Page 18 of Immortal Sun (Dark Olympus)

CHAPTER 18

CLEO

“Often it is what happens to most others will happen to you.” — Eyrbyggja Saga, ch. 32

T he sea moves like a harsh hand going back and forth, stirring in violent circles and waves. Over and over, it crashes against the long ship, spilling onto my bare feet. I have ropes of metal and other trinkets wrapped around both ankles, and one tiny bell attached to the wraps on my right foot.

I find it comforting and strange at the same time, like I’ve worn it before but that it was used for something.

The boat rocks harder to the right, and within minutes I’m completely drenched. I stare down at my black dress and the hieroglyphics tattooed down my arms.

The dragon-shaped bow is nearly black, rising high into the sky with each wave like it’s meeting heaven.

Despite freezing, I feel at home. I welcome the salty water and the bitter air even though each breath hurts from the frozen storm.

Something is heavy around my waist. I steady myself against the side of the boat and feel something pressed to my right hip.

A sword.

My fingers itch to draw it even though nobody’s with me on the boat. The air has a strangely dark energy, like war’s about to break out. It feels necessary to grab the hilt of my sword and draw it. The enormous sword shimmers in the moonlight as I point to the sky and scream at the darkness.

Swells build up as the long wooden boat rocks sideways. I’m not afraid. I steady myself but the next wave crashes across the bow, sending me to my knees against the hard planks.

“You will always worship where you came from.” A man’s voice rumbles deeply behind me. “If you are born of the darkness, to the darkness you will return. You will sacrifice. You will live by it. Die by it.”

I turn around, and nobody’s there. When I look back toward the dragon, people suddenly appear, all clutching oars that are pushed out of the sides of the boat. They row in perfect cadence, against the waves, fighting them with each pull. The storm rages overhead while the darkness tries to overcome the sun ahead.

Thunder.

Lighting.

They were together, fighting for dominance and control. The sky is just as angry as the sea.

Who will win?

And is the battle just beginning?

I don’t know, but I watch. I grip the side of the boat and look up as if I know what’s going to happen, when I’m nothing. My fingers itch to grab an oar the way they itched to grab my sword. I steady myself as best I can and watch the people work.

The voice speaks again. “Worship is nothing next to sacrifice.”

I turn around, torrential rain pounds against my face. It’s nearly impossible to see let alone hold onto the side of the boat at this point.

“Sometimes,” the voice continues, “you have to drown to survive.”

“What?”

I’m still.

I feel nothing and everything all at once as fire burns around the boat in a massive circle above the water. The roll of thunder tries to take the boat down vibrating it and splintering it into pieces.

I scream.

A hooded figure watches from the bow of the boat. He’s huge as he stands over me, and then he flips his hood off and braces me against the boat. “I thought you wanted the burn. The truth.”

“Cyrus?” I ask.

“Ra,” he corrects with a wicked smile. His eyes are so bright, it’s almost painful to look into them. His inky hair sticks against his cheeks. “And now, you’ll start your lessons. You’re not ready. I was waiting, actually, for a few more days, but you’ve gotten too curious, too…” He turns toward me. “Stupid.”

“I’m not stupid.” I snap, tears welling in my eyes.

“Okay.” He shrugs like he didn’t just insult me. “So we’ll go with curious. Either way, you’re mine until the last drop of blood”—his grip around my wrist and twists. He presses a knife to the vein next to the very first rune on my wrist—“drains from your body, feeding everything it touches.” His forehead bangs against mine in a painful thud, his lips mouth the words against my own lips. “You’re mine.”

I exhale.

He inhales as the boat around us implodes to ash, everything happens in slow motion around me, the wood flying around us, the flames getting higher, and the sea allowing us to sink deeper.

“Now,” he whispers against my lips.

I taste him, I taste ash, I taste salt, I taste the earth. I taste fire.

“You can fully see…why.”

We look around.

Hundreds, no thousands of boats are burned from the scorch of the sun.

The earth is burning around us.

“The end”—he pulls me harder against his golden armor—“is always near. And to prevent that, I’ll sacrifice you.”

“Why me?”

“Because…” He leans in and kisses my ear then tugs it with his teeth. “…of what you are.”

“And what am I?”

“An abomination,” he finishes.

I jerk awake in my bed. The fire’s blazing in my room. I’m still shivering, and the cat’s completely out next to me.

What the hell was that?

A dream?

Reality?

He said he was Ra. Maybe it’s all a bad dream. That’s like saying you’re a Titan, or the Titan of old. I mean come on.

Did that all really happen?

