Styxx (DH #33)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Styxx laughed. “He loved you.”

  “Yeah, to the day he cut my throat. I’ve never understood it. After Darius died, I adopted his son and daughter who were toddlers at the time. When Ida and Mylinus died, it about killed me. I can’t imagine ever getting so mad at them that I’d do something like that, and they weren’t technically mine.” The anguish in his eyes pierced Styxx’s heart. “How do you cut your own son’s throat?”

  “I don’t know, Uri. I’ve never understood it, either. When I was just a boy, my own mother tried to kill me for giving her a birthday present. She stabbed me I don’t know how many times.”

  Urian’s eyes widened with incredulity. “Your mother?”

  He nodded. “Ryssa, too.”

  “Stabbed you?”

  Styxx took a drink of his milk before he responded. “Ryssa gutted me the day before she died.”

  “What’d you do?” The way Urian asked the question, it was almost comical.

  Unfortunately, he’d done nothing to them. “She attacked me over your grandfather.”

  “Apollo? Why?”

  Styxx flinched at the memory. “Jealousy.” A shiver of revulsion ran through him. “She stupidly thought I was trying to seduce him as a lover to take his attention from her.”

  “Ew!”

  “Believe me, I couldn’t agree more. No offense, but I hate your grandfather with every part of me. Just being in a room with him makes my skin crawl and my stomach turn.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to defend him. I personally think he’s a rank, sorry, selfish son of a whore.” Urian’s phone rang. He looked down and checked the ID. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” He got up and left the room while Styxx finished off his food. By the sudden exit, he assumed the call must be from Acheron.

  Urian came back a few minutes later while Styxx was cleaning up. “I have to head out. AOM later?”

  “Sure.”

  Urian held his hand out to him. When Styxx took it, he pulled him into a brotherly embrace with their hands between their chests. Without another word, Urian vanished.

  Styxx finished his chores then went to get his sketchbook. He flipped through the pages, touching the faces of his past that always haunted him. He stopped on the image of Bethany with their baby. It was just like his dream. She sat in a field, on a blanket, cuddling his son. And now he knew these images were what had fed his hallucination.

  The boy he’d held wasn’t real.

  And Bethany was gone. He should have known it was all a dream by the mere fact that Bethany had been able to see them. But he’d been so grateful and happy that he hadn’t questioned that small miracle.

  A single tear slid from the corner of his eye. Styxx brushed it away and sighed. He was so tired now. More tired than he’d ever been before.

  He remembered a time, long, long ago, when he’d known his destiny. Known who and what he was.

  Now …

  I belong nowhere.

  Worse, he belonged to no one.

  In that moment, he knew what he needed to do. It was time he took his life back, such as it was. He might have lost sight of things for a while, but at the end of the day, he was a fighter. It was all he knew. And he was tired of other people making decisions about his existence. From this moment forward, he was on his own. And he was going to find some place where no one would ever again control or imprison him. Some place where he was comfortable. Some place where he belonged.

  January 24, 2009

  Urian tried to call Styxx again, and again it rolled to voicemail. Afraid Styxx might have slipped into another coma, Urian flashed himself to Styxx’s condo.

  He knew the minute he materialized that something wasn’t right. Everything about the condo felt off. But glancing around, he saw nothing out of place.

  “Styxx?”

  No one answered.

  He quickly searched the condo, to find it empty. This time when he went into Styxx’s bedroom, he saw that Styxx had pulled out the sketchbook page of him and Phoebe, and left it on top of his desk with a folded note. Fear cinched his gut as he opened it and read.

  Urian,

  You’re the only one who will notice that I’m not here. Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything particularly stupid. I just don’t want to live in a world I don’t understand anymore.

  When I find my place and the peace I need to function, I’ll be in touch. Until then, take care, my brother. And thank you for being my friend.

  S

  Grinding his teeth, Urian wanted to find him and beat the shit out of Styxx for the pain he felt right now, and he didn’t know why he felt it. Why should he care? He barely knew Styxx.

  It must be that they were kindred spirits. Styxx was the only one who really understood about Phoebe. After six years, everyone else had lost patience with his unwillingness to move on and find someone new to love.

  But it wasn’t that easy. Not when you had a past that was so hard to share with another person. One that left you bleeding and vulnerable. It was difficult to open up to anyone because the moment you did, you knew you ran the risk of being hurt worse, and humiliated should they ever tell your secrets, and when you’d been hurt all your life by others …

  There was only so much bravery in any given soul.

  To finally find the courage to trust and to dare lay your heart in the hands of another and then to lose them was the ultimate cruelty. And it was not something you got over. Ever.

  Six years was just a blink of the eye. And apparently so was eleven thousand.

