Atlantis Cursed

By BJ Kurtz

Nicias was well on the way to making a name for himself; he was gifted with telekinesis, part of the Immortals, and one of the top soldiers in the Atlantis Fighting Forces. In a world where Atlantis thrives under a second chance at life, his only care was for his own survival. But, when the leaders of the Immortals asks him to look after a small child—to raise her and protect her abilities from the war-driven army—he had to overcome his own haunting past and focus on an innocent life. He hesitantly takes the assignment and soon learns there are deep mysteries surrounding her forgotten past. Many condemn her as a curse plaguing their community. Nicias finds himself questioning if this sweet child could possibly be the murderer everyone believes. Atlantis Cursed is a story about love and loss, hate and corruption. But, most of all, it is a story about betrayal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BJ Kurtz
• Release date: May 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310871016

BJ Kurtz

B.J. currently resides in her hometown in Arizona where she enjoys instructing students in high school and college. She discovered her passion for writing while doing weekly writing assignments in the sixth grade and has been hooked on the craft of storytelling ever since. She is an associate member of the Society of Southwestern Authors. For more information about her and any upcoming books, please visit her website: www.bjkurtz.com.

Book preview

Prologue

To the Senate of our great Atlantis:

There is no doubt in my mind that the 43rd Division of the Army of Atlantis has found its way into the lap of the devil himself. No words can describe the evils we have seen in the few short days we have been in the grand city of Amphitrite.

As we entered the city gates, stories of a curse upon the city began to assail us. At every turn, on every street corner we heard cries for help. Never before has our country experienced such evil as this.

Every one of the stories begins the same: Out of the depths of the forest appears a lone white wolf with eyes of deepest blue. Out of the depths of hell it came to spread punishment on the people of Atlantis, punishment unending until forgiveness is granted for mistakes committed.

When the waters parted all those centuries ago to swallow our tiny island, our ancestors were transferred to this planet for a second chance at life. Now people say this second chance has been violated and our promise to never repeat the corruptness of the past has been shattered.

Twenty people murdered in their own homes, over forty injured, and an entire city in total chaos. How long this infection will take to spread to the remaining communities on this side of the prairie cannot be determined. All I know is that when it does, we could be looking at total anarchy and the collapse of a government that has stood strong for over two millenniums.

I write to you as a desperate man in a dangerous situation. I write to you, the Senate, controller of Atlantis’ fate, in the hope that you will know what to do before it’s too late and our grand civilization once again finds its fate at the bottom of the sea.

Honorably Yours,

Superior Arcesilas of the 43 DAA

2822 AT

Chapter One

2823 AT

Her screams bounced off the trees surrounding them. There was no doubt the cries reached the ears of the neighboring city of Atlas. There was no doubt the citizens knew the source belonged not to ancient spirits residing in the woods, but rather to this child, someone they had watched walk the streets hand in hand with her father on many an occasion. Yet, Menelaus also knew as he stood straight backed, that none would come.

The heat of the blaze warmed his face, lighting the small valley surrounding them. Mingled with her screams that ripped at his ears were the grunts and cries of the five men holding white-knuckled to the iron chains. The small house looked huge as the flames licked out of windows and cracked wooden beams. Towers of smoke swirled toward the heavens.

Menelaus stood at the edge of the forest with his arms crossed, watching his men. He tried to keep all emotion from his face. He had to portray a ruthless leader, otherwise his men would question his authority. So, on the outside he stood strong, an authority figure, but on the inside doubt slowly crept into his thoughts.

The girl screamed once more, tugging at the chains, her feet marking a path in the pine needles. Menelaus marveled at the strength her voice still held, thinking it to have gone out by now. But, he understood the passion in her voice, her determination to rip her arms off if that’s what it took to escape. She did it for her family, those trapped inside their cottage as the fire slowly roasted them.

Menelaus frowned at the five men as they exchanged glances. Their muscles bulged, veins readily protruding under their skin as they grimaced and held her back. At least her super human strength was true to rumor. If the stories were true, her grief would soon turn into a deadly weapon. If they weren’t true, he could only find shelter in lands belonging to Hades.

The only way to test the validity of her power was to kill what she held most dear. He knew this, and yet, as the flames reached heavenward like a child for its mother, he could see a new evil in his decision. Could he ever come back from this? Her screams tore at his ears, growing the possibility she could actually be innocent.

