“Come to me anytime you need to,” she whispered in his ear. “I will always have a safe place for you, my precious baby.”
Urian nodded. “I love you, Mata.”
She tightened her arms around his shoulders. “And I love you more, my Urimou.” Kissing his cheek, she let go and stepped over to Paris.
Paris drew a ragged breath as she straightened his chalmys and repinned it with his fibula. “My child … you’ve never learned to properly drape a cloak.”
His brother smiled down at her. “If I did so, you wouldn’t feel useful.”
With a wistful smile, she smoothed it down with her hand. “You will watch over Urian for me? Make sure the others don’t hurt him?”
“You know I will. He gets on my nerves, but he is my twin. Besides, Davyn likes him better than me most days, anyway.”
She laughed at that. “Where is Davyn?”
“Outside with the wives.”
“Good. I didn’t want to leave without seeing him.”
Sick to his stomach, Urian stood back while she finished saying her good-byes and waited for the next wave of hell he knew would be unleashed.
It came a few minutes later, as expected. The instant his father announced who’d be escorting their mother to her new home in the human realm.
“All right, Urian. You have six hours to see her settled. I expect you back long before dawn.”
Archie cursed and sputtered in outrage. “Why does Urian get to go and not one of us?”
“The goddess willed it so.”
“It’s not fair!”
The look on their father’s face would have quelled anyone with a brain.
Sadly, Archie was missing that vital organ as he continued complaining.
Finally, their father cut him off with one sharp glower. “And I don’t care, Archimedes. Now step aside and let them leave.”
Urian sighed at the glares he collected as he and Trates, along with two other Daimons, left through the shimmering portal with his mother.
Out of the four of them, he was the only one who could command the limani portals that led to and from Kalosis. A gift not from their father as the others all assumed, but from Apollymi herself when he’d been a boy. Oddly enough, his father hadn’t questioned why the goddess had bestowed it upon him. Rather he accepted it without comment.
Urian had never asked when Apollymi told his father about that gift, and his father hadn’t volunteered it. Instead, his father had just accepted the fact that one day Urian had shown up with the key to open the portals and not once had they spoken about the what-for or why.
But then his father was good at that. Especially when it came to the gods. Stryker barely questioned anything the gods did.
Not wanting to think about that, Urian closed his eyes as they fell through the vast nothingness that bridged the worlds together. He hated traveling this way. It left him disoriented and sick to his stomach. But it was the only way to leave Kalosis.
When they finally arrived and stepped out into the dark human world, it was near a small, stone cottage on the edge of a majestic Greek cliff. A huge full moon lit the olive-scented landscape with buttery shadows that danced across a dark, crested sea. Because it’d been so long since she last saw anything more than the dull, dreary gray of their realm, his mother gasped. Tears filled her eyes.
“Mata?”
She placed her hand on his shoulder as the wind blew her pale blue veil from her hair so that her blond curls sprang free from her braids. “I’m all right, Uri. They’re tears of joy that your father remembered the details of my home from when I was a girl. It looks just as I told him so many times.”
Grateful that she was happy, he carried her case toward the small cottage door. It was nestled in the midst of a good-sized farm that should sustain her quite well. There were apple trees aplenty, along with a small vineyard and livestock. He could hear the cows that would easily provide her with the milk she loved to drink that had been so hard for them to procure for her in Kalosis.
He headed to the cottage and opened the wooden door for her, then pushed it wide with his elbow.
She went in to inspect her new home while he waited outside and set her case on the ground at his feet.
The Daimons who’d come along to help secure her moved to stand at his side so that they could peer inside the cottage. “May we come in, akra?”
She turned toward them with a smile.
“Nay!” Urian snapped the moment his mother opened her mouth to say aye.
The smile on her face died instantly.
As did the joy.
He quickly tempered the anger in his tone as he used his foot to push her case through the threshold. “Never invite a Daimon or Apollite into your home, Mata. Remember that you are always safe inside the doorway. We cannot enter so long as you haven’t granted us permission to be there.” Another curse of his grandfather to ensure that they couldn’t go where the gods didn’t want them.
Something that left all of them feeling even more unwanted and outcast than they already did. All it did was ram home that they were less than humans. Less than animals. In the eyes of the gods, his people were the lowliest of life forms, unfit for even the most basic form of shelter or care.
Their lot in the world was to be spurned and ridiculed throughout their absurdly short lives.
“But, Urian—”
“Nay, Mata.” Tears choked him at a necessity he hated that would keep him from his mother forever. Yet it was for her protection. “Not even I’m worth it. We will meet elsewhere when I come to visit. I beg you to keep your home safe. From all of us. Even me.”
Because the truth was that when the hunger was bad enough, when the day came and he went Daimon, she wouldn’t be safe even around him and he knew it. No human soul could ever be safe near a Daimon.
No matter how much they loved them.
Tears flowed down her cheeks as she realized that he had no intention of ever staying with her. That he didn’t trust himself not to give in to the Daimon that he would one day become. She returned to stand outside with him. “I will miss you so much! Won’t you stay?”
