“Good for Apollo!” Lysander declared with enthusiasm.
“Not so good as that,” Alexander corrected, his tone so stern that it caught Katina’s attention.
“But he was avenging a crime.”
“But he did it in the wrong way.” Alexander flicked a look at Katina that seemed portentous. “Apollo violated the sanctuary and home of Pytho, so he had to be punished for his transgression.”
Katina understood then the root of Alexander’s fear. He saw his attack upon Cetos as a violation and wasn’t sure how he would be punished. Her mouth went dry.
“How was he punished?”
“He was doomed to travel for eight years, doing service to mankind.”
Eight years. Alexander had been gone eight years. His first duty had been served. Did he fear he’d be assigned another similar term for his transgression?
Katina had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Alexander had only just returned. She couldn’t imagine losing him for another eight years so soon. She knew he would do his duty. She straightened, knowing that this time, she would wait for him, confident of his return.
She gave him an intent look and caught a glimpse of his surprise. Then he continued his story. “When Apollo returned to Delphi at the end of his service, he established the Oracle called the Pythia.”
“Why?”
“In his travels, Apollo persuaded Pan to reveal the art of prophecy to him. Upon his return, Apollo recognized that the fumes rising from the cracks in the earth at Delphi could induce visions in a person of purity. It was said that these fumes rose through the fissures in the earth that abound in that area and that they came from the decaying corpse of Pytho.”
Lysander shuddered and made a face. “I wouldn’t want to smell that.”
“It smells mostly of herbs and fire to visitors.”
“Barley and laurel leaves,” Katina contributed. “That’s what they burn on the sacred hearth.”
Alexander nodded. “Remember that Apollo saw the fumes as a gift of Gaia to mankind. Only the Pythia herself is engulfed in the fumes.”
“Who’s the Pythia?”
Alexander indicated Katina and she replied.
“The Pythia is the oracle of Apollo. A woman gives her life in service to the shrine, keeping herself pure so that she can hear the prophecies clearly.”
“The Pythia sits on a tripod perched over the crack in the sanctuary of the temple and speaks of her visions,” Alexander added.
Lysander looked between his parents with awe. “You’ve been there.”
“Of course.” Alexander cast Katina a quick smile that warmed her to her toes. “I met your mother in that same sanctuary in Delphi.”
Their son’s confusion was clear.
“I was taken as an offering to the Korykian Cave of the Nymphs by my parents,” Katina explained.
“Why would they do that?”
“Probably because of what we just saw,” Alexander said, his gaze lingering upon Katina. He seemed to be admiring, which made her feel more confident of his reaction.
She continued speaking to Lysander. “They didn’t know what to make of my gift, except surrender me to the gods. There are stories in our family of others like me, although we are said to be born only every seventh generation. My grandfather called me a Waterdaughter and said our family had been touched once by the divine. A naiad once fell in love with one of our ancestors, and then chose to be mortal to remain with him.”
“What else can you do?” Lysander asked.
“I can call the rain, or summon fresh water from a well gone dry. It is said that we can heal and give prophecies, too, which is what I’d hoped to learn.”
“Did you?”
Katina shook her head. “No, because they wouldn’t accept me as an offering. My parents were confused as to what to do, so they took me to Delphi to ask the Pythia about my fate. They paid for a prophecy.”
“Your future lies in fire and earth; the world’s in the son you birth,” Alexander said quietly.
“Is that the prophecy?” At Katina’s nod, Lysander frowned. “What does it mean?”
“Well, it meant your mother couldn’t serve in a shrine, because to fulfill the prophecy she had to have a son.” Once again, Alexander gave Katina a simmering glance. Were their thoughts as one? “Women who serve must remain untouched by men, all their lives.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I met your father when the Pythia gave her prophecy, for he was serving in the sanctuary. And, in that moment, it seemed my destiny was clear.” Katina caught her breath in recollection of the first spark of the firestorm, the flame that had seemed to ignite her very soul.
That was when she knew she had to feel Alexander’s heat within her again, at least one more time.
Lysander, fortunately, didn’t seem to notice the way his parents were looking at each other. “Is that prophecy about me?”
Katina smiled. “I don’t have another son.”
His delight was clear, then he turned to his father. “But why were you there?”
“Pelias saw that I was Pyr and took me to Delphi,” Alexander said. “We Pyr are said to be the spark cast by Apollo’s killing of Pytho, so we serve at his shrine.”
Katina watched their son consider this. “Is that why you’re taking me to Delphi?”
Alexander smiled and put his hand on his son’s head. “Yes. You will serve in the sanctuary, just as I did, and you will be taught how to manage your abilities as they develop.” He flicked the quickest glance at Katina before he continued. “One day, you may be summoned to serve mankind for eight years. If that occurs, you will go.”
“Why?”
“Because you will swear to it when you pledge yourself to Apollo and Gaia.” Alexander paused for a moment, as if debating the merit of saying more. Katina was glad when he did. “There are three pieces of wisdom engraved on the walls at Delphi, Lysander, and they are words that will stand you in good stead if you remember them.”
