“And how does that work, exactly?”
“Anything forged in Atlantis’s fires will aid us. The merest cup could nourish a multitude, if held by the right practitioner. The slightest blade or spear…”
Armaeus gestured again. Below us on the table, a more traditional schematic appeared with illustrations. There was a dagger, a hatchet, and several star-shaped blades.
I glanced back at him. “Please tell me I’m not supposed to actually use those. I’m a little rusty on my hatchet throwing.”
“The downfall of Atlantis was not that it grew beyond its military prowess, but that it bent and manipulated that prowess into magical form. Its wars were won not solely by might, but by the magic that powered its weapons. These pieces are all nondescript blades. In the hands of the Unconnected, they are simple tools. But in the hands of someone with psychic ability, they become far deadlier.” He tapped the screen. “A shield can protect an entire army, a dagger can serve as the focal point for laser rays. Seas can be split with a staff.”
“You’re scaring me here with the biblical overtones.”
“The greatest stories ever told often have their root in yet older stories, Miss Wilde. You more than most should know that.”
“Okay, but…when was Atlantis officially destroyed? How long ago?”
“That is a subject of much debate. The artifacts of the civilization resemble those of ancient Greece and Rome, but its date of destruction is considered far earlier. Far, far earlier. Too early to make sense of the artifacts we have recovered, artifacts which made their way to friendlier shores before Atlantis’s fall. Those pieces date to the golden age of antiquity, yet the records we have of Atlantis’s fall date well before that time. As if it was destroyed before it could have existed.”
I blinked at him, and he stood back to allow me space, but didn’t move far enough for me to break our intimate connection, not completely. “You’re saying it was shoved back in time somehow? That’s why it can’t be found? It was put back to a time when the island didn’t technically exist?”
He smiled. I’d seen Armaeus smile lots of times, but this one seemed…fiercer. Stronger. More dangerous.
“It is one of the more intriguing theories, I suspect you’ll agree?”
“You suspect correctly.” A curious buzzing sounded in my head, and I squinted at him. “Something’s different about you, isn’t it? Something important.”
Rather than answer me, Armaeus leaned close.
I stiffened. “What are you doing?”
“See with all your senses, Miss Wilde. Then tell me what is different.”
He bent down to kiss me, and it was the most natural thing in the world for me to match the movement. As his lips brushed mine, I sensed the undeniable surge of power filling me up, almost lifting me off my toes. He placed his hands on my lower back, drawing me into his body, and I let him do it too, which was so shocking that my senses pricked, telling me that something was wrong with this, something was off…and yet so, so on.
“What’s happening here?” I murmured against his lips. “Why am I not afraid of you?”
“You should never have feared me.” As he spoke, whorls of sensation skittered along my nerve endings. “Perhaps you’re simply realizing that.” Then he moved his mouth from my lips to trail a scorching line up to my ear, where his warm breath sent a surge of need through me, a mini whirlwind with nowhere to touch down. “You must prepare for your journey to Atlantis if you mean to go, Miss Wilde. The way is not an easy one. You will need to be strong.”
“My…what?”
Armaeus’s rumble of laughter sent shivers through me, and suddenly I couldn’t think of anything but taking my clothes off, right there in the conference room. There was none of the usual panic that accompanied his touch, no resistance, nothing but a knee-buckling want that made my mouth water and my blood burn with need. I sighed
“Anything forged in Atlantis’s fires will aid us. The merest cup could nourish a multitude, if held by the right practitioner. The slightest blade or spear…”
Armaeus gestured again. Below us on the table, a more traditional schematic appeared with illustrations. There was a dagger, a hatchet, and several star-shaped blades.
I glanced back at him. “Please tell me I’m not supposed to actually use those. I’m a little rusty on my hatchet throwing.”
“The downfall of Atlantis was not that it grew beyond its military prowess, but that it bent and manipulated that prowess into magical form. Its wars were won not solely by might, but by the magic that powered its weapons. These pieces are all nondescript blades. In the hands of the Unconnected, they are simple tools. But in the hands of someone with psychic ability, they become far deadlier.” He tapped the screen. “A shield can protect an entire army, a dagger can serve as the focal point for laser rays. Seas can be split with a staff.”
“You’re scaring me here with the biblical overtones.”
“The greatest stories ever told often have their root in yet older stories, Miss Wilde. You more than most should know that.”
“Okay, but…when was Atlantis officially destroyed? How long ago?”
“That is a subject of much debate. The artifacts of the civilization resemble those of ancient Greece and Rome, but its date of destruction is considered far earlier. Far, far earlier. Too early to make sense of the artifacts we have recovered, artifacts which made their way to friendlier shores before Atlantis’s fall. Those pieces date to the golden age of antiquity, yet the records we have of Atlantis’s fall date well before that time. As if it was destroyed before it could have existed.”
I blinked at him, and he stood back to allow me space, but didn’t move far enough for me to break our intimate connection, not completely. “You’re saying it was shoved back in time somehow? That’s why it can’t be found? It was put back to a time when the island didn’t technically exist?”
He smiled. I’d seen Armaeus smile lots of times, but this one seemed…fiercer. Stronger. More dangerous.
“It is one of the more intriguing theories, I suspect you’ll agree?”
“You suspect correctly.” A curious buzzing sounded in my head, and I squinted at him. “Something’s different about you, isn’t it? Something important.”
Rather than answer me, Armaeus leaned close.
I stiffened. “What are you doing?”
“See with all your senses, Miss Wilde. Then tell me what is different.”
He bent down to kiss me, and it was the most natural thing in the world for me to match the movement. As his lips brushed mine, I sensed the undeniable surge of power filling me up, almost lifting me off my toes. He placed his hands on my lower back, drawing me into his body, and I let him do it too, which was so shocking that my senses pricked, telling me that something was wrong with this, something was off…and yet so, so on.
“What’s happening here?” I murmured against his lips. “Why am I not afraid of you?”
“You should never have feared me.” As he spoke, whorls of sensation skittered along my nerve endings. “Perhaps you’re simply realizing that.” Then he moved his mouth from my lips to trail a scorching line up to my ear, where his warm breath sent a surge of need through me, a mini whirlwind with nowhere to touch down. “You must prepare for your journey to Atlantis if you mean to go, Miss Wilde. The way is not an easy one. You will need to be strong.”
“My…what?”
Armaeus’s rumble of laughter sent shivers through me, and suddenly I couldn’t think of anything but taking my clothes off, right there in the conference room. There was none of the usual panic that accompanied his touch, no resistance, nothing but a knee-buckling want that made my mouth water and my blood burn with need. I sighed
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