  Urian cleared his throat. “Good luck, brother. I hope when you find a way to sleep through the night and breathe again, you’ll share the secret with me.”

  January 16, 2011

  “This … seriously sucks.”

  Styxx laughed at the sound of Urian’s disgusted voice from outside his tent as his dog started barking to warn him they had a visitor. He calmed the huge brown dog down before he got up. Throwing back the flap, he came out to greet him. “Depends on your vantage point, little brother.”

  Arms akimbo, Urian turned in a circle as he surveyed Styxx’s small black tent and the vast desert that surrounded them as far as the eye could see in all directions. “From mine … you found hell, buddy, except I doubt hell is this hot.”

  Still laughing, Styxx closed the distance between them. “It’s not hot. This is winter. Come back in July or August.”

  “Yeah, no thanks.” Urian hugged him then stood back with a severe frown. “Damn, you’ve gone native. But for the blue eyes, I’d have no idea it was you.”

  Styxx lowered the black veil from his face. “Better?”

  “Not really. Weirds me out more.” He shook his head. “When you called last week and told me you’d been living in the desert for the last two years, I thought you meant Morocco or another city. But you really live out in the middle of Nowhere, Sahara.”

  Styxx shrugged. “This place makes sense to me.”

  “You might like it, but it’s bringing back bad childhood memories. Life before toilet paper was not worth living.”

  “Again, a matter of perspective.”

  Urian appeared doubtful that anyone could like it in the desert. “You look good, by the way. Healthy.”

  “Thanks.” Styxx held the flap open so that Urian could go inside where he had nothing but his bedroll and saddlebags of necessary supplies. “I feel better than I have in a very long time.”

  The big brown dog came bounding in and curled up on Styxx’s bedroll to chew his rawhide bone. Urian arched a brow. “What’s his name?”

  “Skylos.”

  He scowled at Styxx. “You named your dog … Dog? Seriously?”

  Again, Styxx shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “Probably because he doesn’t speak Greek.”

  Grinning, Styxx pulled out a bottle of wine and the only two cups he had and poured drinks for them.

  Urian took a sip. “So what do you call the horse and camel? Alogo and Kamila
?”

  Styxx rolled his eyes. “No, they had names when I bought them. Jabar and Wasima. The dog just started following after me one day.”

  Urian sighed heavily. “I’d go insane here. How do you cope with the solitude?”

  “That was what I had to make peace with. All my life, I hated being alone. After we freed Soteria, it dawned on me that I had to make a choice. Either be part of the modern world or not.”

  “You chose poorly, my friend.”

  “No, this I understand. It’s the existence I willingly chose on my own. No one incarcerated or dropped me here against my will. Not to mention, I really like not having solid walls that confine me.” And he’d finally come to terms with the fact that he would never be part of a family or group. So long as he was in the vicinity of other people, Styxx had held out hope that Acheron would change his mind or that he’d find a group that would accept him.

  Out here, he’d stopped being one half or part of a whole and had learned to be whole by himself. “But what about you? How have you been?”

  Urian reached for the can of cashews. “Same old, same old. Someone’s always trying to take over the world or end it. Really not looking forward to dealing with 2012 and the crap that’s coming out to play with us.” He laughed as he scanned Styxx from the top of his agal-wrapped black keffiyeh to his desert boots. “It’s really messing with my head how natural you look dressed like a Bedouin. The scimitar and dagger just add to the whole cosplay, Assassin’s Creed thing you got going.”

  Styxx laughed. “I also have a handgun tucked at my back, and a rifle.” He inclined his head over to where it rested near his bedroll. “But the sword doesn’t run out of bullets when bandits attack.”

  “Another thing I tend to forget. You’re human.”

  “There are many who would argue that.”

  Urian didn’t respond. Instead, he opened the backpack he’d brought and handed a dark blue box to Styxx. “I got you something I thought you might like.”

  Styxx set his cup aside to take it and open it. A slow smile curled his lips as he saw four new sketchbooks and a pencil set. “Thank you, very much.”

  “Hey, someone with your talent should never be without. That picture you drew of me and Phoebe … incredible. You nailed her looks and you’ve never even seen her, and I can’t thank you enough for leaving that for me. The only pictures I had of her were the ones in my head. Is that why you started drawing?”

  He carefully tucked his gift away. “I actually started as a kid. It was one of my favorite things to do until Ryssa saw me and thought I was copying her journals. She had one of her more legendary hissy fits and then when she opened it and saw my feeble attempts at drawing, she laughed and ridiculed them, and ran straight to my father to tell him I’d been wasting my study time and precious parchment on stupidity. He didn’t take it well. He made me burn my sketches and had me whipped. Then he made me earn back all the money I’d squandered on wasting good parchment for foolishness. After that wonderful experience, I had such an aversion to art, I didn’t even want to look at figured pottery.”