I look at my wrists and see bruises. I’m actually sad that I don’t see the marks of the hieroglyphics.

What?

There is no way.

I stumble out of bed, suddenly dying of thirst, but my legs don’t hold me, and I slump to the hard floor. The ringing of a small bell breaks the silence.

I slowly kneel, eyes trained on the door, before slowly bringing my attention to my right foot, where a small black and red string is wrapped around my ankle and dangling off it…

A bell.

My throat goes dry. I’m afraid to touch the bell, so I reach around the string and attempt to untie it.

But nothing works.

I tug the string, hoping to loosen it. Again, nothing happens.

“This is ridiculous.” The bell moves with each step I take to the bathroom, the sound is a light jingle that reminds me of Christmas—a holiday I despise because everyone always appears so happy and I’m always so lonely.

I shake the dark thoughts away and stomp my foot only to have the bell bang against my skin. I know I have scissors or at least nail clippers packed with my makeup.

After a few minutes of tirelessly searching, I find the scissors next to some cotton swabs and jerk them out of the black bag.

Fear washes over me when I lift my foot to the sink. I know it’s stupid. This isn’t real. This is just a normal vacation. I swear I remind myself that at least a dozen times before taking a deep breath and snip the anklet off. It was all a dream, right? Cyrus saying he was going to kill me, Cyrus claiming to be a god. Then again, how did I get into bed? All I remember is walking back to the house and Cyrus taking me to the warehouse.

Did we kiss?

I touch my lips with my free hand and look down as the anklet falls to the floor with one last annoying jingle.

“That was weird,” I say to myself as Bast looks over at me from the bed. “Do you know how I got to bed last night?” Wow, I really must be losing it if I’m talking to a cat and asking him questions he can’t even answer.”

He meows at me, then stretches. His meows and pats at the blankets before he does a slow circle on the bed and sits.

He’s so ugly—naked.

I take a step toward him and freeze as the sound of a bell rings again.

Hands shaking, I look down at my right foot and stumble backwards into the wall. The anklet’s back, like it somehow attached itself to me even after being broken.

Am I dreaming?

Is this a prank?

“Hello?” I call out. “Anyone in here?”

Bast tilts his head at me like I’m the crazy one. He jumps off the bed and roams around like a little soldier searching for a stowaway.

I never thought I’d be hoping that someone was watching me sleep, but the cat comes back and sits at my feet as if he hasn’t found anything.

And I’m still thirsty.

I want to blame Cyrus and the weird dream about the boat. He’s messing with my head.

What the hell happened yesterday?

I reach for my phone on the nightstand and notice I have a text.

Apep Kaos

You alive?

I type back right away.

Me

Sorry, I must have crashed after accidentally falling into the water last night. I need to tell Daggon and Kratos “thank you”.

Apep Kaos

Kratos already filled me in. Glad you’re okay. The water does tend to take a lot out of people. Don’t worry about it, just take it easy this morning.

I smile at the text.

Me

Thank you for being so kind.

Apep Kaos

Well, you’re new, it’s my job to be welcoming. I’ll stop by with some fresh food for your lunch later. Still researching Jake’s latest whereabouts, but I feel we are getting closer, hang in there.

Tears fill my eyes. At least Apep’s normal and actually treating me like a human and not running around kissing me or claiming to be a god.

Me

Thank you. Seriously.

He sends me an emoji back of a smiley face with a halo. I respond with a heart and throw myself onto the bed. “Ughhhh.”

The jingle from the anklet fills the tense quiet room like a ticking time bomb. I’m almost afraid to move. The ringing of the bell isn’t normal, it resonates weird, as if it echoes across a large sea, through the forests, and down Puget Sound; it’s not a normal bell. And if I was braver, I’d probably go downstairs, march right up to Cyrus and demand an explanation but right now I’m barely surviving trying to figure out the last twelve hours of my life.

Nothing makes sense anymore and I’ve only been here a few days.

Bast jumps up next to my head and sniffs my hair, then starts licking my arm.

Why does my skin feel so dry?

My stomach chooses that perfect moment to growl. I don’t know Cyrus’s morning routine. Every day has had its own nightmares and surprises, but maybe I’ll get lucky and he won’t be in the kitchen first thing. I don’t think I can deal with more dreams and revelations.

I put on a pair of flip flops, a sweatshirt, and keep my sweatpants on. Then I open my bedroom door. Like a kid sneaking out, I look up and down the hall. The coast is clear. I quickly make my way from the guest house down the path and into the kitchen then come to a screeching halt.

