Stygian

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Falcyn landed a few feet away. “Blaise? You dead?”

  “No.” He didn’t sound like he was in any better shape than Falcyn, though.

  “Good. I want the pleasure of killing you myself, you bastard!”

  Blaise snorted.

  “Don’t scoff, dragon.” Urian was every bit as peeved. “Soon as I can move again, I intend to help with your murder and dismemberment.”

  Falcyn turned his head to the right, where Medea lay a few feet away from his side, unmoving on the grass. “Medea?”

  She finally lifted a hand to brush her hair from her face. “Not dead, either.”

  “Brogan?”

  “Just wishing I were.” Shifting her legs, she made no move to rise. Rather she seemed content to lie on her back, staring up at the dismally gray sky. “Is it always this miserable to travel in such a manner?”

  Blaise sighed. “Pretty much. Least I didn’t slam into an invisible force field this time.”

  Rolling over, Falcyn pushed himself into a sitting position, then scowled as he caught sight of the dark, twisted trees around him. Trees that lined an equally screwed-up, bleak landscape.

  “Hey, Blaise … Why the hell are we in Val Sans Retour?”

  Yeah. Urian rose slowly.

  Sitting up immediately, Medea scowled. “The what?”

  Falcyn let out another groan before he answered. “The Valley of No Return. So named because no one ever comes out of here alive. Like Blaise … because I really am going to kill him as soon as I find my strength.”

  “Not true!” Blaise stood and took a defensive position. “I came out alive a few years back when I was here.”

  Falcyn made a rude noise at the reminder of the mandrake’s less-than-stellar adventure.

  Medea stood up and brushed herself off. “Did you?”

  “Yeah.”

  His anger rising, Falcyn went to the mandrake. “But why are we here now, Blaise? How did we get here?”

  Blaise quirked a sarcastic smirk. “Did you sleep through the part where we stepped into a magick portal and were sucked through a vortex?”

  “Don’t make me beat you with my shoe.”

  “Well, I’m just wondering. ’Cause you asked. I mean, you were there, were you not? You didn’t miss that rather large, ghastly light we stepped into, did you?”

  “Yeah, but I have a head injury right now. Maybe a concussion. Thinking some kind of serious brain damage. Definitely trauma of some sort. And a migraine the size of you.”

  Urian broke off Falcyn’s tirade by jerking on his sleeve to get his attention so that he could show him the man who was quickly approaching their group.

  “Who’s that?”

  Urian shrugged. “Don’t know, but she seems to know him.”

  By the look on Blaise’s face, he did, too.

  And they weren’t friends.

  Falcyn narrowed his gaze on him. “Blaise?”

  A tic started in his jaw. “I know that essence when I feel it. It’s—”

  “My brother Brandor!” Brogan shot to her feet and ran to him.

  A tic started in the mandrake’s jaw. “Are they kissing?”

  Medea screwed her face up. “No, but she is hugging him like she hasn’t seen him in a really, really long time.”

  Falcyn cocked his head. “Does kissing his cheek count?”

  Medea popped him on the stomach as Blaise’s expression turned into one of extreme pain. “That’s mean! Don’t torture the poor mandrake!”

  With a fierce grimace, Falcyn and Urian stepped around her to confront Brogan and Brandor. “What’s going on here?”

  Brandor, who was the same height as Falcyn, put himself between Brogan and them. Even though his clothes were ragged and it was obvious he hadn’t been living well, he kept one arm on Brogan as if to protect her while he braced his body to confront them.

  Extremely tall, he had chiseled handsome features.

  Yeah, the fey and demons had a lot in common.

  His long, wavy black hair was matted from having been living in the woods on his own. Yet even so there was still rebellion in those hazel eyes that were so green they all but glowed with an unholy fire. By his predatorial stance, it was obvious he knew how to fight and wasn’t afraid to bleed.

  When he finally spoke, his words shocked Urian.

