Page 11 of Taken By the Crab King of Atlantis

“Probably not anytime soon.” I swigged from the bottle again, and she swiped it from me.

“Probably not if you date one of the guys Mum keeps trying to set you up with from her church,” she agrees. “You really should tell our parents to stick their whole plan for you up their asses.”

I snorted a laugh and shook my head. Mum accepted I was too busy for boys. She hasn’t yet figured out I would always be too busy for the boys she chooses. “I don’t mind the restaurant, or study. And I love piano…. I just wonder when there’ll be time for other stuff.”

“Like a life? Probably not until you’re married, if Dad has his way. I thought you were fine with that, Princess. You are the good sister, after all.” It stung a little. With guilt and the unfair pressures of being the good daughter. But Aya is as generous as she is biting. “You can definitely keep that status.” She grinned, reminding me she’d long since lost hope for our parent’s approval.

“Maybe I don’t wanna be good all the time.” Saying it aloud made me dizzier than the wine.

“Oh, does the princess wanna be bad?” A daring sparkle lit her eyes as she held the bottle out to me. “Then you should finish this bottle.”

“Nooo,” I said, pushing it back. “What about you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said, fishing under my bed and pulling out another, unopened bottle of wine from under my bed. “I’ve got the bad sister role down pat.”

The submarine rocks as it hits something, jarring me out of my memories. I clutch at my armrests to steady myself, while Nerissa emerges from the curtain with Marina in tow.

“We’re here!” Marina says, skipping down the aisle before me, grabbing my hand and tugging.

The submarine is steady, and beyond the curtain the opening hatch clanks as it opens, so I unbuckle and follow Marina.

“Come on,” Marina says, tugging me. I let her drag me out of the hatch.

I don’t look up until I step foot out of the submarine.

And when I do, I forget how to breathe. There is water… everywhere.

We’re in a small clear bubble, with water pressing in above us, and there is sand under my feet. It’s not entirely dry. A clear, round door with a metal wheel attached to it is only a foot away.

Marina has already run through that, into a much larger clear dome, arching high above us. In the larger bubble, a city stretches, promising normality.

But I look up instead. Beyond the dome, fish and seaweed drift. Large, dark shadows lurk in the distance. The source of light isn’t clear but it’s definitely not sunlight. We’re at the bottom of the ocean, where no light would reach, but it’s as luminous as the day.

Looking behind me, there’s a hole in the wall of the smaller bubble, suctioned to a matching hole in the submarine hatch.

It’s not reassuring.

I place a hand on the surface of the dome. It’s cold, solid, and feels like glass.

“I… can’t swim,” I explain, to Nerissa’s concerned expression.

“Oh, you won’t need to. It will feel much better once you’re out of the docking bay and in the full dome,” Nerissa says, and helps pry my hands loose from the cool surface. She pulls me through the glass door, to a red carpet laid out between me and a building only a few feet away. Once I’m out of the smaller bubble, it’s easier to breathe.

Nerissa turns and closes the hatch to the smaller bubble behind me, which helps. More layers between me and the water. The city is reassuringly solid and normal.

“Lord Karkinos suggested you might like a quiet entry into the city,” Nerissa explains. Ceremonial music plays from speakers I can't see, but otherwise, the red carpet is empty. Two porters in pale blue uniforms wait at the entrance of the building.

“Come on!” Marina says, grabbing my hand again and rushing forward into the building.

Nerissa stays beside me. “You may notice the air is fresh. We grow enough plants here with the luminosity of underground lamps. And we have organic alternatives to many surface technologies to maintain the delicate ecosystem of Atlantis.”

“Quite a wonder,” I agree.

When I’m walking, it feels easier to look around. In the distance, huge spires tower, and the bubble that arches over them is so invisible, the sea may as well be the sky. The sounds of distant traffic and people create a familiar background hum.

“I hope you love the city as much as we all do.” Her light words feel heavy with meaning now. But my contract is clear, so I smile politely at her and don’t respond.

The carpet under our feet is plush, and the faint scent of lemon-scented cleaning products and incense is reassuringly familiar. The decor is high-end, but as dated as the dress I’m wearing.