Atlantium Trilogy I: Bride of Atlantis (18 page)

Baffled by Adonis’ behavior, Alexis’
gaze moved to Thor’s sword, but it remained at his side, untouched.
She noticed then that the walls had begun to quake, the furniture
shuddering. The air directly in front of Thor wavered,
rippled.

Alexis stared at it, thinking at first
that it was some trick of her mind or blurring vision, but it
became more substantial as she watched. Like the widening rings in
a puddle of water when one drops a stone into it, or a whirlpool,
the rippling waves of air abruptly rushed toward Adonis. Adonis
fell to his knees, covering his head. The wall behind him
disintegrated. The furniture on either side of him disappeared into
particles of dust.

Quite suddenly, it was no longer
Adonis, but Helen who sat cowering in the corner, untouched as if
caught up in the eye of a hurricane.

The funnel vanished as abruptly as it
had appeared. Thor stared at Helen in stunned disbelief, but after
a moment, his fury returned. He strode toward her, gripped her head
in his hand. She fell unconscious at his feet.

Thor looked down at her a moment then
turned and strode toward Alexis. Snapping the cords at her ankles,
he gathered her up in his arms. The pain, held at bay by the mind
hold, flooded through her in blinding waves when Thor touched her
forehead, releasing her.

Helen! Stunned disbelief and
abhorrence washed through Alexis. Helen had transformed into Adonis
only to rape her? Why?

Alexis squeezed her eyes shut, trying
to block out the memory, trying to block out the awful pain. Had
Helen hurt the baby? Had that been the plan?

A different fear rushed through her
and a terrible dread. She hadn’t realized until that moment, when
it occurred to her that she might lose it, how precious the child
was to her. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the
thought of losing it, realizing finally that the wetness she felt
between her thighs was blood.

Thor smoothed the hair from her face,
caressed her cheek.

“
The baby, Thor. I think
she’s killed our baby. Help me. Please.”

Thor turned, strode to the gaping hole
that had once been one wall of his home and leapt through
it.

Alexis gasped, expecting a jarring
impact. Instead she heard a rush of air, the flap of great wings as
he shifted. Within seconds they settled in the garden at Aurora’s
home. The heavy oak door that led onto the garden fell to dust at
Thor’s approach. He strode quickly down the corridor.

Aurora’s door flew open before they
reached it. Aurora stood in the doorway, her face creased with
anxiety.

“
She cannot heal herself,”
Thor said in an anguished voice. “Help her mother.”

Chapter Twelve

Alexis wasn’t certain whether she was
rendered unconscious by drugs, or mind control, or if she simply
passed out from physical distress, but for some time she knew
little of what was happening to her, rising only in brief snatches
to the surface of consciousness before falling into the pit of
darkness again. She heard snatches of conversation several times,
but wasn’t certain whether it was real or imagined.

“
No. Speak. Telepathy hurts
her. She’s in enough pain already,” Aurora said quietly.

“
Won’t that disturb her
more?”

Alexis didn’t recognize the voice and
wondered if it was a doctor.

She felt a hand stroking her cheek
lightly and recognized it as Thor. A sense of peace settled over
her and with it came darkness once more.

When Alexis woke again, she found that
she was staring up at the ceiling in Thor’s bedroom. Disoriented,
she wondered for several moments if she’d only had a hideous
nightmare.

She twisted her head on the pillows,
looking at the corner wall where Helen had been thrown in her
‘dream’. No gaping hole met her gaze, but after a moment, she
realized that the materials were new. It had been repaired
then.

It hadn’t been a nightmare … at least,
not in the sense that it was something that frightened but could
not hurt.

She felt her belly. It was useless, of
course. She was, or had been, only a matter of days into her
pregnancy. There had been no telltale sign of a child growing
inside her womb.

But her stomach was sore. She tried
not to think what that might mean.

Moira’s face appeared above her. She
dropped the tray she held in her hands when she saw that Alexis was
looking at her and raced from the room.

Alexis watched her departure in
stunned surprise.

In a few moments, Aurora appeared in
the doorway, hesitated, then moved across the room. Sitting on the
side of the bed, she took Alexis’ hand. “How do you feel,
child?”

“
Sore,” Alexis admitted.
“The baby?”

Aurora’s face crumpled and Alexis felt
her heart skip a beat. “We don’t know yet. The physician believes
there is a good chance the child still grows, but….”

Alexis nodded, unable to speak for the
lump in her throat. “What happened to Helen?” she asked
finally.

Aurora paled. “She is under house
arrest. She….” Aurora broke off, collected herself. “She has broken
the second law. The penalty is severe, particularly under the
circumstances.”

“
The second law?”

“
No Atlantean shall falsify
themselves in order to commit fraud.”

“
You mean shift to appear as
someone else?”

Aurora nodded. “But it was never
anticipated that anyone might do so to commit such a … horrendous
crime. The council has not been able to decide upon punishment. She
may … be given death.”

Alexis gaped at her. “But … but
nothing but murder deserves death, and not always even then.
Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances.”

Aurora looked at her sadly. “Child,
you know very well that there are no extenuating circumstances
here.”

“
But she didn’t murder
me.”

“
She may have murdered your
child. If the child survives, Helen will be allowed to keep her
life.”

“
It must be very hard for
you. She’s your niece, isn’t she?”

Aurora nodded. “My great niece. But it
is harder still that she threatened the life of my
grandchild.”

She hadn’t imagined it then. Thor had
called her mother, but Alexis had thought, perhaps, it was merely a
term of endearment or respect. It seemed … physically impossible
that Aurora could have born him.

