“Well, now that I know where you are, I might occasionally bother you. As long as you don’t feed me grasshoppers, ants, scorpions, or other nasty multilegged things the gods never intended us to eat.”
“Stop being a baby. Eat your meat or you can’t have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?”
Urian laughed. “I am stunned you know Pink Floyd.”
Styxx shrugged as he opened Skylos’s dinner first and poured it into a small metal bowl. “Modern music is the only thing I miss about your world.”
“Next time I come, I’ll bring you a solar battery charger for your phone. Not like you don’t have an abundant supply of sunlight here.”
“That I do have. Definitely.” Styxx paused as his gaze fell to a small chest near his rifle. He went over to it and opened it, then pulled out an oiled cloth and handed it to Urian. “My gift to you, little brother.”
Urian frowned. “Thank you.” He unwrapped the cloth to find Styxx’s black-and-bronze vambraces. “Wow … how old are these?”
“They were mine back in the day. My mentor, Galen, gave them to me, and I wore them into every battle I fought.”
Urian’s jaw went slack as he realized exactly how old and valuable these were. These were a piece of history. And a treasured piece of Styxx’s past. They needed to go to a son or a museum, not to someone like him. He shook his head. “I can’t take these.”
Styxx pushed them back toward him. “I have no use for them anymore. They’re just something else I have to pack and carry, or worry about losing.”
Urian let out a long, appreciative breath. “These are incredible. I can’t believe how pristine they are. Thank you. I’ll cherish them always.”
His gratitude made Styxx extremely uncomfortable. “I know how much you like to collect antiques. And they don’t get much older than those.” He went to start the campfire so that he could cook their dinner.
Urian carefully wrapped the vambraces back into their cloth and tucked them into his backpack as he watched Styxx. His heart broke for his friend who’d felt so out of place in the world that he’d had to come to the remotest place on it to find some sense of belonging. Urian hadn’t been joking when he said that he’d go insane with this kind of isolation. This was truly a desolate, hard way to live.
But sadly, it was all Styxx knew.
All he’d ever known.
And as sad as it was, at least Styxx had found a place where he belonged. Urian was still looking. He envied Styxx his mental health here. Because the truth was, he didn’t have it.
Not even as a boy. Never in his life had he felt completely at home the way Styxx appeared. The closest he’d come had been in Phoebe’s arms.
Without her …
I’m nothing.
When surrounded by a crowd, he was forever alone. And the apocalypse was coming. If he was smart, he’d just roll with it and let it end his suffering, once and for all. Better to go out a hero, fighting.
Yeah. That would be the perfect ending. At least then, he’d finally be with the women he’d loved. Maybe then, he’d finally have the elusive place called home.
June 23, 2012
Acheron sighed in aggravation as he surveyed the empty condo he’d provided for Styxx after his brother had asked to leave Katateros. He’d been trying to catch the bastard for weeks now, but every time he “popped” in, Styxx was gone.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think Styxx had moved out. But the bankbook was still in a kitchen drawer, along with Styxx’s license and credit cards. He couldn’t have gone far without money or ID.
“Ryssa was right. You are always annoying.”
Then again, it was their birthday. Maybe Styxx was out celebrating with friends.
Ash paused at the thought. Did Styxx have any friends? Sadly, he had no idea. As Ryssa’s journals that Tory had uncovered during her excavations had shown him, there was a lot he didn’t know about his own twin brother. And the more he read, the more he was desperate to talk to Styxx.
To find the real truth.
Mentally, Ash flogged himself for not cornering Styxx when he’d been in Katateros. But he’d been too angry then to listen. Too hurt to care about Styxx’s side of anything.
Now …
Closing his eyes, he tried to pinpoint Styxx’s location. Yet all he got out of that was a migraine. New York was too big a city, with too many people in it. I should have stuck his ass on another deserted island. At least then I’d know where he is.
Even more agitated, he glanced to the bookshelves that were lined with ancient Greek books …
Written in ancient Greek. Ash held his hand up and used his powers to pull one from the shelf.
Glancing around the room, he realized then that Styxx had only written in Greek. And not just any Greek. Proto-Greek. The oldest of all the Greek variants. All his notes. Everything. That was Styxx’s native tongue.
Oh shit …
Can Styxx read English? That was something he hadn’t considered before he’d sent his brother out into the modern world. Since Styxx had been imprisoned for more than eleven thousand years, there was a good possibility that Styxx would have no idea how to read any modern language. At all. It would explain the checkbook, cards, and ID. Styxx might not have even known what those were.
You’re an effing idiot!
Replacing the book, Ash winced at his own blind stupidity and hoped that he wasn’t as big a bastard as he feared he was. Of all people, he knew how bad illiteracy sucked. Having been illiterate as a human slave, he knew that better than anyone. He couldn’t imagine trying to navigate the modern world without at least a rudimentary understanding of the English alphabet.
And with that thought, against his will, his mind went to the past—to the days before their uncle Estes had ripped him from the home he’d shared with Ryssa and Styxx.
While Ryssa would spend most of her mornings visiting with her mother, Ash would sit in her room and listen to Styxx’s tutors mercilessly grill him on all manner of subjects. As the heir to Didymos, Styxx had been required to study hard and learn as much as he could, as fast as he could. For hours every day, Styxx had been sequestered without breaks or relief. If he dared to ask for one, his tutors would report him to his father, who considered such actions as Styxx’s attempt to avoid responsibility. Something the king did not take lightly. “You’re to be a king, boy, not some sniveling wastrel!” Xerxes had been merciless with his mandates and expectations.
No wonder Styxx had been plagued with migraines.
His free time had been seriously limited. Even so, Styxx had worked around his father as best he could. And in his mind, Ash could see Styxx as a boy smiling at him while he placed a small box in Ash’s hand and sat down next to him on his bed.
“What’s this?” Ash had asked him.
“Open it and see.”
Instead, he’d reached out to brush Styxx’s blond hair back from a vicious black eye. And that hadn’t been the only damage. A bit of blood still crusted his nose and mouth. “What happened?”
Ashamed, Styxx had looked away. “As a birthday present, Father decided it was time I began my war training. Today was the first lesson, but I fear I have no talent for it. Selinius said that he’s never seen anyone more inept than me.”
Acheron felt terrible for the pain that eye must have caused him. Styxx cringed every time he blinked but said nothing about how awful it must be.
“What did Father say?”
Styxx sighed. “That I embarrassed him. He told Selinius to take no mercy. It is imperative that I learn to fight as a man and not rely on others to protect me.”
Yet Styxx was only a five-year-old child and Selinius a war hero.
Styxx nudged the box in Ash’s hands. “Open it already!”
More worried about Styxx and his fate at the hands of another tutor who hated him, Ash had obeyed. As soon as he saw the small wooden soldier, his breath caught. It was exquisite.
“Do you like it?”