Captive of the Deep by Michelle M. Pillow Page A

would hear of the updates made to navigational systems.” Aidan nodded enthusiastically, his face animated with excitement. “As I was saying, Atlantes. Like all great civilizations, the people grew arrogant with power. In those times the afterlife was a grim place, not like the heaven I was taught about. With such a cheerless prospect of death, all these people could enjoy was their mortal lives. So they stopped worshiping Poseidon and began to worship themselves as gods on earth. They became lazy, taking all they’d been given for granted. There were no more battles to fight, so they raided their neighbors, taking more than they needed. One day, King Lucius, after much feasting and drinking, proclaimed to his people that he refused to ever die, for he never wished to leave their bountiful paradise upon the earth—land that was more beautiful than the kingdom of the gods.”
    “I’m sure that went over well,” Lyra said.
    “About like what you would imagine when you anger a god. Poseidon cursed the city for its vanity and self-love. He gave them what they wanted. He granted them immortality, forever condemned to walk on their earthly paradise and nowhere else. This land, he plunged into the water, trapping them so they could never set foot on mortal soil again. Here they have remained on the bottom of the ocean, their land drifting aimlessly with the currents. Now we are part of it, never able to leave.”
    “Your speech sounds memorized,” Lyra said when he finished. She took a deep breath and then another. She stopped kneading her fingers against the table, but did not push up.
    “That is because I have given it several times,” he admitted sheepishly. “And I have had several years to practice it.”
    “I suppose you have to tell it to schoolchildren or something?”
    “No. Children are very rare. I have heard of them, but I haven’t seen a single once since I was brought down.” He began fussing with this artifacts, inching them in one direction and then back again to align them perfectly on the table.
    “You said I couldn’t go to the surface? Why not?” Lyra pushed the glasses, following his example.
    “Mortal air is one of the few things that can kill them.”
    “I’m not Merr,” she reasoned. “So long as one of them shifts into fish form and does that lip suction thingy, I should be able to survive the climb. If we take it slow, my body should be able to adjust to the pressure changes just like a deep sea diver.”
    “I should have said the mortal air will kill us,” Aidan clarified. “Once you’re brought down, you can’t go back up. Incidentally, you know they are mermen? You do not need further convincing that it is true?”
    “It’s kind of hard to miss when a fish saves your life by suctioning his mouth to yours like some sort of breathing apparatus. I was awake the entire dive down. I had plenty of time to get used to the idea of merpeople. It was a long trip. Apparently, that’s strange or something.”
    “Rare indeed. I have never heard of someone staying conscious for the entire trip. You must tell me about it in great detail. The others will want to hear your story.”
    “No,” Lyra said firmly, thinking of her family. “I will never speak of it.”
    “But, the people will…” At her hard look, he let his words trail off and nodded in understanding. “I would like you to consider telling me about how the world has changed in the last hundred years. I heard the Americans did get their liquor back. That was a strange business, Prohibition. Though, trust the descendants of Puritans to come up with such nonsense. I’ve been going through my old journals since you’re arrival, trying to remember life as it was. Is it true that they actually found a way to make motion pictures talk? Bridget tried to tell me that ordinary people can even make their own motion pictures with little handheld devices and in full life-like color. But, I’m no fool. I don’t believe that tale