Gryphon and His Thief (21 page)

When nothing happened, he tried again, using
ancient words spoken first in Greek then in Latin. "
Ego sum te
peto et videre queto.
" He'd chant the summons in every language
until it worked. "I seek you and demand to see you." The howling
wind increased around them, but the weather beyond the doorway
remained tranquil. Then in the distance, he spotted a long boat
made of fine wood and etched with symbols. Possibly wards to keep
the newly dead from escaping once they stepped into the boat… Or
perhaps, they were to prevent the damned in the river from
capsizing the craft. Whichever the case, the symbols glowed with
magic.

Two figures stood inside the boat, one
holding a pole and guiding it toward the portal's entrance, and the
other stood with his hands clasped as if in prayer.

"It is Charon," Isa breathed and her lips
curved. "He brings Spiro with him. Do you not see, Darrien?"

Darrien could understand her reverence toward
Charon. One did not have an audience with the ferryman unless he
came to ferry your soul to the underworld. His gaze shifted to
Spiro. He was garbed in dark robes that were tattered and worn in
places, nothing like he would have donned in life. Darrien couldn't
help but wonder if the clothing depicted his placement in the
underworld. Not favored, he would imagine.

Charon frowned, his lips thin as they pursed
together, indicating his displeasure at being summoned, and more so
when he realized Darrien held a stone with powers meant for a
necromancer. Obviously, the ferryman didn't look kindly on death
charmers. They would make his life difficult if they summoned the
dead back to the living— even if it were for only a few minutes. It
would make Charon's job that much more troublesome.

Once the boat reached the door's edge, Charon
tethered the boat to a pillar to keep the craft in place for this
impromptu meeting. "Who summons the soul of Spiro?" Charon asked.
The burdens of his duties of centuries past were deeply etched into
his weathered skin. His robes of gray swirled around him in the
gentle wind on his side of the realm, teasing both his hair and
long beard. He may ask who summoned him, but the request proved a
formality, since his gaze bore into Darrien.

"I do, ferryman." He bowed in respect to the
ancient being.

"Step forward then, but do not cross the
threshold, Darrien of the Gryphon tribe of Andros," he warned.
"Your soul teeters between life and death and I cannot guarantee
the souls of the underworld will not claim you as one of their own
out of spite."

He stared at the river where the wrathful
were punished, being drowned in the muddy waters for all eternity.
Their skin was drained of color, gray and lifeless, but they
withered and moaned as they fought among themselves. He shivered at
the thought of joining their fate.

He turned to Calli. Her green eyes were huge
with fatigue, and he realized how this night had taken its toll on
her. Yet, her strength washed over to him and he offered her his
hand. He wanted her at his side and away from Isa. Calli's hand
felt so small and delicate in his. He raised her hand to his lips
and he brushed a kiss across her knuckles before they both took a
few cautious steps closer to the portal, making sure to keep their
feet planted in the realm of the living.

Standing this close to the doorway, the wind
ceased to plague them, as if they'd stepped into the eye of the
storm, where the world appeared calm, but their presence seemed to
aggravate the souls and their filmy, bluish-colored eyes glazed
with death, followed their every move. Their moans and outstretched
hands a plea for help. Only there was no comfort for the
damned.

A movement in his peripheral vision told him
Isa had joined them, but he kept his eyes focused on Spiro. The
man's gaze blazed a trail from Darrien's face to his snakeskin
boots then back up again, and his contempt blasted through, despite
the threshold separating them. It appeared even in death his hatred
hadn't lessened, but had thrived.

"If you wish to speak to me about the curse,
you waste your time, Darrien," Spiro said. "I have no wish to speak
to you. When Hecate confronted me, I chose death over releasing
your soul. I suffer for my sins, but I rejoice that you have
suffered more."

Darrien didn't blame Spiro for lashing out at
him. The man had trusted him with his beloved daughter, a treasure
he could never replace, and Darrien felt the loss just as deeply.
He blamed himself for her death as much as Isa was at fault. He
should have recognized Isa's jealousy and stopped her, but he'd
been so in love he missed the warning signs. "I have accepted my
fate gladly, Spiro," he told him and meant it.

