The gigantic driftwood doors groaned as Atlas heaved them open and apart. Eden grabbed for her hood as an unexpected draft escaped through the gap, smelling damp. It looked dark.

But curiosity was eating her alive. This was what she was made for – trained for; to seek out secrets and absorb them into herself, where nobody undesirable would be able to obtain them.

It was quiet. Atlas turned to her. “Don’t be afraid,” he said.

Eden said nothing. Just stepped forward and slipped beyond the doors without hesitation. Atlas followed closely behind.

Once inside, it was actually easier to see. Eden knew from her training that it was always better to be standing in the darkness and looking at the light, than it was to be bathed in light while trying to decipher what was in the shadows. The knowledge kept her hidden more often than not.

They were clearly at the dark end of an enormous tunnel. Blue, hypnotic light danced across the ceiling and walls, growing in brightness and intensity as the tunnel curved down and away from them.

The reflection of water.

“We’ll have to hurry,” the king said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“What, he doesn’t like visitors?” Eden joked, urging herself forward.

“Most visitors, actually.”

The tunnel bent down as they walked, and Eden was unexpectedly delighted to see how many stairs greeted her. There was a polished stone railing that ran down the middle. The temptation was too strong.

She let Atlas get a few stairs head start before she hopped up onto it, and began to slide slowly down.

Except he didn’t get a head start. Not really. Each of his steps was practically a stagger. A struggle. She didn’t want to think about what the trip back up would look like. This didn’t seem right. Again, she was curious.

As she slid past him on the railing, she unceremoniously asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

He laughed a breathy laugh. “You’ll have to be a little more specific, sympathetic stranger… and I’ve got to say you’re the first woman who has ever done that on the way to meet Brontide.”

Eden hooked a foot onto an incoming vertical pole that was supporting the hand rail, and jerked to a stop. “Why do you look like you’re sleep walking?”

“It’s hard work mediating a kingdom, attending parties, and finding a bride all while my magic eats me alive.”

This was Eden’s second biggest shock of the night – a piece of information too huge and too vital to swallow so abruptly. His magic was eating him? What did that even mean? If he shared it with his intended… would it eat them too?

Rosie.

“Is that… normal?” Eden asked. She couldn’t quite keep concern out of the question.

“There is no way to know.”

“Because there is nobody else to compare it to,” Eden clarified.

“Right. At least for the moment.”

“Well how long has this been happening?” she pressed.

He pushed his palm against the rail and bowed his head. To think or to rest. Or maybe both. “It’s hard to tell. It was so gradual. I would say… two years ago was when I started to notice some weakness. And now…” He pushed himself up, but managed a gentle smile.

Eden stared at him, her palms folded in her lap. She opened them to deliver her verdict. “You’re dying,” she said matter-of-factly.

“It seems so.” He looked away and continued his descent. “I try not to use my magic excessively.”

She unhooked her foot and continued down herself. “Does that help?”

“A little.”

Reaching the bottom, she hopped off her ride. “You should see a healer.”

Too bad the best healer in the city was trained and stashed away in the Lakehouse, under Thetan’s lock and key and price. But even so… Crane didn’t know any more about magic than she did. What good could she do?

“I can’t see a healer,” Atlas said with odd finality. “And besides, I am one. Once upon a time I could heal any wound no matter how great. Now I’m not much use to myself, much less anyone else. If I tried it, I’d likely pass out.”

Eden quieted, but turned this news inward and inside out for analysis. The rumors were true about Atlas – about what people said. He hardly ever used his magic for anything substantial. This had to be why. It wasn’t that he was selfish. It was that he was dying.

Noted.

The king finally reached the bottom. Perhaps taking her silence for unease, he said, “Enough about that. It’s a morose subject. I apologize for burdening you with it.”

“It’s not a burden,” she said simply. Information was never a burden. Concern was.

Feeling his eyes on her, she decided to move forward and analyze the room they had ended up in.

It was a gigantic dome, with compressed, blue stone for the ceiling. Just as she had seen in the palace above. Except this was far glossier, and while the ceiling before had looked like it was made up of raindrops that were heavy and about to detach to create a bumpy effect, here the ceiling was arcing smoothly.

By all her knowledge, it should have been pitch black. There were no lanterns or lights lining the room. Nothing. But there was a colossal, circular window embedded in the floor not twenty feet away, where playful blue light seemed to be escaping. Almost as if… the water itself was glowing.

Eden glanced at Atlas. He crossed his arms casually and nodded to the translucent floor. “Go ahead. It’s safe.”

Needing no more prodding, she crossed the rest of the stone floor until she reached the glass one, but hesitated stepping on.

There was a gigantic, splitting crack running through it.

“Did Brontide do this?” Eden asked.

“No. I did,” Atlas replied, his voiced echoing eerily around the room. “Pay it no mind.”

That was a little hard to do, even as she stepped onto it. The glass – or was it crystal – had to be ten inches thick. Perhaps more. And Atlas had damaged it so thoroughly? Why? How?

Eden moved to the center and stared down between her feet. It was a little unnerving. The water closest to the rim of the glass seemed to be alive with light and energy and particles, but the further down she strained her eyes to see, there was only a deep blue, then black, then nothing. Like she was staring into a never ending well, where she could toss in a coin but no wish would make it out alive.

A minute passed. Eden adjusted her stance. “How long will it ta—”

Her question was destroyed by a tidal wave of noise. By a moan so deep that her bones and the room seemed to shake under the strain of trying to handle it. Eden threw her hands over her ears to try and cope, but never took her eyes off the plunging depths below her. She couldn’t miss this.