The men before him struggled as they each held fast to one of the five chains linked to the iron plates circling her wrists, ankles, and neck. The ten-year-old girl bared her teeth, streaks of tears washing a path through her dirty face. Her blond hair fell along her back, matted from disturbed sleep.

He couldn’t take this anymore. Menelaus opened his mouth, but, before any words exited, she turned her head to face him. In a moment, he caught a slight sparkle of excitement in her eyes. The smoke burned his nostrils, reminding him what he was about to do. Instead, he snapped his jaw shut. As she continued to struggle, he watched. She was grieving, he decided, but not shocked. A child should be shocked to see such death…unless she was desensitized to it.

Menelaus jumped at the small growl that suddenly rumbled in her chest. His heart beat harder, face hardening at the animal-like sound. Hold on boys! he hollered over their agonizing groans. It’s almost time!

Their feet dragged through the dirt, the child’s strength doubling. She practically snarled, her tears drying. Here we go, he thought. The townspeople told him the only way to discover the truth was by torturing her, driving her to the point of utter rage. Time would either condemn him or justify his actions, but that growl was a step in the right direction.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, her big, round eyes pleading. Guilt twisted his stomach. Then a white light flashed across her eyes like lightning. Her plea dropped into a growl, revealing sharp, pointed teeth. His breath stopped. Turning back to the burning house, she tugged once more, inching the men closer to the flames.

Get ready! he commanded.

Just as he finished the sentence, it happened. All at once, the chains snapped. He hadn’t been expecting it to come with such force and neither had his men, who tumbled to the ground once the pressure released.

The child fell onto all four paws, her transformation instantly complete. The wolf bolted toward the burning home

Rage filled his body. All he could think about was the stories he had been told of the bitter destruction she had caused—and how he could harness such power. He could just as clearly see this opportunity slip from his fingertips. Get her!

The men scrambled to their feet just as the roof of the house collapsed with a thunderous roar. At the same moment, the wolf spun around as quick as a whip and charged the group. Her beastly eyes and fierce teeth caused Menelaus to take a couple steps back. Her gaze locked with his as she flew past the men.

Menelaus landed hard on the ground, her claws digging into his chest. He struggled against her, pushing her snapping teeth away from his neck. There was such a bloodlust in her eyes, his hopes and dreams began to crumble into fears of survival. A chain looped around her neck, relieving Menelaus’ aching arms.

All five men pulled her off their king before pinning her to the ground. She threw herself against them as a young man reached into his pocket. The needle was inserted into her back. It took only seconds before she closed her eyes and went limp.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he stood up and dusted off his shirt. He swore silently when he saw the rip in his new pants. How would he explain this to an already suspicious wife? More importantly, how would he keep her from running to an already suspicious senate?

He watched his men lift the girl into the iron carriage standing beside the forest line and lock it.

You okay, King Menelaus? a voice asked from his side.

King Menelaus looked at the soldier. Fine.

You should get that scratch looked at. It might be infected, the man said matter-of-factly.

Menelaus placed a finger on his left cheek, pain exploding from the touch. Wetness warmed his fingertips. He could feel it seep down is face in a large stream, but that was the least of his worries. He needed to get this girl into the training camp. Only then could he claim full credit for her capture, and subsequently all the military gain her presence would achieve.

He turned to face Superior Brygus, a large man with sharp eyes. Where’s the girl?

Brygus replied in his deep voice, She’s chained in the carriage.

Menelaus nodded. Your men did well today.

Brygus’ chin rose high in the air. It honors me to do your bidding, Sir. I know you are the one who should control Atlantis. Your finding this girl only proves it.

Menelaus smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. Your loyalty will be recognized when I control Atlantis, Superior.

They watched a young soldier make his way over. She really put up a fight, didn’t she? he said, his breath still coming heavy.

Yeah, well you would, too, if your family were dying in that fire, Brygus scolded.

Why did we have to kill her family? he asked.

In one swoop, Brygus knocked the boy’s legs from under him. He yelped as he impacted with the ground. Now, if this were a senate-ordered, military mission, you would spend a night in a cell for questioning so informally.

The boy stood slowly. So sorry, sir. Didn’t mean any disrespect. He directed the last part to Menelaus.

Menelaus waved him off. Don’t you worry, my boy. While tragic, this was the only way to get her to change. Besides, we saved lives today, gentlemen. She was responsible for the torture and deaths of twenty or more citizens, and maybe even the disappearance of the 43rd division. Menelaus couldn’t help but smile at the black carriage in the shadows of the night. He could harness her power and nothing would stop him from taking control of the capitol. Now, round everyone up and let's get back to the palace.

