Stygian

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Stygian Page 9

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  More relieved than he wanted to admit, Urian barely suppressed his nervous laughter. Mustering as much bravado as he could, he used his arm to wipe away his sweat and tried his best to act nonchalant about his victory. As if he did this kind of thing all the time, instead of it being his first real victory in battle.

  But inside, he was turning cartwheels.

  Who’s the Daimon-slayer? I’m the Daimon-slayer. Kiss my ass, bitches!

  Archie began cursing him while the crowd around them cheered his name. His father smiled proudly. Yet in all honesty, and in spite of his relief, Urian was more shocked than anything. Stunned he was still standing and that his strike had worked.

  Given the size and immense strength of the Daimon, he was lucky he wasn’t bleeding on the ground, lying next to his shield in pieces.

  Come to think of it …

  Where was his shield?

  Urian scowled as he realized it was nowhere to be seen. What the …?

  “You were amazing!” His father clapped him on the back and hugged him.

  As did Davyn and several others who rushed to congratulate his victory.

  Until they realized that Apollymi and her Charonte stood in the open door of her palace, glaring at them.

  That cut short everyone’s revelry and merriment. A scowling goddess usually did.

  Especially when it was Apollymi. No one wanted to come under her scrutiny, as those who did usually met with a massive calamity of some sort.

  Even Urian swallowed hard as he prayed that her expression wasn’t directed at something he’d done. He could literally feel his testicles trying to climb back inside his body.

  “How did that Daimon get so close to my domain?” Oh yeah, that tone was chilling.

  His father rubbed nervously at his neck. No doubt his own nuts were shriveling, which made Urian feel better about his. “He came through the portal, akra.”

  She folded her arms over her chest, with a sarcastic sneer. “You were supposed to be monitoring it, were you not, Strykerius?”

  “I was, akra. Forgive me.”

  Her gaze narrowed dangerously as a wind began to stir through Kalosis, warning them of her temper. They all dreaded whenever the goddess did that. “It appears these treli are becoming problematic for us. We need someone who hunts them. A group who can make certain they are dealt with before this happens again.”

  “Agreed.” His father glanced to Trates, who paled instantly.

  Apollymi also turned toward Trates, who shrank back from her stare as if she’d shot fire from her eyes at him. “Gather forty of your best warriors, and designate them as an elite force to hunt them down.”

  “I will, akra.” Trates’s voice actually cracked. He cleared it before he spoke again. “We’ll have an Illuminati guard you, and the portal to make sure no other comes this close again.”

  “You do that. And make sure Urian is among them.”

  Urian’s stomach hit the floor. Why was he drawn into this?

  His father’s eyes widened. “But he’s just a pido, akra.”

  “A boy who succeeded where the rest of you failed. Do not underestimate your son, Strykerius. Even at his tender age, he’s already among the best of your fighters.”

  He barely caught the groan in his throat. Great …

  Urian could already feel the ass-kickings that were headed his way as he met his brothers’ angry glares. Single me out, goddess. Not like they don’t already resent my father’s favoritism that he never seeks to hide. By all means, add yours to it, and put another target on my back.

  If his father wanted to know why he was such a good fighter, all he had to do was start by counting how many sons the man kept producing whenever he dropped his loincloth. Sons who took aim for Urian’s head whenever they were left alone. Even Tannis was known to take a whack at him from time to time, if he let his guard down around her.

  And she had incredible aim with her shoes. Thank the gods she didn’t sharpen the heels.

  Oh, to have been an only child …

  But no, he had to have been born to fertile parents.

  Theo shoved his shoulder into Urian’s back as he walked past, letting him know they would have “words” later.

  Beautiful.

  There were times when he truly felt as if he were an outsider in his own family.

  This was definitely one of them. Especially when he caught the snarled-up grimace that contorted the features of his own twin as everyone began dispersing.

  Damn. It was particularly bad when even Paris resented him. Davyn passed him a sympathetic stare before he followed after Paris.