And finally Brontide’s call seemed to fade. Eden inched her fingers hesitantly away from her thrumming eardrums, all the while her heart beat wildly within her chest.

“Not long,” Atlas mused.

Eden remained still, and though she would never admit it to anyone, she was nervous. To see Brontide this close up… what would Rosie say? How many people would ever get an experience like this…

Wait.

Slowly, she frowned. No. She wasn’t special. She just remembered what she had previously forgotten: The women in the city who said Atlas gave them a ‘tour’. Did he simply bring them here? Perhaps in an effort to try and woo them? Seduce them? Lead them to his bed while they were high on excitement, only to discard them the next day?

With this revelation suddenly swimming at the forefront of her thoughts, she stomped her eagerness down. Way down. She would have to wait and see what he suggested next to truly know if she was just part of some preposterous pattern.

But – for now – something caught her eye in the crushing deep below. A golden light that was small at first, swaying in the dark like a lantern. She couldn’t discern its flickering pattern; it blinked on and off seemingly at random.

But each time it blinked on… it was a little bit closer.

“I see something,” Eden said to Atlas, glancing at him only briefly. The king nodded at this, but his mouth was pulled into a hard line, his eyes intense.

She looked back down into the darkness. The light was off.

And then – before she could comprehend – it turned on right below her feet. Golden treasure being uncovered. The sun escaping the darkness of an eclipse. An enormous eye flicking open. Brontide was staring right at her.

The golden gaze sent a shock through her system, and she found herself unable to move. Colors bombarded her from all sides of his eye, running rampant through the tiny veins to converge into a burnished gold pupil, as if all his power simply went there to cool its existence. Unconquerable. Indomitable. Limitless.

She was standing on power in its purest form.

But Brontide obviously didn’t think the same of her. Another reverberating moan blared up from a mouth she couldn’t see from this tiny window, and the eye pulled away. A snout lined with jagged protrusions swung by the window so quickly that she actually jumped; momentarily afraid that he’d knock her tiny, fragile window into splinters.

But the beast-god wasn’t clumsy. Or interested in her. Too soon the moment was gone, and Eden watched in fascination as the snout left her view and was replaced by an eye that was horribly scarred and pale and certainly useless. No wonder she hadn’t been able to make sense of his approach. He swam much like a shark – head swaying, nose leading, good eye blocked and unblocked by the angle.

Eden watched with unbreakable focus as Brontide departed back into the depths. He was much more serpentine than she expected, though all she had ever really seen of him was a reflective fin or a scaly side. Still, that was more than most others had seen. Apparently.

Finding herself staring at nothing but darkness again, Eden collected her wits and looked up. Atlas had half turned away, and seemed ready to leave.

“That was…” Eden didn’t know how to describe this experience. It was beyond her usual scope. “It was splendid.”

“I’m glad you thought so,” he replied. Eden cocked her head. His words were gentle… bordering on melancholy. “Are you hungry? I could use something to eat myself.”

She was hungry. She’d been hungry for hours now. No thanks to him. “So you’re finally going to show up to your own party? I’m thrilled.”

He began the momentous task of climbing the stairs. “Actually, I think I’ll head to the kitchen. It’s quiet there. Join me.”

Eden narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Was this part of his pattern? “I’ll pass.”

He paused on a step. “I’m afraid I insist.”

“Well I bravely desist,” she said, starting up the stairs behind him.

“I know you must be hungry,” Atlas hedged. He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled a little, a sheen of sweat already present on his forehead. “Do this last thing for me.”

“Forget the kitchen. You won’t even make it to the landing.”

“I’ll make it,” he said while looking up. It sounded unsure. “I always do.”

They continued up at a pace that was maddeningly slow even for Eden’s well trained patience. Near the top he keeled over, bracing a hand on a step. His breathing had turned horribly scratchy, and when he inhaled she could practically hear a wind-whistle.

The Loon didn’t know what to do. He was part of her mission, but she had already taken one too many liberties tonight. Thetan would likely punish her for just being seen… and now she was supposed to help carry him?

But… didn’t the end justify the means? Thetan believed that for certain.

Resisting the urge to claw at her eyes, she went to his side and offered a hand. “I feel like I’m being murdered waiting for you.”

He looked at her for a split second with undeniable relief in his storming eyes, and Eden dismally expected him to pounce on her offer. But he didn’t. In fact, what she witness next was none other than a totally bizarre change of heart.

The king looked quickly away and said, “Don’t help me. Please. Don’t give a damn.”

She pulled her hand away; a little relieved and little confused. “Damn retracted, your highness.”

“Thank you,” he said, bowing his head, his red hair spilling over his shoulders.

“Any time.”

Taking a few more seconds, he heaved himself up and climbed the rest of the way with no further issue.

Breathing deeply, he propped his hands on his hips. No doubt clutching at his stitches. “Piece of cake.”

“It was a piece of something…” Eden agreed dryly.

“Speaking of cake, do you like sweets?”

“I…” she paused. Thetan restricted sweets in the Lakehouse. Their diets were controlled. Especially Rosie’s. On top of that, sweets were usually very expensive. Rare. A treat. “I… don’t get them often,” she admitted.

Atlas smiled, seemingly pleased. “Come on. Just a quick trip to the kitchen. The party isn’t going to disappear.” He turned away, dismissing any response.

“No, because I’m following it around…” Eden grumbled, but trudged after him.