Styxx

June 25, 9527 BC



Just After Midnight



Styxx opened his eyes, but he was still too disoriented to make sense of what had awakened him.



Several seconds later, he heard his nephew crying. Then silence. That must have been what had jerked him from his sleep. Apollodorus still wasn't sleeping through the night. It was nothing for his nephew to wake him up at strange intervals.



And soon that would be the sound of his own son waking him. He couldn't wait.



But he knew better than to try to help out with Ryssa's child. Especially after today's fiasco.



Only Acheron had those privileges.



Forget it. Don't waste time thinking about them and their hatred. Tomorrow he'd be on his way to Bethany and nothing would stop him.



* * *



Bethany woke up in a cold sweat. Her stomach burned with indigestion while her son played and bounced happily inside her. Rolling to her left side, she placed her hand over him. "You have got to stop kicking me, little bit. I can't sleep with you frolicking so."



He brushed a foot or hand against her touch as if he knew she was talking to him.



"You're smarting back to me already.... What am I going to do with you, boy?"



But she knew. She'd love him with every part of her being.



An instant later, sadness stole her smile as she missed having Styxx beside her in bed. If he were here, he'd be pressed up against her back and cradling her with his long hard naked body. He'd have his arm draped across her hip so as not to hurt her or the baby, and his muscled masculine thigh would be resting between hers. Best of all, his face would be buried in her hair. She still didn't know how he could sleep like that and not feel suffocated by it. Yet he never complained.



Bethany!



She jerked at her mother's shrill call.



Please, daughter! I need to see you.



Tempted to ignore her, she felt her son kick again. How could she turn her back on her own mother now that she understood motherhood more than she ever had before? Besides, after tomorrow, she'd be human and she wouldn't have any way whatsoever to go to her mother on her own.



Sighing, she summoned clothes for her body and teleported herself from her Egyptian temple to the main hall on Katateros where her mother waited with the others.



Complete silence rang out at her appearance as every pair of eyes stared at her distended stomach.



She gave them all a droll smirk, irritated that they'd only just now realized her condition. "Yes, gods, I'm pregnant. Now what do you need?"



Her jaw completely slack, her mother approached her slowly. "Why didn't you tell me?"



"I was planning to once this mess blew over. Since all of you were so concerned about Apollymi, I didn't want to distract you."



Archon glared at her. "Who's the father?"



"A mortal. Not that it's any of your concern."



Their collective derision didn't endear them to her.



Bethany curled her lip. "Hence why I didn't want to come here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd rather be with my family members who aren't such snobs."



Her mother gently touched her arm before she could leave. "Pay them no attention, child. I, for one, am thrilled to be a grandmother, immortal or not. Especially to such a strong boy."



Tears welled in her eyes. "Thank you, Matera. Now why did you call me?"



"Apollymi is summoning her army and expanding it. We know she's about to attack and we wanted everyone to be prepared."



Chara nodded grimly. "We've been told she's planning to move in three days. We're fortifying, and now that we know you're expecting, you'd best stay in Egypt where your father and the others can protect you from her."



"But before you leave..." Her mother took her hand and led her from the hall to the temple her mother was sharing with Agapa while Apollymi was confined to the palace her mother used to call home. "I would like a few more details about my grandson and his father."



Thus the real reason Bethany had gone into hiding once she could no longer disguise her pregnancy. How could she tell her family that Styxx of Didymos was the father? Especially since she was the only member of the entire Atlantean pantheon who didn't want to plant a sword through his heart.



And whenever she thought about that, she wanted their blood over what they had done to him.



"There's not much to tell, Matera. He's the Greek I've been in love with for several years now."



"Hector?"



Bethany was surprised her mother remembered the name. Then again ...



Symfora was her mother, and she did love her.



Bethany rubbed her hand over her stomach. She'd never be able to forget anything about her child either. "Yes, it's my Hector."



Which wasn't a lie.



Her mother smiled. "I'm so happy for you. There is nothing sweeter than holding your baby for the first time. And then to watch it grow..." Tears glistened in her eyes as she brushed a strand of hair back from Bethany's face. "You've no idea how much love I have for you, Bet. How proud I am of you. I know you're centuries old and yet, whenever I look at you, I still see this adorable little baby with curls flying everywhere and chubby cheeks and gold eyes that melt my heart every time I look into them. And what I miss most are those times when you'd be afraid and you'd run to me and hide your little face in my shoulder." She touched Bethany's stomach. "And now you'll know that feeling, too. So have you thought of a name for him?"



