The Dragon Legion Collection

Chapter Four



When Jorge glanced over the hillside, seeking Katina and Lysander, Alexander took advantage of the Slayer’s moment of inattention to attack. He leapt at the other dragon, using his own trick against him. Alexander breathed a stream of dragonsmoke and latched it on to the Slayer’s throat, letting the smoke squeeze even as it stole power. Alexander’s dragonsmoke tightened like a noose, surprising Jorge, who stumbled backward. He slashed at Alexander then seized Theo, holding the limp boy before himself. Alexander continued to tighten the noose of dragonsmoke, even as he smelled the Slayer’s scales beginning to burn.

The Slayer faltered and clearly became weaker. Alexander breathed with greater force, thickening the line of dragonsmoke. He thought about choking the life out of this evil creature, imagined what he must have done to Cassandra, and fueled his breathing with his determination to ensure that Katina never suffered the same fate. The Slayer stumbled and began to sway, as if dizzy. The blood flowed from the wounds in his chest with greater force, and Alexander dared to hope he might win.

Then Jorge laughed. He displayed a dark dragon scale to Alexander, turning it so that it caught the light. It was the same color as Alexander’s scales. He remembered the sense of something falling when he was making love to Katina and fought the urge to raise one claw to his chest.

She’d asked him about the gap in his armor.

He’d lost the scale when he’d returned home and realized that he loved her even more than he’d believed.

And now he was vulnerable as a result.

“Look what I found when I went to collect the boy I’d bought,” Jorge crowed. “Did you lose something?” The Slayer grinned, obviously knowing the source of the scale. He deliberately snapped the scale in half.

Alexander fell to his knees at the violent stab of pain that shot through his body. He couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t think of anything beyond the excruciating pain. The line of dragonsmoke broke, because he couldn’t control it any longer.

Jorge laughed. He stepped out of the noose of dragonsmoke, then strode to Alexander. He smiled, then snapped the scale again and again, each crack escalating the pain Alexander felt. He writhed on the ground, feeling consciousness slip away.

“That will teach you to challenge me,” Jorge said, casting the pieces of scale over Alexander’s body with disdain.

Alexander closed his eyes, assessing the damage to his body and knowing the injury would kill him. He tried to close the wounds on his chest, but the blood flowed warm and thick over his hands. He knew he was losing too much blood, just as he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.

So, he had returned to his own time just to see Katina, realize they couldn’t be together, lose his son and die.

It was far, far less than what he’d hoped to achieve

“Papa!” a young boy shouted in the distance. “No!”

Alexander was consumed by pain, but that cry gave him new strength. Lysander! No, the boy couldn’t come close to Jorge!

“Stay back!” Alexander cried.

“By all means, come right to me,” the Slayer said, then his voice dropped low. He breathed steadily, exhaling a stream of dragonsmoke. Alexander saw a young boy running toward him, a young boy with Pyr blood in his veins, and knew his son would be the Slayer’s next victim. Behind Lysander was Katina.

Jorge would destroy her next.

Never! Alexander would give his all to see them safe. He knew Jorge’s tactic and knew he had little time to make a difference. He breathed dragonsmoke as quickly as he could, choking as he forced himself to loose a long unbroken stream.

Jorge’s dragonsmoke swirled high, then shot through the air toward Lysander. The boy froze, his eyes wide in terror. He could see it, proof of his nature.

In that same moment, Alexander drove his dragonsmoke plume in pursuit of Jorge’s. He used every vestige of his power to urge it on. His dragonsmoke locked around Jorge’s dragonsmoke, entwining the two streams. He made the tip on his rise up, like a snake preparing to strike, then plunged it into the tip of Jorge’s dragonsmoke.


Alexander felt Jorge’s shock, but had to make this work. “Take my strength instead,” he invited in old-speak, wishing he knew something about beguiling Slayers. “I have more than the boy.”

Jorge laughed. “You’re trying to be noble.” He said this as if it were a ridiculous trait.

“You’re just afraid I’m too strong for you,” Alexander taunted. “You’re just afraid a seasoned dragon warrior has too much power for you to tame.”

Jorge snarled. His eyes flashed, then he turned on Alexander, seizing control of the dragonsmoke with lightning speed. Alexander immediately felt the change and was shocked by the Slayer’s agility.

