Captive of the Deep by Michelle M. Pillow

dungeons. Was that her fate? They had referred to it being once Merr, but what did that mean, really? She needed to learn more.
    “The fact that he is considered your guardian means he is in charge of you until you decide to marry. Lord Rigel will take care of you and it is up to him to approve those seeking your hand. Only then will they be allowed to court you. But, don’t worry, you get used to some of the antiquated ways of thinking. He pulled you out of the water, so he is in charge of you. Kind of like that old belief, if you save someone’s life, that life becomes your responsibility. And the person saved is in debt to the one who saved them.”
    Lyra arched a brow and said nothing.
    He seemed to expect more of a reaction than she gave him so he added, “You can choose your own husband.” Still she gave him nothing, so he joked, “They are pretty desperate for womenfolk. You can probably get them to do whatever you want.”
    “I don’t suppose I could get one of them to carry me back up to the surface and leave me on a tropical island, could I?” Lyra wasn’t sure who this man was. She tried to place him. It was clear he thought they knew each other. Unfortunately for him, she hadn’t been paying too much attention during those first days of introductions.
    The man’s features saddened. “No, I’m sorry, didn’t they tell you? You can never go back. We’re too far below the ocean’s surface and, well, even if you were to be taken back up to the surface, you can never breathe surface air again.”
    “So it’s true. I’m trapped here.” She slumped against the table, resting her hands against the hard wood to support her weight. Her head dropped down as she stared at the rusted frame of a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.
      “Perhaps if I explain my story it will help you,” he said. “As you well know, my name is Aidan Douglass. I was born in eighteen-ninety-three in a southern providence of Scotland.”
    “Of course you were,” she whispered, more to the table than to him. Her fingers worked against the wood, barely feeling the hard texture as the tips turned white.
    “I was a scholar, a historian if you will, on my way to Africa to explore the great pyramids and to try my hand at digging up some buried treasure. Treasure hunting was all the rage. Our boat, Bella Donna , was attacked from mysterious forces from below, much the same way yours was. Since there were no women onboard when it sank, I was saved and brought here.”
    Lyra merely nodded her head and waited for him to go on.
    “When I told Lady Bridget all of this, she suspected it might be time travel, but it is not. Time simply does not move here as it did for us on the surface world. Once your body acclimates to this place, you never get sick and you never age. I am over a hundred years old.” He leaned over trying to catch her eyes. “If I do say so myself, the years have been very kind to me.”
    Lyra tried to chuckle politely, she really did, but the only noise she managed was a short sigh of air.
    “You do not look too overwhelmed by this,” Aidan ventured carefully. “In fact, you look mad.”
    “Please, go on,” she said through tight lips. She didn’t really want to listen, but she felt she needed to hear it, finally hear it. This was her new reality and she wanted the facts.
    “From what I gather, this society was the center of the ancient world. It ruled over much of the land—Greece, Italy, Egypt which was a vast empire at the time. Back then they were known as the Atlantes, which we knew as the lost city that fell beneath the waves in one day. The Atlantes’ land prospered with little effort. They were great warriors who were never defeated in battle. According to Merr legend, they were blessed by the god, Poseidon. If you’re not familiar, he was the Greek god of the sea.”
    “I was raised in a family of sailors. I’m quite familiar with Poseidon,” said Lyra.
    “Marvelous! We must talk sailing later. I