Acheron 9529 BC–7382 BC 13 страница

Instead of falling, he was now rising, away from the sea. The sound of the waves crashing against rocks was replaced by the heavy fluttering of giant wings. He turned to see a female demon holding him. Just as the oracle had said.

"Let me go!" he shouted, trying to free himself.

She didn't. Not until she'd returned him to the balcony where he'd been.

Acheron staggered back as she perched on the railing and watched him closely. She had long straight black hair that fell over skin marbled white and red. Her eyes glowed in the darkness, white irises, surrounded by vivid red. Like her hair, her wings and horns were black.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice filled with venom.

"Akri should be more careful," she whispered kindly. "Had Xiamara been a moment later, you would have died."

"I wanted to die."

She cocked her head in a gesture that reminded him of a bird. "But why, akri?" She looked over her shoulder to where the people were still arriving. "So many come to celebrate your human birth."

"They don't come for me."

Xiamara frowned at him. "But you are the prince. Heir."

He laughed bitterly. "I'm heir to shit and prince of nothing."

"Nay. You are Apostolos, son of Apollymi. Revered by all."

"I am Acheron, son of no one. Revered only within the confines of a bedroom."

She stepped slowly down before him. Her wings tucked themselves around her lithe body. "You don't remember your birth. I understand. I was sent here by your mother with her gift for you."

He was trying to follow her words, but his mind was too numbed by drink. The demon was insane. She must have him confused with someone else. "My mother is dead."

"The human queen, yes. But your real mother, the goddess Apollymi, is alive and wishes you all of her love. I am her most faithful servant, Xiamara, and I am here to protect you as I've protected her."

Acheron shook his head. He was drunk. Hallucinating. Maybe he'd already died.

"Get away from me."

The demon didn't. Before he could escape, she placed a small orb to his heart.

Acheron screamed out as pain tore through him. Never in his life had he felt anything like this, and given the tortures they'd put him through, that said much. It was as if there was poisonous fire in his veins, ripping through his entire body.

From the center of his chest where the orb rested, his skin changed from tawny to a marbled blue...

As the pain and color unfurled through him, images and voices screamed out, piercing his eardrums. Scents assaulted his nostrils. Even his clothes burned against his skin. He fell to the ground and curled up into a ball as every sense he had was assailed.

"You are the god Apostolos. Harbinger and son of Apollymi the Destroyer. Your will is the will of the universe. You are the final fate of all..."

Acheron kept shaking his head in denial. No. It couldn't be. "I am nothing. I am nothing."

The demon lifted his head. "Why are you not happy? You are a god now."

Fury rode him hard as he grabbed her. He didn't understand his powers or anything else that was happening to him, but all the years of his life, all the degradations and horrors tore through him. Those he let travel from his mind into hers.

The demon cried out as she slung her head back. " Ni! This was not supposed to happen to you, akri. Not this..."

He grabbed her and forced her gaze to meet his. "It was bad enough when they thought me the human son of a god. Can you imagine what they'll do to me now? Take these powers away from me."

"I cannot. They are yours by birthright."

Acheron fell back, banging his head against the stone floor. "No!" he shrieked. "No! I don't want this. I only want to be left alone."

Xiamara tried to embrace him.

Acheron pushed her away. "I want nothing from you. You've done enough damage to me."

"Akri—"

"Out of my sight!"

Her eyes glowed with reluctance. "Your will is my own." The orb she'd held against him appeared as a necklace about his neck. "If you need me, akri, call and I will come."

Acheron pressed his hand against his skull that ached and throbbed with new voices and sensations. He felt as if he were going mad and perhaps he was. Perhaps the cruelty had finally shattered his sanity.

He heard the demon leave as unknown voices whispered and shouted through his mind. It was as if he could hear the entire world at once. He knew every thought, every wish, every fear.

His breathing ragged, he wanted an escape from it. He snatched at the necklace, but it wouldn't break. Instead, it glowed in his palm.

Crying out, he wanted to jump again. Unfortunately, he couldn't even stand. He was so dizzy. So ill...

What had they done to him now?

A pollymi paced the small courtyard in Kalosis, waiting for Xiamara's return.

"Where's the Simi's matera?"

She turned slightly to see Xiamara's youngest child in the doorway. Named for her mother, Xiamara, Simi—which was Charonte for baby—was almost three thousand years old and yet she looked no older than a four-year-old human child. Unlike humans and gods, Charonte demons were very slow to mature.

Apollymi knelt down and held her arms out for Simi. "She's not back yet, sweeting. Soon."