She barely caught herself before she answered. They planned to name him Galen, but if she said the name, her mother might recognize it. "We're not sure yet."



"Well whatever you decide, I'm sure it'll be perfect."



She paused as she watched her mother gathering her weapons. "Matera? I've been thinking. Since I'll be in Egypt for a while, why don't you use my temple here?"



Her mother kissed her brow without answering. "I have missed you so, my heart."



"Me, too."



She put her hands on Bethany's shoulders. "May I be selfish? Would you spend tonight with me? You can always go back to Egypt in the morning."



Bethany hesitated. Tomorrow she needed to visit Ma'at about the serum and she wanted to watch over Styxx as he made his way to her.



But what would it hurt to stay one last night with her mother? Had she not been pregnant, she might have left. As it was, she couldn't bring herself to go. Not while her mother looked at her like that and she understood a mother's love. "All right, but what about Apollymi?"



"You'll be long gone before she launches her plans. For one night, let's be as we used to. Just the two of us and our teas."



Bethany smiled. It'd been a ritual since she was a child. Whenever she'd returned home from her father's, her mother would sequester her for two days of uninterrupted "girl time." As much as she loved and adored her father, she'd treasured those times most of all. It was always so nice to not have to share her mother with anyone. Her father had done a similar thing whenever she'd go to visit him. He'd drive her across the desert, straight into the heart of his domain, and they'd hunt in his private preserve. Just the two of them and no one else. It was why her bow meant so much to her. Her father had given her that bow the first time she'd visited him in Egypt.



Unlike Styxx, she'd been fortuitous with her parents. The only thing they'd competed over was trying to show her how much they loved and supported her. How much they missed her whenever she was gone from them.



It was something she was going to spend the rest of eternity teaching to Styxx and their son, and all their future children.



Taking her mother's hand, she led her to her temple. "Matera? Would you be upset if I told you something?"



"You can tell me anything. You know that."



"Promise you won't tell anyone else?"



"Of course."



"I have Aunt Ma'at working on a concoction that will make me mortal."



Her mother froze. "What?"



She nodded. "I've thought about it long and hard. I don't want to live eternity without my husband."



"You love him that much?"



"He is everything to me."



"And you are everything to me, child. Could we not make him immortal?"



"I don't think that would please him. And I don't want us to be torn apart by pantheon politics. I'm through with it."



Her mother closed her eyes and winced. "I can't say that your decision pleases me. But it doesn't displease me either. I just want you happy."



"This will make me very happy."



"Can I be there when you transform?"



And this was why she loved her mother so. "Absolutely."



"Then come, Bet. Let us celebrate your new life and your new baby."



June 25, 9527 BC



Styxx woke up to a vicious headache. His stomach pitched, but settled as soon as he sat up. However, the room spun like a whirlwind around him. He leaned back against the wall then pulled the bandage back from his stomach to examine the wound Ryssa had given him. While it continued to sting and was extremely sore, it was much better.



Once he washed and dressed, he'd be able to leave. Thank the gods for some small favors.



On unsteady feet, he quickly prepared himself for his trip. Not even his nosebleed was going to stop him. He only paused long enough to grab his saddlebags and a cloth for his nose.



"Antio," he said with bitter sarcasm to the room and palace, bidding them all his final adieu. He would say good-bye to his family, if he'd had some to leave. As it was, the sooner he got out of here, the happier he'd be.



But as he walked toward the stairs, he saw something strange leaking out from beneath Ryssa's door. He started to ignore it then stopped.



Something wasn't right.



Ryssa should still be screaming over the injustice done to her. Yet there wasn't a single sound and it was close to midday. Not even Apollodorus seemed to be awake.



And as he neared the door to see the red liquid, he realized he couldn't hear their thoughts either.



He stood outside the door, staring at the blood on the floor, as a thousand emotions speared him at once. Panic, trepidation, anger, but it was grief that overwhelmed him. Because he knew what had to be on the other side of the closed door.