The conduit became Jorge’s possession, the dragonsmoke drawing energy from Alexander with unexpected hunger. The dragonsmoke felt icy cold, even as it burned his mouth and his tongue. Alexander felt it draw from his mouth, his lungs, his heart, his very soul. He was being sucked dry, while Jorge became larger and more radiant. The Slayer’s new wings arched high over his head and flapped with power. His scales gleamed. His wounds healed. His expression was jubilant.

Alexander felt the life leave his body. He felt himself shifting uncontrollably between his human and his dragon form. He knew he would die.

But if Lysander and Katina were safe, it would all be worth it.

He had one more thing to do to ensure that.

“I am recovered!” Jorge roared, when Alexander felt like an empty shell. The Slayer’s voice shook the very ground. “I am remade!”

“You should return to the future,” Alexander murmured, wishing he had the power to force the Slayer to take his advice. “Defeat Chen while your power is high.”

“What do you mean?”

“Has he drained a Pyr dry? You said there was no more Elixir. He must be weak, while you are powerful. Triumph could be yours.”

Jorge grinned. “Your thinking is sound in your last moments of life.” His eyes lit and he raged fire at the sky as he laughed and laughed.

Alexander wasn’t sure the Slayer would take his advice, and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He had to know for sure.

“Take me to Chen!” Jorge bellowed aloud.

Suddenly, there was a glitter of darkfire, like blue-green stars glittering in the distance.

A heartbeat later, Jorge was gone.

Alexander closed his eyes, praying Katina would forgive him for abandoning her again, as all turned to black.



* * *



The yellow dragon disappeared so abruptly that Katina feared her eyes were deceiving her. “Is he gone?” she asked Lysander, who took a deep breath.

“I can’t smell him anymore. I don’t see him either.” Her son scampered closer, pausing to bend over a fallen figure. “Poor Theo. Will he get better, Mama?”

The other boy was unconscious on the ground, but Katina was relieved to find that he was breathing. He looked to be exhausted, and there was a burn mark on his chest. “I hope so,” she said to Lysander. She picked Theo up in her arms and was shocked by how light he was, like an empty shell of a boy. It was easy to carry him toward Alexander and Pelias.

Alexander, in contrast, didn’t move at all, and Katina wasn’t even sure he was breathing. “Do you think you can help your father?” she asked. “I don’t know if I can, but we have to try. Maybe you can tell me what to do.”

Lysander led her toward her fallen husband but stopped abruptly to stare. “There’s another silver thread!”

“Where?” Katina asked.

Her son pointed. She saw then that Pelias was breathing slowly and deeply. Lysander traced a path in the air that led from Pelias to the wounds in Alexander’s chest.

As she watched, the anguish passed out of Alexander’s expression.

Before her eyes, his bleeding stopped and his wounds began to close.

Katina was incredulous. What was this silver thread and how did it work?

She went to Alexander’s side and fell to her knees beside him. The truth was indisputable—he looked much healthier. Pelias, meanwhile, looked worse. She looked between the two warriors, astonished by her realization.

“The silver thread came from Pelias?” she asked her son, who nodded.

Another Pyr.

Pelias’ eyelids fluttered and he tried to smile at the sight of Lysander. “Your father will train you now.”

Lysander sank to his knees beside the warrior. “But what was the silver thread, Pelias?”

“Dragonsmoke.” The old warrior licked his lips and swallowed. “We can use it to steal life force from another.”

“Or to give it,” Katina guessed, understanding what Pelias had done.

“Why didn’t you fight him in dragon form?” Lysander asked.

Pelias smiled wanly. “I learned young to hide my powers,” he said. “And now, I cannot do shift when distressed.” He looked at Lysander. “Shift often so you can do so when you must. Much may ride upon it.”

“I will, Pelias.”

The older man nodded satisfaction. His breathing became more labored and Katina didn’t think he looked well at all. He flicked her a look that was filled with understanding, his gaze lingering on Theo. He nodded slightly as if to reassure her. “I needed to see Alexander return,” he whispered. “I knew he would, but I wanted to see it.

“What can I do to help you?” she asked, sinking to her knees beside him and setting Theo down gently. “Water? I have no salve for burns with me...”

“There is nothing to be done for me, Katina. You, with your healer’s eyes, know the truth as well as I do.”

“I am no healer.”

“But you will be. You should be.”

Katina averted her gaze. “You know.”

“I have seen more than most in my days on this earth,” he said quietly. “Tell him. Embrace what you are, and together, you will change the world.”

