Chapter 45: Network

Apollo’s ship arrived after dark, which suited Synto just fine. With his latest Divinity, the night felt more comfortable. He stood at the bow of the ship as they came into port. The ship’s crew knew he was there, though they would be hard pressed to point him out if they weren’t specifically looking for him. The Wreath of Darkness was a fine ability, and worked better the darker it was.

“How is your face, father?” Mykos asked from behind. Out of all the people on board, he was the only one with reason to search for him. “Does it still hurt?”

Synto turned his newly scarred face to his son. Adriana’s infernal burning sap had done its job well. Even with the fourth level of ascension speeding his healing, the continued presence of the Smoldersap burned and left his face raw and burned after. All thanks to Apollo’s little punishment.

“No,” he said. “Just my pride. I’ll have a chance to heal it when I reach Demigod.” Just another four percent away, and he’d be back to more comfortable territory. One of Apollo’s Greater Divinities would no doubt do the trick, once they finished the job. If he didn’t take the True Divinity off Adriana’s corpse for himself.

Mykos nodded and shut up, and instead of speaking, he watched the lights of the city get closer. Hessiopolis was forever lit up, and the Sun Temple itself radiated light from its great sun window. It served as a beacon for sailors all around. It also felt like the island itself was watching them.

“What’s on your mind?” Synto asked without looking away from the city. Mykos’ desire to talk nagged at him, even when he stayed silent.

“Apollo,” said Mykos in a lowered voice. “He had no right to let you burn like that, and we shouldn’t have to be at his mercy at all.”

Synto chuckled. “This is nothing compared to what I’ve seen him do. This was a mild disagreement. Be lucky he likes me, and watch what you say. Haemar and Divinity buys the loyalty of his men, and he knows exactly when to be generous.”

Mykos grunted. He was silent for another couple of minutes, then said, “Are we sure we need him?”

“Yes, Mykos,” Synto said in a tone that said his patience was running out. “He has connections we don’t have. If he doesn’t know something, he knows someone who does. With his help, we’ll have a safe place to wait in Hessiopolis, and the resources needed to try again. I don’t think we’ll be getting many more attempts, so we need to make the next one count.”

“Adriana isn’t even on the island anymore,” Mykos complained. “She’s a day to the northwest, along with the Children of Stephanos.”

“Fantastic. That gives us time to insinuate ourselves quickly and quietly.” Synto put a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezed. “Let it go for now. When all is said and done, I’ll settle any remaining scores with Apollo and we’ll be on our way. If you don’t trust me to do as I say, there is little point in you working with me.”

That did the trick. Mykos stiffened, then nodded. “Apologies, father. I do trust you. You’ve led us this far.”

Good enough for now. The ship continued in to the secondary port, miles away from the rest of the city. They would walk or ride the rest of the way, entering from the east, where the poor and wretched lived off the scraps of everyone else. The further away from the temple, the rougher life got. The slums would give them cover, and even the poor parts of Hessiopolis were cleaner and safer than, say, Kalikos, far to the east.

Apollo joined them before too long. He inhaled deeply and sighed dramatically. “Of all the city states in the archipelago, this is the most insufferable. An entire island of people obsessed with safety and avoiding risk, begging for every last crumb they can get from their betters. I’ve longed to get my fingers in this pie, and finally, the time has come.”

Synto rolled his eyes. “Been practicing that speech?”

“Was it obvious?” Apollo shook his head, laughing to himself. The Demigod of greed was a handsome, charming man, and it made it easy to underestimate him. Especially when he pretended to not take himself seriously.

“Only to those with eyes and ears,” said Synto. “You got something for us, or are you just speaking to hear yourself talk?”

“Yeah,” said Mykos, “You going to sing for us next?”

The silence that followed was too loud by far.

“What,” said Apollo, “makes you think that you get to joke like that with me? Do you think we’re friends? Do you think you’re my equal?” His voice still sounded cheerful, which could go either way.

“This is a talk between old friends and real men,” Synto added. “Go below. Secure our stuff and wait for me. Quick, before I let him beat you.”

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Mykos looked between them, uncertainty in his eyes. He muttered a half-hearted apology and trudged off. Apollo waited until he was belowdeck to burst out laughing.

“Oh, but he does want so very badly to belong. Don’t need my Divinity to read that. How the hell have you tolerated him thus far? Before this, I couldn’t imagine you ever having a kid, or bringing him along.” Apollo shook his head in mock disappointment. “Who domesticated you?”

Synto rolled his eyes and leaned against the railing. “No one did. Time mellows us all out, does it not? Once upon a time, you would’ve led by boldness and aggression, instead of the dumb dandy act that you’ve got going.”

The Demigod shrugged. “There’s a funny thing you might not have ever realized about gaining power. When so many people are beneath you, it’s easy to let the little things go. Easy to be magnanimous, but I always keep score. Every slight, insult, and destroyed building. No reason I have to be unpleasant to them before I’m ready for my pound of flesh. But you? You’ve never feigned kindness or interest. What gives?”

