Screams surrounded him, piercing the blackness. He tried his best to see something. Anything. But all he saw were the strange pinpoint ghost-lights made by eyes that were desperate to be of use.
This place was cold. Icy. He felt his way along a craggy rock wall only to learn he was encased in a small, six-feet-by-six-feet cell. There wasn't even enough room for him to lie down completely.
All of a sudden, a light appeared beside him. It faded to form a young, beautiful woman with dark red hair, fair skin, and the green, swirling eyes of a goddess. He knew her instantly.
She was Mnemosyne, or Mnimi for short, the goddess of memory. He'd seen her likeness countless times in temples and on scrolls. She held an old-fashioned oil lamp in her hand as she studied him closely.
"Where am I?" he asked her.
Her voice was faint and gentle, like a breeze whispering through crystal eaves. "You are in Tartarus."
Of course he was.
What the hell? He'd lived here his entire life.
Styxx swallowed his outrage and hurt. When he'd died aeons ago in ancient Greece, he should have been placed in the paradise realm of the Elysian Fields with Galen and his men ... and not alone on a deserted island that vanished if anyone happened to look in its direction.
Tartarus was where Hades banished the evil souls he wished to torture. But hey, in theory it was a step up from where he'd been these last eleven thousand years. At least in hell he had company in his misery.
"I don't belong here."
"Where do you belong?" she asked.
He touched the names on his arm and thought about his wife and son. "I belong with my family."
Her eyes were tinged by sadness as she regarded him. "They have all been reborn. The only family you have left now is the brother you hate."
Reborn? Pain tore him apart. He'd never see his precious Bethany again. Never hear her or hold her ...
Why can't I just die already?
But no. The one person he was left with was one who'd done nothing but hurt and humiliate him all his life. A man who would never even acknowledge him. The injustice of it made him want to slice open his own throat.
"He is not my brother. He was never my brother."
She cocked her head as if listening to something far away from them. "Strange. Acheron never felt that way about you. No matter the times you were cruel to him, he never hated you."
Bullshit! How could a goddess be so blind?
Or worse ... if she was right and Acheron had done all he had without hating him then Acheron was exactly the monster their father had said he was.
But at the end of the day, it didn't matter. "I don't care what he feels."
"True," she said as if she knew his innermost thoughts, as if she knew him better than he knew himself.
"Honestly, I don't understand you, Styxx. For centuries, you were given the Vanishing Isle as your home. You had friends and every luxury known. It was as peaceful and beautiful there as the Elysian Fields, and yet all you did was plot more vengeance against Acheron. I gave you memories of your beautiful home and family, of your peaceful and happy childhood to comfort you, and instead of gaining pleasure from them, you used them to fuel your hatred."
He gaped. Friends? What friends? The stupid dolphins he talked to out of desperation? His brother's wooden horse? And it wasn't like she'd put him on the Vanishing Isle with the Dream-Hunters. No ... his had been completely deserted.
Oh gee, bitch, thanks.
As for his memories, they had been the worst sort of hell, because they'd reminded him of the brother he'd lost. Of Bethany and Galen, and the life they'd planned and never had.
Those had been a dagger in his heart.
But most of all, those memories had shown him the father who despised him, the mother who tried to kill him, his sister whose heart had only been big enough to love Acheron, and all the people who had mocked and debased him because of his brother.
No, not his brother.
Apollymi's bastard seed!
"Do you blame me? Acheron stole everything from me. Everything I ever hoped for or loved. Because of him, my family is dead, my kingdom gone. Even my life ended because of him."
But for Acheron keeping him that day, he would have been in Egypt to protect Bethany when Apollymi came for her.
"No," she said softly. "You can lie to yourself, Styxx, but not to me. It was you who betrayed your brother. You and your father. You let your fear of him blind you. It was your own actions that condemned not only him, but yourself as well."
What fear? Never, ever once in his life had he feared Acheron!
Memories of Atlantis tore through him. He saw Acheron smirking as he secured Styxx's limbs to the bed so that Estes could violate him instead of Acheron.
"How can you do this to me? I came here to save you!"
"You are saving me, Styxx. Tonight I'm not the one getting fucked in my ass. You are. Just remember not to clench. It hurts a lot less when you stop fighting them."
He could still see the mocking gleam in his brother's eye as Acheron oiled and "prepared" Styxx's naked body for Estes and the others.
Yes, his brother had been beaten down and drugged to the point he'd possessed no mind of his own. Even so, Styxx couldn't understand how Acheron could have done such a thing to him.
