Acheron (Dark-Hunter #14)

Acheron (Dark-Hunter #14) Page 5

He shook his head in denial before he waved his arm toward the palace. "This . . . this is all a dream and I know it. One day, all too soon, I'm going to wake up and it'll be over. I'm going to be right back where I was. Doing things I don't want to do. Being groped and shoved around and beaten. There's no need to pretend otherwise."

How could I make him feel safe and secure? "Why won't you take my word and believe me? The past is over. You have a new future now. Boraxis is on his way to Sumer to deliver my letter to my best friend. Once I have her word, we'll have a safe place where you can go and no one will ever harm you again.

His expression was bleak and cold. "I don't know how to trust, Ryssa. Not you or anyone else. People are unpredictable. The gods more so. Things happen that are out of our control. I want to believe you, I do. But all I hear are the gods' voices, and yours. And then I see things . . . things I don't want to see."

"What kinds of things?"

He turned away and headed for his room.

I ran after him and pulled him to a stop. "Tell me. What do you see?"

"I see myself begging for a mercy that never comes. I see myself cast out into the streets with no place to rest and no one around me willing to help without exacting a payment I don't want to make."

Gods, how I wanted to make him trust in me and the future I was going to make sure he had. "This isn't a dream, Acheron. It's real and I'm not going to let you return to Atlantis. We will find you a home that is safe."

He looked away, his eyes stormy. "Why hasn't Father come? If he loves me as you say, why hasn't he come in all these months to see me? And why are you trying to find me another home?"

"He's busy." I couldn't bear even now to tell him the harsh truth.

"You keep saying that and I try to believe you. But do you know what I remember of him?"

I was almost afraid to ask. "What?"

"I see him holding you away from me while Idikos jerked me out of the room. I've never forgotten the hatred that burned in Father's eyes as he glared at me. I had nightmares for years over that look. And now you tell me that he's forgotten it." A muscle worked in his jaw. "Should I really believe you?"

No, he shouldn't. I was lying, but I couldn't ever let him know the truth. "One day you're going to believe in me, Acheron."

"I hope so, Ryssa. I really do. I want to believe desperately, but I can't afford to be disappointed again. I'm tired of it."

I watched as he turned away and left me standing there. He was so beautiful. Tall. Proud. In spite of everything, he still maintained a dignity I couldn't fathom.

"I love you, Acheron," I whispered, wishing that I wasn't the only one in my family who felt that way toward him.

Why couldn't they see what I did?

And inside was the pain that knew just how right Acheron was. Sooner or later, our father would come. Should that day happen, Father would never forgive me for taking Acheron out of Atlantis. He would never forgive me for the lying letters I'd written about my whereabouts or the people I'd had Boraxis pay on his journey to fool him. I had no doubt that by now both Father and Estes were looking for us while Boraxis scouted a safe haven for Acheron in another country or kingdom.

But I was doing what I thought best for my brother. All I could hope for was that I could guarantee his freedom and happiness-to keep my promises to him. Once he was safely away, I'd return to Didymos and face my father and his wrath.

For Acheron, I would do anything, even jeopardize my own freedom. I only hoped that Boraxis returned before my father thought to search for us here.

May the gods have mercy on us both should that happen.

March 18, 9531 BC

The warmer weather arrived miraculously as Persephone must have returned to her mother's bosom. All my life, I've favored springtime. The rebirth of the land and the beauty. In particular, our island was lovely as the workers come to plant seeds and sing.

But this year, I felt dread as I awaited word of Boraxis. He'd sent a missive only a few days ago, that there might be a place in the Kiza kingdom for Acheron. They have a queen who was rumored to be elderly and kind. Her own sons were dead, and perhaps she might welcome an exiled prince.

I hoped with all my heart that this would be so.

And as each day passes, I fear that Father will extend his search to our oasis. But I am ever hopeful that he might instead find me a husband, and we will be able to bring Acheron into our household so that I can protect him. Then he would be forever beyond my father or uncle's touch.

I won't think of that for now.

The best part of being here has been that the servants have all accepted Acheron and his quirks, and we've formed a very close family of sorts. In Acheron, I've found the brother I've always wanted. Where Styxx is petulant, Acheron has finally learned to laugh without fear of drawing unwanted notice.

Today, I found him with Maia out in the garden. She'd been drawing letters in the dirt with a stick and teaching them to Acheron.

It was then I remembered what he'd told me in Atlantis about being illiterate-the shame that confession had caused him.

"May I help?" I asked as I approached them.