  “I had Brogan bring you here so that I could speak with you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Brandor tensed, watching them for any hint of a coming attack. “I know you don’t trust me. You’ve no reason to.”

  Brogan finally stepped away from him. She cast a sheepish glance toward Blaise. “I told you it could have been much worse. My brother’s life makes a mockery of mine and my sisters’ combined. To protect me from their fate, Bran gave up the bulk of his powers at puberty—transferred them to me so that I’d be stronger and have more value.”

  Sadness darkened Brandor’s eyes. “I’ve been trying to help Ro for a long time.”

  “So what news do you have to share?” Medea asked.

  “Apollo’s after the goddess Apollymi and intends to use her army of Charonte to kill Acheron and take over the world and Olympus.”

  Urian scowled. That was all well and good, except for one thing. “And the Daimons protecting Apollymi?”

  “Apollo has sent a plague to kill them and the gallu to punish them for their rebellion against him.”

  He looked over at his sister. Well, that explained the foreign illness that was tearing through their ranks. No wonder they couldn’t fight it off.

  Falcyn scratched at his chin. “Why do they want my dragonstone?”

  “It’s the only thing that can stop them.”

  “Yeah, well, they can rot.” Falcyn shook his head. “I’m not about to help any of them.”

  Brandor gave him an arch stare. “Not even to save your own sister?”

  Urian’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Xyn.

  That cold steel hatred returned to Falcyn’s eyes. “Don’t go there.”

  Brandor glanced to Brogan. “I would never taunt anyone with such a cruelty. Family should never be used as a bartering tool. But it’s what they will hold over you and use against you if you don’t do what they want. It’s why I told Ro to bring you here. I know where Sarraxyn is, and I will take you to her before they hurt her to get to you.”

  At the confirmation that he’d been too afraid to ask, Urian felt his knees go weak.

  Xyn was alive.

  For a moment he couldn’t breathe. Those words slammed into him like a physical blow and left him reeling. Dear gods, was it true?

  Even now, he could see her beautiful face. So much so that he barely registered their words.

  “For what price?” Falcyn asked.

  He took his sister’s hand. “You’ve already paid it. You freed my sister from her realm and brought her to me so that I can protect her from her master. I’ll help you free yours from hers. It’s the least I can do.”

  Blaise shook his head. “Bullshit. I don’t believe you.”

  Brogan’s cheeks brightened with color. “You can trust him, Blaise. He’s a good man.”

  “I don’t trust anyone.”

  Urian sighed as he cast his gaze around each of them. “Yeah, I don’t think anyone in this group can judge another for their past deeds.” And he damn sure wasn’t about to let them not give this bastard a shot if he really did have a way to free Xyn.

  If there was any chance to see her again …

  He wanted it.

  “This is all well and good, but let’s not lose sight of the fact that Urian and I aren’t here on a vacation. I need your dragonstone, Falcyn. There’s still the matter of the plague that’s spreading through my people. I can’t watch my parents and best friend die. I’ve had enough of death and I don’t want any more of it.”

  Brandor scowled at her. “You’re the daughter of Stryker?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Apollo.”

  Falcyn narrowed his eyes on Brandor. “How much have you heard?”

  “Everything.”

  “Well, if you know so much, any idea why we can’t turn into dragons right now?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Blaise? Can you open the portal out of here?”

  “My key doesn’t work here.”

  Falcyn looked at him. “Urian?”

  He made the sound of a warning buzzer. “Try again, Ringo.”

  Without a word to them, Blaise headed for the trees. “Sylph?”

  One of the reddish-brown trees in a twisted form awakened to look at them. Blaise jumped away with a curse.

  “What is it?” Urian asked.

  Transforming into a bleeding, demonic body, the sylph advanced on them with a round of cursing and hissing.

  Blaise turned pale before he grabbed Brogan to pull her back from the tree. “She’s a gallu! Run!”

  Light and sound exploded all around. It was as if the entire forest had come alive to consume them. Or at least tear them down. Everything was blowing up like some kind of sick heavy-metal light show.