"Please, Ryssa, no," he breathed as tears stung his eyes. It would be so like her to kill herself and the baby as a way of punishing them all. That was just the kind of dramatics she specialized in.



For a moment, he thought Acheron would be with her, but if he were dead, Styxx wouldn't be here.



Styxx set down the saddlebags and reached with a trembling hand for the latch. Please, please, let me be wrong.



Terrified, he pushed open the door.



He was wrong, all right. But not in a better way. His head spun even more as he saw a scene that slammed him back into battlefield memories. For a full minute, he couldn't move as he took in the slaughtered remains of his sister, her nurse, and his nephew. Someone had torn them apart and tried to make it appear as if an animal had done it. But he'd been a soldier long enough to know human brutality when he saw it. Animals wouldn't have slunk off and left this behind.



Tears scalded his cheeks as he remained frozen in the doorway. Who would have done such a thing? But more than that, how could this have happened with him and Acheron just rooms away?



And where were her guards?



Why hadn't his stupid, bastard brother been here to fight for the sister who'd loved him above all things? Even though she hated him, Styxx would given his life to defend her and the baby. How could Acheron not have heard them? His room was right here. Surely, she'd screamed and cried for help.



Guilt racked him that he hadn't heard her. How could I have slept through this? He never slept through a night. Ever. Why had he not been prowling the hallways last night as had been his custom since childhood?



Damn you, gods ... damn you!



"Styxx?"



He didn't react to his father's voice at all. He was completely catatonic from the emotions that assailed him. By images of battle and soldiers laid out in broken pieces like this.



But they hadn't been his defenseless, frail sister and her infant son.



His father screamed in agony as he saw them, and ran past Styxx to gather her remains into his arms and rock her as if she were a baby. "What did you do! How could you!"



Styxx stumbled back at the accusation. He gasped for breath. "You think I could do this?"



"You're a soldier. She stabbed you."



So?



"But I didn't retaliate on my own sister. Dear gods, is this really what you think of me?"



His father didn't answer as he wailed and rocked her. His screams were loud enough to rouse the dead. And still his brother didn't come.



Baffled, Styxx went to find him.



He threw open the doors to Acheron's room to see his brother flinching in bed as if he'd just awakened. "Not so loud," he whispered.



Un-fucking-believable. Ryssa was slaughtered just a few feet away while Acheron had laid up drunk and hadn't protected her. Fury and his own guilt over the fact he'd been high, too, ravaged his heart. He'd only been out of it because she'd stabbed him and tried to kill him.



But Acheron ...



He was the one she loved. The one she trusted. Why hadn't he been with her, soothing her as she condemned Styxx? Why had Acheron left her alone last night?



Yet the worse sting was the fact that she'd died hating him and now he would never be able to explain the matter to her. Never have a chance to make amends.



Wanting blood for the injustice of it all, Styxx grabbed his brother by the throat. He shoved Acheron back on the bed to straddle him. "Are you drunk?"



Acheron shook his head. But it was painfully obvious Acheron was still under the effects of something. He reeked of it.



Blind with grief, guilt, and fury, Styxx backhanded him. He pulled the chest of herbs from the table next to the bed and flung them into Acheron's face. "You worthless whore. You lie in here on your drugs and drunk while my sister was murdered!"



Styxx punched him again and again. Yet it wasn't really Acheron he was beating. It was himself and he knew it. His allegations toward his brother were the same ones he had in his head for himself.



How could I have done to this to her?



Because I'm a worthless whore, too ...



Acheron shoved him back. "What did you say?"



Styxx glared at him. "Ryssa's dead, you bastard!"



Completely naked, Acheron shot from his bed and staggered down the hallway to Ryssa's rooms.



His heart splintered and his emotions ragged, Styxx followed him.



Just before the bed, Acheron fell to his knees as he cried out in agony. "I heard them," he whispered.



His side bleeding, Styxx winced as more rage clouded his vision. Why didn't you do something? Why, Acheron?



Then he heard Acheron's thoughts in his head. Damn you, Artemis! I have the powers of a god and couldn't save the two people I loved most. Because of you, bitch!



And I heard them. I heard Ryssa crying out for help. Apollodorus screaming for me to come to him ...