Maia leaned toward Acheron and spoke in that typically loud whisper of hers that was as charming as it was sweet. "She'll make a much better teacher than me. She knows all the letters and how they make words. I only know a few."

Acheron smiled at me. "Would you please?"

His request shocked me to my core. He'd never asked for anything before.

"Absolutely." Taking the stick from Maia, I began lessons for both of them so that they could read.

Acheron was a clever student and absorbed everything I showed him with an aptitude that was absolutely miraculous. "Are Atlantean letters different than the Greek?" he asked as I made my way through the alphabet.

"A few are. They have several vowel diphthongs that we lack."

Maia frowned. "Is their language like our Greek?"

I smiled at her innocent question. "Their language can be very similar to ours. So much so that sometimes you can understand it without knowing the meaning of the words. But it is a separate language. I personally know very little, but Acheron speaks it fluently."

Her face brightened as she turned to face him. "Can you teach it to me?"

Reservation glowed deep in his eyes. "If you like. But it's not a pretty language."

I completely disagreed. Unlike Greek, there was a melodic lilting quality to the Atlantean language that made it seem as if they sang whenever they spoke. It was a joy to hear, but then given Acheron's experiences in Atlantis I could well understand his sentiment about the ugliness of the people and their language.

Acheron turned his attention back to me. "Do the Atlanteans and Greeks share gods too?"

Maia laughed. "Don't you know about the gods, Acheron?"

He shook his head. "I only know the name Zeus because many use it to swear by and someone named Archon and Apollymi."

I frowned at the names of the king and queen of the Atlantean pantheon. "How do you know their names?"

He didn't respond, but the look on his face made me suspect that they must be some of the ones he could hear in his head.

"Well," I said, trying to lighten the sudden malaise, "Zeus is the king of the Olympian gods and his queen is Hera."

"I like Artemis," Maia spoke up. "She's the goddess of the hunt and of childbirth. She's the one who saved my mother's life when I was born and we were so ill. The midwife swore that we'd both die, but my father sacrificed and made offerings to Artemis and she saved us both."

Acheron smiled. "She must be a great goddess indeed and I owe her much that she allowed you to be born."

Maia beamed in happy satisfaction.

Over the course of the afternoon, I ran through a quick lesson of the Greek gods, but unlike the writing, Acheron had a hard time grasping all the names and their titles. It was as if they were so alien to him that he couldn't tell one from another. He constantly confused them.

We spent many hours there until Maia fell to sleep sitting beside Acheron.

His features softened as he looked down at her and cradled her in his arms. "She does this a lot. She'll be chatting away one moment and then fall sound asleep the next. I've never seen anything quite like it."

I smiled as warmth seeped through me. He looked so sweet holding her like a protective father. Given the brutality of his past, his ability to still feel compassion and to show tenderness never ceased to amaze me. "You love her, don't you?"

His expression was one of pure horror and then blatant rage. "I would never touch her that way."

His rancor baffled me until it dawned on me why he was so angry. In his world, love was a physical act and not an emotion. The very thought made my heart ache. "Love doesn't have to be sexual, Acheron. In its purest form it has nothing to do with a physical act."

Confusion lined his brow. "How do you mean?"

I gestured toward the girl he held so protectively in the shelter of his muscular arms. "When you look at Maia, your heart softens, doesn't it?"

He nodded.

"You look at her and all you want to do is keep her safe from harm and take care of her."

"Yes."

I smiled at him. "You want nothing from her except to make her happy."

He cocked his head curiously as he studied my face. "How do you know that?"

"Because that's how I feel about you, little brother. The love you have for her is the same as what I feel whenever I think of you. If you ever needed me, there's no hardship I wouldn't endure to be by your side as quickly as I could."

He swallowed as a haunted look came into his swirling silver eyes. "You love me?"

"With every part of my heart. I would do anything to keep you safe."

For the first time since he'd come here I felt as if I'd finally reached him. And then the most miraculous thing of all happened.

Acheron took my hand. "Then I love you, Ryssa."

Tears clouded my eyes as emotions choked me. "I love you too, akribos. And I don't want you ever to doubt that."

"I won't." He squeezed my hand. "Thank you for coming to get me."

No words had ever meant more to me nor touched me so deeply. My throat was so tight that I couldn't even speak as he let go of my hand to rise with Maia in his arms so that he could take her to her mother. I watched him walk away and hoped with every part of my soul that he would always feel that way toward me. I could stand anything except my brother's hatred.

