The physician appeared skeptical.
Styxx brushed his hand across the scars he bore. “Trust me.”
For the first time, the physician nodded. “So it appears, Highness. I need to stitch this and I can’t give you wine to drink.”
Styxx turned his head toward the chest by the window. “Bring me that.”
His father frowned as the physician complied. “What is in it?”
Styxx didn’t answer as the physician returned with it and Styxx dug out the Morpheus root he hadn’t used since Bethany had come back into his life. “Do you know how to prepare this?” he asked the old bald man.
“You heat it, but I don’t know how much to use.”
Styxx pulled out the right amount and handed it off to him so that he could begin the preparations while his father watched with an even deeper frown. Hissing in pain, Styxx clenched his teeth. “It’s a drug, Father. One that won’t take the pain away, but it’ll make me not care that I feel it.”
“How do you know about such things?”
Your perverted brother.
The words hovered on his lips, and were hard to bite back. His father had been blind to Estes, and while it angered him, what good would it do to scream at his father over his abuse now?
He’d killed the bastard and the eternal damage was done. No need to worsen it.
Luckily, the physician returned. Styxx inhaled the herbs and gave them a few minutes to take effect before he nodded at the man to start closing the wound.
Trying to distract himself, Styxx locked gazes with his father whose countenance was a mask of total disbelief.
“It dawns on me that I know very little about your life and even less about you.”
What? Did his father want to play catch-up now? Given the amount of blood loss and pain, Styxx really wasn’t in the mood for a lengthy father-son conversation.
But what really hurt were the memories of Galen standing by him whenever he’d been wounded. In his mind, he saw himself on that day when the wooden spike had torn through his side in Atlantis. Cocky and stupid, Styxx hadn’t been paying attention. But the moment the spike went in, he’d cried out in utter agony. Galen had pulled him back and protected him from their enemies. Too weak to even hold a dagger, Styxx had been completely defenseless.
“I’ve got you, mou gios. Don’t worry. Nothing’s getting through me.”
Even though Styxx was taller, Galen had carried him off the field of battle and held his hand the whole time they’d closed the wound. “Squeeze when it hurts, and don’t worry about breaking anything, Highness. Trust me, if my deceptively strong Thia wasn’t able to break it during her childbirths, there’s no damage you can do. And at least you’re not threatening to cut off my balls, fry them up, and feed them to me.” Only Galen could have made him laugh while in that kind of pain and misery.
Afterward, the old man had gotten him drunk.
Gods, how he missed him.
Damn you, Apollo! Was it not enough that he’d killed Galen? Why torture Ryssa, too? She already held more than her fair share of hatred for him—why would Apollo worsen it?
I should have just fucked him and got it over with.
Not that it would have mattered. Had he given in, Ryssa would have seen a lot more than him trying to fight Apollo off. Maybe in time she’d calm down and realize what was really going on.
Who are you kidding? Ryssa would never take his side in any matter.
Once the physician was finished and had cleaned Styxx’s wound thoroughly, his father called for the guards to help him to bed.
“It’s not necessary,” Styxx said, amazed that his speech wasn’t slurred. “I can do it.” Grinding his teeth against the pain that came through in spite of his drug, he pushed himself up and stumbled into bed. His head reeling, he lay there, trying to get the room to stop spinning.
He heard the sound of his father nearing his bed. “Is any of what Ryssa said about you and Apollo true?”
Opening his eyes, Styxx gave him a vacuous stare. His father really wanted to go into this right now?
What the Hades? Why not? It wasn’t like Styxx was suffering in agony or anything.
Too high to care or hold back, he blinked at his father. “Yes, Apollo has buggered me. Repeatedly. No, I didn’t instigate it. I damn sure never enjoyed it. And I really wish she’d keep him inside her so the bastard would leave me alone.”
For once, his father didn’t remark on his crudity. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
If he didn’t know better, he’d swear his father was on something, too. “I believe your exact words were for me to suck his balls and cock, and to bend over and take it wherever Apollo wanted to shove it so long as I kept him happy for you.”
His father looked as horrified and ill as Styxx had been when the bastard had said it to him. I didn’t mean it.
Little late for that thought.
“How long has it been going on?” his father asked.
“Since you put me in the Dionysion when I was a boy.”
The color faded from his father’s face. “I don’t understand.”
“They invoked the gods, Father,” he said bitterly. “So they came for me … in more ways than one.”
“Is that why you hate me so?”
“It certainly didn’t endear you to me, and neither is this fucking conversation. For the love of Olympus, Father, I’ve been stabbed by your daughter and it hurts. I just want to bleed and suffer in peace and silence, if that’s not too much to ask? So please, have mercy on me for once in my wretched life.”
“Forgive me.” He finally left.
Drawing a ragged breath, Styxx stared at his saddlebags and cursed the Fates who’d forced him to stay another night.
“And you believe that lie, Father? Really?” He flinched at Ryssa’s strident tone that carried plainly through his walls.
His father’s reply was an unintelligible rumble.