Katina took his hand in hers and squeezed his fingers, wishing she could heal him.

Pelias shook his head, as if he guessed her thoughts. “I will give all I have to Alexander, without regret.” Katina’s heart clenched at the sight of his burns. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m an old soldier with a past but no future.”

“You’d rather die in battle,” Katina guessed.

“And so I shall, but I will make every last breath count.” Pelias nodded, the gesture clearly causing him pain. He moved a finger toward Lysander in summons, then indicated something broken on the ground.

“The scale he broke,” Lysander said, picking up one piece.

Katina saw that it was the same color as Alexander’s scales.

Pelias nodded. “Find all the shards and keep them safe.”

“Until when?”

“You will know.”

Lysander quickly did as he was bidden. He crouched beside Pelias and assembled the broken pieces, scanning the ground to hunt for every last bit of the scale. When he’d found them all, he looked at the older man.

Pelias watched him with pride. “Good. It is done.”

Katina watched as Pelias took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly and steadily. She could feel the force of his will, even though she couldn’t see the dragonsmoke. She took his hand, knowing there was more than one way to share energy.

Pelias breathed steadily and Katina saw Alexander begin to stir in his sleep. Beside her, Lysander watched the older man with wide eyes. There was a faint shimmer of blue around Pelias, a glow that brightened steadily and grew to make an uninterrupted outline of his supine figure. When the glow enclosed him totally, he exhaled with one last great breath.


The blue light faded.

Pelias didn’t inhale again.

Katina fought her tears. She reached out and smoothed the strain from the older man’s features, then murmured a prayer. Lysander looked between her and Pelias, his expression stricken.

“It was a noble gift Pelias gave,” Katina managed to say. “An honorable sacrifice.”

Before she could say more, Alexander cleared his throat. Katina watched in amazement as he opened his eyes. He managed to brace himself on his elbows, seeming disoriented. His gaze danced to Katina and lit with joy. He looked at Theo and appeared to be cautiously relieved. When he saw Lysander, his delight was clear.

Whatever he might have said died on his lips, because his gaze fell upon Pelias. Alexander gave a cry and stumbled to kneel beside the older soldier, checking his breath and his heart.

“It’s too late. He gave his last to you,” Katina said, tears in her eyes. “With his dragonsmoke.”

Katina had never seen Alexander lose his composure, but he lost it in this moment. He gasped in anguish and his tears fell. He bowed over the fallen soldier and touched his forehead to Pelias’ chest, weeping silently. Katina held Lysander’s hand tightly. She knew that Alexander was overwhelmed, for otherwise he would have remained stoic.

Or maybe the fact that she knew his secret meant he could share all of his emotions with her. If he didn’t feel he had to hide behind impassivity to protect his secret, then they could be as one all the time. Their marriage could be potent and passionate.

“He should never have done it,” Alexander murmured. “He could have been healed. He could have lived.”

“No,” Katina corrected gently. “His wounds were too great. He would never have healed.” She reached out and touched her husband’s hand. “He chose, Alexander, and he didn’t regret it.”

Alexander’s mouth worked in silence as he fought for composure. He bent and kissed the older man’s cheeks, his last tears falling as he did so. Then he pushed to his feet and walked a short distance, his hands running over the closed wounds on his chest as if he couldn’t believe his own state either.

He turned to look at his fallen mentor again. “I would have talked to him again,” he said softly. “I would have told him what I have seen.”

“He said he was content to have seen you returned,” Lysander said. “He said he knew you would return. How did he know that?”

Alexander looked at his son. “I don’t know.”

“Because your father gave his word,” Katina said, rising to her feet. “And a man of honor always keeps his word. I’m sorry, Alexander, that I doubted you would come back to me.”

He looked at her then, his anguish and his love mingled in his gaze, and once again, Katina had the sense that she could see straight to his heart. She might have stood there forever, simply basking in the warmth of his regard, but she knew they couldn’t linger.

“I meant to die for both of you,” Alexander admitted. “I meant to give my life to see you safe from Jorge. It would have been an honorable deed.”

“You nearly did, but Pelias gave his for you instead.”

“Is the yellow dragon gone, Papa?”

Alexander frowned. “Did you see blue-green light when he disappeared?

Lysander nodded.

