“You’ve assumed a lot of things about him that aren’t true. Such as telling me that he was in the Elysian Fields for eleven thousand years. He wasn’t. Artemis put him on a Vanishing Isle completely alone. No one to talk to, and again with no supplies whatsoever. Not even a hammer.”
“That’s not what she told me.”
“Because Auntie Artemis never lies. Ever. About anything … such as having an eleven-thousand-year relationship with you that resulted in the birth of a daughter my age she never told you about until a handful of years ago. Artemis is the fountain of absolute truth, especially where you’re concerned. Her kind, benevolent care for all those centuries was why Styxx didn’t complain when you dropped him in Katateros. It was how he knew how to survive there with nothing. But the real question is why did he leave?”
“I assumed he got bored.”
“There you go again with the assumptions.” Urian dropped his gaze down to the tattoo on Ash’s body where his Charonte daughter slept. “Our precious little Simi demon attacked him unprovoked and … well, she did kill him. But he didn’t stay dead, obviously. Now before you call him a liar for that, too, I want you to know he never told me that story. Ever. I overheard it from Simi when she was bragging to her sister about ripping apart the bad copy of you who tried to hurt her akri. In fact, Styxx never says a word against you. Ever.”
“He told you I stabbed him.”
“Yeah, one night when he was really tore up and drunk and I was asking him about some of the scars on his body. As many and as bad as most of them are, the huge jagged one in the center of his chest directly over his heart tends to stand out.”
Ash frowned at his words. “What scars?”
“Dear gods, Ash … have you never looked at your brother? They’re all over him. Even his face.”
No, he’d never seen scars on Styxx. But as Urian pointed out, he never really looked at him.
Only through him.
“Where is he?”
Urian narrowed his gaze. “Why? So you can hurt him again? Forget it. He’s gone someplace safe so that you won’t have to worry about him darkening your doorstep ever again.”
“Yeah, he’s so altruistic with his billion-dollar bank account.”
“If you’re talking about the money you set up for him when you dumped him off without a second thought? He transferred that back to your account before he left New York. That, too, has been closed for three years.”
Sick of this game, Ash ground his teeth. “You know, I can find him without you.”
“You hurt him, Acheron, and I swear to the gods I loathe that I will beat you down for it. For once in your lives, can you not think of him and just leave him alone? It’s all he wants. You’ve already forgotten him for three years. What’s another three hundred?”
Those words were harsh. But harsher still was the truth behind them.
Ash swallowed. “I want to talk to my brother.”
Urian sighed. “Fine. He’s in the Sahara. Literally. Living like a Bedouin. I had dinner with him and haven’t heard anything since. That’s all I know.”
Inclining his head, Ash left Urian and went to locate Styxx.
Careful to stayinvisible, Ash watched Styxx feed his horse and camel. Urian hadn’t exaggerated the horrors of Styxx’s meager existence in the least. But for the vivid blue eyes that were ringed in kohl, Styxx would easily pass for a Bedouin. Dressed all in black, he had his keffiyeh pulled over his mouth and nose, concealing his hair and features completely. The only color on his body was the brown sheath for his scimitar and the red agal wrapped around his black keffiyeh. And the two brown leather arm sheaths for the throwing knives they contained.
The horse nipped at the black leather pouch on Styxx’s hip.
Styxx laughed. “Ah, you caught me.” He scratched the horse’s ears and patted her neck. “Yes, they’re for you.” He opened the pouch and pulled out apple slices that he fed by hand to his horse. “Good, right?” His horse actually nodded and snorted.
The camel made a sound of annoyance. “Don’t worry, Wasima. I haven’t forgotten you.” Styxx went to share some with his other mount.
Once the animals were fed and secured, and after he’d washed off his hands in the small oasis, Styxx headed into a tiny black tent.
Ash followed him in and was stunned at what he found. The “prince” had a modest bedroll on top of a worn-out Persian rug where a big brown dog lay sleeping beside metal bowls of half-eaten dog food and water. Next to the bedroll was an iPhone on the ground hooked to a small speaker that was playing Disturbed’s “Criminal” low enough to be heard in the tent, but not so loud as to drown out the sound of someone approaching outside. A backpack, saddlebags, four medium-sized solar lanterns, one rifle, and nothing else.
Unaware of Ash’s presence, Styxx stripped down to his akarbey.
Damn, Urian wasn’t kidding. The scars on Styxx’s body were horrifying to look at. When, where, and how had Styxx gotten those? And when Styxx squatted in the corner to search his backpack, Ash’s breath caught in his throat as he saw Apollo’s sun symbol that spanned the entire width of Styxx’s shoulders.
As a god, Ash knew exactly what a mark like that meant and all the horrors it entailed.…
