Acheron (Dark-Hunter #15)(6)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

And then I saw his face.

I gasped in alarm. Before I could think of what I was doing, I jerked the cowl down. His skin was still that dull, ashen gray, his hair lank and matted.

But it was his face that held me transfixed. Dark purple circles ran underneath both eyes as if he hadn’t slept at all. His lips were chapped, raw and bleeding. Both of his cheeks were bruised as if someone had slapped him repeatedly. One eye was red from broken blood vessels.

His clothes were torn and dirty.

"What happened to you?"

He gave me a true, insolent glare that cut through me. "I’m a trained tsoulus, Idika, that you left unprotected for four days. What do you think they did to me?"

Horrified, I called for Boraxis as Acheron replaced his cowl.

The herio stopped immediately. Boraxis came down and opened the door. "Yes, Highness?"

"Take me back to the ship."

"May I ask why, Highness?"

"They . . . they . . ." I couldn’t even bring myself to say it. "I want everyone who touched Acheron to be put into chains!"

Boraxis frowned.

I pulled the cowl down again and showed Boraxis Acheron’s battered face. "Look what they did to him."

Acheron met Boraxis’s gaze and something strange passed between them.

"Highness," Boraxis said in a low, calm tone, "I’ll take you back if you wish it, but only Acheron’s rightful owner can demand restitution for his damage."

I ground my teeth at him. "He is not a slave."

"He’s marked as a slave, Highness. That’s all that matters."

"So that gives them the right to abuse him?"

"And again, Highness, I repeat, only his rightful owner can demand restitution. All the law will give you for what they did is financial compensation for his use. No free man will be punished for using a slave."

"A slave can be beaten for hurting him like this! And I want it so."

"Highness, a slave wouldn’t have dared touch him like that."

I gulped. "What are you saying?"

Boraxis looked past me to Acheron. "Acheron? Who hurt you?"

"The sailors, and when they were done with me, they sold me to noblemen they brought below the decks."

Boraxis returned his gaze to mine. "You are a noblewoman and I your servant. No one will care what we think any more than they will care what was done to a slave."

Then an awful fear went through me. "Did you know they’d do this to him?"

"No, Highness. I assumed he’d be left alone with the other slaves. Had I any inkling they would have harmed him, I would have warned you."

I believed him.

Even so, I’d never been so angry in all my life. If we were in my father’s kingdom . . .

But we weren’t. Boraxis was right. Here, outside my father’s realm, I had no voice.

Sick over the matter, I nodded. "Find us someplace where we can have his bands removed, Boraxis."

"You can’t remove them," Acheron said in a panicked voice. "It is a death sentence to any tsoulus for anyone other than their idikos to remove their bands."

"You’re not a slave and I will not have you marked as one!"

He shrank away from me.

Sighing, I looked back at Boraxis. "Acheron needs more food and someplace safe to rest and bathe. He could also use fresh clothes."

"I’ll ask the driver for such a place, Highness."

I nodded at him. He left us and climbed back up. It was a few seconds later that we started forward again.

"No one is going to hurt you anymore, Acheron."

Tears gathered in his eyes before he pulled the cowl back up to shield his face from me.

"Speak to me, little brother. Tell me what thoughts you have."

"My will is your will, Idika."

"Stop calling me that! I am Ryssa. I’m not your owner."

And again he had no response to that.

Aggravated, I left him to himself while we traveled for the next hour until Boraxis found us a large hostel where I could rent Acheron a room so that he could bathe and rest.

A short time later, Boraxis brought a smith to the room.

I knocked on Acheron’s door, then pushed it open to find him lying nak*d on his bed. I motioned Boraxis and the smith to stay in the hall while I entered.

"Acheron," I said softly, reaching to shake him awake.

I paused as I saw the myriad of scrapes and bruises that marred his perfect skin. There were places where entire handprints were still visible from his abuse. Gods, the horror he must have faced alone in the belly of the ship.

My stomach churned at the sight of my failure to protect him. How could I be so worthless? I pulled a blanket over him before I shook him very gently and promised myself that he wouldn’t be hurt like this again.

He came awake as if terrified.

"All’s well," I assured him.

He looked about as if not quite sure he should believe me.

"Boraxis?" I called.

He entered with the smith behind him. As soon as Acheron saw the tools in the smith’s hands, he panicked and tried to run.

"Stop him."

Boraxis did. He grabbed him and held Acheron down on the floor while the smith brought a large pair of clips forward to snip through the bands.

Acheron screamed and fought as if we were cutting off his limbs.

"Please, stop!" he begged hoarsely. "Please!"

His pleas tore through me, but this was what must be done. I didn’t want anyone else to mistake him for a slave. "It’s all right, Acheron. You’re free."

Still he fought until the last band had been removed. Then he lay without moving, his eyes dazed.

"Keep the gold," I told the smith, who then thanked me and left.

I looked at Boraxis, stunned by Acheron’s actions. "Why would he not want them removed?"

"You took his registration shield. If a slaver finds him now, he doesn’t have to be returned to his owner. Anyone can claim him."

I growled at words I didn’t want to hear. "He’s not a slave."

"He’s branded as such on his hand, Princess. If anyone sees that mark, they’ll know he’s not freeborn."

I frowned. "What brand?"

Boraxis held Acheron’s right hand up to show me a jagged brand in his palm that looked like an X through a pyramid. How odd that I hadn’t noticed it before. But it made no difference to me.

"No one will know."

"The smith knows, Highness. For that reason, I would suggest we leave here as quickly as possible and reach your father’s kingdom before we’re stopped again."

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."