The woman and her warriors led the Whitmore Expedition over a rickety wooden bridge. If falling didn't kill a careless person, the bubbling lava below surely would.
Eleanor and Milo sat together in the back of Rourke and Helga's truck. Since two of the vehicles had been destroyed, passengers had to be shifted to accommodate. Milo was giddily trying to explain Atlantean to Eleanor. Usually, she would have enjoyed hearing him passionately speak about Atlantis, but talking about the language reminded Eleanor of Sylvia's fate.
"Milo," Eleanor finally interrupted. "We lost some people in that fire. Sylvia didn't make it."
Milo paused and looked up at her, but it took a moment for him to focus on her face.
"Oh my gosh," he breathed. "I…I didn't know."
Eleanor shook her head sadly.
"It's ok. I didn't know her that well but," she paused. "But I guess I realized for the first time that living through this isn't guaranteed."
When Milo didn't say anything, she continued.
"You weren't with us after the bridge collapsed. I thought for a moment that you might be dead too. I know that I'm on this trip to look after things for Grandpa, but I'm here for you too, Milo. I don't even want to think about what I would do - what any of us would do - if you had died in that cave."
She hung her head and started to cry. She felt stupid for being like this when they had finally discovered the Lost City. She felt Milo's hands wrap around hers. She looked up and met his sympathetic gaze.
"Hey," he said gently. "You don't have to think about it, ok? I'm not going anywhere. Besides, the hard part is over now. Now we get to explore Atlantis. Atlantis!"
There it was again. Milo's eyes filled with the same fire they always had when he spoke about Atlantis. She let out a tearful giggle and pulled a hand away to wipe her eyes.
"Take that, Mr. Harcourt!" she exclaimed. She thrust a fist in the air and threw her head back. Milo laughed and copied her. They felt the truck stop and turned their attention to the back flap. Helga poked her head in and beckoned them with her hand.
"Come on. We split up from here."
Milo and Eleanor joined the others. Dr. Sweet stood stretching his big arms and yawning. Humorously, Mole stood in front of him and copied his movements. It was far less impressive when the little man raised his arms above his head.
"Put those down or you'll kill someone," Vinny snapped, pinching his nose. Mole grumbled and obediently lowered his arms.
Rourke cleared his throat and everyone turned their attention to him.
"Rest up and relax a little," he boomed. "We'll rendezvous after I meet with the local authorities. Miss Sinclair, Mr. Thatch? You're with me."
The female warrior led Milo, Helga, and Rourke up a steep staircase. At the top stood two guards who both frowned at the trio, but at the woman's nod, they opened the stone doors and revealed the palace of the king.
"This is your father?" Milo asked quietly. The woman nodded and stepped into the room.
In the center of the cavernous room was a platform that held a massive statue of a man. The head was detached from the body and sat off to the side. Water poured from the eyes like tears and supplied water to a pool that covered most of the floor of the room. Next to the head sat a bench-like throne. Above it hung a canopy made of multicolored cloths. The king sat slumped off to one side of the throne. In order to approach him, the woman led Milo and the others across stepping stones.
The warrior princess knelt before her father and bowed with her hands pressed together in front of her face. She began to address him in Atlantean. Milo quickly mimicked the princess' posture and was surprised to see that Helga and the commander remained standing and looking, quite frankly, irreverent.
He turned his attention back to the royal family. The princess seemed to be pleading with her father, who was unmoved. Milo couldn't catch everything they were saying, but he understood enough to know that the king did not want the explorers in his city and that he was denying the help that the princess seemed sure that they might be able to offer.
"Your majesty?" Rourke said with a sweeping bow. "On behalf of my crew, may I say it is an honor to be welcomed to your city."
Milo cleared his throat and discreetly tried to get the commander's attention. How could Rourke have so terribly misread the situation?
"You presume much to think you are welcome here," the king replied callously. The princess turned back toward Milo and looked down in resignation. Rourke was less receptive.
"Oh, sir," he pleaded. "We have come a long way looking for-"
"I know what you seek and you will not find it here. Your journey has been in vain."
"But we are peaceful explorers, men of science," argued Rourke. He kept his pleasant tone, but Milo could see that he was losing patience. The king only laughed.
"And yet you bring weapons," he mused.
"Our weapons allow us to remove…obstacles we may encounter," Rourke explained.
"Some 'obstacles' cannot be removed with a mere show of force," the king replied. He stood with support from the ornate staff that sat propped against his throne. "Return to your people. You must leave Atlantis at once."
Rourke wiped his forehead in frustration and continued to try and reason with the king. Milo tapped him on the shoulder gingerly.
"Not now, son."
"Trust me on this," Milo pleaded with a grimace. "We better do as he says."
"May I respectfully request that we stay one night, sir?" Rourke asked. "That would give us time to rest, resupply, and be ready to travel by morning."
The king considered the commander's counter offer.
"Very well. One night. That is all."
The king dismissed the group with a wave of his hand. Rourke thanked the king before turning to leave. Milo looked over his shoulder again at the princess. She watched them go with a heavy sigh.