TARNISHED (Book 5.5, The Caged Series (Novella)) (8 page)

He had taken me there that night to see if he still had control over me. Why else would he have had a magical being there, ready to aid him at will? Ares was sending me a message: obey him or else.

While he buried me far below his feet, I decided I would send him one in return―if I ever got out.

That was the turning point. The point in time when I vowed to make sure that everything he had built crumbled around him. The thought continued to make me smile even as dirt coated my face, filling my mouth and nose as I laughed.

I would see that he paid for it all.

* * *

Later on, there was much debate about exactly how long I'd been underground, but, in the end, it mattered not. I spent my time there wisely. Thinking. Strategizing. Scheming. The one thing that Ares and I both had was time. I would bide mine until the perfect moment to start a coup. Once I had the brothers all turned against him, even the Elders, I would take everything he loved away from him. He was right about one thing: there were fates far worse than death. Eternal emptiness was one. Ares was nothing without his power―even the little that he had remaining. Taking that from him was better than taking his life, which was the one thing I couldn't do.

Not because I didn't wish to.

The Prodigal Son Returns

Their faces were empty as I walked into the great hall of Ares' domain, interrupting a meeting with the Elders―an interesting menagerie of lackeys. Ares had rounded up what was left of his warring demi-gods to create a senate of sorts. Another lot of useless followers whom I assumed I would need to answer to on some level or another. Though Ares loved his dictatorship, he claimed to want a body of leaders to help keep some semblance of order in light of my not-so-recent dissension. I saw right through his act of democracy. They were bodyguards. That meant he had something to fear, which only made me question what had occurred in my absence.

I had only to wait a short time before those answers would come to me, at which point I wished they hadn't.

After the shock of my arrival wore off, the brothers scattered. Not a single one approached me; none seemed at all interested in my whereabouts or re-emergence. Their utter disregard led me to only one conceivable conclusion: Ares had been up to something during my incapacitation, and I needed to know precisely what that was. The magic that held me under had been lifted―a strategic maneuver, no doubt. Strategic for what, I could not be certain. Not yet.

I slipped out after the others, following one of them in the shadows until he was safely to his home. Once I knew he was alone, I walked through the door.

“Jaysen,” I called, closing the door tightly behind me. He spun around with a knife in hand. Once he realized who I was, he lowered it, but never put it down.

“Aniketos,” he replied, his voice unsure. Jaysen had always been one of the least brutal of the brothers. His nature was kinder than most, which struck me as odd given the temperament of his older brother. “You look...
well.”

“
As do you, brother. I've come here for something... I need information about what's been happening.”

He sighed, looking suddenly weary.

“You've made quite a mess...,” he started, seeming to choose his words carefully as though he'd been mentored in what he could or could not say.

“At least I look the part,” I said wryly, my eyes dramatically scanning my rather soiled and rugged appearance.

“Why did you do it, Aniketos?
How
could you do it?”

“Do what, Jaysen? What is it that you think I did?”

His mouth formed a tight line as his brow furrowed into a look of disapproval.

“I have followed you into many a battle. I have seen your desire of blood, but even I did not want to believe Ares when he told us of your actions.”

My mind reeled, attempting to fill in the gaping holes in his story. When the gaps still abounded after a few moments of thought, I pressed him further for the details I needed.

“Jaysen, I do not know what you have been told, but I can assure you, you have been misinformed. Egregiously. I was not put underground for what I did. I was put underground for what I would not do.”

For a second, his face softened as if he wanted to believe me. But before he allowed himself that chance, something flashed through his mind as well as across his face, and he stiffened from the heinous nature of what he remembered.

“I saw the body, Aniketos. You cannot lie your way out of this.”

My hackles raised at his words. In my life I had been many things to many people, but a liar I was not.

“Choose your words carefully, brother. Infinite patience I have not, and I am growing weary. I have never lied to you, nor am I lying to you now.”

Instinctively, his chest rose and his gaze hardened. Soft or not, he was still a warrior, and, though challenging me would mean his death, he would not shrink away from it. I had always respected him for that, even if his gentle demeanor was off-putting to my near soulless side.

“He showed us the body. He called a meeting the night you disappeared and brought it forth.”

“And what did you see, exactly?”

“A clean stab wound to the abdomen of the mother.”

“That was not my fault...”

“Truly, Aniketos, this is lower than any of the depraved things I've seen you do through the years. Are you telling me she just fell upon your sword?”

“Yes. That is essentially what happened.”

“She was human!” he cried, pounding his fist against the wooden table. “She was no threat to the balance and you know it.” His look rapidly grew from disgust to hatred. “He was right to put you underground, though permanently may have been a better option. Even now, when you know you're caught, you not only deny it but pretend as though you had no fault in the matter. So, please tell me then how a newborn child fell upon your drawn weapon, for this is a story that surely can't disappoint.”

I froze.

“
Child...
?”

“Do not insult me any further, despite my previous provocation. I don't wish to hear whatever lie you have conjured up to cover this injustice. You killed your own flesh and blood...your own daughter, and for what? To cover up your indiscretion? So that you could beat Sophie to it? I wish there was a way to send you straight to Hades. His punishment for you would be brutal and eternal. That is precisely what you deserve.”

“On my honor, I did not kill that child, Jaysen―”

“Honor?” he scoffed in question, unable to hide his incredulity. “You know nothing of that word...”