Cyrus is in front of the fridge, completely shirtless and in nothing but black silk pajama pants.

He looks like the god he claimed to be in my dream standing in front of a freaking microwave pulling out a mug. I give my head a shake. I’m definitely losing it and reading into the stories and myths way too much. Plus, other than the bell on my ankle, everything is normal this morning, right? No water, no gods, no monsters, no fire lining the water and creating a bridge. Hah, that was a stretch of the imagination even for me.

“You were tired,” he says, all nonchalant and without turning around.

“Yeah, I had a rough night’s sleep,” I snap, maybe saying it in a way that sounds disrespectful but at this point, I’m done. “I had some nightmare about a tiny man claiming to be a god.”

He hits his coffee mug against the counter, spilling half his cup before righting it. He cleans up the mess then leans against the counter; muscles flex in his biceps as he grips the granite.

It’s been three days, and I feel like someone ran me over with a truck and asked me to say “thank you” afterwards. I hold my head between my hands and try to focus while Cyrus drinks his coffee and goes back to being calm. Maybe if I don’t make eye contact, I’ll be able to focus on something other than his muscles.

“I see you got your gift.” He turns and looks down at my right ankle even though I have sweats on I swear he can see through them, to the bell. “Has a nice little ring to it.”

I glare. “It’s creepy that you put this on me last night. I’m assuming you brought me to bed, right?”

“You passed out.” He shrugs and takes another slow sip of coffee. “I figured you’d rather sleep in bed than on the sacrificial slab downstairs.”

“Sacrificial slab, why does it seem normal that you’d own something like that?”

“I like history.” He grins. “And I didn’t put the jewelry on you, nor can I take it off. Then again, you probably already know that.”

My temper begins to rise, I wouldn’t normally yell at my host, but all things considered, I think I deserve a free pass. “Take it off.”

He starts lowering his pajama pants.

I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my tongue to keep from screaming. “I mean the anklet.”

“I already told you. I can’t. It belongs to you, and it won’t leave until…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. I lock eyes with him. “The end.”

“Of the world?”

He laughs. “That’s dramatic. No, your end.”

The panicky feeling returns as do the rest of the scenes from my “dream.”

“So, I have this until I die?” I shriek.

He shrugs. “It won’t be long.”

“Can you stop for a minute? Just stop saying cryptic things like that and pretending that you’re some ancient deity. You need a therapist, seriously.”

His gaze turns to me. “You can pretend all you want, but you’re mine now, aren’t you? And yet you ignore it, the most primal thing.”

“And what’s that?” I ignore his tone, hands shaking while I pour a cup of coffee.

He walks over to me.

I gulp and try not to look like I’m nervous as I pour into my plain white mug.

He stands behind me.

I can feel his warmth, and I want so badly to lean back into him, to let him embrace me as if it’s going to be any sort of comfort from someone so violently cruel, even in my dreams.

Nothing makes sense.

I clear my throat and take a sip of coffee. “I think I’ll just work in the warehouse today for a few hours, unless you needed something?”

“Need.” He laughs. “What a funny word. How’s the memory? Better yet, how were your dreams again? Care to recite them to me?”

I frown and stare into my coffee. Do I admit it? Or pretend not to have dreams, feelings, thoughts, emotions? I feel like a kid who closes her eyes and imagines that things in front of her don’t exist. But I have no other choice.

“More like dark nightmares,” I snap. “I think I might go see Dag later and ask about my brother. Apep might stop by later too. He’s been super helpful and also not creepy and rude like some people.”

Behind me, Cyrus freezes; it’s almost like I can feel the heat from his body evaporate into thin air. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” I turn and stare up at him, attempting not to shake.

His face is completely blank of any and every emotion. He simply stares down at me. “You know nothing.”

“All I know is I’m here to find my brother, so I’m going to ignore everything and do it. Now, if you’re done with your weird psychotic ramblings, I’ll just be going.”

His face slowly transforms, a small smile forms on his lips, the same lips I can’t stop staring at no matter how hard I try.

Again, he’s messing with my head.

He’s not Ra.

None of what he said is real. It was a nightmare.

And that anklet’s some sort of weird trick from a magic shop. Just an anklet that knows how to reattach itself to its owner.

There’s always an explanation, right?

Logic always wins.

I force a smile I really don’t feel. “Apep found traces of him, and like I said he’s been really helpful so I’m waiting on more information, but the good news is he’s alive.”

“Missing off the coast of Washington. How interesting.” His eyes search mine like he’s trying to read me like a book. “I wonder…” He leans in. “…where most people go, when they’re missing.”

