His breathing labored and pain-filled, Styxx realized that for the first time in months he wasn't locked up. If he could get to the door Estes had used, he might be able to escape. Seizing that hope, he forced himself to ignore the agony of his bleeding burns and wounds to crawl across the ragged cobblestone floor. It took several minutes, but he finally reached the door.
Joy spread through him as he rose to his knees and touched the latch.
Almost there ...
Styxx was so close to freedom now that he could taste it on his parched tongue.
He'd just freed the latch when the door behind him opened. Terrified, he shoved against the wood and forced himself to stand. As he tried to run, someone slammed into him, knocking him to the ground.
No!
Roughly, a priest rolled him over and crashed Styxx's bruised body against the stone. "Where do you think you're going, Highness?"
Back to Tartarus.
Styxx turned his head so that he saw rays of sunlight through an open window in the temple hall. He hadn't seen the sun since his father had dumped him here. Without a word, he reached for it, wanting to feel it just one more time. But the priest seized him and dragged him back to his dark cell where he left him alone.
Closing his eyes, Styxx did his best to remember what the sun had felt like on his skin as he heard the door lock him in his misery. He hadn't been crazy when they'd put him here, but with every passing day, he felt his sanity slipping. He did his best to hold on to it, yet what was the use?
"Why? Why can't you kill me or take my mind?" Styxx silently asked the god who came so often to torment him.
"All you have to do is say the magic word, little prince. You know my price."
Tears filled Styxx's eyes. "I will not be your whore. My freedom's not worth it."
"No?" the god mocked. "Well then have fun with your priests."
August 30, 9535 BC
"We've had progress. But the evil daemons are attracted by his great beauty and wealth. They are fighting us hard."
Styxx opened his eyes as he heard the priest entering his torture chamber. For a full minute, he couldn't breathe as he saw his uncle and father with the old man.
His lips quivered as hope went through him. Was it finally over? Surely his father couldn't leave him like this.... Not if he loved him.
Estes rushed to his side and placed a tender hand on his bald head. "Styxx? Can you hear me?"
He gave a weak nod.
A tic started in his jaw as Estes looked back at his father. "See what I was telling you? They've ruined him."
Styxx met his father's gaze, but the lack of feeling there hit him harder than the priests' blows. How could his father not be indignant or horrified?
Something ...
But the king stood there, stoically. Unsympathetic to his pain. "It's for his own good, brother."
For his own good ...
Styxx would laugh if those words didn't bite so deeply.
"How can you say that? Look at him. They've scarred him abysmally. He'll never be the same."
"The scars are necessary, Highness and Majesty. They keep the daemons from coveting his young body."
But they didn't keep the gods from coveting it. The irony of that sickened him even more.
Estes cursed. "This is insane, Xerxes. The boy needs to go home."