Warriors of Poseidon 05 - Atlantis Redeemed

right now,” Alaric said dismissively.
    “That is a lie,” Tiernan shot back. “A big lie. Huge. Want to try again?”
    Conlan tilted his head, but his considering gaze was aimed at Brennan, not Tiernan. “How much do you trust her? She is a reporter, after all.”
    “With my life,” he said without hesitation. “That is, after all, what she already holds in her hands, through means of the curse.”
    “So you have no choice,” Alaric said.
    “I want no other choice.”
    Tiernan waved her hands around. “I’m right here, boys. Right here, in the room. Talk to the nice reporter, and not around her.”
    Conlan and Alaric exchanged another glance, but then Alaric, surprisingly enough, answered, “It’s the Ragnarok. It’s coming all over again.”
    “The Gotterdammerung?” Brennan blurted out. “You truly believe this?”
    “The Doom of the Gods?” Tiernan said, her brows drawn together. “He’s not lying,” she told Brennan. “But why is Poseidon’s priest worried about Norse mythology?” She shot a sly look at Alaric. “Confused, much?”
    Conlan answered her. “Simply because primitive peoples tried to order their world and their gods by regional pantheons does not mean the world or the heavens ever actually worked that way. Did you never wonder why an Egyptian death goddess leads the vampires?”
    “Anubisa?” Tiernan said the name with the loathing befitting the abomination who had killed Atlantis Redeemed – Warriors of Poseidon 05
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    and consumed thousands over many lifetimes. “Egyptian?”
    “She claims to be daughter-wife to Anubis,” Brennan said, revulsion snaking up his spine at the thought. “More important, though, when and where did this new prophecy originate?”
    “We have learned much that was previously undiscovered since Keely started working with her.
    Her object-reader Gift has helped us find objects hidden in plain sight, even within the walls of the palace,” Alaric said. “This scroll was found hidden in the base of a statue of Poseidon in the library. Heavy magic protected it, and Keely was knocked unconscious merely from touching the outside of the statue.”
    “I am sure Lord Justice was very happy about that,” Brennan said, wondering how many warriors had ended up in the healing chambers because of Justice’s rabidly protective nature.
    Then again . . . He stole a look at Tiernan’s profile. He’d have done the same himself.
    “Not only must we return the remaining gems to the Trident for Atlantis to rise, but we now must facilitate the eventual intermarriage of all races with Atlanteans,” Conlan said. “The prophecy is short and quite to the point: The Doom of the Gods is on the horizon. Only a child born of all races, ruling Atlantis into the future, will prevent it.”
    “Sounds like Keely is helping you guys out quite a bit,” Tiernan pointed out. “I hope you’re paying her a lot.”
    “I would give her the crown jewels themselves, were they mine to give, for the nature of her revelations about Nereus and Zelia,” Alaric muttered.
    Tiernan raised an eyebrow, and Brennan gave her the short version. “Priests were evidently able to marry and have families in ancient times, so apparently the vow of celibacy is a new development. Alaric finds this to be—”
    “Useful knowledge?” she interrupted. “Fabulous? Holy crap, happy day, crazy good? The future’s looking bright for you, my friend.”
    Alaric narrowed his eyes at Tiernan’s remarks. “The future will be bright or dark, with or without me.”
    “You will not abandon the priesthood for Quinn,” Conlan said firmly. “Not now when your people need you. When we need you.”
    Alaric turned anguished eyes to his prince. “Really? You, of all men, would try to use that argument against me? After you were fully willing to abdicate the throne itself for Riley?”
    Tiernan cleared her throat. “Maybe we can argue the fate of all Atlantis and the world later?
    Right now we need to get back to that hotel or we may as well give it up as a lost cause. We can come up with a cover story that may just barely keep us out of trouble, but not if we delay any longer.”
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    Conlan frowned. “Brennan, this decision I leave to you. Can you handle this mission with the curse and your unbound emotions hanging over you like the Sword of Damocles itself?”
    “I can handle anything,” Brennan said quietly. “So