“Let me guess,” I say in annoyance. “The mountains?”

He taps me on the nose and smirks. “Not as dumb as she looks.”

“Not as hot as he thinks.” I glare.

He does a double take then bursts out laughing. “Yup, you’re definitely different.”

“Different, good.” I lift my chin. “I’m going to go work.”

Cyrus laughs. “If that’s what you want to call it. Oh, by the way…” He turns around, his eyes impossible to read. “I have something for you before you go to the warehouse.”

My throat’s so dry despite the fact that I’m drinking coffee, and I have no choice but to follow him, the bell ringing with each step.

How has this gotten so crazy in the last few days? And turned into something so psychotic it feels like I’ve taken drugs?

I set down my mug, hands shaking, and follow his massive steps out of the house and toward the giant tree in the yard.

Rat runs toward me, scurrying around Cyrus and jumping on my leg.

“Hey, bud.” I smile for the first time that morning.

Rat does a few circles and then looks over at Cyrus, and I swear the little dude glares.

I laugh but sober instantly.

Cyrus’s hand goes to the tree, his palm presses against it. The normally light bark goes dark and then lights up like Christmas.

What is with me and Christmas today?

Leaves start to fall from the tree, blanketing us in a weird spring silence.

It feels like a funeral.

The air tastes stale, like death.

Cyrus looks over at me and grins. “It’s good to be reminded what you are, and why you are.” He digs his pointer finger into the tree and makes a tally mark, then another, and another.

Until he’s at the number four.

“Five,” he says, “will be tomorrow, then six, seven. I’m sure you know how to count. Do you want to ask me?”

“Ask you what?”

“How many tally marks until the last drop of blood leaves your body? Until your sacrifice is made?”

“You aren’t a god.”

Just a serial killer.

And I’m just the young guest nobody will believe, without family, relying on the man in front of me and one I barely know to help restore what’s been lost.

He laughs, his eyes suddenly flash blue then gold. “Oh princess, I am the god, and you’re mine, you want to find your brother? You want to survive this? You’ll do everything I say and spend the days like you have been.”

Suddenly he’s in front of me, grabbing me by the hair and shoving me against the tree. “Every night, you’ll be mine. That’s the cost. Your blood. Your life. Your body. Your soul. And maybe, I’ll dive down into the depths of this tree and save him.”

Tears burn my eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“Daggon could tell you, maybe even Enki, but really it’s best that it comes from me.” His mouth finds my neck, lips inch up my skin until they caress my ear. “Everything must be sacrificed. I still feel him, his presence, his pulse, but if you don’t give yourself over, then it might disappear.”

I try to shove him.

He doesn’t move.

“What the hell!” I yell. “I’m a person! This is illegal, and you belong in prison!”

He grins, forcefully gripping my chin with his right hand. “It’s good to get reminded of why I do this, of all the reasons I hate it and am going to see it through. You’ll be the last. Count yourself blessed, lucky, whatever you want to call it. The end is coming, and it’s going to be because of you. Don’t worry, though, it’s more fun in the dark. The light is full of lies, after all.” He shoves away from me. “Go read. And remember that it’s a kindness I’m letting you learn so much before the end, think of it as a thank you, I can’t wait to hear ‘Thank You’ fall from those swollen lips. Maybe I’ll reward you again for being so thankful for my kindness.”

I want to kick him.

He winks at me and then looks away again like he feels guilty, the sea roars behind him like it’s pissed.

I feel the same.

Wild. Angry. Unsettled.

“Run along,” Cyrus says.

Rat throws one of his nuts at Cyrus’s shoe.

Cyrus picks it up, looks at Rat, and pops it in his mouth. “Generous.”

Rat squeals and runs off, leaving me on my own.

Staring at a man I know I can’t escape. He was right. Where would I go? And who would believe me anyway?

Ra was one of the most powerful gods in Egyptian mythology.

Impossible.

I don’t have any choice. I can run, but I bet he’d find me.

I have next to no money, thanks to school and how expensive life is. And the police department seems to be the type that’s most likely owned by Cyrus in the first place.

And now Cyrus is claiming to know where Jake is.

I need to think.

I turn on my heels, hating the sound of the bell as it rings with each step I take back toward the warehouse.

“They always sound different,” he calls after me. “Depending on who wears them. Yours screams of sadness and a fate you can’t escape.”

“Bells don’t talk.” I take another step.

His chuckle is infuriating. “I beg to differ. Enjoy your research, Cleo.”

I say nothing and walk off, the sound of my damn bell my only company as I make my way through the dark hallways.