His echolocation revealed nothing larger than a tuna for half a mile around. The tumbled rocks of the sea bed hid no lurking sharks. Nonetheless, he stayed on high alert, circling under and around his sister and Neridia as they too descended.
Down the mate bond, he sensed Neridia’s fear rise the deeper that his sister carried her. Although the ocean was fairly shallow around Atlantis, it was clear her human eyes were struggling to cope with the dim sunlight filtering down from the mirrored surface high overhead.
*All is well,* he reassured her yet again. *Look, I am here.*
He concentrated for a moment. A tingle ran over his scales as his phosphorescent patches lit. The glowing lines swirled over his shoulders and down his flank in twining spirals, more intricate than any human tattoo.
*Oh!* Neridia gasped.
*Try to look impressed at how sparkly he is,* his sister told her, dryly. *Males do so love to show off.*
*I am not showing off. I merely thought to light the way.* Nonetheless, he was unable to help feeling a certain masculine satisfaction at Neridia’s reaction to his markings.
Schools of small fish swirled around him, drawn by the shimmering blue-green glow. Normally a knight on patrol would swim dark, so as not to alert enemies to his presence, but at the moment Neridia’s fear was a greater threat than any hypothetical lurking shark. He could feel her imminent panic retreat a little as her eyes fixed on his luminous form.
*Look.* Seeking to distract her further, he curved down so that he swam only a few body-lengths above the sea floor. He brightened his glow as he twisted around a jagged, broken pillar of stone.
*That looks carved.* Neridia’s mental tone was startled. *Is that writing?*
*Yes. We are swimming over what was once a coastal village.* John wove in and out of the ruins, the wake of his passing stirring the seaweed blanketing the shattered buildings. *All this was once part of Atlantis. When the island sank, our ancestors were able to keep the capital city intact, but the outer parts of the land had to be sacrificed.*
She stared at the irregular lumps and rocks of the sea bed with new eyes. *How long ago was this?*
*Many thousands of years, as humans reckon time. I do not know the exact count.*
Neridia was silent for a while, as his sister carried her over the ruins of millennia. *We have legends of Atlantis,* she said eventually. *Humans, I mean. A lost island, sunk by some ancient disaster.*
*Your legends hide a kernel of truth,* he sent back. *But it was no disaster. Our ancestors sank Atlantis deliberately.*
*Why?* she asked.
*Fear,* his sister said.
*War,* he corrected. *The Dragon Wars, remembered by humankind only as whispered legends of battling gods. The dragons of the land grew jealous of our beauty, our wisdom, our treasures. They allied with humans and sought to invade our home. Our ancestors retreated beneath the waves rather than see all that they loved laid waste by flame.*
*They chose to hide from the outside world instead of learning to live within it,* his sister added, her mental tone sad. *And so they divided our people. Not all inhabitants of Atlantis were shifters. Our human kin were forced to flee to other lands, exiled from their own home.*
John shrugged, the motion making his light ripple over the sea bed. *They made new homes. Some of the greatest human civilizations owe a debt to sea dragon blood. It was a necessary sacrifice.*
His sister snorted, silver bubbles trickling from her flared nostrils. *I am sure that is what our honored ancestors told our unfortunate kin. Strange how the sacrifice is always judged necessary by the one who is not making it.*
*Funny, that,* Neridia agreed, a hint of bitterness darkening the thought.
There was not much John could say in response. With a sweep of his tail, he moved ahead again, scouting out the way.
The ruins around them became larger and more complex as they swam onward. John led his sister along the sea floor, so that the ancient structures hid them from any unfriendly eyes. He kept alert to the background murmur of sea dragon song, listening for any hint of warning from the knights patrolling Atlantis’s borders.
None came. The knights’ songs were routine, speaking only of passing fish and idle gossip. Much of this latter was speculation about their own presence. From what he could overhear, the Knight-Commander had not informed even the Order of the First Water that the Walker-Above-Wave was returning, let alone who he was bringing with him.
; It felt wrong, all wrong. The Empress-in-Waiting should have been greeted with a sea-shaking chorus, every inhabitant of Atlantis calling out to bid her welcome. She should have been coming home in triumph and glory. Not like this, creeping through the mire like a crab scuttling into a hole.
John clamped his own jaws shut on the song that wanted to rise in his throat. The Knight-Commander knew the political currents of Atlantis better than he did. Much as it went against the whispers of his own heart, he was honor-bound to trust in his superior’s judgment.
Still, he could at least try to make the moment more appropriate. Deliberately, John picked a route that followed ancient, twisting roads overhung by coral-encrusted ruins. The sunken land was starting to slope upward, the waters brightening as they became shallower.
Though they were not yet within sight of the city itself, the sea teemed with life. Fish scattered at their approach, darting into empty windows to hide from the greatest predators in the sea. A giant octopus shifted color to match the carved wall it clung to as they passed by, faded hieroglyphs rippling across its skin.