He scoffed at something she always said. How she could remain positive, he’d never understand. “That’s not much of a bright side. Especially to hear my brothers tell it. Or my sister. They’d say it’s the worst sort of hell.”
Xyn scoffed, then vanished so fast that Urian stumbled forward without her to lean against.
“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, in
“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.”
“Why?”
“Styxx of Didymos was no friend to either of them. He was the blood brother to Princess Ryssa.”
Urian’s stomach slid to his feet at the news. “Apollo’s mistress?”
“The same. And he died the day she did. Some claim by the hand of Apollymi. Others say that it was Apollo who killed him. Either way, he was only well loved by his soldiers. The ones he conquered … they didn’t like him at all.”
That went without saying.
Still, he was curious about the legendary prince commander. “Did you ever see him?”
She shook her head. “I only knew him by reputation. But what Memnus said was true. He was beloved by his men and ruthless in battle. No one ever defeated him.”
Wow … Urian could admire that. And it made him very interested. Like his father, he respected anyone who could stand strong in battle. The more anyone could learn about strategy, the better.
But first, he had a birthday to finish celebrating.
Then he’d focus on infuriating his father and the goddess who protected them. He planned to irritate Apollymi until she agreed to free Xyn or she killed him for the effort of it.
July 24, 9513 BC
“I really hate that bastard.”
“Now, now Archie, don’t be hating just because he kicks your ass every time you step into the arena.”
Archimedes shoved at Davyn so hard, Davyn staggered back into Paris. Both of them burst out laughing. When Archie moved forward to strike his much smaller friend, Urian flashed in behind him to catch his hand.
He’d had it with his brother’s bullishness and attitude. Especially today.
“You want to hit someone, adelphos. Return to the field and pick up your sword. I’ll be more than happy to knock you down a few more times until your temper’s spent. But you’re never to lift a hand to Davyn.”
“Fuck you, Urian!” Archimedes, who’d just been defeated by Urian in a sword match, charged at him.
“Archimedes!” Their father’s furious shout quelled his anger instantly. “What are you doing?”
His face swelled up into a sullen pout. “You’re always yelling at me for my temper … why don’t you ever go at him”—he jerked his chin toward Urian—“for his arrogance?”
Their father cut a steel glare toward Urian, who arched a brow in response to it as if daring them both. “I would, if he were in the wrong. Now go cool your heels or else I’ll be the one you’ll face in the arena.”
That succeeded in calming down the massive brute who was second in size only to their father.
Even though Urian was practically a full-grown man due to his Apollite blood, he still lacked a few inches of being as tall as the two of them and doubted if he’d ever measure up completely. While his muscles were well-defined and honed, he tended toward a leaner, faster build than his father’s, Paris’s, and Archie’s bulkier builds.
As did Davyn.
The two of them were about half the girth of the rest of them. Still, they could hold their own. What they lacked in all-out brutish strength, they made up for in speed and dexterity.
Satisfied that Archie was done shoving Davyn around, Urian retrieved his shield from where he’d dropped it when he’d rushed to protect his friend.
“Halt!” The fury returned to his father’s voice and froze them all to the spot.
Urian didn’t move or breathe as his father came over and pulled his shield from his arm. But his brothers were all grateful they weren’t the ones under fire—wretched dogs. They broke apart and even had the nerve to smile in relief.
And too late Urian realized why he was the one blessed with this unwanted attention. His shield was emblazoned with a rendition of Styxx’s black phoenix rising, and encircled by a Greek key pattern with the words “I defend” written above the phoenix’s head.
Shit, I should have changed that emblem more … When he’d redesigned it, he’d thought he’d disguised it enough.
Major miscalculation there.
Just as his mother had predicted, his father’s eyes and nostrils flared with anger. “This is the emblem of the Stygian Omada. The army that belonged to Styxx of the House of Aricles!”
For the merest heartbeat, he considered lying. But he’d always been honest in all things, especially with his father.
Judge me for what I do, not for the lies you hear from my lips, for I will not lie or from those of another about me …
That had always been his motto. He wasn’t about to change it now.
“I know, Solren.” Urian had stopped calling Stryker Baba a long time ago. “Baba” was for children and “Solren” was what men called their fathers.
