Chapter 2

The stables were dark and warm, filled with the scents of straw, and the musk of horses. The smell was sweet and unfamiliar to Kida, as she peered over the stable door at the huge animal within.

"What amazing creatures!" She said, extending a hand to touch its muzzle. The horse explored her palm with its rubbery lips, searching for any hidden treats.

"Yes. Amazing." Said Milo, patting it on the neck. He had seen so many strange creatures in Atlantis: lava dogs like Obby, with their silicon-reinforced skin and rock-crushing teeth, delicate flying creatures with wings made of crystalline slivers, creatures ranging in size from the vast lava whales down to tiny, phosphorescent flies. Now, it seemed so strange to be back on the surface, and for Kida to be the one staring in wonder.

The horse stopped its exploration of Kida's hand, lowered its head, and gave a low, soft cough.

"What an unusual cry."

"What? No, that's not what they sound like normally. This one's just sick."

Kida frowned a little, looking quizzically at the creature.

"This world is so strange. It has so many wonders…and yet up here, people and animals suffer and weaken, without being injured or old."

"You don't have disease in Atlantis?"

"We have suffering, yes. We have accidents beyond the power of the crystal to heal, and once one has become old, no force can turn back time. But not this. The power of the crystal infuses us, and sustains us. I have never seen this sort of thing before."

There was silence for a moment. It dawned in Milo that it was true: he had never seen any form of contagious illness in Atlantis. Given that he had brought a party of unwashed mercenaries from all corners of the globe, and led them straight to an isolated civilization, it was probably a very good thing.

"We cope." He said, after a while. "We're getting better all the time. Why, I'm sure old Sweet will have these horses back on their feet in no time."

There was an explosive whinny from one of the far stables, and the sound of Sweet's voice.

"Whoa there! It's just a thermometer! Easy now!"

"…On second thoughts, Kida, perhaps we should get back to the farmhouse. It's getting late."

She nodded, and walked with him to the door. Darkness had fallen, and to his surprise, a thick, wet fog had rolled in from the ocean. It clung to his skin, hot and damp, bringing a dirty, itchy feeling. From the look on Kida's face she felt the same. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and headed for the glowing lights of the farmhouse.

Around them, the ocean moaned low, crashing fitfully against the base of the cliff. Milo walked cautiously, always peering through to fog to check where his feet were landing.

"This mist smells strange." Kida's voice cut through the moaning waves. Milo sniffed the air. Indeed, the fog did smell strange. It didn't carry with it the fresh smell of the sea, nor the reek of rotting seaweed, but a different, pungent odour. It smelt of rot, of something that had died long ago and bloated in the sun. Milo wrinkled his nose.

"Oh. My gosh, that's strong. Perhaps a sheep died upwind or something?"

"Perhaps. …What are these sheep?"

"…I'll explain it later."

They had reached the old farmhouse by this point, the lights driving off the fog. The door was latched, and Milo gratefully opened it, him and Kida escaping from the stinking mist. Instead, the inside of the cottage was filled with the smell of meat and onions.

Mavis appeared from the kitchen, a bowl of potatoes in her hands.

"Ah, you're back. Please forgive us for starting without you. Will the doctor be joining us?"

"Er, not for a while, I don't think." Said Milo. "He seemed a little busy."

"I'll put some aside for him and Thomas. As for you two, you must be starving. Come on in."

Milo gratefully let Kida and himself be led to the table, and served steaming bowls of stew. Despite growing to love Atlantean food, and almost knowing all the correct ways to stab it before it escaped the plate, he had to admit he missed surface food. It was a joy to be eating something that was neither live, nor boiled in lard until the last vitamin had expired.

Across the table from them sat a little boy, nestled between Vinny and his sister . He had finished his bowl, and looking left and right to make sure his mother wasn't looking, lowered the bowl of leftovers down to Obby. The lava dog licked the bowl clean with his huge pink tongue, and with one deft moment, flicked the bowl out of the boy's grasp, crunching and swallowing it within seconds. The boy's eyes widened.

"Er, he's a Ghanan giant chameleon." Milo lied, through a mouthful of potatoes. "They eat pretty much everything." The boy quickly withdrew his hands. "Oh, but don't worry. He's well-trained. …Mostly."

The little girl reached down and patted Obby on the head, and looked up at Kida in vague wonderment, before looking back down at her stew and moving it around the plate. After a few more moments of poking, she peeked up again shyly, before quickly glancing back.

"Are you alright, child? Is there something you wish to say?"

She jolted, and glanced up a little nervously, through a curtain of wispy dark hair.

"Well… I don't know whether Alistair's just lying again. But…but he said he heard your friends saying that you…that you were a princess. …Are you a princess?"

Kida leant forward across the table a little.

"No, I am not a princess."

"I knew you were lying!" The girl glowered at her brother, who was in the act of slipping Obby his fork.

"I used to be one, for many years. Now I am the queen of my people."

The girl's eyes widened, hear mouth falling open a fraction.

"You are a princess! …Queen, I mean." A huge smile lit her face. "What's it like? Do you have a crown? A big carriage with horses and goldy bits? Big poofy dresses?" She stretched her arms wide, miming and appropriate level of poofiness.

"I have my formal attire, yes child. It is not greatly "poofy", however. We do not have horse-creatures where I come from, but for years, our royal family has raised many fine Wegenoks to pull our chariots." Kida noticed the expression of confusion on the girl's face. "You do not have Wegenoks? They are fine creatures. They have great strength in all twelve of their legs, and the harnesses can be easily attached to their carapace-spines."

The girl managed to stifle her mildly horrified expression, and struck out for more reliable waters, pointing a nubby finger at Milo.

"Is he your prince?"

"He is my Royal Consort and the man I love, yes."

Milo blushed, curling over his bowl of stew in the hopes that it would hide his face. The little girl did not notice, and continued her line of questioning.

"Did he rescue you from a dragon like a proper prince?"

"…No, no, no. Nothing like that." Milo squeaked.

Vinny looked up from his empty bowl.

"Eh Milo, don't run yourself down. You zapped a load of guys with a big stone shark, you killed a guy with a balloon propeller, then you set off a volcano. I think that counts."

"I..I'm just happy that I'm with Kida." Milo stammered.

"It'd count for me, if I was a princess." Vinny mused.

They were interrupted by Mavis backing into the room with a steaming tray. Alistair hurriedly withdrew the placemat he was in the act of feeding to Obby, and hid it behind his back.

"Now, I don't normally make pudding, but then again, I don't normally have guests." She said with a slightly weary smile. "Alistair? Where's your bowl?"

"…I washed it up already."

"Oh, good boy. Now, who's for pudding? Milo?"

"Oh, yes please, Mrs Murrain."

"He's a proper prince, mummy!"

Mavis looked around at her daughter.

"What makes you say that, Beth?"

"He killed a man!" Beth chirped, with a cheery grin.

"It was an accident! I mean, well, he was coming for me, and it was all a blur, and suddenly his head was in the propeller, and it went smoosh! And he wasn't really a man by that point, on account of the stabbing!" Milo looked up into Mavis' horrified face. He hurriedly got to his feet, knocking his chair over behind him, and scrambled for the door. "Wow, would you look at the time! I oughta be getting to bed. Not that your pudding doesn't look lovely, of course. Er…night-night!"

There was a moment of silence, in which the sounds of Milo scuttling clumsily up the stairs were clearly audible. In the silence, Vinny raised his hand.

"Given the circumstances, can I have his pudding?"

.