Stygian

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Especially when they turned to rush him, begging for favors, these Apollites who’d refused to share the most basic sustenance with him when he’d been in need. They’d have seen him dead and in the street without losing a bit of sleep over it.

  They were deplorable in their hypocrisy.

  “Urian! Remember how close we were when we were boys? We were always together. Inseparable!”

  He stared at Theo’s friend Iolus, who’d never spoken to him before. This was the same friend who used to tell Theo to make sure he left Urian at home, because he couldn’t stand Urian. “Your brother creeps me out with those freakish eyes of his.”

  Aye, Urian remembered him well.

  “Enough!” his father roared as he joined them. “Let the boy alone! If you want a miracle, write them down and hand them to Trates. Urian can review them later to see if he wishes to indulge you.”

  They protested, but luckily his father wouldn’t be swayed.

  Urian jerked his head as he felt something strange in the air.

  His father scowled at him. “You all right?”

  “Nay. Did you feel that?”

  “Feel what?”

  “Something …” Urian scanned the dark street around them. But the sensation crawling along his skin only grew worse, not better. “There’s a god here.”

  His father gave him a droll, bored stare. “That would be Apollymi. You can’t miss her. Tall, blond, angry goddess. Lives in the big, dark hall on your right.”

  He snorted at his father’s sarcasm. “Nay. This is different. Can’t you sense it?”

  His father shook his head. “I can only feel Apollymi and her Charonte.”

  Yet Urian sensed it. Fiercely. There was no denying the powerful sensation of another god in their midst. The sensation crept along his skin. Undeniable.

  Unmistakable.

  Worse, it was malevolent.

  “This is something else, Solren.”

  His father glanced around the crowd that didn’t want to disperse before he lowered his voice to speak to them. “There’s something I need to speak to all of you about. I was going to wait until later, but …”

  “What?”

  “War’s coming. Unlike anything you’ve seen. The devastation in Xanthia’s village wasn’t just an isolated attack. We’ve been blessed that the goddess took us in when she did. Because life on the surface …” His father visibly winced. “After Apollymi’s attack on Atlantis that devastated most of the world, and the loss of the Atlantean pantheon, it’s thrown the power balance of the gods into turmoil. And with it, the Chthonians.”

  Paris scowled. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said. With the destruction of one pantheon, the Chthonians are at each other’s throats on how to restore the balance of the universe and realign the gods and their territories. And while they fight, the gods are vying for power. Our scattered people haven’t found their footing and are being systematically slaughtered the instant they are identified.”

  Urian glanced to his brothers as he digested that news and what it meant for all of them. “Is that why so many Apollites have bartered with all manner of fey and demons? To spawn races in an effort to try to circumvent Apollo’s curse?”

  His father nodded. “I don’t know how that’ll play out in the coming years. But knowing the gods as I do, they usually put such races down like rabid beasts. Until we see how this goes, my suggestion is to lie low and give them time to kill each other off.”

  Ophion bristled at those words. “You speak of cowardice at a time when we should be helping them?”

  Their father backhanded Ophion for the insult. “I speak of sanity, idiot! The nail that stands out is hammered down. And I won’t see our people fall needlessly to feed anyone’s ego.”

  “What of our mother?” Urian braced himself for an equally violent reaction from his father.

  To his surprise, he handed him a small yellow sfora similar to the red one Stryker used to spy on the human realm. “I’ll entrust this to you. I gave her a means to summon us should she be attacked, as well as the option of returning here to live. She chose to stay among her own kind. Hellen made it clear that she doesn’t want to return to Kalosis.”

  Those words stung his heart, but Urian wouldn’t fault her for them. It was wrong to make her live in darkness when she didn’t have to. His mother deserved to live in the light. “I will watch over her.”

  Paris took Davyn’s hand. “Do we have a Chthonian who protects us, Solren?”

  “Nay. They don’t care about us. Apollites are on their own as far as the gods are concerned. Apollymi is all we have. She alone cares.”

  Ophion’s eyes darkened. “That’s not right.”

  “Since when is life fair or just?” Urian laughed bitterly at his brother’s stupidity.

  His father sighed. “Sadly, Urian’s right. This isn’t about fairness. It’s about survival. Fuck my father! I am not burying my sons or daughter because he’s an asshole who had to screw a cheap Greek whore. Let the world above burn to the ground and let them tear themselves apart. We’re safe here, and here we will stay.”

  Paris cleared his throat again. Louder this time. “Um … Solren? There’s only one small problem.”

  “And that is?”

  “You’re already a Daimon and the rest of us aren’t far behind. So how are we to survive locked down here without the human souls we need to keep from becoming dust?”

  Urian flinched at a very raw truth that could kill them all. A truth that filled him with absolute terror.

  Urian?

  He savored the sound of Xyn’s voice in his head. It was like a mental caress that never failed to warm him all the way through.

  Desperate to see her, he found her next to her falls, near the orchard. “Greetings, my fairest lady.” He wrapped his arms around her long, warm neck and breathed in that sweet scent that was uniquely his dragon.

  She lifted him up in her clawed hand to cradle him. What’s wrong?

