I took his little hand into mine. A soft hand. A boy's hand. There was no malice in it. No murder.
Acheron had always been a tender child. While Styxx sought to whine and complain over every minor thing, to take my toys and those of any other child near him, Acheron had sought only to make peace. To comfort those around him.
He seemed older than a child of seven. There were times when he seemed even older than I.
His eyes were strange. Their silver, swirling color betrayed the birthright that linked him to the gods. But surely that should make him special not horrendous.
I offered him a smile that I hoped would ease some of his pain. "One day, Acheron, the world will know just what a special boy you are. The day will come when no one will fear you. You shall see."
I moved to hug him, but he pulled back. He was used to people hurting him and even though he knew I wouldn't, he was still reluctant to accept my comfort.
As I stood, the door to my sitting room opened. A large number of guards came inside.
Scared of the sight, I stepped back not knowing what they wanted. Acheron clenched his small fists in the skirt of my blue gown as he huddled behind my right leg.
My father and uncle walked through the men until they stood before me. The two of them were virtually identical in looks. They had the same blue eyes, the same wavy blond hair and fair skin. Though my uncle was three years younger than my father, one would never guess to look at them. They could easily pass as twins.
"I told you he would be with her," my father said to Uncle Estes. "He's corrupting her again."
"Don't worry," Estes said. "I shall take care of the matter. You'll never again have to worry about him."
"What do you mean?" I asked, terrified of their dire tone. Did they intend to kill Acheron?
"Never you mind," my father snapped at me. I'd never heard such a harsh tone from him before. It made my blood run cold.
He grabbed Acheron and shoved him toward my uncle.
Acheron looked panicked. He reached for me, but my uncle took him roughly by his arm and jerked him away.
"Ryssa!" Acheron called.
"No!" I shouted, trying to help him.
My father pulled me back and held me. "He is going to a better place."
"Where?"
"Atlantis."
I watched in horror as Acheron was taken away, screaming for me to save him.
Atlantis was a long way from here. Too far, and up until a very short time ago, we'd been at war with them. I'd heard nothing but terrible things about that place and everyone who lived there.
I looked up at my father, sobbing. "He'll be afraid."
"His kind are never afraid."
Acheron's screams and pleas denied those words.
My father might be a powerful king, but he was wrong. I knew the fear inside Acheron's heart.
And I knew the fear of my own.
Would I ever see my brother again?
November 3, 9532 BC
It had been nine years since I last saw my brother, Acheron. Nine years and not a day had gone by without my wondering what he was doing. How he was being treated.
Whenever Estes visited, I always took him aside and asked about Acheron.
"He's fine and healthy, Ryssa. I cherish him as an addition to my household. He has everything he requires. I shall be glad to tell him that you asked after his welfare."
Still, something inside me was never quite content with those words. I'd petitioned father repeatedly to send for Acheron. To at least bring him home for a holiday. As a prince, he should never have been sent away. Yet there he stayed in a country that was constantly on the brink of war with ours. Even though Estes was an ambassador, it didn't change the fact that if we went to war, Acheron, as a Greek Prince, would be killed.
And Father refused every request I made.
I'd been writing to Acheron for years and normally he wrote back religiously. His letters were always brief with only a handful of details, but even so I cherished every one.
So when a letter had come to me a few weeks ago, I'd thought nothing unusual about it.
Not until I read it.
Greetings most esteemed and exalted Princess Ryssa.
Forgive me for my forwardness. Forgive me my impertinence. I found one of your letters written to Acheron and have, at great peril to myself, decided to write to you. I cannot tell you what harms befall him, but if you truly love your brother as you say you do, then I would ask you to come and see him.
I'd told no one about the letter. It hadn't even been signed. For all I knew it was a hoax.
Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't, that Acheron needed me.
For days I debated about going until I could stand it no more.
Taking my personal guard Boraxis with me for protection, I snuck out of the palace and told my maids to tell my Father I was visiting my aunt in Athens. Boraxis thought I was a great fool for traveling all the way to Atlantis for a letter that the author hadn't even signed, but I didn't care.