It figured that Apollo wouldn’t be so easily distracted. Well, answering cost him nothing, so Synto obliged. “He’s powerful but stupid, and he’s desperate. If all it takes to secure his loyalty is holding my tongue and letting him believe I care, then it’s a small price to pay.”

Apollo shook his head once more. “We both know it won’t stay this way. For most of the damaged and the broken, there’s a hole inside that can never be filled. No matter how hard we try.” He was dead serious now, without even a glimmer of amusement. “He’ll want more. What are you prepared to give him?”

“An equal share of what you’ll end up owing me,” Synto replied. “This topic bores me. Tell me about your network in Hessiopolis and how we’re planning on getting our prize.”

“Well, a messenger sent word,” Apollo said, staring out onto the island. “Adriana’s already been welcomed into the temple, but there are rumors the Hierophant isn’t happy with her. If she behaves as I’ve seen and what you’ve said, she won’t be tolerated long. From there, the temple will act. And from there, we act.”

“Yes, because that’s been so simple so far,” Synto muttered. He hated how narrowly Adriana had escaped, three times now. The next time would be the last, for better or worse.

Apollo clapped his shoulder. “This time will be different. I have a few people in the temple, and they’re in very good positions for information. They’ll keep me tipped off and, when the time comes, make it possible to seal the deal. Including our rapid escape, and passage to Lord Orobaal. Wherein, we both get paid, and you can share your half with your bouncing baby boy.”

The ship continued on into the night, and it was only another half an hour before they were docked and clear to come on board the island. Apollo told Synto where to go, and then it was him and Mykos in a new city, with enough coin to keep them comfortable until they were needed.

“Why just us?” Mykos asked as they made their way past the docks and onto the well-worn dirt path on the way to their lodgings.

With the previous conversation in mind, Synto had half a mind to slap Mykos and bark for him to stop asking so many damned questions. However, he didn’t want to wake up with a slit throat. If he couldn’t beat him into submission, he could guide him better.

“There are a few reasons,” Synto said evenly. “The first is that he’s a melodramatic bitch, and doesn’t want us knowing where he’s staying. This is honestly smart of him, and standard practice when dealing with unsavory characters.”

“Like us,” Mykos chuckled.

Beyond the docks were gates, open at night. Apollo had paid for their entrance, and now they were past without a worry. The guards didn’t demand Mykos lower his hood, and they barely noticed Synto at all, save to wave him through.

“Like us. The other reason is because he likely has to meet with dozens of people to get his information up to date, and then even more time to report to Lord Orobaal. The Titan of Greed is more hands-on than most gods, and if he’s taken an interest in the situation, then that means Apollo will be under pressure. Shit rolls downhill, so we’ll be under pressure.”

The boy winced, and said, just loud enough to be heard, “I won’t let her escape again, father. I don’t even care about getting paid. I just want her dead, and to know that we killed her and sent her to the farthest reaches of hell.”

It was true, that desire burned brightly, like a beacon in the night amidst the scattered wants and needs of the people still up at that hour. Synto put his hand around Mykos’ shoulder and led them on. His eyes swept over every dark corner and crevice where an ambush could get them…or they could get someone else, if need be.

“Admirable, but always get paid. No matter what, personal satisfaction isn’t as important as advancing your goals. When they line up, that’s what we pursue.” It wasn’t often Synto had a chance to speak on his reasoning or his preferred way of doing it. Most people resisted, and he had no interest in explaining himself to hirelings.

Maybe it could be different with Mykos. Synto could use him, just as Mykos used him to pretend to have a real father.

The thought lingered, even after they found the town square Apollo had mentioned, and brought them down an alleyway down a residential street. The houses were small, and crammed together so tightly they resembled crooked teeth jutting out of an uneven smile. The fifth door on the left was theirs, and they needed time to rest, plan, and…maybe even chat.

“This is it?” Mykos scoffed as they entered. It was more barren than their safe house, but they wouldn’t spend nearly as much time there.

“Relax,” said Synto. “Tomorrow, we’ll explore town and change our look. We have Apollo’s haemar to spend, and we’ll get new clothes, some food, and see what trouble we can rustle up while waiting for his spies to deliver.”

Mykos lowered his hood. With the additional Maw Divinity, he looked almost normal now. Still pale, and with startling eyes, but he could maybe pass as just different. Especially if and when they got him more normal Divinity. Once he was a Demigod, it would be harder to turn into a monster.

“You want to go shopping with me?” Mykos asked, incredulously.

“Yes,” said Synto, and he realized it was true. “We’ll get situated, I’ll cut my hair and beard to avoid detection, and I’ll show you how I do things, and why. It’s past time you learn how to be more clever, cunning, and ruthless. How does that sound?”

His son beamed at him, and for the first time, Synto enjoyed it for a reason that wasn’t entirely practical.