March 19, 9531 BC

Today I decided to teach Acheron how to read from some of the scrolls I kept in my room. We'd barely begun when I noticed something very different about him.

The balls in his tongue were gone.

"You took them out," I breathed, unable to believe what I was seeing.

His expression was a cross between sheepishness and pride. "I made myself trust you. You say that I'm safe here and that no one is going to take me away again. I want to believe that. So I took them out and am going to trust in the gods that they'll keep me with you."

I cupped his face in my hands, delighted even more that he didn't stiffen, and pulled him into my arms so that I could hug him close. "You're safe here, little brother. I swear it."

For the first time, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me back.

Never had anything touched me more.

I heard someone clearing their throat. Pulling back, I found Petra in the doorway with wine and cheese. "I thought the two of you would like a snack."

I nodded before I pulled away. "That would be wonderful. Thank you."

She inclined her head to me before she placed the tray on a small side table.

Acheron watched until after she'd left us alone before he spoke. "Do you ever think about getting married, Ryssa?"

I hesitated before I poured our cups. "I do sometimes and I wonder why Father hasn't procured me a husband. Most princesses are married long before they reach my age. But Father says he can't find anyone he deems worthy." I smiled. "Truthfully, I'm not in any great hurry. I've seen too many of my friends married to ogres, so if Father wishes to take more time to find me a gentle husband, I can certainly wait. Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking of Petra and her husband. Have you ever noticed the way they laugh whenever they're together? And when they're apart, there's a sadness to them. It's as if they can't bear to be parted even for a few minutes."

I nodded. "They share a great love of one another. It's a pity not all married couples are like that."

"Are our parents like that?"

I glanced away as my memories brought images of the way my parents had been before Styxx and Acheron's births. In those days, they'd loved each other passionately. Seldom had they parted and my father had doted on my mother with a love that appeared unending.

Then their sons had been born. Since that fateful day, my father couldn't stand to be near my mother. He blamed her for Acheron.

"You whored yourself to a god. Don't deny it. There's no other way he could have come from your womb."

The more my mother protested her innocence, the more my father seemed to hate her. Finally she claimed that Zeus had tricked her and that she'd had no idea of his presence in her bed.

Instead of drawing my father closer, her confession had alienated him even more and now he avoided all contact with her.

"No, Acheron," I said quietly before taking a cup to him. "They seldom even see one another unless it's for a state function. Father keeps company with Styxx and his senators while Mother spends a great deal of time lost in her cups." And I hated that. At one time my mother had been wonderful. Now she was a bitter drunkard.

He looked stricken as if he understood why. "Do you think that a woman could ever love me?"

"Of course. Why would you doubt it?"

He swallowed before he answered in a tone so low I barely heard it. "How could anyone ever love me? Idikos says that I only bring shame to all decent people. I'm a fatherless bastard and a worthless whore. Surely no decent woman would ever have something like me."

"That is absolutely not true," I said vehemently. "You are worth this entire world and I assure you that you will find a woman out there, besides me, who sees just how wonderful you really are."

He swallowed hard. "If I'm ever so fortunate, I swear she'll never doubt my affection for her."

"You will be that fortunate."

He smiled at me, but it was hollow and the doubt in his eyes was enough to bring tears to mine.

Clearing my throat, I sought to distract him. "Now let's learn your letters, shall we?"

He returned to the scrolls and for hours I watched as he applied himself with a fervor I'd never seen. And every time he spoke without those balls on his tongue, my heart soared. This was a great victory, and one day soon I would win this war and his past would be put to rest.

May 9, 9531 BC

I was alone in my room when Maia pushed open the door.

"Is Acheron ill?"

I put down my quill to frown at her. "I haven't seen him today. Why do you ask?"

She scratched her nose and looked completely perplexed. "I went to get him so that we could bake today, but he didn't appear well. He said his head was hurting and he was rather sharp with me. Acheron is never sharp with me. Then when I took him some wine for his head, his room was empty. Should I be worried?"

"No, akribos," I said, feigning a smile I didn't feel. "You run to the kitchen and I'll check on him."

"Thank you, Princess." She returned my smile before she skipped out of the room.

Worried about him myself, I opened the doors that led into the courtyard. Acheron had been spending a lot of time out there with the grass and flowers. But he wasn't there now.

My next stop was the orchards. Again, he wasn't to be found.

After a quick search of the house, I was truly becoming concerned. He never strayed very far on his own. And it was truly rare for him to avoid Maia.

Unreasoning panic set in as I headed out of the house to search the grounds again.

