More Than a Fantasy by Bernadette Gardner

surprise for her, as he had that afternoon with a table and chairs overlooking the beach, set with a feast of underwater delicacies.
    When she reached the hidden door that led outside, she heard voices and froze.
    The words were muffled, but the intent was clear. Someone had discovered their hideout—was it Poseidon?—and Tiran was trying to protect her.
    With her heart thundering, she ran back into the bedroom area and found the robe Tiran had made for her from the remains of her cover-up and a net of dark seaweed. She’d watched him in awe as he fashioned the shiny, limp seaweed leaves into a material softer than silk. The robe closed around her and formed to her body.
    Now what? she wondered. She didn’t dare go outside.
    She went back to the door and listened, but the argument had stopped. Good. Maybe Tiran had convinced whomever it was to go away and leave them alone. He’d be back any minute and she’d be ready to leave with him and head anywhere they had to go to be free.
    A minute stretched to five, and he didn’t return. After what seemed like an hour, she finally stuck her head out of the hidden door and looked down the dark beach. She saw no one. Footprints in the sand led from the shelter to the edge of the water and disappeared. Had Tiran gone swimming after his argument, not realizing Mara had woken up?
    She had to know. She stepped outside and the night wind whipped her long robe around her legs. For the first time in months, she felt cold.
    The voice of reason stopped her before she took another step and warned her to go back inside. She’d been safe in there, and Tiran would return as soon as he could. There was no one around, nothing to fear.
    But she wanted him. She needed to know everything was all right.
    Yet logic won out. He’ll be back, she thought, turning to duck inside the shelter.
    Strong arms locked around hers from behind. She screamed as her back collided with a hard body.
    “There you are.”
    Poseidon.
    Mara struggled against his iron grip. “Where’s Tiran? What did you do to him?”
    “I did nothing. He’s been called back to our city to face punishment for his crimes—and I’ve been sent to collect the evidence.”
    “What evidence?”
    “You.”
    She pushed back against him, trying to kick at his massive legs. He held her steady, his arms rigid to the point that she found it hard to breathe. Before Mara could form another question the air around her dissolved into a thousand sparkling pinpricks. Her body faded away and she knew nothing but the sensation of rapid movement. The brilliant shimmer turned dark around her, and a biting cold seeped through her scattered molecules—
    Then, nothing but blackness.

Chapter Four
     
     
    Prince Tiran took his place before the Atlantean Triumvirate, but he did not look at the three venerable elders who presided over Atlantean law. His gaze, instead, rested on his brother, Poseidon, who stood next to a solid block of sea glass imprisoning Mara, frozen in time like an alabaster statue.
    Poseidon made an attempt to look sympathetic, even as his hand caressed the smooth contours of the substance that held Mara in stasis. She could remain there forever, untouched, unharmed and completely unaware of her surroundings. Tiran feared that would be his punishment for being with her—he’d be forced to spend the rest of his long life looking at her inanimate body encased in the blue-green glass.
    He would not allow that to happen.
    “Tiran, son of Mykonos, do you understand the crime of which you have been accused?” Doremus, another of the elders, asked.
    The question drew Tiran’s attention away from Mara. “I understand, but I wish to speak on my own behalf.”
    “You may, though an excuse will not lessen your punishment if you are found guilty.”
    “I understand. I’d like to cite the Articles of Autonomy which make provisions for granting asylum to members of other cultures. I submit, regardless of the punishment I receive, that