He crushed her against his chest, wishing to the gods that he could. “I have no way to eat here.” It would be even more difficult than it’d been for her to eat in Kalosis. At least there, the Charonte and Apollymi had shared his mother’s diet. There had been a variety of food for her to choose from. Maybe not milk, but most other things had been in abundance.
An Apollite or Daimon in the human realm was only asking for trouble as they needed another of their kind to feed them.
His mother glanced over to Trates and the others. “Your father didn’t wait until his twenty-seventh birthday to turn Daimon. Can’t you turn early?”
“Mata,” he chided, “I’m too young. And I’d still need to feed.” Not to mention, he could turn trelos—the Daimon madness that caused them to kill indiscriminately. If he did that here, she would never be able to stop him from harming her. As a human, she was too weak and tiny.
The thought of destroying his own mother was more than he could stand.
With a ragged sigh, she nodded. “I just hate the way they treat you in Kalosis, and I blame myself for it.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m human. I keep thinking that if I’d been an Apollite, too, you wouldn’t be different and they wouldn’t spurn you so. You should be married …”
Urian shook his head. “Mata, don’t.”
“Don’t what? Worry about my son? Telling a mother not to worry about her son, Urian, is like telling someone not to breathe.”
He laughed. “I shall be fine. I swear.”
“And I shall worry about you, every minute of every day that I live. But with that worry, know that I love you ten times more.”
“I know. Just as I love you, too.” He glanced over his shoulder to where the others waited. “You should go in and make sure you have everything you need. I’ll wait here until I see you lig
ht the fire. Solren said that he’d arranged for servants to come on the morrow. They’ll bring food and supplies and everything you need.”
His father hadn’t wanted those servants to be here on her arrival for fear that they might realize Urian and the others were Apollites and Daimons, and harm her for it.
These days, too many Apollites preyed upon the humans just for shits and giggles. After Apollo’s curse and the destruction of Atlantis, those who’d managed to survive had taken a sick pleasure in rampaging against the Greek humans in an all-out frenzy.
While human blood couldn’t sustain or feed them, it slaked their thirst for vengeance and sated their need to strike back at the gods who’d cursed them. Not to mention the crazed trelos Daimons who were insane killing machines. Without conscience or restraint, they didn’t care who they tore apart. Their basic motto was, “Give me somebody.”
The treli wreaked such havoc as to spawn all manner of grandiose stories and legends among the human populations about Apollites and Daimons. It went a long way in spreading fear and suspicion, too.
For their melees and sprees alone, it was a wonder the humans hadn’t been on an eternal quest to exterminate them all.
His mother glanced over to the others. “Could you please step away so that I might have a moment alone with my son?”
Trates and the others moved off.
Taking Urian’s hand, she switched to Greek so as to give them even more privacy from what the others might overhear. “I know that your feedings bother you.”
“Mata …” He tried to pull away, but she held him in place with a grip so firm that the only way to break free would have caused her harm, and that he refused to do.
“Listen to me, Uri. I know how much this embarrasses you. That you haven’t had a live feeding since you hit puberty …” She cupped his cheek and forced him to look at her, even though he was mortified by this topic.
And she was right. Because of the color of his eyes and the fear the other Apollites had of him and his father and grandfather, no one was willing to pair with him in any way. They were terrified of what other defects he might carry.
“There is nothing wrong with you. You’re a good boy. A wonderful son. Your father and I are so proud of you. And one day, you will find a woman who sees that, too.”
He swallowed hard as pain choked him. It was a deep-rooted misery that had planted itself firmly inside his soul long ago and wouldn’t let go no matter how hard he tried to pry it loose. “I was born a twin, Mata, and yet I feel so alone. Shouldn’t I feel as if I’m part of something?”
She tsked at him. “You were born almost an hour apart. Unlike Paris, you wanted to come into this world feet first. You were most insistent upon it, in fact. Took an act of the goddess to get you to change your mind and reverse yourself so that I could birth you. And then you wouldn’t feed. But for Apollymi, we would have lost you that first day. The goddess knows, you’ve been stubborn every day since. Like your father, you’ve always wanted to do things on your own terms, with a courage I envy you for. Never lose that. Especially given what you’ll be facing, all too soon.”
Her pale eyes turned serious. “I pray every night that your father finds another way to end this curse Apollo has placed on you and your siblings. I curse all the gods for it, and for the fact that they do nothing to help you. Damn them!”
He gaped at the venom in her tone. Never had she used such language or raised her voice while speaking of the gods before. His mother had always been a gentle, kind soul.
Unless someone threatened her children or they broke a rule. Then she could make his father look weak.
“Life isn’t fair and it’s been exceptionally cruel to my children. But don’t let it sour you. No matter what, Urimou. Enjoy every breath you have, whether a handful or billions. You fight for every one. And when others seek to knock you down, you rise up and know that only you can defeat you. Never give anyone power over you, not for any reason.”
Nodding, he led her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I will come visit as often as I can.” He meant that, and he prayed it was a promise he could keep. Though he never intended to stay long or step inside her house, he could come and see her from time to time.
