“I think the demons woke something that was sleeping in the basement. Any idea what Ash might have hidden down there?”
Simi glared at him. “It’s not the book dragon. She’s sleeping on her island! I told you, it’s them unquality Atlantean gods!”
Cursing under his breath, he nodded. “Sim, go to Apollymi and tell her what’s happened. Xirena, find Acheron and tell him that we need him immediately.”
Danger staggered as the floor buckled again. “What’s down there?”
“Acheron’s relatives.”
“Pardon?”
Alexion turned pale. “Remember when you asked me what happened to all the Atlantean gods?”
“Yeah.”
Alexion sighed. “Apparently, they’re all downstairs … turned to stone by Apollymi, which is the part I knew. I just wasn’t sure of their exact location.”
Xirena pointed to her sister. “Now set free by Xiamara.”
Oh yeah … this was bad indeed. Alexion knew he had to do something. Fast.
“Where are you going?” Danger called as he started to leave.
Alexion gave her a droll stare. “To get Savitar. We’re going to need all hands on deck for this disaster.”
She frowned. “Well, how many gods are down there?”
“About a hundred.”
“Great,” Danger said with a hysterical note in her voice. “Love your calm demeanor, hon. And it’s a good thing I’m already a ghost.” ’Cause their chances of living through this?
About as good as surviving a brunch where you cut in front of a Charonte in the all-you-can-eat barbecue line.
“Yeah, yeah. Just call Urian in Minnesota!”
December 23, 2012
Savitar paused as he watched Styxx, silhouetted by the setting sun, on top of a small dune. He’d stripped down to nothing but his loose pants and boots while he played Frisbee with his dog. Over and over, Styxx would laughingly take the Frisbee, praise the animal, then wait for the dog to run out again so that he could toss it for the dog to jump, catch it, and return.
It was the first time he’d ever seen Styxx at ease. Unguarded. For that matter, it was the only time he’d known the prince to play.
Or laugh.
And as he watched Styxx with the dog, he didn’t see the feral military commander who’d terrified a pantheon and nation, or the rigid prince who had to ooze decorum at all times. He didn’t even see a man. He saw the boy who had never been given a chance to live. One who’d been cut down in his youth and deprived of a normal, mortal life.
Because of the way Styxx and Acheron acted, the maturity, responsibility, and pain they held that went far beyond their years, it was easy to forget how young they’d been when they died. But Savitar saw it now.
And the injustice of it burned inside his heart.
I have no right to ask this of him.
None of them did. Guilt gutted him as he felt for the childhood and life Styxx would have had, had the gods not interfered. Styxx would have been that beloved, cherished prince that everyone thought he was. His destiny would have been something else entirely.
And Styxx would have been a Chthonian …
To save and protect Acheron from those who hunted him and wanted him dead as a child, they all had taken a turn at ruining Styxx.
Savitar knew he should go and leave the boy in peace. Styxx wanted only to be alone, and he’d certainly earned the right to it.
