* * *
Calista had served as Thetis’ personal attendant for the passage of two spring tides. After Evadne had assured Thetis that Calista’s behavior had infinitely improved, Thetis had commanded Calista to reside in the Maretheon. With some regret, she had said her goodbyes to Evadne and Philyra.
Her precise duty in the Marethon was unclear: she shadowed Thetis’ every step but did little else. Moreover, Thetis went out of her way to be kind to Calista and to glorify Atlantis. Occasionally, she mused that this side of Thetis’ personality was more favorable, but she was not fool enough to trust the switch completely.
“Listen,” Thetis chided, and Calista’s head snapped up.
Thetis stood in the middle of a group of greying men dressed in long blue tunics. They were the patrons of each quadrant of Atlantis, who managed the areas and reported to Thetis in case of a major problem. Before the meeting, Thetis had told Calista to observe the proceedings closely.
Still, Calista’s attention would drift to Hadrian, and to Evadne’s vow to help her escape. She fiddled with the light green fabric of her robe. She hadn’t seen him since the morning of her release when his visits had stopped suddenly. Neither had she and Evadne discussed her departure again.
Under Thetis’ watchful eye, Calista had been kept within the Maretheon in case the Waveguide should need her services. The rule chafed. She had grown up a proconsul’s daughter who had the run of her villa, Portus Tarrus, and the beach beyond. Now, she was little more than a servant tied to her mistress.
“Waveguide...we would speak to you privately,” said a hawk-nosed man, eyeing Calista suspiciously.
Thetis sniffed. “Whatever you wish to say to me, you can say before her.”
Calista’s eyes glazed over again. She would have rather been trapped in Evadne’s villa than sitting here. She had been not seen anyone but those with business with Thetis since she had been brought to the Maretheon. Calista was surprised to find how much she missed Evadne and even Philyra. She sipped a sweet red nectar, squeezed from strange Atlantian fruit.
A man ran towards the Waveguide, startling the huddle of patrons like a flock of pigeons.
“Waveguide! Water is breaching the barrier. You must come!” His blue eyes darted worriedly.
The storm-struck ocean above the dome had turned iron-grey. Unbeknownst to Calista, churning furiously, the currents had been seeping through Atlantis’ invisible barrier and the leak threatened to cascade through.
Thetis stood up swiftly but looked unsurprised. “Gentlemen, I’m sorry but this meeting will have to be postponed. Follow me, Calista. Observe closely this time, girl!”
They bowed as she left.
Once the patrons were out of sight, Thetis said, “Did you see how they wished to send you away? They would look for a crack to manipulate me, to dictate the terms of our meeting. It would have shifted the power in their direction.”
Thetis had been extracting pearls from her daily interactions for Calista’s benefit and Calista appreciate their importance for life in either Atlantis or in Rome. She had learned more about politics and land management under a month of Thetis’ tutelage than she had during her whole life Above.
The taller woman strode powerfully ahead. Calista skipped to stay at her heels. Thetis seemed calm, but when Calista looked over at the lad, his face was white with fear. Calista looked overhead and shivered. If that dome were to break, if Thetis did not reach the edge in time, then the ocean would collapse upon Atlantis with all the weight and unstoppability of an avalanche. Calista could too easily imagine her back cracking with the force of the water, the struggle to breathe as saltwater filled her nose and mouth, bubbling before her eyes while the world grew black...
Thetis drew her attention back to the present. “For all the other work I do, I am called Waveguide for my main duty: I guide the water away from Atlantis, but sometimes, the strength of the ocean requires extra reinforcement of the barrier.”
“But how do you actually keep the water away?” Calista asked, perturbed despite herself.
Thetis gave Calista a mysterious look and no answer.
As they walked towards their destination, it grew colder and the fine hair on her arms stood up in a futile attempt to preserve heat. Wind as well, which was mostly nonexistent in Atlantis, whistled icily, cutting through the fabric of her peplos. As the palaces receded, and they drew closer to the border, Atlantis darkened. Frigid water splashed Calista’s face like rain. It was salty in her mouth. Both Calista and Thetis were soon drenched.
Calista looked back on the city. The white marble glowed in the dark, but she could not pick out Evadne’s villa. It looked lovely, haunting. But she knew that however beautiful, whatever her blood, Atlantis could never be home…but would it not be a wonder to be the ruler? …And Thetis could keep her word and have Pyp and her mother rescued, and they could all live here happily—while Avaritus escaped scot-free. She frowned.
“Calista!”
Pocketing her thoughts, Calista hiked her peplos past her knees and ran up the hill after Thetis. Thetis was stood at the very edge of Atlantis. Far from the glow of the city, it was forlorn, black as pitch. The waves pounded against the barrier like Scythian wardrums. The earth beneath their feet was soaked with seawater. She held her hair back against the whipping wind. The shield between the ocean and Atlantis had thinned to a whisper.
“The border is loosened regularly to let fishermen catch seafood, but that is done with careful regulation and I can also manipulate the dome to create rain. Because of the barrier’s fluidity the sea can occasionally start to break through.” Thetis struck the shield, and her passed easily into the sea. Calista shuddered to think what would have happened if the dome had been so permeable when she had pressed herself against it.
When Thetis brought her hand back, beads of water gleamed on her bronze skin. “This is what comes of inattention. And this is how we remedy it.”
As if embracing the whole sea, she opened her arms wide. Her golden eyes were closed, her cheeks tight. Calista gasped as the ocean beyond the barrier swirled white and green and slowly rose. The barrier glowed. Power radiated from Thetis like a brilliant light. The water, which had been collecting in puddles, and the dampness in the air, also ascended, bringing a cool, light breeze. The bubble around Atlantis stopped glowing and grew solid once more.
“This process is best done during the full moon, with the help of the spring tides,” Thetis explained. Despite the hard work, her body stood as erect as ever.
Calista’s gaze caught on the scar from the battle of Portus Tarrus, now only a faint raised silver line. The memory still caused unpleasant shivers to crawl across her spine. “Why cannot Neptune do this? Surely he should for he resides here.”
She tried to keep her attention on Thetis’ answer, but the battle started unfolding irrepressibly in her mind. The shrieks and iron-smell of blood and the bright green eyes of the man she had killed drowned out Thetis’ answer.
CHAPTER XVII