As they left the burning house, Menelaus had the uneasy feeling that he had left something behind.

Chapter Two

2823 AT

A single lantern hanging in the passageway lit the town jail. The orange light trickled into the cement cell, illuminating it. Nicias sat hunched in the corner, his back against the cold wall. He mindlessly stared at the strands of dark brown hair that fell forward in a curtain above his nose. The musty air smelled of stale urine. Not the worst jail visited.

The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the prison. He looked up, his hair still partly shielding his view. He waited silently as the man neared him. The dark shadow stopped in front of the cell, the warm light from the lantern glowing softly behind him. Although Nicias couldn’t see it, he knew the old man smiled.

Good evening, Nicias. I pray you’re not too upset.

Why should I be upset? he asked in a hoarse voice. You only betrayed me in order to interfere with something I told you not to touch. Not only that, but you destroyed every bit of righteousness left in the government bestowed upon you.

I do wish you wouldn’t be so stubborn about your ways, Nicias. The world has changed. It’s not the same as it was when you were born a century ago. Your philosophies just don’t fit anymore.

Nicias shook his head, narrowing his gaze. Oh, they fit, King. They fit just fine. You are the one trying to destroy the world and mold society into something it isn’t. You are the one whose philosophies do not fit.

He heard rats scurry across the concrete floor as the men stared at each other. King Menelaus’ thick mustache and eyebrows gave his face a devilish look. Nicias didn’t know what the old man had planned, but he knew it could only end in misery.

Finally, Menelaus said, It is done, Nicias. You will be released in the morning to continue your military duties.

Do you know why I am imprisoned, King?

Menelaus stared at him. His eyebrows creased as he frowned. A man as smart as yourself must not need to ask. When Nicias didn’t respond, Menelaus said with a shake of his head, You attacked a superior officer, Nicias. You approached him and broke his nose. And, like an idiot, you did it in front of the entire army. Some kind of punishment is sure to follow an act such as that from a lieutenant such as yourself.

Like Hades. If only there were no bars separating them, he could satisfy his urge.

You deny breaking his nose? Menelaus asked, raising the pitch in his voice.

No.

The King’s smile taunted him. So why did you do it, Nicias?

We had a difference of opinion. He wouldn’t stand up to you, even though the act was morally wrong in every way. Nicias was silent for a moment. He tried to control himself, but he could feel his temper getting the best of him. It was a losing battle and the dam eventually broke. She is just an innocent child! How dare you deprive her of her innocence? You don’t have to scar her so deeply.

I know you think I’ll misuse her, but I won’t. Besides, there is nowhere else for her to go.

Why?

Menelaus sighed, bowing his head. Nicias couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Unfortunately, her family was accidentally killed in a fire four days ago, just as we arrived at her house. She is orphaned and has no one left, Nicias, he said, looking up. You can’t tell me she deserves to live on the streets when I can grant her a life worth living.

Nicias breathed deeply. His hands began to sweat from the electricity running through them. Nicias stepped forward, fighting the need to grab the king by his throat. A life of war in the military is not a life. For a child such as she—

By the time she would have been old enough, I would be long in my grave and Atlantis’ war would be over. The king took a step toward the cell, the light highlighting his iron gaze. She has a gift, Nicias. She can fight better than any of your men, and she hasn’t had any type of training. Just imagine what she’ll be like once we train her in the art of war. She’ll live a much better life with the military family than on her own on the streets, and she won’t be killing our citizens in the process.

Scars like this will ruin her before she has a chance to grow, Nicias argued. She’ll learn to hate. You’ll destroy her and turn her into something she was not meant to be.

Menelaus paused. I’m sending her to District One, Nicias. They’ll train her for two years so she can perform the demands I’ll ask of her. We’ve already signed her up for thirty years of service.

She should have the innocent years granted to her by law!

Menelaus’ face hardened. I don’t have that long. I need her now. Besides, at the age in which the law states a child can join the military, she’d be beyond my reach. I’d be unable to mold her into the soulless soldier I need to win this war.

Clieto did not intend her for the work you ask. She is a gift, not a weapon!

Menelaus’ eyes narrowed. I warn you, if you find her and try to save her, I’ll have you arrested and imprisoned for millenniums. With that, he turned to leave.

