Her feelings toward him were a jumbled mess, however. She wanted him near. She’d felt safe and happy during the brief moments they’d spent alone beside the fire. She could have stayed there with him like that for hours, just enjoying the warmth of his body. But he had made it clear that he returned her feelings, and she knew that they could not be romantic together. That would be the worst thing she could imagine for him… and her.
Thermiandra eventually caved to the temptation of the bath. Two of the men stationed at her door left and returned a few minutes later with enormous clay pots filled with steaming hot water. They dumped it into the tub, and then repeated the trip a few more times until it was full. She asked for a fresh peplos, which they provided, and then she closed the door so she could wash away the filth.
She relaxed in the tub while she washed her hair and scrubbed the grime of the road from her body. She stepped out refreshed, then donned the new white peplos. Her old one had been white, but it was now so dirty that it was more of a brown color. She then began to style her hair. Her initial thoughts were to make it look as luxurious as possible, but then she reminded herself that she was being held here against her will, so she instead pulled it all back and left it tied behind her head.
There was a rap at the door. Before she could respond, Syrpax stepped in. Anger rose within her, but so did fear. She briefly wondered if she could somehow channel the same magic she had earlier and turn him to stone. Given the fact that she didn’t feel the magic building within her, she didn’t think that it was something she could do again, at least not consciously.
“I trust you are comfortable,” Syrpax said politely.
“I don’t like being held here. You must release me,” Thermiandra said.
“I’m simply offering you my hospitality, and my protection,” Syrpax said calmly.
“I don’t need your protection!” she said defiantly.
“I apologize if my methods seem a bit harsh, but I’m only looking out for your best interests.”
“I think I know my own best interests,” Thermiandra stated.
“It’s a shame you see it that way. When last I saw you, you were barely more than a girl. You have grown a great deal since then. You’ve become a very beautiful woman.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” said Thermiandra, “but you said yourself that I’m no longer a young girl. I can make decisions about my own future, and who I choose to travel with.”
“The messenger I spoke with thought otherwise.”
“And was that messenger sent by my father, or from Cyme’s Persian administrator?”
“Does it truly matter?” Syrpax asked.
“It matters a great deal,” Thermiandra replied. “The administrator Khejani is dead.” Thermiandra considered not elaborating, but decided that giving him a small piece of information might loosen his tongue. “He followed me for days after I left the palace, and when he found me, he tried to force me to give him something I don’t possess.”
“What was he looking for?” Syrpax asked.
“Something called the Pearls of Atlantis.”
She studied his expression as she revealed this to him. He cocked his head and fixed her with a suddenly interested gaze. “Do you know what he was talking about?”
“I do,” he replied. “But why would he try to get them from you?”
“What are they, and where would they be?”
“I’m sure that he was misinformed. You could not possibly have the Pearls of Atlantis.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because they’ve been here in Ephesos for months.”
“So you have them?”
“No,” he replied. “But I know where to find them.”
“Where?” she asked. “And what’s so special about them?”
“The Pearls of Atlantis are items of great power, capable of decimating armies in an instant, or crumbling a palace to its foundations. Every wizard seeks them. Whoever possesses the Pearls has the means to reshape this land in practically any way they wish.”
“So who has them?” Thermiandra asked.
“A cultist. His name is Archetus. But I have a plan in motion, and I’ll have them soon. If it is your desire, I would share them with you,” Syrpax purred. “My interest is not only to protect you, but I would take you as my queen.”
“I thought you were married,” Thermiandra said in confusion.
“Indeed, but my wife died of fever two years ago. I’ve looked for another woman, but I’ve not laid eyes on anyone who has caught my eye in some time… until today.”
And so the real reason for my abduction becomes apparent, Thermiandra thought. “I’m sorry, my King, but I have already promised myself to the gods. I can take no husband.”
Syrpax cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “I offer you co-rulership of this great polis, and the power to eliminate Alexander’s army before he can take control. You’re angry right now, but in time you will come to enjoy my company. Give it some thought.”
“And if I do and still say no?” Thermiandra asked.
Syrpax smiled menacingly. “I doubt it will come to that. But, as a token of my goodwill, I give you a gift.”
“And that would be…? Thermiandra asked.
“I’ll have the guards leave and give you permission to move about the palace without interference.”
“But not to leave.”
“Unfortunately no, I cannot allow that.”
“Then I’m still just as much a prisoner. I think I’ll remain here,” Thermiandra said.
“As you wish,” Syrpax said. He then inclined his head toward her and left the room. Thermiandra could hear him dismissing the guards outside the door, but she knew that their absence wouldn’t make escape any easier.
Night had fallen, and as Heliodas had suspected, finding leads to Archetus proved easy enough. After asking for Archetus by name and mentioning Titan worship, he was soon pointed to some of the taverns the man frequented. Heliodas and Pelephon walked into the third establishment of the night and offered a few coins to the barkeep.
“What will you have?” The barkeep was thin and well muscled, with a gray beard that fell to his chest, and straggly hair that fell limply to his shoulders. The top of his head was bald, and his face was etched with the lines of middle age.
