Stygian

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  “Well, now that I know where you are, I might occasionally bother you. As long as you don’t feed me grasshoppers, ants, scorpions, or other nasty multilegged things the gods never intended us to eat.”

  “Stop being a baby. Eat your meat or you can’t have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?”

  Urian laughed. “I am stunned you know Pink Floyd.”

  Styxx shrugged as he opened Skylos’s dinner first and poured it into a small metal bowl. “Modern music is the only thing I miss about your world.”

  “Next time I come, I’ll bring you a solar battery charger for your phone. Not like you don’t have an abundant supply of sunlight here.”

  “That I do have. Definitely.” Styxx paused as his gaze fell to a small chest near his rifle. He went over to it and opened it, then pulled out an oiled cloth and handed it to Urian. “My gift to you, little brother.”

  Urian frowned. “Thank you.” He unwrapped the cloth to find Styxx’s black-and-bronze vambraces. “Wow … how old are these?”

  “They were mine back in the day. My mentor, Galen, gave them to me, and I wore them into every battle I fought.”

  Urian’s jaw went slack as he realized exactly how old and valuable these were. These were a piece of history. And a treasured piece of Styxx’s past. They needed to go to a son or a museum, not to someone like him. He shook his head. “I can’t take these.”

  Styxx pushed them back toward him. “I have no use for them anymore. They’re just something else I have to pack and carry, or worry about losing.”

  Urian let out a long, appreciative breath. “These are incredible. I can’t believe how pristine they are. Thank you. I’ll cherish them always.”

  His gratitude made Styxx extremely uncomfortable. “I know how much you like to collect antiques. And they don’t get much older than those.” He went to start the campfire so that he could cook their dinner.

  Urian carefully wrapped the vambraces back into their cloth and tucked them into his backpack as he watched Styxx. His heart broke for his friend who’d felt so out of place in the world that he’d had to come to the remotest place on it to find some sense of belonging. Urian hadn’t been joking when he said that he’d go insane with this kind of isolation. This was truly a desolate, hard way to live.

  But sadly, it was all Styxx knew.

  All he’d ever known.

  And as sad as it was, at least Styxx had found a place where he belonged. Urian was still looking. He envied Styxx his mental health here. Because the truth was, he didn’t have it.

  Not even as a boy. Never in his life had he felt completely at home the way Styxx appeared. The closest he’d come had been in Phoebe’s arms.

  Without her …

  I’m nothing.

  When surrounded by a crowd, he was forever alone. And the apocalypse was coming. If he was smart, he’d just roll with it and let it end his suffering, once and for all. Better to go out a hero, fighting.

  Yeah. That would be the perfect ending. At least then, he’d finally be with the women he’d loved. Maybe then, he’d finally have the elusive place called home.

  June 23, 2012

  Acheron sighed in aggravation as he surveyed the empty condo he’d provided for Styxx after his brother had asked to leave Katateros. He’d been trying to catch the bastard for weeks now, but every time he “popped” in, Styxx was gone.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d think Styxx had moved out. But the bankbook was still in a kitchen drawer, along with Styxx’s license and credit cards. He couldn’t have gone far without money or ID.

  “Ryssa was right. You are always annoying.”

  Then again, it was their birthday. Maybe Styxx was out celebrating with friends.

  Ash paused at the thought. Did Styxx have any friends? Sadly, he had no idea. As Ryssa’s journals that Tory had uncovered during her excavations had shown him, there was a lot he didn’t know about his own twin brother. And the more he read, the more he was desperate to talk to Styxx.

  To find the real truth.

  Mentally, Ash flogged himself for not cornering Styxx when he’d been in Katateros. But he’d been too angry then to listen. Too hurt to care about Styxx’s side of anything.

  Now …

  Closing his eyes, he tried to pinpoint Styxx’s location. Yet all he got out of that was a migraine. New York was too big a city, with too many people in it. I should have stuck his ass on another deserted island. At least then I’d know where he is.