“Listen to me,” I demanded, thrusting my face into his. “Ares buried me because I would not do his bidding. She was not mine; she was
his.
I killed her mother, that I cannot deny, though I had not wanted that to happen. But I could not kill her baby. Ares' madness has progressed to a level that even I had not thought possible.” He said nothing, only looked at me as though some small part of his mind was revolting, entertaining the words I spoke. In order to capitalize on the moment, I continued on. “Think about this, Jaysen. You are far younger than I and do not know about Eos, Ares' daughter. He forbade us all from speaking about her, even years after she was gone, but I still remember the story.

“Ares became unhinged following the news of her demise and delivery of her body. He was fraught with grief. Brothers used to describe how he lay across her rotting corpse, ranting about how there would never be another as great as she, so there would never be another at all. Do you understand what I am telling you, Jaysen? In his grief-stricken madness, he professed that there would never be another female born of him again because she would only tarnish the memory of his beloved Eos. Nobody, present at that time or otherwise, thought that there was truth behind his words, only pain and suffering. To my knowledge, there have never been any females born of him since Eos. And if there were, who do you think he would have charged with their disposal?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment as a silence grew between us before he broke it with a single question.

“If you did not do it, and Ares' life is tied to the fate of anyone he harms, then who killed that child?”

“That is precisely what I am going to find out,” I told him. I felt the void in me grow as my light faded away to the darkness still left deep inside me. I wanted revenge.

“How will you do that?”

I hesitated only slightly, my desire to spill blood clouding my conscious mind.

“Who has been in charge in my absence?”

He paled instantly.

“Jerzyr has been in command of us in the field...”

“Then I think it is time that I speak with your brother.”

The Depraved

Jaysen followed behind me as we approached Jerzyr's home, not far from where his own stood. His words of defense came fast and furious with every step, but they never carried into my consciousness. I cared not. All I wanted was to face the man who had done what even I would not do. A visceral knowledge that he had slain the child overcame me, and with it a sense of clarity. He had always been nearly as savage as I, his need for battle deep enough to rival my own, but I had not thought even he was depraved enough to kill on demand without explanation or cause―to kill one of his own. It wasn't a question of whether or not he had at that point; my mind was made up.

It was, however, a question of why.

Without knocking, I stormed through the entrance to his home, catching him as he dressed. His expression was masked; a veteran of war games, it was what I expected to see.

“So tell me Jerzyr, should I be concerned that you too have turned on me entirely or are you truly so amoral that you killed that newborn just because Ares required it of you?”

“Aniketos,” he replied, feigning boredom. “You are not yourself yet. You must eat. Rest. We can discuss this later. It seems as though your recollection of events is unclear.”

“My recollection could not be more pristine, Jerzyr. I did not come here to debate your involvement in this. That is etched in stone as far as my thoughts are concerned. All I require is the motive behind it.”

“And I again tell you, brother, that there can be no motive for an act that I did not commit.” He eyed me carefully, trying to assess me from across the room. Jerzyr was cunning, smart, and bred to be one of the PC's most lethal―second to me, of course. He would not easily give me the information I wanted, nor would he confirm my suspicions. He knew that I knew, but that meant nothing at all. What I lacked was proof, and he knew that as well. I had been punished for the crime already, and the minds of the brothers had been poisoned by Ares' unchallenged words regarding the matter. Jaysen had been willing to hear me out only because he had long been the voice of reason, a trait his genetic brother lacked entirely. Jerzyr was all action whereas Jaysen relied heavily on thought and weighing one's actions before committing them. Ares had never kept his disappointment quiet when comparing Jerzyr and Jaysen, one being a prized pupil, the other an epic disappointment. Fortunately for Jaysen, he never seemed to care much about it. He did his job and found solace in that.

“Tell me something, Aniketos. What did you plan to do with me if I had admitted to your alleged crime? Who would you turn me in to? If we were to speak in hypotheticals, it's clear that if I had killed the infant, I would have been the one punished for it. Ares knows no favorite other than you. He is loath to have you far away, his prized possession. What could I possibly gain by doing what you've accused me of?”

“It seems as though you've stepped into my place nicely in my absence, or so I am told, Jerzyr. Is it so hard to imagine that you've longed for the opportunity? You're not a fan of my newfound duality. Perhaps you think you could do my job far more efficiently than I?”

“Of that there is no doubt,” he retorted slyly, not even hesitating. There had been a time when to do so would have meant death. I was losing control of those around me, the ones I was charged with leading. I needed to get a hold of the situation before it spiraled even further out of control. Ares had done much damage in my absence, and I could hardly afford any more.

“So that is where we stand?” I asked.

“I stand for the power of the PC and the job it was charged with. Whatever task that needs to be done, unsavory though it may seem, I will do it.”

“To maintain the balance?” I baited, certain that what he'd done had nothing to do with that. He’d smelled opportunity. That was his motive.

“To maintain the balance,” he repeated, though the evil glint in his eye spoke to the contrary. His statement had been as much an admission of guilt as I would ever get from him, but it was also a challenge. He wanted to know where my allegiance lay.

“We are through here tonight,” I informed him, turning to leave. “But we are not through with this. I will get my answers, Jerzyr, with or without your help. There are others sources from which I can acquire them.”