“Then the darkfire has cast him back.” Alexander inhaled deeply, narrowing his eyes as if he assessed the scent with care. “I believe he may be gone.”

Katina remembered his sense that the Slayer could hide and reveal his scent, and knew he wasn’t positive. He was being protective, shielding her from his doubts. “Lysander said the yellow dragon had a plan to capture all the sons of the soldiers in your company.”

“Yes,” Alexander said, recovering himself. He looked hard at their son. “You heard that?”

Lysander nodded proudly. Katina noticed that the pieces of scale had disappeared from the ground and knew that her son had put them safely away. They must be in the small pouch he kept tied to his belt for carrying treasures. “Mama heard only thunder.”

“That’s old-speak that you heard,” Alexander explained. “It’s too deep for any other than our own kind to hear, and we can hear it at a great distance. There are those who can whisper old-speak into the thoughts of others, so that it mingles with their thoughts.”

“So I am Pyr?”

Alexander smiled. “You are the son of a Pyr, Lysander. There never was any doubt.”

“Pelias said he was going to watch me.”

“As he watched me. But now that you have heard old-speak and seen dragonsmoke, our path is clear.” He nodded at Katina. “We go to Delphi, for your training will be there.”

And to ask the counsel of the Pythia. Katina hoped with all her heart that Alexander would be allowed to stay.

“What training?” Lysander asked. “I thought I was going to the agoge.”

Alexander smiled. “I’ll explain it all to you on the way.”

“Will we fly?” Lysander demanded with enthusiasm, but Katina saw the weariness in Alexander’s expression.

“Your father has just fought a battle and nearly died defending you,” she chided gently. “We can walk while he recovers his strength.”

Lysander nodded agreement to this, his excitement at being in his father’s presence clear.

“Don’t ask too many questions just yet,” Katina said. “Let your father catch his breath.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“You should take Pelias’ armor and his cloak,” she told Alexander. “Your clothing is too strange, and it would be best if we drew less attention.”

Alexander frowned as he considered the older man. “I can’t leave him here, not like this.”

That hadn’t been Katina’s intention. “Of course not. How do you honor the dead of your kind?”

Alexander glanced up in surprise. “Pelias was not Pyr.”

“Then how did he breathe dragonsmoke? And why did he glimmer blue just before he died, exactly as you do before you change shape?”

Alexander stared at his old mentor, clearly shaken by the idea. “He always insisted otherwise,” he said. “He always said he simply watched for the signs, but you’re right. He couldn’t have done that otherwise.” His voice dropped in awe, becoming almost a whisper. “I thought I could smell his nature, but he told me I was wrong.”

“How could you be wrong about his scent?” Lysander demanded.

Alexander smiled. “I believed my mentor, instead of my nose.”

“Didn’t you ever see him as a dragon?” Lysander asked and Alexander shook his head.

“Nor did he ever see me as one. He always encouraged discretion, but I didn’t realize how much he showed himself.” Alexander frowned, then turned to Lysander. “When the power comes to you, you must learn to manage it. They will teach you how at Delphi, but you must treat it as a secret. You must not show many people or tell them of it. You must trust your instincts, then hone them.”

“Because then I will know my fellow Pyr by their scent.”

Alexander nodded and took the boy’s hand. “Come here and draw deeply of this scent. That yellow dragon was a Slayer, the most evil of our kind. Learn the smell of them, that you might be warned of their presence.”

Lysander did as he was instructed, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. The sight of Alexander teaching his son, something Katina feared she would never see, brought tears to her eyes. She bent to remove Pelias’ helmet and his greaves, blinking back her tears.


“You’re upset,” Alexander said suddenly from beside her. His hand was warm on her elbow and there was a lump in her throat when she met his gaze. Lysander was still breathing and memorizing the Slayer’s scent.

“I liked Pelias, though I didn’t know him well.”

“That’s not all of it.”

She forced a smile. “You’re so good with Lysander. I’m just glad to see you together.”

“I’m sure he had no lack in your care.”

“I sometimes lose patience with all his questions.”

“I shouldn’t have left you to raise him alone.”

She eyed him, hearing what he didn’t say.

Alexander frowned and stepped away, once again putting an invisible barrier between them. “We expose our dead to the four elements, so that their bodies can’t be violated,” he said to Lysander, his tone practical.

Katina remembered that the Pyr were the defenders of the four elements.

“There is air and earth here,” Lysander said.