“I will remember them.”
“The first is ‘Know Thyself.’ At Delphi, you will be trained to know your abilities.” Katina considered how much she had to learn about her own abilities. Would that quest take her away from Alexander? She hoped not.
Lysander nodded.
“The second is ‘Nothing in Excess,’ a maxim I learned well myself long before I came to Delphi. Doing that will ensure that you use your powers well.” He fell silent then, despite the boy’s inquisitive looks.
“And the third?” Katina prompted.
Alexander met her gaze steadily. “‘Make a pledge and mischief is nigh.’”
Katina frowned, thinking of all the pledges each of them had made. She eased closer to Alexander and dropped her voice. “You don’t want to be called to serve, because of your transgression.”
Alexander nodded and took her hand, his thumb sliding across her skin in a smooth caress. “Cetos is dead,” he said softly. “Jorge killed him.”
Katina bit her lip, glad that Cetos was out of pain, and out of her life. She felt that strange sense of freedom and optimism again. “It’s been said that any man who covets a naiad will die childless of a broken heart.”
“Is that why your parents didn’t support our marriage?”
Katina winced. “I think they liked you. They feared for your future.”
Alexander’s gaze trailed after Lysander, who was marching ahead of them. Theo had gone back to sleep again. “They didn’t know that I wasn’t a man.”
Katina met Alexander’s gaze, her heart pounding. “No. But I don’t think you were to blame for Cetos’ death.”
Alexander didn’t appear to be convinced. “It depends. It could have been my fault that Jorge came to your home. I certainly had no right to possess Cetos’ wife.” Katina might have argued but Alexander raised a finger. “I have to ask the Pythia. I won’t make another pledge to you until I’m sure I can keep it.” Alexander caught her hand in his and kissed her f
ingertips.
But Katina would have more than that salute from him before they reached Delphi, if only to have a night to remember.
Chapter Five
They stopped in the evening in a village, where they rented a room from an older woman who was glad of the coin. She fed them a hot meal, even managing to coax Theo to eat a little. The story that they were going to Delphi to seek counsel made perfect sense to the woman, who fussed a bit over Theo in his obvious weakness. The long day of walking and the hot meal made Lysander sleepy with comical speed. Alexander left Katina with the boys as she settled them into bed, then returned to the empty courtyard of the house to look at the stars and think.
Did he dare to hope for a future in this world, with the woman he’d missed so much? Was Jorge truly gone? Could he believe his family was safe? Alexander wasn’t one to pray, but he did so that night in the darkness.
“Where were you?” Katina asked quietly.
He turned to find her in the doorway of the room they’d rented, her hair loose over her shoulders and her eyes tired. She was wearing Pelias’ cloak, the red hue favoring her coloring.
Alexander had known it was only a matter of time before Katina asked him for the truth—and that he’d share it with her. He moved along the bench and she came to sit beside him, nestling against his shoulder.
“Would you mind if Theo stayed with us?” he asked and Katina shook her head.
“You don’t think his father is coming back, do you?”
Alexander took her hand in his and sighed. “I would hope that one of my comrades would do the same for Lysander in my place.”
“Of course,” Katina said. “I’ll take care of him, even if you can’t.”
She spoke with the generosity of spirit that he admired in her, and Alexander felt some of his tension ease away. They could be good partners, if the Pythia gave them the chance. He didn’t want to promise her too much, but he dared to take her hand and smiled when she curled her fingers around his.
They sat together in silence for a while, the stars glinting high above them. He was aware of the enticing scent of her skin, the rhythm of his son’s breathing a dozen steps away, the sounds of the rest of the household in slumber. He could feel the beat of Katina’s heart, the bright spark of her curiosity and recalled his old conviction that there was something special about her.
More than he’d guessed. Now, he could see the silvery glimmer to her skin, the hint of her powers that never completely faded from his view.
Now that he knew how to look.
He understood why her eyes were as dark as a fathomless pool, why her hair flowed down her back like a turbulent river, why she had such empathy for all of those around her, how she could accommodate any change or challenge—much as a river will find its way around any obstacle.
“What started the rumors about you?” he asked.
“I can never forget what I can do,” Katina admitted softly. “There’s so much good that can be done with such a gift. There was a drought in the village and children were thirsty. I couldn’t bear the sight of their suffering.”
“So you made it rain.” Alexander could guess the rest. “And someone saw you.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I can only assume so. No one would talk to me directly about it, but the whispers began. They whispered about the gods and their influence. I was never certain whether more people feared the favor of the gods—because they are so capricious—or their wrath. No woman would let her husband or son come near us. Lysander was told stories about naiads and their insatiable desires for men. He repeated them to me without any understanding of why he was being told them.” She met Alexander’s gaze. “I had to do something so that he wouldn’t be damaged by what I am. I had to protect him. No man would have me, so I sent word to Cetos, asking if he still wished to marry me. He did.”
“I’m sorry I was gone,” Alexander said.
“I have no regrets in my choices. It was always said that my kind would be unhappy in marriage, and I’d been lucky for a year, at least.”