The betrayal burned deep in his heart.
"What do you know of it? Acheron is evil. Unclean. He defiles everything he touches."
She danced her fingers through the lamp's flame, making it flicker eerily in the darkness of the small cell. All the while her eyes burned him with their intensity. "That is the beauty of memory, isn't it? Our reality is always clouded by our perceptions of truth. You remember events one way and so you judge your brother without knowledge of how things were to him."
Mnimi placed a hand on his shoulder. The heat of it seared his skin and when she spoke, her low tone sounded evil, insidious. "I am about to give you the most precious of gifts, Styxx. At long last, you will have understanding."
Styxx tried to run, but couldn't.
Mnimi's fiery touch held him immobile.
His head spun as he rushed back in time to the last place he wanted to go. He saw his beautiful mother lying on her gilded bed, her body covered in sweat, her face ashen as an attendant brushed her damp, blond hair from her pale blue eyes. He'd never known his mother to appear more joy-filled than she did that day.
Dear gods, she was even sober.
The room was crowded with court officials and his father, who stood to the side of the bed with his head of state. The long windows were open, letting the fresh sea air offer relief from the heat of the summer day.
"It is another beautiful boy," the midwife happily proclaimed, wrapping the newborn infant in a blanket.
"By sweet Artemis's hand, Aara, you've done me proud!" his father said as a loud jubilant shout ran through the room's occupants. "Twin boys to rule over our twin isles!"
Laughing, his mother watched as the midwife cleaned the firstborn.
It was then Styxx learned the true horror of Acheron's birth, learned the dark secret his father had hidden from him the whole of his life.
Acheron was the firstborn son.
Styxx, who was now in Acheron's infant body, struggled to breathe through his newborn lungs. He had finally taken a deep, clear breath when he heard a cry of alarm.
"Zeus have mercy, the eldest is malformed, Majesties."
His mother looked up, her brow creased by worry. "How so?"
The midwife carried him over to his mother, who held the second-born babe to her breast.
Scared, the baby wanted comfort away from the fear he sensed and the unfamiliar loud noises. He reached for the brother who had shared the womb with him. If he could just touch his brother, all would be right. He knew it.
Instead, his mother pulled his brother away, out of his sight and reach. "It cannot be," his mother sobbed. "He is blind."
"Not blind, Majesty," the eldest wise woman said as she stepped forward, through the crowd. Her white robes were heavily embroidered with gold threads, and she wore an ornate gold wreath over her faded gray hair. "He was sent to you by the gods."
Xerxes narrowed his eyes angrily at the queen. "You were unfaithful?"
"Nay, never."
"Then how is it he came from your loins? All of us here witnessed it."
The room as a whole looked to the wise woman who stared blankly at the tiny, helpless baby that cried out for someone to hold him and offer him solace. Warmth.
"He will be a destroyer, this child," she said, her ancient voice loud and ringing so that all could hear her proclamation. "His touch will bring death to many. Not even the gods themselves will be safe from his wrath."
"Then kill him now." Xerxes ordered his guard to draw his sword and slay the baby.
"Nay!" The wise woman halted the guard before he could carry out the king's will. "Kill this infant and your son dies as well, Majesty. Their life forces are combined. 'Tis the will of the gods that you should raise him to manhood."
The baby sobbed, not understanding the fear he sensed from those around him. All he wanted was to be held as his brother was. For someone to cuddle him and tell him that all would be fine.
Xerxes was emphatic. "I will not raise a monster."
"You have no choice." The wise woman took the baby from the midwife who'd delivered him and offered it to the queen. "He was born of your body, Majesty. He is your son."
The baby squalled even louder, reaching again for his mother. She cringed away from him, clutching her second-born even tighter than before. "I will not suckle it. I will not touch it. Get it away from my sight."
The wise woman walked the child to his father. "And what of you, Majesty? Will you not acknowledge him?"
"Never. That child is no son of mine."
The wise woman took a deep breath and presented the infant to the room. Her grip was loose, with no love or compassion evident in her touch.
"Then he will be called Acheron for the river of woe. Like the river of the Underworld, his journey shall be dark, long, and enduring. He will be able to give life and to take it. He will walk through his life alone and abandoned-ever seeking kindness and ever finding cruelty."
The wise woman looked down at the infant in her hands and uttered the simple truth that would haunt both twins for the rest of their existence. "May the gods have mercy on you, little one. No one else ever will."