  Even more agitated, he glanced to the bookshelves that were lined with ancient Greek books …

  Written in ancient Greek. Ash held his hand up and used his powers to pull one from the shelf.

  Glancing around the room, he realized then that Styxx had only written in Greek. And not just any Greek. Proto-Greek. The oldest of all the Greek variants. All his notes. Everything. That was Styxx’s native tongue.

  Oh shit …

  Can Styxx read English? That was something he hadn’t considered before he’d sent his brother out into the modern world. Since Styxx had been imprisoned for more than eleven thousand years, there was a good possibility that Styxx would have no idea how to read any modern language. At all. It would explain the checkbook, cards, and ID. Styxx might not have even known what those were.

  You’re an effing idiot!

  Replacing the book, Ash winced at his own blind stupidity and hoped that he wasn’t as big a bastard as he feared he was. Of all people, he knew how bad illiteracy sucked. Having been illiterate as a human slave, he knew that better than anyone. He couldn’t imagine trying to navigate the modern world without at least a rudimentary understanding of the English alphabet.

  And with that thought, against his will, his mind went to the past—to the days before their uncle Estes had ripped him from the home he’d shared with Ryssa and Styxx.

  While Ryssa would spend most of her mornings visiting with her mother, Ash would sit in her room and listen to Styxx’s tutors mercilessly grill him on all manner of subjects. As the heir to Didymos, Styxx had been required to study hard and learn as much as he could, as fast as he could. For hours every day, Styxx had been sequestered without breaks or relief. If he dared to ask for one, his tutors would report him to his father, who considered such actions as Styxx’s attempt to avoid responsibility. Something the king did not take lightly. “You’re to be a king, boy, not some sniveling wastrel!” Xerxes had been merciless with his mandates and expectations.

  No wonder Styxx had been plagued with migraines.

  His free time had been seriously limited. Even so, Styxx had worked around his father as best he could. And in his mind, Ash could see Styxx as a boy smiling at him while he placed a small box in Ash’s hand and sat down next to him on his bed.

  “What’s this?” Ash had asked him.

  “Open it and see.”

  Instead, he’d reached out to brush Styxx’s blond hair back from a vicious black eye. And that hadn’t been the only damage. A bit of blood still crusted his nose and mouth. “What happened?”

  Ashamed, Styxx had looked away. “As a birthday present, Father decided it was time I began my war training. Today was the first lesson, but I fear I have no talent for it. Selinius said that he’s never seen anyone more inept than me.”

  Acheron felt terrible for the pain that eye must have caused him. Styxx cringed every time he blinked but said nothing about how awful it must be.

  “What did Father say?”

  Styxx sighed. “That I embarrassed him. He told Selinius to take no mercy. It is imperative that I learn to fight as a man and not rely on others to protect me.”

  Yet Styxx was only a five-year-old child and Selinius a war hero.

  Styxx nudged the box in Ash’s hands. “Open it already!”

  More worried about Styxx and his fate at the hands of another tutor who hated him, Ash had obeyed. As soon as he saw the small wooden soldier, his breath caught. It was exquisite.

  “Do you

like it?”

  Ash smiled. “I love it! Thank you!” Without thinking, he grabbed Styxx into a hug and discovered that his face wasn’t the only part of him his war tutor had bruised. “I’m sorry.”

  His breathing ragged, Styxx shrugged it off. “It’s fine.” He fingered the soldier in Ash’s hand. “I hope I bought the right one. The vendor said that you’d admired it when Ryssa purchased you the horse.”

  “I did, but Ryssa didn’t have the coin for both.” Ash scooted off the bed to place the soldier on the horse in his window. “What did Ryssa get you?”

  “Did you know the soldier’s arms move?” Styxx joined him at the window to show him.

  Ash frowned again as he noted the sadness that tainted his brother’s smile. “Did Ryssa not get you a horse, too?”

  As before, Styxx didn’t respond to his question. “I’m so glad I got the right one. I was worried that the vendor might have forgotten or wasn’t being truthful with me.”

  “Styxx,” Ash said sternly, “what did you get for your birthday?”

