which resulted in her large rump and thick arms.

            Kalika spoke first.  “What were you doing in my room, besides using my expensive nail polish?”

            Lila was also reputed for her honesty.  “I was going to borrow that one shirt you had custom-made by that one seamstress down the street.”

            Kalika couldn’t help but scoff.  That was still in the trunk, and hopefully she could wash it, then dye it another color, so she could still wear it…but then it wouldn’t be the immaculate, perfect white that it had been. 

            “It’s stained.  Ruined.” Kalika muttered.

            Lila made a sympathetic noise.  “You can use bleach.”

            Kalika, who’d had a bad experience with bleach and a pure silver bracelet, refused to even think that.  The use of bleach, in any case, to her, was simply…wrong.  This explained the reproaching look she gave to Lila.

            Lila smiled sadly.  “Alright, or not.  How’d you stain it?”

            Kalika rolled over onto her back, and lifted her sweatshirt in Lila’s direction.  A morbid, sadistic part of her partly enjoyed the surprised gasp that escaped her sister’s mouth.  The bandage had already bled through.

            “Oh, my God.” Coming from the mouth of Lila, a deeply religious Catholic, the use of God’s name in vain was a surprise indeed.  Kalika smirked and lowered her shirt.

            “What…what happened?”

            Kalika shrugged.  “Just your usual encounter with a psychopath and his loyal henchmen.  Nothing big.  Let me alone to sleep, and don’t tell Lena, Jenna, or Mom, alright?  Swear to me.”

            Lila, who had obviously been thinking of running immediately to their mother, sighed.  “Fine.  I swear.  But I’m going to go into Mom’s stash and get some of those big sponges…those little ones seep through too fast.  And I’m disinfecting it.”

            “Not tonight.”

            Lila sighed heavily and got up from the chair.  She took Kalika’s shoes and jeans off, leaving her in the sweatshirt and underwear, and pulled the blanket up to Kalika’s waist.  “Fine.  Not tonight.  Tomorrow, I’m waking you with disinfectant and bandages.”

            “Fine.” Kalika muttered, half asleep.

            Lila left the room and quietly shut the door.  Her mother approached her as she was heading to the refrigerator for something to drink.  Her dark, curly brown hair was in a haphazard bun, and her skin was the usual color of caramel, even though at this time of the year, most people would be pale.

            “What is wrong with Kalika?” She asked in her Northern Indian accent that had never truly been lost after years of living in Michigan suburbia.

            Lila, telling the first lie in her long history of truthfulness, replied, “She’s okay, just tired.  Don’t wake her.”

            “Are you going to Church on Sunday, and not meditating with me?”

            Lila groaned inwardly.  Her mother had supported her conversion to Catholicism, but that didn’t stop the woman from expecting she do the same Sunday morning meditation with her.  Every week, her mother asked this same question, for two years, since Lila had converted when she was fourteen.  “No, mother.” The older woman didn’t realize the sarcastic stress she put on the title, ”As usual, I am going to church.”

            “Ah.”  She replied, and moved on. 

Lila glanced at the retreating back of her mother as she pulled some anonymous soda can out of the fridge.  She shook her head and went to her room, ignoring the sounds of her mother preparing for her club night.  Her mother had participated in clubbing with her promiscuous friends every Friday since they Lila and Kalika had been children- ever since their father had died.  This action had actually spawned Lila’s two younger sisters, Lena and Jenna.

            Lila wondered if it was a strange thing for a daughter to hate her mother so.

 

            Kalika was, yet again, dreaming.  This one was alike to the others, and wasn’t very articulate in its reality.  Flashes of colors were seen, as well as a man in chains.  A flash of his face gave Kalika only enough time to think he looked somewhat familiar, and then it moved on to a flash of a house- her house.

            Kalika woke with a start and her gaze was immediately drawn outside.  She stood and went to the window.  There it was, too- a movement in the darkness.  It was swift, about the size of a man, and looked like it was heading towards the street.

            Kalika was suddenly overtaken with fatigue.  She approached her bed and plopped down, breathing hard.  She clenched her teeth and bunched her fist in the sheet.  As she was trying to recover herself, a small noise was heard outside.  Kalika’s eyes, shut in pain, then snapped wide open.  She reached under her bed for the baseball bat which she hadn’t used after she had found that girls can only play softball, and not baseball. 

            She brought it to rest on her shoulder and crept to the left of the window, ready to let it fly. 

            Kalika’s heart almost stopped when her window was slid open.  The person began to climb in, and as soon as Kalika saw a head, she let the bat fly.  It hit the person in the chest and knocked the wind out of them, and with an “UMPH!” the individual tumbled not outside, like Kalika had planned, but rolled forward, into her room.

            Kalika stepped back and switched her light on, not seeing Gareth, but a skinny girl with fiery red curly hair, blue eyes, and pale skin clutching her chest.  Kalika successfully identified her as one of Jenna’s friends.

            “What-“ Kalika started, lowering the bat.

            “Sorry!! Thought this was Jenna’s room!  Uh…Sorry!” Said the girl, stumbling out of her room via the door, this time.  Kalika lowered the bat, had only enough time to wonder why her sister had other girls sneaking into her room, when the girl burst in again.              

            “Sorry, but which one is Jenna’s?”

            Kalika shook her head.  “First on your right.”

            The girl disappeared and Kalika smiled when, with a start, she heard her mother and the man she brought home shout as a girl with fiery hair burst in on them quietly having sex.

            Kalika giggled.  She would have never done that to one of Lena or Lila’s friends, but she and Jenna were always at odds, and Kalika didn’t mind knowing that she would be in a great deal of trouble.

            Especially as it sounded like the girl had caught the two very close to finishing.

 

            “I can’t believe you.  Having a girl sneak into the house at two in the morning-“
            Jenna smirked and tossed her head of caramel hair.  She was the product of the woman in front of her as well as a Californian surfer, and had the body and hair to prove it. “At least it wasn’t a boy, like you would do, Mom.”

            “You little brat!” Her mother almost slapped her, but she then decided against it.  “I bring you into this world, I can take you out!  Do this again and I’ll prove that!” She stomped off with the lover, a Mexican man in his forties who looked very out of place in a woman’s silk robe.  Her mother slammed her bedroom door, and Jenna shook her head in surprise. 

            “You’d think something like this would result in an extensive punishment, huh, Kate?” She asked her friend.

            Kate, the girl with the fiery hair, shrugged.  “It would with my dad…”

            Jenna nodded painfully.  “Yeah.  Your dad...I would like to say anything would happen with my dad.  I keep wishing she’d give me back to him, but I guess she likes the checks or something.  I’d like it better if my dad were dead like Kalika’s and Lena’s.  Then I wouldn’t have to wonder if he cares at all…” Jenna hung her head a moment, and then stood.  “C’mon.  Let’s go to the party.  I’m in the mood to get trashed.”

 

 

Lena shook her head.  Jenna was continuously openly fighting with their mother.  They all detested the woman, in their own ways- Lila silently mocked and ridiculed her, Kalika pretended her mother was something she wasn’t or ignored her existence, Jenna was openly rebellious, and Lena…Lena did everything she asked.  This wouldn’t seem like hostility, but a lack of such, but it truly wasn’t.  Lena was a model student as well as a beauty.  She was everything her mother wanted in a daughter, and Lena knew this drove her crazy.  Having such a perfect thing as a daughter continuously drove her crazy, seeing as she would never be as smart, charming, or as beautiful as Lena- ever.  Lena took pride in proving this. 

            Jenna was the opposite of Lena, though they got along better with each other than either did with their other two sisters.  They had a common problem- they were both outcasts in a family.  They had never known Lila or Kalika’s father, because they had been conceived after his death, and thus they felt strange around their sisters and their mother.  They were a shadow of a family, which was better than Jenna and Lena were- not even part of a shadow.  They were nothing.

            Which is probably what drove Jenna- only eleven years old- to be involved with every narcotic known to man as well as every boy.  Someday, Lena knew, Jenna would regret all this, but now it was her rebellion, and Lena respected that.

            The thirteen-year old Lena had cast the thought of her date with a boy out of her mind.  But the memory slowly came back to her- the way he stared at her openly, not ashamed of staring.  He knew he was lucky to be on a date with the beautiful Lena Korey.  During the movie- which she had paid for, since he had spent his money on their dinner at McDonald’s- he had attempted to feel her up, which was quickly put down with a fierce look.  Lena had immediately stood up and walked the six blocks to a friend’s house, where Laura had told her the boy hadn’t deserved her, and commended her for her good sense in walking out of there.

            But while Lena had been in the bathroom, Laura had called up the boy and arranged a date the next night.  After an hour of listening to how wonderful this boy was, Lena had told her friend she needed to get home.  Though her curfew was eleven on Fridays, she just needed to get away, and Laura’s mother dropped her off.

            Now, Lena listened to Jenna get yelled at via the heating duct on the floor, which led directly to the living room.  She listened as Jenna told her mother it was better that a girl snuck in than a boy, and Lena laughed.  You had to give Jenna credit for guts.

            Lena cuddled into her pillow and threw one of her stuffed animals off to the side, under a chair.  Sometimes a girl needed stuffed animals, and other times she just needed her nice, fluffy pillow.  Lena went to sleep in moments, not hearing the sounds of Jenna quietly closing the door behind her as well as her mother starting again with the Mexican lover.

           

                                                          Two

            Kalika awoke in such pain that she couldn’t move from her position on the bed.  She lay there, unable to turn her head and look at the clock only a few feet away.  She estimated it was mid-morning, due to the amount of light that shone through her open window.  It was cold, almost unbearably so, but Kalika didn’t have the energy to stand up and close the window to the freezing, snow-covered outdoors. 

            So she lay there, listening to children play outside, making a snow fort.  An argument broke out on how to make the fort, and a snowball fight erupted.  There was no winner- one of the children hit another child’s mother in the back of the head, and that was the end of that. 

            Boredom settled deeply in her as she stared at the ceiling and listened outside to the children being torn away from the fort by their mothers.  Kalika began to count the tiles on the ceiling, and when she deduced this was approximately ten and a half large rectangles, she moved on to her usual hobby of thinking.

            She was considering whether or nor to yell for Lila when Lila herself burst through the door. 

            “I was wondering why, every time I walked by your door, my toes froze!  Why didn’t you shut the window?  You’ll freeze to death.”  Lila tossed a bunch of bandages and tape onto the high-backed chair, and crossed to the window.  She closed it with a slam.  “I’m guessing it was one of Jenna’s friends that did this?  One came into my room once, too, and I actually told her where Jenna’s room was, and didn’t lie.”

            Kalika sighed and watch her sister fiddle with the box of sponges and tape. “You never lie.”

            A shadow crossed Lila’s face.  “Not true.”  Adopting her usual cheerful demeanor, Lila picked up the bandages and took the blanket off her sister, and frowned.  “It’s completely bled through.  You must have lost loads of blood.” Lila looked at Kalika’s pasty white face and blue-tinged lips.  “You know, you need a hospital.”

            “Hospitals ask questions.”

            “So does Mom.”

            Kalika snorted.  “Only when she thinks the answer will please her.”

            Lila smiled resignedly.  They never talked about their mother- they both understood each other’s views on the woman.  “Well, you’ll have to tell me about it, at least.”

            Kalika closed her eyes, tired from such a short conversation.  “Just fix me.”

            Lila proceeded to do so, her skilled hands tearing away the bandages with the least amount of pain and then applying new ones to Kalika’s bloody wound.  Lila flinched when she took off the old bandage, and paused.  She looked at her sister.  “This is a knife wound…”

            Kalika merely grunted in response.

            Lila frowned as she dabbed her sister’s stomach with soap and water, then hydrogen peroxide.  The white bubbles made small colonies as Kalika gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut.  She said in a halting voice filled with pain, “Are…you…about…done?”

            Lila nodded and continued, silently.  A bruise was forming on her Kalika’s right arm, and Lila noticed a few cuts on her long, pale legs.  “Kalika…what are these from?”

            Kalika, still gritting her teeth against the stinging of the peroxide, answered, “The glass, probably.”

            Lila cast her sister a curious glance as she took a large sponge bandage out of its wrapper.  “Glass?”  She placed the sponge on Kalika and added a second on top of that just in case.      

            “Don’t ask.”

            “I already did.  No taking it back now.” Lila muttered, but didn’t pursue the subject.  She carefully placed the tape over the sponge and then around Kalika’s small midsection a few times.  “You’re not going anywhere today.  I hope you know that.”

            Kalika’s forehead creased.  “I have to work.”

            “Call in sick.”

            “I’d rather die.  I need the money.” Kalika said sternly.

            Lila lost her temper and glared at her sister, throwing the tape into the box of bandaging sponges.  “You’ll be dead by the end of the day if you go to that horrid place.”

            Kalika sighed.  “Fine.  Be that way.”

           

            Kalika ended up calling in sick to work, under the watchful eye of Lila.  She told her angry manager that she had the flu that was going around, and wouldn’t be into work that day or the next day.  Considering Kalika only worked the weekends, this greatly upset her boss, whom threatened to revoke her pay if she missed any more days of work due to illness.  After hanging up, Kalika swore at the inanimate jet-black phone.

            “She made it sound like I was continuously skipping work…”

            Lila rolled her eyes.  “You sometimes do.”

            Kalika looked at Lila incredulously.  “What is with you?  Did you actually get a spine?  You never roll your eyes.”

            Lila blushed, making her face seem like a large tomato.  “I’ve just, uh, started to like sarcasm and stuff more, I guess.”

            Kalika looked at her sister and a slow smile crept up her lips.  “It’s a boy…you don’t want him to think you’re not cool because you’re so fanatically Catholic.”

            “I’m not fanatical!” Lila nearly shouted.

            Kalika snorted derisively.  “How many seventeen-year old girls spend an hour in prayer every Wednesday, staring at this big thing holding a piece of bread?” 

            Lila narrowed her eyes and picked up the bat Kalika had dropped next to her bed the night before.  “One more word, and I swing this at your stomach.”

            Kalika knew her sign to shut up, so she did.  Lila dropped the bat.  “Alright, I do like this guy…” At Kalika’s yell of triumph, Lila continued, louder, “But he’s in a band.”

            Kalika’s eyebrows shot nearly to her hairline.  “A band?  And not school band, with wind instruments and geek stuff like that…a real band, with guitars and drums?”

            Lila nodded miserably.  Obviously, lusting after a boy was really conflicting to her religious mindset. 

            Kalika yelped and almost hurt herself in doing so.  “That is so cool!”

            Lila then refused to speak any more about it.  No matter how Kalika tried, with pouting or pretending she was angry, Lila wouldn’t tell her sister about the guy in a band that was captivating her so.  However, his name did slip, which caused Kalika a proper shock.  It was Gareth.

            “Gareth?”

            “Yes.” Said Lila, frowning.  “And I am not telling you any more, alright?  Don’t pout or anything, just say, ‘Ok, Lila.’”

            Kalika frowned.  “Ok, Lila.”

            Lila nodded.  “Good girl.” She got up from the bed, and headed towards the door.  “Sleep, alright?  Move today, and I’ll hurt you more.”

            Kalika’s curiosity was begging for attention, and Kalika obliged it.  “Wait, Lila…Does Gareth have that whole mysterious aura about him?  The tall, dark, and handsome vibe?”

            Lila shut the door, but only after answering, “Yeah.”

            Kalika shivered, colder than she had been before Lila had shut the window.  But this wasn’t out of physical cold, but out of fear for her younger sister.

           

            Lila was never much of a party animal.  However, after she’d heard Gareth sing- last week at a club not far away from Greenville- she’d been present at every practice and performance.  She was officially turning into a groupie, though she refused to wear the leather skirts and such, opting instead for her brand-name khakis and collared shirt look.  She was a goody-goody, and the other girls recognized this and detested her for it. 

            Fortunately, it also caught Gareth’s attention, and as Lila prepared for another one of his performances, she grinned idly, even after Jenna came in and ridiculed her.

            “He’s never going to notice you.” Jenna said.  She was drunk, and always was depressingly moody when this happened.

            Lila pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans she had bought the night before.  She knew, with how they looked on her, that every guy would be looking at her.  Lila smiled evilly and pulled them on after kicking Jenna out of the room. 

            “I look damn good!”  Said Lila, smirking.  “I’m too sexy for these pants, too sexy for these pants…” She hummed as she applied earth tones of brown and green as her makeup, and topping it up with letting her beautiful hair out of its usual bun behind her neck, letting it hang down.  The pants were wonderful, they hugged her thighs and hips, making both seem smaller, and making her legs seem longer.  She grinned and modeled in the mirror.

            Lila left Kalika in the care of Lena, who was binging on chocolate after hearing her friend Laura was having the best time with her date- the date Lena had ditched in favor of morality.

            Lila was picked up by one of the few groupies that was her friend, and looked forward to an exciting night.

 

            Kalika awoke to the slamming of a door a few hours after Lila had left for the party.  Kalika looked at her clock and realized she had slept more that day than she had in any other day of her life.  With a bang, Lila crashed into her room.

            “I hate you!” Lila screamed. 

            “Huh?” Kalika asked, puzzled.  She blinked against the bright light of the hallway, and shielded her eyes with her right hand. 

            Lila took a deep breath and slammed the door shut with the same energy with which she had opened it.  “I looked incredible tonight.  I knew it, everyone did.  And yes, Gareth even asked me to dance!  I was so excited!  We started dancing, and everything was going perfect.  And then…” Lila glared at her sister.  “He asked me about you.  What you’re like and such.  And I told him!”  Lila seemed to be stirring in her own anger, and she paced across Kalika’s small floor.  “I told him everything about you, what you’re like, who you hang out with, what your achievements are, and he made me promise to bring you to the practice tomorrow.  He said if I did, he’d go on a date with me.”  Lila began to sob uncontrollably.  “And I agreed.  I should have spat in his face and told him to go to hell, but I didn’t.  I agreed!  What is wrong with me?  This isn’t me!  I’m not like this!”  Lila lay down on her sister’s bed, taking up most of the bed, and making Kalika move over a little to the side.  She sobbed into her sister’s shoulder, and Kalika grunted when Lila’s elbow nudged her stomach.

            Kalika sat up slowly, with pain.  “Where is he?”

            Lila blinked away tears.  “What?”

            Kalika shimmied off the bed and pulled on a pair of khakis on her dresser.  “I asked, where is Gareth?  I’m going to tear him to pieces.”

            Lila’s mouth worked, but no sound came out.  Finally, she nodded and burrowed her head in the pillow.  “In that hotel on Lafayette Street.”

            “Across from the church?” Asked Kalika, pulling on some clogs.

            “Yeah.  And Kalika-“ Lila looked up at her sister long enough to smile wanly.  “Don’t injure his package.”

            Kalika walked out of her room and closed the door, then grabbed her coat off a chair.  She looked back at her room before going out the door.  “Actually, his package was the first thing I thought of hurting.” 

           

            The Hotel Six across from the church Lila so religiously attended was a run-down cheap place.  The fluorescent lights announcing “vacancy!” in red bold letters glowed eerily in the midnight darkness. 

Kalika hadn’t sped, amazingly, seeing as she hadn’t enough energy.  She was very slow, and she wondered if this should wait. 

            Kalika slowly got out of her car.  No, she decided, there would be no waiting.  Lila was at home crying over a boy that had captivated her so, and Kalika was in a vengeful mood on this guy.

            She groggily approached the reception desk (consisting of a pimply teenage boy watching a game show) and asked, in her most whorish voice, if Gareth was at this hotel.  Kalika winked as the boy shuffled nervously through a stack of papers nervously.  He grinned when he found the room number. 

            “’S, ah, room forty-eight, down the hall…”He winked at her.  “C’mon back here when you’re done, huh?”

            Kalika smiled seductively (even though her abdomen ached with every step, and feeling sexy was made very difficult by this) and headed down to room forty-eight, which was quite easy to find.  As she lifted her hand to knock, the door was opened by a shirtless Gareth.  He must have seen the fury in her eyes, for he smiled widely and pulled her inside the dirty hotel room with force.

            Kalika whirled at him.  “Using my sister to get to me, what a despicable-“

            Gareth poked her stomach, hard, which brought Kalika to her knees in pain.  He walked over to the cheap TV set and turned off what looked like a black-and-white version of one of Hitchcock’s old classics.  Which, Kalika couldn’t place- all those movies looked the same to her.  Kalika took several deep breaths and looked up at Gareth furiously.  “You knew that would hurt.”

            Gareth shrugged almost comically.  “Yes, and I did not intend for Xenic to injure you, but one must use certain things to his advantage.“  Xenic, Kalika supposed, was the name of the bouncer-like guy that had stabbed her.  Gareth looked down at her almost sadly.  “Seeing you in pain does not please me.”

            Kalika rolled her eyes and Gareth laughed.  “You have a sarcastic air about you that does please me.  Your sister attempted to gain that, but was unsuccessful.  I do like her pants, however.  What the other girls wear somewhat disgusts me- slut-like tops and tight pants- I rather like a girl that goes against the norm.”  He smiled sweetly at her.

            Kalika snorted and stood up, ignoring the pain in her abdomen.   “Why…”She took a deep breath as she reached her full height.  She was tired, and multicolored spots danced in front of her eyes.  “Why did you lead her on?”

            Gareth laughed as if it were obvious.  “It is prophesized, of course!  I had to, so she would tell you I was staying in this makeshift of a living space, and you would angrily stomp in here, looking for a fight.”  He looked disgustedly about the hotel room, clad in the traditional brown and orange.  Kalika noticed an orange shag carpet under her feet and an ugly brown tile adorning the small bathroom, past Gareth.  Kalika’s eyes focused on Gareth for a moment, and she glared at him with all the strength of an older sister.

            “You shouldn’t have done that.”

            “Done what?” Gareth asked, smirking.  He looked like a spoiled prince, standing there, his eyes all over her body.

            “Messed with Lila.  Jenna, I would have let you off for, and possibly even Lena.  But Lila- we came from the same two people.”  Kalika took a deep breath, preparing her body.  “I’m going to have to kick your ass now.”

            Gareth laughed again, something Kalika was beginning to hate profoundly.  “Well, if you must…” He turned, offering his butt to her, and wiggled it cheerfully.  “Kick away!”

            His laugh rang in her ears as she took a lamp from the dresser, removed the shade, and slammed the still on, shining light bulb on Gareth’s bare mid-back.  Kalika, not familiar with electricity, hoped this would electrocute him, but it merely caused Gareth to yelp in pain as he whirled and grabbed her weapon from her arm and threw it aside.  He grabbed her shoulders, looking at her fearfully.  It was Kalika’s turn to smirk.  “Bring it, boy.”

            Kalika rammed her knee into his crotch for the second time in two days.  He grabbed her around the waist and jammed his head into her stomach, making Kalika gasp in pain and back up to the wall.  Her back hit the wall hard, and her head made a cracking noise as it hit.  Some drywall was dislodged, fluttering in white flakes to the floor, past Gareth’s head, still purposefully slamming into her only weak spot of the moment, her abdomen. Every time the top of his head connected, Kalika let out a yelp of pain.

Gareth made a few noises in the back of his throat as he withdrew his right arm from Kalika’s waist and punched her stomach.  Kalika screamed and fell to her knees, tears welling around her clenched eyes. 

“I win.”

Kalika looked up angrily and she tackled him, landing a good punch on his jaw.  She ended up on top, sitting on his stomach. He grabbed her wrists and rolled over, smirking down at her.  “Again, I win.”

Kalika, determined more than anything not to lose this battle, wrestled her arm free, grabbed his crotch and squeezed- hard.  Her manicured nails did their duty and dug into the sensitive flesh through his pants.  The pained expression on his face made Kalika smirk through the tears.  She threw him off and raced for the door, only to be tackled from behind.  Gareth pinned her hands above her head, and smirked malevolently at her.  She kicked him, for the third time, in between the legs.  “You fall for that trick too many times.” Kalika muttered, her breathing fast. 

He grunted, but held her hands strongly above her head, and recovered quickly.  He used his hip bone to grind against her stomach, now bleeding profusely.  She cried out as she saw three Gareths- the world spun.

Her head ached and blackness began to cloud her vision as her right hand groped for something to hit Gareth with.  It fell on the head of a guitar, leaning against the wall next to the door.  Her hand closed around it, and she brought it around to hit Gareth in the back of the head, snapping the guitar in two.  He crumpled to the floor, and Kalika threw the guitar to the side.  Her vision was clouding over, and she fell to her knees next to Gareth, clutching her stomach.  A glance down revealed that she was bleeding in larger doses than before. 

            “Shit.” Kalika swore, before she fell to the floor, unconscious.

 

            Lila paced her sister’s room.  She had burst in at midnight, immediately after her “date” with Gareth, and it had been two hours.  Lila took several deep breaths and looked at the matter logically.

            Kalika had always been very good at jumping up to fight.  She’d always been the first one to stand up against a bully as a child, and the last one to end up on the ground, if she ever did end up on the ground at all.  She’d had an odd skill at fighting, and the Karate instructor she’d once gone to hadn’t believed her when Kalika insisted she had never had a lesson in her life.  Sometimes, her sister’s uncanny ability to fight scared Lila, but other times, it obviously came in handy. 

            Lila paced some more.  The clock read, in glowing red numbers, “2:03” and Lila stopped and glared at it.  She was seriously scared for Kalika, seeing as she was so obviously hurt and needed medical attention, but refused to see a doctor.  Kalika was odd that way- she was intelligent, but her stubbornness always outweighed logic.  In this case, she wouldn’t let her sister be hassled by a guy, and so stubbornness mixed with loyalty kicked in. 

            Lila’s heart panged at the thought of Gareth.  The glances he had thrown at her that night looked so much like an invitation, and she had wanted so badly to make it with him.  Not in a sexual way, but a romantic one- Lila didn’t want pregnancy so early in life.  Then, when the band had taken a break and the music responsibility was given over to a CD player in a corner, Gareth had asked her to dance.

            She had been so excited she’d nearly dropped her drink on his patent leather shoes.  He looked incredible, even though he was only in jeans and a black, tight-fitting T-shirt.  A slow song was playing, and Lila wondered, if, after years of prayer, God was finally answering her requests for true love.  As Gareth took her out on the floor, she had expected anything but his next question.

            “Tell me what Kalika is like.”

            Lila shut her eyes and felt the tears rise in her throat.  Even at the memory of that question, she felt the same pain in her chest.  She fell face first into her sister’s bed and punched it violently, her threats to the absent Gareth muffled by the pillow.  After this outburst, she closed her eyes and looked up at the ceiling.  She began to count the tiles, but grew bored with it, and rose again, pacing some more. 

            Lila sat on the high-backed chair, put her head in her hands, and hoped her sister was still alive.  She fell asleep like this, only moments later, unaware of the amount of trouble her sister was in. 

 

            Kalika was awakened by Gareth emphatically shaking her shoulders.  When she opened her eyes, he actually hugged her.  “I awoke and thought you were dead.  You lost a lot of blood.  I need to take you somewhere, if you will allow me.”

            Kalika’s reply was a half-annoyed, half-sleepy, “Mmph.”

            Gareth nodded as Kalika went limp in his arms.  He picked her up, feeling the burn on his back from the light bulb protest.  He ignored it as he headed out the back door, opposite of the teenager, now watching a show consisting of large amounts moaning.  Gareth ignored it and headed out the emergency exit (which he had tested earlier, to assure the alarm did not work) to a waiting van.  He cast a glare at Xenic, standing to the side with his brother, and gave Kalika to a man inside the van in an aqua colored robe held closed by a white sash.  The man took Kalika in his arms and set her on a large, makeshift bed inside the van.  Gareth stepped inside and sat, looking at Kalika.  He gazed at her until the van lurched forward and quickly reached top speed.  He then shifted his eyes to the man in the turquoise-aqua robe.

            Gareth knew the man as Harvey, an odd name for a wizard of his repute.  Harvey was going on fifty, but his light hair, clear blue eyes and unwrinkled skin made him look close to thirty.  He was famous mostly for medicinal practices as well as research into dreams, which is where he had been promoted to the prince’s head wizard, a prestigious position.  He served Gareth, the Prince of Atlantis (Oh, how he hated the title of Prince!) with loyalty born out of greed.

Gareth paid the man well for his wizarding services, and upon the finding of Kalika, he had been promised a great reward.  Gareth could tell the man looked forward to bring the reward home to his wife, a famous socialite. 

            Harvey bent over Kalika and folded the bottom of her shirt up to her chest, allowing Gareth a view of her small breasts.  Harvey pulled off the blood-soaked sponge carefully, gritting his teeth.  He inspected the wound and curled his lip.  “Someone used peroxide on this.  I hate the smell of peroxide.  Why can’t they get some wizards themselves, and use the usual disinfectant of dragon’s blood mixed with troll innards?” 

            Gareth tore his gaze from Kalika’s chest and looked amusingly at the wizard.  “Maybe because there is no magic outside Atlantis.  You think?”

            Harvey ignored this comment and withdrew a green colored bottle with pinkish colored liquid inside from inside his robe, and poured it on Kalika’s wound.  She moaned a little as it steamed and smoked, which made Gareth freeze.  Harvey regarded him, smiling a little.  “Don’t worry.  Once an unconscious person smells this blasted steam, they’re out for hours.”  He waved a bit away from his face and coughed.  “Just don’t fall asleep for a bit, until it dissipates.  Then I’ll have to deal with a sleeping prince and soon-to-be princess.  Seems like definite non-fun to me.”

            Gareth smiled wanly as he pulled on a black silk shirt he had left in the van for this occasion.  He gritted his teeth and hissed as the shirt touched his mid-back.  His crotch ached still, and he shifted his sitting position to allow more comfort.  Harvey looked at him quizzically.  “I’ve just got this thing on my back-“

            Harvey was already moving across Kalika and in front of Gareth.  He obviously wanted to earn his payment.  “Let me see.” 

            Gareth shrugged and pulled his shirt half way off.  Harvey leaned in and inspected it, and Gareth loudly shouted when he felt a spasm of pain.  “What was that?”

            “I just pulled out a bit of glass.”  Harvey handed it to him and went back to Kalika.  “You’ll live.  I’ll apply some ointment to it when we’re back at the palace, but for now, I only have enough for her.”  He said, nodding to Kalika and withdrawing another bottle from his robe. 

            “That is quite alright, Harvey.”  Gareth looked at the glass shard and shook his head disbelievingly.  “Can you believe she swung a lamp at me?”

            Harvey snickered as he spread yellow colored gel onto Kalika’s abdomen.  When he was finished, he pulled her shirt back over it and sat back.  “The prophecy said she would be strong willed.”

            “I thought it was just a metaphor…” Gareth said, looking at Kalika’s closed eyes and passive face.  “She is beautiful when she sleeps.”

            Harvey looked out the tinted window.  “Most women are.  Then they wake up, and that ruins everything.”

            Gareth laughed.  “Not for her.  Well…besides the obvious violence towards me, which had its reasons.”  He sobered quickly.  “She’s very loyal to her sisters.”

            “Sisters, eh?  Well, so far I don’t see anything the prophecy hasn’t…”Harvey searched for a word, then, when he didn’t find one, went for the obvious.  “Prophesized.”

            Gareth nodded, watching the scenery of southern Michigan speed by.  He suspected they were getting close to the portal point, just as Harvey muttered, “How long until we get to the portal?  Doesn’t it close soon?”

            Gareth nodded.  “Yes- in half an hour.  We will be long gone, then.  We are close to it.”

            Harvey smiled.  “Good.  I am tired of this place- I actually miss Xandretta, busy place it is, with all those Dark Riders running around crazily.  They’ve been everywhere these days- frantic and excited about something.”

            Gareth nodded.  “They’ve allied with the Zulai.  I offered them a big budget as well as bases in every city in Depla, but no- they want to ally themselves with the Zulai because it’s a ‘Just cause’.”  Gareth shook his head.  “They’re an already-dead culture that is too stupid to surrender.  They can’t even feed their own people.”

            Harvey, who had been listening quietly, muttered to himself, “Mostly because they are hiding in the swamps, from your armies, and can’t farm…”

            Gareth didn’t hear this, and he continued.  “The Dark Riders won’t be much trouble- I’ve put a price on the whole of the membership.  Every Depla citizen that brings in one Dark Rider, alive, gets fifty gold coins.  Two, they get a hundred, and for three, they get two hundred, as a bonus.”  Gareth laughed jovially.  “One man even brought in his daughter and her two best friends, saying they were Dark Riders.  They turned out just to be very rebellious.  Other than that, there’s been nothing.” 

            “What do you give them for a dead Dark Rider?”  Asked Harvey out of curiosity.

            Gareth laughed.  “What use do I have for a dead one?  You can’t torture the whereabouts of the others out of a dead Dark Rider.”

            Harvey offered a fake smile, glad that the van was slowing.  The prince was reputed for his cruelty, but mostly due to his tactics on the battlefield of taking no prisoners.  He was an insolent young man most of the time, but other times he could be halfway decent. 