Those words exploded in Styxx's heart and mind. Acheron had heard them and done nothing.



Nothing!



They had begged him for help.... How could he?



Unable to stand it, Styxx kicked him in the ribs, knocking him to his side. Ignoring the pain it caused him, he stomped Acheron in the stomach. But it wasn't enough. It didn't even begin to assuage the agony inside him. Growling, he straddled Acheron and slammed his head against the stone floor over and over again until his own vision was blurred from it. "Why wasn't it you, you worthless maggot!"



Then they both would have been dead and Ryssa alive.



Roaring, Acheron shoved Styxx away from him. Styxx lay in a heap as the stitches were torn open and he bled anew.



Suddenly, a bright light exploded in the room. Styxx looked away as Acheron lifted his arm to shield his eyes.



Apollo appeared before them. Total silence descended as the god looked slowly around the room, taking in every single bloody detail. Even his father had stopped crying in expectation of the god's reaction.



The Greek god didn't speak as he saw Ryssa lying dead in her father's arms, and his son's lifeless body still in the arms of his savaged nurse.



"Who did this?" Apollo demanded through clenched teeth.



Tears stinging his eyes, Styxx pointed to Acheron as his brother's thoughts rang out in his head. "He let them die."



Apollo spun on his brother and hit him with his fist so hard that it lifted Acheron from the ground and slammed him into the wall ten feet above the floor. Then he was thrown to the ground.



Styxx hit the deck as physical agony overrode his mental anguish. It hurt so badly, he couldn't breathe. More blood gushed from his wound.



Apollo grabbed Acheron by the hair and wrenched his head. His brother tried to fight the god, but Styxx knew from experience it was futile unless you were extremely well-trained. Apollo was so much stronger there was nothing they could do except bleed.



Even so, he wanted to help Acheron fight against the Olympian who had never loved their sister, but Styxx couldn't move. It felt as if every bone in his body was broken.



The god backhanded his brother. Blood and pain exploded as both their noses were broken and their lips split. The god set on Acheron with the same ruthless fury he'd used the first time he'd attacked Styxx after battle. There was no way to defend against Apollo's onslaught. Acheron was just as helpless as Styxx had been.



"Artemis!" Acheron shouted.



"Don't you dare say my sister's name, you filthy whore!" Apollo grabbed a dagger from his waist and snatched at Acheron's tongue. He sliced it off.



Styxx choked on blood as he lost his own. Tears streamed from his eyes as unimaginable pain throbbed. We're going to die.



Apollo wasn't about to let them live. And he knew it wasn't because the god had loved Ryssa. It was because he viewed this as a personal slap to him.



Just like their father.



Styxx panicked as he realized he would never see Bethany again. Never breathe in the precious scent of her body. Or be there when his son was born.



I won't get to say good-bye.



Acheron tried to crawl away from Apollo. But Apollo grabbed him by the throat in a grip so searing it burned the god's handprint into his skin.



Styxx arched his back as he felt it on his own flesh.



"Akri! No!" Suddenly a demon appeared and dove for Apollo. With dark wings and swirling skin, she knocked the god back from Acheron and put herself between them.



"Out of my way, demon," Apollo demanded.



Her response was to launch herself at the god. The two of them tangled in a flurry of light and feathers as they pounded each other.



Styxx fought against unconsciousness. He didn't want to die. Not like this. And not now when Bethany needed him most.



She would be devastated. He didn't want to leave her with the legacy of birthing a child while knowing he would never see his son. Most of all, he didn't want to leave them unprotected in such a brutal world that would never take mercy on either of them.



Please don't let me die....



Not for him, but for them. He had to live.



Styxx tried to rise so that he could join the fight while Acheron crawled to where the god's knife had fallen.



Apollo blasted Styxx back.



Acheron seized the knife and spun on the combatants. The moment he touched it, the blade of the knife began to glow. His brother raced toward them.



Styxx pushed himself to his feet just as Acheron reached Apollo. The god knocked the demon back, into Acheron, impaling her on the knife in Acheron's hands. Eyes wide, the demon stared down at the knife then staggered away with a small cry of pain.



Acheron grabbed her against him as she struggled to breathe.



