Aster answered, though he did not meet my eyes at first. His expression was tight, jaw clenched in a way that told me he had already decided this was his fault. That Riley had taken me because he had failed to stop it.
“Five hours, maybe a little more,” he said, looking uncomfortable as he pulled a frustrated hand down his face. “After you touched Riley, you fell to the floor. When we tried to move you, well, I think the pain tipped you over the edge, and you passed out. Bronte has healed you, but even Asclepius isn’t a miracle cure…” he trailed off, turning his head away as if the words hurt too much to finish.
“Your back,” Bronte said, gently, stepping in without hesitation. “It was too extensive.” Her voice was calm but honest, pausing for long enough to be sure that I understood what she was saying. “The damage had already gone too far, too deep… I am afraid to tell you that it will scar.”
I nodded, already knowing as much from the way my body felt, from the way pain still lived beneath the healing. But I waved it off without a second thought.
“I don’t care,” I told them.
“Alex,” My uncle argued in a gentle voice, but I shook my head, my thoughts clearing with every second we wasted.
“Look, the way I see it is that it’s just one more scar to remind me that I survived this war against the darkness. It isn’t something I have time to focus on… not when Atlas needs me.”
Aster’s head snapped back toward me so fast it almost startled me, and disbelief flashed across his face before he told me,
“You’re not going anywhere, Alex, not like this, not now, not ever!”
I opened my mouth to argue, the words already rising, but he cut me off before I could say them, his voice sharp with something more serious than anger as he asked me about the last thing I had told them in the basement.
“You said the King is going to kill hisotherbrother. But he only has one.”
“That’s what we all thought,” I muttered, pressing my palms into my forehead in frustration. All the while trying to shove the panic and impatience down a notch, knowing that every minute we talked about this could mean the difference between saving Atlas from doing something that could tip the scales in this war to the side of our enemies. The difference between killing his own brother or me saving him from committing the biggest regret of his life. Which was why it felt like every second counted.
“I don’t know what to tell you other than what I felt. It was as if… as if someone is controlling his actual brother, the one who now sits on the throne in his place,” I told him, pausing as I tried to recall the feeling.
“Lazaros,”Bronte whispered his brother’s name, making me nod. “Atlas told me what happened, that his brother had changed, but what if he was wrong?”
“Wrong how?” Aster asked with a frown.
“What if someone was just using him, pulling the strings in the background so that he could control Lazaros, control the crown and, with it, the kingdom?” I said.
Tiffany, who had been strangely quiet until now, asked, “But who?”
“I don’t know…” I said, turning to her before my eyes found Aster’s once more as I continued, “…But itfeltlike another brother.” I emphasized the word ‘felt’, trying to make themunderstand that I knew just because it was a feeling, that didn’t make it a certainty.
I forced myself to look at everyone around the room. My uncle’s face was filled with confusion, as if he had arrived at this party too late and therefore still had his fair share of questions. Tiffany’s mouth was slightly open, but her eyes were on Aster as she took in the information and what it could all mean.
As for Bronte, she was still leaning against the wall. Calm and unreadable as her fingers tapped on her crossed arms, her gaze solely on me. And Aster, well, his frown was skeptical, and I knew that he didn’t entirely believe what I was ‘feeling’ was concrete proof.
“I know, I know. It sounds ridiculous,” I said, hoping I could cut away some of the doubt plastered across his face. “But this darkness that’s taken over the Myths, taken over Riley,” I paused, my throat tightening as if it didn’t want me to say the words. “I just know, deep inside of me, that it’s taken over Lazaros, too.”
Uncle Rick sighed next to me and placed a comforting hand on my knee before telling Aster, “I don’t know who is responsible for all this, but I know my niece, and if she says she feels the King has been deceived, then we must listen to her.”
I let out a little relieved breath, thankful that someone had my back in this. My hand covered his, and I squeezed it in silent thanks.
As for the one who was obviously calling the shots here, Aster released his own sigh.
“This other brother, you got a name?” Aster asked, his voice full of enough uncertainty that I had to refrain from rolling my eyes before snapping back.
“No, and as handy as that would be right now, it still doesn’t change matters, nor does it change what we must do.”
He looked thunderous but kept his tone level when he ground out, “You keep saying we, like this is something you will be a part of.”
It was now my turn to grit my teeth as I shot to my feet, my uncle right there to steady me as I swayed slightly.
“And you have lost your Minotaur mind if you think that I’m going to just sit back and do nothing!” I shouted in my anger, but before Aster could speak again, Bronte shifted slightly where she leaned against the wall. The subtle motion was enough to catch my eye in time to see her lift a hand toward Aster. Her eye guard was firmly embedded into her skin, and now that I knew what it concealed, I could see the faint flicker of lightning behind it. Something I used to think was just the light catching her eye. But now I knew better.
Her voice cut through the room, calm as ever.