Where could he be?

If he were Styxx, I'd most likely find him cavorting with a maid in the privacy of his room. But I knew Acheron would never do such a thing.

Then it dawned on me.

The sea . . .

He hadn't gone there since the wintertime, but I could think of no other place that hadn't been searched. It was the only place he could be. Whispering a quick prayer to the gods that I was right, I made my way down to the beach, toward the rocks where he used to sit.

He wasn't there either.

But as I climbed up, I caught sight of him lying on his back on the sand with the waves rushing over him. My breath caught. He didn't appear to be moving at all.

Soaking wet, he lay in the surf with his eyes closed.

Terrified of the sight, I scrambled down and rushed to his side. Even before I reached him, I could see the pallor of his beautiful face.

"Acheron!" I shouted with fearful tears in my eyes. I was terrified he was dead.

To my instant relief, he opened his eyes to meet my gaze. Still he didn't move.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I sank to my knees beside him. My gown was completely wet and ruined now, but I didn't care. My vanity didn't matter at all. Only my brother did.

He clenched his eyes shut before he spoke in a tone so quiet I could barely hear it over the surf. "The pain isn't so bad if I lie here."

"What pain?"

He reached out to take my hand. His own trembled to such an extent that it returned my fear to me tenfold. "The voices in my head. They're always excruciating on this day, every year."

"I don't understand."

"They keep saying that it's the anniversary of my birth and that I should come to them. But Apollymi is screaming at me to hide and not listen. The louder she shouts, the louder they shout. It's. Unbearable. I just want them to go away. I'm going mad, aren't I?"

Clutching his hand, I wiped his wet hair from his brow and realized that he hadn't shaved. A full day's growth of beard stubbled his chin and cheeks-something he never allowed. Acheron was always impeccably groomed and dressed. "Today isn't the anniversary of your birth. You were born in June."

"I know, but they scream just the same. I fell trying to reach the rocks and discovered that in the sea the voices are muffled."

That made no sense to me. "Why would that help?"

"I don't know. But it does."

A wave rushed to shore, completely covering him. He didn't move at all even though it knocked me sideways. I straightened myself and watched as he coughed up water. Still he made no move to leave the sea.

"You'll catch a chill lying here."

"I don't care. I would rather be sick than hear them yelling at me so loudly."

Desperate to help soothe him, I moved to his head and sat cross-legged on the ground before I pulled his head into my lap. "Is this any better?"

He nodded as he again laced his fingers with mine and led my hand to his heart where he held it. By the tight grip, I knew his head was still aching unmercifully.

We didn't speak for hours as he lay there with my hand on his chest. My legs lost all feeling, but I didn't care. We were gone so long from the house that Petra came out to check on me. She was as confused by Acheron's explanation as I was, but she dutifully left us alone and brought food and wine.

Acheron was in too much pain to eat even though I forced him to nibble at some of the bread.

By nightfall, the voices quieted enough that he was able to push himself up. He was unsteady on his feet.

"Are you all right?" I asked in concern.

"Just a little dizzy from the voices. But they're not so loud now." He draped one arm over my shoulders and together we made our way back to his room.

I had Petra draw him a hot bath while I wrapped a towel around him. He was still pale, his features pinched.

Maia came running in with two glasses of warmed milk. "I was worried about you, Acheron," she admonished.

"I'm sorry, bit. I didn't mean to concern you."

"Are you feeling better?"

He nodded.

"Maia," Petra said from the doorway. "Come away so that Acheron may bathe in peace."

"I put some sugar in the milk," Maia confided before she obeyed her mother. "Hope you feel better soon."

Charmed by her actions, I followed her.

"Ryssa?"

I paused at the door to look back at Acheron who was still wrapped in the towel. "Yes?"

"Thank you for being worried about me and for staying with me today. Now get yourself dried off before you catch a chill."

"Yes, sir," I said with a smile.

I left and closed the door before I made my way to my own room. The doors were still open so I shut them. As I did so, the strangest thing happened.

I heard a vague whisper on the wind.

"Apostolos."

Frowning, I looked about, but couldn't see anyone. Where on earth had the voice come from? More than that, I didn't know anyone named Apostolos.

I shook my head to clear it. "Now I'm hearing Acheron's voices."

It was strange to be sure.

But even as I dismissed it, there was a part of me that wondered about it. Most of all, I wondered if it might be yet another threat to my brother.

Only time would tell.