            Harvey watched as Gareth stared openly at Kalika’s face, and he immediately felt fear for the girl.  Gareth was a monster- and the prophecies said she would marry him.  Suddenly, Harvey wished he could help her escape from Gareth, and he realized, he could.  One of the secrets of the wizardhood was that prophecies aren’t always exact or approximate, and that most things that were prophesized would never have happened if the object of the prophecies didn’t do what was prophecized out of an obligation to fulfill it.  It was a complex thing that even Harvey didn’t understand sometimes.  The whole idea was a well-kept secret because all the people of Atlantis were strong believers in prophecy, and when you prove something that is so furiously believed in wrong, chaos ensues.

            And it was the agreement of the entire Wizard Community that chaos was not the proper way to go about things, not even for the sake of logic.  Big Surprise, there.

With the suave finesse of a true wizard, he slipped a vial of wakening potion out of his robe, and, while Gareth climbed out of the van- first, as is the proper tradition for a prince- Harvey opened the girl’s mouth and poured the potion down her throat.  He threw the vial aside, and handed her to Gareth, who looked at her with all the love that can be shown in the eyes of a butcher of hundreds of people.

Harvey watched Kalika closely as he climbed out of the van.  He wasn’t sure if the potion would override the sleeping component in the steam from the disinfectant, but he was partially sure she would recover within a few minutes. 

            The night was cold, colder than Harvey ever remembering it being in the island of Atlantis, even in the mountains, where he grew up studying wizardry.  White flakes of snow littered the ground in large amounts, and even more fell.  Harvey began to fall behind, his age beginning to wear on him.  He yelled up for Gareth to keep Kalika warm, seeing as the healing solvent he put on her didn’t work in extreme cold.  Gareth didn’t reply back, which made sense, because the sleeping beauty had suddenly awakened.

           

Kalika awoke to see Gareth was carrying her.  She felt rejuvenated and completely awake, and she had no doubt she could easily run five miles and not feel winded at the end.  As she awoke, there was one second between the realization that she was being carried, the fact that it was Gareth, and that she was really, really, really cold, before she screamed.

            Gareth reacted like someone had just slapped him, and immediately dropped Kalika.  When she had twisted into a sitting position, Kalika launched a kick at his chest with such strength she surprised herself.  When he fell flat on his butt, Kalika turned and ran. 

            Kalika, wondering immediately what they had been bringing her toward, ran in that direction.  After a few minutes of running and following a pine-needle-made path, she halted as she saw a pinkish glow up ahead.  She halted and looked behind her, knowing there hadn’t been anyone behind her even when she began her frantic race, but feeling apprehensive anyway.  She turned back to the pinkish glow, and slowly approached it, wary of what she would see.  When she reached the end of the path, and the trees no longer blocked her way, Kalika gasped and her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. 

            Her eyes had fallen first on the stone steps leading upwards, then an intricate pattern on the steps themselves, amazingly well maintained, considering they were stone, and had most likely been there for centuries.  Then, she saw what had caused the pink light- a pink portal with swirls of white, red, and orange in it, the kind she had only seen on shows on the Sci-Fi channel.  It was intricately beautiful, with little bolts of electricity waving inside and outside the portal in elaborate patterns.  It made the trees look a pinkish color, as well as the snow-covered ground and Kalika’s pale skin.  She stretched out her arms, a smile on her lips.  Even the sky looked tinged a little pink from this angle, and Kalika smiled- after all, pink was her favorite color.

            She advanced slowly to the portal, and took a rock from the ground.  When she was five feet away, she threw the rock into the portal.  The rock disappeared inside, and Kalika advanced a little farther.  She stretched out her hand and slowly pushed it through, feeling the silkiness of the portal, and the way it melded around her hand.  When she pulled her hand back out, it was still intact, with the proper amount of skin and hair still attached. 

A sound behind her made Kalika jump, and she realized they were gaining on her.  A jolt of realization led her to believe that they would most likely look everywhere but in the portal, for that was the most obvious place she shouldn’t go.  Kalika looked between the path and the portal for a moment, and then, with a burst of courage, closed her eyes and stepped through the silkiness of the portal.

After a moment, Kalika slowly opened her eyes, wondering what had happened, seeing as she felt no sudden rush of speed or a sensation of falling.  In all the TV shows or movies with portals, it would show the people going through the portal, then a bunch of special effects to show the distance traveled.

As Kalika slowly opened her eyes to the world beyond the portal, she almost stepped backwards.  There had been no rush, no feeling of dropping.  It was instantaneous, the portal was, and Kalika had instantly been transported to a place that shocked her to the bone.

She nearly fainted with what her eyes beheld.

 

                                   

 

 

 

                                    Three

It was amazing.  Kalika had stepped into an entire new world, a world of pure white limestone and tall statues of people made of the same material.  The sun, governing from its position high in the sky, shone brightly down on the limestone, making the task of looking straight at the buildings very difficult.  There were little carts lined along the narrow street, selling bread, fish, and some herbs Kalika could smell from where she stood, fifty yards away.  There were very few wood structures besides the small carts, but there was a small shanty of wood in the corner of her vision, surrounded by soldiers.  Kalika looked straight at them for a moment, and one glanced at her.  He did a double take, and his jaw dropped wide open.  He rushed inside the wood structure faster than Kalika could furrow her brow in confusion.

Groups of people dressed in medieval-type clothing went about their business, not seeing the teenage girl who had just stepped through a glowing portal of pink.  Kalika, in her jeans and sweatshirt, felt very out of place.  She pulled off her sweatshirt to reveal a light blue spaghetti-strap top, throwing the sweatshirt aside, behind the portal.  Kalika realized that her entrance would not be a big deal to these people when she edged away from the portal she had come through, and looked behind it.

A dozen portals of every color glowed.  A person carrying a cart or large bag on their back would step out of one frequently, and would move to one of the carts on the street, laying their burden down and talking with the vender.  A few portals even closed immediately after someone stepped out, making a sucking noise as it collapsed in on itself. 

She stepped cautiously toward the street, unsure of where to go, when the soldiers she had seen before headed toward her.  They were headed by the one she had made eye contact with before, as well as a tired-looking old man.  However, his tiredness was evident only by the bags under his eyes, for when he had seen her, he had snapped wide-awake.  The group was heading towards her from the right, and Kalika figured she could make a break for the street and lose herself in the crowd.  She tossed this thought aside- there was no reason for her to run, considering the men weren’t even brandishing any weapons.  She allowed them to approach her.

“Hi.” She said, smiling charmingly. 

The men merely looked at her, as well as their commander.  Kalika put her hands on her hips just as one of the men looked behind her and sank to his knees.  The others followed, and a laugh was heard behind Kalika, just in front of the portal. 

“Kalika, my dear, how unpredictable of you!”  Gareth said jovially.  Kalika slowly turned to look at him.  Xenic and his brother flanked him, and a gray-haired man stood aside, gazing at her sadly.  Kalika smiled playfully at Gareth, and, with a burst of speed, she bolted to the street.

She could hear Gareth yelling behind her, telling the soldiers to get her and bring her back, but she didn’t care.  She burst into the bustling crowd and ducked low, crouching as she ran.  She grabbed a piece of red, scratchy, and heavy cloth from one of the vendor’s stands, and threw it over her head, masking her light hair.  She moved quickly, dodging between walking citizens and children, and finally she was several hundred yards from her starting point.  She climbed a lamp post and looked towards the portals, their green, pink, red, blue, silver, aqua, white, and yellow colors blending in to make an awesome sight.  Her eyes fell on the soldiers, whom were only a few feet from the beginning of the crowd, yelling at people to get out of their way.  She smiled and watched as Gareth smacked one of them over his head.  Gareth then shouted, loudly, “King!  Get out of the way of the King!”

And, to Kalika’s immense dismay, the crowd parted and watched as their Prince ran to catch up with Kalika.  The two’s eyes met, and Kalika jumped down from her lamppost, crouched, and ran.  She ran until she was past the crowd and in a large square that was completely empty, save for some piles of trash.  She looked around for a moment, saw no place to hide, and continued to run. 

As she ran, Kalika thought about her predicament.  Where she was, she didn’t know- but what about when?  What if those portals were some kind of time disruptor as well as transportation?  It made sense- the people could travel in and out of them, from place to place, as well as time to time.  Considering all the people around her wore clothing from the middle ages, she didn’t doubt it, until she saw a McDonald’s.  She stopped in front of it and her mouth hung open.  It was the fast food restaurant; alright- no one could mistake those double arches.  There were children inside, clad in dark wool, playing and eating cheeseburgers and fries under the watchful eyes of their leather-clad parents.

Kalika wondered where the hell she was, and scrapped her idea about a time continuum.  She heard the sound of Gareth yelling not far behind, and launched again into her frantic sprint.

After several minutes of running frantically and dodging various people, she finally collapsed on the steps of another limestone building.  Her arm around her stomach, she took several wheezing breaths and began to sob uncontrollably. 

Kalika, in that moment, realized she was no Stoic.  She was just a girl, a girl that could never have any hope of holding in such feelings of helplessness.  She curled up and sobbed there, in full view of a crowd of people that ignored the crying girl with the honey-colored hair.

            Her shoulders shook and her head ached after she was done.  Her stomach didn’t bother her in the least, but she didn’t look at it for fear of what she would see.  Kalika had felt the wizard put that potion on her stomach, and then she had fallen back to sleep.  She had been awake a little, listening to the two talk, but had then lost the battle with drowsiness.  Of course, curiosity won over, and she lifted up her shirt.  There was nothing there, save for a light pink scar which was quickly fading.  Kalika began to hyperventilate, but she stopped herself.  Her wound was completely healed, something that simply wasn’t possible.

She put her head in her hands and realized she should have stayed away from the portal, and simply have ran through the forest.  It would have been wiser, and maybe she could have gotten back to her car and driven out of the country.  Kalika, whom had never felt she could be beaten, felt beaten.  She wiped the tears from her face and looked around concernedly.   

Kalika looked at the people passing by with moderate interest.  They were dressed in leather or wool.  She even spotted a man with many jewels wearing a silk shirt and pants, with a bunch of servants surrounding him.  He was an exception, however, most people were wearing the rough cloth of wool or dark leather of black or brown.  Slowly, Kalika stood and turned to see the building whose steps she was sitting on. 

It, like the buildings around it, was made of white limestone.  However, it was different- it had designs all over it, and inserts of gold and silver in the ornate motif.  She slowly ascended the steps while her eyes roamed all over the building. 

Its beauty astounded her- it had an amazing way of catching your eye while repelling it at the same time.  It was so beautiful, she felt like she wasn’t worthy to view it.  She stepped forward and through the threshold, eager to see the inside. 

A bald man was standing just inside.  He offered her a piece of bread, which she took.  The man barely looked at her, but motioned she take the red cloth off of her head.  Feeling she was safe, she did so, and placed the cloth around her neck, like a scarf.  Then, just as she had passed the man, he grabbed her shoulder from behind and looked at her with wide eyes.  He gasped and stood, looking at her for a moment, then ran off in another direction, yelling something about the promised one.  Kalika, figuring that was the strange tradition of this place, shrugged and moved on, eyes roving everywhere.

It was bright inside, amazingly so, since there were no windows, stained or normal.  The light, it seemed, glowed from the ceiling, though she could see no light appendages of any kind.  There were columns adorning the aisle leading to a statue several yards away.  Along these columns were designs and pictures that seemed to dance with the changing of the light.  The light did change; somehow…it grew lighter, then darker, allowing the designs on the walls, floor, and columns to dance with an unearthly demeanor.

Was she on Earth?  Things felt different here…she didn’t know how to describe it, but something within herself felt something very odd and supernatural.  It was like the feeling one gets when they are afraid- the hairs on the back of Kalika’s neck were standing straight up, and a tingling sensation spread from her head to her feet.  She looked around, wondering if she were on another planet, but cast this aside- the people had spoken her language- if she weren’t on Earth, the possibility of that happening was very small.  Also, the gravity was the same, and it was astrological knowledge that gravity is different on every planet.  So, Kalika took several deep breaths and ignored the way her hairs stood up, and the impulse to turn around and never stop running.

She advanced toward the statue of white limestone, crowned with a gold tiara.  As Kalika got closer, she realized how large the statue was; what she originally thought was a few feet tall, and on a risen podium, turned out to be exactly her height.              There had been a lot of work put into it, and the clothes even fell exactly like it would on a normal woman.  The dress- consisting of a corset and a straight skirt with slits to mid-thigh not found in the medieval times- was decorated with a ruby overlay, giving it a shining red appearance.  Kalika’s eyes wandered from the small feet to the small waist, to the face of the statue.  Here, she froze. 

Kalika, familiar with her own face after looking in the mirror every day of her life, stood shocked, looking at the statue that was an exact replica of herself.  Her nose was exactly like that, with its pointedness and small size, her cheekbones stood out like that- a little too much, and giving her a too-thin appearance- and her eyes were exactly that almond shape. 

Kalika hadn’t realized she was hyperventilating until then, and with a strength born of resolve, she calmed herself.  She slowly stepped closer to the statue, and with a slowness born of absolute shock, she looked down at the inscription just below those feet that were the same annoying smallness as her own.  Kalika nearly fainted with what it read- “’She who destroys’, the prophesized one who will rule all Atlantis.”

Kalika, familiar with her mother and her Northern India roots, knew the name “Kalika” meant “She who destroys”.  Her mother had named her this only a few hours after she had gone through an immensely difficult labor, and had been in a morbid mood.

“Excellent craftsmanship, is it not?” Kalika jumped and she looked immediately to where she had heard this voice, to her left.  She immediately backed away from the statue, to the right.  She stopped backing away when she realized that he wasn’t threatening at all- he didn’t have a weapon anywhere on him.

He was handsome, and about Kalika’s age.  He looked a lot like Gareth, with the long nose, dark hair and eyes.  His build was different, however- while Gareth was tall and muscular, this man was tall and lanky.  He was handsome in an odd way, and Kalika watched him warily as he knelt before the statue.  He looked up at her, stood, and offered his hand.  “Personally, I think the flesh looks a lot better than the statue.  Hopefully, however, people won’t kneel to you.  You’d get an awfully big head.”

Kalika looked at him oddly.  “Who are you?”

He smiled.  “High Priest of Depla, Romulus Scipio.  My brother is the Prince  that is so frantically looking for you.  Oh,” He said, flinching, “I forgot…He’s King now…well, he’s still called the Prince, anyway.  Trial period and all that.  If he does a poor job of ruling, he can be ousted easier as a ‘Prince’ than if we call him the ‘King’”  Kalika whirled to face the exits.  “That would be a bad idea, since he is right outside.”  Kalika turned back to him, suspiciously glaring. 

“Why is a Prince a High Priest?” She asked, scrutinizing him from head to toe, from his white robe held shut by a scarlet sash to his sandal-clad feet. 

Romulus shrugged.  “It’s a tradition.  When two sons are born, the firstborn obviously gets the military experience he’ll need for ruling.  The other is given over to be religious, and if he excels, automatically gets the highest position in the religious order, High Priest of Xandretta.”      

“Why not High Priest of…Depla?  Is that the name of this country?”  Kalika felt safe around this man, like he was one of the few people she could trust in this strange world.

Romulus nodded.  “Yes, but the center of the religion is here, in Xandretta.  No where else can you find the actual statue of ‘She who destroys’.”  Romulus smiled kindly as Kalika sighed. 

Kalika, her curiosity her usual fuel, asked, “What kind of religion is this?  I mean, if you worship a statue of me…” Kalika paused fearfully.  “Am I a god to them?”

Romulus smiled and shook his head.  “No.  You embody the glory of Depla, of what is to come and of what these people want.  Your prophecy stands for, as these people see it, peace, wealth, and happiness.  You are much like the myth of Arthur.  They don’t worship you, but the prophecy that prophesized you.” Kalika nodded slowly, showing she somewhat understood.

“Good.” Said Romulus.  “Now, I need you to know something.” He took a deep breath.  “They’ll tell you that you have no choice in this matter, simply because it is prophecy.  They will tell you that there is no free choice.  But a well-kept secret in my own and the wizard order is that prophecies are just that- prophecy.  Only the person makes them true.  The future can’t be predicted perfectly, for there are multiple roads fate can take on its journey to the future.”  A loud banging sound was heard near the doors through which Kalika had entered the temple.  She turned back to Romulus, who sighed.  “I’m sorry- but I have to do this.”

From inside his robe he removed a vial that he unplugged and waved under her nose.  Kalika then fell to the floor in a deep sleep.  Romulus looked at the sleeping beauty as Gareth approached.  “Ah!  My brother, thank you for doing that- made things much simpler!”  Gareth picked up Kalika and threw a bag of silver at his brother.  “Go buy yourself something nice.”

Romulus only narrowed his eyes when Gareth’s back was turned.  The group following Gareth trailed him out, save for the wizard, who looked disappointed.  However, at the look of encouragement Romulus sent at him, he smiled slightly and followed Gareth out.

Romulus slowly bent and took the bag of silver.  Gareth enjoyed insulting him like that- as the High Priest he made far too much money- merely because he knew Romulus rather detested him.  The two had hated each other as children simply because they were so different- Gareth was ambitious and moody, while Romulus had always been down-to-earth and compassionate.  It was, as Romulus saw it, a good thing he hadn’t been the firstborn. 

Romulus made his way to his large apartment on the top of the temple itself, and set the silver next to a pile of other valuables- gold plates, goblets, and silverware-of which were going to go to the needy. 

The needy, in Romulus’ opinion, weren’t always the poor.  Half the time, the needy were the people who were fighting against his brother.

Which was exactly where all the gold and silver would go.

 

            Kalika awoke slowly, and as she did, she had the good sense to keep her eyes shut.  Gareth was talking to someone else quietly. 

            “When will she wake up?”  He whispered

            “Very soon, I suspect.”  Said the wizard, Harvey, in his normal volume.  He knew, by Kalika’s breathing, that she was very much awake.  “I do not think she will enjoy seeing you here, sir…perhaps you should speak to her tomorrow, when she hasn’t spent the entire day running from you?  I’ll let the kitchens know to send something up in the morning, and then perhaps you can visit her around midday.”  As Gareth was about to protest, Harvey added, “I will leave as well.  In her current condition of enmity towards anyone of Atlantean origin, I suggest that we clear the room of everything but the cleaning robots.”

            Gareth slowly nodded.  “Very well.  I can see your point.”  He bent over and kissed Kalika on her forehead, and she struggled to keep her face passive.  “I will miss you, my sleeping darling.” 

            As soon as Gareth closed the door, Harvey laughed.  “Good act, I must say.  But I do believe I saw your lip curl a little bit, which I do not blame you for.”  When Kalika didn’t move, he shook his head.  “Come on, child.  I am old and decrepit and I won’t tell Gareth of you being awake while he left.”

            Kalika opened her left eye, then her right.  She slowly sat up.  “Thanks.  Who are you?”            She took in the room, which was about half the size of a football field.  It was beautiful with mahogany trim everywhere as well as smooth, shiny mahogany drawers, tables and antique furniture.

            “I’m Harvey- Gareth’s Head Wizard.  A good position, but it involves, to my dismay, too much travel.” Harvey offered her his hand, and she slowly took it and shook it.  “I helped Gareth find you, but now I will admit I rather regret it.  I tried to help you get away from him with the wakening potion I gave you in the van.  I had hoped you would not run into the portal, however…” He glanced at her surprised expression.  “Just because I serve that brat of a prince does not mean I am as evil a man as he can be.”

            Kalika slowly nodded.  “I’m getting that.”

            Harvey stood slowly, arms on his arthritic knees.  “Ah, the joys of being a wizard- when you use magic too much in your youth you get arthritis in your old age!  Now, to go home to Pernelle and have her make me a batch of her famous herb concoction for my joints.”  He slowly moved off, and as he was at the door, Kalika yelped.

            Harvey turned around.  “Yes?”

            “I’m, er…” She gulped.  “Naked.”

            Harvey nodded.  “Unfortunately for you, the prince likes to see naked, sleeping women as well as bloody battles.”  At Kalika’s gasp of surprise, Harvey grinned evilly.  “The clothes are in the wardrobe to your left.”  As he was about to close the door, he looked back in and added playfully, “You have very nice breasts.”

            Kalika threw the lamp on the night table at the door, but he had already closed it.  All the light came from the ceiling, which brightened from a mere small amount to a great deal of light as soon as she stood.  It was, she realized, entirely automated.  She crossed to the ornate wardrobe, which was a chestnut brown with red knobs as handles.  She opened it with a flourish, and looked in.

            “Holy…” Kalika said, her jaw dropping. 

            There were corsets, skirts, dresses, ornate dinner gowns, blouses, and pants of every color ever imaginable to mankind, and other colors that she didn’t even know existed.  There was one gown that was a pale pink in the light, but in the shade of the wardrobe it was a glassy silver.  She spent the better part of the evening sifting through the wardrobe.  When she was finished with that, and had a long, white shirt on that went to her knees, she moved on to a large dresser.  On it, were large jewelry cases made of the same mahogany of the dresser.  Kalika opened one and nearly died with feminine shock.

            Diamonds.  Loads of them, as well as rubies, pearls, sapphires, emeralds, and more, fell haphazardly across one another in the small, cluttered box.  Kalika’s mouth fell to the floor as she opened all the jewelry cases, each with more and more gems.  Her eyes fell on the drawers below, and she opened them each to find even more multitudes of wealth. 

            In the first drawer lay multitudes of crowns and tiaras of different sizes with designs of different levels of complexity.  She tried on several tiaras, her favorite being one of the simpler ones- a silver tiara with pinkish gems and rubies.  This one she set atop the dresser.  The second drawer was filled with loads of panties of different colors and designs.  Someone must have found out about her vague obsession with pretty underwear.  Kalika looked to the sky and mouthed, “Thank you!” And she wriggled into a pink lacy pair.  The last drawer was empty, but it didn’t matter- Kalika had what she needed- a proper outfit to sleep in.

            Kalika then fell asleep, feeling oddly at home and happy in a country thousands of miles from Greenville.

 

            Kalika was awakened by a scratching noise at the double doors.  She rose and crossed to them, looking through the small peephole.  Seeing nothing there, but still hearing the scratching noise, she opened the door and looked out, only to step back and gasp in surprise.

            A smooth, metallic object that rose to Kalika’s mid-thigh toddled in on silver wheels.  It set a tray of food- toast, with what looked like cherry jam all over them, orange juice, and scrambled eggs, along with silverware on the coffee table nearest to the double doors.  She looked from the food to the robot-thing, and she sat down at the couch behind the coffee table, and took the food towards herself.  She ate slowly, watching the robot zoom around, vacuuming, dusting, and shining the mahogany furniture.  She had to stop it from putting the tiara back in the drawer, as she wanted to try it on with some jewelry and didn’t want to go looking for it again.  The robot then whizzed on, and when Kalika finished her breakfast, she approached it, wondering if it could speak.

            “Uh…Where is the shower?”

            The robot whirled and pointed one of its appendages behind Kalika, beyond a small conference table and another large couch, to a door.  “Uh, thanks.”  She said, walking towards it.  She halted and turned back.  “How can a culture like this one create robots but not cars or anything else?”

            The robot whirred and replied in a mechanical, harsh voice, “Automobiles are prohibited from Atlantis.  The atmosphere must be continuously the same, and no unnatural smoke is allowed.  This is due to the magical pockets that shrink in size .05% every year.  This is to maintain the atmospheric normality, and keep the magical pockets for sake of having the usual amount of wizards.”  Then, the robot continued its cleaning, thinking it had answered the question.

            “Oh.  Okay then.” Kalika said, and headed towards the shower. 

            Kalika was almost to the shower when she heard a knock at the door.  Figuring the robot wouldn’t get it, she opened the door instead.  A lanky young boy with sandy blond hair of about twelve looked up at her in awe.  “You are Kalika?” 

            Kalika nodded in response.  “I am.  Why?”

            The boy smiled shyly.  “I bear a message.  Queen Mother Ilonka, Prince-er, King Gareth and Prince Romulus welcome you to the noble kingdom of Depla.  Tonight at sundown, they will hold a banquet in your honor, and wish you to be there.  They will send you proper attire for the occasion-“

            “Wait,” Said Kalika, confused.  “I hate to interrupt, but there’s enough clothes in the wardrobe now, can’t I just choose something out of there?”

            The boy shook his head.  “No, They will send you attire.” He paused to see if she would respond before continuing.  “Prince Gareth will meet you at noon with the intention to show you around Xandretta in order apologize for his past behavior.” Kalika smirked at this.  “He will introduce you to the people tonight, and he asks that you prepare a speech.”

            “What?” Kalika snapped.  “A speech?  I can’t give a speech!”

            The boy looked at her, shocked.  “Ma’am, he said you had to, and what Gareth says must be done.” He paused and looked at her face, deep in thought.  “Miss, may I have your leave to go?”

            “Huh?  Uh, sure.”  Kalika said, and watched the retreating back of the boy.  She was busy wondering what Gareth would do to her if she didn’t give a speech.  She smirked and shut the door, then headed to the shower.  Well, she would just have to find out.

                       

            After several tries of distracting the robot from its programmed job, Kalika finally began to get information out of it.  Asking the robot to explain what the connection was between Zulai and Depla, it answered, “Zulai and Depla have been at war since Prince Gareth’s father ascended into complete military power at the age of fifteen.  King Alec Scipio was the illegitimate child of the Zulai King and Queen Darla of Depla.  King Alec killed his mother, Darla, and then ordered the armies to push the Zulai border back to the Aqua River, which is, in fact, their opposite border.  In saying this, the King meant to take over all of Zulai, which has been nearly accomplished by his son, Gareth, even though Alec himself was never truly successful at it.”           

            Kalika tried on a combination of a pearl necklace and diamond earrings, then stuck out her tongue and looked for some more jewelry to try on.  “Is Alec dead?”

            The robot made an odd movement with its head, and answered, “The King died when Prince Gareth was five, approximately seventeen years, thrity-five days, six hours-“

            Kalika held her hand up, which silenced the robot.  She rather liked everyone doing whatever she said.  “Thanks, I get the idea.  What are the Dark Riders, then?”

            “Dark Riders.  Term given to the bunch of wizards, commoners, and seers that banded together in 1940 A.D. to end corruption in all of Atlantis.  They are powerful equestrians and fighters.  Most often they favor valkyrie bases for training.” The robot, knowing she probably wasn’t done, waited.

            Kalika turned and looked to the robot quizzically.  “Valkyries?”

            “Valkyries.  Norse mythology.  Emigrated from Norse territory to Atlantis via sources unknown.  Largest community is in the Valkyrie Islands on the Northeast section of Depla.  Cavour Garibald, a General loyal to Gareth, controls the Valkyrie Army.  Valkyries are incredible fighters and have skill called ‘Rampage’ which sets them on a manic fighting spree, but tires them quickly.”

            Kalika, feeling she had gained enough knowledge, nodded to the robot.  “You can go.”  She watched as it whirred thankfully and rolled out the door, closing it softly with one of its metal appendages.

            She then tossed her towel aside and got dressed.  She spent five seconds with the dark blue, sparkly straight skirt with slits up the side, and spent nearly half an hour trying to figure out how to work the dark blue corset.  When it was on, however, and coupled with the dark blue platform heels, she realized she looked incredible.  Kalika grinned at the mirror inside the wardrobe.  She liked the fashions that this place had- it was nicely medieval but strangely modern.  With a thrill, she whirled around in the dark blue outfit that made her hair look a lighter color.

            Then, with a sinking feeling, she realized she shouldn’t be so thrilled about this.  Gareth was a jerk, her sisters were probably wondering where she was, and she was trapped on a continent somewhere in one of the Oceans- which one, she didn’t know.

            However…the smell of the Ocean was everywhere, the fashions were incredible, there were robots that waited on people hand-and-foot, and the room was beautifully designed as well as furnished. 

            And diamonds…well, they’re a girl’s best friend.

            Kalika was terribly conflicted.  On one hand, there was the fact that she was homesick, and that if she married Gareth, like they all expected her to, Lila would literally kill her…

            But Atlantis was an incredible place.  There was a magical feeling in the air, and everything Kalika touched or saw seemed ten times as beautiful as it would in the States. 

            Without knowing it, she began to pace, weighing her feelings of sadness versus her feelings of joy.  She was still like this, playing with her damp hair, when Gareth strode in.

            As usual, he looked amazing.  A black silk shirt was opened at his collar, and his black slacks were stylish yet simple.  His muscles were visible even under the silk, and for a moment, the two just stared at each other.  Gareth stepped forward, and Kalika had an urge to do the same, but resisted.  He took another step, then another, and another, and finally he was in front of her.  He viscously grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her roughly.  Kalika kissed back, putting all her anger and frustration into that one kiss.  Then, she pulled back and slapped him across the face. 

            “Never- never- look at me naked without my permission.  The same goes for kissing.” She stepped away from him and went to the jewelry boxes, pulling out a sapphire necklace that was sure to be more expensive than a Ferrari.  She put it on and ignored his presence for a few moments, even though her heart was racing like mad.  He crossed to her and helped her with the sapphire earrings, and Kalika wondered if she was going to have a heart attack.  She turned and he smiled down at her.  A surge of anger was sent through her when she realized his smile had a hint of smugness in it, and she made a “humph!” noise, then moved past him, to the door.

            She turned, tapping her foot.  “Are we going?”

            Gareth nodded and looked at the floor, ashamed.  As he took the lead, Kalika grinned.  Her goal was to make him a little less smug and spoiled in one day.  She would have to work very hard to do so.

           

                                                            Four

            Kalika and Gareth started out very bad in her room, but after some time, she began to recognize his sarcastic sense of humor, and he began to be less of a pain in the ass.  She slowly stopped insulting him, and as they rode together in a mahogany (the royalty sure liked that wood) carriage, the two were slowly lowering their barriers. 

            “Where are we going?” She asked, putting her feet up on the opposite seat, and letting the slits of her skirt show her legs up to her thighs.  She smirked as he looked at the paleness of her legs, then back to her face. 

            “First, to the Atlantean ruins.  I thought maybe you would be entertained by them.”  Gareth, she knew wanted very badly to touch her, but every time he tried, she would slap his hands away and tell him he was still serving his penalty.  He was nervously wringing his hands in his lap, glancing furtively at her pale legs stretched in front of her.

            The carriage was the same wood inside as well as out.  Scarlet cushions adorned the opposite benches, and there was a window on the door made of some kind of material that was clear, but wasn’t glass- it was continuously bending and readjusting itself every time the driver hit a bump. 

            “I like cars better.” She muttered.

            Gareth snorted.  “Those things are horrible.  You get twice as much room in this carriage, and this isn’t even one of our best.”  

            Kalika, seeing an opportunity to be spiteful, asked, “What?  You don’t have the best for your future wife to be?  Shame on you!  I bet you don’t even want to marry me, and if you do, only to gain power.”

            Gareth shook his head and put his hand on her thigh.  She slapped it away.  His eyes were sorrow-filled, and she immediately felt bad.  “Do not believe that.  I love you.”

            Kalika snorted at what she felt was a lie.  “Only because of the power I’m prophesized to get you.”

            Gareth shook his head again, placed his hands around her chin, and made her look at him.  She saw his sincerity when he whispered, “I love you.”  When she didn’t answer, his brow furrowed.  “You must love me, too…” When Kalika didn’t respond again, he let go of her chin.  “You…you have to…it’s…it’s prophesized.” He sunk back in his seat, and she wondered if the look in his eyes was one of defeat.

            “Yeah, well, I guess all prophecies aren’t true.”  Kalika said, turning to look out the window.  She watched the scenery go by as her brain screamed at her to tell him she did feel something for him, but didn’t have a clue what it was.  She’d never been in love; she wanted to say, so how was she to know what love felt like?

            Kalika, stubborn being that she was, said none of this.  She merely stared out the window and felt the tears wet her cheeks. 

            The ride was slow from then on, with Gareth wallowing in pain and Kalika wallowing in thoughts.  When they arrived at the ruins, Gareth didn’t speak, just walked with Kalika silently. 

            After nearly a quarter of an hour of walking though the ruins without speaking, with Kalika stealing glances at Gareth’s pensive face, it became too much for the talkative eighteen-year-old.  She stopped walking, turned to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

            He was surprised, as was suspected with a man that had just had his heart broken by the same woman that was now kissing him.  His reaction, though slow, was complete- he placed his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.  She nearly cried out with the emotional struggle going on within, and she believed he felt it, considering he suddenly stopped kissing and just hugged her. 

            She cried into his chest, silently letting the tears drench his shirt.  It was here, in this position, where the man of ice, the one who had killed hundreds of people, showed his hard demeanor was melting- he kissed her hair and told her everything was all right.  Though a normal gesture of a normal man, Kalika saw it as good progress.

            Several minutes later, the two sat on a partly demolished bench and held hands, staring at the ruins.  Kalika felt no urge to throw him off, felt no urge to hurt him anymore.  She put her head on his shoulder and asked, “What are these ruins from?”

            Gareth pulled her a little closer, sheltering her from the colder atmosphere of the area, seeing it was of higher altitude than that of Xandretta, then answered, “Ever hear the stories of Atlantis as a child?  I was told there are some…”

            Kalika nodded.  “Yeah.  The story of the island that sank into the sea.  Is that really what this is, or did someone just name it Atlantis because of its magical properties?”