Nicias charged the gate. He grabbed the cold steel bars and screamed, Menelaus. Menelaus! You will pay for this. When I’m finished, you won’t have a coin to give Charon.

The slamming of the door left Nicias alone in the lifeless prison. He stared at the softly glowing lantern, willing himself to disobey every rule ever taught. He wanted to rip the gate from the cell. He didn’t care if it was considered abuse of power. Nicias gripped the bars until his knuckles grew white.

Grinding his teeth, he knew he couldn’t. As much as he wanted to hang every single Immortal on that committee, he was not ready to throw his life away. Nicias stepped away from the gate. Sweeping his hand back, he swung it in front of him with all his force. Electricity vibrated his skin, burning the ends of his fingertips. The invisible force released from his hand and, only moments later, the wall’s lantern flew off its hook and crashed onto the floor. Oil burned only moments before extinguishing itself. The soft white glow of the Selene easing through the prison’s window eased his nerves. Nicias closed his eyes, hearing his own breath as he breathed deeply.

He walked back to the corner of the cell and sat down on the dirt floor. The wall still held some of his body heat, the warmth welcoming him back. He glanced at the small, barred window above him. The tension in his muscles had just about eased when he felt a presence in the room.

His newest visitor was a small man with a narrow face. This man stood closer to the bars, well within arm’s reach. Nicias scoffed. Hello, Hermes.

Nicias didn’t care what anyone said. This man should not be honored with a mythical name just because he could travel faster than any other thing alive. Yet, naming him Imbecile wouldn’t be politically correct, or so he had been told.

You don’t sound happy to see me, Nicias. His black hair was slicked back, making his narrow face appear longer. He was a short man, which added to his godlike image.

"Am I ever glad to see you? Before the man could answer, Nicias continued. Let me guess, you are here on orders from those ruling The Committee, people who preach an honorable life and expect all to live without sin." Nicias made an effort to dodge them, and, when he couldn’t, felt the overwhelming desire to slit their throats to keep from hearing them speak. The fact Hermes served such a crew was further reason to hate him. But Nicias decided it best to leave this last part unsaid.

Hermes knelt before the gates. He gave Nicias a look many mothers give their young. I am not your enemy, Nicias.

Yeah, right.

But I bring bad news.

Nicias picked up a piece of straw and folded it in his fingers. I heard about the girl. I’m sorry. I tried to stop him.

Hermes nodded. Your efforts have been noted, especially since it had not been asked of you. However, that’s not why I’m here. Hermes paused. Well…it is, but it isn’t.

Nicias tossed the straw back onto the ground, not liking the word noted. You’re not making any sense, Hermes.

When Hermes gripped the bars, Nicias could see smooth fingers on hands that had never worked a field or raised a sword. That girl lost so much four nights ago. She’s going to lose much more if Menelaus’ plan is put into effect. She needs a protector now more than ever.

Wasn’t she assigned one at her birth?

Hermes nodded, his eyes somber.

So why does she need a protector…and what does this have to do with me?

Hermes looked at Nicias. He started to say something then stopped. By the look on his face, Nicias knew he was prepping his words. After a short moment, he said, Her father was her assigned protector, Nicias.

Nicias laughed, shaking his head. You expect me to believe that? Protectors are immortal and immortals are sterile.

Nobody knows how immortals came to be. They are born from two mortal people and are indeed sterile, so therefore are very rare.

Nicias rolled his eyes at the history lesson, trying not to feel insulted. He half believed the man couldn’t help being this way, but part of him believed he did it to be purposefully irritating.

However, this girl was a gift from Clieto. The Committee says She wanted the child to be unique and special, so She arranged for an immortal man to be able to grant a child to his mortal wife.

Or that’s the way the Committee explained her freak accident, Nicias commented under his breath. After a moment, he added, But I thought the child’s family died in that fire?

Hermes nodded. The entire family.

And how the hell did he die? Nicias demanded, ready for this conversation to either be over or finally arrive to the point.

Hermes looked away, his eyes sad. Well, when your skin is melting and your wife is lying dead beside you…. Hermes looked back up at Nicias. His passion was another godlike trait.

In a solemn voice, he continued, He was in so much pain, Nicias. He had failed his wife and child. The fire didn’t kill him…not yet.

So how did he die? I mean, you yourself said he did.

He asked for mercy and Clieto granted it to him.

Nicias let his mouth hang open for a second. She granted him death?

