“I’ll survive nine strokes.”
“From Trates.”
Fierce and loyal, Trates never hesitated at anything his father asked of him. Urian knew those lashes would hurt, yet they would cut him as much as they did Urian, for Trates couldn’t stand harming a child. That weakness was something his father hated about his second, and it was one he tried constantly to strip out of his soldier.
Urian couldn’t stand the thought of harming Trates for something that had been his bad idea. It wasn’t fair that they both should suffer. “From Xedrix.”
His father’s jaw dropped. “The Charonte demon?”
Urian nodded. “He won’t pull back from the punishment. It’s what you want, is it not?”
That set his father back and caused his jaw to drop even more. “By the gods, you are a cheeky little bastard, aren’t you?”
“Cut from the same cloth as my baba … at least it’s what Mata tells me.”
One corner of his father’s lips curved upward in wry amusement as his anger seemed to flee. “At least I know that’s notyourpiss on your leg.… Paris’s?”
“I’d rather not say, Baba.”
His father narrowed his eyes, then lifted him up into his arms. “I should beat you for what you’ve done. You could have been killed!”
“I just wanted to see the sunlight.”
“And I want to see my sons grow to be men, Uri. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
Fisting his hand in his hair, his father held him against his chest so tightly that it actually hurt. “Baba! Pain! Pain!”
His father let out a fierce sigh. “You don’t know what real pain is, Urian. And I pray to the gods that you never do. You’ve no idea what horrors await you in this world. Terrible things I can’t protect you from.”
Urian placed his hand to his father’s bearded cheek. “Don’t worry, Baba. I’ll keep you safe from them.”
His father laughed. “I believe you will.” Then his features turned stern and his eyes red as anger darkened his brow. “But you areneverto venture near sunlight again. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, akri.” He switched to the Atlantean term for “lord and master” that he’d learned from Xedrix and the other Charonte who shared Kalosis with them.
“Are you being sarcastic with me?”
Urian wrinkled his nose devilishly, knowing he’d been caught. “No, akri. Never.”
His father growled and squeezed him. “Oh, you little scamp!” He set him down on his feet. “Off with you! Get cleaned up and head to bed!”
“Okies.” Urian ran through the portal that took him back to the central hall in Kalosis where they lived, and where his father normally sat, waiting for any strays who might venture into their realm. The dark hall was completely empty and eerily quiet at this time of night. Which was a shame since he was starving because earlier his baba had been gone, and no one had wanted to feed him. They were all too afraid of his weird eyes. Only his baba didn’t seem to mind the fact that Urian wasn’t like other Apollites.
He should have asked to be fed …
Oh well.
His stomach rumbling, Urian headed toward the hallway that led to his room.
“Urian?”
He froze at the stern, melodic voice he knew, but one they weren’t supposed to ever speak to directly. That, too, was against the rules.
Yet no one had ever said what to do if the goddess spoke first. Surely it would be rude to ignore her …
“Akra?”