            Gareth shrugged.  “Sort of both.  This island was found by a wizard named Merdun, an associate of Merlin.  Some suspect the two were even brothers, since their names were so alike.  But, anyway- he had this connection, this skill to find magic concentrations, and he felt it centering on an island in the ocean.  So, one day, he set sail from England to find it.  He easily found the island, but the magic that was gathering there was moving it faster and faster.  He used some kind of spell to catch up to it, and by the time he had, he was so tired he feel asleep on the shore for several days.”  He paused and moved some hair out of her eyes.  “You know that when wizards use magic, they-“

            “I know, they get older and weaker.”

            Gareth nodded.  “So Merdun used so much magic to catch up to Atlantis that he aged nearly twenty years.  When he awoke, he looked fifty or so.  He began looking around the island, and found primitives.  He taught them to talk, make things, and use magic- the works.  After he died, a large palace was made of limestone in his honor, and that later became the official material of holiness- every palace is built is limestone because of that.  Since Xandretta was originally created to be the Holiest city in all of Atlantis, they decided to make all the buildings limestone.”

            “Why Xandretta?”     

            Gareth shrugged.  “Mostly because the portals were seen as holy, and that was where it was easiest to create them.”

            Kalika nodded, and realized her question hadn’t completely been answered.  “But the ruins-“

            “Oh! Right.” Said Gareth, smiling.  “Merdun.  He found the ruins late in his life, when he had civilized all the natives.  He spent the remainder of his life trying to figure out whether or not they came from the early natives or a non-human race.  He never solved that mystery, but there are many theories, and the one most believed is the one thought up by one of his descendants, Thomas.

            “Thomas was a brilliant man- he introduced many of the scientific discoveries a thousand years ago that haven’t even been discovered on the mainland, like the properties of A.I.”  Gareth smiled fondly.  He obviously enjoyed the story.  “He created the first robot as well as the first robot with A.I.  It was a disaster, of course- the machines eventually got far too intelligent, since the whole center of his A.I. was that of the learning capability.  But one of his theories was that there had been more than one Atlantis, and that the original Atlanteans had so much power they wiped themselves out or pushed themselves through another dimension.

            “That is why the skill of creating portals is given only to the Wizards, and we use the sun’s position on Stonehenge as our timing chain.  We don’t want to repeat the same mistake.” Gareth kissed the top of Kalika’s head.  “When the sun hits a certain stone of Stonehenge, the wizards have ten minutes to create a portal to whichever destination the stone allows.  The wizard community has a complex way of predicting which stone will be hit and when, so we can plan portals in advance.”

            “How long is each portal open?” Kalika asked.

            Gareth shivered against the cold.  “It really depends on the wizard as well as Stonehenge- one portal will be open for five minutes, and another for an hour.”

            “So, every day a portal is needed, a wizard has to create a whole new one?”

            Gareth shook his head.  “Hardly.  Once a portal is created, it comes back after it dissipates for about a year.  But some can be closed to conserve magic- the portal tires the wizard that created it, so sometimes certain portals will be closed.  Like the one back to your homeland.”      

            Kalika’s heart skipped a beat.  “So, I can never go back, unless I have a wizard open a portal for me?”

            “Would you want to go back?” Asked Gareth.  She didn’t answer, and they sat like that for several minutes.

            “What happened to Thomas?” She asked, thoughts turning back to the brilliant scientist.

            “Well, like I said, the machines got too smart, and he had a dozen of them.  He managed to take out half of them before they killed him.  The destruction of the rest was left to other Atlanteans.  It took nearly a hundred years to find and kill only six.  Machines were banned for a few hundred years, but that law was revoked with my grandfather, who was a fan of shiny objects.” He chuckled.  “Artificial Intelligence will never happen again, however- there have been attempts to have A.I. without the learning center- which is the only thing that is truly banned- and all have been failures.  Obviously, it is the learning center that gives a being intelligence.”

            Kalika nodded and looked at the sun, hanging low in the sky.  “I didn’t realize this much time had gone by.”

            Gareth nodded and stood.  “Time flies when you are having fun.  We had better get back- would be a bad idea to be late for a welcoming banquet in your own honor, I think.”

            Kalika nodded and stood, enjoying the freedom of the skirt and its thigh-high slits.  She instantly felt more graceful, and she twirled gracefully on one foot, giggling.  She climbed into the carriage, and Gareth shook his head.  “Women.  They are all mad.”  He looked up at the driver and nodded to the dark-skinned man.  “Back to the palace.”

           

            The ride back was so uneventful Kalika fell asleep on Gareth’s shoulder.  When the carriage came to a halt in the courtyard of the Palace in the countryside of Xandretta, she absentmindedly looked to his shoulder to check that she hadn’t drooled on him, and flinched when she saw a large wet spot.  She grimaced as she stepped out, and when he asked her what was wrong, she replied with a “Nothing,” and hoped he changed before the banquet. 

            As the two walked up the stone steps the pure white castle, Gareth apologized for not taking her somewhere other than the ruins.  “I lost track of time, there, I think.”

            Kalika nodded as he opened the door for her.  “I did too.” She began heading up the stairs to where her room was situated when Gareth asked her if she would mind wearing a dress that had been made especially for her. 

            Kalika shrugged.  “I don’t care, as long as it isn’t brown.  I refuse to wear anything crap-colored on general principles.”

            Gareth snorted and pushed open the double doors for her.  “Well, don’t worry about that- brown is looked upon as an ‘underling’ color.  Royalty never wears it.”  He began to shift his weight from side to side as Kalika crossed to the coffee table and opened the white box laying on it.  She folded aside some white tissue paper and revealed a dress of shiny scarlet decorated with inlaid rubies as well as numerous designs she couldn’t place, but looked familiar. 

            Gareth approached behind her.  “I ordered it made when I first heard of the prophecy.  I knew your measurements like I’d always known them, and it’s been lying in my room for months now.” He smiled almost shyly, in a way she liked.  “The designs are from the temple, and I thought that since the statue was clad in ruby, that you should be, too.” 

            Suddenly, Kalika had a sinking feeling.  “Where is this banquet?”

            “In Xandretta.  We’ll eat in the banquet hall in the center of the city, and then introduce you to the people.  I suppose you have your speech ready?” He asked, looking at her almost innocently.

            Kalika flinched.  “Uh…I think I’ll just wing it, actually.”

            “Wing it?” He asked, puzzled.  “Are you sure?”

            Kalika nodded.  She’d figure out what to do when she was standing in front of a crowd of people, terrified out of her wits. 

            “If you are sure…” He muttered, and moved towards the door.  “I’ll meet you downstairs after I change my clothes.” He gave her a smirk, and he left.

            She shook her head.  “And I had hoped I’d kicked the smirk out of him.”  She took off the corset and skirt, and pulled on the dress.  It glittered and seemed to glow on its own.  It made her small hips look wider, and her waist and thighs smaller.

            Kalika regarded herself in the mirror.  The dress was a miracle worker…her small breasts were actually producing cleavage, of all things.  She whispered to herself, “This is a magic dress…”

            Kalika brushed her hair back, picked up the tiara, and placed it on her head.  She added matching ruby earrings and a “Y” ruby necklace.  Then, Kalika stepped into the ruby slippers that had been sent with the dress, and laughed.  All in all, her entire outfit was probably worth a quarter of a million dollars.

Kalika took a few breaths and slowly walked toward the doors.  The shoes were anything but comfortable, and walking in them was very difficult.  She ended up nearly breaking her neck on the stairs at least twice, and just as she got to the bottom, Gareth showed up in a long black jacket on a black shirt, and wore the same pants.  He halted as soon as he saw her, and then grinned.  “You look amazing!” He slid down the banister, and she rolled her eyes. 

“Let’s go, I am really sick of carriage rides, and I want it done.” Kalika headed out the door before Gareth, and she didn’t bother to wait for him to help her into the carriage.  He climbed in and looked at her questioningly. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sitting next to her and putting his arm around her.  The carriage moved forward with a lurch, and they both nearly flew from their seats.

She looked at him sternly, asking something that had been bothering her.  “Are you just going to be nice when we’re alone, then turn to the same, smirking jerk you were before today?”

Gareth reacted as though he had been slapped, and removed his arm from her shoulders.  “You think I am a jerk?”

            “Well, yeah!  I mean, hello, before today you were a spoiled, smirking, sarcastic bastard.” Kalika looked away.  “Then you suddenly got sweet, and I thought maybe that was an act.  I thought maybe- just maybe- I could actually fall in love with you.” She looked back at him, the sunset’s gold and pink colors dancing across his skin.  “But if, every time we aren’t alone, you’re going to revert to the spoiled Prince-“ She was cut off by Gareth kissing her.

            “I am sorry.  I have been like this all my life, and if you don’t like it, I will try to change.  Please, Kalika.  I love you already, and I need you to love me, too, to feel whole.” 

            She nodded.  “Alright.  Just don’t act like a spoiled brat, and we’ll see what happens.” In all truthfulness, She knew how she felt.  She loved him, and it was both the most wonderful and the most terrible thing on earth.  She wanted more than anything to tell him this, but she refused to, until he reformed himself.

            They headed in the direction of Xandretta, and as soon as they were out of view, a shadow within shadows crept toward the white, glowing palace.  It broke in easily, and climbed up to the bedroom of Kalika.  The shadow looked around, ignoring the jewelry and such, instead opting to take a hair from the pillow and placing it within a glass vial.  This done, the shadow disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

 

            The food had been good, but the conversation dull, and now that Kalika was faced with a crowd of yelling people, and herself on a podium placed behind and to the right of Gareth, she direly wished she’d written a speech.  The crowd’s yells died down, and Gareth smiled.  He spoke into a small, microphone-like object, aside from the fact it looked like some type of crystal.  The sound was broadcasted throughout the square, and even beyond.

            “My people, I have looked long and hard for the very one you have all waited for.  I began to have dreams about her when I was very young, just as she had about me.  She comes to you from a land beyond the sea, on the mainland, just as was prophesized.  She has wanted to meet you all, and I am happy to oblige her, seeing as I plan to propose to her within a week.”

At this, the crowd began to yell, “Now!  Now!” and Gareth smiled back at Kalika.  She shrank farther back into the shadows, wishing she could bolt.  Romulus whispered in her ear an encouragement she didn’t hear over the crowd. 

“My people!  I cannot do it now, simply because you just told me to!  Now, the surprise will be nonexistent, and I want her to have the surprise, even in a minimal amount, for she knows it is destiny for her to be my wife-“ The crowd yet again roared, and Kalika backed all the way behind Romulus.  Someone getting on the platform pushed her forward, back into full view, which made the crowd yell louder.  She whirled, eyes aflame, ready to seriously hurt whoever had done that. 

Kalika came eye-to-eye with a black-haired woman with a hooknose and pointy chin.  She was taller than Kalika, and looked as if she would have much more muscle than she.  Kalika arched her eyebrow at the woman as Gareth continued to rile up the crowd. 

The woman laughed at Kalika, and she readied herself for an attack.  When the woman stuck out her hand and said loudly, “I am Dahlia,” It was shock enough without the crowd yelling behind her.  Kalika took the woman’s hand and shook it after a moment.  The hand was rough and calloused with work.

“Kalika.” She practically yelled back, just as Romulus, who was standing next to Dahlia, kicked her sharply. 

“You’re on!” He yelled, pushing her forward. 

Kalika stumbled forward, next to Gareth.  In her ear, he whispered, “Good Luck,” and stepped away.  Her initial reaction was that he had just jinxed her, and she was doomed, but she cast that thought aside.

She used the time it took for the crowd to quiet to her advantage, thinking furiously.  Remembering Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, and the speeches of Brutus and Antony, she began as soon as the crowd quieted, shakily at first, then stronger and stronger.

“Friends, Atlanteans, Countrymen, lend me your ears.  I mean this not literally, but figuratively.  Please, do not attempt to give me your ears.  I don’t need that much earwax.”  This got a stifled laugh out of the crowd, and Kalika continued, the shaking of her knees beginning to ease.  “I am but a girl like all of you.  I am no more important, and no less important, than any other girl my age.  You may disagree- from what I have been told, you have all seen the statue in that temple,” She pointed straight forward, where the tall white building’s outline could be seen in the darkness, “and have knelt before it in prayer.” 

Kalika, feeling the need to move around, broke the crystal from the wire that held it up and carried it in her hand.  She jumped into the crowd, which caused an uproar on the platform as well as a shock within the crowd.  An approving glance was shared between the raven-haired Dahlia and Romulus as Kalika moved through the crowd, looking straight into the eyes of several common people.  One man sank to his knees at the sight of her, and Kalika knelt next to him.  Those on the platform did not hear the words shared; simply the sight of the soon-to-be fiancé of the Prince kneeling next to a commoner was too much for the Queen, who fainted in her chair.

Kalika stood up, as did the man.  She yelled into the crystal.  “There is no need to bow to me, or avoid my eyes.  I have no special powers.  I’m just a girl, with the flaws and talents of any other.” She jumped onto a limestone fountain, and continued.  “I’m not better or worse than any of you.” She yelled at the advancing guards to halt, and turned back to the crowd.  “I want you to remember, that even though I wasn’t born in Atlantis, that I don’t have the same dialect or slang, I am still no better or worse than any of you.  You, Me, and all royalty-” Kalika pointed at the crowd, then to herself, then to the podium, where Gareth was staring at her in shock.  “We are all the same.  There is no better or worse, not here, not anywhere.”

Kalika jumped down from the fountain and walked about the crowd again.  They weren’t as afraid- a few actually made eye contact with the famed Kalika.  “The first thing you need to do, in order to become strong, is to push toward the equality of everyone.  Equal opportunity, my country called it.  Everyone gets the same basic privileges as everyone else, aside from the select few that get more than that via some sort of chance.”  Kalika climbed back up on the platform.  “Remember that you are all the same.  Remember your pride and your strengths.  No one can take that from you.” 

Realizing what she had intended to speak of, she had barely mentioned, she added, “And remember that mercy is sometimes the best thing to use in a situation.”

Kalika put the crystal back in its wire holder, and her footsteps seemed awfully loud as she stepped off the platform and into the waiting carriage.  Then, slowly, the crowd began to chant.  But as soon as Kalika was in the carriage, she knocked the roof of it, signaling the driver to go.  He started off, and Kalika put her head in her hands.  She had intended a moderate speech of introduction, and a speech of mercy towards prisoners, but all that had rushed out.  After seeing the contrast between the wealth of the palace and the poverty of the city, she had needed to say something about equality.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed the side of the moving carriage, and she screamed.  The hand was followed by an arm and a shoulder, then a head.  Kalika relaxed; it was Gareth.

He sat next to her, a troubled look on his face.  “There’s never been a change in the class system.  It’s always been the rich, the poor, and the middle.  There’s never been an upper middle class or a lower middle class, which I am positive is your proposal.”

Kalika nodded.  “Not a communistic government, but one where more people have more wealth.  Maybe all you need to do is raise wages and lower prices-“

Gareth shook his head.  “I can’t do that.  We’re at war.”

Kalika frowned.  “You’ve been at war for more than fifty years.  Make a treaty, for God’s sake.  You’re killing hundreds just because you want to carry on your father’s legacy-“

“What, and you aren’t?  I know you’ve searched yourself for your father’s murderer.  I know where he is.”

Kalika’s blood ran cold.  “Don’t tell me that.”

Gareth nodded, a sickly smile on his face.  “He’s in the palace dungeon.  Wouldn’t you like to show him what you think of what he did?”

Kalika glared at Gareth.  “How dare you?  You know what my pride will make me do, and you know it will directly interfere with what my message was supposed to be about today- mercy and love.  You’re going to use this to undermine my image as well as my conscience- I won’t allow it.  Show me him, and I won’t marry you, not even if you torture me.”

“Fine,” Said Gareth.  “I’ll let him rot in the dungeons.”

 

Kalika couldn’t sleep.  She twisted and turned in her four-poster mahogany bed, her mind frustrated.  Thoughts of revenge itched her soul, and memories of a father she had barely known did the same.

Her father had been a famous archeologist, and Kalika’s memories of him were happy ones.  He had been a loving, kind man with a knack for finding things in layers upon layers of dirt.  Kalika’s mother had collapsed inward when he died, and had never fully recovered to the good, loving woman she had once been.  But there was enough sense in her to explain to her two children, Lila and Kalika, what had happened to their father.

However, it probably wasn’t wise for her to have done it when Kalika was five and Lila was four.  There was no doubt that the two girls were somehow scarred emotionally from knowing intimately of death at such a young age.

Kalika’s mother had come home early that day, and picked her children up early from school.  Kalika, just starting kindergarten, whined and complained that she was missing naptime while Lila took a nap in the backseat, beside her.  Neither girl noticed their mother was sobbing while driving dangerously, but they did notice something was wrong when they stopped at the hospital.

Five-year-old Kalika, expecting a dreaded shot, screamed that she wasn’t going to move.  After her sobbing mother assured her there would be no needles, and to just get out of the car, young Kalika calmed down and asked her mother what was wrong.

Lila awoke, and the three went into the hospital’s emergency room.  Kalika and Lila played with the tinker toys in the waiting room as a sullen doctor told their mother the news.  She collapsed and the two girls instantly knew their father was dead.  Lila began to cry, screaming in disbelief, but Kalika did nothing, and just stared at the way the doctor hugged her mother to his chest and allowed her to cry.

On the news that night, there was a report that the famed archeologist, Marcus Korey, had been murdered at his work that day.  The suspects ranged from his coworkers to his enemies, and over time, Kalika kept track of the investigation- it went nowhere.  There had been strange marks on his neck, like that of a rope, but he had most definitely been shot in the chest.  The coroner’s report- that was stashed in a chest near her bed along with other things from the case- had said that there had been enough blood that Marcus Korey could not have been strangled to death, but perhaps had been after death by the murderer.  It was a complex case that was doomed from the start.

Her mother hired Private Investigators for the next two years, but stopped simply because she was short of money for a few months.  After she got out of these money problems, she never resumed payment to another Private Investigator, and Kalika understood why.  The woman that had loved her husband had died with him, leaving instead a whorish shell of a woman behind. 

Kalika brought herself back to reality.  In all truth, it couldn’t hurt to know who had killed her father; it was, after all, just knowledge, and knowledge couldn’t hurt anybody. 

Kalika got out of bed and headed to Gareth’s room down the long hallway.  The robot had told her where Gareth slept, and she had memorized where to go. 

The hallway was spookier at close to midnight than it was in the daylight, and the soft glow from the ceiling was anything but comforting, for it created more shadows.  She finally arrived at mahogany double doors like her own, and decided not to bother knocking.  She let herself in, and crossed her arms at Gareth, who sat in a chair facing the door, reading a book.  He looked up at her slyly, setting the book down.

“Take me to him.” Kalika said simply.

 

Gareth led her down a long spiral staircase of black stone to an entryway.  It was dark, and the only glow came from the ball of fire Harvey held in his hand.  After Kalika had interrupted Gareth’s reading, Gareth had rang a bell next to his bed, which summoned a sleepy Harvey within moments.  Harvey muttered something about never getting any sleep, but didn’t outwardly complain.  He merely started a light source, and until they reached the dark, stone door, that seemed to be his only purpose.  However, when Kalika, who was last, descended the final step, she saw Harvey had another purpose.  He set the ball of fire afloat in the cold air, and withdrew a silver, old-fashioned key from a pocket.  He inserted the key into a slot, and with a creak, the black door opened. 

Harvey leaned against it and allowed Gareth to pass him.  He was putting the key back into the pocket of his pajama pants as he winked at her.  Kalika arched her eyebrow, and Harvey said, “Only wizards can even touch this key.”  She nodded in response, and followed Gareth inside.  Harvey watched Kalika’s retreating back until the dark hall consumed her.  “Please do what is right.” He prayed.

He stopped at a metal door this time, and he opened it with a creaking noise.  Inside, it smelled of death- feces, human flesh, and tears.  Kalika wrinkled her nose and looked cautiously inside.  “Light!” Gareth yelled at the ceiling. The ceiling then glowed so bright Kalika stepped back and shielded her eyes as they adjusted.

The cell consisted of a bed of straw on one side, and a clogged toilet on the other.  It was filthy, and stank badly.  The man inside barely resembled a man.  Gareth asked him his name.

“What is your name?” Gareth demanded slyly.  He seemed to know it, and was merely putting on a show for Kalika.

“I am Jake Berr.” This name seemed familiar to Kalika, and she narrowed her eyes, trying to place him.  A dark black beard adorned his face, which was disgustingly oily.  As he spoke, Kalika could see rotting teeth, which made her look away. 

“What did you do, before we took you prisoner?”  Gareth asked.  He watched Kalika’s reactions out of the corner of his eye.

“I was an archeologist.” Said the defeated shadow of a man, in a hollow voice.

“Did you ever kill anyone for love of your work?” Gareth asked, smiling sickly, a malevolent glow in his dark eyes.

The man looked away, and Gareth repeated the question.  Then, what was once Jake Berr looked at Kalika.  “Yes.”

“Who did you kill?”

The man closed his eyes and whispered, “Marcus Korey.”

Kalika shut her eyes from seeing her father’s murderer, and Gareth asked, as if from far away, what Jake’s motive had been.  The man replied sadly that he had wanted the wealth from a site Marcus had discovered, and was overcome with greed. 

Gareth nodded and turned to Kalika.  “What will you do to him, my darling?”  When she didn’t answer, and kept her eyes shut, he withdrew a sword from the strap on his back, and threw it to the floor.  “You know what you have to do.”  He then left the cell and made his way back up the staircase, past Harvey.  He smiled at the wizard as he passed, and then resumed his usual face of a snobbish prince as he heard a man’s scream behind him.  Gareth then stopped and looked behind him.  Harvey had moved from his relaxed position leaning against the door and was squinting down the dark hallway.  A slow, cruel smile crept up the Prince’s lips as he headed back to his bedroom.

 

When Gareth had left the room, Jake had lunged for the sword, seeing his chance at freedom.  Kalika had kicked him in the head, making him fall on his back, dazed.  She picked the sword from the floor and stared at Jake Berr, nothing but a pile of bones and skin, not even a man anymore.  He was nothing, and he knew it as he cowered in the corner, whimpering.  She advanced, sword held high.  He screamed, a last testament to his manhood, and Kalika, in shock, stepped back.  She dropped the sword and stared at him.  “How could you have ever killed my father?”

“I didn’t.” Sobbed the man.  “He killed himself.  He made me make it look like a murder so his wife wouldn’t do the same.  He loved her so much he just wanted her to get over it quicker, which he thought she would if it looked like a murder.”

Kalika felt the tears stream down her cheeks.  “How?” She choked out.

The man cried into his dirty hands.  “He hung himself, and my orders were to move the chair he had stood on into another man’s office, then to shoot him in the chest, after he was unconscious, but before he was dead, so he’d bleed enough.  For doing this, he gave me several thousand dollars, which I put into an account for my son, David.  He’s dead.”  He curled into a fetal position and sobbed harder.  “Gareth’s men killed him when they came to get me.  He was only twelve.”  Jake looked up at her, tears in his eyes.  “I only did what your father told me to do, for my son.  I am so, so sorry.”

Kalika knelt next to the poor, broken man, and let him sob into her shoulder.  She suspected she would smell of excrement, but didn’t truly care.  Her eyes locked on the backed up toilet and bed of straw, and she felt her anger rising.  It was then Harvey arrived at the door, out of breath from running.  He looked at the two quizzically.  “What…”

“How many are in this place, Harvey?  How many people on this island are slaves, or were brought here against their will?” Jake’s oily hair made a yellow mark on her white robe.  She quietly asked, “How many people in this country has Gareth wronged like this?”

Harvey, knowing he should lie, decided against it.  “Thousands.”  He looked at the floor, ashamed.

Kalika nodded, staring into space.  After a moment, she reached a conclusion.  “Harvey, release all the people in this dungeon.”

Harvey’s head snapped up.  Was she suggesting freeing the prisoners?  Going against the prince?  “Ma’am-“

“Gareth never comes down here anyway.  Release them all.  Give them a shower and let them all sleep in my room.  I wont sleep in it tonight.  Make sure they’re gone before sunrise, so Gareth won’t see them.” Kalika stood, and helped Jake to his feet.  He was dangerously thin and pale.  “Give them all a good meal before they leave.”

Harvey nodded slowly and made his way through the hall, opening all the cell doors.  He helped a few to stand, and the few that couldn’t stand, he supported himself.

Kalika, after saying goodbye to Jake and wishing him luck, disappeared up the staircase to her room, and quickly changed into a sky blue corset with matching skirt.  She took a black hooded cape from inside the wardrobe, and was gone before the first of the prisoners slowly climbed the stairs.

 

                                                Five

Kalika wandered through Xandretta and its suburbs aimlessly.  She had no idea where to go, so she just wandered.  The nightlife of Xandretta was booming, and loud, techno-like music was blaring from a small limestone building with “Power Magenta” inscribed above the door.  Though a good time sounded attractive, she didn’t dare venture anywhere she would be out of place.  Though she had abandoned all the jewelry, she knew that with her face, she’d be very obvious. 

But she hadn’t clubbed since August…

She sighed and looked inside.  It was just dark enough that she could get away with it…

No.  She was an outcast because she was the Queen-to-be.  She was an outcast because her clothes were so obviously fashionable and her face so well known.  She was respected, and even loved…but a ruler is always separated from her constituents.

Kalika almost slapped herself.  She wasn’t a ruler!  She was just a girl from Michigan that lived on a pond that was so muck-filled it was impossible to swim in.  She was a girl that had once stolen panties from a store, a girl that had once cheated on a Geometry test.  She wasn’t a princess or a queen.  She wasn’t overly honorable or noble, nor was she overly honest or kind.  She was a simple girl that merely wanted to teach Philosophy at a University someday.

Kalika kicked at a stone on the ground and wandered along.  The full moon shone down and made all the buildings seem a milky white color.  The dark night was nothing more than a grouping of shadows to the cool moon, which was so bright that it was like the sun, only of a softer glow.  It shone down in such a surreal way that she wondered if she was dreaming.  Aside from a few nightclubs filled with rebellious teens, the night was peaceful and quiet.  After an undeterminable amount of time, she looked up to see the Temple. 

It looked different in the moonlight, somewhat more surreal, if that was possible.  The designs filled in with gold and silver shone like a beacon, and Kalika ascended the steps as if in a trance, and found herself on the threshold.  She was at the statue of herself before she realized she had even entered the temple.  She stood in front of it, looking at it.  “You embody these people’s hopes and dreams.  You have been worshipped day and night for hundreds of years.”  Kalika shook her head.  “How am I supposed to live up to what they’ve built up in their heads to be the prophesized one?” With that, she sank to her knees and put her head against the limestone platform.  “What am I supposed to do?”

Romulus and Dahlia watched from the shadows as the dejected Kalika quietly weighed her options as well as reviewed her past mistakes.

The two retreated up the hidden steps to Romulus’ dwelling, and Romulus offered Dahlia some tea.  She accepted, and then shook her head of jet-black hair.  “She is nothing like we thought.”

Romulus nodded and threw his cloak on the chair closest to the door.  “You’re telling me.  No one’s even proposed complete equality for more than two hundred years.”

Dahlia nodded worriedly.  “And the last one that did was killed.”

Romulus flipped a switch over the fireplace, and with a rush, the flames leapt up.  Romulus withdrew a tray from over the fireplace and placed it next to the basin that served as a sink.  He rummaged in the cabinets for a kettle.  “Yeah.  But this time it’s different- it might actually fall through.”

Dahlia smiled and crossed to the sole window in the entire building, facing the south side of Xandretta, where the palace, though ten miles away, could still be seen visibly.  “Did she walk all the way from there to come here?”
            Romulus shrugged and filled the kettle.  “My guess is that she just wandered and stumbled in here, not knowing where else to go.”

Dahlia continued looking out the window.  “Do you think she’s as good a fighter as they all say?”

Romulus placed the kettle on the metal plate and put the metal, rectangular plate in its position over the fireplace.  “It’s possible.  She fought off Gareth in his hotel room, and she was bleeding badly.  She escaped from him twice, the first after being cut along the length of her stomach.  I don’t doubt anything to do with her fighting skills.”

Dahlia turned to look at him.  “What do you doubt then?”

He shrugged and moved to stand next to her, looking out at Xandretta.  “I don’t think I doubt anything.  She obviously has good intentions- at the end of her oratory she mentioned to keep mercy in mind.  But her and Gareth’s relationship is important to all of Atlantis- I only hope she goes about it in the right way.”

Dahlia slowly nodded.  “So do I.  So you don’t have any doubts in her morality?  That she has enough to do all she has to do without being corrupted?”

Romulus smiled as the kettle whistled.  “None whatsoever.”

Dahlia raised one eyebrow.  “That’s a first.”

He laughed as he poured the tea into cups.  “She strikes me as one of those few people that, although they have flaws, bounce back and change the world.  She will change our world, Dahlia, and in the years to come, she will be worshipped and applauded.  I only hope she doesn’t allow herself to be corrupted.  No sugar as usual, I assume?” Dahlia nodded, and Romulus shook his head.  “Me, I always need at least two tablespoons.” He handed her the cup.

            Dahlia set it on the large cedar table and sat in front of it.  “We’ve allied ourselves with Zulai- it’s completely official as of today.” 

            Romulus sat and sipped at his overly sugary tea.  “I thought you had already?”

            Dahlia gave him a sharp look.  “It’s been the knowledge of Gareth and his posse for a few days- today the Zulai king announced it to his people.”  The woman shook her head and took a long drink of the tea.  “They seem to think we’ll bring them immediate victory, the poor fools.”

            Romulus looked at her, shocked.  “You won’t?”

            Dahlia laughed.  “The Dark Riders have always kept the number of members secret- as it is very hard to get in, and we blend in so well to the populous, people have assumed we number in the tens of thousands, when we’re barely five thousand.  Zulai is only holding their current position via magical blocks.  Their entire army is pretty much demolished- they’ve gone to training anyone over the age of ten to fight, and even then they only number around another five thousand, giving me ten to work with.  It’s not enough.  They’ve been quite desperate ever since they were pushed back into the swamps, and Gareth’s entire army consists of about a hundred thousand strong, well-built men.  We may be more skilled in fighting, but we have no hope against his army alone.”  Dahlia laughed sardonically.  “In all truth, we need the Valkyries, blasted self-centered bitches they are.”

            Romulus nodded slowly and gazed into space.  “That would boost your numbers to around sixty thousand.  I do believe the Valkyrie army is around fifty?”

            Dahlia snorted.  “In peacetime.  In war they all run to join, except the men and the children.”

            Romulus focused back on Dahlia.  “But we are at war.”

            Dahlia shook her head and shifted in her chair.  “We are.  But the Valkyries only run to fight when it is a fight that either pays well or is headed by someone they respect a great deal- and they don’t give a damn about their current leader.”

            Romulus nodded.  “Cavour Garibald.  He is an immoral man.”

            Dahlia nodded and finished her tea.  “More like a bastard of a man.  And that is exactly why all the Valkyries don’t follow him into battle.  A few do, but mostly because they love fighting more than anything else.”

            Romulus stood and took her cup.  He threw his unfinished tea in the sink, and then placed the cups beside it.  “I think we might be able to get the Valkyries to join the Zulai.”

            Dahlia, her interest piqued, asked, “How?”

            Romulus turned to her and pointed to the floor.  “Kalika.  Who else could win their loyalty?”

            Dahlia shook her head.  “No way- they don’t believe in prophecies.”

            “But they’ve heard them!  And if she lives up to them, it will win their respect.”  Romulus smiled widely.  “And she will live up to them.”

            “Romulus, she’s just a girl.  A girl from the mainland, in fact, and the Valkyries instantly distrust anyone not from Atlantis or the Norse lands.  Do you honestly think that she can win the respect of the Valkyries?”

            Romulus smiled.  “I am sure she will damn well come close if she doesn’t completely.”

            Dahlia stood.  “Well, I trust your judgment.  If you say she can do it, she can do it.  I’d better go- I’m sure the Dark Riders are running around like crazy because I’m late to the meeting.”

            “Meeting, eh?  Sounds exciting.  What is it about this time, how to brush a horse correctly again?”

            Dahlia blushed.  “We don’t always talk about that.  You should have known we were horrendously drunk.”

            Romulus smirked and withdrew a large bag from next to the couch.  “Here- it is all the gold and silver you could want- the usual anonymous donation.”

            Dahlia looked at him, shocked.  “I didn’t know you cared about how to brush a horse correctly that much.”

            Romulus laughed.  “I don’t.  I care about bringing down Gareth.  Do that, or you’ll owe me- I pretty much embezzled all that from the Temple.”

            Dahlia’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline as she hoisted the bag onto her back.  “Wow.  You’re really living the line.”

            “Oh, spare me your sarcasm and get out.” Replied a tired Romulus.

            Dahlia blew him a kiss as she left.  “See you next week.”

 

            Kalika awoke a few minutes later, thinking she had heard the noise of jingling metals and a door closing.  Her knees screamed in pain after being on the hard stone floor for only a few minutes, and her head ached without cause.  Creakily, she stood, eyes on those of the statue.  “I will live up to you.”

            A laugh was heard behind her.  “Talking to an inanimate object.  That really is showing the qualities one looks for in a chosen one…”

            Kalika shook her head and turned.  “Hi, Romulus.  How are you?”

            “I could be better.” He yawned.  “What are you doing out this late?”

            She shrugged.  “Running away from my troubles, in the most literal sense.”