  Urian …

  He didn’t react to those summonses he’d learned long ago only he could hear. Sadly, this one didn’t come from the one who brought him joy. But rather from the one who scared him witless.

  Suddenly, he felt as if he were being watched. His skin crawled with the sensation. He rubbed at his neck and glanced about until he caught sight of a petite blonde he’d never seen before. She was stunning.

  And the moment their gazes met, she quickly rushed off and vanished with the crowd.

  Damn it! He’d give anything to find out who she was. But right now, he didn’t dare. Not while he was being called.

  His little timid rabbit would have to wait.

  Taking care to make sure no one saw what he was doing or where he was headed, he made his way through a hidden back door, into Apollymi’s palace and down the hall that led to her private garden where she spent most of her time by the pool she’d first shown him many years ago when he’d been a small boy seeking daylight. A pool he’d visited many times in secrecy since that fateful dawn.

  He slowed as he drew near her position.

  As always, she was breathtaking in her beauty. Ethereal and strangely serene in her sadness that tugged at his heart. He’d never seen anyone so graceful.

  Her long white-blond hair was dressed in tiny braids that coiled around her face in an intricate style that framed her delicate features. The back of her hair had been left free to fall in waves over her thin, pale shoulders. Her long black gown fanned out across the dark stones, blending with it as if she were part of the landscape. A cold, brittle piece that would mercilessly crush anyone who dared disturb her.

  Someone sane would run as far away from this place as they could. But he’d been summoned, and so running seemed more like suicide. Therefore, he stepped forward so that he could kneel before her and bow his head. “Akra.”

  She pulled her hand from the black waters and wiped it off in the folds of her gown. “You were incredibly brave today, Urian. A credit to your solren.”

  “Thank you, akra. I try.”

  “No, Urian. You succeed.” She rose to her feet so that she could approach him. A peculiar air hung around her. One that was unfamiliar to him and left him puzzled as to her mood, which was even more somber than normal.

  Cocking her head, she narrowed her gaze. “Should we discuss this?” His shield appeared between them.

  Urian’s eyes widened as he realized why she was angry at him. Ah … crap, not this again. Why didn’t I listen to my mother?

  “I meant no disrespect, akra.”

  Instead of anger, a strange light danced in her pale, swirling eyes. “None taken, but I imagine your solren was quite put out by it.”

  That was a mild way of stating his mood. “He said you would be livid.”

  She pursed her lips. “I have to say that Styxx of Didymos was no friend of mine. And I find it … odd that you would admire such a beast, given what he did to Atlantis.”

  Urian shrugged. “He was strong and resourceful. Fearless.”

  “And he almost marched his army up the steps of Katateros, into the hall of the gods.”

  “So it’s true?”

  She nodded. “But for an act of treachery on the part of Apollo, Styxx would have defeated Atlantis, and this would have been his home. He would have ruled us all.”

  “Is that why you hate him?



  “Nay, child. My reasons run much deeper than that. And are far more personal.” Her grip tightened on the shield until her knuckles turned as white as her hair. But after a moment, she let out a ragged breath. “However, I won’t take your hero from you. A boy should always have someone he looks up to. Someone he aspires to be. And as much as I hated that bastard while he lived in the mortal world, I will grant you that he was fair to his men in war. An undefeated commander in battle. There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that even a mangy dog has noble traits when he’s not scratching his fleas or licking his balls.”

  Urian wasn’t sure how to take that last bit. Especially when a moment later she changed his shield so that Styxx’s phoenix merged with her dragon emblem to form a unique chimera of the two.

  A Daimon symbol.

  With a motherly smile, she held it out toward him. “Here, m’gios. You shall form a Stygian Omada of your own and lead it for me. Your army will eclipse Styxx’s and be remembered long after his is nothing more than a forgotten memory.”

  Stunned and amazed, he gaped at her graciousness. “Thank you, akra. I shall do my best to honor you both.”

