Chapter 52: Patience

If someone had told Synto that he’d have to wait nearly two months for a chance to get at Adriana, he would’ve honestly considered leaving. And yet, a month passed with Synto, Mykos, and Apollo in Hessiopolis without much to show for it. At least, not much compared to their eventual prize.

“And of course,” said Apollo in their safehouse, “here’s your week’s pay. Another good job, gentleman. May there be many more in the future.”

The three of them were crammed around Synto’s kitchen table. He’d shaved his head and beard, and now the only things memorable about his appearance were the burn on his left cheek, and sharp, cruel eyes. When they finished their job and he healed, then he’d go back to normal. For now, it gave him his own form of camouflage.

“And Adriana?” Mykos asked. He’d gone through his own changes. He and Synto had both gotten a little more Divinity. Not enough for new abilities, but enough to improve what they had. Both were so close to Demigod they could taste it, but waited until the job was finished and Apollo paid out Greater Divinities.

“The time is coming, my friends,” said Apollo as he stood up. “There is an event coming up in a few weeks. The equinox is when they are going to either empower her, or strap her down and siphon every last iota of power she has. The Hierophant still doesn’t like her, so it’s still up in the air. Either way, that will be when we strike.

“You two have shown a lot of patience under adversity, and I don’t forget such service. I hope that the pay you’ve received along the way, and the work, have proven that I am good for payment, just as I know you two are good for work.” Apollo smiled then, and Synto didn’t sense any deception.

“You really have mellowed out in your old age,” said Synto. “Be careful that you don’t go too soft. Someone might be tempted to usurp you.”

“And find that I’ve already planned for such a contingency,” he returned easily. “I’ll see you in a few days, with another job. Relax, have some fun, don’t worry so much. The net is tightening and when we strike next, there will be nowhere to run.”

He left Synto and Mykos alone. The boy was still, but squirmed on the inside. Finally, Synto sighed and said, “Speak.”

“What are we doing?” Mykos groaned. He gestured to the front door. “I’m happy we’re doing work and getting paid, but it feels like we’re kept pets. Are we going to wait forever?”

Synto chuckled and leaned back to consider his son and situation. Their home was small, but they didn’t need much. If they spent any time at all, it was sleeping or eating food they’d brought back. So much time was spent out in the city, enjoying being a part of civilization again while someone else footed the bills.

Mykos wanted so badly to be on the go and reach that future potential he believed he had. He had no idea how lucky they had it. Even this shitty little shack in the bad part of town was safe because Apollo’s influence made sure it was. The teen wanted power, but didn’t realize how true power worked.

“How have you enjoyed the food here?” Synto finally asked. “And the sights?”

“I…they’ve been good enough,” Mykos said, confused.

“And the pay? Were you ever paid this much back in your shithole village?”

His cheeks colored. “No. You know how poor we were.”

“So,” Synto leaned forward, “you’re enjoying the best food and pay of your life, you have a roof over your head, and you still want more?”

Hesitantly, Mykos nodded.

Synto slapped the table, laughing with the kind of pleased surprise that was impossible to contain. “You really are my son. I could be annoyed with you, you know. You’re impatient, greedy, arrogant, and I see a lot of myself at that age in you.”

Mykos’ face lit up.

“I was a lot smarter though, and far more grateful. Think about what Apollo’s words meant. We have three weeks to not only prepare, but enjoy our cushy lives and our positions of relative power among the bastards of this island. Apollo left us without a job to take up our time, but how about a couple of errands?”

Not the best thing to hook someone’s attention, but Mykos took any opportunity he could to do things together. During the month he’d crafted plenty of monsters to be sold or smuggled in to do damage in key areas, and been well paid for it. It was draining, thankless work that took a toll, even with increased Maw Divinity. Synto knew when to apply the carrot.

“Do I have a choice?” Mykos asked with a cheeky smile.

“As it happens, you do not. But I think you’ll appreciate at least one of our stops.”

They left, as they often did when seeking out someone in Apollo’s network, just after dark. It felt right to move around at night, and even more so since gaining the Wreath of Darkness. Synto could walk freely among the darker areas without anyone noticing him, while Mykos had a battered brown cloak that made it clear he didn’t want to be bothered. If anyone did try anything, they opened themselves up to being clubbed. No matter how dangerous this part of the city was, they remained safe at all times.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

They traveled west, from the sprawling slums on the eastern outskirts to the crowded, dirty downtown in the center of the island. Mykos led the way, while Synto kept to the shadows, flitting between patches of darkness so fast no one noticed him flicker in and out of perception.

