Atlantis Awakening by Alyssa Day Page B

touching down in front of a white marble temple inlaid with jade and sapphires and amethyst, and Erin was trying yet again to keep from tossing her cookies on the pristine lawn.
    A wave of sound emanating from the Temple reached out to her; tentatively, at first, and then with an all-encompassing full-body wave. “Oh!” she cried out as, with a rush of pure, diamond-sharp joy, she felt it. She felt it. The music from the gemstones soared into her and through her and she felt it, she lived it, she was one with the music, the rich, powerful symphony of the stones pouring into her soul.
    She stood there as the music trumpeted through her bones and blood and sinews, and for the first time since she’d been a tiny girl in her mother’s arms, Erin opened her mouth and she sang.
    Â 
    The high, clear notes of song soared into the open, airy receiving room of the Temple, and Ven turned toward the doorway—toward the source of the sound—and began to walk toward it, still carrying Riley in his arms. The First Maiden of the Nereids, Marie, dropped a ewer of water with a startling clatter and, leaving it there, rose from her kneeling position by the side of the cushions where Ven had been about to lay Riley’s huddled form.
    Marie followed him to the doorway, but Ven couldn’t have said if any of the other maidens followed in their wake. His eyes were straining to see the notes of the music, which must have been written in golden script on the air of the Temple. No sound so unbearably lovely could exist only as an intangible; no gift of such unutterable grace could vanish with the breath of the singer.
    Marie spoke from very near his right side, where Riley’s head lay cradled on his arm, and her voice was hushed with awe. “The legend of the gem singer of the Nereids. She has returned to us.”
    Ven didn’t respond—couldn’t respond. He followed the music, a Pied Piper’s melody of enchantment calling to him.
    Calling him to peace and calm. Calling him to healing.
    He bounded to the top of the three wide stairs. Must reach the music; must touch the music; must…
    But the music was her . Erin stood, arms held up to the sky, head thrown back. A silvery light played around her body and soared upward from her hands as the notes she sang soared upward from her throat. She sang a wordless melody of love and loss and homecoming. She sang and somehow, deep inside Ven’s soul, he knew she sang of healing.
    Of healing .
    Riley.
    He glanced down at her pale, still face, resting on his arm in the same unconscious state into which she’d lapsed when they’d arrived at the Temple. He didn’t think, didn’t worry, didn’t wonder.
    He simply acted. In one leap he flew from the Temple doorway to the bottom of the outside steps. In another leap he stood in front of Erin and placed his precious bundle on the ground at her feet. Kneeling in front of her, he turned his face in supplication up to Erin, to the gem singer from legend who had somehow sung her way into his heart, and he spoke a single word.
    â€œPlease.”
    The song continued to pour from her lips, but she slowly bent her head to gaze at him. Wildness raged in the burning intensity of her blue eyes, and the planes of her face were cast in glowing marble. She was suddenly more goddess than witch: terrible and beautiful and pitiless. She looked down upon him, and she sang.
    He tried again, tried to reach the softness—the humanity—buried below the hardness of the living gemstone she had become. He tried again because he loved Riley as a sister. Loved her and her child more than his own life.
    He tried again because part of his soul demanded that he do so.
    â€œErin,” he said, wondering how the simple voice of a warrior could be heard through a song fit to grace the stars in the night sky. “Erin, please. She’s dying.”
    Slowly, ever so slowly, Erin knelt down until her face