She lifted a bloodied hand to place it to his cheek. "Apollymi loves you," she whispered in Charonte-a language Styxx somehow understood even though he'd never heard it before. "Protect your mother, Apostolos. Be strong for her and for me...." And then the light faded from her eyes as her final breath left her body.



Acheron threw his head back and let out a strangled cry. Grabbing the knife, he spun on Apollo.



Apollo caught his brother's hand and wrested the knife from him. The god seized Acheron again by the throat and threw him down to the ground. Acheron kicked him back and rolled to his side.



Styxx felt another Olympian presence in the room. Expecting Athena, he was stunned to see Artemis cowering in the shadows.



The bitch who'd played with his brother wouldn't even stand up for him now.



Yet he knew if Bethany was here, she'd fight for them both. Him and Acheron. She would never be able to stand back and watch this.



I'm sorry, Acheron. Artemis's thought repulsed him.



In spite of everything that had happened, his brother deserved more than this betrayal. Just as Styxx deserved to see his son born.



Acheron reached a hand out toward the only woman Styxx knew his brother had ever loved.



She shook her head no and stepped back.



Oh, bitch, you better be glad I can't fight. For that alone he'd have cut Artemis's throat if he could get to her.



No one deserved to be annihilated and denied like that. Not by the woman they loved. It was beyond cruel.



And with that action, Styxx knew she'd condemned them both to die. He saw the fight go out of his brother as Acheron rolled over onto his back at the same time Apollo appeared before him. Blithely, Acheron met the god's angry glare and made no further move to protect himself.



Styxx lunged at them, but slipped on blood and fell.



Growling in rage, Apollo sank his dagger deep inside Acheron's heart and sliced him open all the way to his navel.



Unmitigated agony burned through Styxx as the god slowly and methodically gutted his brother on the floor, no more than three feet from Ryssa's body. His own body registered every brutal cut and slice.



As his vision swam, Styxx's last thought was of the day Bethany had told him she was pregnant, and the happiness he'd held in that one perfect moment as he'd laid his cheek to her stomach and felt her gentle touch in his hair.



I'm so sorry, Beth. I should have been the man you deserved me to be.



Tears fell as the light and pain began to fade for the last time.



June 25, 9527 BC



Tartarus



Hades, the Greek god of death and the Underworld, stood in the center of his throne room, staring in disbelief at their newest arrival who lay in one of the darkest cells of Tartarus.



And he hadn't put his "guest" there ...



Which was one of the more disturbing facts about this whole scenario.



He looked down at the timepiece on his wrist and ground his teeth. It was still three months before his wife would be returned to the Underworld to be with him. But honestly, he had to speak with her.



And, mother-in-law be damned, it couldn't wait.



"Persephone?" he called, hoping her mother wasn't close enough to hear him. The old bitch would have a stroke if she caught them together during her visitation time. Not that it would be a bad thing for her to have one ... if only it would kill her.



An image of his beautiful wife flickered in the darkness by his side. Blond and petite, she was the only light in his darkness. "Butterbean!" she breathed. "I was just missing you something terrible."



He really hated the nicknames she came up with for him. Thank the gods that she only used them when the two of them were alone. Otherwise, he'd be the most mocked of all gods. "Where's your mother?"



"Off looking over some fields, why?"



Good. The last thing he needed was for Demeter to come in and catch them talking.



But that brought him back to his current "dilemma." Anger swept through him as he gestured toward the wall that showed the cells where his prisoners were kept. "I'm getting really sick of cleaning up the messes of the other gods, and right now I'd love to know whose ass I need to bust over this latest fiasco."



She solidified before him. "What's happened?"



Taking her hand, he led her to the cell where they could see inside, but the occupant was completely unable to see them.



At least that was the normal case. In this one, who knew what the occupant could and couldn't see?



He pointed to the blue-fleshed god who lay in a fetal position on the floor. "Any idea who killed that and sent it here?"



Eyes wide, Persephone shook her head. "What is it?"



"Well, I'm not completely sure. I think he's a god ... Atlantean ... maybe. But I've never seen anything like him before. He came in a short time ago and hasn't moved. I'd try to destroy his soul and send him into complete oblivion, but I don't think I have the powers to do it. In fact, I'm pretty sure that just by trying all I'd do is piss him off."



