Simi glared at him. “It’s not the book dragon. She’s sleeping on her island! I told you, it’s them unquality Atlantean gods!”
Cursing under his breath, he nodded. “Sim, go to Apollymi and tell her what’s happened. Xirena, find Acheron and tell him that we need him immediately.”
Danger staggered as the floor buckled again. “What’s down there?”
“Acheron’s relatives.”
“Pardon?”
Alexion turned pale. “Remember when you asked me what happened to all the Atlantean gods?”
“Yeah.”
Alexion sighed. “Apparently, they’re all downstairs … turned to stone by Apollymi, which is the part I knew. I just wasn’t sure of their exact location.”
Xirena pointed to her sister. “Now set free by Xiamara.”
Oh yeah … this was bad indeed. Alexion knew he had to do something. Fast.
“Where are you going?” Danger called as he started to leave.
Alexion gave her a droll stare. “To get Savitar. We’re going to need all hands on deck for this disaster.”
She frowned. “Well, how many gods are down there?”
“About a hundred.”
“Great,” Danger said with a hysterical note in her voice. “Love your calm demeanor, hon. And it’s a good thing I’m already a ghost.”’Cause their chances of living through this?
About as good as surviving a brunch where you cut in front of a Charonte in the all-you-can-eat barbecue line.
“Yeah, yeah. Just call Urian in Minnesota!”
December 23, 2012
Savitar paused as he watched Styxx, silhouetted by the setting sun, on top of a small dune. He’d stripped down to nothing but his loose pants and boots while he played Frisbee with his dog. Over and over, Styxx would laughingly take the Frisbee, praise the animal, then wait for the dog to run out again so that he could toss it for the dog to jump, catch it, and return.
It was the first time he’d ever seen Styxx at ease. Unguarded. For that matter, it was the only time he’d known the prince to play.
Or laugh.
And as he watched Styxx with the dog, he didn’t see the feral military commander who’d terrified a pantheon and nation, or the rigid prince who had to ooze decorum at all times. He didn’t even see a man. He saw the boy who had never been given a chance to live. One who’d been cut down in his youth and deprived of a normal, mortal life.
Because of the way Styxx and Acheron acted, the maturity, responsibility, and pain they held that went far beyond their years, it was easy to forget how young they’d been when they died. But Savitar saw it now.
And the injustice of it burned inside his heart.
I have no right to ask this of him.
None of them did. Guilt gutted him as he felt for the childhood and life Styxx would have had, had the gods not interfered. Styxx would have been that beloved, cherished prince that everyone thought he was. His destiny would have been something else entirely.
And Styxx would have been a Chthonian …
To save and protect Acheron from those who hunted him and wanted him dead as a child, they all had taken a turn at ruining Styxx.
Savitar knew he should go and leave the boy in peace. Styxx wanted only to be alone, and he’d certainly earned the right to it.
But he couldn’t. Acheron was too important to the world.
Most of all, he was too important to Savitar personally.
Savitar waited until Styxx had poured water into a bowl for the dog before he appeared beside him.
Faster than he could blink, Styxx had a knife in one hand and a gun in the other. Both angled at Savitar’s head.
“Impressive.” Savitar hadn’t even known Styxx was armed.
Gone was any hint of the boy who’d been playing with his dog just moments before. This was the rigid general who had led armies and fought gods and gladiators in an arena with such strength and cunning that his enemies had been forced to resort to tricks and traps to defeat him.
As the old saying went, never say “why me.” Rather say, “try me.” That was Styxx in a nutshell.
Styxx glared his hatred. “What do you want?”
“You to point those somewhere else.”
He lowered them to Savitar’s groin.
“Cute.”
Smirking, Styxx tucked the gun into the holster at his back and returned the knife to the sheath on his forearm. “Whatever it is you want, it has nothing to do with me.”
“Some of the Atlantean gods have returned.”
“As I said, it has nothing to do with me.”
“They want vengeance.”
Styxx bent down to pull his water out from under his aba. “So?”
“On Acheron.”
Styxx took a swig of his bottled water before he capped it. “Nothing to do with me.”
“So that’s it, then? You’re just going to let your brother die? And he will.… There’s no way for him to survive this.”
Styxx swallowed the pain inside him. “Are you deaf? The gods know, Acheron has said it enough. I don’t have a brother.”
“The world as you know it will end.”
He laughed at that. “The world as I knew it ended the moment my wife and son were killed. And anything remotely related to the life I once lived ended while I was held prisoner for over eleven thousand years. I know nothing of this place and I have no dog in this fight. It has nothing to do with me,” he repeated. He headed toward his horse and camel.
“Tory’s pregnant again.”
Styxx froze as those words cut him to the quick. “Good for her … and Acheron.”
“Are you really going to condemn an innocent woman and her two children to live without their husband and father?”
“That’s not fair!” he growled, glowering at the Chthonian he wanted to shoot.
“Life, like war, isn’t fair. It just is. Isn’t that what Galen taught you?”
Styxx winced at the reminder of all he’d lost … because of his brother and the gods he’d hated since the moment of his birth. “You’re not helping your case by reminding me of Apollo’s treachery, Chthonian.”
“Fine, then. Stay here in your desert. At least you’ll have the comfort of knowing Acheron’s widow and orphaned children will be able to commiserate with your pain.”
Whirling about in fury, Styxx threw the water bottle at him.
Savitar ducked. Had it hit him, it would have counted.
“I hate all of you!” Styxx growled deep in his throat. A throat that was still damaged because of Acheron and the gods who could never leave him alone.
Damn it all …
No, damn them all.
None of them had ever taken pity on him. He was thrown aside and forgotten like garbage.
Until they needed him.
All he’d ever wanted was a family. One person who treated him like he mattered to them. And all he’d gotten was disappointment.
From all of them. It’d taken him centuries to come to terms with that one single fact.
What the fuck does it matter? Really? He didn’t have a life. He never had.
And he damn sure didn’t have his wife or his child …
Never mind two kids.
Go ahead and die already. There was no one to mourn his passing.
Angry, hurt, and aching over a fact he’d never been able to change, Styxx pulled his aba on, then jerked his backpack up from the ground. His breathing ragged, he glared his hatred at Savitar. “Can you make sure my animals and gear go to someone who needs them and that my dog doesn’t get eaten by his new caretaker?”
Savitar was stunned. “You agree?”
Styxx averted his gaze as a thousand emotions pile-drived him to the point where he didn’t really know what he felt. Other than hurt and alone.
But that was nothing new for him.
He met Savitar’s stoic lavender gaze. “I’ve never been quite the bastard all of you labeled me. You knew I couldn’t let him die, otherwise you wouldn’t have come here.”
“Thank you, Styxx.”
“For what?”
“Being the man I knew you were.”
“Go fuck yourself, Savitar. Just take me wherever I need to go and stop with the sentimental bullshit you don’t mean before I give in to my desire to punch the shit out of you.”
*
Urian stood beside Davyn, listening to Sin and Katra review their plans for fighting against the Atlantean gods. It was all well and good, except for one thing.