“And there will be fire,” Alexander said quietly. “I think you won’t want to watch.”

The boy’s eyes widened in understanding for an instant. “But what about water?”

Alexander winced. He surveyed the arid land that spread in all directions from the rocky hill where they stood. He tipped his head back to consider the sky, which was devoid of clouds.

Katina finally understood why she had been granted the gift she had.

It was time for her to share her secret with Alexander.

“I will give you water,” she said with quiet confidence. Alexander turned to her with open surprise but she smiled. “You’re not the only one with a secret, husband,” she said, then lifted her hands to the sky.



* * *



Alexander was incredulous.

He watched as Katina lifted her hands over her head and closed her eyes. She was as graceful and elegant as ever, but to his amazement, her figure began to ripple. He thought his eyes deceived him, but the rippling grew more emphatic. She was murmuring some chant that sounded like the dancing of a brook over stones and with every passing moment, her figure looked more fluid.

More silvery.

More ethereal.

Her hair seemed to flow around her body like a dark river, one that ran far past her hips. As he watched, her form became disguised by a column of water, a pillar that bubbled at its top and stretched toward the sky. Or had she become the water? Alexander couldn’t tell, but he saw the water pooling on the ground where Katina’s feet had been. It ran over the dry soil. He heard the distant rumble of thunder and watched dark clouds conjure themselves from the clear sky. They rolled closer with remarkable speed, converging from every direction in a way that wasn’t natural at all. The storm clouds collided overhead, tumbling into each other where the pillar of water reached into the sky.

There was a crack of lightning and the first drops of rain fell.

Alexander quickly bent to strip Pelias of his armor and set it aside. He lifted Theo gently and nestled him in Pelias’ red cloak, the signature garment of the Spartans. He would take care of Drake’s son with as much care as his own, and was glad that the boy just seemed weakened. Alexander indicated that Lysander should stay with Theo, then summoned the change.

He was well aware of his son watching him closely, of his wife making it possible for him to do right by his mentor, and his heart filled to bursting with the gifts he had been given. He ached with the loss of Pelias, but already he came to respect that man’s choice. He understood it, because he would have made the same one. He was honored by it, because he’d never expected it. He was glad his son had witnessed this powerful lesson. Meanwhile, the change rolled through Alexander’s body, firing through every muscle and tendon, making him feel powerful and invincible.

This was the gift of Pelias. Just moments ago, he’d been at death’s door, and now he was healed. He tipped back his head and uttered a prayer of gratitude. As he turned the first breath of his dragonfire on the fallen warrior, Alexander admitted that he would be proud to pass from this world in the same way.

Alexander would never forget this legacy.

And he would serve Pelias’ memory with honor for all his days.



* * *



Lysander was enthralled with his new adventure. It had been exciting enough to leave Cetos’ house to go with Pelias for the agoge, but even better to learn that he would be like his father. He was fascinated by the Pyr’s powers.

He was surprised by his mother’s abilities, too, but becoming a pillar of water and attracting rain wasn’t nearly as interesting as turning into a dragon at will. Lysander hadn’t had the chance to choose, but he would have chosen the very power that he hoped he’d get.

And now, he’d have a new friend, too. Theo looked very ill, but Lysander knew that the other boy would get better and would be his best friend in the world. They’d grow up and be Pyr warriors together, fighting back-to-back like their fathers, defending the four elements and the treasure of the earth. Unlike the Slayers, they would defend the human race as one of those treasures. He wanted to know everything about being Pyr, the sooner the better. He was going to be the best Pyr ever. He’d make his father proud and kill evil Slayers wherever he went.

Lysander used his keen senses to keep watch while his father honored Pelias. He tried to smell for evil Slayers. He stood in the rain and guarded Pelias’ armor, watching his father and staying close to Theo.

When his father was done, the rain stopped. His father shifted to human form and knelt with his head bowed. The wind stirred and the ashes of Lysander were blown away, even as his mother stepped past Lysander and put her hand on his father’s shoulder.

His father reached up and gripped her hand, as if he were relying upon her. Lysander watched, knowing he’d never seen Cetos and his mother like this. His two parents stood as if they were one. Was that because they both could change shape? Lysander decided that when he had a wife, he and she would stand together like this sometimes. It was like Pyr warriors fighting back-to-back, in a way.

“I never knew,” his father said softly.

His mother almost smiled. “I think you can imagine why I didn’t tell you.”