Calli's presence gave him strength to face
Spiro, but he had to do this next part alone. He gave her hand a
quick squeeze before he let her go. He then chanced another step
closer to the portal.

His admission and acceptance of the
punishment Spiro dealt him seemed to surprise the man, and he lost
some of his haughtiness. He pursed his lips as if he fought to
remain steadfast in his oath not to hear him out, but in the end
his curiosity prompted him to change his mind. "Go on then," Spiro
demanded. "Say what you must so I may return to the land of the
dead." He folded his arms across his chest.

"To the point, then. I bring to you the one
responsible for Callista's death," Darrien announced.

"What are you doing?" Isa's gaze riveted to
him and her voice hitched in alarm. She took a step back as if to
flee, but he was quicker and grabbed her upper arm. "Unhand me."
She struggled to be free, but he would not allow her to escape.
When her thugs moved forward to help, he warned them away with a
quick look, his eyes blazing like fire. "Come closer and you'll
suffer her fate as well."

Bert glanced at the door to the underworld
with the black river and the souls crying out for help, and he made
the decision for himself and his comrades. "Let's go. We didn't
sign up for this." They backed away, before turning on their heels
at a full run to put as much distance between them and the archway
as possible.

"Come back, you fools," Isa called after
them, but a second later, he heard the slam of car doors and the
screeching of tires. Her men had abandoned her. So much for
loyalty.

Spiro's nostrils flared as he leveled his
gaze on Isa. "How did you avoid my wrath?" he asked her. "You
murdered my daughter and I sent my hoplites armed with weapons.
They were to destroy all your kind? How is it you still stand in
the land of the living?"

"You wronged my tribe and me as well." Isa's
eyes glowed gold as she tried to shift, but couldn't seem to
complete the act. Perhaps being too close to the doorway between
worlds prevented her. Darrien suspected as much. He could feel the
beast inside of him, stirring, but lethargic as if drugged. The
portal required energy and it interfered with the magic of a
shifter's change.

Isa tried again to break free from his hold,
but he wouldn't allow her to escape. He increased his grip on her.
She winced and threw him a lethal glare filled with bitterness.

"You will face Spiro," he told her. "No more
running." All at once, she stopped struggling, but he didn't trust
how easily she stilled her attempts to flee.

She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes on
Spiro. "Callista always hated me. It is no wonder her spirit
claimed I was the one at fault," she said with a hard cold voice,
but her next words were spoken as if the memory proved too painful
to recall. "That day…I came calling, only to speak to Darrien, but
he was not at home. Callista invited me in with the pretense that
she wanted us to be friends, but in truth she accused me of trying
to steal Darrien away. It simply was not true." She paused for a
theatrical affect before continuing her tale. "We had words and
truly I tried to leave, but she would not allow it. She came after
me with a dagger." She took a ragged breath and closed her
eyes.

Darrien lifted his brows in astonishment when
a single tear slid down her cheek.

"Her death was but an accident," she
murmured. Her tear filled eyes opened and she brushed her hand over
her face. "I had to defend myself." She sniffled and her hand fell
to her chest, right where her heart lay beneath. Indeed, she did
look contrite over the tragic event.

"O.M.G!" Calli said, drawing everyone's
attention. "You aren't going to believe that load of crap?" She
pointed to Isa. "She's about as innocent as a…a…fox in a chicken
coop."

"Silence." Charon's voice boomed. "Do not
speak out of turn."

"Truly, we should listen to her," Darrien
said. "She is Callista reincarnated."

Spiro shifted his weight in the boat, taking
steps closer and nearly capsizing them, but Charon was quick with
his pole and steadied the craft. "Do not move, Spiro. Do you wish
to tumble us into the river? Rest assured, only one of us will
survive such a dunking," he said the last with meaning.

Spiro stilled his movements, but his eyes did
not leave Calli. "It is you, my daughter." From his side of the
portal, he would be able to see her soul as clearly as if she wore
it upon her sleeve.