“Information,” Heliodas replied.
“Yeah?”
“I was told that the guy I’m looking for is a regular here. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Archetus.”
“Yeah, I see him here often. He likes his wine, and he’s always trying to talk to people. Not everybody appreciates it,” the barkeep said. “Is he in some kind of trouble?”
“I’m curious – has the polis watch come here looking for him?”
The barkeep gave Heliodas a quizzical look. “I’m guessing from your pretty bronze armor and your Athenian accent that you’re not with the polis watch.”
“I’m not,” Heliodas said.
“We have an understanding with the Watch. King Syrpax isn’t the only one in this polis who holds power, and the Watch knows it. They don’t come around here asking questions. They’ve found in the past that it’s not very healthy for them.”
“I’m not with the Watch, but I do need to talk to Archetus. Is he here tonight?”
“No, I haven’t seen him yet.”
“What does he look like?”
“Oh, he’s hard to miss. He’s a big, paunchy, bearded Egyptian. He usually wears a brown robe.”
“Do you have any idea where I might be able to find him tonight?”
“Stick around,” said the barkeep. “He’ll probably show up.
“Thank you. Give me two glasses of wine,” Heliodas said.
The barkeep nodded and filled two glasses with a deep red wine. “A word of advice - he’s more trouble than you probably realize. I’d be careful.”
“Understood,” said Heliodas as he walked away fr
om the bar and sat down at the table where Pelephon sat.
“Did you learn anything?”
“Only that he’s a big Egyptian, and that he comes here often,” Heliodas said.
“So we just wait?” the Macedonian asked.
“I can think of no better way of finding him right now.”
“Very well,” said Pelephon as he took a sip of wine.
The pair waited, making quiet conversation as they watched the patrons around them. The days spent on horseback and the stress of losing Thermiandra were catching up to Heliodas. The wine was flavorful, and it took little time for the alcohol to affect him. Tonight, it was simply making him sleepy.
This wasn’t the largest tavern they’d been to, but it did appear to be friendly. The patrons were laughing and talking among themselves, enjoying their alcohol and one another’s company. Heliodas saw an attractive woman about his age wearing skimpy clothing bouncing from table to table as she brought the patrons drinks.
He watched sleepily as she giggled when one of the men playfully swatted her on the butt. Heliodas briefly wondered if she was the daughter of the barkeep, or if she was hired help. Serving wenches were always careful not to offend the male patrons while keeping themselves safely unavailable to them.
They waited for what seemed like hours, but eventually a man matching the description provided by the barkeep appeared. He walked into the tavern, ordered a drink at the bar, and then found a dark seat in the back corner. Heliodas noted that his skin was dusky, his hair was black and wavy, and he had a bushy beard that hung to the middle of his chest. Heliodas called the serving woman to his table and asked, “Could you tell me the name of that man sitting in the corner?”
The woman offered him a broad smile. “That’s Archetus, the Egyptian. We see him here quite often.”
“Thank you,” said Heliodas. “I need to have a word with him, but could you do me a favor and bring my friend and I more wine?”
“I’ll be right back with that,” she said and bounced back toward the bar.
“That’s him,” Heliodas said, looking at the Egyptian. “I’m not sure I like this though.”
“I don’t think we have many options if we want to get Thermiandra back,” Pelephon said.
“Let’s go talk to him,” Heliodas said, rising to his feet.
They walked over to the table where Archetus sat, and Heliodas quickly made introductions. “We need to talk to you,” he said.
Archetus offered them a wide smile. “Sit, my friends. I’ve been waiting here for your arrival for some time!”
Heliodas gave Pelephon a confused look, then the pair sat at the table. “How is that possible?”
“Forgive me,” said Archetus, “I sometimes forget that most people are used to perceiving events in a linear fashion.”
Heliodas gave the Egyptian an uncomprehending look.
“You’re here to bring me in to King Syrpax, correct?”
Heliodas nodded. “I have to bring you in. I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“Ah, but you do have a choice,” said Archetus. “There are always choices. There are new branches forming all the time, creating new realities. The problem is that our mortal existence only allows us to explore one reality at a time.”
“Alright,” said Heliodas. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, so let’s start with the basics. I was told that you’re a Titan worshiper. Is that much at least true?”
“No,” Archetus replied. “I don’t worship the Titans, but I do have a relationship with them.”
“A relationship?”
“Heliodas, this man is insane,” said Pelephon. “I suggest that we stop wasting time and bring him to Syrpax.”
“Alright, try to understand how the flow of magic works,” Archetus said excitedly.
Heliodas noticed that the man’s eyes were wide, reminding him of childlike glee. In all likelihood Archetus was quite insane, yet he was interested in hearing where the madness led. “Go on,” he said.