“It’s not enough.”
“It had to be enough.” She looked at him with all the light of the stars in her eyes and he ached that he couldn’t make her the promise they both wanted to hear.
“I wish we had been honest with each other sooner,” he said and meant it.
Katina smiled and curled her fingers around his. “What’s important is that we’re honest with each other now.”
“You only know part of the truth, Katina, and the rest isn’t good.”
His bold wife didn’t flinch or avert her gaze. “Tell me,” she urged.
Alexander stared at the ground, uncertain where to start, but once he did start, the words flowed more easily. He wondered, even as he spoke, whether that, too, was part of her gift. He told her of marching away with Drake and the company of Pyr, of their sworn task to hunt those of their kind who had turned against mankind and silence them forever.
“We called them vipers.”
“But what do vipers do?”
“They bury themselves deep in the earth and whisper a spell of evil. Their songs aren’t discerned by men on a conscious level, but they enchant the men within their range. They fill the hearts of those men with wickedness and incite them to violence.”
Katina shivered. “Like old-speak. We can’t hear it clearly, but it can influence us.”
Alexander nodded. “And like beguiling.” At her questioning glance, he continued. “A Pyr can enthrall a mortal, by lighting flames in his eyes. The mortal stares and is entranced, at which point he can be told what to believe or what to think.”
Katina frowned, as Alexander had known she would. “Have you done this?”
“I don’t have the skill and don’t wish to learn it.”
She looked away from him. “Maybe that’s what happened to Cetos.” At Alexander’s frown, she held up a finger. “He was never violent before or so filled with rage. And it makes no sense to me that he would agree to send Lysander away. He wasn’t happy that I had a son, but there was never such a desire to be rid of him, much less entrust his welfare to a stranger. He was like a different man. What if he was enchanted? What if the merchant who wanted to buy Lysander was Jorge?”
Alexander was startled by the idea, but the more he considered it, the more sense it made. Trust Katina to see what he’d overlooked. He squeezed her hand. “You’re right. Jorge could have smelled Pyr on Cetos and pursued him. I smelled Slayer when Cetos came home.”
“I’ve interrupted your story,” Katina said, smiling at him. “Tell me.”
He told her of their company hunting a viper to its lair and their attack upon that fiend. He cast a glance at her, knowing that few other women would believe this part of the story. “We thought we had defeated him, but that was part of his spell. In fact, we were enchanted ourselves and captured by the viper.”
“How?”
“Each warrior snared by a viper becomes another of his teeth, a weapon that can be used against mankind against his own will.”
“You became teeth?”
“All of us. In time, the viper aged and grew soft, more like a worm. His teeth fell out, although we were still enchanted. The teeth were discovered, collected, even coveted by men who sensed there was something potent about them. We were trapped in that form until we were sown in the earth and given release.” He ran his thumb across Katina’s hand. “And when that finally occurred, more than two thousand years had passed.
She stared at him in astonishment.
“I thought to never see you again. I thought all of this was as dust and lost to me forever, but then something strange happened.”
Katina bit back a smile. “Only the first strange thing?” she teased.
Alexander couldn’t smile because the next part of the story troubled him deeply. “My kind know of a special flame, called darkfire. I don’t know its origins, but it burns with a blue-green light. Some wizard had locked this force into three quartz
crystals, but a Slayer broke one of them in those future times, releasing it.” Alexander sighed. “Its talent is in introducing unpredictability. Strange things become possible when the darkfire burns, and assumptions are challenged if not overturned.”
“That’s how you got back,” Katina guessed. “That’s what the light was that glittered when Jorge disappeared.”
“Drake, our leader, believed we had to take custody of one of the remaining darkfire crystals, and so we did.”
“Why?”
“He heard a summons and took it as a command. I don’t know if the crystal commanded him or another Pyr, but with Drake, there was no question but to obey.”
“Drake is the commander you knew here as Stephanos? The father of Theo?”
Alexander nodded. “He believed his past was lost beyond retrieval, we all did, so he chose to take a new name. The enchantment changed us, all of us.”
“Yes,” Katina said quietly, then reached to kiss his cheek. “How could it not?”
Alexander looked at her, needing to know if she preferred him now or before.
Katina smiled a little, affection in her eyes. “Your emotions are easier to read. Maybe I’ve changed, too, but I feel closer to you now, not just when we’re making love.”
A lump rose in Alexander’s throat. Could the darkfire give him a gift? He knew it could, just as he knew it could snatch away any delight for some caprice of its own.
He cleared his throat, knowing that Katina waited for the rest of the tale. “As soon as Drake had the crystal in his hand, the light of the darkfire within it began to brighten and pulse. It would flare to brilliance and when its light faded, we would find ourselves transported, through space and perhaps through time. We weren’t sure what was happening, but we lost many men along the way. The fourth time, it deposited us near the village and I knew where we were.” He frowned, staring at her hand, and his voice dropped low. “Drake said they would wait, but the crystal lit once again.” He glanced up at Katina. “I ran away from them, to ensure that I was left behind. I had to see you.”