The Path of Ravens (Asgard vs. Aliens Book 1) by Lentz P.K

Author:Lentz, P.K. [Lentz, P.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-10-16T18:30:00+00:00

29. Deluge

While Thamoth lived, he was still a prince. In one of the many dark, endless days before the last drop of his fresh water was depleted, his fevered mind decided what his course must be. If he survived, he would return to Atlantis—her city, their city—and reclaim the throne which should have been his and the palace in which Ayessa should have dwelt in comfort as mother to princes. He would do this in her name.

But he could not turn back, for the islands they had left were by now far out of range. He could only press on west and hope that land met him. And so he sailed, but did not hope hard, for each day that passed made life and death look more or less equal in his salt-filled, half-open eyes.

Eventually, after days without water, his strength failed, and he slipped into darkness.

Some time later, he returned to consciousness, drawn by a familiar sound that made him think for a moment that his exile had been but a nightmare.

It was a gull's cry. Thamoth cracked his eyes and saw the bird pass over, wings outstretched against a blue, cloud-filled sky. Dragging his carcass to the rails, he spied distant trees and nearer still, a sandy beach, and he found it in his limbs to guide the ship ashore before blacking out face down in the sand.

When next he awoke, he ventured inland, sometimes crawling, in search of water. He found it, drinking with cupped hands from a babbling stream. In the days which followed he took little notice of this new land in which he found himself, the one which presumably was the one he had dreamed of discovering. Now he had it in his mind only to return home and seize back his stolen throne, else die trying and thus rejoin his bride. It scant mattered which.

He was anxious to set sail but knew that he first needed his health, so he ate and drank and rested for days, checked every inch of Wellspring to ensure she was seaworthy, refilled the pots in her hold with fresh water, and finally abandoned the undiscovered shore with scarcely a backward glance. Purpose written firmly in his heart, he cleaved the same sea he had so ruinously crossed once already, the one which had swallowed Ayessa. Each day, he renewed his vow to her, to recapture the city of her birth in her honor, and thereafter to follow her soul through the very abyss of death.

On reaching the uninhabited islands, he stopped only for a night and then sailed on, the taste of brine in his mouth taking on the metallic tang of blood, that of the usurper Ozymondros who had driven him to this fate. In truth, it was he who had murdered Ayessa, just as he had murdered Thamoth's father and mother and brother.

There was no evidence, but he needed none. It was simply so.

He reached the coast north of Atlantis, burned Wellspring as though it

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