Myths of Immortality (The Sphinx Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Authors Note

  Acknowledgements

  Index

  About the Author

  Resounding Silence

  Runes

  Myths of Immortality

  by Raye Wagner

  Copyright © 2016 Rachel Wagner

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, media, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

  Edited by Sara Meadows, Kelly Hashway, and Krystal Wade

  Book Design by Jo Michaels

  Cover Design by StudioOpolis

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.

  For Jacob, Seth, and Anna

  A mother’s love knows no bounds

  His stomach dropped, and what little Athan had eaten turned to rock. He wasn’t feeling well, far from it, but that was typical of being cut by a Skia blade. However, even though he was injured, it was the news from the demigod standing over him that made Athan’s mind spin and his weakened body protest every single move he made. Athan clenched his teeth in frustration.

  Hope had disappeared. Again. And Xan couldn’t find her.

  But Xan wasn’t psachno . Not anymore. Years ago, they’d worked together to find demigods and bring them to safety. However, Xan had been punished and lost the right. But then he’d been mentoring Hope, so maybe he’d regained some of his privileges. Athan cursed under his breath, while he tried to convince himself that, despite what Xan said, he probably didn’t know how to run a search anymore.

  Xan’s ice-blue glare contradicted Athan’s feeble attempts at self-delusion. The demigod son of Ares clenched and unclenched his fists before resting his elbows on the kitchen table and dropping his chin in his hands.

  The darkness of night was fading, but it would be at least another hour before the sun was up. The shadows in the large kitchen had been banished when Xan turned on the light, but they seemed to be lying in wait to take back over, both in the hallway of the conservatory as well as the gloominess just outside the windows. The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, and Xan surveyed the picked-over fruit and cheese tray.

  “I don’t understand how she could disappear like that. Even that attorney doesn’t know where they went.” Xan grabbed a slice of cheese from the tray and took a bite.

  As Xan spoke, Athan leaned across the table, drawn by the other demigod’s words. But the edge dug uncomfortably into his ribs, so he sat back. “What attorney?”

  He looked at Dion and then back to Xan. Xan continued chewing, staring back like he was measuring Athan, and he was coming up short. Athan simmered with frustration, and he repeated his question.

  Xan swallowed before answering. “The one Priska used to work for. He manages Hope’s estate. Hope and Priska were there about a week ago. No contact since.”

  It wasn’t easy to admit, but maybe Xan hadn’t lost all his skills. Ten days was a long time to be out. Bits and pieces of the Skia attack and the drive back to the conservatory flitted through Athan’s mind. “What happened?” He vaguely remembered arguing with Endy and . . . punching him? Had that happened? Athan looked at his hands, but his skin was unmarred. There had been lots of yelling, he was sure of that. What had Endy wanted with her? Had she gotten the information she needed to break the curse? Athan felt like there was a piece he was missing. A big piece. “Why did she run?”

  Dion studiously drank wine as he rotated the bottle on the table. He didn’t even look up from his glass as he mumbled, “Endy and his brothers attacked her.”

  At the same time, Xan said, “Endy and Obelia found her weapons.”

  Panic washed through Athan, and fear for Hope made his stomach churn. Apollo’s sons were ruthless and cruel, and his mind raced through the horror that could mean. A driving need to find Hope and make sure she was okay made him want to leap up, but the nausea made his head spin, and he had to close his eyes to get the room to stop spinning. If he stood, there was a pretty good chance he’d pass out, and Athan refused to show weakness in front of Xan. Sitting back in the chair, Athan wished he hadn’t gotten out of bed yet. No. That wasn’t right at all. Guilt spread its tentacles of shame through his chest. He should’ve been up days ago. And if he hadn’t been injured by the Skia’s blade, he could’ve been awake for all of it. With a deep breath, he dismissed what could’ve been and focused on the moment. Gathering information would be first, which meant he needed help from the son of Ares. Athan fixed Xan with a hard stare. “What do you know?”

  Xan clenched his jaw and balled his fists. He looked like he wanted to murder something. Or someone.

  “Are you going to try to kill her?” Athan whispered. He was in no state to fight Xan if he said yes. So what would Athan do? What could he do?

  Xan sat up, resting his arms on the back of the chair. “You shouldn’t have kept that secret, Athan. She’s a monster, and you knew it.”

  He sounded tired, but Athan gritted his teeth. He had no sympathy for the son of Ares. “I wasn’t going to let you kill her.”

  Xan tilted his head to the side and studied Athan. He scratched his cheek, the scruffy growth making a chuffing sound with the friction. “Is that what you think?”

  Xan used to boast of the monsters he’d killed. Athan had been there, more than once, when Xan had mercilessly killed a satyr or centaur. At one point, Athan even believed Xan’s purported doctrine that monsters should be eradicated. Athan knew Xan killed monsters. “You want me to believe you wouldn’t have killed her if you’d known what she was?”