His father glanced up. “And the stories that were told about you?”

His mother nodded, then turned to look north. She had the expression she got when she was deciding what would happen next. “At least four days walk to Delphi from here, I’d say.” She picked up Pelias’ bag and checked the food and water within it. Then she handed it to Lysander. “Will you carry our supplies?”

Lysander was glad to have a job.

His father smiled at him. He changed his clothing, putting on the hoplite armor as if he did as much every day, then flung Pelias’ red cloak over his shoulders. He picked up Theo and held the limp boy against his side. Theo sighed and settled against him, as if glad to be there. Lysander’s father nodded at him, then offered one hand to his mother. “Maybe tomorrow, I’ll have the strength to give you all a ride.”

A dragon flight! Lysander had always wished his real father had been around, and now he knew that having his father back was just the beginning of the greatest adventure he could imagine. He carried the pack and tried to remember his mother’s instruction to not ask too many questions. It might just kill him to keep silent, but he’d try.

He decided to consider it a lesson in discipline.


That’s what Pelias would have said.



* * *



Katina knew that Lysander’s curiosity could barely be contained. She watched their son and knew he was bursting with questions. He might even try Alexander’s patience.

They walked down the hill as the sun rose and reached a good road by the dawn. Alexander didn’t want to stop, so Katina gave them each some of bread and water from Pelias’ pack. Their pace slowed a bit as they walked and ate. Theo stirred and took a little water. He was sleepy, as if he’d survived an ordeal, and Katina suspected he had.

“They’ll help him at Delphi,” Alexander insisted, and she believed him.

Katina offered more bread to Alexander. He might have declined but she urged it upon him. “You’re the one healing from a battle. Don’t fight me.”

“She’s like that when she decides,” Lysander informed him solemnly. “You should just take it.”

Alexander smothered a smile, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at Katina. “And do you always just do as you’re told?”

“Mostly,” Lysander admitted with a flush.

Alexander laughed, then sobered. “When you train, you’ll have to do better than that. You must always obey, for the safety of your fellows can rely upon it.”

Lysander nodded solemnly.

Katina found herself watching Alexander. He walked with an easy grace, eating slowly and surveying the surrounding hills. She had no doubt he was using his keen senses to ensure their safety and she doubted he’d sleep before they reached Delphi.

She wanted him more than ever before. She wanted to kiss him, to run her hands over his chest to ensure that he was truly healed. She wanted to make love with him over and over again, to reassure herself that they had survived that encounter. She was aware of the heat in his gaze when he glanced at her, and it made her thoughts turn in a very earthy direction.

She couldn’t remember when they had ever done it just once.

On the other hand, she felt shy after revealing her secret to him. She’d never shown anyone what she could do without experiencing unpleasant repercussions. She both wanted to know what Alexander thought and was afraid to hear it.

“Why Delphi, Papa?” Lysander asked when his curiosity overwhelmed him. Katina was impressed that he’d contained himself as long as he had.

“Can’t you guess?”

Lysander shook his head, and Katina couldn’t help but notice the sidelong glance he cast at his father. She saw the adoration in their son’s eyes and was gladdened by it.

“Then let’s figure it out,” Alexander said. He didn’t speak down to Lysander but addressed him as he spoke to all adults. “Whose shrine is at Delphi?”

“Apollo’s.”

“Do you know the story of Apollo’s link to Delphi?” Alexander spoke as if it were a story not known by many. Lysander shook his head. “Then let me tell you.”

Katina was surprised. She had never known Alexander to be talkative, and she certainly had never heard him tell a story. He was trying to be a good father and the realization warmed her heart.

They walked for a few moments while Alexander chose his words. “In the beginning, there was only Chaos, and not a soul in the universe. First to form in this realm was Gaia, or mother earth. She is the root and origin of all we know and most sacred of all divine beings. Next born was Eros, the god of love and desire, and when he touched Gaia, she felt the yearning for a husband.” Katina couldn’t look at Alexander when he said that, because she was feeling a similar yearning. “She created Uranos who lies over her as the sky envelopes the earth. His cloak is of black velvet and adorned with stars. Gaia also created the mountains and the seas. From her union   with Uranos were born the twelve Titans.”

Katina was thinking about having twelve sons—and how much lovemaking it would take to conceive them all. She tingled at the possibilities.

