This wasn’t just a crazy, awesome adventure. We were standing at the edge of something enormous.
After we finally pieced together a rough plan, Arthur told them we needed to get some more sleep so we’d be rested for the journey ahead. His tone left no room for argument.
I knew he wasn’t planning on sleeping. That part was for me. He always did that. Framed things as practicalwhen they were really protective. Quietly placing himself between me and whatever came next.
Arthur waited until the call ended before he spoke. “We need to get more sleep. We’ll think better once we’re rested.”
I nodded and let him guide me back under the covers, my body heavy now that the adrenaline had finally burned off.
The last thing I registered before sleep claimed me was the faint sound of movement in the cottage. The noise sounded purposeful, as if Arthur was making sure the world was still in order.
When I woke again, it was not to panic or buzzing phones or the sharp edge of urgency.
It was to the smell of food.
Butter. Coffee. Something savory layered with herbs. My stomach responded immediately, loud and unashamed.
I cracked one eye open.
Pale sunlight spilled through the cottage window, making everything look kinder than it probably deserved to be. The bed was warm. The air felt settled.
Then I saw the table through the open bedroom door.
Arthur had arranged breakfast to arrive. Containers neatly unpacked. Plates already set. Our bags were stacked by the door, our coats laid out. The compass sat on the table.
I pushed myself upright, hair a mess, brain still catching up.
“Good morning,” Arthur said when I walked in the kitchen.
“You ordered food,” I said, because stating obvious facts was how I oriented myself to reality.
“Yes,” he said. “You didn’t eat enough last night.”
I had eaten plenty, but I took the plate from him without arguing.
It was a ridiculously generous helping. Soft, glossy eggs, thick, warm bread. The fruit had been arranged to be appealing to the eye. It was more food than I could finish on a good day.
I stared at it, then at him. “You know I’m not a dragon.”
“I’m aware,” he said calmly. “Eat anyway.”
I did, because it was excellent. Possibly the best breakfast I had ever had. Or maybe my hunger went beyond food.
We ate side by side, unhurried.
Once my brain fully came online, he slid the compass closer.
“The first step is simple,” he said. “We follow this.”
“To the heart of Atlantis,” I murmured.
He nodded. “As close as it will allow.”
I took a sip of coffee and felt the day settle into place. Whatever waited for us out there, whatever truths or dangers or impossibilities lay ahead, we were moving toward them.
We were just finishing breakfast when Arthur’s phone rang.
The sound cut cleanly through the easy quiet we’d settled into, and I watched the shift happen in himimmediately. His attention sharpened as he checked the screen. Whatever was on the other end was important.
