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I held up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“No one ever does.” He shook his head and huffed out his frustration before taking a swig of his drink. “I hope you were not hoping for a relaxing evening tonight.”
I sighed and thoughts of a long bath disappeared. “Why? What has happened?”
“Your fathers have sent for you. They want you home to Tartarus. Now.”
Fury flooded me. Tartarus hadn’t been my home in a long time. “Now?”
“Now.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’ve already portaled twice today, and I’m injured. I’m not going anywhere. I need to recover my strength.”
He raised a brow. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
But curiosity prickled at the corners of my mind. “What do they want?”
“Apparently, they had a visitor, and they need to discuss it with you.” He raised an eyebrow. He was just as interested in my fathers’ guest.
I paused. “I assume—”
“It wasn’t your mother. That's the first question I asked too.”
No one visits the gods, and for them to request me after all this time … It had to be of grave importance. Swilling my drink around my mouth, I finally swallowed as I came to a decision. It wasn’t one I liked.
I growled, “I’ll go immediately.”
Creating another portal wouldn’t kill me, but it would make me far too vulnerable in front of the gods.
Darshaw sighed and filled up my glass with more blood. “Drink more and heal your open wounds. Don’t return tonight. Stay there and rest. Keep your guard up and negotiate.”
My lips curled up at his words of advice.
If my fathers were expecting the easy return of their prodigal son to solve their problems, they were in for a rude awakening. Despite coming at their behest, I wouldn’t be ruled by them.
I was not the boy they disowned any longer.
CHAPTER5
BAELEN
Ifinished my glass in one gulp, already feeling my wounds stitching together. Since I was so depleted of energy, pushing my magic to form a portal took longer and required more concentration.
As the portal completed in a swirl of blue, my power snapped back to place, causing stinging wrists, which I shook out with a grunt. I opened my eyes and nodded goodbye to my uncle before stepping through.
I arrived at the familiar stone corridors of my childhood, which were luxuriously decorated with paintings and portraits and illuminated by candles. Each flame flickered and danced as I passed on the way to the Great Hall, the door of which was another dramatic sight. A smaller version of the main entrance to the palace, it showed the power and the ego of the gods.
I wasn’t impressed and flung it open without knocking.
The occupants stopped speaking as I entered. My father, Riseir, the god of life, rose from his throne and sighed as he looked me over. “Why are you entering the sacred Great Hall covered in blood?”
“You asked for me.” I strode toward them, my feet padding softly on the marble floors, the dim candlelight just right for my eyes.
Charos, the god of death and my other father, growled, his black scars standing out on his pale skin as his face pulled into a snarl. It was a terrifying sight when I was a child. “You couldn’t bathe before seeing us, boy?”
As a chair appeared behind me, and I sat down with innocent wide eyes and bloody hands open. “I was told this was urgent.” I knew they hated it when I showed my akari side.
Charos grumbled something about Darshaw, but I didn’t pay him any mind.