“The grandson of Gaia was Zeus. He was the youngest son of her son Cronos and the only one who survived his father’s wrath.”

“And father of all the gods on Mount Olympus.”

“Yes. It’s said that Zeus wanted to find the center of the earth, to identify the most sacred place to worship Gaia. He loosed two eagles, commanding them to fly around the earth in opposite directions. Where their paths crossed would be that sacred place. Where do you think they crossed?”

Lysander shook his head.

“It was at Delphi. And so the main shrine to Gaia was established there and guarded by a fierce dragon called Pytho.”

“Was he Pyr?”

“No, because he couldn’t change shape.”

“Is he still there?”

“No. That’s what brought Apollo to Delphi. You see, there was a beautiful woman named Leto. She was a Titan, the grand-daughter of Gaia, and renowned for her beauty and gentle manners. As you might expect, the gaze of Zeus fell upon her and he desired her. He seduced Leto and she conceived twins by him.”

“Apollo and Artemis,” Lysander said, interrupting his father in his enthusiasm. “I remember this story!”

“Do you remember what happened when it came time for the twins to be born?” At the boy’s frown, Alexander continued. “Hera, the wife of Zeus, punished Leto by rousing Pytho. At Hera’s command, Pytho chased Leto so that she couldn’t find anywhere to rest and bear her children. Eventually she found refuge on the island of Delos, for Pytho couldn’t swim. She delivered Apollo and Artemis there.”

“There’s a shrine to Apollo at the island of Delos,” Lysander said.

“There is,” Alexander acknowledged with a smile. “Apollo, as you might imagine, wasn’t inclined to forget his mother’s ordeal. While still a boy, he hunted down Pytho and found him guarding the sanctuary of Gaia at Delphi. Apollo killed Pytho with the first arrow he ever shot. The dragon fell into a crack of the earth, as if gathered to his mistress’s bosom, and died.”

“Good for Apollo!” Lysander declared with enthusiasm.

“Not so good as that,” Alexander corrected, his tone so stern that it caught Katina’s attention.

“But he was avenging a crime.”

“But he did it in the wrong way.” Alexander flicked a look at Katina that seemed portentous. “Apollo violated the sanctuary and home of Pytho, so he had to be punished for his transgression.”

Katina understood then the root of Alexander’s fear. He saw his attack upon Cetos as a violation and wasn’t sure how he would be punished. Her mouth went dry.

“How was he punished?”

“He was doomed to travel for eight years, doing service to mankind.”

Eight years. Alexander had been gone eight years. His first duty had been served. Did he fear he’d be assigned another similar term for his transgression?

Katina had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Alexander had only just returned. She couldn’t imagine losing him for another eight years so soon. She knew he would do his duty. She straightened, knowing that this time, she would wait for him, confident of his return.

She gave him an intent look and caught a glimpse of his surprise. Then he continued his story. “When Apollo returned to Delphi at the end of his service, he established the Oracle called the Pythia.”

“Why?”

“In his travels, Apollo persuaded Pan to reveal the art of prophecy to him. Upon his return, Apollo recognized that the fumes rising from the cracks in the earth at Delphi could induce visions in a person of purity. It was said that these fumes rose through the fissures in the earth that abound in that area and that they came from the decaying corpse of Pytho.”


Lysander shuddered and made a face. “I wouldn’t want to smell that.”

“It smells mostly of herbs and fire to visitors.”

“Barley and laurel leaves,” Katina contributed. “That’s what they burn on the sacred hearth.”

Alexander nodded. “Remember that Apollo saw the fumes as a gift of Gaia to mankind. Only the Pythia herself is engulfed in the fumes.”

“Who’s the Pythia?”

Alexander indicated Katina and she replied.

“The Pythia is the oracle of Apollo. A woman gives her life in service to the shrine, keeping herself pure so that she can hear the prophecies clearly.”

“The Pythia sits on a tripod perched over the crack in the sanctuary of the temple and speaks of her visions,” Alexander added.

Lysander looked between his parents with awe. “You’ve been there.”

“Of course.” Alexander cast Katina a quick smile that warmed her to her toes. “I met your mother in that same sanctuary in Delphi.”

Their son’s confusion was clear.

“I was taken as an offering to the Korykian Cave of the Nymphs by my parents,” Katina explained.

“Why would they do that?”

“Probably because of what we just saw,” Alexander said, his gaze lingering upon Katina. He seemed to be admiring, which made her feel more confident of his reaction.

