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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 i

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.