  Xan sighed and dropped his head to his hands. “I wouldn’t have killed her.” His blue eyes met Athan’s green ones. “Not for anything.”

  Athan’s heart stopped. He’d heard that tone before. He knew it even if Xan didn’t say it. Rage, long suppressed, threatened to overwhelm Athan. He swallowed, pushing back the emotion. Later. He would deal with it later. After he
found Hope.

  Xan looked as lost as Athan felt. “But at this point, it doesn’t really matter how I feel about Hope, does it?” Xan grimaced. “Apollo killed Endy and his brothers. Hope saw the whole thing, and Obelia . . .”

  Apollo? Good gods! Apollo had been there . . . with Hope? Athan’s stomach heaved, and he choked on the sour taste of vomit. The hits kept coming, and whatever he’d thought when he woke up seemed to border on the delusional. Athan closed his eyes and rested his chin on the table. It was time to face it head-on. Whatever it was. “Tell me everything.”

  Xan glared across the table. Whatever war seethed inside him seemed to center on Dionysus’s son. Then, with unnatural speed, he reached out and grabbed the wineglass from Dion, who yelped his protest but relinquished the glass. Xan took a large gulp and then a second one, draining the glass. “I wasn’t there,” he said with a shudder. “When Apollo showed up. And Obelia was passed out for most of it. Apollo warned her, though, and made her witness as he killed his sons. He said he won’t let anyone kill Hope. That she is his.”

  Dion scooted his chair back and stood. “I think I’ll just be going to bed now. I say good night.” He nodded at Xan and then at Athan. “It’s good you are feeling better, friend.” Dion’s eyes were tight with worry, but he offered Athan a smile and grabbed the bottle of wine. “Good night.”

  Xan glowered at Dion. “Sit down, arseface.”

  Dion dropped back into his chair but remained away from the table. The demigod clutched the wine bottle close to his chest, and his gaze darted around the room as if he were looking for a way to escape.

  “It’s a bloody mess,” Xan said, turning back to Athan. “Thenia demanded a full inquisition.”

  Worse than a quorum, an inquisition would involve one of the gods. Every single thing Xan said felt like a punch. A brutal punch. To Athan’s rapidly dwindling hope. “What are you going to—?”

  “Hope disappeared before Athena got here.” Xan eyed Dion and pointed at the wine bottle. When Dion didn’t immediately respond, the other demigod snapped his fingers.

  Dion hesitated and then took a long drink right from the bottle before extending it to Xan.

  Xan curled his lip but dropped his hand. With a prolonged exhale, he faced Athan. “I’ve got to find Hope first. Then we can figure out what to do.” Xan unwound himself from the chair and pointed at Athan. “You better get some rest.” Xan grabbed the bottle from Dion. “You should sober up.”

  Xan dropped the bottle in the sink on his way out of the kitchen.

  Xan was an ass. But, regardless of his reasons, he’d been looking for Hope when Athan couldn’t. A trickle of gratitude took residence in his heart . . . grudgingly. Athan rubbed his eyes then looked at Dion. The other demigod looked awful with red-shot eyes and rumpled clothes. At least Athan could count on Dion being cooperative. “How many did Apollo kill?”

  Dion swallowed, and his hazy gaze looked for relief on the table before focusing on the sink where the empty bottle of wine now resided. His swarthy skin turned ashen, and he sunk into his chair. “All of them. Endy, Tre, Ty. Even Prax. All burned to ash. He made Obelia witness that no more demigods would try to harm Hope. Or Apollo will kill them. I think she is mad now.” He grabbed the empty glass and held it upside down over his mouth. The last of the wine dripped on to his tongue, and he looked around the kitchen and sighed. “It’s not right, Athan.”

  Athan wasn’t going to worry about Apollo’s sons. Even though they were demigods, the world would be a better place with four less bullies. But Xan’s treatment of Dion made no sense. Dion was just being Dion, the same as always. “What’s up with Xan?”

  Dion shrugged. “They called for apartia . Endy and Obelia. Before . . . when they found Hope’s knives. Xan was arguing for her to stay.” He shook his head. “But with the inquisition . . . He almost seemed relieved she was gone. But I don’t think he believed she would disappear. He was very upset.”

  Athan could imagine. Xan was used to getting his own way. Or making it. “What has he done?”

  Dion shook his head again. “He went looking for her. Just got back last night. I stayed here. This makes him upset, no?”

  Anyone opposing Xan would make Xan upset. So strange that he was actually fighting for Hope. More than anything, Athan hoped he was misinterpreting Xan’s feelings. But, what else was in it for him?

  “This is quite chalia , a mess, no? I’m sorry, Athan.” Dion sat picking at the cheese tray. When Athan scooted his chair back, Dion stood. “I will help you.” He motioned toward the stairs. “I know . . . I know I am not always a good friend, but . . .”

