“Machus,” he could just about make out the God of War’s shape in the gloom. Not that he needed to look, he could sense the deity’s sheer presence, which filled the room with a suffocating weight.
“Hello, my dear boy.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Can I not visit my sister’s child? Especially when mynephew finds himself in a worse pickle than the one I saw him in last?”
Leander heard footfalls and knew the god was moving about the cell, though closer or father away, he was not sure.
“You find yourself in quite the predicament, Leo. What a mess you’ve made.”
“I was only trying to protect?—”
“Oh, I know that. So do my brothers and sisters. But we are powerless in the affairs of mortals.”
“Bullshit!” Leander exclaimed, jumping up to his feet from where he had been curled up on the floor against a wall. “We meddle all the time. Not a day went by where I wasn’t in someone’s libations, or summoned with a lie, there to breathe genuineness into it.”
“Maybe that’s the problem. Whatever lesson Taskevi banished you to learn, you clearly haven’t learnt it.” He paused. “Why are we in darkness? Let’s rectify this.”
A small flame ignited on Machus’ hand and remained hovering in the middle of the room when the hand was lowered. “A gift from Vatram to you. He may be an annoying, self-righteous little shit, but he has his uses.”
Leander said nothing as he blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to the change in light in the room.
“So… what are you going to do?” Machus asked after a deep inhalation of air.
“Nothing,” Leander replied bluntly. “I’m done.”
“And why is that?”
Leander breathed out a huff of air. “Because I tried to do the right thing for once and I still ended up in here. What I didfor you was wrong, but what I did for Vyrica, trying to expose the lie, was the right thing. And it didn’t even matter. My father, my brothers, even my mother, they want nothing more to do with me. And you’ve been sent here to condemn me.”
Then, Machus smiled, but his eyes appeared to be pitying. “My dear child… I am not here to condemn you.” He stepped around the hovering flame to examine the door keeping Leander caged for a moment before turning back to face the demigod. “I am here to redeem you.”
Leander couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “You? Redeem me? You’re the reason I am here, uncle.” The boy dragged a shaking hand through his hair, as if that simple gesture would rid him of his frustration and budding anger. “God of War, God ofDeception. You deceived me, you promised me that we were a team and yet I alone suffered the consequences. You fucked me over, why should I trust you when my loyalty to you has brought me nothing but pain?”
Machus paused, a seemingly surprised expression at the sudden venom in the fallen demigod’s voice settling onto his face. “You seem to misunderstand me. There was no lie, Leander. You heard what you wanted to hear and I cannot be held at fault for that. I would have hoped that, in all your years with me, you would have come to see that.”
Leander opened his mouth to speak but Machus raised a hand to silence him before he could utter a sound.
“Ulterior motives or no, you had your own reasons for seeking such an alliance with me… and I doubt that your intentions were that of gold.” He shook his head. “We are none of us innocent. And the point you misinterpreted is that loyalty matters not to any of the Nine. You said it yourself—even your mother has abandoned you. Others are more valuable to her. To your own mother, you are expendable, Leander.”
So many things flashed through the demigod’s mind as Machus spoke. It was getting hard to mentally collate them all for cohesion. First and foremost was the absolute surety that the only truth contained in Machus’ words were those calculated to be the most effective in allowing the lies to take root in his mind.
Was it not always a sound strategy to use the very weapon of the enemy against him?
It was Leander’s experience, in his limited and short life so far, that people did just that when they wanted to reinforce their own right to do something for which they would normally experience shame. By doing so, they could assure themselves of their enemy’s equal guilt first.
Leander would not hold the use of any tactic against someone who was trying desperately to win. What else could he expect of his enemy? Because, as Leander was coming to understand, Machus, in this moment, was his enemy. He was no friend—his mentor no more.
But as he heard the god out, some incongruities did not catch in his thoughts. Primarily, he could not work out what the point of this was.
“Expendable? Says something about the man who comes toredeemthe expendable individual.” Even though he felt considerable pride in the delivery of his rebuttal, there was still this horrible feeling of a lack of any real purpose in this conversation.
He didn’t believe that his mother had truly abandonedhim, and the whole argument built on this supposition would not hold up under close scrutiny.
Not much was readable on Machus’ face, except perhaps disappointment. He was gazing at Leander in silence, as if appraising his possibilities.
“I admire your conviction, Leander,” Machus’ voice was soft and disarming as he took a further two steps closer to his quarry. “Do you know of the game of chess, child?”