Persephone nodded. "Well, sweetie, my advice to you is if you can't defeat it, befriend it."



"Befriend it how?" As the god of the dead, he wasn't exactly sociable.



Persephone smiled at her husband. Tall and muscular with black hair and eyes, he was gorgeous, even when befuddled and angry. "Wait here." She opened the door to the cell and made her way slowly to the unknown god.



The closer she moved toward him, the more she understood Hades's concern. There was so much power emanating from the god that the air was rife with it. She'd been around the gods her whole life, but this one was different. His marbled blue skin was strangely attractive as it covered a body of perfect proportions. Long black hair fanned out. He had two black horns on top of his head and black lips and claws.



But more frightening than his appearance, he wasn't a god of creation. He was one of ultimate destruction.



Seph, get out of there.



She held her hand up to signal her husband that she was fine. Her legs trembling in trepidation, she reached out to touch the god.



He opened his eyes, which were a yellow-orange encircled by red. They flashed from that to a swirling silver color. And they were filled with raw anguish.



"Am I dead?" he asked, his voice demonic.



"You want to be dead?" She actually dreaded his answer, because if he didn't desire his current location, there could be serious consequences.



"Please tell me I've finally made it. That you're not going to send me back."



Those desperate words tugged at her heart. Reaching out to comfort him, she brushed the black hair back from his blue cheek. "You're dead, but as a god you live."



"I don't understand. I don't want to be any different than anyone else. I just want to be left alone."



Persephone smiled at him. "You can stay here as long as you want." She summoned a pillow for him and tucked it under his head then she covered him with a warm, thick blanket.



"Why are you being so nice to me?"



"Because you seem to need it." She patted him on the arm before she got up. "If you need anything else, I'm Persephone. My husband, Hades, is the one in charge here. You call for us and we'll come."



He gave a subtle nod before he closed his eyes and returned to lying quietly in the darkness.



Mystified by him, she returned to her husband. "He's harmless."



"Harmless, my ass. Seph? Are you insane? Can you not feel the powers he holds?"



"Oh, I feel them. Go near him and you'll have nightmares. But he doesn't desire anything. He's hurt, Hades. Badly. All he wants is to be left alone."



"Yeah, right. Left alone here in my Underworld? Another god whose powers rival mine? How stupid would I have to be? You know there's a reason pantheons don't mix."



"You can ally him," she said, trying to calm him down. "Having a friend is never a bad thing."



"Until the friend takes your hand off."



She shook her head. "Hades..."



"I'm a lot older than you, Seph. I've seen what can happen when one god turns on another."



"And I think he poses no harm to either of us." She lifted herself up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I have to go before my mother finds me missing. You know how she gets when I see you during her time with me."



"Yeah, and a pox on the-"



She playfully pinched his lips together before he could let fly the insult. "I love you both. Now behave and take care of your guest."



Only his wife could get away with treating him like this and being so cavalier with his body. But then she held his heart and he'd give her anything.



He kissed her finger. "I miss you."



"I miss you, too. I'll be home soon."



Soon. Yeah, right ...



But there was nothing to be done about that.



Hades nodded glumly then cursed as she faded away from him. Damn the bitch, Demeter, for cursing them to live apart half the year. But right now he had bigger problems than his wife's mother.



And at about six foot eight, that god-killer in his cell was definitely a big problem.



* * *



Apollymi gasped as she felt the weight in her chest lift. Without being told, she knew that she now had the ability to leave Kalosis.



Leave ...



"No!" she screamed as she realized the significance of that. There was only one way for her to gain her release.



Apostolos is dead.



Those three words chased themselves around in her head until she was nauseated by them.



Unwilling to believe it, she ran to her pond and summoned the universal eye. There in the water, she saw Xiamara, her best friend and protector, lying dead on the palace floor, and Apostolos ...



"No!"



From the deepest part of her being, a scream of rage and grief swelled, and when she gave vent to it, it shattered the pool and rocked the garden around her.



"I am Apollymia Thanata Deia Fonia!" she screamed until her throat was raw.



She was the ultimate destruction.



And she was going to bring her son home.



May the gods have mercy on each other because she was going to have none for them. Every single member of her pantheon would pay for this!



Once she finished, none would be left standing.