"Because of the circumstances, yes. He held on for almost an hour. Could you have lasted in so much pain for that long? Even an immortal’s body can’t handle such conditions as a blazing fire all around."

He just left his daughter and assignment behind to fend for herself because he couldn’t handle the pain? Nicias argued, shaking his head. What honor is there in that?

We promised to take care of his daughter, which brings me to you.

There it was. Nicias sat up slowly. Even the cricket happily chirping nearby disappeared from the dark cell as he focused his attention on the messenger. What are you talking about?

As I said. She needs a protector now more than ever.

Nicias scoffed. You have got to be kidding me! Do you know why I have never been a protector before? he asked, pointing to his chest.

That doesn’t matter now.

Like hell it doesn’t! I’m not protector material. I break the rules…regularly. Clieto knows I’m not responsible enough to handle such a situation. My name is never even considered for the job. I wanna know what’s changed.

Hermes looked him straight in the eye. The intensity stopped Nicias’ speech and caused him to sit up straight. You never would have given up. You would have made it out of that fire, let your body heal in a few months, then get your assignment back, even if she weren’t your daughter—you said so yourself. That takes a strong person. We need the strongest for this delicate job.

Do you know how many times my name has come up for banishment, Hermes? I know that She does, he added, pointing to the ceiling. You actually think I am going to change just because I have another to look after?

Hermes shook his head. No, he answered. By his tone, Nicias suspected a bit of regret in the word.

Nicias stood, causing Hermes to follow. Then why are you giving me this job?

Hermes was silent for a long moment. The moonlight glanced off his smooth face, reflecting against his brown eyes. Finally, he shrugged. You’re all we’ve got. The Committee doesn’t want her in the army. They don’t want her to be Menelaus’ killer.

They don’t control the mortals, Nicias said dryly. No matter how much they want to. Nicias paused. Do they expect me to control him?

No, Hermes said, a little too forcefully. He paced the front of the cell. They expect you to save her. He stopped, squaring his shoulders. Come on, Nicias. Clieto is putting her faith in you for once in your life. Stop acting like the fool you are. Step up and show her She’s not wrong.

Nicias looked away. He served in the army. Growing up, he had spent most of his time in a jail cell. He knew he wasn’t the right person for the job, and yet it seemed everyone was putting their faith in him. He didn’t think he could take on so much responsibility. How could someone like him adequately raise a child?

He looked back at Hermes, helplessly trying to find a good reason not to comply. I’m doing another man’s job, he argued one last time.

Hermes nodded. But you’re going to do it better.

Nicias sighed deeply, knowing he had no other choice. He slumped into a sitting position, his mind unwilling to give him any more excuses. Hermes would probably just shoot them down anyway. Hermes raised his brow, questioning. Nicias hesitated, then gave a single nod.

Hermes smiled. In the blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving Nicias in the dark silence once again.

Chapter Three

2823 AT

The Captain of the District One Training Camp, DOTC, stood upon the field watching his boys fight. The boys on the field ranged from teenagers to almost adults. They swung sticks in the air, clacking the wood together when their opponent blocked the attack. The goal was to rest their stick on their opponent’s shoulder, a victorious kill for this game. That isn’t to say some didn’t whack their opponent on the knee to immobilize them for the victory.

At any time, the camp could hold two thousand soldiers between the ages of sixteen and twenty. A boy would be brought to the camp at the precarious age of sixteen, be emotionally torn down and built back up into the mold the government found appropriate for a soldier. This was the captain’s job, and he did it well. That’s why he was in control of the first district and not on the other side of Neptune Island, controlling the second.

The boys in the District Two Training Camp normally held jobs like guards and escorts. They worked for the Atlantis Department of Protection, ADP. Occasionally, when needed during war, they would be sent to fight on the battlefield, but that was as a last resort. Those who served there were the boys who wanted to be a soldier but lacked the talent it took to survive in the business. They rarely surpassed the lowest rank of Motion. Training such a camp would have been a disgrace to his title and abilities. He never doubted that. But, sometimes, when watching these boys on the training field, he wondered how long he could keep doing this. How long could he keep training boys, knowing they were to immediately go and die in a war plaguing Atlantis.

No, no, Dirce! he hollered across the field. That will get you killed on the battlefield!

