Fugitive (sequel to Becoming Atlantian)

Fugitive - Chapter 20

The drums shook the very floor beneath her feet as they neared their destination. It was with surprise that they continued past the golden door which led to the hall where so many significant changes had occurred. Her initiation as an Atlantian. The demise of the last Matriarch. Saving Tiberius.

Instead, they continued through the winding halls, and emerged outside into the large courtyard. The sun was nearing the horizon, and yet, the space before them was packed from wall to wall with Atlantians. Aubrey wasn't sure she had ever been to a place so crowded. Even the skies were full, dragons and their riders circling overhead and casting shadows in the ebbing light of day.

The drumbeat changed ever so slightly, the tempo reducing to transform its enthralling beat into a slow anticipatory cadence. The air was filled with the scent of wood fire, the sweetness of honey, and the richness of fresh spices. She breathed in deep, enjoying the tantalising combination.

The crowds before Aubrey parted to form an aisle between them. A moment later, there was the ring of steel on the air and the bright shimmer of brightly polished swords in the fading afternoon light. Atlantians on either side of the pathway lifted their swords to create a canopy of gleaming Atlantian steel.

And then there he was. Tiberius. The bruises on his face were gone, the wounds nothing more than pink scars on his battle worn skin. He was wearing the finest set of leather armour Aubrey had ever seen. His hair had been cut closely to his scalp but it only made his appearance fiercer. He limped forwards. His face was stern, giving nothing away.

His lips finally lifted into a smile as he stopped before her. Slowly, he lowered himself into a bow. Only the slight tensing in his jaw gave hint of his discomfort. "Matriarch."

Aubrey swiftly rested a hand upon his shoulder, urging him to stand once more. "Aubrey," she automatically corrected. She allowed her hand to drift down to the arm he held out to her.

He nodded his head, his lips pulling into a grin. "Matriarch Aubrey."

Aubrey's lips wavered in response. It didn't matter how many times she was addressed as such, Aubrey wasn't sure she would ever get used to the title. His eyes searched hers for a moment and when she nodded, he turned on his heel and headed towards the solid stone altar visible through the aisle of Atlantians.

The swords glinted over head as she passed, the thudding of the drums matching her heart beat exactly until she could no longer tell whether it was her own pulse or the rhythmic drumming in her ears. Yet, as she stumbled past the battle scarred warriors, she saw only acceptance. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Aubrey tilted up her chin and focused on the altar before her.

When she reached the front, she took step forwards into the open space. Her heart stuttered within her chest. The fabric of her ceremonial robe fluttered as if caught on the wind despite the air being still. It was as if Atlantis was waiting. As if the very world and magic around her were holding their breath in anticipation. She wanted to hold her breath too.

Beneath her feet, rich earth had been laid out around the altar. It cushioned the bottoms of her slippers. Suddenly, the fabric felt too tight, too constricting. Sliding her feet free, she kicked them to the side before wriggling her toes in the earth.

The reaction was instantaneous. The ever present magic of Atlantis, the magic that felt so very alive, rose up to meet her. Aubrey sucked in a sharp breath and threw back her head. Her fingers flexed around TIberius's arm as the sensations washed through her. Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt it greet her. Welcome her. It wasn't said with words. It was just a feeling.

Tiberius gently settled his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. She reluctantly peeled open her eyes and met his. She was relieved to see his features relaxed for the first time in days. His skin was bathed in a soft golden light as if he were standing in the glow of a lamp. Glancing down, Aubrey fought not to be surprised. She was glowing again. She knew it with certainty without looking down at her exposed skin.