Marked

“The one that will change this war forever.”

 

 

Theron watched as the king crossed to the large hand-carved desk in the sitting area of his suite. The older ándras pulled a leather-bound book from a shelf against the wall and laid it out on the shiny wood surface. After flipping the book open, he sat in his regal chair, looking every inch his six-hundred-plus years, and very royal.

 

“When Atalanta was passed over as an Argonaut and she made her pact with Hades for immortality, Zeus was very concerned she would wreak havoc on humans in retaliation, since the Argonauts were guarding the portal and she couldn’t get into Argolea to extract her vengeance on us. It’s no secret Zeus and Hades have a long-running feud, or that Hades found humor in unleashing Atalanta on the humans Zeus has long been so fascinated with. In payment for creating Argolea, Zeus commanded the Argonauts to protect not only our race, but humans as well—some would say to right the wrong of what was once one of our own. And the Argonauts have done so, for nearly three thousand years. But as you pointed out earlier, Atalanta continues to grow in strength, regardless of your efforts.”

 

His hand paused on the book. “Soon she and her army will be strong enough to overpower the Argonauts, leaving the portal unprotected. Then she can slaughter our people at will. That’s where the prophecy comes in.”

 

He turned the book so Theron could see it. Tentatively, Theron stepped forward and looked down at the handwritten page before him. The script was old, but he instantly recognized the native Argolean language.

 

“Loosely translated,” the king said, “it speaks of a—”

 

“Loophole in Atalanta’s agreement with Hades,” Theron cut in, as his eyes scanned the page. The chronicle he was reading was three thousand years old and bore the seal of Heracles himself.

 

Leonidas nodded. “Yes. Hades loves a good joke, and as you know, there’s always a catch to his bargains. Basically, this outlines the end to Atalanta’s immortality. In every generation there are to be two halves of the same whole that, when joined, will render Atalanta mortal once again.”

 

Theron’s eyes narrowed with understanding. “She’s hunting for the prophesied. To ensure her immortality.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And the halves are human?”

 

“No, my son. One is a half-breed. And one is an Argolean.”

 

Theron lifted his eyes to Leonidas. “Why have you never acknowledged the existence of half-breeds?”

 

The king sighed. “Because there aren’t enough to warrant our concern. They learned early on to keep shielded from humans, and from us as well. The earliest kings believed, unwisely, that Argoleans were superior to humans, and that included the offspring of an Argolean and a human, as well. You see, half-breeds tend to live longer than the average human, but they don’t possess the powers we do. The few half-breeds who popped up were…strongly encouraged to remain with their human parents.”

 

“Why weren’t the Argonauts told?”

 

“It’s been the burden of every king to decide how much to tell his guardians. I decided long ago, the fewer who knew of the prophecy, the safer we would all be. We have had, as you know, some Argonauts who have not been as dedicated to our cause as you and I. Some who have ignored the rules and let our people pass through the portal unchecked. And usually with terrible consequences.”

 

Theron knew that to be true. He thought briefly of Demetrius.

 

“Unfortunately,” the king went on, “I’ve changed my thinking on this point.”

 

“Why?” Theron asked with narrowed eyes. “What’s changed?”

 

“My daughter is dying.” The king moved around the desk to stand in front of Theron, wincing at the pain in his legs. “Callia has informed me of Isadora’s dwindling health. I had hoped we’d have more time, but I see now that’s a dream.”

 

The king stiffened his spine, and the regality he’d once commanded seemed to flood his shoulders and prop him up a good three inches. “I’m left without a choice, Theron. In her current state, Isadora will never rule, and without another heir, the Council will override everything I and the kings before me have fought to contain. Your marrying her will not solve this problem, not unless she is well enough to bear an heir, which we both know she is not.

 

“The Council does not understand Atalanta’s thirst for vengeance. Over the years and with the buffer the portal maintains, they’ve forgotten how vicious she can be. They want the Argonauts disbanded, seeing no need for the services you and your kin provide, aside from protecting the portal. Which, foolishly, they feel they can do themselves. If that happens, our race will be slaughtered.

 

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