Chapter 29: Tragic News & A Dream

Back at the lemur habitat just twenty minutes earlier, Mauve was complaining once again.
"I have to sleep on the ground?" She had her hands on her hips.

"It's like camping." Isobel said as she climbed onto the throne. "It's only for two more nights."

"It's disgusting." Mauve crossed her arms. "I refuse."

"Go ahead, sleep in a palm tree." Julien suggested.

Mauve tilted her head up to look at the tall palms. "The ground is fine."

"Okay, so shut up a little bit." Julien said under his breath.

However, Mort heard him. "He tell me that ALL the time!"

"Go to sleep, Mort." Isobel said quietly as she settled into her usual spot.

Later on into the night, Isobel awoke, a strange noise jostling her from her sleep. She lifted her head from her folded hands, and looked to the park. She climbed down from the throne. She checked on Mikhailov, who was still asleep. He had woken up briefly during the day to eat and drink, but he needed rest. Isobel grabbed her bow and arrows, and then silently slid out of the habitat.

She walked into the moonlit park, her weapon poised. The moon was waxing, nearly three quarters full. She brushed into the trees, walking silently and taking long and careful strides. She tried to steady her breathing, and as a twig snapped behind her, she held her breath. And spun around

She let it out when she saw who it was.

Jack put his hand over his heart. "You nearly killed me!"

Isobel lowered her bow, relived it was only her brother. "What is it? Why are you here so late?"

"Strange things are happening in the city." Jack told her. "Your father's illness persists. But that is not the worst of it." The ostrich feather on his hat quivered. "Isobel, the city is dying."

Isobel lowered her voice. "The crystal?" She referred to the crystal entity that hovered in the innermost chamber of Atlantis. It was powered with the spirits of elders, and it was what gave the city its life. It was also what made the healing crystals that Atlanteans wore work.

Jack nodded. "It is dimming. The scholars do not know how much longer it will last. The king has sent me to tell you that there is not enough food for a feast. The people come first."

Isobel's voice was small. "Of course." This confused her greatly. She had seen her father that same day. Surely this was serious.

Jack gave his sister a quick hug. She saw that he was tired. He was no doubt under a lot of stress. "I have to go now." Jack said. "We're going out to sea for a couple of days. Mayhaps we can catch some crab before morning. The Conquistadora is no fishing vessel, but there's nothing else. I want to help how I can."

Isobel nodded. "I wish you well."

Jack returned to the darkness of the forest, and Isobel bit her lip to try and prevent bursting into tears at this new sadness. She turned around to head back, and received a fright.

"Julien!" She gasped.

Julien was right there. "I heard you leave and I came to look for you and-"

Isobel couldn't stand it any longer, and she began to cry. She sank onto the grass, her hands limp in her lap as she lowered her head.

Julien kneeled in the grass and tried to look her in the face. "What's wrong? Did I do something?"

Isobel shook her head, trying to compose herself. "Jack told me that Atlantis is dying. That is why my father is not healing. If the crystal dies, so does the king."

Julien wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, but he decided he probably shouldn't ask questions. "It will be all right. I have a sense for these things. The Sky Spirits tell me so."

Isobel looked up at him. Her eyes were moist but she was still lovely. "I am just worried."

Julien nodded. "I understand this. Come on. Let's go back."

He stood up and held out his hand to her. She only stared for a moment, and then delicately reached out and let him help her up. He smiled slightly at her and she sniffed. They walked back, utterly sleepy and quiet.

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Running…loud bangs and metal scraping metal…arrows and bullets whizzing by…bird-like creatures flying low…fire and nitroglycerin doused traps…this was-

"Skippa!" Private yelled. "Wake up! You're having a nightmare."

Skipper jolted and banged his head on the top of his bunk. "Argh. What time is it?"

"It's two thirty in the morning." Private answered quietly. "What was your nightmare about?"

Skipper breathed out. "War, young Private. In all its glorious horror."