            “Running never solves anything, you know.” Romulus said, moving to stand next to her. 

            “So?  No one ever runs to solve a problem.” She sighed and stared at the statue.  “Who made this, anyway?  Who prophesized me?”

            “Ah, now there is a bedtime story all children are told.” He said, leaning against a pillar.  “There was a seer who was blind, about five hundred years ago. She was more accurate than any other seer- she predicted the flood of the Aqua River, which flooded half of Zulai in 1794-this flood caused the Zulai swamps, where the country now hides behind magical barricades.  Anyway, her name was Lalita, and she saw more then a hundred pivotal events in her short life.  She died at twenty-six, shortly after she foresaw the whole of Atlantis coming under the rule of a girl of eighteen, with a name of ‘She who destroys’.” Romulus motioned to the statue.  “She created this the night before she died; she was a talented sculptor.”

            “What did she die of?” Kalika asked, interested.

            Romulus looked at the statue again, sadly.  “She was murdered by her fiancé.  He was a religious man, and thought she was giving out blasphemy at her last prophecy.”

            “Her last prophecy…me.”  Kalika said, looking at him.

            “Yes.” Romulus said, and looked up at the ceiling, then back down to Kalika.  “The prophecy of you killed her, in a way.  Sort of a bad omen for you, I think.”

            Kalika nodded slowly.  “Right.”  She turned and began to walk away slowly.  “Thanks for the info, Rom.”

            Romulus snorted at this nickname and called out, “I liked your speech today.”

            Kalika kept walking.  “Yeah, well, you’re the only one.”

            “Actually, no,” Romulus called.  “There are others of the opinion that the royalty is getting too powerful and want change.”

            Kalika stopped and turned back to him, hands on her hips, expecting foul play.  “Oh?  And I’m supposed to believe you, why?  Because you put me to sleep instead of letting me run from Gareth?  No way.” She whirled and walked away faster, and as her hand was on the door handle, Romulus spoke again.

            “You are supposed to believe me because of what you saw tonight.”

            Immediately, Kalika froze and turned to Romulus.  “How did you know about that?”  She stepped forward a few steps.  “Harvey couldn’t have found you, he’s still dealing with the prisoners.”  Frantic, she narrowed her eyes.  “Does Gareth know?”

            Romulus shook his head.  “Hardly.  I have my ways of finding out- it’s a special portal that monitors all events pertaining to both you and Gareth.  It’s a one-way portal; a looking glass, you might say.  It shows me things.”

            Kalika’s jaw clenched.  “You were spying on me?”

            Romulus smiled.  “I consider it watching.  Spying is such an offensive word.”

            Kalika shook her head at him.  “I cannot believe you.  You are so much like Gareth.  If he knows, well, I don’t care.” She looked around, as if expecting to see him jump from the shadows.

            Romulus, who hadn’t moved from his position next to the statue, stepped forward.  “You do care, don’t you?  You don’t want to, but you can’t help it.”

            Kalika looked away, and spoke softly, with anguish.  “He’s a monster.  How can I feel this way?”

            Romulus smiled kindly.  “It is love, my dear girl.  It is an insane emotion.”

            “Yeah.” She said, looking away.  “What can I do to stop him?”

            Romulus, who hadn’t expected such an easy way to manipulate Kalika, asked, “How do you mean?”

            Kalika waved her hands in the air.  “You know.  What can I do to stop all he’s doing, to stop the battles and the war and the injustices?  There has to be something.”

            Romulus nearly smiled underneath the thoughtful expression he put on.  “Hmm.  Well you could- no, I can’t ask that of you.”

            “What?” Demanded Kalika, on queue.  “Please, what?”

            Romulus adopted a melodramatic air.  “There is an army made up of Valkyries, which is the strongest army in Atlantis.  If you win their respect, they’ll follow you to the edge of the world.  You can stop Gareth with an army of Valkyries.”

            Kalika looked away.  “I can’t openly fight him.”

            “My dear, you won’t have to.” He offered her his hand.  “Trust me.”

            Kalika looked from Romulus’ face to his hand, and then slowly took it.  “Alright.”

 

            Dahlia had gotten back to the brothel in the center of Xandretta so late that there weren’t any men sitting around waiting to be serviced.  The clerk smiled at her and motioned to the back room with a movement of his head.  She smiled gratefully and yawned, the bag of valuables on her back.  She made her way past several empty rooms as well as a few rooms with the noises of sex coming from inside, and stopped at the very last door, which was quiet.  She knocked three times, and she waited as someone looked through the peephole at her.

            The door was opened by a gangly boy in his late teens.  “Hey babe.”

            She elbowed him on her way inside.  “Don’t ‘hey babe’ me.” She set the bag on the table, where several men and women of varying ages sat.  “A donation from an anonymous contributor.”

            One man of fifty inspected it and smiled.  “Romulus.  We owe him much.”

            Dahlia nodded. “No kidding.”  She looked at one of the two females in the group and grinned, moving to sit in the one empty seat on the woman’s right.  “Agrid, back so soon?  How are the slaves in Azur?” She asked as she sat, referring to the country that took up more than a quarter of Atlantis’ coastline. 

            Agrid looked sullen, brushing a stray brown hair out of her face.  “Still enslaved, Dahlia.  We freed who we could from the farms on the border, and the good news is that more than half are staying on to train and join our ranks.  The bad news is that the others are all from different parts of the mainland, and getting a separate portal for each and every one of them is going to be very difficult, if not impossible.”

            Dahlia nodded.  “There’s no need to.  Arrange a portal for each continent, then have a van bring them to wherever they live.”  Dahlia paused before asking the usual question.  “Were any of them my sister?”

            Agrid shook her head.  “No.  There was a boy that recognized her description, but it was because he went to school with her, not that she was enslaved.” Dahlia breathed deep and smiled before nodding.

            Her sister, as far as Dahlia knew, was still in her own hometown of New York City, but there was always a fear that she, too, would be kidnapped just as Dahlia had been.  Dahlia shuddered as she remembered her slavery in Azur, the only country that used slaves both as manual labor and breeding stock- something that had been outlawed in every country in Atlantis besides that conservative coastal country.  Other countries used slaves for manual labor, but not breeding stock. 

            Dahlia, unfortunately, had been chosen as breeding stock at the age of thirteen.  Luckily, the Dark Riders had liberated the slaves on the farm her master headed only two years later.  When they had offered to train the slaves, as was the custom of the Dark Riders, she accepted, feeling the need to do something to prove she wasn’t just a child with physical as well as emotional scars.

            Dahlia sat in the chair, looking at the people around her table.  The old man of fifty that had inspected the valuables from Romulus spoke up.  “Dahlia, what are we going to do about the army?  We’re too few to openly fight Gareth, and its rumored that he’s planning an assault.  Maybe we should flee to one of the rural cities, like Dasan or Gardena, and plan from there.”

            Dahlia shook her head no.  “Our base has been Xandretta even when Gareth’s father was on the blood hunt for us.  We stay in Xandretta- we’ve got an image to uphold, and I plan to uphold it.  We will not run.”

            The old man nodded.  “Then what about the army?”

            Dahlia smiled.  “Romulus, I think, will handle that- I do believe he is going to try to get Kalika to fight Garibald for control of the Valkyrie army.”

            The old man blinked.  “Kalika?”

            The only other female at the table besides Dahlia and the brunette, a shy young woman with flaming hair smiled.  “Her speech to the people was riveting.  I think she is sincere.”

            The old man looked at the other woman.  “She knelt down next to me in the square and told me to never kneel again.”

            Dahlia arched her eyebrow.  “That was you?
            He nodded.  “Yes…She had an aura about her.”

            The red-haired woman looked at him.  “An aura?”

            The old man nodded.  “She showed red, blue, green, pink, brown- which mean passion, power, nobility, love, and humility.”

            “Oh!” Said the redhead, blushing.  “I forgot you sensed auras, Kevin.”

            Kevin nodded slowly.  “Hers was amazing.  I’ve never seen anything like it- it was why I dropped to my knees.”

            Dahlia’s brow furrowed.  “Auras- my memory is fading again…someone remind me of that concept.”

            Kevin shrugged and stared into space while he spoke.  “It’s the combination of the feelings the person shows along with the personality of the person.  On the mainland, auras are believed to be the embodiment soul of the person, but in reality it’s truly a combination of their mood and personality.”  He paused.  “That was why Kalika’s was so strange- She showed little outward emotion, but all personality.”  He smiled as he remembered.  “She also showed some canary yellow, however, which means nausea.  I think she was nervous out of her wits.”

            Dahlia sat back in her chair, slightly annoyed.  “I have no doubt Kalika is amazing, but that’s not the matter at hand.” She paused.  “What is the matter at hand?”

            The people around the table each shrugged in their turn.  Kevin spoke after a few moments.  “Well, I think it has mostly been covered- we’ll deal with the army situation as soon as we get word if Kalika is actually going to try to beat Garibald.  I think Agrid is planning another venture into Azur to free some more slaves, and I’m going to go home and sleep before I have to open my shop at sunrise.” He stood and bid them farewell.  “Do be here on time, next week, Dahlia.  If you need me before next week Monday, you know where I’ll be.” He left through the back door.

            “The same goes for me, Dahlia.  See you.” The redhead said, as she left through the front. 

            The brunette took the brown bag and nearly folded under its weight.  “I will take this to our bank in Gardena.  See you next week, Dahlia.”

            “Wait,” Dahlia said.  She pulled a glass vial from a pocket in her cloak and handed it to the brunette.  “Take this to the lab in Gardena, since you’re headed that way.  It’s a sample of Kalika’s hair- I want to know what her DNA looks like, strange as it sounds.” The brunette took the vial and tucked it in her corset, smiling lightly as she left.

            The chairs emptied quickly, leaving Dahlia with the young ensign standing out of the way.  She waved her hand and stood.  “You have my leave to go.  Don’t call me ‘babe’ next week.”  The ensign smiled and went out the front door, stopping only to look at a door with loud moaning coming from behind it before moving on.

            Dahlia stood and stumbled into one of the empty bedrooms.  As her head hit the pillow, she muttered, “And I get to go back to my day job in the morning.”

            A few hours a coworker woke her with a sleazy man on her arm, who was already stripping off his pants with his other arm.  Dahlia quickly left and slept in the back room, her only company boxes of condoms and birth control potions.

           

            Kalika wandered throughout Xandretta for several more hours, nearly getting mugged in an alley not far from the Temple.  The night swam in her head- the energetic speech, the prisoners in those filthy cells, the agreement with Romulus; it all seemed to swim in and out of her head like a wispy gray smoke.  She ignored several whispering people that she passed and moved on with her night walk. 

            Her thoughts were everywhere- on Gareth, Romulus, her sisters- She missed all her sisters, even annoying, bitchy Jenna.  Her stomach sunk to her toes when she thought of Lila, probably wondering where she was, and if Gareth had killed her.

            It seemed like so much time had passed between when she had left Greenville, but in all truth it had only been less than three days.  Slowly, her memories of the time before the portal faded, and the ones since she came out of the portal became clearer.  It was like a line was drawn in her life- the time before the portal and the time after.  She felt like one of those pictures on TV; the before and after photos of a person that had changed drastically.

            As soon as the Eastern sky began to light with the colors of dawn, she headed south, back towards the palace.  She was rather tired after walking several miles in one night.  She didn’t get back to the palace until the sun had risen, and she sauntered in the main entrance.  A robot whirred at her questioningly, but she ignored it and climbed the stairs.  A second robot whirred at her when she reached the hallway with her room, but she absentmindedly flipped it off.  It made an annoyed, metallic sound and rolled away.

            Her room was the same as it had been when she left it, and as she looked around, wondering if Harvey had even taken her offer, she realized he had.

            Rows of robots were furiously cleaning, and she laughed.  One was taking immensely dirty towels from the bathroom, and another was placing clean sheets on the bed.  It turned down the covers for her and whirred aside, out of her way.  Kalika threw off the corset and took the shirt offered by another robot, pulling it on. 

            She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

 

            A knocking on her door interrupted Kalika’s deep sleep.  She sat up groggily, looking around her empty room.  She stood and pulled a robe around herself, then answered the door.

            It was the same sandy- haired boy that had interrupted her trek to the shower the day before.  He smiled apologetically.  “Gareth sends word that he will meet you for lunch in an hour, and tells you to wear no jewels- you are going to dine in the city.  He wishes for you to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

            She nodded and waved her hand, signaling the boy to go.  He left, skipping down the lonely stone hallways jovially.  With a shake of her head, she closed the door.

            After a quick shower, She was more or less ready.  She sifted through the wardrobe for something- anything- that was inconspicuous.  After a time, she did find white leather pants and coupled this with a white corset.  She spent the remainder of her time pacing, hoping that Gareth hadn’t learned of her activities the night before. 

            He ended up appearing at the threshold of her room immediately after she felt a pang of fear that Harvey had betrayed her actions to Gareth, and he was going to do something horrible at their prescheduled lunch.  She was still pacing when he entered, wearing the usual smile of superiority with the same ease any other person would smile.  “As usual, my dear one, you look incredible.”

            She could say the same for him, in his dark navy outfit of satin topped with a black cloak, but she didn’t.  She was still angry with him for almost making her kill the poor prisoner, Jake, the night before.  She had been close, uncomfortably so, to actually doing it, something she dared not ever come close to again.  Kalika stepped past the smirking Gareth and proceeded to the waiting carriage, down the stairs and outside, refusing to speak to him. 

            After fifteen minutes in the carriage with no one speaking, Gareth said, frowning, “If I had thought you’d be like this I’d never taken you down there.”

            She turned her gaze from the window to him, glaring.  “What did you think I’d do?  I killed a man, its very traumatizing, I’m told.”  She figured that if he thought she’d killed Jake, she’d have less to answer to, so she played along.

            Gareth shrugged.  “Well, I thought maybe you would stop this little crusade to change my country and instead focus on me.”

            “Focus on you?  What, don’t you have enough people fawning over you?”

            He looked at her sharply.  “Doesn’t hurt to have one more.”

            She slapped him.  “You’re a complete bastard, you know that?  You look for me for months, and then expect me to worship you after you kidnap me.  I don’t think so- I’ve got pride and I plan on keeping it.”  He began to speak, and she stopped him.  “I’m the one these people have been looking forward to for hundreds of years.  Who do you think they’ll follow, when the time comes to choose?”

            She’d pushed the right button, for his eyes shone with fear.  “You wouldn’t go against me!” The carriage came to a halt and he stepped out, offering a hand to Kalika.  She didn’t take it, but avoided it and stepped to the side.  He glared at her and muttered something about her stubbornness.

            She whirled.  “It’s your fault I’m here- so deal with me.”

            He shook his head and led her to a large building where numerous nobles were dining on fish and meat on an upper tier, while the common people munched on vegetables on the ground floor.  One look at the newest couple that had entered, and the server went to secure a table on the upper tier.  The line of people took up an entire hallway, all of them staring at Kalika and Gareth.  He took her arm in his and smiled at the people, but his smile faded when she elbowed his ribs and he let go of her arm.  She stepped in front of him, ignoring his presence.

            Gareth seemed to have enough.  He grabbed her shoulder and whirled her around to face him.  “That is enough of your attitude!” He spoke barely above a whisper, but she could hear it- the restaurant had suddenly gone dead silent.  “You will obey my wishes, like a good fiancé should.”

            Kalika resisted the urge to spit in his smug face, and instead said logically,  “I’m not your fiancé.  You haven’t even purposed.”

            He narrowed his eyes and let go of her shoulder.  “You’re too much trouble.”  He seemed about to add something else, but was interrupted by the server’s return.

Kalika followed the uncomfortable server to a table on the upper tier.  She said to Gareth, out of the corner of her mouth, “You caused it.”

They sat and didn’t speak for a long while, until Gareth muttered that Kalika was being unreasonable.  “I’m being unreasonable?” She asked, shocked.

“Well, yes!” He said fiercely.  “You expect me to change, and I shouldn’t have to.”

Kalika looked at him, eyes wide.  She slowly shook her head.  “You are totally insane.  Of course I want you to change, I don’t even like you, and I’m supposed to marry you.  How do you think I feel, being told I don’t have a choice?”  She paused before adding, untruthfully, “I’m not even happy here.”

Gareth reacted as if he had just been slapped.  “I want to make you happy, but how can I?” Then, spitefully, she added,”You’re very difficult to deal with.”

Kalika glared.  “So are you.”

He smiled.  “True.”  He lost his smile and reached across the table to take her hand.  “Please, Kalika.  Tell me what I can do to make you happy.”

She looked from his hand; holding hers in so natural a way, then to his face, and then back again.  She took a breath.  “I need something that will entertain me.  I need a job; I need something to do when I’m bored.”

Gareth arched his eyebrow.  “Like what?”

She looked down at the level below, at all the commoners below.  She thought of them and their children, knowing they would always be dirt poor if she didn’t do anything.  She looked back at his face.  “I want to control an army- the Valkyrie army.”           

His eyes widened, taking on the appearance of the plates in front of them.  “The Valkyrie army?  Of all the armies to pick…”

She touched his cheek.  “They’re unpredictable and will keep me on my toes.  I’ve never liked blood, but I want something to do, and fighting seems to be the only entertaining thing to do around here.”

            He shook his head, eyes still wide.  “No, Kalika, no- they aren’t loyal at all, and have been known to kill their leaders if they don’t like the way they’re doing things.  Please, Kalika; I can arrange an army to be yours, or I can split mine and give you command of half-“ He was rattling on, and she almost thought he looked innocent with his eyes wide and fear-filled. 

            She interrupted his mindless rambling.  “Gareth…you say you love me…if you do, you’ll do this for me.”  She pouted, and she immediately saw his resolve falter.

            He looked at the white tablecloth, then back up at her.  “Kalika, I beg you- Reconsider, please.” She pouted some more and looked to the side, and felt her gaze shifting to the people below.  She heard Gareth sigh.  “Alright.” He said.  “But I can’t just hand the command over- you have to fight the current general for it.”

            “Who’s the current general?” She asked, abandoning her pout as quickly as she had adopted it.

            “Cavour Garibald.  He’s merciless, Kalika; in a one-on-one fight, he will not hesitate to kill you, chosen one or not.” He reached across the table and caressed her cheek.  “He is a good fighter.  In all honesty, I don’t think you have a chance.”

            Kalika smirked.  “What, you think I’m prophesized for no reason?  I can fight.”

            He shook his head.  “Not the Valkyrie style.  They’re a combination of everything- martial arts, kickboxing, fencing, even magic.  You don’t have any experience with magic; there is no possible way you could have, living on the mainland.  As for fencing, that is an art that has been dead there.”

            Kalika shrugged.  “I’m pretty good in the other two, though.”

            “Not as good as Garibald.  He may be a big, ugly old man, but he has years and years of fighting experience behind him.”  He looked at the ground, at the commoners and their meals of vegetables.  Kalika’s gaze followed his, and they were both looking down in silence, before Kalika spoke next.

            “I can get better, can’t I?  I learn fast.  Just give me a week of training in fencing and magic and-“

            “You can’t use magic, you’re from the mainland.”  He said, shaking his head.  “There is no magic there, and so you won’t have the skill for it.”

            She pouted and looked at him.  “Are you sure?  Can’t I at least try?”

            He smiled lightly, with kindness.  “You can try, but I am not guaranteeing anything.”

            She grinned and clapped her hands giddily, ignoring the feeling deep in her stomach that she was betraying him.  She was, in truth; she was planning a hostile takeover of his kingdom. 

            But he didn’t know that, and wouldn’t until it was too late. 

            The rest of the meal was unexciting and even dull.  There were two choices on the menu- fish and meat.  They weren’t big believers in bread, she supposed, and vegetables were just for the commoners, it seemed.  She asked for some soup and the blond server in a white jumpsuit with an apron didn’t have any idea what she was talking about.  She ended up ordering the same as Gareth, simply because she didn’t know what was edible.

            Their talk was mindless yet guarded, both trying to hide things from the other.  Kalika tried to conceal the fact that she was planning his ultimate defeat; Gareth was hiding the fact that he was returning to the battlefield the next day.  He knew he should tell her, simply because it was her right to know, but every time he thought of telling her, he ended up making odd, incoherent noises.  He resolved to tell her later.

            His mother, the Queen Ilonka, was urging her son to propose to the woman he barely knew.  Surprised when he refused, she had burst into tears and whined in a most annoying way.  However, through her tears she had made an excellent point- he was going to marry her either way, and if she said no there was always the knowledge she would eventually say yes.  It was destiny, and he had nothing to fear.

            They would eventually marry, no matter what Kalika believed; prophecy was never wrong.

            He watched as Kalika savored every bite of her food, an odd meaty thing, and he barely touched his own.  After she was finished, he took her hand and vowed, “I am going to try to be a better man, so you will marry me.”

            Kalika’s brow furrowed.  “Is it that important?  We just met, and you really aren’t my type, though I can’t deny you have a weird attractiveness about you.  We don’t have to marry…”

            Gareth shook his head no.  “We must marry, it is prophecy.” At the mention of prophecy, Kalika looked to the ground floor again, a habit he noticed she was developing.  “I’m not going to ask you now; I know you would refuse.  But please keep in mind that I want to be a better man, and I am going to try to be.”

            Kalika slowly nodded.  “Alright.”

            “I love you.” He said.

            She pretended she didn’t hear.

                                                           

            Gareth dropped off Kalika at the palace before he apologized profusely.  It would take a week for Cavour Garibald to make his way to Xandretta, and in that time Kalika would train for the pivotal fight.  Gareth had to make arrangements with locals to come to the palace and train her as well as get the message to Garibald.  He then rushed off, yelling from the back of the stagecoach that he would be back in time to eat dinner with her.

            She didn’t care, in all honesty.  The feeling of love she had towards him hadn’t faded, but changed- it wasn’t as romantic as it had been.  This was probably because Gareth had been an absolute rude, smug prince ever since they had met, and this was a major turn-off to her.  She slowly made her way towards her room, then changed her mind, opting instead to visit the gardens on the south side of the palace.  She ran out, the leather pants prohibiting her usual running abilities, and making her run like she was retarded.  The sandy-haired messager, who was reading a book under a large willow tree, saw her and laughed.  She slowed and sauntered up to him.  Now that she was closer, he was no longer laughing, or even smiling.  She bent over and took the book from it, looking at its spine.  

            “Moby Dick?  Isn’t that a little advanced for you?  You look about twelve…”

            The sandy-haired boy frowned and snatched his book back.  “I am thirteen!”

            “Sorry.” Kalika said, stepping back.  “Who are you, by the way?”

            “I am Gareth’s messenger boy.” He said, returning to his book.

            “Yeah, but have you got a name?” She asked, kneeling next to him.  The grass was like silk under her feet, and the shade was a cool escape from the hot sun.

            The boy sighed and put his book on his lap.  He looked up, innocent blue eyes looking into Kalika’s own.  “My name is Darren.” 

            She tilted her head slightly to the left.  “Why do you carry messages back and forth, Darren?”

            He shrugged.  “It is what all children with good memory do.”

            “Why children?”

            He shrugged.  “Mostly because it gives my parents extra money.  We’d be very poor without me working for Gareth.  It is easy and I do not mind not being able to see my mother or father until weekends.  Another reason is that when we ride horses they don’t tire as quickly as they do with adults.”

            “Oh.”  Said Kalika.  “Do you remember every message Gareth has given you?”

            Darren shrugged his narrow shoulders and regarded her suspiciously.  “I remember most of them.”

            Kalika thought a moment, then asked, “Do you think, that if I gave you some jewelry to take home to your mother, that you could remember some of the ones dealing with the Dark Riders?”

            The boy smiled slowly, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.  “Like, a bribe?”

            Kalika flinched at the use of the word “bribe”, and glanced around.  “Well, yeah, I suppose you could call it that.”

            The little boy burst into a grin.  “I am sure she’d like the jewelry, but I think she would like to meet you a lot more.”

            Kalika nodded and stood, brushing her knees off.  “Then I’ll meet her, but only if you inform me of any missions he sends you on- I need to know all about the Dark Riders as well as what Gareth’s army is doing.”

            Darren nodded.  “I just got back from telling Gareth’s general to wait to attack a magical block until Gareth got there.  The general agreed, and his army is about twenty miles from the magical block that forms Zulai’s border.”

            Kalika’s brow furrowed.  “Do you know when he’s going back to his army?”

            “Tomorrow.  I have to go with him- my mother is very scared for me, but she can’t cancel the contract she has with him.” Darren looked sadly towards the east, to the servants’ quarters at the very edge of the property.  “I barely see her, and she lives with me in the slave quarters!  It is because I am always busy running messages back and forth.”
            Kalika hugged Darren.  He attempted to push her away, but he then sank into her hug.  As she hugged a child that was too mature for his age, she realized it all came down to Gareth.  People had sunk so low as to make their children servants just to pay the bills, and it was all Gareth’s fault.  He was the merciless Prince that was butchering thousands on the battlefield, and he was the one that allowed all the injustices to roam free.

            There, on a grassy knoll under a willow tree with a servant in her arms, she realized she would do everything she could to give the people of Atlantis all they deserved.  Her love for Gareth notwithstanding, she would stop him.

            And so, a line was drawn.  The old Kalika was mostly gone, as well as all her traits- greed, self-denial, superficiality, injustice; replaced by those of the real Kalika, the one that Atlantis itself had needed for hundreds of years.  The real Kalika was all that the old one hadn’t been- just, good, kind, honest…and attentive to the feelings she had shunned before.  Her mother would have been proud- her stoic daughter was finally finding her place in life amongst robots, intrigue, war, tragedy, injustice, and conspiracies.

            The true Kalika was born.  And the baptism in fire was to come.

 

                                                                        Six

            The answer from the lab in Gardena came back too slowly for Dahlia’s tastes.  She was in the middle of an act with a client when there was a knock on the door.  It was David, and she had to rush the client to finish.  He collapsed on top of her and she wriggled out, curling her lip in disgust.  Her pay financed the Dark Riders’ budget when Romulus couldn’t donate, but she truly wished she could relax and get a normal job.

            Kevin handed the roll of parchment sealed with wax to her before he was swept away by another prostitute for not being a customer.  After collecting her payment, she kicked her client- a middle-aged, ugly man that always asked specifically for her- out the door. 

            The DNA results matched with what the seer, Lalita, had prophesized they would be.  Back then DNA typing was a new discovery, and Lalita had somehow pushed her skills to the limits and wrote down as much of the DNA chain as she could- a total of 1,347 combinations of A, G, C, and T.  How she did this, no one knew, but it simply added to Lalita’s amazing skill.

            The two- Kalika’s DNA from the hair, and the DNA Lalita had foreseen, matched perfectly. 
            Dahlia sat back, parchment in hand, as she stared into space.  This assured the woman wasn’t a fake, and Dahlia’s curiosity rose a few notches.

            Perhaps Kalika was the real thing, and not an impostor.  If so, Dahlia thought, It would be a very interesting next few months.           

 

When Gareth arrived back at the palace late that night, it was with news that fit into both the good and bad categories- Cavour Garibald had agreed to the duel which would determine who ruled the Valkyrie army, but he would be arriving sooner than all expected- in three days.  He would bring an arsenal of Valkyries with him, all wishing to see the famed Kalika. 

            Gareth, knowledgeable in things such as duels, had ordered all the blacksmiths to create a breastplate for Kalika.  He decreed that whichever smith created the breastplate Kalika wore into the duel would get a prize of several hundred gold coins.

Already, mere hours after he had issued the order, cartloads of breastplates were pouring in. They were all exquisite, with designs like the ones in the Temple.  Some were inlaid with rubies, but these did not arrive until the following morning.  The ones that streamed in that night were relatively simple metal with designs across it.  Some, however, she had to turn down simply because they assumed she was a man- there were no place for her breasts.  Sure, her chest was small, but she wasn’t flat, for God’s sake.

            Kalika insisted that numerous objects be brought in from the mainland- A treadmill, punching bags, exercise bikes; all a girl would need to be in shape for the fight of her life.  It was a good thing she’d ran everyday before she arrived in Atlantis, otherwise she would be in a great deal of trouble, as she would be direly out of shape.

            The days passed too quickly for Kalika- Gareth had agreed to stay until she won the fight (He was using the word “won” because he refused to accept the possibility that she would lose) and she underwent a quick training course in fencing as well as some basic levels of magic, taught by Harvey.  She was already skilled in boxing from spending a short time in Detroit one summer. 

            Fencing, as Kalika discovered, was about agility and grace more than strength.  As she haltingly defended herself against Gareth’s advances, he briefed her on Cavour’s fighting style.  Cavour depended mostly on his strength and large bulk to win a fight, and this was his weakness.  Gareth urged her to use it to her advantage and be more agile than he.

            Fortunately, she was naturally agile.  As soon as she had picked up the sword, she had felt free and at peace.  She naturally dodged several of his attacks, but when he feinted, she always fell for it, which became a joke between them. 

            Harvey attempted to teach her some spells, and to his amazement, she did a few.  Her skill was mostly in fire magic, for any other kind of spell made her confused, dizzy, and drained; as well as the fact she could not do any of them.  Harvey finally gave up trying to teach her a spell to send a lightning bolt from her hand to her opponent and resigned to fire magic.

            She had once been a bit of a pyromaniac, so having skill in dealing with fire didn’t surprise her.  When she wasn’t training with Harvey or Gareth, she ran on the treadmill, making one of the robots read a book to her.  Listening wasn’t as good as reading it, but she found herself just as immersed in the story.  Following Darren’s example, the robots read her Moby Dick.

By Thursday morning, the day of the fight, she had mastered all the spells dealing with fire, to the great thrill of Harvey. 

            “I still can’t believe you can do any spells- maybe you are the exception to the rule as an object of a prophecy.  Or maybe…” He shrugged.  “Maybe there really are magical pockets in the mainland.  It’s just concentrated in Atlantis- maybe on the mainland it exists, but a little more spread out.”

            Kalika, in need of a long nap before the fight at sundown, simply nodded as she walked out of the room they’d used as a training space.  The floors were scorched black, as well as the walls.  The ceiling was more or less intact, but the paint had peeled off it, revealing small metallic objects that were ingrained in it.  After the spell that had peeled the paint off, she had asked Harvey what the metallic objects were, only to be told they were what lit the rooms, placed throughout Atlantis as a light source as abundant as the light bulb in the mainland.

            A knocking at the door wakened the exhausted Kalika.  Crossing to it, she felt her legs were stronger after days of rigorous training, and she did a few senseless whirls before opening the door.

            Darren stood there, and she quickly invited him in.  “Cavour is here, and he wants to dine with you before he kills you- and those were his exact words.” Darren shifted on his feet.  “I’m scared for you, Kalika.”

            She nodded, then smiled fakely.  “No reason to be- I’m going to be alright.”

            Darren gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her before asking, “Did you find a breastplate?”   

            Kalika snorted.  “They all were too fancy or too simple.  I finally decided on one that I hated the least- over there.” She pointed to the large meeting table.  It was a gleaming silver that sparkled when the light hit it- mostly because it was inlaid with diamonds.  Two thigh plates of matching silver lay next to it.  Darren’s eyebrows shot up as he examined it. 

            “This is quality work.”

            She nodded.  “I suppose.  But it doesn’t have that style, that panache that something like this should.”

            Darren nodded.  “It should be magical, and this isn’t.”  He turned to her and slowly withdrew a breastplate from under his shirt.  “This is.”

            Kalika slowly took the breastplate in her hands and examined it.  It wasn’t like any metal, but a silky smooth black.  When she turned it sideways, designs upon designs sparkled.  At closer look, she saw the designs were symbols that curled in and out of each other. 

            “They’re runes, I think.” Said Darren.

            “Runes?” She said absently, as if from far away.  “Darren…Where did you get this?”

            Darren smiled proudly.  “Katrina the witch gave it to me.  She said to bring it to you as fast as I could, and I did.”  He suddenly looked anxious.  “Do you like it?”

            “Like it?” She asked incredulously.  “It’s beautiful.”

            Darren grinned.  “She will be glad to hear you said that.  She said she has been watching you, and believe you are the real thing- she also adds that the armor will increase your strength tenfold, since she knows you aren’t very strong in the arms.”

            Kalika hugged Darren and grinned happily.  “Thank you, Darren!  And thank- what was her name?”

            “Katrina.”

            “Yes,” Said Kalika.  “Definitely thank her.  Now, tell me- is Gareth leaving after today?”

            Darren nodded.  “He is leaving tomorrow at sunrise, to ride to the camps near Zulai.  He has determined it has been a long enough delay.  All the wizards that have agreed to help in breaking the magical blocks have arrived, and the General there is quite annoyed about Gareth’s delay to watch a duel.” He smiled shyly.  “I told him it was between Kalika and Cavour, and he whistled, calling it a hard match.”

            “A hard match?”

            Darren nodded again, losing his smile.  “It means that it is a very equal match- like a master versus a master or a beginner versus a beginner.

            “Oh.  Thanks Darren- Go visit your mother a bit before you go tomorrow.” She said, looking out the window.  She hoped she was good enough to beat Cavour.  If not, she would have to resort to taking part of Gareth’s army, and they were all loyal to him.  She didn’t want to have to resort to that.

            Darren bounced off, and Kalika made a silent vow to personally stop all servitude in Depla, if not all of Atlantis.