  “Then how did you learn to draw like that?”

  “Vanishing Isle. I didn’t have paper or pencil, but I did have a lot of sticks and a lot of wet sand, and a shit ton of time. You think I can draw? You should see my sand cities.”

  “You mean sand castles?”

  “Nah, anyone can build a sand castle. I do entire cities, complete with armies and aqueducts.”

  Urian laughed even harder. “I hate to admit it, but I have missed your twisted sense of humor. And I’m stunned you get cell reception out here.”

  “I don’t. I was in a town a week ago buying supplies when I called.”

  “Ah. So how do you charge the phone?”

  “Bribe a store clerk to use their outlet for an hour while I shop.”

  “You’ve thought of everything.”

  Styxx leaned over to his backpack and pulled out a roll of toilet paper then chucked it at Urian. “I try.”

  “That’s so messed up.” Sobering, Urian cleared his throat. “You haven’t asked me about Acheron.”

  Styxx forced himself not to react. Or to care. That had been the hardest thing to do … to let go of and bury a relationship that had died a long, long time ago. “I assume he’s doing fine. The world hasn’t ended and I’m not dead.”

  “He’s expecting a baby in April.”

  Styxx snorted. “That should make medical news then, and I’m sure Soteria is grateful she doesn’t have to go through labor.”

  “Wha … ah, gah. Yeah. You knew what I meant.”

  He did, indeed. “Do they know what it is?”

  “A boy.”

  Styxx’s breath caught in his throat at the injustice. But he forced his anger down. It wasn’t Acheron’s fault that his mother had murdered Styxx’s son.

  His brother’s life and happiness had nothing to do with his … another thing he’d come to terms with. They may have been born twins, but they were two different people who’d always led two separate lives.

  And Acheron didn’t want him in his.

  Styxx smiled. “I’m happy for them. I’m sure his son will be handsome and strong.”

  Just as his son would have been, had Galen lived.

  Styxx had never been quite sure what had bothered him most about losing Bethany and their baby. The fact that they were gone or that he hadn’t been there to at least try and protect them. He could only imagine the horror Bethany must have felt when she faced the Destroyer.

  Alone.

  He swallowed hard at the eternal pain that never lessened. “So how’s Davyn?” he asked, switching the topic to Urian’s best friend.

  “Insane. I seem to attract that personality type for some reason.”

  Styxx smirked. “Aeì koloiòs parà koloiôi hizánei.”

  Urian scowled at the old Greek saying. “A jackdaw is always with a jackdaw?”

  “Birds of a feather.”

  Urian laughed. “Hey now, I resemble that remark.”

  Styxx leaned back so that he could peep through the crack in the tent flap to see that it was now completely dark outside. He set his cup aside. “If you really want to know why I love it here, follow me.”

  Skylos lifted his head, but since Styxx didn’t call him outside with them, he went back to sleep.

  As soon as they were out of the tent, Styxx looked up at the sky and started opening the sides of the tent so that they could take advantage of the much cooler night air. “You don’t have a view like that in New York.”

  Urian gaped at the sight of the vivid night sky. “I’d forgotten how beautiful and bright they are.”

  “Yeah. When I was a kid, I’d sit out on my balcony for hours staring at them.” He and Acheron would make up stories about the heroes whose constellations they could identify. “Most of the time, I don’t pitch the tent. I sleep out here on the sands, watching them. It was one of the things I missed over the centuries. They don’t exist on the Vanishing Isle or Katateros.”

  “Again, I never think about the fact Katateros only has a moon. Alexion said the stars faded when Apollymi killed Astors, I think his name was.”

  “Asteros.”

  Urian cocked a brow at his answer. “I’m amazed you remember any of their names.”

  Honestly, Asteros was one he’d like to forget. But some memories were just too brutal to die no matter how much time passed.

  “Are you hungry?” Styxx asked. “I have dried scorpion, nuts, figs, dates, and apples.”

  Urian twisted his face up in distaste. “I really hope the scorpion offer is just to screw with me.”

  “No, it’s actually quite good. Tastes like chicken.”

  “Ar, ar, ar.” Urian feigned laughter. “I’d rather live on blood … or my shoes.”

  Styxx tsked. “I might have some beef jerky left.”

  “That I could be talked into.”

  Styxx went back inside. “It’s good to have you here, Ur
ian. I’d forgotten what it was like to actually carry on a real conversation with someone outside of my head.”

  “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 multi-legged 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 his small chest near his rifle that had reappeared one day while he’d been in Katateros. He’d thrown out all the herbs long ago, but there were still four things in it that had belonged to him as a man.

  Opening it, he pulled out the 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. Galan gave them to me, and I wore them into every battle I fought.”

  Urian’s jaw went slack then 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.