Brandor tensed, watching them for any hint of a coming attack. “I know you don’t trust me. You’ve no reason to, but Blaise can tell you that I’ve been privy to Morgen’s most secured council for years.”
“True, and why are you here and not buried in some part of her body, where you normally live?” Blaise all but growled those words.
Anger sparked in Brandor’s eyes, but he restrained it admirably. “I was caught trying to smuggle a portal key to my sister. Morgen gave me no chance to explain before I was banished here in one of her more stellar rage-fits.”
That news seemed to shock Blaise.
“Who’s your sister?”
Medea laughed at Falcyn’s question, unable to believe he could miss the obvious, given how observant he normally was in all other matters. “Brogan.”
“Brogan?” Urian, Blaise, and Falcyn spoke in unison.
Brandor gaped at Medea. “How could you tell?”
She gestured at the two of them. “It’s obvious. You look just alike. And while she hugged you, it wasn’t what one would give to a boyfriend or lover. It was definitely familial. Are you twins?”
Brogan finally stepped away from him. She cast a sheepish glance toward Blaise. “Aye. I told you it could have been much worse. My brother’s life makes a mockery of mine and my sisters’ combined. To protect me from their fate, Bran gave up the bulk of his powers at puberty—transferred them to me so that I’d be stronger and have more value.”
Sadness darkened Brandor’s eyes. “I’ve been trying to help Ro for a long time. But Morgen can’t abide Deathseers in her Circle or the fey court. And as Ro said, I have little power left. The moment I heard you’d been pulled into her realm, I knew this was the only shot we’d ever have of helping each other, and getting her free.”
“So what news do you have to share?” Medea wanted to keep him on point and not let him wander to inconsequential details.
“Morgen has made a pact with the god Apollo. They’re after the goddess Apollymi and intend to use her army of Charonte to kill Acheron and take over Myddangeard and Olympus.”
That was all well and good, except for one thing.
Her people.
“And the Daimons protecting Apollymi?”
“Apollo has sent a plague to kill them and the gallu to punish them for their rebellion against him.”
Well, that explained the foreign illness that was tearing through their ranks. No wonder they couldn’t fight it off. Damn her grandfather for it! Was he never to grow a heart and leave them in peace?
“Why do they want my stone?” Falcyn asked.
“It’s the only thing that can stop them. The gallu need a dragonstone to repair your brother’s tablet. Apparently, Hadyn’s treasure is a key of some sort they need to free their dimme sisters.”
The expression on Falcyn’s face said there was much more to it than that, but he didn’t comment. “Yeah, well, they can rot.” He shook his head. “I’m not about to help any of them.”
Brandor gave him an arch stare. “Not even to save your own sister?”
That cold steel hatred returned to Falcyn’s eyes, and it made Medea’s blood run cold. “Don’t go there.”
Brandor glanced to Brogan. “I would never taunt anyone with such a cruelty. Family should never be used as a bartering tool. But it’s what they will hold over you and use against you if you don’t do what they want. It’s why I told Ro to bring you here. I know where Sarraxyn is, and I will take you to her before they hurt her to get to you.”
“For what price?”
He took his sister’s hand. “You’ve already paid it. You freed my sister from her realm and brought her to me so that I can protect her from her master. I’ll help you free yours from hers. It’s the least I can do.”
Blaise shook his head. “Bullshit. I don’t believe you.”
Brogan’s cheeks brightened with color. “You can trust him, Blaise. He’s a good man.”
“I don’t trust anyone who beds down with Morgen.”
“Says the mandrake who served the Kerrigan?” Urian cocked a sarcastic brow.
Finally quelled, Blaise cleared his throat. “Okay … valid point taken.”
Urian sighed as he cast his gaze around each of them. “Yeah, I don’t think anyone in this group can judge another for their past deeds.”
Medea didn’t comment on that. Mostly because he was right. All of them had served evil at some point.
Of course, she and Brogan were the only two who continued to do so.
But still …
“This is all well and good, but let’s not lose sight of the fact that Urian and I aren’t here on a vacation. I need your dragonstone, Falcyn. There’s still the matter of the plague that’s spreading through my people. I can’t watch my parents and best friend die. I’ve had enough of death and I don’t want any more of it.”
Brandor scowled at her. “You’re the daughter of Stryker?”
His question brought her suspicion straight to the forefront and put her instantly on guard. “How do you know that?”
“Morgen and Apollo. As I said, I’ve been privy to Morgen’s most intimate councils. The word brevalaer is fey for nothing. Which is exactly what she considers me. Therefore she never worried what I heard or saw, as she didn’t think I could use it against her.”
Falcyn narrowed his eyes on Brandor. “How much have you heard?”
“Everything.”
Blaise nodded. “She kept him literally chained to her throne or bed most of the time. I can attest to that.”
“Well, if you know so much, any idea why we can’t turn into dragons right now?”
“No, but I can tell you this. If Narishka made a bargain and you turned her down, they’ll put a hit out on you.”
“What kind of hit?”
“Ever heard of a strykyn?”
Medea had no idea what that was, but the anger flaring up in those steely blues said that Falcyn had dealt with more than his fair share of them.
“I’ve killed a few.” Oh yeah, his voice was scarcely more than a fierce growl.
“That’s what they’ll be sending … along with anything else they can bribe.”
Medea waited for an explanation, but they didn’t seem eager to elaborate. So she prompted them. “What’s a strykyn?”
Falcyn gave her a cold stare. “Children of Stryx.”
“The water witch?”
He nodded. “Yeah, and they’re what your father was named after. Fierce birds of prey who once served Ares in his larger battles. They are the black war owls with red wings and gold beaks who live on the edge of Hades where they feast on the souls of the damned and eat the carcasses of cowards.”
The ones that traveled in swarms and could bring down entire armies …
She gaped at the old legend her mother had used to frighten her into behaving when she’d been a girl. But instead of using their real name, her mother, being an Atlantean Apollite, had referred to them as Greek War Birds. “His prized birds he suckled on the blood of misbehaving infants and children?”
“Yeah. For battle or to fight, they shift into large, mountainous warriors with serious attitude problems. Bastards so irritable, they make me look friendly.”
That she’d like to see.
Urian cursed. “Apollo must have seized them when he defeated Ares and the others on Olympus and took it over.”
“Would be my guess and our luck.” Falcyn cursed under his breath. “Damn it. We really got to kick their asses out of that place soon.”
Great. Medea’s head was starting to throb again. “How do we fight and defeat them?”
Brogan crossed her arms over her chest. “The fruit of the strawberry tree can paralyze them.”
“Good to know.” Medea glanced around the bleak landscape that sadly lacked strawberry trees. Too bad they weren’t allergic to drab gray ick.…
“Any other tricks?”
Brandor considered it a moment. “They can be diverted with other meats. Even if it’s raw. But if they catch you, there’s no way to escape them.”