“Very.”
Apollymi held her hand out for him. “Then go ahead and feed, Uri. That will be our bond. Let no one know of it. And you will be like Achilles. Made stronger than the others of your kind. Even though I’m not an Apollite, my blood can feed you. And it will keep you safer, until the day comes when you will repay me for it.”
Urian was too hungry to think about what he did, but the moment he tasted her blood, he realized that he would never be the same …
March 20, 9522 BC
My baba’s dying …
Urian couldn’t breathe or think as he ran through the darkness. Blinded by tears and pain, he wasn’t even sure where he was headed as he sought an escape from the death that constantly stalked his people.
He didn’t even know what had happened to his father. All he knew was that they’d brought him home a few minutes ago, barely alive. Everyone had been angry and screaming as they sought to stop his father from bleeding before he died of it.
So much blood …
He’d never seen his father weak before. Never seen him so pale and trembling. Even now, the image of Trates carrying his father through the door was seared into his mind.
How could the fierce and mighty Strykerius be unable to stand on his own?
And though he knew his parents didn’t love each other, his mother had taken his father’s bruised and bloodied hand and wept. That alone had told him how dire his father’s condition was.
When Urian tried to see him, Archie had shoved him out of the room. “No one wants you here, Uri! Go away!”
The doctor had concurred. “You’re underfoot, boy! Move!”
And so he’d run out the door, into the street. With no destination in mind, he’d just kept going. Now …
His lungs ached from the crisp chthonic air that kept them safe. The muscles of his legs protested his long sprint, while his grief choked him with a vicious grip that threatened his own life. Unable to deal with it all, he collapsed on the damp ground and gave vent to all his misery that screamed out in silent agony.
He couldn’t lose his father. Not like this.
I love you, Baba!
Suddenly, something shifted near him in the darkness.
Urian sat up on the dark ground with a gasp and a hiccup. “Wh-wh-who’s there?” he demanded, his authority undercut by his ragged tears.
Something warm brushed against his cheek so fast that he couldn’t see it. He could only feel it swipe at his tears, like a warm, dry lick. And it left in its wake a glass figure in his lap. One placed there so gently that he barely felt the drop against his linen chiton.
Confused and baffled, Urian picked it up to see an image of a small soldier, perfectly formed. It was amazing. So real and detailed that he half expected the man to move. The hoplite even had a spear and shield.
Sniffing back his tears, he drew a ragged breath and wiped his eyes.
Do you feel better now?
Urian glanced around at the soft, sweet voice he heard in his head. “Who are you?”
I’m the guardian of the Atramentian Falls. You’re not supposed to be here, you know. The goddess would punish us both if she knew you’d trespassed into her special sanctuary. I’m supposed to eat anyone who dares cross the dark borderlands.
Urian scowled at the worlds.Eat?
That piqued his curiosity immediately. “Are you one of the Charonte?” They had their own lands here in Kalosis where they didn’t normally interact with his race, unless Apollymi was angry and set them loose as punishment. And while he couldn’t quite remember which direction he’d run, he was rather certain he wouldn’t have been so stupid as to head towardtheirsection.
Only Paris and Theo were that dumb and suicidal. Urian always took care to give the demons a wide berth.
Nay, I’m not a Charonte.
He arched a brow at that. Not a Charonte?
