Styxx laughed as he and his giant brown dog came out of their tent to greet Urian in the middle of a godforsaken desert. “Depends on your vantage point, little brother.”
Arms akimbo, Urian turned in a circle as he surveyed Styxx’s small black tent and the vast desert that surrounded them as far as the eye could see in all directions. “From mine … you found hell, buddy, except I doubt hell is this hot.”
Still laughing, Styxx closed the distance between them. “It’s not hot. This is winter. Come back in July or August.”
“Yeah, no thanks.” Urian hugged him, then stood back with a severe frown. “Damn, you’ve gone native. But for the blue eyes, I’d have no idea it was you.”
Styxx lowered the black veil from his face. “Better?”
“Not really. Weirds me out more.” He shook his head. “When you called last week and told me you’d been living in the desert for the last two years, I thought you meant Morocco or another city. But you really live out in the middle of Nowhere, Sahara.”
Styxx shrugged. “This place makes sense to me.”
“You might like it, but it’s bringing back bad childhood memories. Life before toilet paper was not worth living.”
“Again, a matter of perspective.”
Urian shivered in revulsion. Styxx was definitely having some kind of midlife crisis. “You look good, by the way. Healthy.”
“Thanks.” Styxx held the flap open so that Urian could go inside, where he had nothing but his bedroll and saddlebags of necessary supplies. “I feel better than I have in a very long time.”
The big brown dog came bounding in and curled up on Styxx’s bedroll to chew his rawhide bone. Urian arched a brow. “What’s his name?”
“Skylos.”
He scowled at Styxx for a name that just seemed cruel. “You named your dog … Dog? Seriously?”
Again, Styxx shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Probably because he doesn’t speak Greek.”
Grinning, Styxx pulled out a bottle of wine and the only two cups he had and poured drinks for them.
Urian sat down beside the dog and took a sip. “So what do you call the horse and camel? Alogo and Kamila?”
Styxx rolled his eyes. “No, they had names when I bought them. Jabar and Wasima. The dog just started following after me one day.”
Urian sighed heavily. “I’d go insane here. How do you cope with the solitude?”
“That was what I had to make peace with. All my life, I hated being alone. After we freed Soteria, it dawned on me that I had to make a choice. Either be part of the modern world or not.”
“You chose poorly, my friend.”
“No, this I understand. It’s the existence I willingly chose on my own. No one incarcerated or dropped me here against my will. Not to mention, I really like not having solid walls that confine me.”
That Urian could understand. Part of what he’d hated about Kalosis had been the claustrophobia. While it had been expansive, he’d known there was a much larger world to be had and so he’d often felt confined there. Boxed in.
Especially with the daylight ban.
But this was too much daylight.
Styxx sat down next to him. “What about you? How have you been?”
Urian reached for the can of cashews. “Same old, same old. Someone’s always trying to take over the world or end it. Really not looking forward to dealing with 2012 and the crap that’s coming out to play with us.” He laughed as he skimmed Styxx from the top of his agal-wrapped black keffiyeh to his desert boots. “It’s really messing with my head how natural you look dressed like a Bedouin. The scimitar and dagger just add to the whole cosplay, Assassin’s Creed thing you got going.”
Styxx laughed. “I also have a handgun tucked at my back, and a rifle.” He inclined his head over to where it rested near his bedroll. “But the sword doesn’t run out of bullets when bandits attack.”
“Another thing I tend to forget. You’re human.”
“There are many who would argue that.”
Urian didn’t respond, especially given the shit he had to take from the rabble, given former Daimon status.
Instead, he opened the backpack he’d brought and handed a dark blue box to Styxx. “I got you something I thought you might like.”
Styxx set his cup aside to take it and open it. A slow smile curled his lips as he saw four new sketchbooks and a pencil set. “Thank you, very much.”
