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?
Apollymi 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 . . .
Apollymi 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."