  It was a mess, a cryptic puzzle, and Athan didn’t even know the whole of it, let alone what and where the pieces were. “It’s okay, Dion. If you help me to bed, I’ll count you as my very best friend.”

  They both chuckled, but the gnawing fear in Athan’s chest reminded him that there was nothing funny. Apollo was tracking Hope, and she’d disappeared. Athan needed to get better so he could find her.

  Athan slept late. When his eyes pushed themselves into consciousness, his brain and body followed. His stiff muscles felt like he’d worked out too hard, but when he pushed to the edge of the bed and stood, his legs solidly held him up. He was finally better.

  The hot water from the shower pounded the soreness from his muscles. After turning off the water, he grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and opened the bathroom door. The steam cleared, and Athan nearly dropped his towel. “Skata !”

  Obelia sat cross-legged on his bed. She looked up at him with red-rimmed wide eyes. “Athan—”

  “What in the name of Hades are you doing in here?” He didn’t wait for an answer but crossed the room, pulled clothes from the dresser, and then went back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He pulled his clothes on, his shirt sticking to his still-wet skin while he continued fuming. What was wrong with her?

  He opened the door, and shook his head at her. Obelia needed to respect his boundaries. His nerves were raw with worry and unanswered questions about Hope, and he snapped. “Zeus and Poseidon, Obelia. Can’t you wait downstairs like anyone else?”

  Obelia’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked up, blinking over and over again before she would meet his gaze. “I heard your shower running. I wanted to see—” Her voice dropped, and she coughed. “I didn’t think you would mind. I thought . . . I . . . I thought . . .” She stood up, and the tears dripped from her cheeks onto her shirt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m glad to see you up.”

  She didn’t wait for a reply, and before he could think of what to say, she’d left the room.

  “Skata .” She’d been there when Apollo killed his sons, and Dion’s words came back in a rush. He’d told Athan that Obelia wasn’t herself anymore. Maybe he’d been too harsh with her. But seriously, in his room? He went back to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. No sense making a big deal about it now. He’d do what he could to spare Obelia’s feelings, but his concern was for Hope. He’d need to find out as much as he could before he went after her. As he walked down the hall, he braced himself in case he had to deal with Obelia again.

  By the time he got to the bottom of the stairs, his knees were shaking. This fatigue was exasperating. His strength wasn’t coming back fast enough. He braced his hand on the wall as he crossed into the kitchen. Relief washed over him when he saw the pantry door open and the curvy Kaia rummaging through the contents.

  “Excuse me, Kaia?” he called out to her as he made his way to the table.

  The raven-haired young woman stood straight. She turned slowly, her brown eyes, normally warm and friendly, hardened as she focused on Athan. “Yes?”

  He sagged into a chair. He’d happily listen to whatever was bothering her after he ate. He waved at the contents of the pantry. “Would you please bring me something to eat?”

  Demeter’s daughter frowned as her gaze turned into a glower. “What?”

  Athan’s
nerves twitched. He could feel the rising tension, but nothing about it made sense. “I don’t particularly care, really, as long as I can eat it in the form you give me. I just need something: bread, crackers, cereal. Or there was a fruit and cheese tray last night—”

  Kaia shook her head as if he’d asked her to cut off her own extremity and give it to him. “You think I’m going to help you?”

  Athan stared at her. His mind strained as he tried to figure out what he’d done to offend her, but he was coming up blank. Kaia was always helpful. Patient. Sweet. Nurturing . He couldn’t reconcile the sneer with the demigod before him. “Why wouldn’t you help me?”

  She barked a cruel laugh. “Because of you, the conservatory is all going to Hades. Because you decided to go out with a monster .” She spit the last word as if it were a curse.

  Her words stung, and anger coursed through him. How dare she?

  “Did you know?” She sneered. “Did you know you were courting a beast? That you were putting us all at risk? You’re as selfish as a god.” Kaia’s voice was filled with incredulity and hurt.

  He and Kaia had never been close, but they’d always gotten along fine. Her hostility was . . . disconcerting. It made no sense. At all. “Why do you care?”

  “She’s not a demigod. She’s not even human, Athan.” Kaia crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s cursed, not fit to live.”

  He recognized Kaia’s words as the twisted contempt for monsters that most demigods held. At some point, he’d probably said the same. But now the words felt like a tool to separate, to segregate. To manipulate . He crossed the kitchen and towered over her. “Who do you think you are to make that decision?”

  “I didn’t make the decision,” she said as she puffed out her chest. “It was made long ago, by those smarter than you.”

  Years ago, he’d had no response. Now he saw her words for what they were: propaganda. And his experiences with Hope had given him perspective. “You’re wrong. You think you’re better. That as a demigod—”

  “We are better!” Kaia screamed as tears filled her eyes. “We. Are. Better. And you ruined it.” The tears spilled over, and her nose ran, but the daughter of Demeter wiped at the wetness with her sleeve. “And you’re just a liar, anyway—”