“Sarraxyn?”
She appeared a few seconds later. I made you something.
Her words shocked him. “You didn’t have to make me anything.”
Aye, I did. The moment you told me that your mother would be living in the human realm, and I knew you’d be venturing to it all the more … She gave him a gimlet stare from her serpentine eyes. I know you, Uri. Ever you find trouble, even when it should be hiding. You can’t help yourself. So it had to be done or else you’d be skewered in no time.
There was truth to that. “So what did you get me? Human-away spray?”
He’d meant that as a joke.
It wasn’t spray. Rather she manifested a suit of golden-orange armor that appeared at his feet. Using her tail, she lifted it for him to see and inspect. It’s made from my scales, so it’s stronger and more resilient than any human-or Apollite-made armor. No mortal or immortal weapon can pierce it. Nor will any fire harm you so long as you wear it.
Tenderness flooded his heart at her thoughtful gift. His jaw went slack as he fingered the dragon’s head that was set in the center of the hauberk. “It’s beautiful, Xyn. How can I ever repay or thank you enough for this?”
By never getting hurt. I should be terribly put out should something happen to my only friend.
Stepping forward, he gently kissed the tip of her snout. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll make sure you go free!” And that she never got into trouble for something he did.
With that thought in his mind, he gathered his armor and headed off into the darkness before someone told Apollymi he was here and he got her punished for it.
With every step, he swore to himself that he’d free her. It was the least he could do!
Xyn didn’t move until Urian was out of sight. She should be thrilled he was determined to free her. At one time it was all she’d dreamed of.
Now …
All she wanted was Urian. Somehow over the years of their weekly visits she’d fallen quite in love with her shy Apollite boy who hadn’t so much as kissed her.
And he was the one thing she could never have.
You are a fool, Sarraxyn.
Her brother, Veles, would be the first one to drown her if he ever learned she’d done something so suicidal as give her heart over to one of his ilk. And she didn’t want to even contemplate what the goddess Apollymi would do if she learned of it.
This relationship was all kinds of impossible.
In her heart, all she could see was Urian. She wanted no future without him.
Yet she could see no future with him. At all. It just wasn’t possible and she knew it.
“We’re doomed,” she whispered. And still she couldn’t stop herself from doing it.
March 5, 9514 BC
“Urian! I wasn’t expecting you! What are you doing here?”
He barely caught himself before he exposed his fangs over his own thrill that his mother’s adoring smile caused. “It’s your birthday, Mata. You had to know that I wouldn’t miss it.”
No matter the danger.
Rising up on her toes, she hugged him tight. Urian closed his eyes and savored the one thing he’d missed most about not having her in Kalosis anymore.
His mother’s loving embrace. He’d missed it so much that he’d barely been able to wait until nightfall to seek out her cottage and visit. His eagerness had caused Xyn to even tease him.
“I can’t believe you’re here! It’s so wonderful to see you!”
He shrugged as he handed her the small basket in his hands that contained a gift from him and one Xyn had made from her scales as well. His dragon was always thoughtful that way. She took care to save every scale that she shed and put them to use.
“I only wish I could have come earlier or that I could stay longer.”
With warm blue eyes, she brushed his hair back from his face. “My precious Urimou.” She jerked her chin toward her cottage. “Why don’t—”
“Nay, Mata,” he said, quickly, stopping her before she invited him into her home and broke the one cardinal rule he insisted on for her safety. “You mustn’t.”
“You’re being silly about that.”
“I don’t want to chance it.”
“Hellen? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Memnus. It’s my son come to visit.”
Confused by the note in her voice he hadn’t heard before, Urian stepped back as an older man came outside with a lantern.
“Your son?”
Urian cursed silently as the old bearded man, who was dressed in a brown chiton and woolen cap, headed straight for them.
He froze the moment his buttery light struck Urian’s new armor that Xyn had given him, and he realized how tall and muscular Urian was. His jaw dropped. “Why … I didn’t realize your boy was a soldier.”
An amused glint hovered in his mother’s eyes. By necessity, all Apollites were. Either they learned to fight or they died. “He is, indeed. As are all my sons—like their father.”
The old man’s eyes glowed with warmth. “I know you’re proud of them.” He held his hand out in friendship. “Why, you remind me of Prince Styxx, you do. Spitting image of him, you are.”
Shaking his arm, Urian scowled. There was only one person he’d ever heard who held that moniker. “Styxx of Didymos?”
“Aye. Best military commander ever born. I served with him when I was young. Was there for his first battle at Halicarnassus. And I’ll never forget it.” Snorting, he shook his head. “He looked like nothing more than just a scrawny snot-nosed brat—and his helm was so loose upon his head it appeared it would ring like a bell in battle if it got struck. And we were all mocking him when he rode out to rally us on a horse what probably cost more than most armies did in them days. And who would have blamed us, really? A rich little prince bratling with no battle experience whatsoever. We figured we’d all be dead by nightfall by his lack of leadership experience. We thought it an insult that he was there to command us. But he showed us, he did. Never have I seen courage like what he showed them Atlanteans that day. None of us had. He had the strength and cunning of the gods themselves. The sword skill of Ares. The strength of mighty Atlas. He bowed to no one. It’s why I wear the badge of our army to this day.”
Urian arched his brow as the old man pulled the chain from around his neck to show him a medallion that held a red enameled piece. In the center was a black phoenix rising with the words “I defend” over its head.
The old man grinned proudly as he pointed to it. “That there’s the emblem for the Stygian Omada, it is.”
The piece fascinated Urian as he traced it with his finger. “Stygian Omada?”
“Aye. It’s what we were called back in the day. Achilles had his Myrmidons. Jason his Argonauts. Styxx had his Stygiai. And proud I am that I was one of them.” He pulled it from over his head and pressed it into Urian’s fist. “Here. You should take it.”
Urian was stunned by the gift. “Nay, sir. I can’t take something so precious.”
“Go on, I insist. Please. I never had a son or a grandson, and my daughters and granddaughters are tired of my old war stories, they are. Before I die, it needs to go to a warrior who will bring it honor again. His Highness would have approved of this, he would.”
Urian frowned at his words and the heartache they betrayed. “You speak as if the prince is dead.”
The old man’s eyes turned dark and sad. “Unfortunately, he is. Taken by the gods far too soon, he was.”
Urian gripped the medallion. He felt terrible for the older man. That was too sad. “I’m sorry.”
Tears swam in Memnus’s eyes. “Thank you. ’Twas a terrible day, indeed.” With a ragged sigh, he patted Urian’s arm. “But here, I’ve intruded enough. You spend time with your mother. It was nice meeting you, young Urian.”
“And you.” Urian held up the medallion. “Again, thank you. I shall treasure it!”
Smiling, he headed back to the house.
As soon as he was gone, his mother fisted Urian’s hand over the medallion. She turned a set of worried eyes toward him. “Word to the wise, my precious, keep this away from the goddess and especially your father.”