Simi pouted before she ran to her and threw her arms around Apollymi's neck. She put one small thumb into her mouth and buried her other hand deep in Apollymi's hair.

Apollymi closed her eyes as she hugged the small demon. How she wished she could have held her own son like this. Just once. Instead, she'd contented herself with lavishing her love on Xiamara's simi while she waited for her son to grow old enough to free her.

Simi laid her head on Apollymi's shoulder while Apollymi sang to her. "Why is akra sad?"

"I'm not sad, Simi. I'm anxious."

"Is anxious like when the Simi eats too much and her stomach hurts?"

Apollymi smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Not exactly. It's when you can't wait for something to happen."

"Ooo like when the Simi is hungry and she's waiting on her matera to feed her."

"Something like that."

Apollymi felt a movement in the air. She looked to the shadows to see the outline of Xiamara's body. For a full minute, she couldn't move as she waited for her best friend to join her.

But there was a hesitancy to Xiamara that made her heart stop. "What is it?"

Xiamara held her hands out for Simi who gratefully went to her mother. The demon held her daughter as tears fell down her cheeks.

Apollymi felt her own eyes mist as fear gripped her. "Xi? Tell me."

She clenched her eyes closed while she continued to rock her daughter. "I don't know how to tell you, akra."

The more she hesitated, the more fraught with worry Apollymi was. "Is he not well? I'm still a prisoner here so I know he lives."

"He lives."

"Does he not... love me?"

Xiamara shook her head before she set Simi down. "Go find your sister, Simi. I need to speak with akra alone."

Sucking her thumb, Simi skipped away from them.

When Xiamara faced her, Apollymi felt the blood drain from her cheeks. "What aren't you telling me?"

Xiamara sniffed back her tears before she placed her hand on Apollymi's shoulder and transferred the images Apostolos had given her. Disbelief and horror racked her as Apollymi saw what had been done to her child.

Those emotions gave way to a fury so profound, all she could do was scream. The sound of it echoed through the Palace of the Dead all of the way up to Katoteros where the rest of the gods made their home.

All activity stopped as the other Atlantean gods heard the sound of utmost heartache.

One by one, they turned to face Archon whose features blanched.

"Is she free?" Epithymia, the goddess of desire, asked.

Archon shook his head. "She'd be here already if she were free. No. Something else has happened. For now, we're safe." At least he hoped so...

A pollymi staggered away from Xiamara as image after image branded itself into her mind. What the humans had done to her son...

"I will kill them all," she growled through clenched teeth. "Everyone who laid a hand to him will die in flames, begging for my mercy and I will have none for them. None!" She looked up at Xiamara. "And Archon will know the full weight of my wrath. There is nothing inside me for him now."

Xiamara tucked her black wings around herself. "But Apostolos refuses to accept what's his. He refuses me."

"Go to him anyway, Xi. Comfort him and help him understand what he has to do. Tell him that when he comes to me all will be made right."

"I will try, akra."

A cheron lay in the darkness of his room, trying to breathe as he shook from the pain of his overwhelmed senses. Suddenly, he heard a soft, gentle voice in his head that drowned it all out. It was truly the most beautiful sound he'd ever known.

His breathing eased along with the fading pain.

"I am with you now, Apostolos."

"Who are you?"

"That is the voice of your mother."

He squinted in the dark to see the demon kneeling beside him. He curled into a ball, away from her. "I have no mother. She cast me aside when I was born."

"Ni, akri," the demon said softly. "I was the one who took you from your mother's arms while she wept in fear for you. Your mother, Apollymi, hid you in the human realm to protect you from the gods who wanted you dead. I swear to you on my life. Neither of us ever meant for you to be harmed. You were supposed to be raised as a prince. Pampered. Beloved. None of this should have happened to you."

He found that impossible to believe. "I don't understand. Why do the gods want me dead?"

"It was prophesied that you would be the end of the Atlantean gods. But you have to understand how much your mother loves you. She risked her life and defied the other gods to save you and keep you hidden until you were old enough to use your powers to fight them. Even now she sits imprisoned, wanting you to come to her. Free her, Apostolos and she will make right every wrong ever done to you."

"Make it right how?"

"She will destroy everyone who ever harmed you." The demon stroked his hair like the mother she described. "You are the most loved of any child ever born. Every day I have sat with your mother while she wept for your loss and ached to have you with her. Come home with me, Apostolos. Meet your mother."

He wanted to. And yet... "How do I know I can trust you?"

"Why would I lie?"

Everyone lied, especially to him. "For any number of reasons."

Xiamara. They come. Leave him quickly!