“I’ll be here. You know I will and my hearth will always be warm and waiting for you.”
Just as his heart would always heat up with warmth for her.
Urian reluctantly let go and watched as she went inside and closed the door. The latch fell with an echoing sound of finality that cut deep to his soul.
His throat tightened even more as he waited for her to get the fire started. And with every heartbeat, he ached more, hoping he could keep his promise and that he would see her again.
But the life of an Apollite was an uncertain thing. Especially whenever they ventured into the land of the humans. Those who’d made it down to Kalosis had come with terrifying tales of the war between their two races. Of entire Apollite villages being raided during daylight hours where the humans would drag them out into daylight, just to watch them burn.
Humans weren’t content to let them die at twenty-seven. They wanted them gone completely. Their age didn’t matter. Apollite infants had been seized from their cradles and thrown from city walls to sizzle and die beneath the sun they’d been banned from. Suffocated in their cribs. Drowned.
Or worse.
Their women and children had been tied to Apollo’s outdoor altars and left in the sun to blister and die at dawn. The men had been beheaded and ritually sacrificed like animals for slaughter.
Unbelievable stories of horror abounded. Just when Urian thought they couldn’t get any worse, someone came in with one that topped the last one he’d heard.
And it was nothing compared to what the Greeks did to the humans they found who helped his people. He couldn’t imagine what they’d do to his mother for birthing them.
Trates came forward as he rejoined his men. “Are you all right, kyrios?”
He blinked at the question. Like all the Apollites and Daimons in Kalosis, Trates called him “my lord” in Atlantean. A formality his father insisted upon.
Urian nodded. “Just worried about my mata.”
The light finally began to cast shadows in the cottage. She pulled back a curtain to wave at him. Even though he knew she couldn’t see him, he returned the gesture.
Summoning a portal, Urian made sure that his voice carried so that the others with him would hear it. “If anyone ever harms her, I will make what the soldiers did to Ryssa of Didymos and her son look like a gentle caress in comparison to the vengeance I will wreak upon them and their families.”
The haste with which they ran into the portal assured him that they not only heard his words, they believed them.
Good. Because he had every intention of carrying them out. His mother might be human, but she was his mother and he would see her safe, no matter what.
Yet as he looked back one last time to see her loving face framed by candlelight, a horrible feeling of dread went through him. Please, don’t let this be a mistake …
And don’t let this be the last time I see my mother.
Heartsick with fretful worry and anxiety, he followed them to Kalosis.
While his men went home, he ventured to the dark garden where no Apollite was allowed to visit. It was a trek he’d been making every week since the night he’d met Sarraxyn.
Yet this wasn’t Hesperus—the time of night when they normally held their meetings. Not that the risk mattered to him tonight. Urian needed his best friend.
His only friend, really. Other than Davyn. But he had to share Davyn with Paris, and though Davyn was a good friend, Urian knew that in the end, Davyn’s loyalty would always lie with Paris above him. As it should.
Xyn was solely his. He shared her with no one else. Ever. She was always there when he needed her, through thick and thin. And he had no idea how he’d have made it through his life without her.
Everyone should have the
ir own pet dragon. Even if she did threaten to eat him about half the time.
And those were the times when he didn’t get on her nerves.
Since he was intruding at an unscheduled hour, he made sure to spread his scent wide, and to make more noise than he normally would.
“Xyn?” he whispered loudly into the darkness, needing her more now than he ever had before. “You there?”
“Where else would I be, Uri? Not like I can hide.”
He froze at her voice coming from an external source. That was a first. He hadn’t known she even had real vocal cords until now.
“So why are you here? ’Tis not Áreos.”
He cleared his throat of the painful knot her question wrought. “My mother left Kalosis tonight, to return to the human realm, and I could really use a friend.”
She appeared by his side. Her scales flowed in the darkness like a vibrant wave that sparkled through the moonless night. You could get us both in so much trouble.
“I know. I’m sorry to be so selfish.” He just couldn’t help it. He needed her.
It’s fine. You’re upset. You shouldn’t be alone when you’re hurting.
And neither should she. Yet she never had anyone around her at all. Not for anything. Urian reached up to cup her jaw and lean against her long, warm neck. He’d never understood why that comforted him the way it did, and yet there was no denying how the mere sensation of her scales against him soothed the beast inside his heart. No one ever made him feel like she did. She was his dearest friend. “I asked Apollymi about freeing you.”
She went still in his arms.
“You were right, Xyn. She didn’t like it.”
I’m surprised you’re still in one piece.
So was he. In fact, Urian cringed at the fury of her violent reaction. “I’m surprised she didn’t feed me to Xedrix. I swear I saw him break out a dish of sauce for it.”
And he had. The goddess’s eyes had turned blood red and her winds had knocked Urian back so fast and furiously, he was amazed every bone in his body hadn’t snapped.
She laughed. Thank you for trying.
“I’m not through. I will find a way to free you yet. It’s not fair for both of us to be cursed here.”
Stygian (The Dark-Hunter World Book 28) Page 7