He figured his friend could always use more and had he known where and how he was living, he’d have brought a whole lot more. “Hey, someone with your talent should never be without. That picture you drew of me and Phoebe … incredible. You nailed her looks and you’ve never even seen her, and I can’t thank you enough for leaving that for me. The only pictures I had of her were the ones in my head. Is that why you started drawing?”
He carefully tucked his gift away. “I actually started as a kid. It was one of my favorite things to do until Ryssa saw me and thought I was copying her journals. She had one of her more legendary hissy fits and then when she opened it and saw my feeble attempts at drawing, she laughed and ridiculed them, and ran straight to my father to tell him I’d been wasting my study time and precious parchment on stupidity. He didn’t take it well. He made me burn my sketches and had me whipped. Then he made me earn back all the money I’d squandered on wasting good parchment for foolishness. After that wonderful experience, I had such an aversion to art, I didn’t even want to look at figured pottery.”
Urian cringed at the thought, given how popular such pottery was in their day. “Then how did you learn to draw like that?”
“Vanishing Isle. I didn’t have paper or pencil, but I did have a lot of sticks and a lot of wet sand, and a shit-ton of time. You think I can draw? You should see my sand cities.”
“You mean sand castles?”
“Nah, anyone can build a sand castle. I do entire cities, complete with armies and aqueducts.”
Urian laughed even harder. “I hate to admit it, but I have missed your twisted sense of humor. And I’m stunned you get cell reception out here.”
“I don’t. I was in a town a week ago buying supplies when I called.”
“Ah.” Urian looked around and realized that Styxx was also lacking any form of power. “So how do you charge the phone?”
“Bribe a store clerk to use their outlet for an hour while I shop.”
“You’ve thought of everything.”
Styxx leaned over to his backpack and pulled out a roll of toilet paper, then chucked it at Urian. “I try.”
Laughing, he shook his head. “Dude, that’s so messed up.” Sobering, Urian cleared his throat. “You haven’t asked me about Acheron.”
His expression turned to stone and made Urian regret that he’d brought it up. “I assume he’s doing fine. The world hasn’t ended and I’m not dead.”
“He’s expecting a baby in April.”
Styxx snorted. “That should make medical news then, and I’m sure Soteria is grateful she doesn’t have to go through labor.”
“Wha …?” It took Urian a second to figure out what he meant and then he felt like an idiot. “Ah, gah. Yeah. You knew what I meant.”
He gave him a sarcastic nod. “Do they know what it is?”
“Boy.”
Yeah, that was another somber expression on Styxx’s face that made Urian want to cut out his own tongue. He really needed to change the topic. Obviously, he was stabbing at some deep scars and ripping them open.
Styxx smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m happy for them. I’m sure his son will be handsome and strong.”
He cleared his throat. “So how’s Davyn?”
Urian breathed in relief to finally be on a safe topic. “Insane. I seem to attract that personality type for some reason.”
Styxx smirked. “Aeì koloiòs parà koloiôi hizánei.”
Urian scowled at the old Greek saying as he tried to figure out what Styxx was implying. “A jackdaw is always with a jackdaw?”
“Birds of a feather.”
Urian laughed. “Hey now, I resemble that remark.”
Styxx leaned back so that he could peep through the crack in the tent flap. He set his cup aside. “If you really want to know why I love it here, follow me.”
He was definitely curious, because he couldn’t imagine anything that would make this worthwhile.
Skylos lifted his head, but since Styxx didn’t call him outside with them, he went back to sleep.
As soon as they were out of the tent, Styxx looked up at the sky and started opening the sides of the tent so that they could take advantage of the much cooler night air. “You don’t have a view like that in New York.”
Urian gaped at the sight of the vivid night sky. Styxx was right, he hadn’t seen anything like that in a long, long time. “I’d forgotten how beautiful and bright they are.”
“Yeah. When I was a kid, I’d sit out on my balcony for hours staring at them. Most of the time, I don’t pitch the tent. I sleep out here on the sands, watching them. It was one of the things I missed over the centuries. They don’t exist on the Vanishing Isle or Katateros.”