The demon shrank back from his bed. "The gods can't find me with you or they'll know who and where you are. Listen to your mother's voice and I'll return as soon as I can. Stay hidden, precious one." She vanished instantly.

Acheron lay alone, listening to the voices that tangled inside him. He heard laughter and tears, curses and screams.

Until his mother's voice soothed him again. He focused on that single tone and closed his eyes as it drove away all the other voices that made his head throb.

Had the demon been telling the truth? Dare he believe for one moment that he was the beloved son of anyone?

Surely it was preposterous.

He cupped the necklace in his hand and studied it. Some kind of stone, it appeared milky and iridescent. Then he glanced to where his slave's mark had been branded into his palm.

It was gone now without a single trace. How could this be?

I'm a god who was a slave...

Not just any slave. The lowest of all.

Acheron covered his eyes with his hand as shame overwhelmed him. And as he lay there, images tore through him... he saw the past, the present and the future through the experiences of thousands of people. He could hear their hopes and fears. Hear the very essence of the universe.

For the first time, he saw those who had it worse than he did. Those who seemed to have it better. The screams of mothers who'd lost their children. Children who had no parents. Beggars and kings...

Now he understood what Artemis had meant when she said she paid no attention to the human world. It was overwhelming. Horrifying. All these people who needed help and as he imagined helping them, he saw numerous outcomes play out in his mind.

But the one thing he couldn't see was his own life.

Or Ryssa's.

Not even Artemis. Why? It made no sense. As if any of this could possibly make sense. Acheron laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Opening his eyes, he realized that he was no longer on the ground. He was hovering over it. He gasped, then fell back to the floor. Pain shot through him as his skin again marbled to blue. His fingernails turned black and grew long...

Something wasn't right. His body was now alien to him. He stared at the marbled skin, trying to understand why it would be such a color.

How could he hide this from his family? Do you want to? A sadistic laugh went through him as he imagined the look on his "father's" face as he told him who and what he was.

"I'm a god."

Not half, but full-blooded. One with a bounty on his head, with an entire pantheon out to kill him. It was ridiculous. It defied belief, yet here he was... blue.

Acheron tried to get up, but a wave of dizziness sent him back to his knees. He looked at his bed, wishing he could make it to it. The next thing he knew, he was under the covers.

His eyes widened as the full implication of what he was hit him. He was a god with the same powers as Artemis.

Or maybe not. How did god powers work?

"Acheron?"

He tensed at the sound of Ryssa's voice in the room with him. Glancing down, he saw that his skin was again normal and he was grateful that the blanket covered him completely. "Yes?"

"Are you ill?"

Technically no. He wasn't even drunk anymore. "I'm just resting."

He felt her sit beside him on the bed and tug at the blanket. "Will you look at me?"

Terrified of what might happen while she sat there, he uncovered his head.

She smiled. "I haven't seen you all day and wanted to give you this." She held a small box out to him.

Her gift made his throat tight. "Thank you." Returning her smile, he opened it to find a small medallion on a bracelet. It was the symbol of a sun with three lightning bolts piercing it. He frowned at the emblem that seemed eerily familiar.

"I know it's strange, but I saw it in the market and it made me think of you. The jeweler said it was a symbol of strength."

"It's Atlantean." The sun design was that of Apollymi... his mother.

I've made him sad. Why did I pick this one? Oh no...

He heard Ryssa's thoughts in his head.

"It's beautiful. Thank you."

She reached for it. "I can—"

He covered her hand with his. "I love it, Ryssa."

He's only saying that. I'm so sorry, Acheron. I didn't mean to pick out something Atlantean. How could I have been so stupid?

It was so disconcerting to hear her thoughts so clearly while she held a false smile in place.

"If you're sure..."

He nodded. "I'm sure. Thank you," he repeated.

I'm such a fool. Here I tried to make sure he had at least one gift and I've ruined it with my stupidity.

The sincere love he felt in those words brought tears to his eyes. His sister really did love him... more than he'd ever guessed.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You mean everything to me, Ryssa. You know that, don't you?"

"I love you, Acheron." And I wish I could make this day as special as it should be for you. It's not fair that you're here alone.

"Ryssa!" Her father's shout was enough to make Acheron glare at the door.

Ryssa frowned at him. Dear gods, what's wrong with his eyes?

Acheron averted his gaze, scared of what they might look like now. His body was still normal, but what of his eyes?

His door slammed opened to reveal her father. "What are you doing here? It's time to toast your brother."

She stood up and lifted her chin. "I was giving my brother his gift."

"Don't you dare be impertinent. Your presence is required. Now."

"Go, Ryssa," Acheron breathed. "Your father wants you."