The captain jotted a note on his clipboard, then continued his observation. Helios’ rays beat down on him, slowly roasting his skin to leather. He heard the scurried footsteps of his page across the dirt before seeing his page. The nine-year-old boy stopped beside the captain, gasping for air. The captain glanced at the boy.

Bracing his hands against his thighs, he gasped, So…sorry…sir. There’s… an…emergency at…the front…gates…sir.

What’s the emergency?

The royal…army…escorts have arrived…with a carriage…that growls.

The captain looked back at his boys on the field. He wondered if he could find hired help who wouldn’t over exaggerate situations. The last crisis turned out to be a lack of salt for the boy’s stew. Although, the captain supposed that’s why they were the help and nothing more. Can it wait until we finish here? he said, more focused on Dirce, who just tripped on his own two feet and tumbled to the ground. The captain scribbled D2 next to the boy’s name.

His page straightened to standing. His brown eyes remained wide circles. The captain also noticed a slight tremor in his hands. No, sir. The royal…escorts are going to abandon the carriage and…the staff don’t know how to deal with what’s inside.

Keep your feet moving and your eyes focused, Brygus! The captain scolded. Never had he had so many problems with one child with such potential! Remembering the page, the captain asked, What’s in the carriage?

The wrath of hell. The boy seemed to say the words without meaning to. His entire body went rigid.

The captain simply glared down at him, locking his jaw.

The page adjusted his shirt and stood straight. "I don’t know, but it ‘bout took off poor Diane’s hand. Got a real good chunk of her. The girl went screaming to the doctor, and nobody goes there on purpose."

The captain stared. This was starting to sound more important than missing salt. There might actually be a mini crisis on the tiny island. Finally, he looked up and began searching the field for one of his lieutenants. When he found one, he whistled and the man glanced up at him.

The captain silently placed two fingers in front of his eyes. Reading the signal, the lieutenant nodded. With his boys now properly supervised, he turned and began walking back to the gates.

He could hear the yelling before he rounded the corner. The escorts and his staff were screaming at each other. Their shoulders were squared straight at one another, hands clenched into fists. Somewhere nearby, there was also the sound of barking.

What in Clieto’s name is going on here? his voice boomed over the noise.

The bickering ended abruptly, everyone turning to face him. The barking seemed to stop as well, although he could still hear a low growl.

The lead escort, a scruffy-looking man in his mid-forties, scowled at him and said, You control this camp?

Yes, I do.

Then this is yer problem now. She’s done injured half my crew, nearly killed da others.

Who? the captain questioned.

Weren’t told her name, but people been callin’ her Pandora.

And what the hell am I to do with her?

The escort dug into his dirt-covered pants and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to the captain. He touched it with only two fingers, his skin crawling with even that much contact.

The paper crackled as he unfolded it and read it silently. When he got to the bottom, he noticed the King of Atlantis’ signature. The captain looked at the repulsive escort and said, This means nothing to me. It seems Menelaus is the only one who doesn’t know he holds ceremonial power only, or perhaps he is in a constant state of denial, he finished, letting the paper float to the ground.

Either way, I ain’t takin’ this creature back to the island. Couldn’t even take her out the carriage an’ load her on the ship.

Wait a second, The captain snapped. It took you how many days to get here?

Got her at Navy Headquarters, but she come from Atlas. Them folks don’t take her out neither.

So, by the time she crossed the mountains, entered the prairies, then reached Government Island, it had taken five days, the captain calculated. She crossed Government Island then traveled across land to the Navy Headquarters. That would have taken two days. The sail here, on a calm sea, would take four hours. Am I right?

Yes.

So, she has been in that carriage for over a week straight? The captain said.

The filth of a man shrank under the captain’s glare. Look…

The word dragged across his skin like nails. The captain clenched his fists as hard as he could. Get off my island.

Mister…

Get off my island, he said, emphasizing each word. I’m trained in the art of extreme torture, ten times that inflicted on this innocent girl. Now, get off my island!

The escorts swung into their saddles. Their horses kicked up dirt as they raced toward port. The captain breathed deeply and calmed himself before turning to face the iron carriage.

For an instant, he could see small blue eyes staring at him through the open window before disappearing inside. The captain looked over at his page. Get Doctor down here. And tell Cook to fix a meal for our guest.

Yes, sir. The page turned and raced toward the hospital.

The captain turned back to the dark carriage. He shook his head slowly, not knowing how he was going to get her out. He stepped up to the carriage, reached out, and opened the door. He could see fresh blood on the seat and guessed it was Diane’s. The smell of urine mixed with dirt and vomit pierced his nostrils, making him choke. There was a deep, sweet smell that hung heavy in his lungs. Smoke?