December 1, 2007
Acheron stopped at a doorway that was covered with an iridescent slime. It shimmered like a rainbow oil slick in the dim light. To his surprise, there was no sound coming from inside. No movement. It was as if the occupant was dead.
But unlike the others who lived in Tartarus, this particular person couldn't die.
At least not until Ash did, and since he was a god ...
He used his powers to open the door without touching it.
It was completely black inside the small, dingy room. Horrifying images of his human past slammed into him at the sight. Long-buried emotions ripped at him with daggers of pain that lacerated his heart.
Acheron wanted to run from this place.
He knew he couldn't.
Grinding his teeth, Ash forced himself to take the six steps that separated him from the man who was curled into a ball in one corner. An identical replica of himself, the man had long blond hair that was gnarled from the time he'd spent here and hadn't brushed it or bathed.
But then Ash never willingly wore his hair blond. It was a wretched reminder of a time in his past that he was desperate to forget.
Dressed in rags and his face covered with a long, matted beard, the man on the floor wasn't moving. He clenched his eyes shut like a child who thought that if he made no sound, no moves, the nightmare would end.
Ash had lived a long time in just such a state, and like the man before him, he had prayed for death repeatedly. But unlike his prayers that had gone unanswered, he was here to release Styxx from his prison.
"Styxx," he said, his low tone echoing off the walls.
His brother didn't react.
Ash knelt down and did something that had disgusted Styxx when they had been human brothers in Greece. He touched his brother's shoulder.
"Styxx?" he tried again.
Styxx screamed as Ash broke through the brutal memories of horror that Mnimi had given to Styxx as punishment for trying to kill him. It was a punishment Ash had never agreed with. No one needed the memories of his human past. Not even him.
He could hear Styxx's thoughts as they left Ash's past and returned slowly to Styxx's control.
Knowing his brother would be disgusted by him, Ash let go and stepped back.
As humans, he and Styxx had never been close. Styxx had hated him with an unreasoning logic. For his own part, he had purposefully aggravated that hatred.
Ash's human rationale had been that if his family was going to hate him anyway, then he would give them all good cause for it. He'd gone out of his way to repulse them. Out of his way to antagonize his brother and father.
Only their sister had ever given him kindness.
And in the end, Ash had betrayed her and not been there to protect her when she'd died....
Styxx struggled to breathe as he became aware of the fact that he wasn't Acheron.
I am Styxx of Didymos. Heir to ...
No, he wasn't the rightful heir to anything. Acheron had been. He and his father had stolen that from Acheron.
They had taken everything from him.
Everything.
For the first time in eleven thousand years Styxx understood that reality. In spite of what his father had convinced him, they had greatly wronged Acheron.
Mnimi had been right. The world as Prince Styxx had seen it had been whitewashed by lies and by hatred.
The world of Acheron had been entirely different. It had been steeped in loneliness and pain, and decorated with terror. It was a world he'd never dreamed existed. Sheltered and protected all his life, Styxx had never known a single insult. Never known hunger or suffering.
But Acheron had ...
His body shook uncontrollably as Styxx looked around the dark, cold room. He had seen such a place in Acheron's memories.
A place they had gleefully left Acheron in to face alone. Only this place was cleaner. Less frightening.
And he was a lot older than Acheron had been.
Styxx covered his eyes and wept as the agony of that tore through him anew. He knew Acheron's thoughts. Felt Acheron's emotions. His hopelessness. His despair. He heard Acheron's screams for death. His silent pleas for mercy-silent because to voice them only made his situation worse.
They echoed and taunted him from the past.
How many times had he hurt his own brother? Guilt gnawed at him, making him sick from it.
"I'll take them away from you."
Styxx flinched at the voice that sounded identical to his own, except for the soft lilting quality that marked Acheron's from the years he had spent in Atlantis.
Years Styxx wished to the gods that he could go back and change. Poor Acheron. No one deserved what had been handed to him.
"No," Styxx said quietly, his voice shaking as he gathered himself together. "I don't want you to."
He glanced up to see the surprise on Acheron's face.
It was something Acheron hid quickly behind a mask of stoicism. "There's no reason for you to know all that about me. My memories have never served good to anyone."
That wasn't true and Styxx knew it. "If you take them from me, I will hate you again."
"I don't mind."
No doubt. Acheron was used to being hated.
Styxx met that eerie swirling gaze of his levelly. "I do."
Ash couldn't breathe from the raw emotions he felt as he watched Styxx push himself to his feet.