She continued speaking to Lysander. “They didn’t know what to make of my gift, except surrender me to the gods. There are stories in our family of others like me, although we are said to be born only every seventh generation. My grandfather called me a Waterdaughter and said our family had been touched once by the divine. A naiad once fell in love with one of our ancestors, and then chose to be mortal to remain with him.”

“What else can you do?” Lysander asked.

“I can call the rain, or summon fresh water from a well gone dry. It is said that we can heal and give prophecies, too, which is what I’d hoped to learn.”

“Did you?”

Katina shook her head. “No, because they wouldn’t accept me as an offering. My parents were confused as to what to do, so they took me to Delphi to ask the Pythia about my fate. They paid for a prophecy.”

“Your future lies in fire and earth; the world’s in the son you birth,” Alexander said quietly.

“Is that the prophecy?” At Katina’s nod, Lysander frowned. “What does it mean?”

“Well, it meant your mother couldn’t serve in a shrine, because to fulfill the prophecy she had to have a son.” Once again, Alexander gave Katina a simmering glance. Were their thoughts as one? “Women who serve must remain untouched by men, all their lives.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I met your father when the Pythia gave her prophecy, for he was serving in the sanctuary. And, in that moment, it seemed my destiny was clear.” Katina caught her breath in recollection of the first spark of the firestorm, the flame that had seemed to ignite her very soul.

That was when she knew she had to feel Alexander’s heat within her again, at least one more time.

Lysander, fortunately, didn’t seem to notice the way his parents were looking at each other. “Is that prophecy about me?”

Katina smiled. “I don’t have another son.”

His delight was clear, then he turned to his father. “But why were you there?”

“Pelias saw that I was Pyr and took me to Delphi,” Alexander said. “We Pyr are said to be the spark cast by Apollo’s killing of Pytho, so we serve at his shrine.”

Katina watched their son consider this. “Is that why you’re taking me to Delphi?”

Alexander smiled and put his hand on his son’s head. “Yes. You will serve in the sanctuary, just as I did, and you will be taught how to manage your abilities as they develop.” He flicked the quickest glance at Katina before he continued. “One day, you may be summoned to serve mankind for eight years. If that occurs, you will go.”

“Why?”

“Because you will swear to it when you pledge yourself to Apollo and Gaia.” Alexander paused for a moment, as if debating the merit of saying more. Katina was glad when he did. “There are three pieces of wisdom engraved on the walls at Delphi, Lysander, and they are words that will stand you in good stead if you remember them.”

“I will remember them.”

“The first is ‘Know Thyself.’ At Delphi, you will be trained to know your abilities.” Katina considered how much she had to learn about her own abilities. Would that quest take her away from Alexander? She hoped not.

Lysander nodded.

“The second is ‘Nothing in Excess,’ a maxim I learned well myself long before I came to Delphi. Doing that will ensure that you use your powers well.” He fell silent then, despite the boy’s inquisitive looks.

“And the third?” Katina prompted.

Alexander met her gaze steadily. “‘Make a pledge and mischief is nigh.’”

Katina frowned, thinking of all the pledges each of them had made. She eased closer to Alexander and dropped her voice. “You don’t want to be called to serve, because of your transgression.”

Alexander nodded and took her hand, his thumb sliding across her skin in a smooth caress. “Cetos is dead,” he said softly. “Jorge killed him.”

Katina bit her lip, glad that Cetos was out of pain, and out of her life. She felt that strange sense of freedom and optimism again. “It’s been said that any man who covets a naiad will die childless of a broken heart.”

“Is that why your parents didn’t support our marriage?”

Katina winced. “I think they liked you. They feared for your future.”

Alexander’s gaze trailed after Lysander, who was marching ahead of them. Theo had gone back to sleep again. “They didn’t know that I wasn’t a man.”

Katina met Alexander’s gaze, her heart pounding. “No. But I don’t think you were to blame for Cetos’ death.”

Alexander didn’t appear to be convinced. “It depends. It could have been my fault that Jorge came to your home. I certainly had no right to possess Cetos’ wife.” Katina might have argued but Alexander raised a finger. “I have to ask the Pythia. I won’t make another pledge to you until I’m sure I can keep it.” Alexander caught her hand in his and kissed her fingertips.

But Katina would have more than that salute from him before they reached Delphi, if only to have a night to remember.