You godless whore.

Acheron laughed at the king's thoughts. If the man only knew...

The last word anyone could use to describe him was godless. He had gods coming for him out of the woodwork.

The king didn't move as Ryssa stepped past him. He stood in the doorway, glaring his anger at Acheron. "So you've finally given up calling me your father?"

Acheron shrugged. "Believe me, I know you're not my father. And I'm sure your son is waiting below to hear your most precious ode to him."

He must be drunk. "You're to stay here."

"Don't worry. I have no intention of fucking up your party." Yet... Of course had his original plan worked out, the king would be mourning his beloved son right now.

I should have the bastard beaten, except it would cast a pall on Styxx's party. That smug prick... The king withdrew and closed his door.

Acheron shook his head, trying to clear it of the king's thoughts. He picked up Ryssa's gift to study it. How ironic that she would give him this tonight. It was as if his mother had somehow guided her to it.

"Apostolos?"

He froze at the hesitant female voice he'd heard so many times in his life and thought himself mad. "Matera?"

"My baby. I swear I will avenge you. But we must be careful. Xiamara will return and show you how to use your powers. Leave them alone for now so that Archon can't find you. Stay hidden and when the others have ceased their machinations, she will lead you to me and I will make sure no one ever hurts you again. I swear it on my life."

He felt the lightest whisper of air against his cheek... like a small caress before the air was still again.

Clenching his teeth, he felt the pain overwhelm him. His mother loved him... His real mother.

He wanted to see her desperately. To know, just once, what it felt like to have a parent look on him the way the king looked at Styxx or Ryssa. With pride. With love.

I'm wanted.

More than that, Artemis would no longer have to be ashamed of him. While it was unseemly for a goddess to be with a whore, there was nothing shameful about being with another god.

She could love him openly...

He wanted to shout in joy. Holding Ryssa's bracelet to his chest, he smiled at the thought of telling Artemis what had happened to him. Surely she'd be thrilled.

How could she not?

Yet he still had a strange sense of foreboding that warned him he should be afraid of what tomorrow would bring.

June 24, 9527 BC

Acheron paced the floor, desperate for Artemis to appear so that he could surprise her with his newfound role. The morning had been interesting as he discovered new things about himself. He could move objects with nothing more than a thought. Like Artemis, he could teleport outside and back in. Granted his mother had told him not to use these powers, but honestly he couldn't help it. They were much more in control of him than the other way around.

And still he heard the voices from the people around him and even off in far lands. Sometimes so loud the pain of it drove him to his knees. Every single thought. The entire world was laid bare at his feet.

The only peace he had was around Apollodorus whose desires were simple. Eat, sleep and be held and loved. There was so much solace in simply holding his nephew that it eased all the other voices screaming at him and allowed Acheron to focus and ground himself.

"Acheron?"

He turned around as Ryssa exploded into his room in a flurry with Apollodorus in her arms. Apollo is such an ass. I'm so tired of being his plaything or food. He thinks I have no purpose but to come to him the moment he snaps his fingers. "I have to go for a little bit. Could you please watch Apollodorus? His nurse can't get him to stop fussing and I can't tend him right now." His father is a selfish pig who thinks I'm his trained bitch. "I hope you don't mind."

Acheron shook his head in an effort to determine what he heard with his ears versus his mind. It was extremely disconcerting. "I don't mind." He took Apollodorus from her arms.

Mama? Hold me...

Acheron tightened his grip on his nephew. "I have him. Don't worry."

"Thank you." I don't know what I'd do without you, akribos. You're the only one I can depend on. The rest of them are worthless. "I'll be back as soon as I can." She placed a quick kiss on Apollodorus's head, then ran out of the room, cursing Apollo with every step.

He looked at his nephew who was watching him curiously. "I had no idea your mother knew such language."

Apollodorus laughed as if he understood. Theo play with me?

"Absolutely." Acheron knelt on the floor and put him on his feet so that Apollodorus could hold onto him and walk.

Appie love theo.

Acheron smiled at the boy's nickname for himself. Appie loves his uncle. He treasured those words. Closing his eyes, he tried to see the man his nephew would grow into, but as with Ryssa, he saw nothing. It was so odd. Everyone who came near him, he saw their future with utmost clarity.

Why not those closest to him?

Apollodorus fell back on his rump to suck his thumb.

"So what shall the two of us do while your mama is away?"

Tickle belly.

Acheron laughed. "All right." He obliged and Apollodorus squealed in delight. He rolled onto his back and kicked his legs while he held Acheron's hand to his stomach.