As his eyes slowly adjusted to the limited light, he stared into the haunting shadows of the far side of the carriage. He could hear heavy breathing on the floor in the corner. He had to be careful or he could lose a hand as well. The captain eased away from the carriage, blocking any path of escape with his frame.

In as calm a voice as possible, he said, I hear they call you Pandora.

The child growled.

That’s weird. Trying to ignore it, he continued, "I normally call all here by their title. My men are called Soldier, the cook Cook, the doctor Doc, and so on. I don’t know what to call you, though."

Another growl.

I don’t think I can make that noise.

Silence.

We’re making progress, he thought. You can call me Captain, everyone else does.

Silence.

My boys are out training on the field, the captain stepped forward, then retreated when she growled angrily. So, he continued, you won’t be disturbed for a few hours. He paused for a moment. When there was no response, he added, I could give you a tour of the place, and, by that time, Cook should have your meal ready. What do you say?

A fierce growl.

I’ll take that as a no—more of a hell no, really.

A long silence settled into place, broken only by an occasional growl from the carriage. The captain sighed. What was he going to do? He had this furious girl in a carriage and no way of getting her out. Just when he was about to speak again, a blur of fur flew from the carriage.

He shouted, all air from his lungs forcibly pushed out as he impacted the ground. He barely registered the girl lying on top of him as his lungs screamed in pain. She bounced to her feet and raced toward the gates.

The captain groaned. How old was she? He imagined this was how being trampled by a horse would feel. He sat up an inch at a time, hand reaching to the back of his head. Warm liquid dampened the tip of his fingers and he cringed at the stinging from a small wound.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the girl. She had stopped and turned to face him. She tilted her head sideways, gazing at him with what looked like concern.

The captain pulled his legs up to his chest and leaned on his knees. Placing his hands on his temples, he closed his eyes. The world spun too quickly, and he just wished it would stop.

When he opened his eyes, she stood in front of him, her face soft. Her blond hair was ratted and tangled. What looked to be a soot-covered nightgown, had stains along the bottom and neckline. Her filthy skin and bare feet completed the picture of neglect. Her swollen eyes had red circles around them and her nose was red and dry. The poor girl has been through hell and back, he realized suddenly.

Are you okay? she asked, her voice so innocent it could belong to a saint.

The captain frowned. Well, I was until you decided to throw me to the ground.

She lowered her gaze. I’m sorry.

The captain studied her. He was supposed to train her, but she was the youngest ever brought to the island. Not to mention, she was a girl, which was still rare. Yet, something inside told him she was built to fight. After a moment, he said, I know you are.

I didn’t wanna stay in there no more, she said with tears glistening her blue eyes. It holds the smell of death.

The captain hesitated. How does death smell?

She ground her teeth. A small tear rolled down her check, drawing a clean line in the soot. Like smoke.

A fire, he thought. Did you see death come in smoke?

She nodded.

Where?

My home, she said, her voice cracking. I screamed for help, for someone to stop them…but no one came.

Oh, dear Clieto, he prayed. Death took your family with the smoke?

She nodded, jaw quivering.

Why would anyone do that to a child? Why would they let her witness such evil as that? He should have killed the escort like he wanted to. Clieto knows they deserved it.

He could see the raw marks reddening her wrists and ankles, from chains no doubt. The men must have taken them off somewhere along the way. No wonder she dashed out with such force. The sight of freedom was too much for her to ignore.

What would Menelaus want with this girl? What was so special? Why train a girl in the art of war and at such an early age? No matter what answers he could think, none pointed to something honorable.

The captain slowly stood. She watched him cautiously, looking ready to bail at any moment. The captain smiled, palms out to the side. "I won’t hurt you. If you can believe that, you’ll be one step closer to healing the pain."

The child breathed deeply, a few tears escaping from her eyes. After a moment, she nodded. Her soft hand reached out and folded around his rough one. It looked so miniature in comparison. The captain’s smile widened.

I’m ready for that tour now, Captain, she said strongly.

Chapter Four

2823 AT

The sky looked ominous, gray clouds covered blocking Helios. The captain could hear a breeze whistle past the log cabins. In the winter, the cabins stood in shadows of loneliness, looking lost among miles of trees and fields.

A hundred cabins speckled the far-west side