  They scattered into the fields.

  For hours Urian and Blaise, with Brogan and Bran, searched for Falcyn and Medea. And as every minute passed, he worried more about Medea being alone with Falcyn. Though to be honest, he didn’t know what concerned him most.

  The fact that they might get along.

  Or that they might kill each other.

  But the one thing that weighed heaviest in his thoughts …

  “Brandor?”

  “Aye?”

  “What you said about Xyn? Is it true? Is she a statue?”

  He looked offended by Urian’s question. “Why would I lie about that?”

  “To manipulate Falcyn.”

  Blaise slowed as the air around him became statically charged. “That’s not why you’re asking, Daimon.”

  Urian threw up his own shields to keep the dragon from reading his thoughts.

  But it was too late, judging by the intensity of Blaise’s stare. “Why did you never tell us that you knew her?”

  Urian flinched at the way he said knew. “To what purpose? I thought she was …” He couldn’t say the word “dead.” The pain was too much for it, even now.

  Brogan reached out to touch Urian’s arm. “You love her.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “Time doesn’t harm love. Love conquers all.”

  Urian scoffed. “Love doesn’t conquer all. Only a quick sword does that.”

  Brogan wrinkled her nose at him. “You can’t lie to a kerling, my sweet. We see straight through you.” She glanced over to her brother. “And Brandor isn’t lying. I would tell you if he were. Especially about this. No one should hurt for love.”

  Urian inclined his head respectfully to her. She had a beautiful heart, and those things were rare enough that he knew to cherish the few people who managed to have them. “Thank you.”

  Even so, Urian was afraid to let himself hope. To dream. He’d lived so long now without either that he didn’t know how to anymore.

  He’d learned to function in a state of comfortably numb where nothing touched him anymore. As he often joked with Davyn, “Behold my fallow fields of the fucks I do not give.”

  Yeah, that was his current real estate, and he liked that address where pain didn’t reside within him. Where agony didn’t claim a permanent part of his soul.

  And yet, even now if he closed his eyes, his skin tingled from the sweetest memories of Xyn’s touch. His heart lightened at the prospect of hearing her laughter.

  Seeing her vibrant green eyes light up when she saw him.

  No one had ever made him feel like she did.

  Strange how all the women of his life had played vastly different roles. Xanthia had used and kicked him. Sheba had treated him like a pet to be pampered and played with. Phoebe had loved and needed him and been dependent on him for her very survival. She had made him feel like some mythic hero.

  And Xyn? She had stood at his side as an equal warrior. She had been his best friend.

  He’d loved them all, but only Xanthia had ever taught him animosity because of her treachery and betrayal.

  Brogan took his hand. “Are you all right?”

  Urian swallowed hard against the raw fear and hope that choked him. Honestly? He hadn’t been all right in a long time. And this new surge of bullshit after having buried his emotions for so long was really the last thing he needed. Especially right now. But he wasn’t one to confide his feelings to anyone. Never mind someone he just met. “Sure.”

  The light in her eyes said that she knew better. Still, she smiled kindly. “If you say so.” Squeezing his hand, she returned to Blaise to help him walk.

  And Urian moved to stand near Brandor and keep him from harming Blaise for being so close to his sister. “I know, brother. Just remember, when we find Medea and Falcyn, you have to return the favor before I rip the dick off that bastard.”

  Brandor choked. “Pardon?”

  “You heard me. Every time Falcyn looks at her, it takes everything I have not to do something completely suicidal.”

  Fetch me Maddor. I don’t care what whore you have to pry him off, bring him to me within the quarter hour or it’s your balls I’ll be dining on!” The fey bitch shoved him away, then headed away.

  The captain of the guards turned on his companions with a hiss. “You heard her! Fetch the mandrake!”

  “Fuck you.” Varian du Fey slid his knife straight into the lung of the bastard in front of him and held him upright until he stopped struggling. Only then did he use his powers to remove all traces of the fey’s existence.

  “Damn, V. That’s so cold.”