They were so much alike physically and yet polar extremes when it came to their past and their present.
All they really had in common was that they were both longed-for heirs. Styxx was to inherit his father's kingdom while Acheron had been conceived to destroy the world for his mother.
It was a destiny neither of them had fulfilled.
Instead, Ash had been born human against his will and against the delight of his human surrogate family that had somehow sensed he wasn't really one of them.
And they had hated him for it.
"How long have I been here?" Styxx asked, looking around his dark prison.
"Three years."
Styxx laughed bitterly. "It seemed like forever."
It probably had. Ash didn't envy Styxx having to suffer the memories of Ash's human past. Then again, he envied himself even less for having lived them.
He cleared his throat. "I can return you to the Vanishing Isle again, or you can stay here in Tartarus. I can't take you into the Elysian Fields, but there are other areas here that are almost as peaceful."
"What did you have to bargain with Artemis and Hades for that?"
Ash looked away, not wanting to think about it. "It doesn't matter."
Styxx took a step toward him then stopped. "It does matter. I know what it costs you now ... what it cost you then."
"Then you know it doesn't matter to me."
Styxx scoffed. "I know you're lying, Acheron. I'm the only one who does."
Ash flinched at the truth. But it changed nothing. "Make your decision, Styxx. I don't have any more time to waste here."
Styxx took another step forward. He stood so close now that Ash could see his reflection in Styxx's blue eyes. Those eyes pierced him with sincerity. "I want to go to Katateros."
Ash frowned at him. "Why?"
"I want to know my brother."
Ash scoffed at that. "You don't have a brother," he reminded him. It was something Styxx had proclaimed loud and clear throughout the centuries. "We only shared a womb for a very short time."
Styxx did something he had never done before. He reached out and touched Ash's shoulder. That touch seared him as it reminded him of the boy he'd been who had wanted nothing more than the love of his human family.
A boy they had brutally spat on and denied.
"You told me once, long ago," Styxx said in a ragged tone, "to look into a mirror and see your face. I refused to then. But now Mnimi has forced me to look at my own reflection. I've seen it through my eyes and I've seen it through yours. I wish to the gods that I could change what happened between us. If I could go back, I would never deny you. But I can't. We both know that. Now I just want the chance to know you as I should have known you all those centuries ago."
Angered at his noble speech and at a past that no mere handful of words could ease, Ash used his powers to pin Styxx back to the wall, away from him. Styxx hovered spread-eagle, above the floor, his face pale as Ash showed him his true god powers. He could tell by Styxx's thoughts that he was aware of exactly what he could do to him. Even though they were linked together, Ash could kill him with a single thought. He could shred him into pieces.
Part of him wanted to. It was the part of him they had turned vicious. The part of him that belonged to his real mother, the Destroyer.
"I am not a god of forgiveness."
Styxx met his gaze without flinching. "And I'm not a man used to apologizing. We are linked. You know it and I know it."
"How could I ever trust you?"
Styxx wanted to weep at that question. Acheron was right. He'd done nothing but hurt his brother.
He'd even tried to kill him.
"You can't. But I have lived inside your memories for the last three years. I know the pain you hide. I know the pain I caused. If I stay here, I will go mad from the screams. If I return to the Vanishing Isle, I'll languish there alone and in time I will probably learn to hate you all over again."
Styxx paused as grief swept through him at the truth he could no longer deny. "I don't want to hate you anymore, Acheron. You are a god who can control human fate. Is it not possible that there was a reason why we were joined together? Surely the Fates meant for us to be brothers."
Ash looked away as those words echoed in his head. It was a divine cruelty that he could see the fate of everyone around him except for those who were important to him, or those whose fates were intertwined with his own. He held the fate of the entire world in his hand and yet he couldn't see his own future.
How screwed-up was that?
How unfair?
He looked at his "brother." Styxx was more likely to skewer him than he was to speak to him.
And yet he sensed something different about him.
Forget it. Erase his memory of you and leave him here to rot.
It was kinder than anything Styxx had ever done for him. But deep inside, down in a place that Ash hated was that little boy who had reached out for his brother. That little boy who had cried out repeatedly for his family only to find himself alone in Atlantis.
What should he do?
He set Styxx back on the ground.
Ash didn't move as memories and the emotions they reawakened assailed him. He could sense Styxx was approaching. He tensed out of habit. Every time Styxx had ever drawn near, he had hurt him.