           

            She was terrified.  Before the duel, she had to have a civilized dinner with the man she was supposed to kill.  This didn’t really make sense to the tired Kalika, who figured “Civilized” and “Duel” were just two words that didn’t go together.  However, she did dress for the occasion- an off-white corset and a matching skirt with slits up each side.  Her movement was unrestricted, unlike with the leather pants.  Then, she realized she had to deal with strapping on the thigh plates after the dinner, and realized that would be rather difficult with a skirt.  So, sifting through the wardrobe she found a dark brown leather skirt that reached to mid-thigh.  Figuring that would have to do, she grabbed a simple brown shell necklace and put it on, smiling to herself in the mirror.  She didn’t look like a Princess, but a fierce warrior, which was the effect she was going for.  She still hated the color brown, though.

            She nodded to herself and looked at the door, which had just been knocked on.  Figuring it was anyone other than Gareth, for he never knocked, she opened it while she was attempting to use the hair-straightener one of the robots had given her to tame her unruly waves.  She arched her eyebrow when it indeed was Gareth, clad in his usual color of black.  He smiled and gave an odd look at the straightener before saying with a flourish, “I knocked.”

            Kalika rolled her eyes and snorted.  “Congratulations.  You’ve finally adopted the manners that all normal people have.” She turned away in time to miss seeing the sad look on his face, and made her way to the dresser.  “Give me one minute and I’ll be done.”

            He nodded and stayed his distance, much to her joy.  She didn’t want to be too close to him for fear that she would reveal the secret that she wanted to kick him off his throne and place him in a dungeon himself.  She loved him, true, but no one had the right to do such injustices as he himself had done.

            And so, Kalika finished doing her hair and smiled at its straightness, wanting to reward the robot in whichever ways robots were rewarded.  A glance at Gareth revealed his impatience.  He cast her a dark look.  “A brown skirt.  That means you are the underling.”

            “No, “ Kalika replied.  “It means I don’t know I’m not the underling.”

            At Gareth’s puzzled expression, she slipped her feet into some sandals.  “It’s called humility, your highness.  I don’t expect you’ve ever felt the emotion.”

            She brushed past him, halfway down the stairs before he moved from his position next to the meeting table.  He shook his head and grabbed the armor that had been laid out- the thigh plates and the magical breastplate, tucking them under his arm.  He descended the stairs so slow Kalika tapped her foot impatiently to wait for him.  She only waited because she had no idea where the dining room was- she had always had her meals delivered to her room.

            Gareth set the armor on an end table, and as Kalika passed it, her fingertips grazed it lovingly.  She looked back at its perfection and beauty, knowing that such magnificent work could never, ever be repeated.  She then followed Gareth to a set of double doors, and he waited as she caught up.  She took her time in walking, just to aggravate him.

            He frowned at her before he held the door open for her, and she nobly stepped inside, nose high in the air and smile playing at her lush lips. 

            The Cathedral ceiling was the first thing she noticed.  It was a dome ceiling that rose high into the sky, with various conditions of clouds painted across it.  On the East side, was the rising sun, with all the colors of morning-pink, yellow, and orange- making it seem absolutely real.  In the south side of the ceiling were groupings of storm clouds, then the slowly faded to white, fluffy cumulus clouds towards the North.  The west mirrored the east, only it was of the setting sun, and colors played across all the clouds in the entire painting, not simply a select few. 

            The walls were a reddish wood, and the floor was a blood-colored carpet.  The long table took up the length of the room, and Kalika sat on the head of it, making Gareth sit next to Cavour, who was already seated.  The table was adorned with foods of every type, and it was heaven to the hungry Kalika.

            Cavour was as they all had said- an aging old man with a big bulk.  The bulk was deceiving, for at first glance one assumed it was fat, but it was truly a mass of muscle.  Liver spots adorned his neck and hands, and his nose was abnormally small for his fat face.  His eyes were watery blue and beady, with a sly, calculating look behind them.

            She smiled at him when Gareth introduced the two, and Cavour smiled back.  She immediately began to pile her plate with food, which surprised the two men.  Cavour asked, guardedly, “Were you ever trained in table manners, Madame?  You pile food on your plate like a Viking.”           

            She smirked and dropped a large steak on her plate with a wet sound.  “A girl can’t eat like a man in this place?  I can fight like one, so I might as well eat like one.”  Her false confidence was easy to see through, but it was something the beady-eyed General didn’t scratch the surface of.

            “Well, you are very confident for a young woman; but I have had years of experience behind me, and I doubt very much you will win.” He smirked and looked at her breasts.  Her anger was fueled by the man’s grotesque manner, and she was about to respond in kind when Darren burst in the room, out of breath. 

            She looked at him quizzically, but the young boy ran straight for his master, and shared a few whispered words with him.  Gareth’s eyes widened, and he stepped back from the table.

            “Excuse me- I have a matter I must attend to.  I am afraid I cannot dine with you, but rest assured I will be present at the duel.” He flashed Kalika an encouraging smile as he left.  He bent down and whispered in her ear, “You will be fighting with pikes- you will do elegantly.  Good luck.” With that, he left.

            Cavour smirked.  “Now that we are alone, I have a proposition.” He folded his napkin and set it on his cleared plate.  Kalika munched on a bit of rib, almost choking with the amount of barbecue sauce on it. 

            When she got done with her coughing fit, she asked, “What would that be?”

            Cavour smiled, revealing two rows of rotting teeth.  Kalika flinched; glad she had the good sense to brush her teeth.  “As you know, I am a much better fighter than you.  But I have something you want, and vice versa.” He crossed the space and put his face close to hers.  His breath stank of rotting fish, though he had just eaten half a pound of pork.  “I want sex with the Prophesized one of Lalita.  You want the Valkyrie army-“

            He didn’t get to finish his sentence, for Kalika stood and threw her red wine in his large face.  He seemed to swell in size, and he spat at her feet.  “Fine.  Die, then.”  He stomped off in a melodramatic way that was most unbecoming. 

            She smirked and ate the last bite her rib.  Gareth then strode in, Darren at his heels.  He looked around, surprised.  “Where is Cavour?”

            She smiled angelically and he grimaced, guessing what had occurred.  “I should have told you- he never gets any from his army, so he’s always buying prostitutes and propositioning to women.”  He smiled approvingly.  “I am glad you refused.”          

            She rolled her eyes and tossed her head.  “Me too.  Where were you?”

            Gareth sighed and took her arm.  “The Dark Riders- they were causing trouble in Azur, and my allies there insist it is my responsibility to dispose of them.  I’d like to- but no one has turned in one Dark Rider so far-aside from the fake ones- even though we’ve offered anyone who did large sums of money.” He sighed and led her through the doors, Darren tagging along behind.  “I fear that I’ll have to resort to drastic measures.”

            “Drastic measures?” She questioned.

            He nodded.  “Unfortunately.  Purging.”

            Darren, who had remained remote this whole time, suddenly shuddered openly.  He looked to Gareth, but he misinterpreted as a look of question and not fear.  “Go, boy.  Be at my room at noon so we can leave.” Darren ran off, and Kalika grabbed her armor from the table on which Gareth had laid it earlier.  He continued.  “Purging would be the open killings and executions of all Dark Riders, without trial.”

            Kalika gasped and nearly dropped her armor.  She shifted the thigh plates to rest on top of the breastplate, allowing her to hold it in one arm- her left.  She placed her right on Gareth’s arm.  “You are not going to do that, right?”

            He shrugged and held open the last set of doors to the stone steps down the castle.  A white carriage awaited them.  “There’s really no choice.  They will lie low for a few years, and then start back up again.  I can’t really do anything else- there is no way to defeat them, their number is rumored to be in the hundreds of thousands.  But, the problem is the fact that I need a better reason than being a Dark Rider to execute them.  The Dark Riders are a legal organization, and are very respected.”

            Kalika stepped in the carriage, and glanced around.  It was better than the last, with a bottle of champagne and glasses in one corner.  The seats were a deep scarlet, and she plopped down with comfort on them.  She fitted her thigh plates on immediately, then moved onto the breastplate.  She realized with a jolt that there was no clasp, but when she lifted the metal to her chest and pushed against it, she felt tendrils of metal curl around her back in an intricate design.  She gasped and her gaze flew to Gareth, hoping he hadn’t noticed, and he hadn’t- he continued to ramble on.  She breathed a sigh of relief before she tuned into what he was saying.  The plate somehow boosted her spirit; Kalika felt like she could fly.  However, she didn’t dare to test that.

            “…And then, there is you and our wedding to deal with.  I know you don’t want to yet, but we really have no choice.  My mother is stressing me, and letters are pouring in throughout all of Depla, scolding me for not asking you yet- they are beginning to think I am afraid, and I cannot allow that, my dear.” He looked at her with those large brown eyes and felt the urge to tell him everything right there- Romulus, the Dark Riders, her plans- but she resisted and gave him a sharp look.  He sighed and looked away, his face sullen. 

            Kalika looked over at him and asked, “You said you can’t execute them for being Dark Riders.  What will you use, then?”

            He turned back; glad she was at least talking to him.  “Most Dark Riders are involved in illegal activities- prostitution, embezzlement, freeing of slaves without permission of master- I can easily make all of these death sentences.”

            Kalika raised her eyebrow.  “And you would let that many people die?”

            “For the sake of my country?  Of course.”

            Kalika stared at his profile blankly.  The sun was low in the sky, and it cast an orange hue on his nose and cheeks.  He looked incredible, true, but he was pure evil in Kalika’s opinion- a man with no morals or honor beneath a handsome face.  This was even more dangerous than a man that made his dishonorable ways known to the world; as Kalika knew personally- she was in love with him.  She sighed, giving in.  “Why are the Dark Riders involved with prostitution?”

            Gareth shrugged.  “They figure it is the one place we will not look.  They are wrong, obviously- we have known for ages that they use brothels as their meeting places.  We suspect this has something personal to do with their leader- when Luka Cole, a merchant, headed them, their meetings were always held in bars.  So, odd enough, we suspect their current leader to be a prostitute or an escort- something along those lines.” 

            “Why don’t you know the name of their current leader, if you know the name of their last one?” Kalika asked, nervously glancing outside.  They were entering Xandretta, and the sun was close to setting- she didn’t want to be late.

            Gareth noticed her nervousness and patted her leg.  “The Dark Riders are very secretive.  They only mention that someone was a member of their ranks if they were important and when they die.  Mere officers are not given the honor of the Dark Rider flag placed on their coffin.” 

            Kalika nodded slowly, her fear at a height unknown.  Finally, as the sun was about to set, they arrived in the same square she had made her speech.  This time, the raised platform was higher and larger.  The crowd itself was even larger, if such a thing was possible.

            Before they stepped out, Gareth took her by the shoulders.  “Listen to me, Kalika.  Do not let Cavour get first blood.  To the Valkyries, first blood is most important; it will be very hard to gain their respect if Cavour gets it, even if you kill him.  Do not let him get first blood, whatever you do.” He stepped out and offered his hand to her.  She peeked out of the door and her eyes took in the sight.

            Around the platform was a circle of women clad completely in gold.  Slung over their backs were numerous weapons- some carried bows, others carried long staves, and still others favored javelins and swords.  Their brown skirts came to mid-thigh, and their breastplates were a shining gold as bright as the sun.  Their faces were all tan, and their muscles were shockingly large for being women.  All parts of their bodies were muscled to the point of almost being disgusting.  However, their faces were calm, even amidst the excitement of the crowd.  Not one smiled, but their faces were passive. 

Kalika stepped out of the carriage completely, ignoring Gareth’s hand as usual.  He didn’t look as downtrodden as he usually did, but she slapped his hand from hers several times.  A blond Valkyrie with a bow slung over her shoulder saw this and whispered to the next- a brunette that was taller than the others.  The brunette arched her eyebrow as the blond tilted her head towards Kalika.  The two both smiled lightly, then returned to being stoic.

Kalika made her way to the platform after struggling through the crowd.  She stumbled face-to-face with Cavour, who offered her a large stick with a metal, sharpened end.  She stepped back, made sure everyone except Cavour and herself were off the platform, and nodded respectfully to him.  He ignored this gesture, and instead attacked viscously. 

Kalika blocked his first lunge, ending up with a broken weapon.  One side, her right, held the wood part of the pike, while the other held the other half.  The sharpened end of her pike was reduced to a small needle-like weapon with a wooden handle. 

She wasted her time with a flinch, and was thus hit from her right side.  Her attempt to block was pitiful; the wood part of the pike flew from her hand into the crowd.  She fell on her back, looking upwards.  She threw her only weapon- a metal needle, the remnants of a pike- to the far side of the platform. 

Kalika fell to the left and rolled, just missing Cavour driving the sharpened end of the pike to the exact place where her navel had been moments before.  A few Valkyries leaned in closer to see better, but others worked on holding the raging crowd back.  She shot up and elbowed him in the base of the spine. He stumbled a little as he whirled, bringing the pike down in a violent side slash from her right.  She dodged to the left, nearly falling off the platform.  As he advanced again, she rolled between his legs.  In mid-roll, she jammed upwards with the heel of her hand, hitting Cavour’s middle-aged groin.  She continued rolling, then sprung up and whirled, the metal part of the pike held in her hand. 

She grinned with ease as Cavour lumbered his large bulk towards her and feinted to the left.  She went right, but was stopped by the pike being driven into her navel, just below the intricate breastplate.  It went straight through, the bloody end sticking out of her back.  She yelled and stepped forward, raising the remnants of her pike and driving it into Cavour’s chest.  She gritted her teeth as he slowly let go of the pike, luckily not bringing it down with him.  She stumbled off to the side and broke first the front, then the back of the pike, leaving a section still inside herself. 

The night had fallen sometime during the fight, and the lamps glowed unnaturally bright.  She tilted her head to the sky and nearly kneeled in the pain.  Instead, she gasped a few times before she heard movement behind her, and she slowly turned around.
            Somehow, Cavour had only been stunned- the needle-like remnant had merely struck layer after layer of fat.  Kalika stepped back, and then raised her right hand, spreading the fingers like Harvey had taught her.  She concentrated on the balls of fire that lit the lamps, and grunted in concentration mixed with pain.  She was bleeding, her abdomen burned, and having a piece of wood inside her body was anything but pleasant.  She hesitated to take the wood out for fear of bleeding to death faster.  So, Kalika concentrated on the balls of fire that lit the street, in the glass cases of the lampposts.

The crowd, which had fallen silent when she had been stabbed, suddenly became quieter.  The Valkyries leaned forward and seemed to be waiting patiently for something incredible to happen. 

It did.  While Cavour was taking the blade from his fatty bulk, he turned to see Kalika, glaring insistently at him.  He began to charge her, but was abruptly halted by a wall of fire forming around his opponent.  Unable to slow himself, he charged straight through the wall of flames, his immense bulk easily catching fire.  He toppled on top of Kalika, who hadn’t been able to move due to her injury.  Cavour leapt off her as soon as he had thrown her to the ground, and screamed like a woman.  One of the valkyries threw Kalika her sword, and she caught it with her left hand.  Her other was still raised towards the fire wall, and she slowly brought it down, watching the flames return to their places within the lampposts.

Kalika stood like an arthritic person would, slowly and without ease.  Cavour was still screaming, but from far away to the dazed Kalika.  She stumbled a little, and when Cavour had put all the fire out by rolling all over the now-scorched platform, she put the blade to his throat.  He glared up at her.  “Do you yield?”

Cavour snorted, as did the many valkyries.  “This is a duel, to the death, get it?” Cried one of the valkyries.  Kalika pressed the blade closer to Cavour’s thick throat.

“Do- you-yield?” She repeated, with emphasis on every syllable.

Cavour slowly nodded.  “Good.” She spat, and stepped back before driving the sword into his right leg, pinning him to the platform.  At the outraged cry of both the valkyries and the crowd, Kalika tossed her hair at them and held her hand out to Harvey, to stop his ascent of the steps.  He halted, a bottle of potion in each hand.  Kalika addressed the crowd. 

“This is a duel.  But this man is already dead- his soul died when he killed his first man, probably in a duel just like this.  I know my beliefs are alien to you-“ A few valkyries rolled their eyes, “But do you think that maybe your country isn’t as well off as it should be because it is so quick to kill its enemies?” The crowd grew quiet.  Kalika began to feel herself slip away.  She leaned against the sword that held Cavour pinned to the platform for support.  She took a deep breath.  “I control the valkyrie army now.  But I am not going to kill everything in sight, like this man did.  I am going to do what this country needs.” Kalika felt herself begin to fall.  As her knees buckled, she yelled, with as much strength as the dying can, “I will change this world.”

Harvey rushed towards her and caught her before she fell.  He immediately applied disinfectant, and then slopped on some blood-clotting potion.  He waved his hand over the wound, concentrating on all foreign elements inside the young woman.  The result was the wood slivers floating with the smoking disinfectant, dissipating into the air.  With a yank, he freed the large wood piece from her body. 

            The blood began to spew out, but Harvey acted quickly, adding more blood-clotting potion.  During this, his consciousness phased out, ignoring the sounds of the crowd and concentrating only on Kalika.  As soon as the blood clot formed, he breathed a sigh of relief.  Over her hip bone, which he had to partially take off her skirt to reveal, he poured a yellowish, broccoli-smelling liquid.  This increased the rate her blood made red blood cells, to be sure she wouldn’t die after her wound was clotted.  Finally, he withdrew the same solvent he had applied to her abdomen days before and rubbed it gently on her.

            With a deep breath, he sat back and relaxed, looking up. 

            The whole of the crowd was silent, and some were clamoring for a view.  Gareth and a brunette valkyrie were squatting next to him, near Kalika’s head.  He nodded encouragingly, then motioned to two of Gareth’s servants to carry the sleeping beauty back into the carriage.  Gareth looked at him fearfully.  “Will she be alright?”           

            Harvey wiped sweat he hadn’t even known had formed away from his brow.  “She’ll be fine, milord.”  Harvey nodded to the valkyrie and asked, sneering, “Did she earn your respect?”

            She seemed amused at his anger.  “Someone that fights like that, and gives that speech after- what do you think?”

            Harvey shook his head.  “I never know with you valkyries.  You are all mad.”

            She smiled lightly, watching the servants put Kalika gently inside the carriage.  “We may be mad, but at least we are honest.”  She stepped forward, toward the crowd.  “I, Sara, can stand for the valkyries when we say, in unison-“

            The valkyries yelled, more or less together, “Kalika is our true General.”

            Sara smiled.  The ritual completed, she added to the crowd,“Your savior will return to you healed, very soon.  It is then that we will await her orders.”  The brunette stepped off the platform and led her soldiers down a side alley, to a hotel.

            Sara didn’t doubt that what her new General’s actions would be grand- and she did believe that the woman was sincere.  But the proverb, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely”, bothered the experienced valkyrie- no matter how good Kalika started off, she could always turn into something horrendous.

            Only time would tell.

 

                                                            Seven

            The next day, Kalika woke slowly.  Her initial reaction was the realization that her stomach didn’t hurt in the least- she lifted up her shirt and saw nothing but pale skin there.  Her next realization was that she was wearing clothes she hadn’t gone to sleep in, and the last epiphany was that Gareth was lying next to her, on her bed.

            With a yelp, she pushed him off.  He was fully clothed, thank God, and he hit the floor with a muffled noise.  A moment later he sat up and looked at her.  “What did I do?”    

            Kalika narrowed her eyes.  “Don’t sleep in my bed without my permission.”

            Gareth stood slowly and put his hand to his lower back.  “That hurt.”

            She kicked him in the stomach.  “Did that hurt, too?” At his pained expression, she smirked.  “Good.  Now get out of my room!”

            He slowly walked out, head low.  She realized she shouldn’t have been as rude, but waking up with someone in your bed was not a good experience- not unless you knew they had been there the night before.

            She slowly got up; amazed her stomach had healed so quickly.  Magic was amazing, Kalika concluded- she liked not feeling any pain, or having to look at ugly scars or scabs.

            After a shower that took less than five minutes, she found herself staring out her window at the city of Xandretta.  It was dawn, and the pink and orange from the sky shifted and danced on the limestone buildings.  The dark blue of night gave way to the light pinks, oranges, and yellows of the day.  Kalika watched in awe until the sun was higher in the sky, and with a jolt she got dressed.  After putting on a pink ensemble- pink corset and matching straight skirt- she found herself gazing at the bright outline of the Temple.  It stood out better than any of the other buildings, and was easily visible even ten miles away.  Kalika, seeming to come to a decision, turned to the robot that had just entered.  She asked it, “How do I get into Xandretta?”

            The robot whirred and replied mechanically, “Via the carriage trails.”

            She tilted her head, not wanting to have to walk the ten miles.  “How do I get a carriage to take me there?”

            The robot whirled, its appendages nearly knocking Kalika over.  “Follow me.” 

            She did as it demanded, and followed.  She looked at the little robot and resisted the urge to ask why it hadn’t called her “Will Robinson” yet, as the joke would be lost on the metal being.  She was led through the long hallways and down a ramp in the back.  A small metal building was where the robots were kept when they weren’t working, she saw.  The robot led her beyond that and to the eastern part of the palace’s property.  On the very edge were the servants quarters, busy even though it was just past dawn.  The wooden buildings were haphazardly constructed and the wood was slowly rotting- the roofs seemed to be caving in on themselves.

            It stopped at the doorway of one and motioned inside, then it took off, back in the direction of the palace.  She stepped inside, looking around. 

            If the outside was bad, the inside was worse.  The wood was actually truly rotting in here- the ceiling was nothing but a layer of slowly flaking wood.  As she stepped in, the people lying down or sitting immediately leapt to their feet.  He ignored them and stared openly at the dirt floor and beds of straw and cloth.  There were no mattresses or bed frames; there were simply little piles of straw and cloth on the floor.  There was an open toilet in the far back, and a basin filled with water served as sink.  She shook her head and looked to one man.

            “You live like this?”

            He nodded slowly and looked into her eyes a moment before looking back down.  She shook her head and looked at each of them.  “You live like this next to a place filled with such wealth, and you never rebel?”

            The same man that had nodded spoke.  “We do not rebel.  It is not our way.  We accept, like our ancestors did.” Kalika scoffed at this.

            “Well, back in the time of your ancestors, this place was modern!  At least you have plumbing…” She trailed off.  She then realized the men were all avoiding her eyes.  “Look at me.” She snapped.  “No one looks away from me in my presence, you understand?”  They obliged slowly and shyly, looking at her almost fearfully.

            “Good.”  She breathed.  “I came here for a carriage driver- the robot pointed me in here.  Does that mean anything to you?”          

            The men all nodded slowly.  “We’re carriage drivers,” said the same man as before.  She looked at him.  “Get some shoes on and show me where the stables are.”           

            He nodded and grabbed the coat all the carriage drivers wore.  She put her hand on his forearm.  “You won’t drive me.  Where are the stables?”

            All the men looked at her quizzically as she said this, and slowly the man that had spoken the most, a dark eyed man with blond hair, led her out after dropping his coat on the straw-and-cloth bed.  She tagged along behind him as he led her to the stables on the north end, near the trail to Xandretta.  He opened the large door for her, and she slowly stepped in, cautious of anything that would leap out at her.  Horses of every color were kept inside the stalls, and Kalika looked around seriously.  She hadn’t ridden a horse since she had been ten, but she refused to be carted around like the royalty everyone said she was.  She wanted to be an individual, not a faceless spoiled princess. 

            The blond man watched as she roamed the stable, finally setting her eyes on a white mare.  She was pretty, with large brown eyes that touched Kalika’s soul.  The mare made a huffing noise and pawed the ground, and Kalika turned to the blond servant.  “This one- I ask only that you saddle her.”

            The blond servant obliged, and within moments the horse was saddled.  Kalika hoisted herself up and grinned nervously.  The servant handed her the reins and said, “Her name is Tania.  She’s everyone’s favorite to ride.  Please be good to her, mistress.”

            Kalika smiled and winked.  “No problem.” She dug her heels into the horse’s flank, and Tania galloped off joyously.

            The blond servant shook his head as he watched.  “Gareth is in for a big surprise with that one.”  He said, smiling softly.  “She may yet set us free.” He grinned and began walking back to the servant’s quarters.  “It is very possible.”

           

            Kalika arrived at the Temple and tied the horse’s reins to a lamppost.  She patted Tania’s nose and ascended the steps, pausing only to wink at the bald man standing near the door. 

There were actually people inside this time, and the building wasn’t completely empty.  She avoided the small crowd of numerous families and knocked on the strip of wall that served as Romulus’ camouflaged door.  Within moments he answered, dark circles under his eyes.  He ushered her inside and up the steps to his apartment.
            “I was just going downstairs to the Temple.  Congratulations on beating Cavour.  I hear he’s recovering, and keeps swearing that he almost had you.” Romulus rolled his eyes and cast a curious glance at Kalika.  “Tea?”

            She shook her head.  “No thanks.”

            “Ah, myself, I always have to start my day with a few cups.  Atlantean tea is addicting, I am told.”  He sipped at a cup that was on top of the table, and wrinkled his nose.  “Hmm.  Cold.” He threw the tea into the basin and poured himself another cup from the kettle.  “I could talk about tea all day, but I suspect it is not what you came for.” He smiled slyly at her.  “Am I correct?”

            Kalika nodded slowly.  “What do I do now?  I have the Valkyrie army.  But what’s next?  Where do I go from here?”

            Romulus smiled and took a long swig of his tea.  “The next step is to have a meeting with the Dark Riders, and ally yourselves with them.”

            “What if I don’t want to ally myself with them?  They’re under a lot of siege lately, and Gareth is planning to purge them.”

            Romulus’ head whipped around, and he hastily set his tea on the table.  “Purge?  He is planning to purge them?”

            Kalika nodded slowly, and Romulus began to pace.  “My, my.  This is not good at all.  You are sure he is going to purge?”

            Kalika nodded again, and her brow furrowed.  “I get the impression it’s not done often?”

            Romulus snorted.  “It hasn’t been done in the history of Atlantis.  There have been threats of purging, but no king- or prince- has ever actually done it.  It is considered and absolute crime, something you only do when you are out of other options.”

            Kalika nodded and looked out the window, at the south side of Xandretta.  “He thinks he’s out of options.”

            Romulus smiled sadly.  “Well, at least we put fear in him.  I suppose that is asking enough.”  He lost his smile and looked at the palace ten miles away, its gold towers shining brightly in the sun.  He sighed sadly.  “Well, at least we know he is going to do it, then.  It is better to know now.  Did he say anything else to you?”    

            Kalika nodded slowly.  “He thinks the leader is a prostitute, so I think those places are going to be searched first.”

            Romulus snorted derisively.  “They don’t search.  They kill everyone there.  This is bad, this is very, very bad.  I need to find Dahlia immediately.  When did Gareth tell you all this?” He asked, grabbing a cloak from a hook near the door.

            “Yesterday- on our way to the fight.” Kalika watched him throw the cloak on.  “Dahlia…the black-haired woman?”

            Romulus nodded.  “Gareth is right- she is a prostitute.  Her income from that has given the Dark Riders enough money to fund most of their pursuits.  Along with my contributions, both have helped immensely.”  He went to a closet by the door and rifled through it.  He found what he was looking for, and tossed it to Kalika.  “Put that on.  You are coming with me.”

            Kalika’s brow furrowed as she unfolded the object.  It was a cloth with two parts, with a strip cut out for eyes.  A veil.  It was a Bedouin veil, black, and unlike the veils of Saudi Arabia that covered all of the face, it only covered the nose, mouth, forehead and cheeks, leaving the eyes free of cloth.  She fit it on, and it clashed horribly with her pink outfit.  Romulus tossed her a black cloak, and she put that on as well. 

            He smiled and reached out his hand.  “Shall we?”

            Kalika slowly made her way down the steps, careful not to trip on the too-long cloak.  She finally hitched the cloth up, and stumbled down the steps.  “Why am I coming, anyway, Romulus?” She asked as way of conversation.

            He shrugged and opened the camoulflaged door for her.  “It is mostly because to defeat Gareth, you have to ally yourselves with them, and this may be your only chance to meet Dahlia.  I suspect she will run to Gardena and set up shop there as soon as we give her this news, so this is your only chance.”

            “Is their army very big?” She asked in a whisper, moving quickly towards the back doors of the Temple.

            Romulus shook his head and whispered back, “No.  Their numbers have always been exaggerated.  It is very hard to get in, and they are only about five thousand.  They allied themselves with Zulai, which brings the two together up to ten thousand.”

            Kalika fiercely whispered, as he opened the back door for her, “How did the Zulai fight off Gareth’s army with that small a force?”

            Romulus stepped out into the fresh air and replied, in a normal voice, “The Zulai army used to number about twice that of Gareth’s- this was in our father’s time-“ Kalika had forgotten that Romulus was Gareth’s brother, and the use of “our father” brought this memory back.  He continued, leading her down a network of alleyways, “We were allied with the wizards in Xarda then- that is where all the wizards are sent to train- so our father used them against the Zulai army.  Later on, the Xardan wizards retracted their alliance, but the damage was done- most of Zulai had already been taken.  Xarda just signed an alliance with Zulai a few years back, which resulted in the magical blocks that line Zulai’s border.

            “Gareth wants to destroy these magical blocks, so whenever a wizard from Xarda returns back to Depla, he immediately moves in on them, offering them anything they want if they will just join him.  Most do, too.” He sighed and helped Kalika over a large mud puddle.  She almost resisted, but it was his cloak and she didn’t want to get mud on it just for the sake of politeness. 

            After a few more alleyways, Kalika found herself in front of another limestone building; only this one had pictures of naked women painted on the front.  She tightened the cloak around herself, and followed Gareth inside. 

Inside it was worse than the outside- sleazy men, old men, and young men were waiting in room to the right of the door, all looking around excitedly at the pictures of sexual positions on the walls.  The floor was worn, and the walls were anything but elegant- the wallpaper was peeling in most places. 

She followed Gareth to a clerk behind a window, writing something on a paper.  Next to the booth was a list of all women working that day- all with either exotic names like “Iliania” or to flower names, like “Dahlia”.  With a shock, Kalika realized where she was- a brothel, and the leader of the Dark Riders worked here.

Kalika listened as Romulus attempted to get the clerk to let Dahlia off work.  The clerk’s eyes roamed on Kalika, and he asked her to lower the veil.  Romulus grabbed her hand and said simply that a trade-off was not possible.  With a jolt, Kalika realized the clerk wanted to let Kalika work instead of Dahlia.  The clerk had wanted her to sub for Dahlia.  Kalika glared at the clerk after this realization.

 Finally, after a heated argument, he revealed himself as Romulus, the High Priest of Xandretta, as a last resort. 

The clerk immediately stood, erased “Dahlia” from the board next to the booth, and said, “She is with a client right now.  Please wait in there.” And to Kalika’s dismay, he pointed into the waiting room.

            Romulus and she sat down farthest from all the other men, and she busied herself with making sure her legs didn’t show at all, not wanting to give the men any ideas.  Obviously, one did, for a sleazy thirty-year-old man sauntered over to Kalika.

            “Hey babe,” He said, smirking.  “Want to go for a ride?”

            Romulus stood up at this, about to tell the man off, that this was his woman, when she stopped him.  She removed her veil, and she smirked when the man sank to his knees, begging for mercy.  She cast a satisfied look to Romulus before motioning the man to leave her sight.  She pulled the veil back on.

            Romulus whispered into her ear, “You should not have done that.  Now we have a roomful of witnesses.”

            Kalika giggled evilly. “Yeah.  But it was fun.”

            Romulus shook his head.  “You are going to be the death of me.”

            She grinned underneath the veil and elbowed him when she saw a weary Dahlia look exit the hallway with the bedrooms.  A middle-aged man with a haphazard comb over followed her, and he was attempting to negotiate a real date with her.  She waved him away, and her eyes fell instantly on the board with the names of prostitutes.  She exchanged a few words with the clerk, and then looked into the waiting room.  At the sight of Romulus, she winked.  She motioned to the two, and Kalika and Romulus rose, following Dahlia into the room in the far back.

            Here was a large meeting table surrounded by boxes.  Dahlia sat at the head of the table, facing the one door, and smiled at the two.

            “So?  What’s this all about?” She asked.

            Kalika threw off the veil, and placed it on the table.  She wiggled out of the cloak as well, as the heat in the building was unbearable.  She finally sat, choosing a seat on the right of Romulus. 

            Romulus explained the matter of the purges, and Dahlia’s eyebrow rose.  “I thought you would come here to discuss an alliance…”

            Romulus nodded.  “We are.  We are here for both.”

            Kalika nodded.  “I want to stop Gareth.”

            Dahlia grinned.  “Don’t we all?  I’m sure we can work something out right now- purges mostly take place at night, I am told.”

            “But I thought there has never been one?”  Kalika asked, looking to Romulus.

            “Oh, is that what dear Rommie said?  My, my.”  Dahlia leaned towards Kalika.  “Most purges never happen, but one did, and this one was done by the religious order of Xandretta.  Most of the religious people want to forget that, since hundreds of innocent people died.” Dahlia smirked at Romulus, darkly.  “They were trying to purge supernaturalism.  Quite a weird thing to do on a supernatural island, wouldn’t you say?”