  “I know you will.” There was a longing in her gaze that he didn’t understand. It lingered with a haunting pain.

  As he started to leave, she stopped him.

  “Answer me another thing, Urian.”

  “Akra?”

  “I know why your brother Paris has no interest in wenching, but I’ve noticed that you refrain as well. Yet not for the same reasons. Why?”

  He felt heat sting his cheeks as this inevitable question came up yet again. Why was everyone so fixated on his diet? Or lack thereof? It was bad enough that he was embarrassed by the fact that he was alone. Why did everyone have to keep making him explain it?

  “Did you swallow your tongue, pido?”

  “I think I died of shock, akra.”

  She tsked at him. “Have you no answer for me? Or, like Paris, do you prefer the company of men as well?”

  “In truth, I prefer to keep to myself, akra.”

  Her look turned dark and foreboding. “You’re lying, Urian. You should never lie to a god. We can smell it on you.”

  Shame filled him as he fidgeted with the edge of his shield. This was the one thing he’d never liked to speak about.

  To anyone.

  “Urian?”

  He glanced up to meet her swirling silver gaze. “You know that I’m not like the others.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “They fear me, akra. Because of my eyes, they say that I’m even more cursed than the others.”

  “Your solren has spoken to me of this foolishness and I’ve told him to pay it no heed. Neither should you.”

  Tears choked him as his humiliation rose up again to burn like an inferno. “Easy for you to say, akra. And for Solren. But it’s hard when I’m the only one here who has to take my meals from a cup. And everyone knows it.”

  “I see.”

  But it was Urian who felt the pain and shame of it all. “That is why I keep to myself.… which is fine. Really. I’ve no desire to father children and watch them be faced with the decisions we have to make. I would much rather be alone.”

  At least that was the lie he tried to convince himself to believe.

  She moved to stand beside him so that she could brush her hand through his hair with a tenderness no one would believe her capable of. But she’d never hesitated to show it with him. At least whenever they were alone.

  Sadly, she and his father were the only two who weren’t afraid of him.

  And Davyn. For some reason, he’d always been a good friend.

  “Poor child.”

  He shifted uneasily under the weight of her sympathy. “Why are my eyes blue, akra?”

  She cupped his cheek in her cold palm and turned his face so that he met her gaze. “Because you are special, Urian. Not cursed. Special. Never doubt that.”

  “I don’t feel special.” He felt like a bastard stepchild. Hated and unwanted.

  She tensed and pulled back as if something had disturbed her. “Your father’s looking for you. You’d best go before he worries.”

  Nodding, he lifted his shield and bowed to her, then turned to leave.

  “Urian?”

  He paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Aye, akra?”

  “Never doubt your destiny. Greatness isn’t something you feel. And it’s not taking up a challenge or a fight that you know you’ll win. Greatness comes when you’re scared and yet you take action against a greater foe, while others cower in terror and allow themselves to be victimized and do nothing to protect themselves or others. What you did today, both for Davyn and for me … that was greatness. And that you have in spades.”

  His heart swelled with pride. Whenever she spoke of such things, he could almost believe it. “Thank you, akra.”

  She smiled and this time it reached her frozen eyes. “Trust in your destiny, Urian. For it will find you. Even if you hide from it.”

  September 3, 9512 BC

  Xyn drew up short as she found Urian in their usual meeting spot on a blanket he’d spread out near the dark falls that fed part of Apollymi’s mirror. While that part wasn’t unusual, the fact that he’d brought food with him was, especially since he could neither eat nor drink it. This was something he used to do for his mother while she lived here.

  Not for her.

  What is this?

  Smiling, he pushed himself to his feet. “Happy birthday!”

  She scowled at his words, confused by them. Pardon?

  His smile widened to where she could see his fangs. “Well, since you don’t know when you were born and you always take care to remember the date of my birth, I decided that I’d give you one of your own. So I designate today as yours. Happy birthday, Xyn.”