The pure simplicity of his nephew's joy and love touched him so deep inside that he wanted to hold the child for the rest of eternity and keep him safe. There was nothing he loved more than this one tiny being. He prayed it would always be like this between them. That no hurtful words or actions would drive them apart.

What would the child think when he grew older and Styxx and his father told him what Acheron had been? Would it matter to the child that all of it had been against Acheron's will? That he would never have done it had there been any choice?

Or worse, would he be like Maia...

His gut tightened with the thought. Picking up the boy, Acheron held him against his chest as tightly as he could without hurting him. "Please don't ever hate me, Appie. I couldn't take that from you."

Appie loves theo.

Acheron cherished every syllable.

"How touching."

He opened his eyes to find Artemis standing in front of them. "Have you ever seen Apollodorus?"

She shrugged. "Not really. Apollo has bastards aplenty. But he is cute enough I suppose for a smelly small human."

Acheron tried to hear her thoughts. But unlike the humans, it wasn't easy. He had to strain for it and then he could only get pieces of them.

Put the child down. I wanted to be with you. "Where's its mother?"

"With Apollo."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Doesn't that thing have a keeper?"

"Yes and at the moment, the keeper would be me."

She put her hands on her hips.

"Sit down, Artie and meet your nephew. His bites don't hurt." Unlike hers.

Her entire demeanor showed her agitation as she sat down beside them. "Is it wet?"

"He's not wet."

Apollodorus held one hand in his mouth as he stared curiously at Artemis. She's not right, theo...

Acheron laughed at the thought.

Artemis glared at them. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he said, wondering why she couldn't hear the boy's thoughts too. It made him curious how much the powers of the gods differed from each other—maybe there were a lot of things he could do that she couldn't... "As a god, do you ever hear what other people are thinking?"

She rolled her eyes. "I do my best not to. They're always boring. Either they're scheming to hurt someone or begging for something. People are insects."

Her rabid hostility caught him off guard. Although some of the people he'd known in his life were so low, he wouldn't insult an insect by linking them to the cretins who'd abused him. "Including me?"

She brushed her hand through his hair. "No. You're quiet to me. I never hear your thoughts. It's why I like being with you."

He found it disconcerting that he couldn't hear what she was thinking.

Still, as a god, shouldn't she know when she was sitting next to another one? How could she not know what had happened to him last night? "Do you sense anything different about me?"

"Other than the fact you're cuddling a smelly boy, no." She dropped her hand. "I know you humans put a lot of stock in the anniversaries of your birth, but really all it marks is one year closer to death. Who'd want to celebrate that?"

Acheron snorted at her answer. So she couldn't sense his unlocked godhood. Fascinating. "I wasn't talking about my age."

"Then what? You haven't cut your hair and I can tell by the way the small thing is climbing on you and you're not wincing that you haven't been beaten. What else has happened?"

The fact that she could be so cavalier about his beatings set his anger off. The bitch should have to suffer through the pain and humiliation of one to understand it wasn't something to be taken so lightly. "Nothing."

She waved his hostile answer away dismissively. "You're such an odd man."

Apollodorus crawled over to Artemis. They stared at each other for a full minute before he smiled and put his wet hand on her arm.

"Ow! Disgusting." She wiped it away.

Acheron held his arms out and Apollodorus returned to him.

"How do you stand that?" Artemis shivered as he picked the boy up and Apollodorus gave him a wet kiss on his cheek.

"I love him, Artie. There's nothing disgusting about him."

She shivered even harder as if it were the most repulsive thing she could imagine. "You want your own child, don't you?" Her accusatory tone amazed him. It was as if she thought him an imbecile for wanting something like that.

Acheron held his nephew close as he considered a question that had never crossed his mind. "Since I can't have any, I've never thought about it really."

"But if you could?"

He looked at his nephew and smiled. He'd give anything to be able to create something so precious. "I can think of no greater gift than to have my own child look at me the way Appie does."

"Then we should find a baby for you."

He scoffed at the thought before he changed the subject to one that really mattered and was a lot more feasible. "Tell me something, Artie. If I were a god, would you acknowledge our friendship to other people?"

She made a sound of utter disgust in the back of her throat. "You're not a god, Acheron."

"But if I were..."

"Why do you ponder such ridiculous thoughts?"

"Why do you avoid answering me?"

"Because it doesn't matter. You're not a god. I told you, your eyes are a deformity. Nothing more."

How could a god be so blind as not to see another of its kind? Or was his mother really so powerful that she'd managed to shield him so completely from all gods? "And you've never known a god to have eyes like mine?"

Дата добавления: 2015-10-30