Aurora’s smile was wry. “I should
return your band before your thoughts lead you into
trouble.”

Alexis blushed. She’d become so
accustomed to the freedom of unrestricted thoughts that she’d
forgotten Adonis … no Helen, had snatched it from her
head.

Aurora took it from a drawer and
returned, placing it on Alexis’ head. “We did not return it to you
because we needed to monitor you while you were so ill.” She
paused, seemed to collect her thoughts. “Thor is the result of our
attempts at artificial birth—the only successful attempt. I had
never born a child, still haven’t—he was conceived and incubated
outside the womb. But he is still my child, born from my ovum,
which we revitalized because I was already well beyond my
childbearing years, fertilized and injected with the ‘perfect’ DNA.
He was to be a superior being. At first, we thought we had erred
badly. He possessed gifts even beyond our wildest imagining, but he
had difficulty controlling his gifts, in particular his greatest
gift.”

Alexis struggled up on one elbow,
trying to sit up. Aurora frowned disapprovingly but helped her
adjust her pillows. “What was the gift?”

“
Sound.”

Alexis frowned, perplexed. “But,
everyone can make sound.”

Aurora smiled. “Did you know that your
scientists had learned, in recent years, that dolphins were capable
of emitting sound waves that are so powerfully intense they produce
heat? That they can use this ability to kill when threatened? Your
science is only beginning to realize the potential of sound, to
utilize it now in medicine.

It was this gift we gave Thor, the
power to harness sonic waves, project them. We had no idea of how
powerful a weapon we had made him until the first time he tried to
use it.

The results were … horrific. He could
not control the intensity or focus. He leveled all within his path,
reducing it to dust. For a time, he was afraid to use it, even when
we needed his protection. We, too, were afraid.

Over time, he has learned to control
it better, but it is still the one gift we all fear most, even
Thor.”

Stunned, Alexis could only stare at
her for several moments, realizing that the event Aurora spoke of
had to have happened long ago. “God of thunder.”

Aurora flushed, looked uncomfortable.
“The young are prone to irresponsibility. It hardly seems just to
judge someone on their childish antics, particularly when—if—they
mature to become a very responsible adult. Thor was a precocious
child, but he was never cruel and he has grown into a good, honest,
responsible man.”

“
It wasn’t a judgment, and
you’re right, I doubt many people could boast of making no bad
decisions when they were young and inexperienced. I was mostly
thinking out loud, because I had guessed … but it seems almost
inconceivable. He could not be that old, surely?”

Aurora chuckled. “Indeed he is not …
probably older than you think … but no, nor am I, I might add,” she
said dryly. “But the world, in any time, was his playground, and,
indeed, he was not the only one who played such … inexcusable
tricks.”

Alexis had trouble absorbing it, but
found after some moments that it just seemed too unreal to accept.
It made no difference, really. Thor was Thor, the man she’d come to
know, to love. “This power you spoke of—he used it to….”

Looking more than a little relieved
that Alexis had moved on, Aurora nodded. “And worse, he did so
while in the grips of a fearful rage. It is nothing short of a
miracle that he was able to exercise control. He has left us for a
time. Once he saw that you were going to be all right, he said that
he had to try again to find the rebels … and, of course, he does.
We have learned that they have managed to develop a band that
protects them even from Thor, to whom our bands are as nothing.
But, more than that, Thor was badly shaken, by his failure to
prevent your injury, by the events that led up to it, by the events
that followed. He needed time to be alone with his
thoughts."

Alexis stared at her. As intriguing as
the thought was that Thor was distressed by her injuries, which
might imply he still cared, another comment Aurora had made wiped
everything that came before, and after, from Alexis’ mind. “The
bands are as nothing? Are you telling me Thor … Are you saying Thor
could read my … a person’s mind even if they were wearing the
band?”

Aurora looked surprised, then a smile
began to form. “You did not know this?”

Alexis felt heat rise to her cheeks
until they seemed to pulsate with each heart beat. “No, I did not
know this, damn it! Nobody told me this!”

Aurora tried to keep a straight face,
but a chuckle escaped her. “Child! What thoughts have you shared
with Thor?”

She was obviously delighted by the
prospect. Alexis glared at her, not amused in the least. “It isn’t
funny!”

Aurora shook her head, but she
couldn’t refrain from chuckling. “You did not try to block his mind
probe once you began to wear the band?”

Alexis slid down in the bed, covering
her head with the sheets, trying frantically to remember all the
thoughts that had run through her mind from the time she’d moved
back in with Thor.

Not that it mattered. She could
remember enough to make her wish she could find a nice, deep, dark
hole to crawl into.

She didn’t know who she wanted to
choke worse, Aurora or her son.

* * * *

Thor was not absent long, nor did he
stray far from her, not that Alexis cared. She was too busy sulking
over her humiliation. She felt like a blind woman who’d been handed
a sheet of clear film and been told she could cover herself with it
… exposed, and deceived.

She supposed it was merely an
oversight that she had not been warned, but she couldn’t help but
wonder if Aurora had had an ulterior motive for not telling her the
band was useless around Thor.

She had to wonder if the walls of his
house even helped. She recalled that he’d told her once that the
walls would shield her from most, which she should have realized
was a warning of sorts. He hadn’t said everyone, just
most.

Damn it! It wasn’t fair! They knew she
didn’t understand the half of what was going on in Atlantis, that
she was not used to any of their abilities, or their traditions.
And yet she’d been judged by her thoughts, and her actions, as if
she was one of them and knew better.

The only bright spot in what had
otherwise become a miserable existence, was that, as the days
turned into weeks, she realized that her baby still resided safely
in her womb, healthy and growing.