"It does not matter," Charon said. "A
reincarnated soul does not recall his or her past life with
accuracy. The soul is reborn to have a fresh start, to live and
love again. A past life would only alter the destiny." He pinned
his gaze on Calli. "Am I correct? Do you remember the altercation
with Isa?"

"Uh…no, but—"

Charon held up his hand to halt her words.
"Say no more."

"She may not remember," Darrien began, "but
Charon, you can tell if Isa speaks the truth or not. I pray you
will use your gift and see for yourself what lies Isa has spun this
night." He would have this settled. He would have Callista's death
finally avenged and justice served for his tribes' annihilation. He
had heard the stories about the souls crossing over to the other
side and how they had to literally bare their souls so Charon could
deliver them to their respected level of Hades they deserved. He
prayed there had been some truth to it and the ferryman would know
of Isa's deceit.

Charon tilted his head as he peered at Isa,
his eyes hard and inscrutable. He lifted the pole, pulling it out
of the river before he reached across the veil and offered it to
Isa. "You will grip the end where the water still shimmers. Then
plead your innocence and let me see it shine from your eyes, Isa
from the Gryphon clans of Andros."

Isa threw Darrien a murderous look.

"Do what he asks," Darrien goaded her. "If
you're innocent, then you have nothing to fear."

Her nostrils flared, but she turned away and
stepped forward to clasp the end of the pole. The water glistened
and slithered like a snake. It slid around her hand, fitting it
like a glove and molding it to the pole, making it impossible for
her to let go.

She took a deep breath then spoke loud and
clear, "I defend my honor. I am not responsible for Callista's
death. I—" Isa words choked in her throat and she grabbed her
throat with her free hand as water poured from her mouth.

Darrien frowned and took a step toward her,
but Charon held up his hand. "Do not interfere," he warned.

Isa coughed until she could once again draw a
breath. Her eyes bulged wide and she didn't appear as confident as
she had a moment ago.

"Every time you do not tell the truth,"
Charon said and waited for Isa to clear her throat once more. "You
will choke on the water from the river, as the damned choke on the
foul liquid for eternity."

For the first time, Darrien witnessed real
fear in Isa's gaze. She wouldn't be able to spin a tale in her
favor when Charon's gaze bore down on her in such a way. He
controlled the water from the Styx, and he commanded it to sense if
she spoke the truth or not. Drowning where she stood, obviously
didn't appeal to her.

She stammered as she tried to think of
something that would save her life. "Callista was not one of us,"
she whined. "She was not a Gryphon. She couldn't be of our tribe.
I..." She stood straight and pursed her lips, realizing no matter
what she said now, it would only condemn her further.

Darrien almost felt sorry for her…almost.
She'd been blinded by hatred and prejudice all her life, and with
each passing year it had blackened her soul until no pure light
could seep through. He glanced at Spiro. "Isa threatens Callista
again in this time and place where her soul has found a new life."
He turned toward Calli and motioned for her to step forward, hoping
she still trusted him. When he met her eyes, he witnessed a mixture
of tenderness and determination within those green depths. How he
loved his little thief. She never doubted him and her sure steps
brought her to his side, trusting him as she had done when she
lived her life as Callista.

Spiro's features softened as he gazed upon
his daughter. "
Callista.
" His voice was a hoarse
whisper.

Calli remained quiet beside Darrien, pressing
closer to his side. She trusted him and would allow Spiro his
moment, even if she didn't wholeheartedly believe she was this
man's daughter reincarnated.

Spiro leveled his gaze on Isa then, his eyes
narrowing to slits. His whole demeanor changed as he stared at his
daughter's murderer. "I demand justice be served for the death of
my daughter."

"No, please, do not do this," Isa pleaded
with Darrien. Terror of what awaited her shone bright in her eyes.
She reached for him, but he would not take her hand. "I found the
stone for you," she scrambled for words to save her life. "I…I
found Callista and sent her to the museum. You would have never
found her otherwise."

All she claimed was true, but it didn't
change the fact that Isa was a threat he could ill afford if he
were to keep Calli safe.