  His hand falling away from the soldier, he sighed heavily and stepped back. “A hoplomachos.”

  A drill instructor who had beaten him … “Is that it?”

  All the happiness faded from his vivid blue eyes. “Father also gave me the honor of observing court sessions when he holds them.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Every morning, I have to sit with him while he settles disputes for the people so that I can see what will be required of me as king. And so that I can witness Father’s wisdom and learn from it.”

  Ash gaped at the boring horror he described. “But mornings are your free time.” The only free time Styxx had at all—the rest was taken up with tutors, work, and temple obligations. Those mornings were when Styxx would sneak off to play with him until Styxx’s lessons began after lunch.

  “Father says I’m too old now for play. He’s not raising a boy, but a king, and kings don’t play with toys. I have to assume my royal duties and stop being selfish and thoughtless all the time.”

  Ash looked at his soldier that he knew Styxx would have bought with his own coin that, unlike Ryssa, he’d had to work for. “You’re not selfish or thoughtless.”

  Styxx didn’t comment. “I better go. The last time I was late for Master Karpos, he told Father. Father’s already angry enough that I asked for a toy today when I’m too old for such. I’ve no wish to aggravate him further.” Without another word, Styxx left.

  Closing his eyes to blot out the past, Ash winced as he mentally pushed those memories back into the darkest recesses of his mind.

  He and Styxx had been so close when they were young.

  Brothers, forever and always. It sickened him that Estes and the others had put such a wedge between them.

  That they had put a wedge between them. Harsh words and even harsher actions.

  On both their parts.

  For centuries, he’d kept all those happy memories of Styxx bottled up. Kept anyone from knowing he had a brother, at all. And while he’d gone on with his life, he’d abandoned Styxx to absolute solitude.

  To Artemis’s “tender” care.

  Guilt and pain stabbed him hard over his own thoughtless callousness.

  Tonight, Tory had a huge surprise party planned for him. Urian was supposed to keep him occupied with his son while Tory and the others decked out Sanctuary and finished the preparations. He wasn’t supposed to know anything about it, but her best friend Pam stunk at keeping secrets and had accidentally told him two days ago.

  Never in his life had he been happier.

  And Ash owed it all to Styxx and Urian for the sacrifice they’d made in rescuing Tory out of Kalosis. Had his brother not stepped in to help Urian save Tory’s life, Ash wouldn’t have a precious son to hold.

  Or a beautiful woman who was his entire world.

  He glanced around the stark condo that showed no sign of life and wished Styxx were here so that he could say thank you one more time. So that he could wish him a happy birthday for the first time since they were little boys, bonded as twin brothers.

  But then what the hell? He hadn’t spent a birthday with Styxx in over eleven thousand years. What difference would one more make?

  Still …

  “Wherever you are, brother, I hope you’re surrounded by friends.”

  June 25, 2012

  “Where the hell’s my brother?”

  Urian paused his game that he was playing against his nephews and muted the mic to stare blankly at Acheron. “You need to modulate that unwarranted ire, buddy. I’m not your ho and you ain’t my pimp.”

  A tic started in Acheron’s jaw. “Sorry.” But his tone contradicted that apology. “Do you happen to know where Styxx is?”

  Of course he did. However, he was too pissed to answer. So Urian took a swig of his beer. “Am I your brother’s keeper?”

  “You gave Tory his e-mail. I assume that means you’re keeping tabs on him.”

  Urian clicked back into play and had to bite his tongue to stop his causticity from saying something that would cause Ash to blast him through a wall. “Your point?”

  “I’ve been to his condo three times this month and he’s not there. As far as I can tell he hasn’t been there for quite some time.”

  Nice powers of observation, Atlantean god. It only took you what? Three and a half years to realize your brother had moved out?

  For that alone, he wanted to punch Ash.

  Refraining from that particular level of stupid, Urian cleared his throat. “Maybe we should put his face on a milk carton, see if anyone has information on his location.” He frowned. “Do they still have milk cartons? Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen one in a while.”

  “I’m serious, Urian.”