June 23, 9530 BC

At last word came. The Queen of Kiza had agreed to take Acheron in. The messenger had arrived yesterday with word that Boraxis was on his way here to escort Acheron to safety. He should arrive in another three days.

Elated, I planned to tell Acheron tonight during the surprise celebration for the anniversary of his birth.

My brother was going to be safe. Forever.

Happily we were out in the orchard today. In truth, we'd spent the entire morning there, laughing and sampling the gardener's prized fruit. The orchard was so beautiful. Peaceful. The leaves were a bright, breathtaking green that was punctuated by the golden apples that burst with sweet, succulent taste. Even the old, stone walls were tranquil, draped with flowering vines.

No wonder Acheron preferred it to any other place at the palace. The summer air was fresh and warm and I could have spent hours watching the way Acheron enjoyed the simplest of things such as the sensation of sunlight on his skin. Grass beneath his bare feet.

Of course, his life had held far too little of either one. How I wish I could have given him another life. A better one. The life he deserved where no one had ever hurt him for things he couldn't help. Where people could see in him all the beauty that I saw and understand what a truly gentle soul he possessed.

As I watched him inhale the scent of an apple before he added it to the bunch he'd picked, I was struck by how much he'd changed these last few months.

For once, he reminded me of a youthful seventeen-year-old boy and not a jaded, used-up old man. He'd learned to trust me. To trust in the fact that here he was safe and secure. That no one feared him or was out to seduce him. He could be himself without being obsequious or afraid of being grabbed or hurt. And I prayed he found the same peace in Kiza.

Oh, the pain I felt whenever I thought about his life in Atlantis. How could our uncle have treated him that way? Even now I could see Acheron held in chains. See the shallow emptiness that had been there in his eyes the first time he'd looked at me when he had no idea who I was.

Who he was.

I might have failed him earlier, but I vowed I would not fail him again. Here, he knew peace and happiness. I would try my best to always keep him far away from the world that couldn't understand or abide him.

While he picked the apples, he reminded me of a squirrel as he jumped from tree to tree, gathering his treasure. He was such a handsome boy. In my heart I knew that he and Styxx were twins, and yet as I watched him, I was struck by their differences.

Acheron moved much more gracefully. Fluidly. He was leaner, his hair a tad more golden, his muscles more defined. His skin softer.

And those eyes . . .

They were beguiling and terrifying.

After he was done, he brought his treasure to me and laid it out in a circle so that I could choose which apples I wanted first. He was always considerate that way. Thinking of others before himself.

"Do you think Father will come and visit soon?" he asked as he lay on his side, watching me eat my apple.

I could sense that he was probing me to see if I were lying. His silvery, swirling eyes were so disturbing whenever he held that gimlet stare. No wonder Uncle beat him for looking at people. It was disconcerting and even frightening to be under such bold scrutiny.

But he didn't deserve to be hit for something he couldn't help.

"I'm thinking you and I should take a trip in a few days to visit a queen."

He looked away, disappointed, as he toyed with his own apple.

Wanting to soothe and reassure him, I reached out to brush his golden hair out of his eyes.

"Is that the tenderness of true affection you spoke of?" he asked me in a hesitant voice. "The one where people who love you, touch you without asking for anything in return?"

"Yes," I answered.

He smiled at me, openly and honestly like a child. "I think I like it."

Then I heard something that made my heart stop beating.

There were several footsteps drawing near. I knew there shouldn't be any such sound in our temporary paradise. Petra and Maia were busy in the kitchen. Petra's husband had gone to town and the rest were busy with their duties.

Only one person would come with someone else.

I knew it was Father the instant Acheron sat up, his face overjoyed.

I closed my eyes and ached in terror as I forced myself to stand and turn around to confront him. His face angry, Father stood between the old stone columns that marked the opening of the orchard with Styxx by his side.

My blood froze in my veins.

I wanted to tell Acheron to run and hide, but it was too late. They were already too close.

Just three more days and he would have been safely away from here. I wanted to weep.

"Father," I said quietly. "Why are you here?"

"Where have you been?" he demanded as he moved forward. "I have searched and searched until it dawned on me to come here."

"I told you, I wanted time-"

"Father?" Acheron's excited voice filled my ears. This was the first time the boy had seen him since Father had sent him away.

Horrified, I watched him run to embrace his father. Unlike Acheron, I knew what reception he'd receive.

Not one ever to disappoint me, Father shoved him away ruthlessly and raked him with a repugnant grimace.

Acheron frowned in confusion as he looked to me for an explanation.