“He’s a liar. How can you not see that? He’s always been a covetous liar since the day he was born. He couldn’t stand that I had Apollo so he threw himself at him. You didn’t see what I saw when I walked in on them. He was pressing Apollo’s hands against his body parts. It was disgusting!” Her accusations went on, gaining ludicrousness with every one.
“I wish you’d let me kill him. It’s what he deserves. How am I supposed to be with Apollo now, knowing he’s slept with my brother? The brother I hate with every part of my being! How can I ever sit down at a table again with either of them, knowing what they’ve done to me behind my back? If this were in reverse and I’d slept with his whore, you’d have me whipped and exiled for it. Yet you intend to let him get away with this like he’s gotten away with everything else in his spoiled rotten life. It’s not fair!”
Was it too much to ask that his father pull the bitch to the other end of the palace so that he didn’t have to listen to her jealous stupidity?
Unable to cope with any more insults and accusations that burned to the core of his soul, he reached for his chest and pulled out a sack full of herbs then he dumped them into a goblet of wine. He wasn’t supposed to be drinking with this wound, but fuck it. Let him die. And if his stomach hurt, maybe that pain would be enough to distract his thoughts from his sister’s extremely loud and ridiculous condemnation.
Gulping it down, he grimaced the moment the wine and herbs hit his stomach and made it cramp and burn in protest. For a second, he feared he’d be ill.
Yet within a few moments, it had him so disoriented that his sister’s diatribe and screams became meaningless words that eventually lulled him to sleep.
But as he started dozing, his mind tried to fight it. For some reason, it wanted him alert. His instincts were trying to tell him something. Unfortunately, he was too far gone to comprehend the warning.
June 25, 9527 BC
Just After Midnight
Styxx opened his eyes, but he was still too disoriented to make sense of what had awakened him.
; Several seconds later, he heard his nephew crying. Then silence. That must have been what had jerked him from his sleep. Apollodorus still wasn’t sleeping through the night. It was nothing for his nephew to wake him up at strange intervals.
And soon that would be the sound of his own son waking him. He couldn’t wait.
But he knew better than to try to help out with Ryssa’s child. Especially after today’s fiasco.
Only Acheron had those privileges.
Forget it. Don’t waste time thinking about them and their hatred. Tomorrow he’d be on his way to Bethany and nothing would stop him.
* * *
Bethany woke up in a cold sweat. Her stomach burned with indigestion while her son played and bounced happily inside her. Rolling to her left side, she placed her hand over him. “You have got to stop kicking me, little bit. I can’t sleep with you frolicking so.”
He brushed a foot or hand against her touch as if he knew she was talking to him.
“You’re smarting back to me already.… What am I going to do with you, boy?”
But she knew. She’d love him with every part of her being.
An instant later, sadness stole her smile as she missed having Styxx beside her in bed. If he were here, he’d be pressed up against her back and cradling her with his long hard naked body. He’d have his arm draped across her hip so as not to hurt her or the baby, and his muscled masculine thigh would be resting between hers. Best of all, his face would be buried in her hair. She still didn’t know how he could sleep like that and not feel suffocated by it. Yet he never complained.
Bethany!
She jerked at her mother’s shrill call.
Please, daughter! I need to see you.
Tempted to ignore her, she felt her son kick again. How could she turn her back on her own mother now that she understood motherhood more than she ever had before? Besides, after tomorrow, she’d be human and she wouldn’t have any way whatsoever to go to her mother on her own.
Sighing, she summoned clothes for her body and teleported herself from her Egyptian temple to the main hall on Katateros where her mother waited with the others.
Complete silence rang out at her appearance as every pair of eyes stared at her distended stomach.
She gave them all a droll smirk, irritated that they’d only just now realized her condition. “Yes, gods, I’m pregnant. Now what do you need?”
Her jaw completely slack, her mother approached her slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was planning to once this mess blew over. Since all of you were so concerned about Apollymi, I didn’t want to distract you.”
Archon glared at her. “Who’s the father?”
“A mortal. Not that it’s any of your concern.”
Their collective derision didn’t endear them to her.
Bethany curled her lip. “Hence why I didn’t want to come here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d rather be with my family members who aren’t such snobs.”
Her mother gently touched her arm before she could leave. “Pay them no attention, child. I, for one, am thrilled to be a grandmother, immortal or not. Especially to such a strong boy.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Thank you, Matera. Now why did you call me?”
“Apollymi is summoning her army and expanding it. We know she’s about to attack and we wanted everyone to be prepared.”
Chara nodded grimly. “We’ve been told she’s planning to move in three days. We’re fortifying, and now that we know you’re expecting, you’d best stay in Egypt where your father and the others can protect you from her.”
“But before you leave…” Her mother took her hand and led her from the hall to the temple her mother was sharing with Agapa while Apollymi was confined to the palace her mother used to call home. “I would like a few more details about my grandson and his father.”
Thus the real reason Bethany had gone into hiding once she could no longer disguise her pregnancy. How could she tell her family that Styxx of Didymos was the father? Especially since she was the only member of the entire Atlantean pantheon who didn’t want to plant a sword through his heart.