  “I can hear that,” he said, taking his anger out on his online opponent as opposed to his boss. “I mean, damn, how dare my eleven-thousand-year-old brother not be right where I put him three and a half years ago after he did me a huge favor and saved my life and that of my wife. Rank filthy bastard. Inconsiderate dog! Maybe we should take him out back and beat the shit out of him for worrying you so.”

  “What is your problem?”

  Time to kiss the wall …

  Urian sighed and clicked the mic on for a second. “Hey, Tyr, Erik? Can we pick this back up later, little buddies? Uncle Ash needs me for a little bit.”

  “Is something wrong?” Wulf asked.

  “Nah, I’ll be back in a few. Don’t let the little guys kill me off yet.” Urian signed off and removed his headset.

  Picking up his beer, he faced Acheron. “You know I’d die for you. I put my ass on the line for you all the time without fail or hesitation. Hell, sometimes I’m even grateful you saved my life. But you’re not perfect, Ash. None of us are, and when it comes to your brother, you’re a fucking prick.”

  Rage mottled Acheron’s cheeks as his eyes darkened. “You don’t know my brother like I do.”

  “Really?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “When was the last time you sat down and had an actual conversation with Styxx? Oh wait …”

  Urian feigned a laugh as he slapped his thigh. “I know this one.” He sobered and those blue eyes pierced Ash with contempt. “You were seven years old at the time. So that’s what? You’re the same age as my dad … so that would make you older than shit and shit’s great-grandfather … it would have been only about eleven thousand five hundred and fifty-three years ago, give or take a few hours … Yeah, you’re right, that makes you one hell of an expert on everything to do with Styxx, since my last conversation was last week when I spent two nights with him. But hey, why did I even question it? Stupid me.”

  Ash’s cheeks mottled with even more color. “Don’t you dare judge me on something you know nothing about.”

  “Why not? You judge Styxx all the time on things you know nothing about.”

  “I’m warning you, Urian …”

  He scoffed at that empty threat. “And I’m suicidal, boss. Fear factor really doesn’t play in with a man who doesn’t give a shit about life. But … you know your brother, you say? Fine, expert, then answer me one basic, easy question about him.”

  Urian paused for effect. “What was the name of his wife? You know, the one you didn’t even know he had? He had a five-year committed relationship with her before he died, while you lived in the same house with him and gained all your expertise where he was concerned … and you know him so well. She’s the only woman he has ever loved. Not knowing her name is like claiming to know me and not knowing Phoebe’s. For that matter, it’s not like he didn’t carve her name and that of his son into his arm eleven thousand five hundred and thirty-six years ago. Swear to the gods, you cannot miss seeing her name. So if you know him at all, you have to know her name.”

  Ash’s eyes turned vibrant red. “He tried to kill me,” he growled.

  “Yeah, I know, because I do talk to him. About a decade ago in New Orleans. Surrounded by Dark-Hunters, you were wide awake and an Atlantean god with all his powers available to him when Styxx attacked you out of desperation to escape the eternal hell he was damned to. Not quite the same as being a human boy in bed, sound asleep when someone plunges a dagger through your heart and leaves you in a pool of your own blood to die alone. That was you who did that to him, right?”

  “He was trying to kill his own father. Did he tell you that? Plotting a conspiracy against him and blaming me for it.”

  “Was he? ’Cause you know, people never lie about shit like that. Ever.” Ash stiffened. “Yes, they do lie, Urian. So why are you believing Styxx when I know what a liar he is?”

  Glaring his rage, Urian set his beer aside. “How do you know? You still haven’t answered the easiest question on the planet about him … if you know nothing else about your brother, you should know his wife’s name.”

  Acheron glanced away.

  Urian shook his head. When he spoke, his tone was low and chiding. “All those powers you hold and you can’t answer it. It was Bethany, just so you know. They were going to name their son Galen, after his mentor who died in his arms when he was a kid. A mentor who gave his life to save Styxx’s when someone other than you tried to assassinate him while he was buying his wife’s wedding ring. Now let me tell you about the man I know …”

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