            Romulus looked straight at Dahlia.  “That was years ago.”

            Dahlia shrugged.  “True.  But it still happened.  I believe the truth should always be told- so tell it, Romulus.” Her voice went hard at her last four words, and she looked at him sternly. 

            Kalika frowned at the two.  “So, the purges always happened at night?” Dahlia and Romulus both nodded.  “Alright then.  We won’t have to worry until nightfall, then.  So, let’s discuss this alliance.” 

            Dahlia shrugged.  “Standard alliance.  We band together to defeat Gareth’s army.  When we do, we give each other aid when each other needs it.  You help us free the slaves in Azur, and we help you with whatever things you deem worthy of using an army to do.”

            Kalika smiled and stretched out her hand.  “Sounds good to me.”

            Dahlia took it her face serious.  “Just don’t turn crazy and start killing people left and right.  I like you,” Dahlia slowly shook the other woman’s hand.  “But I won’t hesitate to kill you if that is the key to victory.”

            Romulus clapped his hands.  “Alright.  That is done-“

            “No, it’s not.” Said Kalika.  She released Dahlia’s hand and looked at her squarely.  “Romulus said this would probably be the last chance for me to meet you, so I want to work out some sort of plan.”

            Dahlia shook her head no.  “I’ll be in touch.  We best not plan anything now- I’ll talk with the Dark Riders- I am going to call an emergency meeting and tell them to get out of-“

            Dahlia didn’t finish, for the door was broken down by a giant of a man dressed all in black.  He brandished a sword, and as the three seated began to move towards the door to the outside, another man appeared through that door.  The three looked back and forth, from one man to the next.  Kalika hastily pulled the veil over her face to make sure neither man say her face.  The three looked at each other warily as the first man spoke

            The man’s face was hidden by a black mask, and he spoke in a gruff, violent voice. “Dahlia Mallory.  You are under arrest for prostitution.” His gaze switched to Romulus.  “Romulus Scipio, you are under arrest for embezzlement of Temple wealth.” As his eyes fell on Kalika, he said, “And you are ordered to take off your veil.”

            Kalika didn’t Romulus’s furious whisper of “Don’t!” to decide.  If she revealed her identity, she would lose everything- the Valkyries, the alliance, her secrets to Gareth- Everything depended on not revealing her face.

            At her insistent, “No.” to the masked man, he snapped his fingers and two smaller sized men advanced on the cornered Kalika.  She jumped into the air, grabbed the wooden rafter above her head, hoisted herself up, and kicked both men in the face.  She climbed onto the rafter, crouching for a moment before tackling the masked man at the back door. 

Dahlia punched the first man in the face just as Kalika tackled the other.  Dahlia found herself involved in a well-matched fistfight; her opponent had been trained well.  Kalika knocked her man out in a second, and she peeked her head out the door into the alley.  She turned and yelled, “It’s clear!  Let’s go!”

Romulus took over fighting the first masked man, and Dahlia stepped back as Romulus yelled to both women, “GO! Get out!  I will be right-“ He punched the man in the face, dislodging the mask long enough to see he was a redhead.  “-Behind you!  Dahlia, you two are too valuable!  Go!”

The two women ran, leaving the sounds of fighting behind them.  The two headed to the left, but when a group of men on horses appeared, cutting them off, the two turned to the right side of the alley, also blocked by masked soldiers.

Dahlia was overcome with dismay.  “We’re so dead!”

“I beg to differ.” Said Kalika, withdrawing a rope from the pocket of Romulus’ cloak.  She twisted into the proper knot, whirled it over her head like a cowboy, and smiled when the limestone statue on the roof of the next building caught it.  Kalika tested it a moment, then, seeing the advancing groups of soldiers, she climbed up as fast as her body would allow.  Dahlia followed closely, whispering the “Hail Mary”.  With a jolt Kalika realized Dahlia, too, was not from Atlantis.

Kalika climbed atop the roof with ease, patting the head of the limestone statue of what looked like a rendition of Venus.  Dahlia quickly followed, and withdrew a knife from her boot.  When Kalika glanced down, she realized why Dahlia was cutting the rope- the men were halfway up the rope, and were closing the distance. 

Dahlia frantically cut the rope while Kalika looked around the rooftop.  The next building was lower than theirs, and the one after that was the size of a small skyscraper.  Alleys or roads distanced all other buildings; so jumping from their current one to those was impossible. 

With a cry of triumph, Dahlia finished cutting and turned to face Kalika.  She stood next to her and with a shock, realized why Kalika was gazing down at the next building.  “No!  I am not jumping that, I-“

A rope had just curled around the statue again, and the two watched as it was tightened.  Kalika looked at Dahlia, shrugged, and took a deep breath.  Kalika removed the veil from her face, backed up several feet, and ran forward, jumping off the ledge.  Dahlia watched as Kalika landed with a roll on the next building.  She motioned to Dahlia, who took the same deep breath, and ran straight towards the ledge. 

It was five feet, three feet, two feet, one foot- then Dahlia jumped, soaring through the air.  She landed the same way Kalika had, rolling.  The limestone roof scratched her bare arms, and Dahlia grunted.  She squinted up at Kalika, the sun in her eyes.  “C’mon.” Said Kalika, offering her hand.

The building they were on was a mere story high, and Kalika negotiated Dahlia into jumping the eight feet to the street.  The main street they fell into was busy, with excited merchants yelling, “Fish! Fish!” or “Apples!  Apples, here!”

Kalika and Dahlia walked as inconspicuously as possible away from the brothel and the men in masks.  Beside the wary Kalika, Dahlia was muttering incomprehensibly.  Then she said to Kalika in a normal volume, “They never purge in daylight.”

Kalika, still regretting leaving Romulus, muttered, “They just did.”

Dahlia sighed and looked ahead and to the left.  “That shop- I need to go in there to tell one of my people what has happened.”

Kalika looked towards the Temple, where the horse Tania was waiting.  “I better get back to the palace.  How will I contact you?”

The other woman was already heading away.  “Don’t worry about it!” With that, Dahlia was gone.

Kalika was left alone in a world that was hunting her newest allies. 

 

After a long ride back on Tania, she dismounted the horse and gave her to the stable boy, a ten-year-old with scrawny arms and legs.  Aware it was almost noon, she walked the rest of the way to the palace, knowing she had to keep Gareth in Depla somehow.  She couldn’t let him leave- his own brother was sure to be executed.  Sure, the two men hated each other; but somewhere, deep in her soul, Kalika felt that there was brotherly love in both of them.

She rushed up the steps and collided with Darren.  She took the boy by his shoulders.  “Where is Gareth?” She asked fiercely.

“He’s in your room, I think he is waiting for you.”

Kalika threw the door open with flair, and rushed up the stairs to her room.  The door was open, and she slowed and looked inside.

Gareth was sitting on her bed looking at the wardrobe silently.  She cautiously approached him.  Feeling words would be best used at this point, she said nervously, “Are you alright?”

Gareth turned he head slightly.  “I ordered the purges.”

Kalika obviously already knew this.  “They got your brother.”

Gareth slowly nodded.  “I know.  They said there were two women with him, in a brothel.  One was Dahlia, and the other was masked.  My men later found the mask on a rooftop the women used to escape.  A hair was found on it- I do believe they are scanning the DNA right now.”

Kalika cursed herself for her stupidity.  She shouldn’t have thrown the veil off on the rooftop, but somewhere on the street.  Gareth was continuing, however.  “It is alright, though.  I know who the other woman was.”

Kalika’s blood ran cold.  She struggled to keep her voice unemotional.  “Do you?”

He stood and looked at her.  “Why, Kalika?”

She shivered and shook her head.  “Gareth I’m-“

He interrupted her.  “Why would she?  My own mother…”

Kalika felt her eyebrows reach her hairline.  “Your mother…”

He paced around the room, making movements with his hands as he talked.  “I knew she did not approve of this, but I’m her son, how could she do such a thing?  It is horrible- she went against me and Depla, her own country…”

Kalika looked at Gareth, shocked.  “You think your mother was in league with the Dark Riders?”

He shrugged, looking out one of the windows.  “Makes sense.  She didn’t meet me for lunch, like we’d planned, then she goes back to her palace on the north side of Xandretta just when I heard about the two women.  It makes sense…” Gareth whirled and walked towards the door.  “I will just go cancel the test, I know it is her, there is no point in wasting-“

“Wait!”

Gareth turned.  “What?” 

Kalika took a deep breath.  She had two choices- let the fault fall to the Queen, or take the fall herself.  Whoever took the fall would be executed.  Kalika ditched her self-preservation and said strongly, “I did it.”

            He took a step back.  She continued.  “I did it, Gareth.  I took the Valkyrie army because I wanted to stop this war and all the people you kill.  This war is stupid, and I think the only person that doesn’t see that is you.”  She looked into his eyes, which looked truly hurt.  “I’m sorry Gareth.  Your mother wasn’t there today.  It was me.”

            He looked at her a moment, then took a step forward and slapped her across the face.  Her head nearly was knocked off, and she blinked back tears while Gareth said angrily, “Do not try to take the blame from my mother.”

            Kalika looked at him firmly.  “I was there, Gareth!  Execute me, not her- she’s innocent!”

            Gareth pushed her away.  “Kalika, let it go.  She betrayed her country and me.  She has to be executed.”

            She grabbed his arm as he was heading out.  “Gareth, let them do the DNA test, you’ll see it was me, I swear it-“ He hit her across the face and threw her to the ground.  She landed on her tailbone painfully, with a muffled thump.  She thought viciously, You’ll regret that.

            She looked up at him.  He glared down almost hatefully.  “I am not going to let them analyze it.  I know it is my mother.  Don’t ever say, ever again, that it is not.”  With that, he stormed out.

            She watched him leave and sighed, head in her hands.  An innocent woman was going to die because of her foolishness.

 

            Darren came by later on, bringing word that both the Queen and Romulus were going to be hung in the same town square in which Kalika had fought and given the speech.  When she asked when, Darren said sullenly, “You don’t want to know.”

            “Yes I do, Darren.  When?”

            He sighed and looked at the ground.  “This afternoon- at three.”

            Kalika’s eyes fell on the only clock in the palace, in her room.  She had insisted she have one- she couldn’t understand those weird sundials.  It was close to two.  She looked to Darren.  “He just found out a few hours ago!  How can he execute them so quickly?”

            Darren shrugged and sighed.  “It is the way purges work.  Anyone caught is executed the same day, guilty or not.”

            Kalika narrowed her green eyes.  “We shall see.  What hotel are the Valkyries in?”

            Darren looked at her.  “The Setting Sun Hotel.  What are you going to do?”

            She grabbed a black cloak from the wardrobe.  “The right thing.”

 

            Kalika arrived at the Setting Sun Hotel twenty minutes after her conversation with Darren.  She tied the reins of Tania to a lamppost and stepped into the Hotel. 

            For hotel, it looked suspiciously like an inn.  There was a bar to her left and tables were set out, with women lounging in them.  They were all valkyries pretty much, and when she stepped in the room, it went quiet.

            She stared at them, and they stared back.  “I need you.” She said to them.
            The blond sitting at the table nearest to her offered her hand.  “I am Sara.  It is nice to meet you.  I was Cavour’s second in command.”

            Kalika took her hand and shook it.  “They’re purging the Dark Riders, the people I’ve just allied with.  One woman is innocent.”

            “Who is that?  The innocent one?”

            “Queen Ilonka- her son is accusing her of treachery.” Kalika motioned to the others.  “We have less than an hour.  Romulus is being executed as well, and he is both my friend and ally.  I ask you to be my army.”

            Sara looked at her quizzically.  “We already are your army- you don’t need to ask for it.”

            Kalika looked back at her, arching her eyebrow.  “I’d rather have an army that respects me and vice versa, not just something to command.”

            The Valkyries muttered amongst themselves at this, and Sara regarded her respectfully.  “We shall be your army.”

 

            Romulus was in a cell adjacent to his mothers’ closest to the city square.  There were others there- a group of rebellious teens that had been accused but really had nothing to do with the Dark Riders, the redhead that had been at the last meeting, and, of course, Queen Ilonka.  She was sitting as nobly as she could in an open-toilet cell, her brown hair behind her in a plait.  Her eyes were red from crying, but she had long since stopped that. 

            “Mother.” Romulus said quietly.

            Her eyes focused on him.  “Yes?” She had always been more guarded around him than Gareth- the son she had spoiled with presents and such.  Romulus was the child she had ignored, and now she had no choice but to pay attention to him.

            “He is going to kill us.”

            She looked away.  “No he won’t.  I am his mother- he simply cannot kill me.”

            Romulus stood up, anger showing on his soft features.  “Don’t you have any comprehension of what kind of a man Gareth is?  He is a vicious, spoiled, immoral brat, and you raised him to be that way.  You brought this upon yourself.”

            Ilonka stood angrily, her hoop skirt bouncing as she did.  “Gareth is spoiled?  You got the honor of High Priest-“

            “All second born princes do, mother!  It is tradition; it is nothing you gave me.  Tell me, mother, tell me one thing out of twenty years that you gave to me because you loved me.” He went closer to the bars, looking at her fiercely.  “You didn’t love me, this I know.  I accepted that a long time ago.  But did you ever give me anything- a toy, a hug, a look- that was out of your duty as a mother, from the maternal part of you that you always showed to Gareth?”

            She looked at the floor.  “No.”

            “Exactly.” Said Romulus.  “You never gave me anything that wasn’t because father told you to, or if it wasn’t tradition.”

            After a few moments, when Romulus wondered if she had missed the point, she looked up at him, tears in her eyes.  “Romulus…I am so sorry I couldn’t be a real mother to you.  You deserved more than that.  And I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it until now.” She reached her hand through the bars.  He did the same, and luckily the aisle between them was so tapered, for their fingers touched comfortably.  They held hands a moment, then smiled at one another. 

            A clang was heard as the metal door to the outside banged open.  The mother and son sprang apart, and looked at the advancing man fearfully.  The teenagers began to sob uncontrollably, and the redhead seemed to merely see through everything, not taking anything in. 

            The large man was about six-five, with arms and legs the size of tree trunks.  His hair was slicked back with oil, and his face was crusty with dirt and sweat.  He stank, Romulus noticed, as the man opened his cell and pushed him forward.  Romulus calmly walked towards the door, where two ensigns tied his hands behind his back.

            This was repeated with every prisoner, with the Queen after Romulus, then the redhead, then the three sobbing teens.  They resisted more than the adult prisoners, and were soon knocked out by the giant of a man.  He slung them over his shoulder and didn’t bother to duck when he exited the jail-like building, and the girl’s nose hit the frame of the door with a cracking noise.  She woke up screaming, and one of the soldiers took her off the big man’s back and placed a bandanna around her mouth.  She was crying furiously, and one of the soldiers whispered to his friend, asking if he could take her home with him, and let them execute only five people, not six. 

            The big man grunted in response, nodding slightly.  The soldier grinned and led her back to his home in a limestone apartment building not far away.  Romulus watched the poor girl scream and kick at the soldier, but she couldn’t do much- she was tied up and gagged.  Her screams were muffled, and they came out like little screeching noises.  Romulus was pushed forward into the main square, and he never saw the girl again            Romulus was pushed headfirst into the crowd.  Images of commoners, nobles, and religious men yelling and threatening the ex-High Priest bombarded his mind.  Some children threw the vegetables they’d saved from dinner at the chained Romulus, and by the time he found himself on the platform, he had a montage of unidentifiable stains on his shirt.

            The Queen was getting it worse than Romulus.  Apparently, the Queen’s involvement with something as illegal as prostitution (For that was the reason they gave behind her seizure, as well as resisting arrest) was a personal insult to the people of the crowd.  When she reached the risen platform, with nooses dangling in the warm ocean-scented breeze, the Queen was riddled with bits of vegetables and such.  Bits of zucchini littered her neat braid, and she found herself close to tears.  The other prisoners were relatively unscathed; the redhead was attempting to shake bits of potato shavings from her hair, and the two teenage boys were glaring malevolently at the crowd. 

            A soldier pushed Romulus toward the nooses.  He obliged, standing on a wooden crate.  As soon as the prisoners had done this, the soldiers tightened their nooses.  Once Romulus’ had been tightened, his vision swam with multicolored dots.  He chanced a look over at his mother, who was gazing sadly into the crowd, tears streaming down her cheeks.  Romulus followed her gaze to see Gareth, happily munching on a drumstick on an opposite raised platform.  The seat next to him was unoccupied, which meant Kalika was elsewhere.  Romulus, feeling a surge of hope, looked throughout the crowd for her.  He thought he caught a glimpse of her honey-colored long hair, but it turned out to be just the reflection of the sun off a woman’s white dress.

            Gareth stood and addressed the crowd. “These people are accused of various wrongdoings.  If there is anyone that believes they should not be hung, please speak now.”  A cruel smile crept up his lips, and he glared at his mother.  The crowd remained silent for a whole fifteen seconds, and Gareth sat down. 

Romulus sighed, waiting for the drum roll to begin.  It did after a moment. And a slim executor dressed in black waited patiently for the drum roll to stop, and he cocked his ankle back, ready to kick the wooden crate from under the Queen.

When it did stop, the executor seemed to hesitate, waiting for something.  Gareth stood up after a few moments.  “What are you waiting for?  Do it!”

The executor put his foot back on the ground and withdrew a jeweled knife from inside the black robe.  A step forward and he cut the rope.  The crowd roared its disapproval, and the executor whirled on them, taking off the black mask and lowering the hood. 

Sara the valkyrie stood there, dwarfed by the large robe.  At this sign, the valkyries dressed as commoners jumped up on the platform, cut the ropes of the other prisoners, and led them all off into an alleyway.  Sara stood staring at both the crowd and Gareth a few more moments, and then followed.

                       

                                                Eight

             Sara had made Kalika promise that she wouldn’t reveal that she had actually planned the attack.  The Valkyrie said, very logically, that they needed the connections Gareth provided, and she couldn’t use them if she was in a dungeon somewhere. 

Though the valkyries were under siege for releasing the prisoners, Kalika easily cleared it up, saying that it was just something the Valkyries needed to expend their energy on. 

            Gareth regarded her suspiciously from the moment he got home from the execution.  She’d gotten back to the palace before the execution itself, and had made sure both servants and robots alike had seen her.  She greeted him coldly, still angry with him for hitting her.  If he had not been Gareth, she would have distanced herself from him; but since she needed the power and position of Princess, she had to deal with it.

            So Kalika had a silent dinner with him.  His suspicions were vanquished by the number of people (and non-people) that had seen her at the very moment of the execution.

            Gareth finally grew tired of the silence, and slammed his silverware down on his plate with a clatter.  She looked up, midway through her steak.  “I am sorry, alright?  I am sorry.”

            Kalika rolled her eyes and took another bite of the steak.  “Oh, that fixes everything- even my bruise!  Let’s get married.”  She said sarcastically, referring to the purplish bruise that was forming on her upper cheek. 

            He sighed.  “I did not mean to hurt you.”

            “Coulda fooled me when your hand was flying through the air.” Her outward appearance was that of her resolve faltering, but inside her resolve was gone.  She was like one of those millions of women that can’t break up with an abusive husband/boyfriend.  She was just an entry on a pie graph, and it killed her.  She was the General of a famous, magnificent army- how could she be so weak?

            The answer was simple- love.  She was mad with it, so she went a little off the deep end when it came to sanity.

            Gareth stood uncomfortably and sighed.  “I really am sorry.” 

            And she had a feeling he meant it, so she replied, “You’re forgiven.”

            He smiled, looking up at her shyly.  “I’ve ordered to stop the purge, since I knew you did not like it.”

            Kalika smiled, pretending this was a step when it truly wasn’t- he needed to do something not for her, but for himself- he needed, in short, to get some morals.  “I’m glad.” She said, standing.

            “And your army has arrived in Xandretta.”

            Kalika already knew this, via a messenger sent from Sara.  There was about seventy- five thousand, some of which had joined up when the rumor flew through the ranks that Kalika was going against her husband-to-be.  They respected her, and this, unknown to Kalika, was the first time the Valkyries had felt such respect for a General.  She offered a smile, and headed towards the door. 

            He stopped her, putting his hands on her waist.  “Will you marry me?”

            She looked away, at the sculptural bust of a former king.  His stony eyes looked at Kalika accusingly.  She shifted her gaze back to Gareth.  “We’ve talked about this.”

            “No, we haven’t.” He said, pulling her back when she tried to get away.

            She looked at his chest and sighed.  “I don’t want to marry you.”

            He looked genuinely hurt.  “Why?”

            Figuring he’d know it sometime, she said squarely, “Because you are a horrible man.”

            He stepped back, shocked.  His eyes were wide.  “What have I done to you that is horrible?”

            Kalika shrugged.  “Nothing.  Except slapping me…but it isn’t what you do to me that is horrible- it’s what you do to other people.

            “And what do I do to other people?” He asked, anger building in his voice.

            She looked at him sharply.  “What don’t you do?  You have prisoners in the worst living conditions ever, and the slave quarters come a close second to that.  Your orders are close to genocide- you systematically destroy not a race, but an entire culture.  The Zulai have been begging to surrender for years now, but you refuse.  You want to beat them back to the last, and that is disgusting.” She curled her lip at him.  “From the moment you turned down their first suicide plea, your war became merely a mass murder pushed by a bratty monarch.”

            Gareth didn’t react for a few moments.  Then, he went to the table, creaking under plates, and turned it on its side.  He turned back to her.  “I don’t care what kind of a man you think I am.  I am the Prince, and you will marry me, whether you like it or not!”

            He stormed toward the door and whirled.  “You and your army are marching with me to destroy the last of Zulai.  If you aren’t ready by eight tomorrow morning, you will find yourself with a noose around your neck!”

            Kalika glared at the shut door.  Finally, she came to a decision, and she stood slowly, without ease.  She found her way to the servant’s quarters, and to Darren, sitting on a bed of straw next to his mother.  When she stumbled in, she apologized profusely.  “I’m so sorry, Darren, but I need you.”       

            He smiled and held up one finger.  “Mother, this is Kalika.  Kalika, this is my mother.” 

            She shook the woman’s hand, old and weathered with age.  “Pleased to meet you.” She said.  The woman merely nodded and stepped back, patting her son on the head. 

            Darren led her outside.  “She is deaf- that is why she just lives with us and doesn’t do any work.  What do you need?”

            Kalika tore her gaze from a young boy playing in the grass, yelling, “Bugs! Bugs!” and focused on Darren.  “I need a few messages delivered, if that’s alright?”

            Darren became suddenly serious.  “I am at your service!”

            Kalika nodded.  “Alright.  To my second-in-command, Sara- she is in the Setting Sun Hotel.  My message- ‘Prepare the Valkyries to march in the morning.’ My second is to Dahlia, the head of the Dark Riders.  If you can’t find her, give the message to Romulus, he’ll get it to her.”

            “What is the message to Dahlia or Romulus, then?”

            Kalika considered a moment, how to best phrase this.  “Tell them…tell them to get to Sara, so she can arrange for Dahlia to march with us.  She can jump ship when she needs to, but I need her to be inconspicuous so no one will suspect she’s anything but a soldier.  I need her to pretend to be a valkyrie for a day.” 

            Darren grinned.  “Alright, General.” With a childish kick of his feet, he ran off towards the stables. 

“Darren!  See if you can get word on how the prisoners are doing!” She called as he ran.  She assumed he heard, for her raised his arm in a wave.

            Kalika found herself in the garden, watching the sun set from the branches of a tall tree.  It hadn’t taken her long to climb up it, and she sat amongst green and yellow leaves. 

            She found her thoughts on marriage, of all things.  Logically, it made sense to marry him- she would have to in order to attain the status and power of Queen.  However, she didn’t like him- she loved him, yes, but there was nothing there that resembled remotely liking him.  How strange, she thought, to love someone but not even like them.  Love- what an odd emotion.

           

            Darren took nearly an hour to return, and it was far too long to the anxious Kalika.  As soon as she saw Darren galloping in from the North, she descended her tree and ran out to meet him before the steps.  He smiled and dismounted, yawning slightly.

            “Well?  What did they say?”

            Darren smiled sleepily.  “Dahlia found Sara herself- the two were laughing when I went into the Setting Sun Hotel.  I told Sara, and she says the Valkyries will be ready when you fetch them.  She also agrees to allow Dahlia sit in as a valkyrie.”

            “And the prisoners?”

            Darren handed his horse to another servant.  “Romulus and the Queen are making up for twenty years of indifference, the redhead is taking sanctuary with the valkyries, and the two teenage boys fled to Azur as soon as they were out of sight of Sara.”

            Kalika held back a laugh.  “That’s men for you…Thanks, Darren.”

            He started off towards the servant’s quarters, but he turned back after a few steps.  Kalika, who was staring into space, looked over at him.  “What is it?”

            He smiled shyly.  “Romulus likes you.”

            Kalika arched her eyebrow and laughed.  “He’s more my sister’s type, to be honest.”  She felt a pang at the thought of Lila.

            Darren tilted his head to the left.  “You miss them, don’t you- your sisters.”           

            Kalika nodded, and spoke with uncertainty something she had been considering.  “I think that after I stop Gareth I’m going to go back.”

            His eyebrows shot up to his hairline and his mouth opened in surprise.  “You want to go back?”

            Kalika shrugged.  “Atlantis is great, it’s wonderful- but it’s not Greenville.  Boring town that it is, with its bad restaurants and rude cashiers at the department stores, I can’t help but miss it.”  She laughed without mirth.  “It’s really quite ironic.  I wanted so bad to get out of there- now I’m away I miss it.”

            “Because it is home.” Said Darren softly.

            Kalika nodded in agreement.  “Because it’s home.”

           

            Sara woke all the valkyries in the hotel at dawn.  At their whining, she yelled, “At least you aren’t with the others at the edge of Xandretta, sleeping tents!”  This caused a few of them to nod slowly.  After about an hour of whining and such, Sara gave the order to head to the Valkyrie camp on the South side of Xandretta.  Luck would have it that they anticipated Gareth’s move of forcing Kalika to march with him to Zulai, and they had camped on the south side instead of the north.

            The Valkyrie army was already packing up their tents.  A strong beef broth was given to each woman, which constituted as her breakfast.  In the broth, however, was a magical substance named “Likka”, which contained all vitamins and minerals known to man, as well as a strengthening component.  This was developed by the Valkyries only, and was partly the reason they were the best fighters in Atlantis. 

            Sara waited with the other Valkyries in a line facing the palace.  At approximately eight-fifteen (according to the sundials) a lone rider came over the hill facing the palace.  Then, another rider followed.

            And then, an army of a hundred thousand men came behind in all their best armor.  Calvary came first, then Footsoldiers and finally, the siege weapons- catapults and the like. 

            The first rider halted a few feet from Sara, and the other Valkyries stood on their toes to listen.  Others were hastily packing up the pots and pans that had held the broth, and were loading it on a large cart.  A few were hastily getting on their horses, and others were placing saddles and reins on them. 

            Those who were close enough to hear the conversation were chilled by the tone of Kalika’s voice- she was very angry.

            “Sara.  Are you ready?” Asked Kalika.  She wore riding pants and the armor made for her by the witch.  A sword was hooked to her saddle, and a pike as well as another sword were strapped to her back.  She even had a crossbow hooked onto her saddlebag. 

            Sara nodded, adorned in her usual gold of the Valkyrie.  “We are.  What is going on?”

            “Gareth,” She said his name with enmity, “Is forcing me to do this.  The whole way here, he had several crossbowmen keeping me in their sights.”

            “An archer is doing that job now.” Sara said, smiling a little.

            Kalika looked back.  “Perfect.  Wonderful.  And he wants to marry me.  What a father figure.  Continuously training archers on his wife’s back.”

            Sara chuckled lightly.  “I am sure the children will be properly psychopathic.”

            Kalika smiled a little, then went serious.  “And Dahlia?”

            Sara tilted her head behind her, to a raven-haired woman on a black horse.  “Obviously in good health.”

            Kalika smiled contentedly.  “Good.  Let’s go.”

 

            The day’s march was somewhat uneventful; Kalika had insisted the Valkyries march somewhat apart from Gareth’s army, gaining a much-needed break from her fiancé.  That night, their camps againwere separate.  As soon as the tents were up, Dahlia was in Kalika’s tent, complaining.

            “I really hate marching.” She muttered, rubbing her swollen feet.  She had been forced to give up her horse to another valkyrie- the woman had been injured in a fistfight with one of Gareth’s men.  Of course, she had come out of it in better shape- he was being sent back to Xandretta- his arm was broken in three places.

            “I know- you’ve only said it a hundred times.” Kalika muttered, looking over the map of Atlantis on her table.  Sara was sitting in a chair next to Dahlia, watching with a wicked smile on her face. 

            “Perhaps another valkyrie will get in another fight, and you will have the joy of walking again.”  Sara said, smirking.

            Dahlia looked up at her disdainfully.  “No.  I am riding that horse if the whole damn army gets hurt.  And who said I was even marching the rest of the way with you?  Once I hear what Kalika has to say, I plan on going to Gardena.” She looked over at Kalika, who was puzzling over the map.  “You do have something to say, right?  If I marched all day today for nothing I will be very upset.”

            Kalika looked up.  “Oh.  Yeah.  Well…I have a plan.” She pointed to the Paracelsus River, what had once been the border between Depla and Zulai, but was now just a divider of Depla.  “How are we getting across this?”

            Sara looked at it.  “Oh.  At low tide, you can wade across it.  At its highest point of low tide, it comes up to about here.”  She put her hand on her thigh.  “I once had to go through there in my youth to reach my Aunt in Qu’Tan.”

            “Qu’Tan….Qu’Tan…” Kalika searched on her map.  “Oh.  The country…I see it.” 

            “Yeah- gotta love Qu’Tan- they’re the most useless part of Atlantis.” Dahlia muttered, rubbing her sore feet with some water.

            “How so?” Asked Kalika, looking up. 

            “Well, when I was your age- when I had just been freed by the Dark Riders- they brought me to Qu’Tan because it was nearest to the farm on which I’d been freed.  It’s a sleazy place- everyone is in debt.  Children can walk into brothels and can be serviced; In the capital, it’s like Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras.”  She looked at Kalika.  “Have you ever been on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras?” Kalika shook her head no.  “Heh.  Good.  It’s…wild.  Even when it is not Mardi Gras, it’s crazy there.”

            Sara looked from Dahlia to Kalika.  “Bourbon Street?  Mardi Gras?”

            Dahlia looked at the confused Valkyrie.  “Just don’t bother asking.  I’m not in the mood to explain.”  She looked back to Kalika.  “Well?  What’s your plan?”

            Kalika looked at the map closely, then nodded to herself.  “Alright.  When we reach here-“ She pointed to a location just before the magical blocks that protected Zulai.  “The Valkyries attack Gareth’s army.  The Dark Riders and Xardan wizards wait behind the barricade, then their sign to attack is the Valkyries attacking.  I-”

            Sara interrupted.  “Sorry, Kalika, but the Xardan wizards?  How are they on our side?” 

            Kalika looked over to a smiling Dahlia.  “We’re allied with Dahlia; Dahlia is allied with Zulai; Zulai is allied with Xarda.  We’re allies by association.”

            Dahlia was grinning widely now.  “I think I’m going to like this plan.”

            Kalika laughed, then turned serious.  “I need you to make sure that the Zulai soldiers, the Dark Riders, and the Xardan wizards are waiting for us right when we arrive.  I know one of the wizards that is going to try and break that block- and I don’t want him to die doing it.  The timing must be precise, so keep that in mind.”

            Dahlia nodded.  “Alright.  I get all that- but what about Gareth?  He’s going to run- he’s a great fighter, but he doesn’t have that much guts.  Who will chase him?”

            Kalika considered.  “I will.”    

            Both of the other women looked at her oddly.  “No, Kalika,” Said Dahlia just when Sara protested with, “Absolutely not.”  Kalika regarded them, sitting back in her chair.  “You don’t think I can?”

            Sara snorted.  “It is not a matter of if you can or not- it is a matter of if you will- admit it, Kalika, you love that bastard of a man.”  When Kalika immediately looked away, Sara laughed.  “See?  You can’t hide it from us.”

            Dahlia began to smile evilly.  “I think I am forming an idea.”

            Kalika looked over to her.  “What is it?”

            Dahlia shushed her, and after another moment grinned widely.  “Oh, I have an idea.”

            Kalika narrowed her eyes at Dahlia.  “What- is- it?!”

            Dahlia told them, making motions with her hands as she talked.  The two other women, especially Kalika, were wary of it when Dahlia proposed it, but Kalika finally agreed.

            “Won’t it look like I’m acting the coward too, if I run away from the battle?” Asked Kalika, sipping at some hot tea.

            Dahlia shrugged.  “Who cares what it looks like?  The Valkyries will know the plan, and you don’t really care what Gareth’s army thinks of you, do you?”

            Kalika shrugged, still hesitant.  “Not really…”

            “Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” Said Sara logically.

            According to Kalika, there was everything to be afraid of.

 

                                                            Nine

            Two days after the conversation and formulation of the plan, and a day after Dahlia had gone to set things up with Xarda, Zulai, and the Dark Riders, a young boy from Gareth’s camp bounded into Kalika’s tent just as she was getting her armor on.  The boy burst in and goggled at the site of Kalika in a sleeveless white top.  She frowned at him, pressed the enchanted armor to her bosom, and waited as it curled around her back in the usual way.  Then, she turned to the boy. 