And whenever she thought about that, she wanted their blood over what they had done to him.
“There’s not much to tell, Matera. He’s the Greek I’ve been in love with for several years now.”
“Hector?”
Bethany was surprised her mother remembered the name. Then again …
Symfora was her mother, and she did love her.
Bethany rubbed her hand over her stomach. She’d never be able to forget anything about her child either. “Yes, it’s my Hector.”
Which wasn’t a lie.
Her mother smiled. “I’m so happy for you. There is nothing sweeter than holding your baby for the first time. And then to watch it grow…” Tears glistened in her eyes as she brushed a strand of hair back from Bethany’s face. “You’ve no idea how much love I have for you, Bet. How proud I am of you. I know you’re centuries old and yet, whenever I look at you, I still see this adorable little baby with curls flying everywhere and chubby cheeks and gold eyes that melt my heart every time I look into them. And what I miss most are those times when you’d be afraid and you’d run to me and hide your little face in my shoulder.” She touched Bethany’s stomach. “And now you’ll know that feeling, too. So have you thought of a name for him?”
She barely caught herself before she answered. They planned to name him Galen, but if she said the name, her mother might recognize it. “We’re not sure yet.”
“Well whatever you decide, I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
She paused as she watched her mother gathering her weapons. “Matera? I’ve been thinking. Since I’ll be in Egypt for a while, why don’t you use my temple here?”
Her mother kissed her brow without answering. “I have missed you so, my heart.”
“Me, too.”
She put her hands on Bethany’s shoulders. “May I be selfish? Would you spend tonight with me? You can always go back to Egypt in the morning.”
Bethany hesitated. Tomorrow she needed to visit Ma’at about the serum and she wanted to watch over Styxx as he made his way to her.
But what would it hurt to stay one last night with her mother? Had she not been pregnant, she might have left. As it was, she couldn’t bring herself to go. Not while her mother looked at her like that and she understood a mother’s love. “All right, but what about Apollymi?”
“You’ll be long gone before she launches her plans. For one night, let’s be as we used to. Just the two of us and our teas.”
Bethany smiled. It’d been a ritual since she was a child. Whenever she’d returned home from her father’s, her mother would sequester her for two days of uninterrupted “girl time.” As much as she loved and adored her father, she’d treasured those times most of all. It was always so nice to not have to share her mother with anyone. Her father had done a similar thing whenever she’d go to visit him. He’d drive her across the desert, straight into the heart of his domain, and they’d hunt in his private preserve. Just the two of them and no one else. It was why her bow meant so much to her. Her father had given her that bow the first time she’d visited him in Egypt.
Unlike Styxx, she’d been fortuitous with her parents. The only thing they’d competed over was trying to show her how much they loved and supported her. How much they missed her whenever she was gone from them.
It was something she was going to spend the rest of eternity teaching to Styxx and their son, and all their future children.
Taking her mother’s hand, she led her to her temple. “Matera? Would you be upset if I told you something?”
“You can tell me anything. You know that.”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone else?”
“Of course.”
“I have Aunt Ma’at working on a concoction that will make me mortal.”
Her mother froze. “What?”
She nodded. “I’ve thou
ght about it long and hard. I don’t want to live eternity without my husband.”
“You love him that much?”
“He is everything to me.”
“And you are everything to me, child. Could we not make him immortal?”
“I don’t think that would please him. And I don’t want us to be torn apart by pantheon politics. I’m through with it.”
Her mother closed her eyes and winced. “I can’t say that your decision pleases me. But it doesn’t displease me either. I just want you happy.”
“This will make me very happy.”
“Can I be there when you transform?”
And this was why she loved her mother so. “Absolutely.”
“Then come, Bet. Let us celebrate your new life and your new baby.”
June 25, 9527 BC
Styxx woke up to a vicious headache. His stomach pitched, but settled as soon as he sat up. However, the room spun like a whirlwind around him. He leaned back against the wall then pulled the bandage back from his stomach to examine the wound Ryssa had given him. While it continued to sting and was extremely sore, it was much better.
Once he washed and dressed, he’d be able to leave. Thank the gods for some small favors.
On unsteady feet, he quickly prepared himself for his trip. Not even his nosebleed was going to stop him. He only paused long enough to grab his saddlebags and a cloth for his nose.
“Antio,” he said with bitter sarcasm to the room and palace, bidding them all his final adieu. He would say good-bye to his family, if he’d had some to leave. As it was, the sooner he got out of here, the happier he’d be.
But as he walked toward the stairs, he saw something strange leaking out from beneath Ryssa’s door. He started to ignore it then stopped.
Something wasn’t right.
Ryssa should still be screaming over the injustice done to her. Yet there wasn’t a single sound and it was close to midday. Not even Apollodorus seemed to be awake.
And as he neared the door to see the red liquid, he realized he couldn’t hear their thoughts either.
He stood outside the door, staring at the blood on the floor, as a thousand emotions speared him at once. Panic, trepidation, anger, but it was grief that overwhelmed him. Because he knew what had to be on the other side of the closed door.
Styxx (DH #33) Page 63