  Tears blurred her vision at his kindness. Worse? Tenderness choked her. She didn’t know what to say. No one had ever been so thoughtful before. She almost changed out of her dragon form and back into her human skin, but caught herself.

  There was no telling how he might react. While he knew she had a lot of powers, he didn’t know the full extent of them. And she’d never bothered to tell him that she could make herself appear human. In fact, there was much she’d kept from him out of fear of what he’d think and how he’d react if he knew the truth—such as who her parents really were.

  He would hate me forever.

  That she couldn’t bear. Urian was all she had in this world where she was cut off from everything and everyone. He was her only friend. Apollymi had seen to it that even with her extensive powers, she couldn’t Bane-Cry to her brothers to help her. She had no escape.

  No hope.

  Urian was her sole comfort. Her light in this abysmal darkness. The irony of that, given his name, wasn’t lost on her. And it was only part of why he meant as much to her as he did.

  “Are you crying?”

  She blinked the moisture away, not wanting him to see her weakness. Of course not. The stench of you is what makes my eyes water.

  Urian laughed. He never took offense at her teasing because he knew she didn’t mean it. She could never really insult him. “I don’t believe you.”

  You should. When was the last time you bathed, anyway?

  Tsking, he shook his head at her as he feigned insult. “Fine then, I shall eat this alone.”

  You don’t eat.

  “Oh yeah. I forgot.”

  Flopping down by his side while taking care not to harm him with her dragon’s body, she nosed at the food, which actually was very tasty. Thank you, Uri.

  Urian smiled at his irritable dragon. He didn’t know why he found her cantankerous nature so amusing when such demeanor from his brothers drove him to outright violence.

  Yet he adored her.

  Everything about her, even her insults.

  And he loved doing things for her whenever he could. Large or small, it made no never-mind to
him.

  Happy that he’d pleased her, he climbed onto her back and lay against her spine, between her wings so that he could scratch between them where she couldn’t reach.

  She let out a contented sigh and spread her black wings wide on the dark grass. Her sides began to vibrate in a soothing way that was a dragon’s equivalent to a purr. The first time he’d discovered it, she’d almost rolled over and killed him.

  Now, they’d found a happy compromise that allowed him to scratch her back and her to lie peacefully without causing him injury.

  The tips of her wings fluttered in time to her purr.

  Urian stretched out along her spine. “So what did you do all week?”

  She scoffed. Ate. Bathed. Slept. Circled the garden. Slept a bit more. Thought about setting fire to Apollymi … you know, the ushe. What about you?

  “Fought with my brothers. Fought with my sister. Was punished by my father for fighting with my siblings. Trained to fight. Was lectured on why fighting was bad, which confuses the hades out of me. Got snubbed a few dozen times by everyone around me. You know, the ushe.”

  Sorry.

  “It’s fine. I don’t mind. Kind of used to it.”

  I hear the lie in your tone.

  Yeah, and he felt the lie in his knotted gut. How he wished it didn’t bother him. “And here I thought I was being subtle.”

  She turned her head so that she could look at him on her back. So what do you want, my Uri?

  He sighed wistfully. “I don’t know. When I was little, I wanted to see the sun. To walk out into daylight. Now … I want to rip out Apollo’s throat.”

  Don’t you want a family?

  Urian shook his head. “I have all the family I need. Most days more than I want.”

  She laughed. But what about love? A woman of your own?

  That was beyond him. No female would ever feed him. He’d given up all hopes of that useless dream and reconciled himself to his cold meals. Which disturbed him most of all. As Theo and Archie kept pointing out, he was destined to die an unwanted virgin. “I don’t believe in love. At least not what the poets peddle.”

  You’re young.

  Perhaps. But there was no way to miss the disdain and suspicion that hovered in the eyes of everyone he met. Or to miss hearing their whispered hate. How he cursed his superhuman ears that allowed him to pick up every syllable of their vicious gossip.

 
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