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“Are you pulling my leg?” I growl.
“I do not understand,” Art responds.
“Are you trying to fool me?”
“No. Atlantis was an advanced planet. The Atlanteans were wise and kind. But they harnessed the raw energy of this universe, and that is dangerous. They knew the risks and accepted them. It was the price they paid to explore further afield, beyond the confines of their own sector of the universe.
“They fell within the space of an hour,” Art goes on, and although he has a child’s face, he looks like an adult as he gazes upon the wrecks of the buildings. “An explosion set off a chain reaction and their society crumbled. The ships they’d sent off into space were linked to the home world, so they were destroyed too. The sky filled with pollutants and ash. Death claimed nineteen billion souls. A few Atlanteans survived and mutated, but I doubt they would have wished for their offspring to end up like this. It would have been better if they’d all perished.”
Art falls silent. I stare at the boy who is the image of the child I once thought of as a brother. Now that I’m over my initial shock, I find that he was right—it’s a lot easier talking to someone who looks like a boy than a ball of light.
I study the graveyard of the world around me. Art could be lying, but I don’t think so. I’m standing on the remains of Atlantis. The most famous lost city of legends was never a city at all, but a different world. The information is mind-boggling. If Art’s telling the truth, the Atlanteans visited mankind in the past. They taught us to read and write, to build. Maybe they even bred with us and—
“No,” Art interrupts. “The Atlanteans did not breed with lesser beings.”
“This is incredible,” I gasp, the word not doing my feelings justice. “But if they traveled to our world by rockets, not windows, is this still the human universe?”
“Of course.” Art sounds surprised. “I thought that was clear.”
“You said we hadn’t crossed but I wasn’t sure.”
“We have not left your universe and will not during the course of our travels,” Art says.
“This isn’t the end?”
The boy giggles the way Art used to when he bit someone. “Hardly. This is merely the beginning of an amazing journey.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Far away,” he answers mysteriously.
“What if I don’t want to go with you?” I counter.
“You have no choice,” Art says.
“Is that a threat?”
“No,” he shrugs. “It’s just the way things are.”
“Who—or what—the hell are you?” I snap.
“Those who know us give us many names,” Art says. “Your people called us the Old Creatures.”
“Beranabus told me about them. He…” That reminds me of the ancient mage’s death and the danger the others face. “We have to go back!” I cry. “You’ve got to take me home, so I can—”
“That won’t happen,” Art says firmly. “Purge yourself of the notion. We have come far from your world. As skilled as you are at manipulating the strings of the universe, you cannot find your way back alone. You must see this journey through to its end.”
“What sort of an end?” I hiss. “Where are you taking me? And if you’re not specific this time, forget it—I’m not going to wander aimlessly through the universe with you. I’d rather stay here with the slugs.”
“Very well,” Art says. “We are traveling to the birthplace of all things, where time and space began. We call it the Crux. And it lies at the center of both this universe and the Demonata’s.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I complain.
“Don’t worry,” Art smiles smugly. “By the end it will.”
UNDER THE SEA
I TRY thinking of a way to outwit the Old Creature. While I might not be able to open a window back to Earth, I’m sure I can open one to the demon universe and return home from there. But Art reads my mind and chuckles.
