Part I Chapter 6
He was right, and deep in my heart I knew it. All I'd done in my stupidity was to hurt him more. I had shown him a better life, one where he was respected and given choices.
Now he would have no say in anything about his life. He would be less than nothing in Atlantis.
I sobbed as a guard grabbed him roughly by his arm and forced him into a chariot. Acheron never looked back at me. I realized he must truly hate me for what I'd done to him and I couldn't blame him for it.
Heartsick, I stood there and watched as they rode away.
"Acheron!" Maia screamed as she came tearing out of the doorway.
Only then did he look back. His face was stoic, but I saw the tears in his eyes as he waved good-bye to her.
Falling to my knees, I pulled Maia into my arms as she sobbed with the heartfelt sadness that haunted me as well.
Acheron was gone and there was no hope of my ever freeing him again. Father would make sure of that.
Then I remembered the words the old priestess had uttered the day of his birth.
May the gods have mercy on you, little one. No one else ever will.
I knew just how right she'd been. Acheron was right, the gods had cursed him.
Otherwise we would have had our three days . . .
June 23, 9530 BC
It had been one year since I last saw Acheron. Maia and I sat in the orchard of the summer palace for hours this afternoon thinking about him. Wondering what he was doing. How he fared. I told Maia that I was sure he was fine, but in my heart I knew the truth. He was anything other than fine. There was no telling what was being done to him while the two of us sat nibbling on olives and cheese while playing in the warm sun.
I'd sent numerous letters to Acheron in Atlantis to no avail. No one would tell me anything of him. The maid who'd originally contacted me had died under suspicious circumstances-that much I'd overheard in a conversation between my father and my uncle not long after Acheron had returned to Atlantis.
Estes hasn't spoke to me since.
I'd attempted to ask my uncle on his last visit about Acheron. He brushed me aside with a bitter dismissal. He knows I know what he's doing and he will no longer acknowledge me in the least.
I'm dead to my uncle. Not that it really matters to me at this point. He died to me the moment I saw my brother tied to a bed because of Estes's greed.
But it made me wonder how Acheron felt about me. If he even thought about me anymore. Did he hate me over what had happened? Or was he so drugged now that he no longer even recalled my name?
There was no telling.
I had no hope of saving him again. Because of what I'd done, Father now keeps me under extreme guard at all times. I no longer have the freedom to travel without his express permission. Boraxis was reassigned to cleaning out the stables and replaced with another guard who refuses to even speak to me.
Even Styxx barely acknowledges my presence.
"How can you let your own twin suffer so?" I'd asked him barely a week after Acheron had been taken.
"Estes would never do such a thing. It's another of your lies designed to make us free Acheron. You should be grateful I'm not king yet. I'd have you whipped for such treachery."
I'd wanted to choke him for his obstinacy.
Even more upsetting were the rumors I'd heard of political trouble between Greece and Atlantis. Our truce seemed to be threatened. What would happen to Acheron should war resume? Even though Father and Styxx denied it, Acheron was still a Greek prince. He could easily be taken prisoner and executed . . .
I wondered if Father had considered the fact that if Acheron were killed, he'd lose his precious Styxx in the process. Most likely, he'd forgotten that bit of prophecy.
But I remembered and I ached for a brother I doubted I'd ever see again.
Acheron was lost to me now.
If only I could see him one last time . . .
September 21, 9529 BC
Estes died two days ago while he was staying with us on Didymos. Styxx and my father were naturally heartbroken. But I wasn't so stricken. While a part of me was saddened by his untimely death, another part rejoiced. Though Estes had been rather young to have had the seizure that claimed his life, I couldn't help but wonder if it hadn't been sent by the gods to punish him for what he'd done to Acheron. Perhaps it was uncharitable of me to think that. Still, I couldn't help but wonder.
We were headed now for Atlantis to collect Acheron and bring him home at long last.
Home where he belongs.
Because of the impending war with Atlantis, Father intended to close Estes's house and sell it. I couldn't be more thrilled by the prospect. And I was sure that Acheron would be even more so. No doubt he wanted to see it kept even less than I did.
Before we'd left home, a suite had been prepared for Acheron at the palace. I couldn't wait to see him again. What I could almost find humorous was that, after avoiding me for so long, Father and Styxx allowed me to accompany them. Of course that was only so that I could keep Acheron away from them. But I didn't care so long as I saw him again.
Just a few days more and we'd reach Atlantis. This time, when I collected Acheron, he would stay where he was safe.
September 26, 9529 BC
I was excited beyond excited when I saw Estes's house again. Not much had changed since my last visit. Even the same servant opened the door. He seemed surprised to see the three of us, especially my father.
"I've come to collect Acheron," my father announced. "Show me to him."