            He was only thirteen or fourteen, and was dressed in the usual garments of Gareth’s Army.  It was early, only a little past dawn, so her first question was, “Is it very important?”

            The boy nodded.  “Yes, erm, Gareth says we have to go around the Necromancer’s area.”

            Kalika scoffed.  “That makes us go fifty miles out of our way.  Tell him no- we’ll go straight through.”

            The boy shifted on his feet.  “We can’t do that, ma’am.”

            Kalika groaned.  “Well, tell him I’ll find him at his camp after we cross the Paracelsus.”

            The boy nodded and bounded off.  Kalika shook her head, packing her tent into her saddlebag.  She muttered to herself, “Go fifty miles out of our way just to avoid one wizard- what an idiot.”

            The day passed without incident, and the crossing of the Paracelsus River was easier than Kalika had hoped- the horses rather enjoyed the cool water on their tired legs and sweaty flanks.  The foot soldiers of Gareth and the Valkyries that crossed on foot hated it- afterwards, every few yards a Valkyrie could be found dumping water out of her boots. 

            Kalika found herself waiting to see Gareth again- she hadn’t seen him since they had parted on the first day of the march, and she missed him.  He had sent her a few messages professing his love and apologizing profusely, but she had ignored them.  He still sent one every morning and every night, and some even caused her to blush.

            She didn’t bother setting up her tent, but went straight to Gareth’s camp.  Tired of riding, she walked the half-mile to his camp and found herself admiring the landscape.  The trees were lush, here, and the birds were multicolored neon.  The walk was a little too short, for she was a bundle of nerves as well as disappointed of her change of view- soldiers with dark, malevolent faces that looked as if they’d seen the apocalypse.  She knew these men were scarred- they had been ordered to take no prisoners, to kill and kill until there was no one left.

            War had its rewards, and the dark faces of what were once happy, joyous men weren’t one of them.

            Kalika found Gareth’s tent with a little help from a soldier.  He was alone, relaxing on an actual mattress- something Kalika hadn’t felt in nearly a week.  Immediately, forgetting all he had done to her, she dived onto the mattress, next to him.  It wasn’t perfect- a little too stiff- but it was a mattress, not a cloth over straw.

            Gareth looked at her, surprised.  “Hello.” He said. 

            Kalika cuddled into his pillow and offered a muffled, “Hi.”

            He stood.  “Would you like anything to drink?  To eat?”

            She turned over, enjoying the sensation of a mattress.  “I never appreciate the small things in life.  I really should start.”

            Gareth repeated, “Would you like anything?”

            She looked up.  “Yeah.  Why can’t we go through the necromancer territory?  I mean, he’s one wizard; we’re two armies.  Which do you think will win?”

            Gareth regarded her tiredly.  He had bags under his eyes and his face was unshaven, giving him a bit of stubble on his chin and cheeks.  “Kalika, necromancers are the most dangerous wizards there are.  This one has been in the same area for over a hundred years, and before that he caused trouble in Xarda.  He is probably two hundred years old, and from what our scouts have said, he is growing in power.  We’ve always avoided the area when fighting Zulai, and I had assumed you knew about it until one of your valkyries expressed her fears of going through the necromancer’s territory.”

            Kalika nodded slowly.  “But he’s still just one man.”

            Gareth sat next to her on the mattress.  “He is one man, Kalika, but he is an immensely powerful man.  We would be wiped out.”

            Kalika snorted.  “You’re afraid of one wizard when you have Harvey and an army behind you-“

            “Harvey is dead.”  He said emptily, his mood changing drastically.

            “What?” Kalika asked, sitting up.  “How?”

            He got up from the mattress and said nothing.  Kalika stepped behind him, and touched his right shoulder.  “What happened?” She asked softly.

            Gareth turned around.  “He is not dead.  He is as good as dead.  He is in the dungeon of the palace.”

            Kalika stepped back.  “What-“

            He glared at the tent’s mesh side.  “He and my mother had an affair.  Twenty-five years ago, they had an affair.  I’m his son.” With that, Gareth began to hyperventilate.  Kalika assumed this was his version of crying, and she hugged him.  “I’m not even really a Prince!” He said into her shoulder.  “I’m the son of a wizard and a Queen, I am no more than half of a prince!  Everything in my life is a lie.” He hugged her close, his eyes clenched shut.

            She made sympathizing noises in his ear as he rambled on, how Harvey had told him just after he found out the Queen had almost been executed.  How Harvey had said, “If I had raised you, not that King, I would have been proud to say you are my son!”  This had sent Gareth into an understandable state of shock, and he had gone into a flying rage.  He sent his father- his real father to the dungeon just before he and Kalika had eaten dinner together.  No wonder he reacted so badly, Kalika thought.

            Kalika held Gareth to her like that until he stopped hyperventilating and his breathing returned to normal.  He stood back and looked at her.  “You are so beautiful.  Kalika…you know what I am going to ask.”

            Kalika slowly nodded.  “I know.”

            He took a deep breath.  “Will you marry me?”

            As this had been part of Dahlia’s idea- the idea that Kalika had almost cast aside- she replied with a nervous “Yes.”

            Gareth’s reaction was instantaneous.  His eyes grew wide and he jumped nearly a foot into the air.  “Did you just say yes?” He nearly yelled.

            Kalika nodded slowly, feeling as if she were apart from her body, floating just above it.  She felt as if she were having an out-of-body experience, just without the being dead part.  She saw Gareth take her into his arms, covering her with kisses as she passively stood inside his embrace.  He didn’t notice her passiveness, which was good for the plan, but bad for Kalika.  She was overcome with despair as he began to slip her armor off.  Suddenly, she came to her senses and stepped away, replacing her armor.  “Not yet,” She said softly, looking at his quickly angering face.  His anger melted into compassion as he smiled at her.

            “Of course, my dove, my Kalika.” She flinched at the use of the word “dove”, annoyed that this very same man could hit her without mercy.  She bid him farewell and stepped out of the tent, then turned back.

            She peeked her head in through the tent flap.  “We’re going through the Necromancer’s territory.  I’ll handle him.”  Before Gareth could object, Kalika was already heading back to her camp.

 

            Midday the next day, the two armies came upon a dark patch of woods that spanned the horizon.  The trees were bare and black, and upon their branches the most ugly of birds sat.

            One of these birds actually attacked one of Gareth’s men; he came too close to one and ended up having only one eye afterwards.  He was going to be sent back to Xandretta for a fake eye, but for now his face was adorned with an eyepatch.

            Kalika met with Sara and a group of other high-ranking valkyries whose names she didn’t know.  Gareth was due to visit her in an hour at her tent, and she needed to get this meeting over with.

            Kalika stood, looking at each valkyrie in turn.  She’d gathered extensive information about the necromancer, and all she heard instilled in her a sense of responsibility.  She needed to destroy this bastard of a man, whether she liked it or not.  He was rumored to have an entire army of skeletons, each with their own magical prowess.  An entire army of undead that could do magic; what a fearful thing. 

            As Kalika looked cool and collected on the outside, she was trembling horrendously inside.  She had ordered a fine meal- not the usual gruel laced with Lekka- to be sent to she and her Valkyrie advisers, for it would likely be her last meal. 

            “You all know what I am about to do, and the conflicts that may arise from it.  I don’t ask you to avenge me if I die today.  My orders are to continue; I need you to destroy Gareth’s army.  I know you have accustomed yourselves to their presence, “ At this she looked directly at a brunette valkyrie rumored to have a soldier lover.  She blushed and sank in her poorly constructed seat.  “But I ask you to end this.  End Gareth.  A well-placed arrow will do; you may not even need to engage in contact with the army itself.  At all costs, if I do not return,” Here the esteemed Kalika drew a haggard breath.  “He must die.”

            A ripple went through her advisers.  She held up a hand to silence them and they were ultimately quiet.  “You wonder, I am sure, why he will live if I do not die today.  It is this: only I can control him; he’s a firebrand and a spoiled brat, but I can control him.  If I live, so must he; and the opposite if I die.”  Kalika looked down at the table, shifting on her feet.  “We all know what pain he has caused Atlantis.  We all know what he has caused to grow, and what he has stifled.  We all know,” she continued quietly, “That love is blind.  But I am not blind.  I know what he has done.  If I live past this day, he will pay for it; the same goes if I do not, since I leave that as my dying wish.”

            She continued quietly, “In two days, when the two armies, ours and Gareth’s, reach the vista hill that overlooks the magical blocks separating Zulai from Depla, you will turn on Gareth’s army.  If I live, I will follow Gareth to wherever he runs, and our plan will go from there; I will marry him for the sake of connections.” A few of the women protested, but Kalika continued, louder, “If I am dead, this is where he must be killed, at any cost.  This, too, will stop the war, but may elevate distrust with the Valkyries that cannot be smoothed over by me.”  Kalika sighed and almost sagged tiredly.  She was no longer the seventeen-year-old girl that wanted out of her small town.  She was a general, as was evident by the already-forming lines on her face as well as the bags under her eyes.  She continued her last command.  “Tomorrow, if I am not back, continue onward.  If I live, I will catch up; leave a horse behind for me.  Then, execute the plan according to what occurs.”  The other valkyries looked at her somberly and Sara nodded to her commander.

            “We understand this.  We will do as you ask.”

            Kalika sat back down, and her mood suddenly changed.  She clapped her hands and smiled at the other women as plates were brought in for each.  Steak and an odd-looking vegetable were atop each, accompanied by a glass of wine.  When each woman stared disbelievingly at her plate, Kalika grinned.  “The vegetable is pure Lekka- I understand that if you eat it all you’ll be on a type of sugar high for a few days.  I’m told it is quite delectable.” She instantly took a bite of the plant, and her eyes went wide.  She coughed heartily as it instantly sank into her bloodstream.  It was delicious, and carried a punch not unlike pure caffeine.  Kalika, knowing she needed the energy, ate it all.

A few Valkyries followed suit, but some went straight for the steak; they were going to take the opportunity to eat red meat, as it so rarely presented itself. 

Their dinner was full of laughter and life; while Kalika was acting mildly intoxicated due to the Lekka.  Suddenly, after all the women had finished their dinners, Kalika stood and left.  Each woman’s mood turned sober as they saw their leader go to the other end of the camp, to her own tent; to ready herself for the coming battle.

 

Gareth intercepted Kalika when she came within sight of her tent.  He was oddly emotional, begging her to forget this; to go the fifty miles out of the way and let this necromancer go about his evil business.  She ignored him, choosing a javelin and strapping it to her back as well as a quiver of arrows.  She selected a fine bow as he professed his unconditional love; that she needn’t do this, he loved her anyway.  She even ignored him when he fell on his knees- that prince that had so long reduced others to that position, and let them go unheard.  At last, she placed her sword in its sheath and turned to him.  The Lekka had put her system into overdrive; she was hearing everything for half a mile around, and smelling the gruel they were eating at the other side of the plain, in Gareth’s camp.  She even felt the separate shifts in wind on each of the hairs on her body.

“If I let evil go on, then I myself am evil.” With that, Kalika walked away, into the foreboding woods.  Gareth didn’t follow.

 

It was dark, almost unbearably so; Kalika had to squint to see anything.  The crows perched on the black trees hadn’t attacked her yet, but she was ready for them to attack her at any moment.  With an incantation, she summoned a ball of fire to aid in her path; it hovered above her head, shedding light on the branch-strewn path. 

It was an ugly wood.  From the looks of it, there hadn’t been a patch of light here in a hundred years or so; perhaps the necromancer made it like that.  For some reason, earlier in the day she had neglected to even look at the black forest, probably because it so obviously prophesized her death with its looks. 

Every twig that crunched under her foot forbade the final crackle of her neck being broken by the aged hands of the elderly necromancer.  Every leaf that fell with a soft whish was the sound of her tissues crumpling under intense pressure.  Fear overcame the brave Kalika, her earlier bravado forgotten.  She wanted nothing more than to get out of this forest and its noises that gave her terrifying thoughts.  However, she kept herself steadfast, and focused on getting through the forest.  She ignored the sounds her Lekka-enhanced ears allowed her to hear and the fear these simple noises instilled in her soul.  After several minutes of walking, the fear began to dissipate, and it soon disappeared. 

The trees became blacker in color, but they began to thin out, until suddenly Kalika was at the edge of a cliff with no idea how she got there.  She looked around curiously, taking in the brownish sides of the gorge as well as the blackness of the bottom of the valley below.  A glance about revealed no way across the large gap.  With a start Kalika realized her trek would not be stopped by the necromancer himself, but by the geography with which he had surrounded himself.

Kalika narrowed her eyes and make a sound of disbelief.  Losing now would make no sense.  Kalika jumped up, testing to see how far she had the ability to jump.  An amazing five feet, thanks to the Likka, but that five feet wouldn’t help her jump a hundred.  With a sigh Kalika glared at the gorge. 

As the fury built in her at the hopelessness of her position, she had a fit. “Coward!” She shouted, angrily, getting up from her sitting position  “Only cowards surround themselves with geographical features that cannot be crossed!  It’s not playing fair!” She hurled a handful of stones across the precipice.  She glared a moment longer, before her eyes registered the sight before her.  Some of the rocks she had hurled had landed on a bridge!  A bridge that was magnificently camouflaged and to the right a few feet, but it was reachable via a small gap between carefully placed shrubs.  Kalika smiled and headed across, a handful of stones in each hand, which she threw in front of herself every few feet.  It was lucky she did this, for halfway to the other side the bridge took a sharp right turn to the right, then back on course after a few feet.  Kalika almost fell off the bridge from this trick, but luckily she had brought the stones, which gave her a few moments notice.  She finally found her way across with a sigh of relief. 

Unfortunately, that sigh was turned to a gasp as a large, cat-like animal jumped from behind a tree, snarled, and charged.

 

                                                Ten

Kalika ended up stumbling backward, back onto the bridge.  A few feet to the right or left and she would have fallen to the bottomless blackness below. 

The creature had the look of a feline but its immense size betrayed that of a real cat.  Its legs were as thick as tree trunks and almost as tall.  Its fur sprouted frizzily into every possible direction and was a shocking color of red.  The redness wasn’t as dark as blood, but Kalika had a vague feeling that some of the darker spots on the animal’s chin were indeed bloodstains.  It stood about twenty feet high, its flank was wide and forbidding, and its teeth were impossibly long.

Kalika withdrew her sword and looked from it to the animal, thinking, this can’t possibly hurt it.  She looked up at the creature, snarling and making hissing noises, then back to her sword.  She humbly sheathed it again, and sprinted between the animal’s legs.

She withdrew a knife from between her breasts and slammed it into the animal’s underside, continuing to run.  The animal snarled and its ten-foot long, thick tail swished after her.  Kalika rolled, careful not to hurt her arrows or bow, which were slung upon her back.  After a second she was up again, running, trying to gain distance between the animal and herself.  She looked back to find the cat-like thing following slowly with sleuth-like movements.  Kalika withdrew a black arrow with a stone tip, letting it fly at the animal.  The arrow hit it in the eye, and it offered a high-pitched scream in response. 

The animal halted its stalking movements and went for an all-out charge.  Kalika let another arrow fly, hitting the animal in its thick skull.  It screamed and picked up speed, heading straight for Kalika.  She jumped aside, into a gathering of prickly, thorny bushes that scratched her exposed neck and face.  Red trails of blood were slashed across her tanned face, obscuring her feminine and warrior-like beauty.  The animal charged past her, but quickly realized its folly and headed towards the bushes that housed its adversary. 

Kalika flinched and jumped up to grapple at an overhanging branch of the black tree next to the bushes.  She swung once, gaining momentum, then a last, second time, and let go at the highest point in the swing. 

            She flew through the air, legs stretched outward, arms tucked into her body.  She sailed right over the creature’s large head as it charged forward, but unfortunately didn’t miss the mutant’s tail; the thick appendage hit her in her midsection, reversing her direction.  She flew back towards the prickly bushes, this time screaming mercilessly.  With luck, she hit the open space next to the patch of scrubs and rolled onto her feet, nothing bruised except pride.

            The scratches on her face were bleeding horribly, and her own blood began to cloud her vision.  Luckily, she was clotting quickly due to the Lekka, but not quick enough to prevent the blood from obstructing her vision.  She withdrew her sword for a final attack (final to whom, she would later wonder) and readied herself for the sneaky animal to either charge or pounce.

            There were two scenarios the creature could carry out.  If it charged, she would feint left, into the abyss that was the cliff.  If it followed the feint, she would either let it fall, or stab it as well as she could while it ran past.

            The worst scenario would be if the cat-creature pounced.  Following the usual instincts of felines, this was the action more likely to occur.  She was cornered- she had lost her arrows in the pricker bushes, her knife was in the animal’s underbelly, and her agility was wearing down.  If the animal pounced, it would be very,very bad, as she had no formed plan on how to avoid dying in that scenario.

            The animal paused, as if hesitating, and to Kalika’s dismay, it scrunched its haunches to pounce.

            Well.  Damn.  Kalika thought, placing her hand on the hilt of her sword.

            As if in slow motion, the creature pounced.  Kalika moved inside its attack and raised her sword.  The cat realized in midair the trick she was pulling, and attempted to alter its course all too late.  Kalika jumped up, used the creature’s flank as a springboard to jump a bit higher, then sliced off its head.  The sword separated the head from the animal very cleanly, and it landed in the bushes with a soft thunk.  Kalika herself landed next to the larger part of the carcass, and she kicked it out of pure spite.

            “Jerk.”

           

            Sara paced inside her tent.  She had moved it from the center of the valkyrie camp to about twenty feet from the forest.  Her attendants had to watch for the murderous crows, but didn’t mind- they all wanted to be closer to the forest that night; and with any luck hear any murmurings of success from within the forest.  So far, Sara had only heard a triumphant roar of a feline creature (she assumed, the roar had sounded lion-like) and she worried for her leader.

            Sara wondered, after this was all over, if Kalika would return to the mainland.  Somehow, she doubted it…very few that arrive at Atlantis ever go back to the mainland for long.  The crime, pettiness, ugliness and most of all, the absence of magic, always drove them back to the floating island.   

            But she worried about Kalika, in the forest alone. She didn’t like letting her go alone, but it would have been breaking a Valkyrian code of honor if she had insisted on accompanying her.  A valkyrie asks for help; she should never be offered.  It is a matter of pride.

            A wail of pain came to her Lekka-enhanced ears.  Sara relaxed a bit, and she allowed herself to sleep on the straw mat that served as her bed.  They would leave at dawn to cover the sixty miles to the border of Zulai and Depla.  They would arrive there in less than two days if they moved quickly.

            Sara fell asleep, and her dreams were dark.  They consisted of the laughing necromancer professing his victory over Kalika, and how her leader was cursed forever.

            Sara would later on wonder if she could have prevented the fate of Kalika, and her soul would be tortured by it until the end of her days.

           

            Kalika slept badly that night, plagued with dreams of death, darkness and madness.  She woke easily enough in the morning (she assumed it was morning; in that dratted forest one couldn’t really tell) and started on her way.  Half the day was easy traveling, and she got so bored she started examining her map.  However, closer to the center of the necromancer’s territory, and to his black castle, the trees began to clump closer and closer together.  She heard a few distinct noises and stopped for a few moments, but nothing attacked her. 

            It was really getting quite boring.

            Finally, Kalika reached the chasm that served as a moat for the wizard’s castle.  All of a sudden, the trees simply stopped, and there was no more ground.  It took her by surprise, and she almost stumbled into it herself, managing only to save herself by moving quickly.

Another bottomless pit…Kalika had a feeling this necromancer had a fondness for all things unending and black.

            Well, then maybe he’d enjoy the place I’ll send him- oblivion, She thought.

            She looked around for a place to cross, when she realized a bridge was slowly being lowered.  She frowned as it hit the ground in front of her, and narrowed her eyes at the open gates. 

            Too easy, Her mind whispered.

            A voice filled the vast area.  “Welcome to my home, Kalika.  You will find me harder to kill than you would like to think.”   It was an old voice, clothed in a kind of darkness and evil one would only find in B-Movies and 70’s horror flicks.

            But here it was, right in front of her- true evil.

            Kalika couldn’t believe it.  She frowned and looked about for the source of the voice.  It scared her, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up straight.  It was eerie, hearing a voice but seeing no source.

            “The bridge is strong.  You may cross.”  It sounded amused.

            “Why should I trust you?” she shouted back.

            “Because a necromancer cannot lie.  It is the price we pay for our power.  We cannot plead our case of innocence because we are not innocent.  The power we endow forbids us to lie.  It is the punishment for wielding something so impure.”

            Kalika frowned.  “We?”

            A laugh rang in her ears.  “There are more of my kind, in your world.  They stick to the shadows and carry out evil deeds.  They are not as gifted as I, however- they are mere apprentices in their power, and not immortal like I am.”

            Kalika frowned further at the word “immortal”.  The necromancer continued, “They aren’t true necromancers…you would call them vampires, I believe…If I remember correctly, one of your sisters is doomed to be killed by one of them...” His tone was mocking and cruel.

            “Shut up.”  Kalika closed her eyes at the mention of her sisters.  The voice did as it was told, and Kalika unsheathed her sword and opened her eyes almost painfully. 

            She sighed and looked at the drawbridge darkly.  Ancient cultures believed that when a person died, they crossed a bridge into the afterlife.  As that morbid thought tickled her brain, she readied her sword and began to cross.

            She uttered a prayer that if she did cross that specific bridge, just let it be to the good place.

                                                            Eleven

            The bridge was strong; the necromancer hadn’t lied about that.  However, she began to worry when there was a loud roar beneath her, as well as a flapping of wings.  Kalika hit the ground just as the dragon roared up into the sky.

            She turned onto her back and looked up.  It was circling back towards her, and she cast a look at the gates again.

            They were down.  She was trapped.

            She sheathed her sword and began uttering a mild spell one of the valkyries had taught her.  She spoke the Latin perfectly, and shuddered as a surge of power flowed from herself towards the dragon.  It halted, as if hitting a brick wall, then spun in midair, wailing.  Its red hide rippled in pain and anger.  She retracted the spell, as it was already sapping all her energy.  It was a last-ditch spell; one that valkyries are taught to never use unless you are in deep danger.  It was thus because the power would kill a strong human.  It also sapped the user’s energy, and if prolonged for more than a few moments, it can be fatal.

While the dragon recovered, she withdrew a Lekka root and shoved it into her mouth.  With any luck, it would boost her energy back to normal, or hopefully beyond. 

The dragon’s wing had taken most of the power burst, and its flight was tilting to the right.  The left wing was stronger, then, and right should be the one to attack.  Kalika unclasped her Javelin from her back and hurled it toward the dragon’s left wing.

However, the dragon anticipated this.  It dropped down lower to avoid it.  Now, the dragon was too close to Kalika for comfort, and she had lost her javelin to the chasm.  All she had left was a dagger in her boot and her sword. 

It was that moment the dragon decided to use one of its most famed weapons.  As Kalika couldn’t move but in two directions, the dragon began to sense its victory over her.  It even dropped lower to the drawbridge to enjoy toasting the warrior that had so wounded it. 

This was a mistake of the dragon.  Kalika’s energy was returning to full, and she smiled mercilessly as the dragon opened its mouth to roast its prey.

She ran towards the dragon, brandished her sword, and dealt a deep blow to its left wing, slicing the muscle leading to it in half.  She jumped over the dragon’s head and slammed her sword into its skull with all her strength.

The dragon roared instantly in anger and pain, as it reflexively tried to take off.  Unfortunately, the blow to its left wing was too deep; it couldn’t fly away.  It merely wavered on the bridge.  Kalika dove behind it as it blew fire in pain and fury.  It began to turn towards her, but she began to utter another, different spell.  This one, she had learned from Harvey. 

            As the dragon finished its turn, it glared straight at her.  Blood was welling in its eyes due to the injury to its brain.  It knew it was done for, but it insisted on taking Kalika out with it.  It sucked in the air to turn to fire-

            And it dropped dead.

            Kalika slumped back.  The spell was to weaken another’s immune system; to stop clotting and antibodies, and speed up whatever injuries had been dealt an hour or less before the spell, increasing their potency tenfold.

            Another spell that could have killed her.  Kalika reached for her last Lekka root, and munched.  She pulled the sword out of the dead dragon’s skull and smiled triumphantly.

            “Oh necro-maaaaan.” She sang joyously, sauntering toward the black castle.  She hadn’t gotten a very good look at it before, what with her worries about the drawbridge, the evil voice that was the necromancer, and the dragon.  It was an ornate palace, made of black onyx and painted wood and steel.  It was as large as the island on which it stood, and taller than the surrounding pines.  Its windows were small, unadorned with mere black shades or curtains. 

            As she neared it, the gate began to open.  It creaked complainingly on its hinges, and slowly crawled upward.  She guarded herself as she looked into a large courtyard filled with barren trees and dead plants.  A skeleton lay at the base of a dead mulberry tree, and Kalika could have sword it looked at her.

            She tossed her sword lazily in one hand, casting her eyes about.  One door stood at the very end, about fifty feet yonder.  She shrugged and moved towards it, still a little freaked out by the skeleton. 

Skeletons don’t move, She told herself.  They’re dead.

            The skeleton sat up. 

            “Oh, duh.  Necromancer.  Can raise the dead.” She swore and cursed herself, looking about as long- dead warriors burst from the ground on which they had died.  Some were so old their bones cracked as they exited the ground, brandishing war axes that hadn’t been used for hundreds of years.  Others seemed slightly newer, like the skeleton under the tree.  Some brandished swords and staffs, others javelins and spears, and yet others delicately fingered their ornate longbows.  Some were obviously great heroes once, their swords emblazoned with runic words of power and spells and wearing heavy armor.

            All in all, Kalika was surrounded.  About fifty skeletons surrounded her; most had probably been great fighters in life.  She hoped that those skills didn’t carry on into death.

            They circled her, forming an enclosure.  Kalika summoned an easy flame spell and unleashed it upon the older skeletons; as expected, they burst into flame easily and no longer continued to be a threat.  However, she still had forty skeletons surrounding her, each with his own weapon and some with wizarding power.  At that moment, the necromancer appeared at the other end of the courtyard.  He hissed at her, his grotesque features marring what had once been an average face, now clouded over with darkness and evil.  His hair was pure white, dingy, unkempt, and unwashed.  He smiled, waved his hand; and the skeletons descended upon her. 

 

            Sara frowned into the midday sun, shielding her eyes.  Her armor weighed abnormally heavy on her, as the dreams of Kalika’s destruction had kept her awake half the night.  She groggily commanded her second in command to lead the army as she didn’t feel quite up to the task.  She lagged on the left flank, looking into the dark woods that remained the necromancer’s territory.  However, after another mile, the trees thinned out, leading into an open, barren wasteland.

            She knew this land. It was where the Xardan wizards had banished the necromancer into that foreboding forest a hundred years before, even then filled with dark, menacing evils.  A great battle had been waged, where many wizards had died, simply to banish him there.  The land, once being in the property of the Zulai, had consented to the banishment of the necromancer on their land, content with the fact that the wizards would place defensive barriers to hold the evil man in his dark prison. 

            A tingling sensation crept up her bare neck; she halted her horse.  She looked at the ground, imagining the dying wizards that had been laid to waste there.  She frowned, believing she was actually seeing them breathing their last breath as a few wizards stood facing the necromancer, hurling spells and shouting Latin in their deep, booming, bass…

            “Commander?  Sara?”

            Sara’s eyes came back into focus.  She frowned and clutched her bridle tighter.  She looked at the Valkyrie whom had spoken.  “Yes?”  The speaker was a red-haired teen that cooked the food while being trained in the ways of Valkyrie fighting.  Her horse was a pony; so she sat lower than Sara, and Sara had to look downwards to look her in the eye.  She recalled the girl’s name to be Hyperia. 

            “You…had an odd look about you.  Like you were seeing the past, like the seers do.” She spoke slowly.

            “Seers?  They’re a myth.” She scoffed, digging her heels into her horse’s flank, urging it to trot. 

            The girl matched her pace.  “Oh, no.  I’ve seen one before, in Gardena.  He was tortured by Gareth’s men for information on the future.  What they did to him was brutal, but when he had a true vision, you could tell; his eyes just gave it away.” 

            Sara remained quiet.  She told herself it was a waking dream; the kind some people get when tired or stressed. 

            Sara finally trusted herself enough to speak.  “Who was this seer?  I haven’t heard of him, how have you?”

            Hyperia looked down.  “He was my father.  Gareth thought maybe I’d inherited the seer gene, and wanted to see if watching my father’s torment brought it out in me.”  She cast a glance at Sara then trotted off toward the middle of the army, seemingly embarrassed she had shared such a deep secret. 

            Sara’s hatred of Gareth grew to new bounds.  She lovingly fingered her sword as she imagined the tortures she would put him through. 

 

            Hyperia did not go back to the center of the army, but pulled a roundabout to end up in the very back.  She slipped into the necromancer’s woods and dropped to the ground, in tears.  Her horse, after a moment, ran off, deeply terrified of what lurked there.

            A being stood over the poor girl, grinning evilly.  It wasn’t a person; it had no formal shape.  When it spoke, the wind carried its evil voice, “Good news.  I have fed and am now strong enough to take complete control of you, not partial.”

            The girl’s sobs grew louder, then stopped abruptly as the ghostlike entity slid into her young body with ease.  The girl smiled coolly and faced the open space beside the forest, keeping her eyes open for Kalika, if she lived long enough to attempt to reach her army. 

            The being that had taken control of the young valkyrie was named Medea.  She was the creation of the necromancer; a melding of two souls.  One soul was that of a dark, mutated race that inhabited deep Atlantis, called the Maenids.  They were frenzied women that had been banished to the Atlantean underground long before Merdun had set foot on the land.  The Maenids, in Greek mythology, were followers of the God of Wine, Dionysus.  However, after the gods died out, the Maenids, once beautiful but frenzied maidens, mutated into ugly, immortal creatures.  They were banished to the Atlantean underground.

            The other half of Medea was a blending of the necromancer’s attributes and the soul of his actual son, whom he had killed at childbirth, but trapped his soul in that of a contained energy chamber, in eternal torment.  Once the Maenid soul and the corrupted infant’s soul had blended, it had created Medea, confined to the area her creator himself was limited to.

            The monster lay in wait for whoever crossed her path; now that she was flesh, she could actually kill. 

            And Medea hadn’t done that in a very long time.

 

            Hyperia, still somewhat aware of what had happened, cowered in the back of her own mind, watching and waiting.  Luckily enough, Medea had to enter a stasis of sorts, not unlike human sleep.  Hyperia took her chance, used the bridle from her escaped horse as a noose, and hung herself from a tree.

 

            Kalika didn’t know how, but she was able to kill all the skeletons.  It had all been a blur; they had attacked, she had ducked, slashed, jumped, kicked, punched, thrusted…and all of a sudden she seemed to wake up from her blood frenzy.  She looked around at the bodies of the skeletons, circled around her not unlike the circle of Stonehenge.  Unintentionally, she had employed a great Valkyrie weapon, that of “Rampage” And Kalika was more tired than she had been in a very long time.  She leaned on a sword she had taken from a dead skeleton, and glared at the aged necromancer with all the ferocity she could.  Her mind was still wondering how she employed a Valkyrie skill when she was not a true Valkyrie.  It didn’t truly matter, however; she had more important matters to deal with. 

            Kalika withdrew a crossbow from a skeleton she’d chopped in half and blew on the bolt, concentrating. The bolt lit with a blue fire, and she pointed it at the necromancer.  He smirked at her, and opened his arms wide.

            Kalika let the bolt fly; it hit the man in the chest. However, the flame she had wanted to spread disappeared, and the necromancer withdrew the bolt from his body, and pointed downward.

            There was no wound.  His skin was unscathed.

            Kalika, employing the same tact she had with the fake policeman only a few weeks before, said fiercely, “I’ve seen it done!” She then rushed at him.

            He lazily parried each blow with his own sword, and as Kalika felt herself slowing down due to tiredness, she feinted twice; left, then right, and then hit the bracelet on his left wrist. 

            She had meant to cut his hand off, to remove the threat of magic, and deal only with the hand that held the sword.  She hadn’t expected him to fall down in pain as the bracelet flew from his wrist and shattered on a rock a few feet away.  The necromancer bowed in pain and as a final testament to evil, slashed his sword at Kalika. 

            She was unprepared; she didn’t know the bracelet was the source of his immortality.  As she felt the blade slide through her flesh just below her breastplate, she watched in awe as the aging process sped up on the necromancer; his skin withered and blew away, as did his hair; his muscles dissipated and his eyes disappeared.  Even his bones turned a coffee-colored brown. 

            When at last he lay dead, Kalika withdrew the sword and applied a solvent Sara had given her on her wound.  Kalika stumbled onto the rock on which the bracelet had shattered, and collapsed, falling asleep.

            The solvent was meant to clot the wound.  When Kalika fell onto the remains of the shards of the bracelet; a dark thing that was meant to be in the possession of no human, the shards were mixed with her clotting blood.  It mixed into her system, and while she slept, her wounds closed, her scars from childhood disappeared, and her body was refreshed.

