Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

family. You‟ve proved it again this day. And you should be warned: if ever you try to trap us again, we will not be caught so easily. Both Atlantean and Nereid souls swear this to you.”
    Ven started to speak again, but Conlan cut him off with a gesture.
    “To the Temple, then,” Conlan said tiredly. “One crisis at a time.”

Chapter 27
    Poseidon‟s Temple, Atlantis
    Keely couldn‟t speak. She was, literally, stunned speechless by the sight of her surroundings.
    The outside of the Temple had been awe-inspiring enough, with its polished marble and gold and copper inlay. But this . . . this was beyond an archaeologist‟s wildest dreams of avarice.
    They‟d walked by room after room filled with historical treasures; one room was piled floor to ceiling with objects made of shining gold and encrusted with gems. Offerings to Poseidon from centuries past, Justice had told her. The “old stuff” was in arena-sized rooms below, he‟d said.
    The “old stuff.” Her throat seized up at the thought of it. Another room was stacked, wall-to-wall, with ancient-looking leather trunks filled with what she imagined must be amazing things.
    Room after room filled with statues and paintings that had to be thousands of years old. The corridor they were traveling was lined with the most magnificent artwork she‟d ever seen. A friend of hers who was a museum curator would be having cardiac arrest right about now.
    A library as big as the Ohio State football stadium. As they‟d passed the entryway and her eyes had widened at the sight of hundreds of robed men and women working at long tables, Justice had casually murmured something about restoration work on the rescued scrolls from Alexandria.
    Alexandria .
    Rescued scrolls.
    From Alexandria.
    She‟d almost fainted on the spot. Luckily, she was made of tougher stock, and she‟d only suffered temporary light-headedness.
    Because, you know, they were only scrolls . Rescued from Alexandria . Only quite possibly the greatest archaeological find of lost historical documents since . . . well, ever .
    Her stomach fluttered again, and she forced her mind away from the scrolls and the art and the “old stuff” to concentrate on the task before her. She also needed to focus on not tripping over her own feet, as Justice dragged her by the hand down the extremely long corridor, following Conlan and Ven at a pace designed for long Atlantean legs, evidently.
    “Hey! I do work out. I even run, but you‟re annoying me with this forced march. Can I catch my breath a little?”
    Justice slowed but didn‟t stop and didn‟t even look at her. His profile was grim, his features hard as the statues they kept passing. In fact, there was a certain similarity. The proud, nearly arrogant expression. The elegant nose and cheekbones.
    “So are these all statues of Atlanteans?”
    He stopped so abruptly that she ran into his back, face-first.
    “Hey! A little warning next time?”
    He whirled around and glared down at her. “You‟re on your way to risk your life, and you want us to discuss statues with you?”
    She caught her breath at the fiercely glowing blue-green flames in the centers of his black pupils. Even though clearly both of him—or them, or however that plural might be constructed—were present and accounted for, he didn‟t intimidate her anymore.
    “Scientist here. Curious, okay? Occupational hazard.”
    Before Justice could respond, Ven called out to them from about twenty feet farther down the hall. “Are you two coming or not? The sooner we get this over with . . .”
    He left the sentence unfinished, but Keely didn‟t need a translator. The sooner they could be sure that she was telling the truth and get on with whatever they needed to do to find the Star and heal Justice‟s mind so Atlantis could rise and bring peace and little fluffy bunnies to all mankind.
    Or something like that.
    She realized that fear and the stress of being wound so tight she might explode at any second was making her giddy. Hysteria : her word of the day.
    Justice clenched his jaw, tightened his hand around hers, and began to walk toward his brothers, pulling her along with him. “We‟re coming. Do not press us.”
    As they approached the doorway, he stopped again. This time the look he aimed at her was pure determination sheathed in ice. “You do not have to undertake this trial. If they need proof of your visions to believe you, then to the hells with them. They will suffer for their