Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

window, shimmered into existence, no larger than a single pane of glass.
    As they all watched, however, the window or portal expanded until it was the height and breadth of a man. It was transparent in a darkling manner and opened to a view that must be located in one of the nine hells. Reddish-orange light pulsed sullenly over a rocky, barren landscape that twisted as though formed from volcanic eruption or a game of boulder hurling played by bored gods. Nothing living existed within it—neither tree nor plant nor creature.
    They stared at it and each warrior drew his weapons, prepared for the worst. Alexios tightened his hands on the hilts of his daggers. Always prepared for the worst, even in a life lived through centuries. Unfortunately, the measure of worst only stretched and enlarged as the years passed.
    “It‟s like a window looking out onto insanity itself,” Christophe muttered, shaking his head in apparent disbelief.
    “Yet if it is insanity, at least two inhabit therein,” Alaric replied, pointing to the upper-left corner of the transparency.
    Alexios caught sight of two figures, tiny and moving slowly in the far distance as viewed through the distorted window. Light gleamed from an object held by the first of the two, who shuffled forward almost painfully.
    “It‟s a sword,” Alexios said. “And look. Look at the braid swinging behind him. It‟s Justice!
    It‟s got to be Justice!”
    Alaric whipped around and pointed to the portal guards. “You two. Take Brennan to the palace. Carry him on your back if you have to. Install him in the healing rooms, and do not, under any circumstances, let him out.” He snapped out a word and Brennan collapsed into an unconscious heap on the ground.
    The guards rushed forward to gather him up, but Alaric didn‟t wait to see that they complied with his orders. “If that is truly Justice, then we are looking directly into the Void. Again, if what this human female tells us is correct. There is far too much supposition in the situation to make me comfortable.”
    “What if he‟s compromised?” Christophe asked, his hands on the hilts of his daggers. “What if he‟s leading some sort of army for Anubisa? How can he have opened a window directly into Atlantis? The wards protect the Seven Isles from any dark magic.”
    The female interrupted their speculation, rising to her feet from where she‟d fallen on the grass. “He‟s in the Void,” Tiernan said. “I saw someone die giving that information. A good man, who didn‟t deserve what they did to him.” Tears rolled down her face, but she ignored them. “Your warrior is in the Void, and if that‟s him, you‟d better prepare for some serious bad.”
    Christophe sneered at her. “Yeah, like we believe you, Apostate.”
    Alaric cut him off with a single raised hand. “As he says, female, we have no reason to trust you. When this situation is resolved, we will learn more of each other. Until then, unless you have further information that can help us seal this breach, remain silent.”
    “My name is Tiernan, not female,” she said, defiance in her tone. But then, murmuring something that sounded like “Pulitzer, Pulitzer, Pulitzer,” she inclined her head to Alaric.
    “Only one more thing, and you probably know this, since you seem to be the big boss around here. The only way in and out of the Void is with death magic, and I‟m not talking animals,”
    she said, adding a crucial fact to what Alaric had told them earlier. “A person has to die for someone to escape—a life for a life. So unless either you or he plan to sacrifice someone, neither of you is getting through that entryway.”
    Christophe raised one of his daggers and took a step toward Tiernan, a dangerous smile spreading across his face. “Well, how convenient that we have a sacrifice all dressed up and with no place to go.”
    Alexios unsheathed his own sword and stepped in front of Tiernan. “I know you‟re kidding, but she doesn‟t. Shut up and step away from the human, unless you want to seriously piss me off. Because, Christophe, I‟m having what some might call a tragically bad day.”
    Laughing, Christophe whirled around to look through the entryway again. The figures had moved closer, and they could almost catch sight of the features on the man in the lead.
    “It can‟t be Justice,” Alexios said. “I can tell Justice from much farther away than this, simply by the way he walks. Nobody else strides along with that