“Kalosis either. And I never think about the fact that Katateros only has a moon. Alexion said the stars faded when Apollymi killed Astors, I think his name was?”
“Asteros.”
Urian cocked a brow at his answer. “I’m amazed you remember any of their names.”
Again that expression that said he’d stumbled across another brutal memory. Urian kicked himself. He’d come here to make Styxx feel better, but apparently, he was just being an inadvertent asshole.
“Are you hungry?” Styxx asked. “I have dried scorpion, nuts, figs, dates, and apples.”
“And you dared to mock jumbo shrimp?” Urian twisted his face up in distaste. “I really hope the scorpion offer is just to screw with me.”
“No, it’s actually quite good. Tastes like chicken.”
“Ar, ar, ar.” Urian feigned laughter over what he used to default to whenever Styxx would quiz him on what things tasted like in New York. “I’d rather live on blood … or my shoes.”
Styxx tsked. “I might have some beef jerky left.”
“That I could be talked into.”
Grinning, Styxx went back inside. “It’s good to have you here, Urian. I’d forgotten what it was like to actually carry on a real conversation with someone outside my head.”
“Well, now that I know where you are, I might occasionally bother you. As long as you don’t feed me grasshoppers, ants, scorpions, or other nasty multilegged things the gods never intended us to eat.”
“Stop being a baby. Eat your meat or you can’t have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?”
Urian laughed. “I am stunned you know Pink Floyd.”
Styxx shrugged as he opened Skylos’s dinner first and poured it into a small metal bowl. “Modern music is the only thing I miss about your world.”
“Next time I come, I’ll bring you a solar battery charger for your phone. Not like you don’t have an abundant supply of sunlight here.”
“That I do have. Definitely.” Styxx paused as his gaze fell to a small chest near his rifle. He went over to it and opened it, then pulled out an oiled cloth and handed it to Urian. “My gift to you, little brother.”
Urian frowned. “Thank you.” He unwrapped the cloth to find Styxx’s black-and-bronze vambraces. “Wow … how old are these?”
“They were mine back in the day. My mentor, Galen, gave them to me, and I wore them into every battle I fought.”
Urian’s jaw went slack as he realized exactly how old and valuable these were. These were a piece of history. And a treasured piece of Styxx’s past. They needed to go to a son or a museum, not to someone like him. He shook his head. “I can’t take these.”
Styxx pushed them back toward him. “I have no use for them anymore. They’re just something else I have to pack and carry, or worry about losing.”
Urian let out a long, appreciative breath. “These are incredible. I can’t believe how pristine they are. Thank you. I’ll cherish them always.”
His gratitude made Styxx extremely uncomfortable. “I know how much you like to collect antiques. And they don’t get much older than those.” He went to start the campfire so that he could cook their dinner.
Urian carefully wrapped the vambraces back into their cloth and tucked them into his backpack as he watched Styxx. His heart broke for his friend who’d felt so out of place in the world that he’d had to come to the remotest place on it to find some sense of belonging. Urian hadn’t been joking when he said that he’d go insane with this kind of isolation. This was truly a desolate, hard way to live.
But sadly, it was all Styxx knew.
All he’d ever known.
And as sad as it was, at least Styxx had found a place where he belonged. Urian was still looking. He envied Styxx his mental health here. Because the truth was, he didn’t have it.
Not even as a boy. Never in his life had he felt completely at home the way Styxx appeared. The closest he’d come had been in Phoebe’s arms.
Without her …
I’m nothing.
When surrounded by a crowd, he was forever alone. And the apocalypse was coming. If he was smart, he’d just roll with it and let it end his suffering, once and for all. Better to go out a hero, fighting.
Yeah. That would be the perfect ending. At least then, he’d finally be with the women he’d loved. Maybe then, he’d finally have the elusive place called home.