“The most common way most people experience magic is through the priests. Those priests devote themselves to the gods their entire lives. The power of belief feeds the gods, giving them the sustenance they need to not only survive, but grow more powerful. The priests also draw in others, allowing them to grow more powerful. As a form of thanks, and to motivate priests to remain faithful, they return a certain amount of power to their priests in the form of magic, which the priests can channel into certain effects. That’s the reason that priests are able to heal other people and save them from death.”
“So what does this have to do with the Titans?” Heliodas asked.
“Nobody worships the Titans,” said Archetus. “The Titans don’t gain power through belief in the same way the gods do. Let me start at the beginning! We all know that the first powers that existed were the Titans. The Titans gave birth to the gods, but were later defeated by their children. The tales are simplified and made to fit the manner in which our limited minds can comprehend. The truth of the matter is that the gods and Titans were nothing alike. The gods were almost human in their appearance and behavior while the Titans were massive forces of nature. They did things for reasons that were completely incomprehensible to mortals, even to the gods. Theirs was the power inherent to the universe. It was the power of creation.
“Zeus, on the other hand, coveted their power. But he figured out how to steal it from them. He created humans - beings capable of worshiping him. The introduction of intelligence into the mortal world was not something that the natural order was able to react to. The first few generations of mankind barely changed things, and the Titans were uncaring anyway. They could create and destroy worlds with a thought. But as thousands of years passed, the humans increased and their belief caused Zeus to become more powerful than any of the individual Titans. He and his fellow gods fought them, and one by one, they defeated them”
“The gods won the war. What does this have to do with anything?” Heliodas asked.
Archetus smiled. “The Titans were weakened, imprisoned, and forced to slumber, but they did not die. They still exist, trapped, tormented, and still possessing inherent power.”
A shiver suddenly ran down Heliodas’ spine as he pondered the possibilities. Could they possibly find a way to overthrow the gods?
“Those of us who are supposedly Titan worshipers do not truly worship them. Instead, we have studied the ways to access their power directly. We fuel our magic by stealing it from their slumbering bodies!”
Heliodas thought back to the battle at the ruined temple. He remembered the way that the administrator Khejani had jumped into the air and floated to the top of the temple, and how he had lifted Thermiandra into the air and held her there. “Linear perception…” he muttered. “Tell me, can you use this information to learn things that you couldn’t possibly otherwise know?”
“Yes!” said Archetus. “The Titans are not limited by the flow of time in one single direction. This, by the way, was the hardest obstacle for Zeus to overcome when he was forming his plan to take power. The gods, like mortals, are limited to perceive the flow of time in a single direction.”
“So if someone were to use Titan magic to, say, discover the whereabouts of a certain item, it could lead you back to someone who has possessed the item in the past but doesn’t anymore, or…”
“…to someone who does not yet have it!” Archetus said. “You are beginning to understand.”
“Which means,” Pelephon said, “that Thermiandra was the strongest link Khejani had to the Pearls, even though she didn’t have them yet.”
“Exactly!” Archetus said. “Titan magic is all about creating conduits. The more direct the conduit, the more powerful the magic.”
“So Khejani was a Titan worshiper,” Heliodas said. “You’re a Titan worshiper.”
“I told you, I do not worship the Titans. I merely know how to steal power from them and channel it into magical effects.”
“The adm
inistrator of Cyme, Khejani, said something about the Pearls of Atlantis. Do you know anything about them?” Heliodas asked.
“Of course,” said Archetus. “I have them.” He reached into a pouch attached to his belt and brought forth five of the largest pearls Heliodas had ever seen. Each of them was about half an inch in diameter, and they possessed a natural radiance. Archetus opened his hand and the pearls floated into the air of their own accord and slowly began circling around his head. As they did so, their illumination increased. Heliodas looked past Archetus, and it actually appeared as though the light and color were being drained from the room and were coalescing on the pearls. The pearls, on the other hand, seemed to become more colorful, and brighter than they had originally been.
“Behold, the Pearls of Atlantis!” Archetus said.
The Egyptian opened his hand and the pearls settled back into his palm. When he put them away, the light and color flooded back into the room. Heliodas noticed that the others in the tavern were looking at them with bewildered expressions.
“We should probably continue this conversation somewhere else,” Heliodas suggested.
“I agree,” said Pelephon. “I think you drew more attention to us than we want right now.”
“Forgive us for the disturbance,” Archetus said to the occupants of the tavern on their way out.
They walked swiftly down the streets, and turned quickly onto a side street in order to put distance between themselves and the tavern. The patrons would not stand there in stunned silence for long, and Heliodas wouldn’t be surprised if some became interested in them after what they had just witnessed.
“Alright,” said Heliodas at last, “I think I understand what this is really about.”
“Syrpax wants the pearls, just like Khejani did,” Pelephon said.
“So the last thing we should do is turn them over to him,” Heliodas said.
“No, you don’t want to give Syrpax the pearls. He would use them against your army,” Archetus said.
“How do you know about the army?” Pelephon asked.
“I told you, my perception of time is not as linear as yours. I can tell that you’re both soldiers, and everybody knows that Alexander of Macedonia is going to invade.”
Echoes of Olympus (The Atheniad Book 1) Page 18