Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

mocking him. An option had occurred to him, of course. But he wasn‟t yet willing to unleash the Nereid trying to possess his mind, just so they could discuss strategy.
    It might come to that, though. Hells, it probably would come to that. But for now, with he and Keely at least fed, he‟d try one more time for a passageway he‟d missed before.
    Desperation didn‟t feel quite as sharp-edged with a full belly, even though he‟d scared her into silence. Now she avoided him entirely, and he couldn‟t blame her for it. But truth had seemed the best option at the time.
    Even though now he regretted it, fiercely.
    He glanced over at where she sat on the floor, the dishes pushed aside and a collection of jade figurines from one of the compartments spread out with mathematical precision on the tablecloth. To one side of the figurines, the collection of gems he‟d tossed aside earlier were lined up like toy soldiers awaiting their general‟s command.
    She‟d tied that wealth of hair back away from her face, and a little furrow had appeared between her silken brows as she concentrated on the objects. She hadn‟t spoken in quite some time. Perversely, even though something about her fierce concentration appealed to him, he found himself resenting the ease with which she could dismiss him from her mind.
    It would have been impossible for him. Every step he took, every thought he had, was wrapped in the knowledge that she was nearby. The flash of resentment had a now-familiar effect: the Nereid strained against the shields in his mind, growing stronger with every passing hour.
    The cavern lay directly underneath the temple of his Nereid ancestors, and that half of his soul continued to cry out that it would not be denied. Justice shoved his hand through his hair, wondering how to defeat one side of his very nature without destroying his entire psyche.
    Had he escaped the Void, only to find that its madness had followed him? Dwelt within him?
    Pharnatus‟s sacrifice must not be in vain.
    Frustration spiked into helpless, irrational fury. Keely could ignore him so easily, and he couldn‟t even ignore a voice inside his own head. The realization flared inside him—a flash fire of rage—no less powerful for being unreasonable.
    Pain caught his head in a vise grip. Steel spikes drove through his temples, heralding the Nereid as it broke through his shields. She casts you aside like you are nothing, Atlantean . If we had taken her, she would be tied to us forever.
    Justice shook his head, denying it, but the movement only worsened the headache squeezing his skull, and he gasped. “No. We will not . . . I will not force her. I promised her.”
    Then I will not share with you the Nereid art of using matter transference, and we will remain here, trapped, until we die .
    Matter transference? But even as he turned the phrase over in his mind, he knew. It was the method by which he‟d brought the food; stolen, no doubt, from very surprised and hungry people.
    Far more important, it was how he‟d brought Keely with him to his long-forgotten hideout.
    Yes. The way in, and the way out. Simplicity itself, when you know the key, the Nereid whispered seductively.
    Closing his eyes, he waged a brief but furious war with his other half, to no avail. He was seriously considering pounding his skull against one of the gem-covered walls to bash the information loose, when Keely called out to him.
    “Justice? I may have an idea of how we can get out of here.”
     
    Keely sat cross-legged on the floor, contemplating the figurines. Priceless objects, all of them, and incredibly important to any serious study of the Atlantean past. Even through her gloves, the sheer age of the carvings pressed on her mind and sizzled along her nerve endings. What she was considering was unbelievably self-destructive. Possibly suicidal.
    But she was trapped between the proverbial rocks—of the cave-in—and a very hard place.
    Justice didn‟t know how to get them out. He didn‟t even understand how he‟d brought them there. Fine. She‟d been inside his past, through the sword vision, and she knew enough of him to know his integrity. His honor. Even the pain he kept so tightly controlled.
    He wouldn‟t lie to her. He‟d die before he let the Nereid hurt her. She would accept those facts as proven hypotheses.
    So it was up to her.
    He crossed the room, resembling nothing so much as a sleek panther, muscles flowing in a graceful, deadly stride. He took