  Wiping the blood off on the sleeve of his jerkin, he sneered at his hellhound companion. “Oh, like you wouldn’t have bitten his throat out, then licked your own balls.”

  “Probably the former, but never the latter. Too many others willing to do that for me.” Kaziel grinned at him. “At any rate, killing an Adoni on an errand for your mother seems a bit reckless when we’re supposed to be keeping a low profile. And to think Aeron and Nick accuse me of being rash.”

  “You are rash, my friend. So rash, it’s actually creeping down your neck.”

  “Those are the hives I get from being this close to you when you’re doing something profoundly stupid.” Kaziel glanced down the hallway to make sure no one else was around. “Damn shame to be this near to your mother and she didn’t recognize you.”

  “You’ve no idea. But I wouldn’t put anything past her. The main thing for now is that we find Blaise and let him know what’s going on. You go find them.”

  Kaziel hesitated. “What about you?”

  “We still need more information. I’m after the dragons to see why my mother was so insistent on them, and especially Maddor. That’s not like her. Which means there’s something peculiar there and I intend to find out what.”

  Kaziel inclined his head to him. As he started away, Varian grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a dark alcove.

  They’d barely vanished into the curtained shadows before two men came down the hallway, grumbling. They paused right in front of their hiding spot so that they could examine each other. “You don’t think we’re infected, do you?”

  The dark-haired fey bit his lip. “I hope not. They’re feeding the infected to the gallu.”

  Cursing, they went on their way.

  Varian didn’t move for several heartbeats as he digested that news. “Damn you, Apollo.”

  Something cold brushed against Varian. Quicker than he could think, he drew his dagger and lunged.

  The shadow beside him solidified into a man who quickly disarmed him and tsked. “Careful, coz. I require dinner before someone daggers me.”

  He rolled his eyes at the shadowborn demon who had eyes of steel. And like his very soul, his shoulder-length hair that he wore pulled back into a short ponytail was neither light nor dark, but strands of varying shades that were trapped squarely between his two dueling natures. Shadow was fearless as a rule, and he was the most evil thing that stalked the darkness and called the deadliest night home. “Careful, demon. You tread on treacherous ground to be sneaking up on me.”

  “Sorry about that. But I’m here to let you know Apollo’s closing the noose around the dragons, trying to get the dragonstone before Helios. Otherwise, all is lost.”

  “I already knew that.”

  Shadow growled at him. “I saved your life. Let’s not forget the good part.”

  “Are you done harassing me?”

  “Not even close.” He flashed a cocky grin at Varian. “I’m also here for your portal key.”

  Varian laughed. Until he realized it wasn’t a joke. “Are you crazy?” Without a key, he’d be trapped here.

  “Probably. But our friends have no way to walk through the portals, back to their world.”

  “Can’t you get them through on your own?”

  He shook his head. “Shadow walkers can only pass through alone. Without a key, they’d be trapped and forced to wave at me on the other side.”

  “Well, that sucks.”

  “More than you know.” Shadow held his hand out. “Give it up.”

  Grumbling, Varian pulled the dragon key from around his neck and handed it over. “How am I supposed to get back?”

  After pocketing the key, Shadow clapped him on the arm. “You’re resourceful. Surely you’ll think of something. I hear that you’re good in a crisis.”

  “You’re such a bastard.”

  “’Course I am. Suckled on the tit of all evil itself.”

  There was never any shaming the rank demon. He thrived on insults for some unknown reason.

  Disgruntled and annoyed, Varian sighed. “And here I thought you were some master thief who could steal a key from anyone you wanted.”

  “I can. Unfortunately, they tend to miss such an item quickly and form a search party for it. Last thing we need is them finding our comrades before us. If Falcyn’s stone falls into our enemies’ hands …”

  There was that.

  And Varian’s stomach tightened at the thought. Shadow was right and he knew it.

  Which also made him think of something else. “Question?”

  “Not an oracle, but you’re free to attempt it.”

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