“He was an enemy to Atlantis. You know this, Urian. Why, in the name of the gods, would you choose to fight under such a banner?”
Because I’m an idiot. That seemed the only logical reason given the amount of fury his father showed over this.
But Urian knew that answer would get him backhanded, so he checked his sarcasm and went with the truth. “He was one of the greatest military commanders to ever grip a sword, Solren. One who was barely older than I am now when he won his first battle at Halicarnassus, and that was against the gods themselves. And he was an enemy of Apollo. Just like us.”
The more Urian read about the man, the more he admired him.
“And our akra hates him as much as, if not more than, any of those gods. If you value your life, pido, burn that shield and never say his name around her. Do you understand me?”
Oh … That was important information to have.
“Aye, Solren. I’ll—” Urian’s words broke off as someone screamed out.
They all turned to see a large, burly male covered in blood. His eyes wild, he was obviously out of his mind and seeking any victim he could find.
“Trelos!”
Urian cringed as the cry went up among their people. Cursing, his father shoved Theo aside, drew his sword, and headed immediately for the deranged man. Paris and Davyn did the same.
He picked up his shield and went to lend a hand with the others who were rushing to defend their people. The trelos Daimon began attacking any and every Apollite he could reach.
Man, woman, child, it didn’t matter. He went for them all.
And with every bite, there was always a risk he could prematurely turn one of their people into a Daimon like him—one who had to rely on human or Apollite souls to elongate their lives or else they would decay into dust.
Which was what had driven him insane. For that was the chance every Apollite took whenever they decided to thwart Apollo’s curse in the manner that Apollymi had taught them. It was the risk no one ever mentioned or talked about, except in hushed whispers or fearful tones whenever they thought the goddess or his father couldn’t hear them.
It was hard enough to make the decision to become a true predator who lived off the life force of other sentient beings. To consume their souls so that you could live one more day past your curse.
It was quite another once you realized that every soul you consumed came with the very real possibility that it could drive you insane and turn you into this crazy, mindless beast that might cause your friends and family to be forced to put you down, with extreme prejudice.
But his people had no choice. Once the trelos madness took hold, there was no way back.
Death was the only option, as a new soul only worsened the madness of the previous one. Urian felt terrible for the beast, but his feelings didn’t matter when it came down to it.
Trelos Daimons posed as much a risk to the Apollite population as they did to the humans. They were akin to a rabid animal that killed indiscriminately. Without mercy, compassion, or comprehension. Therefore, he had to put aside his own emotions and help destroy them.
“Where is that bitch!” the trelos screamed. “I want the throat of the goddess who turned us into this!”
Stunned and shocked, Urian drew up short as he heard lucid words. It was the first time a trelos had said anything remotely sensible while in this state.
His father moved to cut off the trelos’s path to Apollymi’s palace.
For once, his father was no obstacle. With an astounding ease of motion, the Daimon knocked his father aside and slammed Archie into Davyn. Then he picked up Paris and threw him into Theo. Both of them crashed to the ground, tripping three others in the process.
Urian barely cut the trelos off before he reached Apollymi’s doors. “Don’t.” With a move he’d learned from studying Styxx’s journals and diagrams, he used his shield to press the Daimon backward.
The Daimon slung him to the side with the unexpected force of a Titan. It was so great that for a moment, Urian feared the bastard had torn his arm from its socket.
That hadn’t been in the manual.
Urian hit the ground hard but refused to stay there. No one would ever keep him down. Not for anything.
Rather, he quickly rolled over with his shield and in one fluid motion sprang to his feet. Prepared for war, he held his ground, but he knew his legs were wobbly. He only prayed that it wasn’t obvious to anyone else.
Especially the beast he faced.
With a loud, furious roar, the Daimon moved to wrest the shield from his arm. Afraid that this time he might actually lose his limb, Urian let it drop and stabbed him in the side. The trelos screamed and staggered back. His breathing labored, Urian unsheathed his kopis and stepped forward to slice upward with a stroke that landed straight in the center of the Daimon’s chest to hit the black mark where the human souls he’d feasted upon had gathered to form a giant stain over his heart. Instantly, the Daimon burst apart, showering them with a fine golden powder.
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