"I can't undo the past," Styxx whispered. "But in the future, I will gladly lay my life down for you, brother."
Before he realized what Styxx was doing, Styxx pulled him close.
Ash didn't move as he felt Styxx's arms around him. He'd dreamed of this moment as a child in Atlantis. He'd ached for it.
The angry god inside him wanted to splinter Styxx into pieces for daring to touch him now, but that innocent part of him ... that human heart, shattered. It was the part that he listened to.
Ash wrapped his arms around his brother and held him for the first time in his memory.
"I'm so sorry," Styxx said in a ragged tone.
Ash nodded as he pulled away. "To err is human, to forgive divine."
Styxx shook his head at the quote. "I don't ask for your forgiveness. I don't deserve it. I only ask for a chance to show you now that I'm not the fool I was once."
Ash only hoped he could believe it. The odds were against them both. Every time Styxx had been given an opportunity to assuage their past, he had used it to hurt him more.
Closing his eyes, Ash teleported them out of Tartarus and into Katateros.
Stunned, Styxx pulled back to gape at the grand black marble foyer, he'd never ...
Styxx blinked slowly.
For a full minute, he was confused as his own memories finally surged past Acheron's. At first, he'd thought this room new. But he'd been here before. Centuries ago, the Atlantean gods had held him here.
Don't think about it.
Ironically, had he told them then where his brother was, the old gods would have ended an aeon of suffering for him.
As he glanced around the huge marble fountain and columns, he realized nothing had changed. It was all as perfectly preserved as it'd been when they tortured him here. A part of him swore he could even hear their laughter and jeers.
"So this is where you live," Styxx breathed, trying to keep his tone level as pain lacerated his heart.
"No." Acheron folded his arms over his chest, and indicated the tall, gilded windows that looked out over the tranquil water that stretched toward the horizon. "I live across the River Athlia, on the other side of the Lypi Shores. There is no Charon to ferry you across the river to my home so don't bother looking."
He was completely baffled by that. "I don't understand."
Acheron took a step back from him and Styxx was puzzled by the suspicion he saw in his brother's silver eyes. "I will see to it that you have servants and all you could ever desire here."
"But I thought we were going to be together."
Acheron shook his head. "You made your choice and you wanted to come here. So here you are."
But this wasn't what he wanted.
Styxx tried to approach him only to find his pathway cut off by an invisible wall. "I thought you said to err is human, to forgive divine."
Those swirling, silver eyes burned him. "I'm a god, Styxx, not a saint. I do forgive you, but trusting you is another matter. As you said, you shall have to prove yourself to me. Until then, you and I will take this one step at a time and then we shall see what is to become of us."
As soon as those words were spoken, Styxx found himself alone. And the instant Acheron vanished, every single memory of Styxx's came back to him.
Full force and with complete clarity.
Contrary to his brother's thoughts, Styxx had not lived a perfect, happy life. He had not lived in luxury.
He had known pain ...
Isolation.
Starvation and suffering.
Throwing his head back, he roared in fury. "Damn you, Acheron!"
He was the one who'd had pity on his brother, and now he knew exactly what Acheron had always thought of him. The horrid truth. And how wrong Acheron's thoughts were where Styxx was concerned. For three fucking years that bitch had made him live his brother's life and hold Acheron's memories of their world and past as if they were his own.
"Oh, this is rich.... You stupid punk!"
Styxx was not the one who needed a dose of reality. Rather it was the petulant bitch-brother of his who refused to remember their childhood. At all. But then that was Estes's fault. He'd filled Acheron's mind with hatred and twisted it to the point his brother had forced himself to remember nothing other than Estes's lies.
Just as Acheron had once hated Ryssa for abandoning him. Yet somehow, Acheron had managed to forgive her and see the real truth of her actions.
But Acheron would never forgive him. He had no intention of looking any deeper than his own twisted and erroneous facts.
While Styxx had held on to those early memories of their friendship that had allowed him to feel for his brother, Acheron had locked out every one of them. He remembered nothing of the kindness Styxx had given him. Ever. None of his attempts to free him.
And now ...
Acheron had abandoned him again. Because his brother refused to look at Styxx's life as it had really been.
Instead, Acheron judged him as everyone else had. On an assumed reality that had never existed anywhere other than inside their own jealous minds.
You are a prince and your father's beloved heir. You're rich. What problems could you possibly have?
How dare you complain, Styxx. You don't know what real suffering is. You can't imagine what the world is really like....
