Acheron

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 a

Without a word, the gloomy old man led us down the same hallway I'd traveled once before. Down to the room that had haunted my nightmares and thoughts.

My happiness died as we reached it and reality came crashing down on me.

Nothing had changed.

Nothing.

I knew it before the servant opened the door.

When it swung open my worst fears were confirmed with crystal clarity.

"What is this?" my father roared.

I covered my mouth with my hand as I saw Acheron on his bed with a man and a woman-all of them were completely naked and writhing entwined on the linen sheets. I was horrified by the sight of what they were doing to Acheron. Of what he was doing to them.

In all my life, I'd never seen such depravity.

The man pulled back from Acheron with a feral curse. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded in an equally imperious tone. I could tell by his bearing that he was an Atlantean of wealth and power. "How dare you interrupt us!"

Acheron gave one last playful thrust and lick to the woman's body before he rolled over onto his back. He lay unabashedly naked on the bed, smirking.

"Prince Ydorus," Acheron said to the angry man addressing my father. "Meet King Xerxes of Didymos."

That took some of the bluster out of the prince, but not much.

"Leave us," my father demanded.

Offended, the prince gathered his clothes and his companion and did as my father ordered.

Acheron wiped his mouth on the sheet. His skin once more had that sickly, gray cast to it. He was even thi

Worst of all, I saw the balls on his tongue flash in the light as he spoke. No longer did he clench his teeth as if embarrassed by what he was. Now it was as if he took pride in it.

"So what brings you here, Majesty?" Acheron asked, his tone mocking and cold. "Do you wish to spend time with me, too?"

It was then I realized the hurt boy I'd saved was gone. The man on the bed was bitter. Angry. Defiant.

This wasn't the youth who'd fearfully snuck out of his room so that he could feel the grass on his feet.

This was a man who had been used one time too many. And he wanted the world to know exactly how much he hated it and everyone who was part of it.

"Get up," my father snarled. "Cover yourself."

One corner of his mouth quirked up in a mocking expression. "Why? People pay five hundred gold pieces an hour to see me naked. You should be honored you get to look for free."

Father strode over, grabbed him roughly by his arm and pulled him from the bed.

Acheron covered Father's hand with his own and tsked at him. "It's a thousand gold pieces an hour if you want to bruise me."

Bile rose in my throat.

Father backhanded Acheron so hard he fell to the floor where he sprawled naked on his back.

Laughing, Acheron licked at the blood on his lips before he wiped it away on the back of his scarred hand. "It's fifteen hundred to make me bleed."

My father curled his lips. "You're disgusting."

With a wry grin, Acheron rolled to his side and gracefully pushed himself up from the floor. "Careful, Father, you might actually hurt my feelings." He walked around my father like a proud, stalking lion, looking him up and down. "Oh wait, I forgot. Whores don't have feelings. We have no dignity for you to offend."