THIS IS ATLANTIS?” SOPHIE COULDN’T quite hide her disappointment.

  They were in the middle of nowhere, on a patch of dark rocks surrounded by white-capped waves. The only signs of life were a few seagulls, and all they did was screech and poop. It was hardly the lost continent she’d expected.

  “This is how we get to Atlantis,” Alden corrected as he stepped across a tide pool toward a triangular rock. “Atlantis is underneath us, where light doesn’t reach. We can’t leap there.”

  It was hard not to slip on the slick rocks as she followed Fitz, especially in the red shoes Alden insisted she wear to match the long gown. She’d begged to wear pants, but apparently it was a sign of status for a girl to wear a gown, especially in Atlantis, which Alden explained was a noble city, which meant members of the nobility had offices there. The empire waist and beaded neckline of her dress made her feel like she was wearing a costume.

  It was even stranger seeing Fitz in elvin clothes: a long blue tunic with elaborate embroidery around the edges and slender pockets sewn into the sleeves—the exact same size as his pathfinder. Black pants with pockets at the ankles—so he didn’t have to sit on the stuff he carried, he’d explained—and black boots completed the look. No sign of tights or pointy shoes—thankfully—but he looked more like an elf now, which made everything more real.

  A rock moved under her foot and she fell into Fitz’s arms. “Sorry,” she whispered, knowing her face was as red as her dress.

  Fitz shrugged. “I’m used to it. My sister, Biana, is clumsy too.”

  She wasn’t sure she liked that comparison. “So, Atlantis really sank?” she asked, changing the subject as she fo

llowed him to a ledge high above the water.

  “The Ancients engineered the catastrophe,” Alden answered. He opened a secret compartment in the side of the strange rock, revealing hundreds of tiny glass bottles, grabbed one, and joined them on the ledge. “How else would humans think we disappeared?”

  Sophie glanced at the label on the bottle. ONE WHIRLPOOL. OPEN WITH CARE.

  “Step back.” Alden uncorked the top and flung the bottle into the ocean. A huge blast of wind whipped against their faces, and the roar of churning water filled the air.

  “Ladies first,” Alden shouted, pointing to the edge.

  “I’m sorry—what?”

  “Maybe you should go first, Dad,” Fitz suggested.

  Alden nodded, gave a quick wave, and jumped. Sophie screamed.

  Fitz laughed beside her. “Your turn.” He dragged her toward the edge.

  “Please tell me you’re joking,” she begged as she tried—and failed—to pull away.

  “It looks worse than it is,” he promised.

  She gulped, staring at the maelstrom swirling beneath her. Cold, salty water sprayed her face. “You seriously expect me to jump?”

  “I can push you if you’d prefer.”

  “Don’t even think about it!”

  “Better jump then. I’ll give you to the count of five.” He stepped toward her. “One.”

  “Okay, okay.” She wanted to keep what little dignity she had left.

  She took a slow, deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped off the edge, screaming the whole way down. It took her a second to realize she wasn’t drowning, and another after that to stop flailing around like an idiot. She opened her eyes and gasped.

  The whirlpool formed a tunnel of air, dipping and weaving through the dark water like the craziest waterslide ever. She was actually starting to enjoy the ride when she launched out of the vortex onto an enormous sponge. It felt like being licked from head to toe by a pack of kittens—minus the kitten breath—and then the sponge sprang back, leaving her standing on a giant cushion.

  Her hands froze as she smoothed her dress. “I’m not wet.”

  “The sponge absorbs the water when you land. Incoming!” Alden yanked her out of the way as Fitz rocketed onto the sponge, right where she’d been standing.

  She jumped off the sponge to the slightly squishy ground. It felt like packed wet sand.

  “Now, this is Atlantis.” Alden gestured to the gleaming metropolis ahead of them.

  Sophie’s eyes felt like they had to stretch to take it all in. The city was wrapped in a dome of air, which faded into the ocean beyond. Twisted crystal towers soared into the skyline, bathing the silver city in the soft blue glow radiating from their pointed spires. The buildings lined an intricate network of canals, interconnected by arched bridges. It reminded her of pictures she’d seen of Venice, but everything was sleek and modern and clean. Despite being at the bottom of the ocean, the air was crisp and fresh. The only clue that they were underwater was a muted hum in the background, like the sound she’d heard when she put a seashell to her ear.

  “You guys build with crystal a lot,” Sophie observed as she followed Alden into the city.

  Alden smiled. “Crystal stores the energy we use to power everything, and it’s cut to let precisely the right amount of light in. Of course, we had to make some changes when we moved Atlantis underwater. We plated the buildings with silver so they’d reflect the firelight we created in the spires and help illuminate the city.”

  “Why did you sink Atlantis, and not the other cities?”

  “We built Atlantis for humans. That’s why you know the real name of the city. A long time ago humans walked these very streets.”

  Sophie looked around. Elves wandered the shops looking young and elegant. The men wore heavy velvet capes, like they belonged at a Renaissance fair, and some of the women’s gowns shifted color as they moved. Signs advertised two-for-one specials on bottled lightning or fast approval on Spyball applications. A child strolled past with some sort of hybrid chicken-lizard on a leash. No wonder humans invented crazy myths after the elves disappeared.

  They reached the main canal, and Alden hailed one of the carriages floating along the water—a silver, almond-shaped boat with two rows of high-backed benches. A driver in an elbow-length green cape steered from the front bench, drawing the reins of some sort of brown creature skimming the surface of the waves.

  Sophie shrieked as the eight-foot-long scorpion with deadly pincers reared against the reins. Its tail curled up, looking ready to sting. “What is that thing?”

  “An eurypterid,” Alden explained. “A sea scorpion.”

  “You’re not afraid, are you?” Fitz asked.

  She moved farther away.

  “What is it with girls?” Fitz leaned down and stroked the shiny brown shell along the eurypterid’s back. Sophie waited for the pincers to slice him in half, but the creature held still, emitting a low hissing sound, like it enjoyed being petted. “See? Harmless.”

  Fitz jumped into the carriage.

  Alden followed, holding the door open for her. “Quinlin’s waiting, Sophie. It’s time to find out what’s in that impenetrable mind of yours.”