His brother knew nothing of the years they'd lived apart. Nothing of Styxx's war career. Or Galen.
Nothing of Bethany.
Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, Styxx laughed as insanity claimed him.
His brother was across the river with his demon daughter and friends, and here Styxx was locked away again. With no one and nothing but memories that tore out his heart.
Take your sanctimonious indignation, Acheron, and shove it up your ass.
But all of his anger changed nothing.
Yet again, Acheron had made Styxx's situation worse. Strange how Acheron thought he could see Styxx's sins so clearly and yet he was blind to his own. In the end, Acheron was a god. He acted like all the others. He chose his pets, and the rest of humanity could burn for all he cared.
And worse, like Apollo, Apollymi, and Artemis, Acheron was capable of incredible acts of cruelty against anyone when he felt justified, right or wrong, for hating them.
That was bad enough when it was done by a human. Acheron had the powers to look into the hearts and pasts, and to see the truth. He had done it for others ... for all of his Dark-Hunter brethren.
Yet not his own brother.
Unlike a human who couldn't, Acheron chose not to see Styxx. That was what made it worse. That total lack of regard.
But then, Acheron was surrounded by people who kissed his ass and adored him. He had his daughter who loved him ...
And I am the king of hell.
With no one and nothing.
���Ӧ�ς �̦�ί �� ' �ͦϦ̦� ...
I am Nobody.
Sighing, Styxx sat on the floor and closed his eyes and thought of the only person who had ever given him comfort and love. One of only two people in his entire life who had seen him as he really was.
His Bethany.
And she had been murdered by Acheron's mother on the day the two of them were supposed to leave all this bullshit behind. If one brother had reason to hate the other, he believed he had a few legs up on Acheron.
Not that it mattered. Acheron was with his family again. Cradled next to their loving bosoms.
Meanwhile, Styxx was in his hole where Acheron would soon forget his existence-if he hadn't already. A hole that was a lot crueler than the Vanishing Isle, because here, Styxx saw nothing but Acheron's real family using and abusing him, and laughing as they did so. It would be the same as locking Acheron back in Estes's home for eternity.
Thanks, brother. I hate you, too.
May 4, 2008
Styxx sighed as he secured the last plank on the small raft he'd made. Over the last few months, he'd learned that when Acheron had said Styxx had to earn his trust, what he really meant was "get out of my face and don't let me see you again."
Acheron must have reconsidered the servants and supplies because nothing had arrived since he'd been confined here.
Not a damn thing.
The only difference between this island and the Vanishing Isle was that this one didn't have predators to eat him. And while that made his world a bit safer, it also left him without much meat, and no way to make blankets or have sinew to use for bowstring and ties. Of course the twisted palm leaves could be used on his hammers and spears, but that wasn't nearly as strong or durable as leather cords.
Styxx grimaced at the blood on his hand. The really bad thing about palm leaves and trees was that they had sharp blades and spines, and he had no way to make leather gloves to protect his skin. His hands were so swollen from previous cuts that had gone to infection that he'd lost even more dexterity, especially in his right hand.
Not to mention both hands throbbed constantly.
The other thing this island lacked ... castor beans. He had no way of making castor oil to draw out the infection. Then again, there were no beans or nuts here of any kind. His diet had been extremely limited to shellfish and coconuts. He hadn't even seen a bird, which meant no eggs.
The only good thing he could say about being here was that Apollo couldn't get to him.
Woo-fucking-hoo. At this point, he'd gladly whore himself for just a single bite of steak ...
A drink of untainted water.
Cursing, Styxx jerked his hand back as another spine bit into the pad of his finger and left it bleeding. He put it in his mouth and sucked on it while he inspected his raft. On the Vanishing Isle, his rafts would only circle the lagoon. Any time he tried to go out farther or launch from another spot ... or even swim out ... winds would blow him straight back to shore.
That would probably happen here, too. But he had to find out. Besides, it wasn't like he had anything else to do ... other than draw in the sand and watch the waves erase it.
Styxx grabbed the raft and hauled it toward the water. Grunting from the effort, he pulled against the hull. It took a few minutes to launch. Then he scrambled onto the back and grabbed his pole so that he could push it across the river. A lack of sail had never stopped him from being shoved back in Hades, but maybe here it would keep him from being turned over.
He left the lagoon and kept his gaze on the opposite shore, where Acheron made his home. At this point, he didn't care what his brother did. He just wanted to hear the sound of another human voice, even if that voice was cursing him.