  Laughing, he eyed the razor talon that was only a few inches from his face. “Most would see this.” He carefully tugged at it. “What kind of fool am I to lie here with that, this close, and not have any fear?”

  You know I’d never harm you.

  “True.” Sighing, he tucked his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles while she carried him toward her cave. “I felt a god here earlier. Did you?”

  She arched a spiny brow at that. Apollymi.

  Irritated, he grimaced up at her. “I swear, if one more person says that to me, I will react violently. Not Apollymi. Someone else. Completely different power.”

  Sarraxyn pressed her lips together as fear spread through her. Somehow, Urian must have sensed her father’s earlier visit when he’d dropped in again to press her to act against Apollymi and Urian. She’d told Helios not to come.

  He didn’t listen. Part of being a god—they thought they knew best and were always up to speed. But if that were true, then Helios wouldn’t have been pushed aside so easily by the Olympians.

  However, the last time she’d made the mistake of pointing that out to her father, he’d blasted her so hard that her brother Veles had been forced to intervene. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have survived the vicious assault.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to think of some way to distract Urian from this mess.

  How are you adjusting to your wife? Though she hated to ask, and resented Xanthia with a passion, it seemed the safest topic.

  At least that was her thought until she felt him go rigid in her palm. Perhaps marriage didn’t agree with her little Apollite, after all.

  One could hope.

  Urian?

  He sighed and sat up to make a face. “I should be grateful.”

  I sense a “but” in that statement.

  “But”—he smirked at her—“there’s a coldness to her sometimes. Is that normal?”

  Xyn bit back a scoff at the question. You’re asking me when I’ve never been around

anyone to know?

  He winced visibly. “Sorry. That was cruel of me. I didn’t think.”

  She fell silent as she listened to the rhythm of his heart change. He was so sad that it made her own heart ache for him in sympathetic pain. More than that, it made her bold enough to speak a secret that she kept buried deep inside. What if you had someone who loved you, Uri? But couldn’t feed you?

  “What do you mean?”

  Like your father. What if you fell in love with a human or someone else? Someone not an Apollite or Daimon. What would you do?

  He snorted disdainfully. “That would never happen. I wouldn’t let myself.”

  Xyn felt her heart shrivel with his bitter words. It’s rather small-minded of you, isn’t it?

  “Hardly. I’m only being practical. How could I eat if I chose to love another?”

  How easy he made it sound—like love was a choice. If it were, she wouldn’t be in this kind of pain. And his attitude seriously pissed her off. Her vision darkened as she had a sudden urge to fling him to the ground and crush him. “Being an idiot, you mean!”

  His eyes widened as she spoke her words out loud. “Xyn?”

  Furious, she set him down on the ground before she gave in to her impulse to harm him. “Go home, Urian. You’re not safe here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  When he refused to go, she shot a blast of fire at him.

  Urian barely dodged Xyn’s incendiary breath. The flames were a lot hotter than a normal fire. As it was, it singed him and burned his skin even though it didn’t come near his position.

  Holy Katateros! He’d had no idea of her power until then. No idea just how dangerous his dragon actually was.

  Blowing cool air over his skin to alleviate the burn, he rushed away from her garden. He was halfway home before he realized what must have angered her.

  The question she’d asked before she lost her mind.

  But no … Xyn couldn’t care for him. Not like that. She was a dragon.

  He was an Apollite.

  That wasn’t even physically possible.

  Then again, dragons abducted maidens all the time. Of course, in his mind, he’d always assumed they’d eaten them.

  Now he wondered about the outcome …

  Zeus and even his grandfather had supposedly impregnated humans while in the forms of other beasts. Bulls, swans, water …

  Surely Xyn didn’t want him to do that with her.

  Did she?

  The thought terrified him. It horrified him. He was married, and even if he weren’t, they were friends.

  Best friends, and had been for years. Like …

  Paris and Davyn.

  Shite.

  Urian slowed down as he realized that they were closer than regular friends. The two of them had shared much in their seclusion. More than that, Xyn had taken care of him. She’d been his refuge when the others were more than he could bear.

  It can’t work, Uri. She’s an animal. A dragon.

  And he had a wife to care for. There could never be anything between him and Xyn.

  Never.

  Yet still there was something inside him … something that scared him even more than his thoughts. A feeling he had that he honestly couldn’t deny.

  He did love her.

  And that would damn them both.

  September 7, 9510 BC

  Urian drew up short as he entered Apollymi’s palace and found the one thing he’d never found before.

  A stranger.

  “Who are you?”

  The tall, exceptionally thin woman turned around. She was breathtaking. And dressed in a most peculiar fashion—a short green chiton similar to what a man might wear, cut just above her shapely knees. A long, brown, finely woven chalmys was carefully draped around her thin shoulders and pinned with an ornate pearl-and-gold fibula that formed a double bow. Her golden-blond hair was intricately braided and coiled around her head in a style befitting a goddess.

  By her grace, height, and beauty, Urian might have mistaken her for an Apollite. Except she didn’t have fangs. Nor were her eyes brown. Rather, they were a vivid, exceptional green that were more akin to those of his aunt Artemis.

