Free The Far Dawn by Kevin Emerson Page B

better,” says Lük. We step out and he and Kael and Rana share a look. “Ready to play the part?”
    â€œThree starry-eyed students of the protectorate,” says Kael cynically.
    They each produce a shimmering jade disk etched in Atlantean, and affix it to their chests above their hearts, a badge of some kind, then climb out of the craft and ascend the stairs and pass through an arched entryway.
    A guard stands just on the other side, in a copper helmet and crimson robe, holding a long staff with a gleaming blade at the end. His gaze is stern until he sees the three, then his face softens into a wrinkly smile. “There you are,” he says. “Master Alara was starting to wonder where you’d gotten off to.”
    â€œThe usual debauchery, Deniel,” says Kael. “Wine, weed”—he grabs Rana by the waist—“and wonderful women.”
    I feel Lük bristle at this. Rana doesn’t push Kael away but instead wraps her arm around Kael’s shoulder. “Isn’t he adorable,” and in seconds she has flipped him into a headlock.
    â€œAnd you are feeling well and ready?” Deniel asks.
    â€œAs we’ll ever be,” says Lük. Deniel pats Lük warmly on the shoulder as he passes, and Lük’s nerves rattle again.
    The three emerge onto a balcony, the top level of the enormous coliseum, open to the air. Because of the dome shape, this highest ring is also the smallest and the closest to the center, and so it is suspended over the legions of people below and nearly right above a round stage.
    Figures in hooded robes are assembling there, slowly making their way up staircases on different sides of the stage and forming a circle.
    â€œThere you are at last.”
    The three approach an older woman who wears the same type of robe as the figures below. Her hood is back to reveal her silver-and-blue hair. Master Alara looks like she’d be in her sixties in my time, but I can sense in Lük’s mind that she is well over one hundred.
    Much longer life was possible when the world was in harmony with me , the Terra informs me.
    Alara leans close to the three. “I need to go down and make my appearance,” she says, “and play my part. You have what you need?”
    â€œWe do, Mother,” says Rana, and I see her eyes have welled up.
    â€œDon’t,” says Alara, shaking her head, and yet I recognize her face and know that Rana is right to fear. Not long from now, Alara will stand across from them when their throats are slit, though neither she nor the rest of them know this.
    She pulls Rana to her, rubbing her shoulder. “The Terra may find worth in our lives yet.” Alara closes her eyes for a moment, breathing deep, her nose in Rana’s hair, then pulls away and brushes her robe. She lifts her hood over her head, shadowing her tear-streaked face. “I will see you after.”
    â€œGood luck,” says Kael.
    Alara sweeps out, and the three move to their seats. There are two rows in this balcony, and three seats in the front have been left open. The rest are taken by students of similar ages, but none of them speak to the three, only in hushed tones to one another. Lük catches a few wary glances, some leering, and I can feel him bristle at this, but he also thinks to himself, They don’t understand. They’ve chosen to remain blind to what is really happening.
    The coliseum is almost full, the circle of masters on the stage nearly complete. From Lük’s mind I understand that there are twelve masters, one for each realm of Atlantis. I can see the map, the Polarians in Greenland, the Vira Cocha in the Andes, Olmecia on the Yucatán, the Sumer in the Middle East, Jiahu in the Far East, and more in cities around the globe.
    We are in Atlante, the capital city, on the edge of Antarctica, its ice-covered mountains nearby. The Atlanteans consider this the center of the world, with the magnetic