Not wanting to contemplate his fear that she'd found another man in his absence, Styxx jerked his chin toward the table where his maps were spread out. "I was reviewing our progress. We should hit the mainland shore of Atlantis in four days."
"I heard from the messenger earlier that the boats are being prepped. Our men are eager to dance in Apollymi's hall on capital hill."
Over the last months, they had conquered six of the outlying islands and held them until more Greek forces had been sent to occupy them while Styxx marched toward the Atlantean capital. He was the only one who'd had any kind of success against their stronger enemy. From what they heard through messengers, the rest of the Greek forces were being obliterated by their enemies at home.
But if Styxx and his army could make the Atlantean capital and breach the palace there, they would win this war in spite of the losses the other armies had taken. He couldn't wait for it.
"Have you ever been to the Atlantean capital, Highness?"
Styxx tried not to think about the last time he'd seen his brother and the hurtful things they had both said to each other. "I have."
"Is it as advanced as they say?"
Another thing he'd rather not have diverting his attention. "It is."
Galen met his gaze over the map. "Do you really think we can win this, Highness?"
"Yes, I do." And Styxx fully intended to ram his retribution down a number of aristocratic Atlantean throats.
Both for him and for Acheron.
August 10, 9530 BC
Bethany pulled back to watch the Stygian Omada break through another line of Atlantean defenses in spite of her people's superlative abilities. While her brethren were winning the fight on Greek soil and annihilating their royal houses, Styxx was kicking the crap out of them at home.
How was it even possible? It was as if he could read their minds. Every tactic they used, he headed off with a skill that went far beyond his age. Over and over, he used maneuvers the likes of which none of them had seen before. Somehow he'd shorn up every weakness of Greek warfare her people had always relied on to ensure victory.
The bastard was invincible.
And over the last few battles, as she'd watched him overcome incredible odds and emerge victorious when he should have been put in his grave, she'd had a realization about his true identity.
It was the only thing that made sense.
How ironic really. The very child Archon had torn their kingdom apart to find had come marching home with a Greek army in his wake....
Styxx of Didymos was Apollymi's hidden son. She'd stake her life on it.
Wheeling her horse about, Bethany flew away from the battle where Styxx was busy driving the Atlanteans back, and went into the realm that her great-grandfather had ruled until the other gods had joined forces to make it Apollymi's prison.
At least until Apostolos was dead.
Dark and dismal, Kalosis was not anyone's idea of a vacation destination. Unless they were truly into terrifying death motifs. Ironically, this was where Bethany had spent most of her childhood, and one of her favorite places.
Which said much about her personality.
Bethany ignored the Charonte demons who watched her suspiciously as she made her way to the dark palace in the center of the hell realm. Barely dressed, the Charonte were a dangerous demonic race whose skin was made up of swirling colors-usually only two, but occasionally more. They had wings that matched the color of their horns and their eyes were always creepy.
"Where is Apollymi?" she asked the blue male demon closest to her.
"In the back courtyard," he said in their unique singsongy accent.
She headed down the dark, reflecting hallway with curtains that billowed from a sourceless wind.
Bethany pushed open the large glass doors that let out onto a courtyard with high black marble walls.
Apollymi sat in front of the fountain that ran backwards up the wall. Dressed in a flowing black gown, the goddess of destruction was as breathtaking as she was lethal. Her long, white hair was braided down her back and her swirling silver eyes saw much more than others.
Archon was right to fear her. She was without mercy or compassion.
"Why are you here?" Apollymi snarled.
"I have learned the most coveted secret of all time and wanted your help in dealing with it."
Apollymi smirked. "What is this secret you've found?"
"Your son is leading an army into our capital."
Apollymi's smirk turned into an arched brow and an innocent expression. "My son?"
"Prince Styxx of Didymos. He's Apostolos, isn't he?"
Apollymi laughed out loud then turned back to her pond. "Nice try. Wrong, but I give you points for creativity."
Bethany didn't believe her for a second. "I know it's him."
"Then why haven't you betrayed me to the others?"
"Because lately I've come to understand ... your sacrifice."
This time, Apollymi's laughter was cruel. "Are you seriously telling me that the goddess of misery and wrath is in love? You really expect me to believe that of you?"
"Why not? If the goddess of utter destruction can love ... why not me?"
"Oh, Bet ... you are naive and foolish. And if you were truly in love, we would all know it." Apollymi ran her hand through the black water. "My son will return home soon, but he won't need a foreign army to destroy this pantheon. Now go and leave me before I remember how much I hate all of you."
"Fine, I'll go. But I wanted you to know that the gods have gathered together, and they will kill Styxx the moment he steps foot on the main shore. In unison."
"Doesn't concern me in the least."
Bethany wasn't so sure about that. While Apollymi seemed to be telling the truth, there had been a slight flare in her eyes when Bethany had first mentioned Styxx's name.
The prince did mean something to the goddess. But if he wasn't her son, what was he to her?
August 11, 9530 BC
The Atlantean gods sat together in their white marble hall as they discussed the advancing Greek army that none of their people had been able to quell or turn back.
"How?" Archon growled at the gods standing in front of his dais. "We are better armed. Higher tech. Our soldiers have psychic abilities, and yet this puny, putrid human and his army are able to outmaneuver us and kick our collective asses. For the love of us, can someone tell me how?"
They exchanged nervous and disgusted looks.
"A god protects him," Bethany said, pushing her way through the crowd until she stood in front of Archon. "I don't know who, but it's a powerful one. Whenever I try to shoot him, it's deflected as if he can see it ... which we all know is impossible."
"Apollymi?" Archon asked, going straight to her initial assumption.
Dikastis, their god of justice, shook his head. "Can't be. There's no way her son would be in Atlantis, leading an army, without our knowing it. He is using powers, but they're not ours. We would all feel it if it were."
"Maybe he's just that much better trained and more intelligent than our armies."
They all turned to glare at the sea god, Ydor. Tall and dark-haired, he stood apart from the rest of the group.
"What?" he asked innocently. "Tell me none of the rest of you have had that thought. Have you seen this kid? He's a beast on the battlefield. There's a burning fury inside him he unleashes the minute he takes a sword into his hand. I've never seen a mortal so fearless. It's as if he's daring us to kill him and wants to die.... He's definitely not a god with that mind set."
Archon returned his attention to Bethany. "You said he was Athena's champion?"
She nodded. "But it's not Athena protecting him in battle. It's an older god. Surely the rest of you have felt it, too."
Misos agreed with her. "She's right, brother. I tried to strike him down with my own hand, and he broke my axe."
His face turning red, Archon roared furiously. "Then how do we stop this little bugger prince?"
"Apollo." Moving forward to speak, Epithymia swept her gaze around the gathered gods. "As much as it galls me to say this, that Greek bastard is our only hope."