            Kalika then awoke, unaware that anything odd had occurred.  She looked down at her wound and smiled, thinking that her healed body and refreshed self was due to the potion Sara had given her.

            She searched the castle quickly, finding a few jewels and many enchanted weapons.  The only thing she took from that forbidden castle was an enchanted sword with the capability of controlling weather (She had tested this with very amusing results).  With this sword, she used the power of the wind to send her back to the horse that waited where she had began her journey.

            Aware that she could have easily used this enchanted sword to whisk herself away to her army, she preferred horseback; it was simpler and not as dangerous.  Anyway; she doubted that the weather-powers of the sword were bottomless; one day they would run out.

            Kalika sped her horse on, stopping only long after the sun had set.  She set up camp under a large oak tree across from the forest, and cooked her meal of broth and stale bread.  She hadn’t taken any food from the necromancer’s palace because it reminded her too much of the Greek Underworld, Hades.  She refused to eat anything from that place in the fear she would be trapped there forever, as those whom eat anything in the Underworld are.  The story of Persephone was rich in her mind when she left that doomed, wretched place.

            Her sleep was uninterrupted, or so she thought.  Medea had escaped the dead body of Hyperia and had journeyed northwest, closer to the Necromancer’s palace.  She had felt his death ripple through her evil psyche, and she vowed revenge on the warrior Kalika. 

            Medea sneaked up behind Kalika and attempted to possess her, but to no avail.  The amulet’s power protected her from possession.  And so, when Kalika awoke, Medea followed her, pointed her in the direction of the dead Hyperia, a plan forming in her wretched mind.  Medea could not possess Kalika; but she could still read her mind.  She knew of the plan; of Gareth and the wedding.  Medea plotted her revenge, as revenge is most often plotted- in the shadows.

 

                                                            Twelve

 

            Kalika found the valkyrie-in-training’s body the next morning, her body so cold she actually had dew on her skin.  She closed the girl’s eyes, bowed her head in respect, and then wrapped Hyperia in Kalika’s own sleep blanket.  Hyperia’s body was stiff, and difficult to put on a horse, but Kalika did it. 

            She was not unaware that her army would be dangerously close to the Xardan border by now. She whispered words of speed into the horse’s ears, and rammed her heels into its flank.

            All the while, Medea followed behind, sticking to shadows and underbrush.

            The ride was uneventful and speedy; she reached the rear of her army by midday, when they had stopped for lunch.  The valkyries rejoiced at her return, and Kalika smiled heartily; only a few days had passed, but she had generally missed the women that were her comrades-in-arms.

            She brought the dead girl to a tent close to Sara’s, unintentionally.  This, however was fortunate to the plan of Medea. 

Medea had originally made up the story of the seer and his torture to frighten a valkyrie, something that amused her greatly.  She was lucky that her plan of amusement had been upgraded to a plan of deceit, something far more interesting. 

            Sara hugged Kalika as she demounted her horse.  The two smiled at each other and the stiff object wrapped in a blanket distracted Sara.  She moved closer and gasped when the blanket fell away to reveal Hyperia’s young face.

            She turned away, grimacing.  “Where did you find her?” She asked of Kalika.

            Kalika sighed sadly.  “She hung herself with her horse’s bridle.“ Then, noticing the look of pain on her friend’s face, she asked, “Did you know her?”

            Sara seemed to be somewhere else.  Her mind was running quickly through a meadow of anger.  “Yes,” She replied.  “And I know why she did this.”

            “Why?”

            “It is a personal matter!” She said angrily.  She retreated to her tent and sat, thinking.  In her mind, Gareth was the cause of this; Gareth was the reason a girl so young had been tortured enough to kill herself.  She did not know Medea was behind it all, or that Medea had sneaked invisibly into her tent.  Slowly, Medea attached to the valkyrie.  Not enough to take over her, but enough to corrupt her thoughts, to have influence over them without Sara’s knowledge.  The death of her other host had weakened Medea, and she needed to feed off energy in order to possess a new host.  However, she had no intention of possessing Sara; she wanted to torture her as much as Kalika.  She wanted Sara to go mad for a time, and then succumb to guilt later, when Medea had enjoyed herself and reaped chaos. 

Medea enjoyed chaos, reveled in it.  It was her creator and destroyer.

 

Kalika was weary from traveling so hard and with such a sad burden.  She didn’t understand why Sara had gotten angry- she deduced it to just being that time of the month- but she did know that she needed to see Gareth.  She missed him, the jerk that he was. 

Kalika made her way across to the men’s camp, where they were waiting patiently, grumbling about those “damn valkyries” and why they had to stop, set up a few tents for the officials, and eat for lunch.  These soldiers were used to stopping only at sunset.  Kalika defended the valkyries by saying, “And you can keep up with them when they march, I’m sure.” This got her a few rude looks.  The truth was that they did walk slower…the valkyries covered the equal amount of land as Gareth’s army would if it didn’t stop for lunch.  It was a matter of time and speed.  The valkyries were in a hurry, but in their own way.

Kalika found Gareth sitting away from his army, on a rock facing a small lake.  She wanted to kiss him so badly then that it almost overtook her; she was almost swept away by emotion.  However, she kept her cool and watched him for a few moments before she finally said, quietly, “I killed the necromancer.”

Gareth slowly turned to her.  “I know.  The aura of evil dissipated there just after we left that area of woods.  My messengers told me of it.”

Kalika burst out crying at the memory of the dragon, the skeletons, the necromancer…She sobbed and Gareth held her comfortingly. Her sobs quieted, and Kalika rested in his arms.

Gareth held her and for a few moments and Kalika forgot about the future and the past, her plans and his, his ambitions and what was good for Atlantis.  She forgot she was the Chosen One of Atlantis and instead, in that moment, was Kalika, the girl.

Unfortunately their peace did not last for long.  The Valkyrie army was moving; she needed to go to the front to command them.  Already, the end of the army was several hundred yards ahead, and Gareth’s army had started moving slowly.

She detached from his embrace.  “Gareth. I need to go.“

“I know.” Gareth kissed her forehead, pointed to a white stallion.  “Take my horse.” He paused.  “Where will you be?” 

“With a back up guerrilla army in case we lose.  I’ll be on a cliff overlooking our battlefield.” This was a lie; there was no back-up, smaller army.  She would merely be watching Gareth to keep track of where he ran.

Gareth looked at her inquisitively.  “The Valkyries approve?”

“They approve of back-up plans.  They know where to rendezvous in case they need to retreat.” She said, standing and walking towards the horse.  This was true; it was tradition for there always to be a retreat rendezvous point, though the Valkyries never retreated.

She mounted the horse, looked at Gareth.  “I’ll see you afterward.”

He smiled.  “By the end of the day, my father’s last wish will be fulfilled, and the Zulai will be nothing more than a dishonored people.”

Kalika, beginning to rethink her plan of usurping Gareth, instantly lost her doubts.  He had changed, yes, but he was still a power hungry man.  Only now, he was a power hungry man with manners and less hate.  She nodded and kicked her heels, her horse galloping off towards the cliff with her on its back.  She took a sword from one of the weapon mounts as she galloped by.

She needed to circle around her army and head straight east, then immediately south after a mile.  This would lead her to a large precipice overlooking the battlefield, where she would meet Dahlia. 

As the leader of the dark riders, she was forbidden to ride in battle, much to her chagrin.  Fortunately, she was able to watch. 

Kalika reached the cliff just when her army reached the hill overlooking the magical barriers.  Gareth’s army soon followed, and took up position next to her army. 

The Dark Riders, Zulai’s army, and Xardan wizards came into view, marching out of the barrier.  The barrier, from this distance, was a mere black cloud that prohibited anyone from entering.  She knew that inside that cloud laid the remainder of the Zulai territory.

The three groups- the Dark Riders, the Zulai, and the Xardan wizards, were all obvious.  The Dark Riders rode on their horses, clothed in the systematic black cloth, bearing their flag.  The Zulai were footsoldiers, dressed in the dark browns and green colors that signified the dreariness of the swamp.  Their flag bore a deep contrast to it; its yellow and red standing out the most throughout the army.  Their faces were the saddest; broken but not yet defeated.  Some of the soldiers were little older than fifteen.  The wizards stood aside a bit, a smaller but more distinct army, surrounded by a magical shield put up by a wizard in the rear.  The others held flames and lighting between their open palms; yet others chanted toward the sky, demanding the powers of lightning, wind and rain.  Kalika raised the enchanted sword, ready to block these wizards from an elemental attack of Gareth’s wizards, some of which were also chanting towards the sky.

Dahlia suddenly appeared beside Kalika, her black hair whirling in the growing wind.  “You killed the necromancer, I heard.”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“An enchanted bracelet,” she said, keeping her eyes on the battlefield.  “As soon as I cut it off, he died.”

“What happened to the bracelet?” She asked, fingering the hilt of her sword and glancing at the converging armies longingly.

“It was destroyed.”

“And the shards?”

“What shards?” She asked, looking over.

“Well, to every amulet, there are shards.  If exposed to a wound they get inside the person, and can be of great healing power if given to the sick; especially an Immortal amulet- they can cure sicknesses and diseases easily.  There are always shards, unless they are absorbed fully, which is very bad.”

Kalika frowned, looking back to the battlefield.  The two armies were almost upon each other, one frighteningly large, and the other quite miniscule.  But half the large army would attack its counterpart as soon as she raised her sword.  She could feel herself being watched by the Valkyries.

Kalika narrowed her eyes, seeking Gareth.  He was at the rear left flank, watching.  He had stopped advancing and instead opted to watch his victory.  His band of wizards were behind him, chanting and readying themselves.  Kalika waited until the armies were but yards apart, with the Valkyries enormously anxious, and then-

She raised her sword high.  It summoned a strike of lightning from the growing storm cloud into the sword, which drew more attention than she would have liked.  Gareth swung around to look, just as her Valkyries attacked his army.

She imagined his face even though she could not see it.  Awe as he looked at the figure on the cliff with an elemental sword, confusion as he watched the Valkyries attack his men, then fear as he realized he was on the left; and closest to the Valkyries, though farther back than their rear.  He immediately took off, galloping at full speed towards the north, from whence they came.

Kalika motioned to Dahlia to report all that occurred as she dug her heels into her horse and sped off towards her fiancé and nemesis.

 

Sara had watched anxiously for Kalika’s signal.  She strained her eyes for a movement when finally, it came an she realized she hadn’t needed to waste her eyesigh with straining; the signal was quite obvious. 

The valkyries turned on Gareth’s army.  The two groups of wizards, equal in amount but not power, raged their own private battle while the Zulai, Dark Riders, and the Valkyries fought against Gareth’s fierce army.

The swordsmen were incomparable, but the Valkyries were skilled with all weapons, and killed many with crossbows and spears.  The Zulai yelled, screamed, and lunged with all the ferocity and desperation of a last stand battle.

Sara galloped about, firing her crossbow and using her sword against any man that dared come close.  One of Gareth’s wizards attempted to use a lightning spell on the group of other wizards to no avail; Kalika with her enchanted sword easily blocked the Xardan wizards from it, having seen what was happening through a gap in the trees while raced to Gareth. 

 Two hours later, the Xardan wizards had won their battle, but the other was still raging.  The wizards stood aside, killing whatever men came close as well as those that didn’t.  Gareth’s army was depleting drastically when finally a general yelled, “Retreat! Now!”  And ran off.  The army was behind him, running as fast as they could.  Some took off their armor and threw it aside so they could run faster.

The battle was over.  Zulai’s last stand was successful.

But the war was not yet won. 

 

Kalika was tiring of looking for Gareth.  She had tracked him to a section of woods next to a peaceful pond, and looked for him there.  She had dismounted her horse long ago, wanting to travel quietly, on foot, instead.

She collapsed next to the pond, head in her hands.  She felt disgusting, having not bathed in a few days as well as just having betrayed a man she loved deeply but illogically. 

She heard a twig snap behind her.

“What happened?” he asked, coming up behind her.  He stood there, looking at her blonde-brown hair and waited. 

“I don’t know.  I suppose…” Kalika closed her eyes, cursing the fact that she had to lie.  “I suppose they were never truly loyal to me after all.”

“Or they were too loyal.” Kalika heard a sword being unsheathed and whirled as well as stepped back, withdrawing her own.

“What are you talking about?” She asked shakily.

“You always disagreed with my methods!  You hate how I run Depla, and how I wage this war, and why.  You hate me.  You want Depla for yourself!” His eyes were bright and angry as he sputtered this off, waving his sword.

Kalika answered coldly.  “Well.  I guess you hadn’t really changed.”

“Changed?  Whatever, you wretch!  You won’t have my country, but you will marry me!  And when you do I’ll lock you up in a tower until you die! Then I’ll be ruler of all Atlantis, with more power than ever imagined!” He screamed as he advanced on her.

Fear filled Kalika’s stomach, as well as disappointment.  She had hoped…well…that was all gone now.  Kalika allowed herself one tear, and then she parried his attacks. 

His attacks were sloppy and angry; Kalika could have killed him several times in the first few minutes.  But she wanted- needed- Gareth alive, both for Depla and herself. 

All of a sudden Gareth stopped and sat down, head in his hands.  Kalika looked at him oddly for a full minute, then he spoke.  “Oh, God. Kalika…the spell…I’m so sorry.”

“What?” She asked, thouroughly confused.

“The spell…it has the effects of alcohol on the body...the happy-then-violent cycle…I never realized…I could have killed you…”

“Then…why did you have the spell done?” She asked, sitting next to him.

“I missed you...I was a mess…I wanted to do something good, so I let out Harvey, but I still felt terrible, so I told one of the wizards to put a spell on me…now I know why he was so reluctant.” He raised his head and looked into her eyes; his own were bloodshot.

Kalika hugged him close as he apologized for accusing her.  She didn’t believe a word of his apology, but tears clogged her vision anyway.  She pitied this foolish man that she love illogically.

“Shh,” she whispered, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks, leaving small paths of semi-clean skin.  “It’ll be alright.”

 

Medea had enjoyed the battle; she had even taken Sara over at one point and killed a few men of her own before retreating to the back of the Valkyrie’s mind.  Luckily, Sara hadn’t noticed, but was merely surprised at the number of times she had actually stabbed some of Gareth’s men.

There were very few Valkyrie dead, but half the Dark Riders were depleted.  The Zulai had suffered minimum casualties as well, but their group was so small that it wasn’t surprising.  Compared to the Dark Riders, they had lost few; but percentage wise a quarter of their army was dead.

The injured were treated, the dead buried on the battlefield.  The valkyries took over the latter while the wizards took over the former.  Rows of graves adorned the peaceful land marred only by the magic barrier that cast a black shadow on everything.

Sara had suffered a mild wound to her side but Medea had healed this herself.  Most of the Valkyries, having seen most of the action, were wounded, but they would be ready to travel back to the islands in a week.

Sara was never seen at the grave diggings, as was custom of the high-ranking Valkyrie in a war.  When asked, she would answer simply, “My hatred of Gareth outweighs my sense of responsibility.” And thus, warriors began to talk, to gossip about Sara, especially when she left in the middle of the night for Xandretta.  However, when it was found she had been invited to the wedding of Kalika and Gareth, no one worried.

Even though they should have.

 

                                       Thirteen

Kalika and Gareth had taken a day to get to a major city.  From there, they received a carriage to take them on the long journey to Xandretta.  They didn’t talk much on the way, but when they were close to their destination, Gareth dropped a bomb.

They were to be married the next day.

Kalika went into a fit, demanding that Gareth give her more time.  Gareth was stubborn and held to it; they were to be married as fast as possible, so he could finally have victory over Zulai.

“Is that all I am to you?  A victory?” She yelled testily.

“No, but it is said I will be triumphant if I marry you!  And I don’t think you understand how much it means that I take over the whole of Zulai!” He yelled back. They needn’t yell, as they were in a carriage and only a few feet from each other, but they did anyway.

“I think I understand perfectly!  It’s a simple demonstration of male testosterone!  You’re a petty, power hungry fool, and I’ll never believe a word you say!  I hate you!” Kalika seethed, crossing her arms angrily as she glared out the window.

“You hate me?”  Gareth’s voice was serious and sad.

“Yes.  I hate you.” Kalika said these words and felt regret at them, but she held fast.  Gareth needed to hear that.  She did not want to marry him; love or no love, they were simply not compatible. Gareth was the kind of guy you date, make out with, but never marry.  He was simply too erratic.

Kalika stared out her window, and Gareth out his.  Gareth, unknowingly to Kalika, loved her.  He would have changed for her, had he been given the chance.  But at the words, “I hate you,” Gareth was struck with a need for vengeance.  He planned to marry her as a punishment for her hate of him.  He didn’t know what would happen after the wedding, but was sure it would be terrible. He would make it terrible.

All too soon, they were back in Xandretta.  Kalika was allowed out of the palace only on official wedding business, by order of Gareth.  Kalika told her guards to “stick it” when they saw her leaving.  They didn’t follow.

Xandretta was a total circus.  Flyers, decorations, and banners were everywhere.  Yellow and white masqueraded the shopfronts.  There were posters with love poems on them, with “Gareth and Kalika” as the title.  There were minstrels, singing sappy love ballads, referring to Gareth as a knight.

A knight?  Him?!  Kalika thought angrily as she passed.  She approached the temple where Romulus resided in very poor spirits.  Kalika’s only wish for the wedding was for Romulus to preside.  Since Gareth had sworn she would give her one thing she wished, he lifted the warrant for Romulus’ arrest and reinstated him as Head Priest.

She fingered a small vial of green liquid under her cloak.  She had bought it earlier, and even through the thin glass she could feel its deadly power.  Kalika sat in a pew and stared at the statue of herself.  The statue, Kalika hadn’t noticed, had a look of deep thought on her face.  Kalika pondered her own visage, and didn’t notice when Romulus sat next to her.

“The valkyries are awaiting your command.  They wish to head back to their Islands, leaving only a few legions behind to guard the border.  I think it is unnecessary to leave them behind; the Zulai can head off any attack now, with the Dark Riders as their ally.”

“Let them do as they wish.” She said tiredly.  She looked to Romulus.  I instate you as their new leader.”

Romulus started, looking at her closely.  “They’ll only accept that if I fight you.”

Kalika looked away.  “After the wedding, I’m leaving Depla.  I’m going to go to the Islands to rest.  I don’t expect I will return.  I don’t want this responsibility anymore.”

“You’re so young, but you want to retire?”

Kalika shook her head.  “I never wanted to be somebody.  I don’t have any talents, I’m merely adored for a prophecy.”

Romulus looked at her oddly.  “I notice you didn’t mention going back to America.”

Kalika closed her eyes.  “Do you think I could return to school, return to my citizenship and my mother, return to normalcy, after all this?  After love, corruption, death, ambition, beauty and magic?”

Romulu smiled.  “I understand.”

Kalika stared off a moment.  “I’d like my sisters there tomorrow.”

Romulus nodded, bowed his head.  “It shall be done.”  The two sat in quiet for a few moments.  “They won’t accept me as their leader.”

She rolled her eyes.  “They will.  Shut up.”

A longer moment of silence followed.  Kalika stared at the candles around her statue, pondering the light and the shadow, and which will win in the end.  She turned to Gareth.  “What kind of king would you make?”

Romulus bowed his head.  “I hoped never to be one.  But I’d like to think I’d be a wise one.”

“Would you bring peace?”

Romulus sighed.  “After years of war, I’d like to think that someone will.”

Kalika was silent again.  “Your monarchy works through the family, correct?  As in, if a king dies, his younger brother gets the throne?”

Romulus yawned.  He’d been pestered by Gareth’s security all day about the upcoming wedding, and he was fatigued.  He answered, “Traditionally.  That’s how it works.”

Kalika stood.  “That’s all I need to know.”

Romulus’ forehead creased as he watched her walk off.  “Wait!” He said.  Kalika stopped.  Romulus stood slowly, looking at the back of Kalika’s head accusingly.  “Why do you ask about the kingship, and what kind of king I’d be?”

Kalika closed her eyes painfully and placed her hood over her head.  “You’ll know soon enough.”

She walked quickly out of the temple, leaving Romulus to stare after in shock and dismay.

 

The next day was the wedding day.  The ceremony was to be at night, and Kalika woke at noon and paced until three.  Finally, a knock was at her door.  She opened it to see Darren.  She smiled and hugged the messenger boy.  Darren hugged back quickly, and slipped a small box into her cloak.  The two pulled away, and Darren made a big show of telling Kalika the wedding was at six.  She smiled and nodded, and he ran off, thinking highly of himself.

“Out!” Kalika yelled to the two robots that were cleaning.  They rushed to obey, and in an instant they were gone.  Kalika shut and locked the door.  She withdrew the box and the vial of green liquid, placing them side-by-side on the coffee table.  She took a deep breath and opened the box. 

Inside, lay a magical dart.  It had been created by a wizard, and had been kept by Dahlia for any assassination attempts she may want to enact.  She had never used it, and vowed never to use it.  And here Kalika was, readying herself to use it.

Kalika uncapped the vial and dripped its contents onto the dart.  The needle glowed bright green when it was filled with the poison.  She took a deep breath and threw the vial and its remaining contents out the window.  She closed the box and hid it under her cloak.

She knew how the dart worked.  All she had to do was say the full name of the target she wanted dead, and the dart would then kill them once the signal was made.  The signal was one word, “Veritas”, the French word for “Truth”.  Ironic, that such a divine, pure thing was the signal for a murder.

She whispered to the box, “Gareth Scipio.”

She felt the dart accumulate its target.  Kalika stepped out into the hallway, her footsteps soft.  She leaned on a banister and looked down.  Gareth was arguing loudly with one of his attendants, and hadn’t noticed her.  She opened the box, staring at the embodiment of murder and death.

“Veritas” was on her lips.  She tried to speak it.  She formed the word, but her voice faltered.  She looked down at Gareth, yelling at his servant, his dark hair scattered on his forehead.  His goldish green eyes glared angrily, and his lips curled in a sneer…

Now! Now!

He stalked angrily away, and then threw something at the servant, calling him a fool.  Gareth looked straight at Kalika and his anger partly diminished, replaced with something like pain before he disappeared into another room.

Kalika closed the box and pressed the deactivation button.  She retreated to her room and closed her eyes.  It was no use.  She could never kill him.  It would be like killing something sad and pitiful, but also loved. 

Kalika sobbed into her hands. She pitied Depla.  She pitied Atlantis, and hoped that someday, her children would forgive her for her weakness and inability to kill a tyrant.

 

Medea enjoyed Sara’s thirst for vengeance.  It was one of the things she appreciated as a spirit.  She had enjoyed Mordred’s usurping of Arthur in Britain, and had done all she could to keep Arthur from being healed, but to no avail…However, he was locked somewhere in the depths of Atlantis, and was most likely raving mad by now.  So she felt Mordred had been avenged, to a degree.

Sara had stationed herself over the balcony, in one of the church rafters.  She had several hours until the wedding, and some people were already being seated.  A few socialites with unmarked invitations were turned away only to return again in disguise.  Sara found it amusing that they would be so interested in a wedding.  Mostly, those socialites enjoyed getting drunk more than being social.

Sara put her bow in front of her and lay down on her stomach, head in her hands.  She was confident she was invisible from below; the rafters were thick and wooden.  It was the only part of the temple the was made out of wood, and this was merely because they were in place to hold up the temporary seating all around, since traditionally the Cathedral consisted of only the ground-floor pews.  Bleachers of a sort had been added, as well as a balcony on either side for the rich.  Romulus hated this arrangement, as he had a window in his apartment that looked out into the temple, and ugly, dark wooden bleachers now blocked it.

Sara fell asleep, dreaming of blood and death.

 

Kalika and Lila embraced, nearly in tears.  Jenna had run away from home, and Lena had followed.  Kalika’s mother had been hospitalized for overdosing on ecstasy, and Lila was the only sister Romulus had found on such short notice.  He’d found her in church, and they started getting along quite well.

Lila listened to Kalika’s story, awed by her sister’s growth in maturity in such a short period.  Gone were her witty quips and quick laughter.  Her eyes were hard but not cold, and they shone with a wisdom that hadn’t been there before.  Her movements were subtler, her large gestures and loud voice replaced by quick movements and soft observations.  She was still Kalika, but she was less a girl, more an aged woman.  The difference shocked Lila.

Lila intended to stay out of the way for the Atlantean wedding, for her heart still ached from Gareth’s cruelty.  Lila, however, was forced to participate anyway, mostly due to her sister’s complaints. 

The wedding was lavish in the way Atlanteans adore; white everywhere, the abundance of flowers, guests, and music.  Romulus and Lila sat opposite each other before the wedding began, as siblings to the betrothed.

Kalika’s dress was an old-fashioned Elizabethan-style dress that accented her small waist and enlarged her feeble hips.  She wore an uncomfortable corset that constricted her breathing, and her hair was up, done fashionably around a silver crown with sparkling diamonds.  She wore diamond earrings that drooped low, and an ornate necklace that would have bought a small country. 

She looked extravagant, but she was poignant.  She didn’t know her fate after the wedding, and she doubted it would be good in any way. 

Gareth was dressed lavishly in a white tuxedo with silver adornments.  His hair was tidy in an unruly way and his gold-green eyes shone in the lighting of the temple.  Romulus was in a foul mood, but he stepped up and bowed to Kalika in respect, as did the entire audience.  It was Atlantean custom to do so.  Lila stood beside Romulus as Kalika’s witness, and Harvey, beat up as he was, stood on the other side of Romulus as Gareth’s witness.  He had a black eye and was bowed a bit over, but other than that, he was charming as ever.  He winked at her and Kalika rolled her eyes.  Gareth smiled and took her hand, and Romulus stepped between them. 

“The witnesses, Lila Korey and Harvey Stanzio, are asked to hereby stand and give their blessing.  Witness of the bride?”

            Lila stepped forward, smiled warmly.  “I extend blessing.”

            “Witness of the groom?”

            Harvey stepped next to Lila.  “I extend blessing,” he said in a slightly throaty tone unusual for him. 

            Romulus nodded, and muttered an incantation.  A fire burst forth in his palm.  He held it at hip height and used his other hand to guide Gareth’s hand over the flame. After seeing there was no threat, Kalika put her hand over Gareth’s.  The flame was harmless, a mere illusion, but it looked real enough that Kalika almost pulled back when the flames in Romulus’ hand grew brighter and ensnared her own hand completely in its faux fire.  She looked at Gareth.  His eyes were serious and oddly pained.  Kalika closed her eyes.  She knew she shouldn’t have told him he hated her.

            Romulus said loudly, facing the crowd, “These two- Gareth Scipio and Kalika Korey are here to be bound in the blessed matrimony-“

            Suddenly, Kalika had an odd prickling feeling in the back of her neck, and she tuned out.  She glanced around through her light veil, eyes geared towards the ceiling.

            “ Gareth, repeat my words.  ‘I, Gareth Scipio, King of Depla, take Kalika Korey as my eternal wife.’”

            A shadow was moving up in the rafters.  Kalika’s eyes narrowed. 

            “I, Gareth Scipio, King of Depla, take Kalika Korey as my eternal wife.”

            Gareth’s hand squeezed hers, and Kalika realized it was her turn.  She listened to what she had to say, and repeated them, “I, Kalika Korey, Chosen One of Atlantis, take Gareth Scipio as my eternal husband.” The words of course, were created by Romulus, who thought it fitting to give her such a cheesy title.

            Romulus nodded, turned to Harvey, who held the rings.  Kalika looked back at the rafters, and she did see something this time; a flash of gold.  The gold armor of a valkyrie.  She looked to one of Gareth’s personal guards, caught his eye, and looked at the ceiling.  He nodded and went to investigate when-

            An arrow sliced through the air in front of Kalika and into Gareth.  Romulus dropped the ring he was attempting to place on Romulus’ finger, and caught his brother before he fell.

            Gareth was bleeding profusely from a wound in the chest.  The aim had been true; his heart was impaled.  Harvey looked up over Gareth’s bleeding body- he had been the first to rush there, aside from Kalika- and his look revealed all: there was nothing to be done. 

“Kal-Kal-“ Gareth shuddered, blood gushing all over Kalika’s white dress, turning it that damned crimson color.  Kalika took Gareth’s hand and tears formed in her eyes.  With her other hand, she broke the arrow in half so that it didn’t protrude from his chest so much.  She didn’t want him to die while looking at what caused his death.

“I’m here.  I’m here.” Kalika clutched his hand tighter.

Gareth smiled and touched her cheek.  “I’m s-sorry f-for-“ He began to choke on his own blood, and Kalika hugged him to her. 

“I know, Gareth.  I’m sorry too.  I love you.” She was crying now, tears getting everywhere.  Sobs wracked her body, but she forced them inside.  She must appear strong, if only for him.

Gareth smiled mistily.  “I love-“ His body wracked with a spasm of pain and his eyes rolled back.  Finally, after a moment where his body made a few odd, wet noises, Gareth settled back, eyes wide and unseeing.

Kalika settled back on her heels, head in her hands.  She saw nothing for a very long while, and suspected she lost consciousness.  She became aware of her surroundings a few moments later, in Lila’s arms.  She heard Harvey yelling at someone, threatening…

Kalika, remembering the shadow in the rafters, stood.  She came face to face with Sara.  Kalika’s mouth dropped open and she stared for a moment.  Harvey had been waving a sword at Sara, and he now had it at his side, watching Kalika for her reaction.

A moment longer she stared at her former friend.  Then, with a graceful motion, she took the sword from Harvey’s hand and beheaded the Valkyrie.

 

Kalika stood on a balcony, looking up at the stars, wondering.  Lila stood beside her, pensive herself.

Romulus was king now; he had been coronated in a somber mood.  Immediately he had ordered a halt on the Zulai-Depla war, and gave them back half of their land.  His excuse for not giving it all back was that it would be too much of a change; the Deplan people would not accept the mere “handing over” of their conquered land to their lifelong enemies.  He promised Kalika to return it to them soon, but slowly, as to appease his people.  Kalika was reminded of Chamberlain’s appeasement to Hitler, though calling the Deplan people Hitler was a rude analogy.

Kalika was moving to the Valkyrie islands.  She had given control of the Valkyries to Romulus until the Valkyries deemed it necessary not to obey him.  Harvey had inspected Kalika after Gareth’s death and her execution of Sara and was due to meet her on the balcony with results.  He had insisted on a full check, for some odd reason.  As usual, he was late.

She heard him approach; she was getting better at that.  His walk was soft and unsure, and instantly Kalika was startled.  She whirled.  “What is it?” Lila, shocked at her sister’s surprise, whirled.

Harvey stepped up to Kalika.  He slashed her right hand with a dagger, and Kalika looked up at him, shocked.  Lila cried out and moved to her sister’s side.

“What-“She started, raising her other hand to slap him. 

“Look at the wound.” Lila said softly to her sister. 

Kalika looked down.  It was healing at a rapid rate.  In a few moments, the tissue was not even scarred.  She looked at Harvey fearfully.  “Another quirk of the prophecy?”

Harvey shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  I suspect that you came into contact with something that makes the user immortal, and it mingled in your bloodstream.  Only the necromancer would have something like that.” He paused.  “Did you touch anything there?  Did he stab you with anything?”

Kalika shook her head.  “I used his sword, but that’s in my room.  He wore an amulet on his wrist and when I broke it, it shattered.”

Harvey suddenly grew very alarmed.  “The shards.  Did you touch them?”

Kalika shook her head.  “They all just disappeared.  They shattered on a rock, and then I-“ Kalika paused, brought her hand to her mouth.

“What?” Harvey demanded. 

Kalika closed her eyes.  “It was the amulet.  I’m immortal, then.”

Harvey nodded, sighed.  “It seems so.  I think you should go to the Valkyrie Islands for a while, they might help you come to terms with this…It is a very harsh thing to have to face, all of the ages…”

Kalika smiled.  “Oh, I’m good with this.  Do you know how many people want immortality?  Harvey, this is great.” Kalika grinned and Lila looked on, frowning in thought. 

“Kalika,” Lila said, touching her sister’s arm.  “You’ll never go on. If there’s a heaven, you won’t go to it.  You’ll be stuck here for all eternity.”

Kalika sobered slightly.  “I know.  But think of all I can do.  All the things that people never get to do, I’ll be able to do.  I can read every book ever published, I can travel anywhere, I can become a master in defense of all kinds…Lila, this is an opportunity of great proportions.”

Lila looked down.  “You’re right, I know.  But…It will get boring.”

Kalika shrugged.  “Not for a while.  It will take a very long time for the human race to start making the same mistakes.  And I’ll have things to do, always: people to meet, books to read, theorems to contemplate.  The human race will never get boring.”

            Lila sighed.  “But heaven-“

            “Is irrelevant when I can do things on Earth.  Lila, I know the afterlife means everything to you, but look at it this way: I’ve always wanted to live forever.  It’s a dream come true.” Kalika put her arm around her sister and grinned.

            Lila looked at her oddly.  “You want to live forever?”

            Kalika smiled and looked into the night.  “Not for the sake of living forever, but to learn all that I wouldn’t be able to with a normal life.  I can become everything I ever wanted to become.” With that, Kalika parted from her sister and gripped the railing of the balcony, closing her eyes, knowing that though all of eternity lay before her, she would never tire of something so simple as a summer’s evening.