I couldn't speak. How could I tell him that I'd lied to him when all I had wanted was to make his life better?

"How dare you steal him from Atlantis!" Father snarled.

I opened my mouth to explain, but was distracted by the way the twins studied each other. I was entranced by their mutual curiosity. Even though each of them knew the other existed, they hadn't been together in over a decade. Neither of them really remembered what it was like to see and interact with the other one.

Joy was etched on Acheron's face. I could tell he wanted to embrace Styxx, but after Father's reception was hesitant.

Styxx looked less than enthusiastic. He stared at Acheron as if he were a bad dream made real.

"Guards!" Father shouted.

"What are you doing?" I asked, unable to comprehend why my father would summon guards for his own son.

"I'm sending him back where he belongs."

Acheron's jaw went slack as he turned toward me with terrified eyes.

My heart thumped wildly in fear of his being taken back to Atlantis. "You can't do that."

Father turned on me with a glare so hateful it actually made me take a step back in fear. "Have you lost your mind, woman? Why would you coddle such a monster?"

"Father, please," Acheron begged, falling down on his knees before him. He wrapped his arms around Father's ankle in the most obsequious pose I'd seen since we left Atlantis. "Please don't send me back. I'll do anything you ask. I swear it. I'll be good. I won't look at anyone. I won't hurt anyone." Acheron kissed his feet reverently.

"I am not your father, maggot," Father said cruelly as he kicked Acheron away. He glared at me with venom. "I told you, he doesn't belong with this family. Why would you defy me so?"

"He's your son," I said through my own tears of anger and frustration. "How can you deny him? It's your face he has. Styxx's face. How can you love one and not the other?"

Father reached down and gripped Acheron's jaw tightly in his hand. I could tell his fingers bit into Acheron's cheeks as he pulled him roughly to his feet so that Acheron could face me. "Those are not my eyes. Those are not the eyes of a human!"

"Styxx," I said, knowing if I could win him to my cause, he could sway Father's opinion of Acheron. "He's your brother. Look at him."

Styxx shook his head. "I have no brother."

Father shoved Acheron back.

Acheron stood there quietly, his eyes dazed by the reality of the moment. By his face I could tell he was reliving every nightmare he'd experienced in Atlantis. Every degradation.

I watched as he wilted right before my eyes.

Gone was the boy who'd finally, after months of tender coercion, learned to smile and to trust, and in his place was the defeated, hopeless shell I'd found.

His eyes were hollow now, empty. I'd lied to him and he knew it. He'd trusted in me and now that fragile bond was severed.

Acheron hung his head down and wrapped his arms around himself as if that could protect him from the brutality of a world that despised him.

When the guards entered the orchard and my father told them to take him back to Atlantis, Acheron followed them without a word or a fight. He was once again unassuming and opinionless. He no longer had a will of his own or even a voice. He was what he'd been.

With a few harsh words, Father had undone all my months of careful nurturing.

I glared at my father, hating him for what he was doing. "Estes abuses him, Father. Constantly. He sells Acheron to-"

My father slapped me for those words. "That is my brother you speak of. How dare you!"

My face stung, but I didn't care. I couldn't stand by quietly and let them shatter the soul of an innocent boy who should be coddled, not thrown away like he was nothing. "And that is my brother you cast off. How dare you!"

I didn't wait to see what else he would say. I ran after Acheron who'd already been ushered away by the guards.

He was waiting at the front entranceway of the palace for horses to be brought to them. His head was bent so low that he reminded me of a turtle who only wanted to crawl back into its shell so that no one could see him. His grip on his arms was so tight that his knuckles were white.

He stood like a statue.

"Acheron?"

He refused to look at me.

"Acheron, please. I didn't know they'd come today. I thought we were safe."

"You lied to me," he said simply as he stared blankly at the floor. "You told me my father loved me. That no one was ever going to make me leave here. You swore that to me."

Tears fell from my eyes. "I know, Acheron."

He looked at me then, his silvery eyes tormented. "You made me trust you."

Shamed to my soul, I tried to think of something to say to him. But nothing substantial would come. "I'm so sorry." It was a lame apology even to my own ears.

He shook his head. "I was never to set foot out of my chambers without escort. Never was I to leave the household. Idikos will punish me for leaving. He'll . . ." Horror filled his eyes as he tightened his grip on himself even more.

I couldn't even begin to imagine what was waiting for him in Atlantis.

The horses were brought forward.

When Acheron spoke, his words were a soft, heart-wrenching whisper. "I wish you'd left me as I was."