Acheron

No one did.

It was only later that I learned Father had forbidden it. So I sat with Acheron for hours, holding his head as he quietly wept from the pain.

But whether he cried from the throbbing wounds of his back or the deeper ache in his heart, I didn't know. Gods, how I wanted to take him back to that day in the orchard when it'd been just the three of us playing and laughing. Away to some place where he could be free and lackadaisical, where he'd be a normal boy of nineteen as he should have been.

When he finally fell to sleep, I continued to brush my hand through his golden hair as I stared at the ragged welts on his back. I couldn't imagine a pain so severe.

"I love you, Acheron," I whispered, wishing my love was enough to spare him from this.

December 10, 9529 BC

After that day, I never spoke again of the fact I knew Acheron continued to slip out of the palace to go to plays. Many days I followed him just to make sure no one bothered him. That no one knew what it was he did.

He kept to the shadows, his identity and beauty carefully guarded. His head was always hung low, his gaze on the ground as he passed through the unsuspecting crowds.

Acheron risked much to go. We both knew it. I'd asked him once why he dared so much and he'd told me simply that it was all that comforted him.

He liked to watch the characters in the plays. Liked to pretend he was one of them. How could I fault him for that when so little brought joy to his life?

As my union with Apollo drew critically near, I spent more and more time in Acheron's chambers. He alone didn't treat the event as some magical moment that I should be anticipating with relish and enthusiasm.

He saw it for the horror it was.

I too was being whored. Only Father saw my whoredom as noble and wonderful.

"Will it hurt much when he takes me?" I asked Acheron as we sat on his balcony that overlooked the sea below.

I was on the ground while Acheron sat up on the banister as he always did. He balanced precariously over the edge of it which dropped down to the raging sea.

I was terrified of heights, but he seemed oblivious to the danger.

"It depends on Apollo and his mood. It always depends on your lovers and how much force they use. How much pleasure they take from causing you pain."

That didn't comfort me since I couldn't control someone else's mood. "Was it painful your first time?"

He nodded subtly, his eyes blank. "At least you won't have an audience when he violates you."

"Did you?"

He didn't answer, but then he didn't have to. His expression told me that he had.

My heart aching for him and the horror he must have known, I looked down at the cord I was twisting in my hands. "Do you think Apollo will hurt me?"

"I don't know, Ryssa." His tone showed his impatience. He always hated talking about intercourse. Then again, he hated talking, period.

But I had to know what was coming and no one else would speak to me of such things. I met his swirling gaze. "Just how painful can it be?"

He glanced away, out toward the sea. "Try not to think about it. Just close your eyes and imagine that you're a bird. Imagine that you live high up in the clouds and that there's nothing that can touch you there. You're free to fly anywhere you want to go."

"Is that what you do?"

"Sometimes."

"And others?"

He didn't respond.

So we sat there in silence, listening to the waves below crash against the rocks. For the first time, I finally understood some of his pain. His humiliation. I wanted no part in my future and yet I had no choice.

As I listened to the waves, it reminded me of the time we'd spent alone when he was younger. Of the hours he used to spend on the rocks, listening to the sea and the voices that called out to him. "Do you still hear the gods' voices, Acheron?"

He nodded.

"Do you hear them now?"

"Yes."

Years ago, he'd told me they were the gods calling out to him. Telling him to come home. "Do you ever think of doing what they say?"

He shook his head. "I never want to go back to Atlantis. I hate it there."

I could well understand that and it made me wonder how much more he must hate it here. Sorrow always followed him and it was never his fault. How awful not to be able to show your own face for fear of people assaulting you. Everywhere he went, everyone who came near wanted him with a desperation that made no sense.

Even I desired him. I was only grateful that he couldn't feel those impure thoughts that came to me at the worst possible times.

But unlike the other people in his life, I would never act on them. He was my brother and I only wanted to protect him. Unlike the rest of my family, he saw the real me and loved me in spite of my faults. Just I as loved him in spite of his.

"Will you go with me tomorrow to the temple?" I asked quietly.

He looked startled by the question.

"Please, Acheron. I'm so scared of what they're pla

"It's not hard, Ryssa. Just lie there and act as if you like it."

"And if I don't?"

"You pretend you do. He'll be so intent on his own pleasure that he'll never even notice if you're grimacing or crying. Just tell him how skilled he is and how good it feels. That's all that matters."

I reached up from my place on the ground and took his hand in mine. I stared at the strength of his ta

But I wasn't as strong as Acheron. I couldn't do this alone. I wanted… no, I needed someone to be there. Someone I could trust to tell me the truth and to see tomorrow for the horror that it was. "Please come with me."

There was still reservation in his eyes. He didn't want to do this, but he nodded anyway.

Grateful, I kissed his hand and held it tightly in mine. He alone understood my fears. Knew what it felt like to be sold against his will.

In this we were kindred spirits.

December 11, 9529 BC

I'd tried my best to sleep, but it was fitful at best. This was to be the worst day of my life. Today, my own father would tie me to a god…

When it was time to leave for the temple, I found Acheron in the hallway outside my room wearing the bland colored peplos he used to visit the plays. As always, it was pulled up over his head to shield him from others.

It was good of him to come with me when I knew he didn't want to. I wanted to hold his hand for courage, but didn't dare for fear of drawing attention to him. The last thing I wanted was for him to be hurt again because of me.

Without a word, he followed me and my maidservants as we left the palace. I thought Father would meet me outside, but I was told he was already at the temple.

I hesitated there in the street as my courage fled and left me on trembling legs.

Turning back, I met Acheron's gaze. "Should I run?"

"They always brought me back whenever I tried and made me very sorry for the attempt."

My stomach cramped even more as I remembered the time I'd taken him from Atlantis. He'd told me then that he would be punished for my actions, but not once had he ever told me how. "What did Uncle do to you after I took you from-"

He placed his hand over my lips and shook his head. "You don't ever want to know."

I stared up into his silver eyes and saw the pain that was there and it was then I fully understood why he hadn't left behind the life our uncle had taught him. I remembered what he'd said to me at the brothel.

Without skills there was nothing either one of us could do. No way to support ourselves.