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.”
ve a vague shrug. “A handful of years. But time is measured differently by my people. Years pass as days after you’ve lived for many centuries. Or longer.”
“How long for you?”
“My age? I was there when Atlantis fell.” Some of his wry humor returned to his deep voice now. “Suffice it to say I stopped counting the centuries a long time ago.”
“So old,” she said, returning his grin. “You don’t seem a day over a thousand.”
He gave her a sensual smirk that sent a lick of heat through her veins. “Don’t tempt me, or I might change course just so I can make you eat those words.”
She nearly begged him to make good on that threat. But as they spoke, she noticed how the sunshine that had followed them the entirety of their sail had started to become lost amid the curtain of thickening mist they were passing through now.
No, not quite a mist, Brynne realized.
It was the bank of clouds that had seemed perpetually floating just beyond the bow of the boat. They had finally reached it. Sailed directly into the heart of it, in fact.
And now that she was paying attention, she saw that the waves had begun to gentle beneath them. Instead of slicing through the water, the boat had slowed to nearly a stall.
Zael let go of the wheel and stepped out of the cockpit. Brynne followed warily, mesmerized by the stillness of the sea as it lapped gently against the hull. The cloud that enveloped them was cool against her face as she walked carefully to where Zael now stood at the bow of the boat.
“What’s happening?”
He didn’t answer. He glanced at her, no trace of levity or flirtation in his eyes anymore.
Only sober purpose.
Raising his hand—the one bearing the silvery Atlantean amulet at his wrist—Zael closed his eyes and went very still for a moment. As he did, the small crystal on the leather thong on his wrist began to glow.
The foggy mist hanging in the air began to swirl and dissipate before Brynne’s face.
When it cleared, she found herself looking at a gleaming, sun-spangled island paradise.
A pristine stretch of pearly white beach ribboned the perimeter of the land, which was resplendent with soaring, lush green hillsides dotted with flowering bushes, vineyards, and citrus orchards. Staggered rows of snow-white stucco cottages with sunbaked, terra cotta tile roofs overlooked the water as they followed the land’s incline and flanked the narrow passages of meandering footpaths and cobbled streets.
It was breathtaking.
Magical.
The most beautiful place she’d ever seen.
When she tore her gaze away to look at Zael, she found him studying her unabashed awe.
“Welcome to the colony, Brynne.”
CHAPTER 27
“Zael,” Brynne murmured warily, nodding toward the highest hill. “Up there.”
“Yes. I see them.”
He’d spotted the four Atlantean sentries the instant the sailboat had cleared the mist. He’d felt their energy even before he and Brynne approached the colony’s veil—as his fellow Atlanteans had most surely felt his. The three males and one female stood on the promontory of the hillside scouting the water, observing as the sailboat entered the protected domain.