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Beside him, Brynne drew in a sharp breath. “Zael, their palms.”
Light glowed from the scouts’ hands, the combined power holding the boat suspended in the water. Because they knew him—two of the sentries having served with him in Selene’s legion before the fall of the realm—his vessel was merely stopped on the water, not immediately driven back… Or worse.
“It’s all right,” he told Brynne. “They don’t mean us harm. Not unless they decide we pose an immediate threat.”
He lifted his hand to them, his own palm glowing dimly in greeting. Inside the protective veil provided by the colony’s crystal, Atlanteans could use their light freely, without the threat of betraying themselves to anyone on the outside.
As he held his hand up to the lookouts, the sea started to churn and bubble between the boat and the beach. Brynne gripped the railing, a look of astonishment on her face as a platform of smooth stone rose up from the surface of the water to meet them, forming a temporary dock that led to the shore.
“That’s amazing,” she gasped, her eyes filled with wonderment.
Zael dimmed his light and gestured for her to follow him. “Here we go. Let me do the talking when we reach the shore.”
She nodded and stepped in behind him as they disembarked and headed across the wet stones toward the beach. The four sentries materialized on the sand, forming a physical barrier at the end of the path.
“They aren’t carrying weapons,” Brynne remarked quietly. “That must be a good sign, right?”
Zael didn’t reply. He kept his gaze trained straight ahead, knowing all too well that his comrades wouldn’t need weapons to disable Brynne and him if they felt they posed a threat.
Hard stares greeted Zael as he strode up onto the beach with Brynne at his side.
One of the two former legion soldiers gaped at him in outrage. “What the fuck is this?”
“Elyon.” Zael acknowledged the sentry with a nod. “I’m here to see the council of elders.”
“Bringing an outsider with you?” The sentry scoffed. His brows shot up, his blue gaze incredulous under the crown of his golden curls. “Have you lost your mind, Zael?”
The other of his former comrades, a craggy-faced, dark-haired behemoth named Vaenor, stared at Brynne. “What’s the meaning of this, Zael? Does this human understand you may have just sealed her death warrant by bringing her through the veil?”
Zael didn’t correct the error, nor did Brynne. She stood silent, didn’t as much as flinch under the harsh glower that used to make seasoned Atlantean soldiers quiver in their boots, nor the grimly issued warning.
Pride swelled in Zael’s chest, along with a dark, vibrating current of protectiveness that made him fully ready to take down all four of these guards if any one of them dared an untoward move against her. For all of the many reasons he should have been reluctant to bring Brynne to the colony, this was the one that settled upon him most heavily now.
He would destroy anyone who sought to harm her, even his own people.
Even if it meant losing his place with the only home he still had.
After a long moment, Vaenor’s scowl slid to Zael. “I knew sooner or later you’d wear out your welcome here. This move is ballsy, even for you, captain.”
The male leaned heavily on Zael’s old title, his disapproval more than evident in his tone.
Indara, the sole female of the group, nodded as Vaenor spoke. “He’s right, Zael. The elders will have no choice but to banish you.”
“If they don’t order us to take both of your heads first,” added Rasaphael, the fourth member of the guard detail.
A booming, deep voice rose above the others. “That decision will be the elders’ and no one else’s.”
Zael knew the Atlantean who had materialized on the beach behind the sentries. Nethilos, one of six individuals who comprised the council of the elders, now strode up to confront Zael.
The tall male’s shoulder-length, walnut-brown hair was brushed back from his dark olive face, making his golden-brown eyes seem even more arresting than usual. His brows furrowed as he glanced from Brynne to Zael.
“We’ve known each other too long for games, so I’ll assume this breach of colony law is with good reason.”
“It is,” Zael said, inclining his head in deference to the elder who was also a long-respected friend. “I’m here on a matter that concerns everyone within and outside the veil.”
Nethilos considered him in a prolonged, measured silence. “Do you come here with a pure heart and good intent?”
It was a vow Zael was asked to make each time he returned to the colony from outside. And one he gave freely now. “Yes, my friend.”
