My jaw slackened. "You're not serious?"
By his face, I could tell that he was. "Please, Highness. Listen to me in this. The last thing I want is to see either one of you harmed. We need to leave."
"Why didn't you tell me about the brand before the smith removed his bands?"
"Highness, I'm a freed slave. It's not in my nature to question my betters. I love and serve you and should the gods decree, I'd give my life for yours."
He was right. I'd seen my father and Styxx beat many a servant for hesitating after they'd given the servant an order.
Nodding, I went to Acheron who still hadn't moved. "Come, Acheron, we must hurry."
He looked at me then with his eyes filled with despair. "Idikos will punish me harshly for this. Have you any idea what you've done?"
"Estes is not going to hurt you ever again. I'm your sister and my word to you, you are safe."
He shook his head in denial. "He will find me. He always does."
"How many times have you escaped?"
"Enough to know it's not worth it."
"This time, it will be." At least that's what I was hoping. And by all the gods, I intended to make it so. No one deserved to live in fear. No one deserved to be mocked and abused. Especially not a boy who had been born a prince.
But even as I promised myself I'd protect him, a part of me wondered if I could.
Like Acheron and Boraxis, I, too, was prisoner to my station. And even against my will, my wings were often clipped.
November 15, 9532 BC
It had been a week since we'd left Atlantis. A week I'd traveled with my brother who didn't know laughter or smiles. Or even how to form an opinion of his own. Whenever I asked, his response was always the same. "Your will is my will, Idika."
It was enough to make me scream.
The last part of our trip was again by ship, but this time we purchased a private vessel to take us to the island where our father ruled as king. I didn't want to take any more chances with Acheron or his safety. And the longer I was with him, the more I understood. He held an unnatural sexual magnetism.
Everyone who saw him wanted to touch him. To possess him. It was why he kept himself completely covered whenever we ventured into public. Why he cringed whenever someone neared him. Not even I was fully immune to whatever that unholy draw was and it sickened me that I could feel that way toward my own brother. The worst part was, I could tell when he knew my thoughts. He would tense as if bracing himself for my attack.
But I would never hurt him or touch him in such a manner. Still, he didn't trust me and honestly I couldn't blame him for it given his experiences.
He said Estes protected him. I knew the truth. There was no protection in what our uncle did, he only controlled how many people attacked Acheron at once.
May the gods punish Estes for it.
How could I have been so blind to such a monster all these years?
How could my father ever allow this? I preferred to think he didn't know anything about it. It was the only way I could live. And I hoped with every part of myself that I never laid eyes on my uncle again.
It was our fifth day into the journey that Boraxis finally explained to me why Acheron was so pale and given to attacks of extreme sweating and vomiting.
It was the drugs Estes had used to control him. The orange scent I'd smelled was from the aphrodisiac they used to make him crave sex and the other was an inhaled substance to make him more pliant and accepting of what was done to him.
Acheron was so weak now that it frightened me. We needed to find a physician who could help. Boraxis kept telling me the best thing would be to buy our own supply of the drugs and keep him on them. But I couldn't do that to my own brother. He needed to live his life free of such things.
Surely he wouldn't continue to be ill from them. They had to pass out of his system eventually. Yet every day he seemed to grow weaker and weaker.
And now at last, we were home.
The palace loomed before us as we approached in a covered chariot. I didn't dare travel with Acheron in the open where any stray breeze might blow his cowl back and expose him. People could become quite violent at the sight of him and we'd already had to have Boraxis get rough with several of the more persistent.
I swallowed as we entered the palace gates and drew near the entrance. After all my bravado of telling Acheron how welcomed he would be by his family, I felt my courage wavering.
What if he was right? What if Father didn't care? For all I knew, Father was aware of what Estes was doing to him. He might even condone it. The very thought made me ill, but it was something I had to prepare myself for. It was possible.
Acheron had been hurt so much already that I was afraid of hurting him anymore. Trust was a fragile thing and he was only now beginning to trust me. I didn't want anything to damage that.
Or him.
So I took him through the side entrance and led him to my chambers where no one would disturb him.
"I'm going to Father. You wait here and I'll be back very soon."
Acheron didn't speak. He was shaking uncontrollably again. Instead, he nodded before he went to a corner and sat down on the floor with his back against the wall. He was so well covered that he looked like a sack of grain on the floor.
I picked up a clay urn from beside my hearth and placed it beside him. "Should you get sick."
Again, he didn't respond in any way.
Saddened by that, I turned to Boraxis. "Stay with him and make sure no one disturbs him."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Hoping for the best, I left them in my chambers and went to speak to Father alone.
I found him in the outer courtyard with Styxx. The two of them were reclining on cushioned chairs while they ate a light repast of honey and bread as Father instructed Styxx on matters of state. They were surrounded by servants who were attending their every need. How lush a sight they made.
Styxx's blond hair gleamed in the sunlight. His skin glistened with vitality. There was no grayish cast to it from his being forced to take drugs so that others could abuse him. Even from my distance, I could see his arrogance as he ordered everyone around.
I thought of Acheron and wanted to scream at the injustice.
"Hey, it's lamb-head," Styxx said as he saw me. The little ogre had always mocked my curly blond hair. "Where have you been?"
"Away," I told him. The troll didn't need to know my business. "Father, might I have a word alone with you?"
He cast a smug glance toward Styxx. "Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of your brother. One day Styxx will be your king, and you will be answerable to him."
The thought made my blood run cold.
"That's right," Styxx said snidely. "That means you have to kiss my feet just like everyone else."
Father laughed at him. "You're such a scamp."
I bit my lip to keep my silence. How could he not see what a spoiled, obnoxious little troll Styxx was? But then Father had always been blind to Styxx's apish ways.
"So why are you here, kitten?" Father asked. "Do you wish a new trinket or clothes?" The man had always indulged me. At least on anything that didn't involve Acheron.
"No. I want to bring Acheron home."
Father sputtered at my request. "Now see here, what has gotten into your head? I've told you repeatedly how I feel. That monster doesn't belong here."
Styxx curled his lips. "Why would you want him here? He's a danger to all of us."
"A danger how?" But then this was so familiar an argument, I could answer with their excuses before they did.
My father curled his lip. "You don't know what a demigod is capable of. He could kill your brother while he sleeps. Kill me. Kill all of us."
How could he say that? Acheron had never once made any attack on me. He didn't even raise his voice. "Why do you not fear for Estes?"
"Estes keeps him under control."
With drugs. So Father had known about that part of it. It was all I could do to keep my anger from showing. And it made me wonder what else he knew about Acheron's treatment.
"Acheron belongs here, with us."
Father came to his feet. "You are a woman, Ryssa, and a young one at that. Your mind is best occupied with fashion and decorating. Planning your dress for a party. Acheron doesn't belong in this family. He never will. Now go find your mother and gossip. Styxx and I have important matters to discuss."
Like which of the serving maids Styxx would bed next . . . Matters so much more important than his eldest son's life.
I glared at him. "Matters more important than your own son?"