Vampire in Atlantis

hadn’t used it in thousands of years. What did he need magic for, when ordinary vampire strength had been sufficient?
    This, though, was a more delicate task than breaking heads or rescuing humans. He searched for the thin line of silvery power, buried deep in his consciousness, and carefully lifted it with his mind. “ Aidez moi ,” he whispered. Help me.
    The language spoken didn’t matter, but he’d always liked French for magic. He sent the silver ribbon of power out into and around the room, and the debris vanished. Quinn shivered violently when the magic passed over and through her, but said nothing until the task was done.
    “Nice,” she said dryly. “You can always fall back on a housekeeping job if the vampire politician thing doesn’t work out.”
    “I’m no longer Primator. I quit.”
    “Why?”
    He sliced a hand through the air to cut off the questions. He should have known better. This was Quinn.
    “I’m an emotional empath, you know that. Even without the blood bond,” she said. “I can feel your pain at not being able to go after her. Why don’t you fill the twenty minutes or so until the sun sets by telling me about her?”
    “Why?” He sped through the room so fast that she surely couldn’t see him. He stopped mere inches from her. “Why do you care?”
    She tilted her head and looked up at him. “Because I’m your friend, you idiot. One of the few you have, I’m guessing. So tell me about her. How did you meet?”
    He glared at her, which had no effect, and considered tying her up and gagging her, which wouldn’t be worth it. She was right, anyway. His internal clock told him he had twenty-one minutes exactly until it was safe for him to step out of the damned cavern.
    “Fine. Let me tell you a fairy tale. This one is called ‘The Princess and the Blacksmith,’” he said caustically.
    She smiled and dropped down to sit cross-legged on the floor. “Oh, good. I hope it has a happy ending.”
    “I seriously doubt it. Okay, let’s waste both of our time. Once upon a time,” he began, “long, long ago . . .”

     
    Eleven thousand years ago, Atlantis
    Our hero, let’s call him Daniel, was a young apprentice blacksmith on a life-changing voyage. He’d traveled with his master to the home of the most wondrous metals in the known world—Atlantis. He found magic in the people, the land, and the metal itself. A marvelous metal called orichalcum sparkled in both day and night as if the sun’s rays and moonbeams each had poured their light into its very essence. Daniel, who was young and foolish, had believed he could be content for the rest of his life if only he could have the opportunity in his free time, when the day’s work was done, to create works of art and maybe even jewelry with such a metal. Similar to copper and silver, orichalcum was rarer and more pure than either and more valuable than both.
    Of course, that which is rare and valuable is coveted by men, and the value of orichalcum was one of the reasons why so many kings and armies had attacked the Seven Isles more and more frequently as of late, causing all of Atlantis to be in a state of armed defense. But orichalcum wasn’t the only reason for the attacks, or even the most crucial. Because when men came to attack and conquer and plunder, they mainly came for another, far more primal and brutal reason. They came to abduct the most sought after prizes of all: Atlantean women for their wives.
    “Women are still thought of as chattel in some places in the world,” Quinn interjected bitterly. “Eleven thousand years later, and still the same bullshit.”
    Daniel aimed a long look at her. “Do you want me to tell this or not?”
    She nodded, and he continued.
    When Daniel first met Serai, he understood all of it. She was so beautiful that the gods themselves were rumored to want her. He met her when she came to pick up a piece of jewelry in the shop next to the smithy where he was newly apprenticed. They struck up a friendship, all the more intense for being forbidden. Serai was almost a princess; as the daughter of a powerful, very rich Atlantean lord, who stood high in the ranks of Atlantis’s elders, she was destined for a very good match, perhaps even a royal one. Her father would never allow her to become involved with a lowly metalworker apprentice.
    Daniel’s new mentor, the master jeweler and metalworker who owned both the shop and the smithy, was an eccentric man. He only worked in the shop at