“To a scholar,” he said. “One of the few who works seriously in the… adjacent fields.” Percy made a strangled noise. “You know… thecoocoocachu magic-is-realscholarly circles.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not going to believe this,” Percy said.
“Not going to believe what?” I demanded, because my brain was awake now and absolutely vibrating.
Arthur’s mouth twitched.
My phone chimed. Incoming FaceTime.
Percy sucked in a breath. “He wants to talk to us. Now.”
“Wonderful,” I muttered, already answering.
The screen filled with a man who looked like he had not slept properly since the Clinton administration. He had wild gray hair and glasses perched precariously low on his nose. Thebackground appeared to be a study and possibly also a bunker.
He leaned toward the camera like we might escape.
“Hello,” he said brightly. “You have something that should not exist.”
I felt a grin split my face despite myself. “Hi. I’m Artemis. This is Arthur. And yes. That sounds about right.”
“You sent images of a compass,” he continued. “Except it’s not a compass. Not in the modern sense. It doesn’t point north or south.”
“Because those weren’t the important poles at the time it was created,” I said, the understanding clicking into place even as I spoke the words.
His eyes lit up. “Exactly.”
Arthur leaned forward. “Then what does it point to?”
The man smiled like someone who had waited his entire life for that question. “The heart of Atlantis.”
My brain short-circuited, then rebooted at double speed.
“That’s incredible,” I said.
“Yes,” the man said. “The Atlanteans didn’t think in terms of continents. They thought in terms of centers. The heart was what they considered the center of the world. Everything else radiated outward from it. That map you have isn’t wrong. It’s just… not oriented to our perceived reality.”
Arthur’s expression went razor-sharp. “And what does that have to do with missing ancestry? With dragon magic depleting?”
The man’s smile faded. “Because the heart wasn’t just a place. It was a source of something ancient and powerful. If something was bound there, or taken from there, or cut off… I’m not exactly sure, but following the compass is your best bet at finding out.”
Percy exhaled slowly.
My pulse roared in my ears. “Oh,” I whispered. “Oh, this is so cool!”
Startled, Arthur glanced at me.
“What?” I said, already gesturing with my free hand, thoughts flying. “Sure, it’s terrifying and possibly world-ending. But it’s so freaking incredible.”
The scholar beamed at me. “Yes. Exactly. You see it.”
“I see it,” I said faintly.
We talked and planned, tossed ideas back and forth. Percy filled in gaps. The scholar dropped names, theories, and references like candy. Arthur asked careful, precise questions that warmed my insides in that stupid, inconvenient way.
Somewhere between speculation and strategy, I realized something terrifying and exhilarating.