  Or at least that was what he’d been told about her.

  And now that he thought about it, this woman reeked of Greek divinity. To such an extent that he was surprised Apollymi wasn’t out here trying to locate her position with one of the three-headed dogs she used in her palace as guards.

  Or a few sniffing Charonte. Normally such a powerful presence in their midst would warrant at least Xedrix out here to investigate it.

  So why was this Greek maiden in Apollymi’s Stygian palace? Holding a war bow? And wearing running sandals in the garb of a boy?

  Nothing about this made a bit of sense to him.

  “You haven’t answered my question.” He used a sharper tone this time to let her know how dire her situation was.

  Her brow arched, she raked him with a hostile glare. “Who are you, and why are you here?”

  That audacious growl set off his own temper. “I’m not the one trespassing.”

  “Neither am I.”

  Yeah, right. No Greek belonged here and he knew it.

  Hissing, he teleported to stand in front of her. “I would beg to differ.”

  She smirked. “Beg all you want. Your theatrics leave me cold.”

  Before he could respond, Xedrix appeared beside them. His mottled blue skin seemed darker than normal as he glared down at them and tsked like an irate parent. “Do not try the patience of the Destroyer, children. She’s in no mood for your foolery.”

  He snatched them both by the arm and dragged them down the hall to Apollymi’s garden, where the goddess waited in her spot by her mirror.

  Urian locked his jaw so as not to protest the harsh grip, and noticed that the girl did the same.

  Apollymi gasped as she saw how they were being treated. “Xedrix! Release them!”

  He did so immediately. “Forgive me, akra. They were quarreling.”

  Rising from her seat, she shook her head. “So you beat them?”

  The demon shrugged with an unfathomable nonchalance given the anger in Apollymi’s eyes. “I wanted to eat them instead, but thought you might take more issue with that. This seemed the better option.”

  She sighed heavily, as if curbing a desire to skin her favorite demon. “Fine.” She waved the demon aside with her hand, then came forward to address Urian and the girl. “I suppose it’s time the two of you met, as you were bound to cross paths at some point. Urian, this is my Abadonna, Katra. Katra, meet Urian, the son of Stryker—leader of my Spathi army.”

  Urian’s nostrils twitched at the introduction. “She reeks of Artemis.” This must have been the stench he’d smelled earlier.

  Katra bristled. “I’m one of her servants, and you could use a bath yourself, buddy. How many days have you been sweating in that training armor, anyway? You should make a point of meeting the goddess of hygiene and making friends. Really.” She pressed her hand daintily to her nose to emphasize her insult.

  He narrowed his gaze dangerously. “Why is she here, akra?”

  With an uncharacteristic glint in her pale eyes, Apollymi watched them curiously. “She’s a spy for me.”

  Urian gaped.

  The wide-eyed look on Katra’s face said that those words were news to her as well, but Urian wasn’t dumb enough to contradict a highly volatile goddess.

  Even so, Katra cocked her head to study him with the same curiosity someone might use with an insect. “I’ve never seen an Apollite before.” She lifted her hand. “May I?”

  Offended that she’d treat him like an experiment, he lifted his chin to protest. “I’m not a freak.”

  “I know. But you are different from anyone I’ve ever seen before, so I’m curious.”

  He glanced toward Apollymi.

  “Show Katra what the bastard did to your people. Let her see what an animal does to his own son and grandchildren. Help her understand why she should hate him and never trust Artemis, who has turned her back on you. You are the goddess’s nephew, after all. Yet she does nothing for her own blood. Let Katra see how much love the cold bitch has in her heart for her family.”

  Katra passed a peeved stare at her but didn’t speak a word of contradiction.

  Opening his mouth, Urian allowed the girl to examine his fangs. Though the term “girl” was probably uncharitable of him. Most likely, she was close to his true age and yet she looked to be a teen, whereas because he was an Apollite, he appeared a full-grown man in his mid-twenties.

  She gently fingered the sharp tips of his fangs. “Do they hurt?”

  “Nay. I’ve never had any other kind of teeth.”

  “And you don’t eat food or drink anything other than blood?”

  He shook his head.

  She fretted. “How awful.”

  “You don’t miss what you don’t know.”

  “Not true. I miss my father every day of my life, yet I’ve never known him. And I’m forever curious about every detail of him and his life.”

  That was different, he supposed. Missing a father wasn’t the same as being forced to drink blood. He couldn’t imagine a life where he didn’t know who his father was. Or not seeing him every day.

  There was nothing in life more important to him than his family. And in particular, he valued his parents. Both of them.

  But all in all, Katra was an odd bit of fluff, with some rather peculiar thoughts. Urian scowled at her. “And I prefer not to torture myself with thoughts over what I don’t have or what I’m missing. Life’s too willing to do it for me.”

  “Dark much?”

  He snorted at her sarcasm. “Hard to be light and fluffy when you’re banished to a hell realm.”

  Katra paused to consider that. “You’ve never seen daylight, have you?”

  He glanced past her to Apollymi, who watched them with a disturbing intensity. How he wished he could read her thoughts. Or Katra’s at the moment. “Only through the goddess’s mirror.”

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