It was one of Synto’s simple joys, once he’d coached the boy how to move in a city. He got to see the fruits of his labor as Mykos shifted his stance depending on his location, and found the paths of least resistance and notice while his father trailed behind to judge the night’s performance. They dodged three potential traps before they reached the invisible line dividing the rich from the rest of the island.

Before he crossed over, Mykos doffed the cloak and tied it around his waist. It didn’t look particularly good, but the rich didn’t trust anyone hiding their face. So long as Mykos behaved and could flash a sack of haemar to prove he belonged, there wouldn’t be any trouble. Synto fell into step alongside him as they climbed one of the city’s many stairways.

They arrived in front of an enormous estate adjacent to a gorgeous private park. Synto turned to Mykos to speak, but his son beat him to it.

“Let me guess,” said Mykos with a sneer, “let you do the talking?”

“Obviously. Save your energy for our second stop. You’ll thank me after.” Synto knocked a jaunty tattoo into the door.

They only had to wait a handful of seconds before a silver haired servant opened the door. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, Synto’s burn no doubt lending him a sinister air.

“We’re here to see Plat,” he said. “He’s expecting us. I’ll also take a drink while you’re at it. Whatever his favorite liquor is.”

The servant scowled, but opened the door wider. Synto pushed his way past and walked around like he owned the place. Some people, you didn’t antagonize. Uppity scavengers who hid behind their money, on the other hand, needed to be bullied.

He barged right into Plat’s study, where the shorter, pudgy man sat behind his desk. He started to stand before Synto shoved him back down. “No need, we’re just here for information.”

Plat looked between him and Mykos with a nervous kind of outrage. The impotent anger one had when they knew they couldn’t do anything to stop the humiliation. He took a deep breath and said, “Any friend of Apollo’s is a friend of mine,” with as much enthusiasm as a man facing his own execution. “What do you need?”

“Tell me about the Children of Stephanos who visited here today. Everything you can.”

The servant came in a second later with a cup full of a dark, smoky liquid. Synto took it and handed it to Mykos. His son was surprised, but didn’t hesitate to drink it. Foolish of him, but if it wasn’t poisoned, it would be another treat to buy his obedience.

Plat cleared his throat. “There isn’t much to tell. Tobias has bought from me before, but his rude friend Adriana is new. She disparaged my wares, he bought the Divinity for five hundred haemar, and then left. He got the Gift of Missiles, if that helps.”

“It does,” said Synto. “Is there anything else?”

Plat shook his head.

“Excellent. Thank you for your time, and let the informant know if and when they come back again. You have a nice evening.” Synto motioned for Mykos to follow him.

Only a couple minutes later, Mykos asked, “What was the point of that?”

Synto led him further into the district. A couple of members of the Bulwark eyed Mykos, but didn’t stop him. They wouldn’t, once they saw where they were headed. Instead, they’d do their best to forget the boy’s face entirely.

“I’ve been keeping track of Adriana’s movements. Well, Apollo’s men have, but I’ve been paying close attention. We’re not to attack her yet, and I know how much that galls. But between this and another informant telling of her time at the temple service and then shopping at a Builder’s, it’s told us plenty.

“We’ve held back to lull her into a false sense of security, and it’s there. We may have to wait a couple more weeks, but consider this, son.” Synto put his arm around Mykos’ shoulders and led him down some steps to an unmarked, unadorned building with two large men outside of it. They stopped a short distance away, just out of earshot.

“The more we know, the more tightly the next trap will be when it snaps. And when it does, we’ll not only kill Adriana and take her Divinity, we’ll get paid more by Apollo for the damage we’ll do to the Children of Stephanos and the Sun Temple. We’re biding our time, setting every piece right, and then we’re going to unleash chaos and destruction enough to hide our tracks.

“And when we do? There will be no one to stop us from taking an island or two for our own. That’s why we’re here. I wanted to give you a small taste of what kinds of rewards we have waiting for us when we finish this job and consolidate power.”

Mykos looked at the door and its guards. “Where are we, Father?”

Synto grinned. “A place to rest and relax, and it’s my treat.”

They approached, and one of the guards blinked as he realized Synto was there. He cleared his throat and said, “You understand that any weapons will have to be turned over, and any damage done to the product will be paid back tenfold.”

“Yes,” said Synto. “We have the money to pay, and the wisdom to behave so we don’t have to.”

The guard nodded and opened the door. Synto ushered Mykos in to a waiting room staffed by three lovely ladies. The oldest of them was in her fifties, and painted bright colors. She alone wore full clothing, and almost looked respectable. Synto pulled out his club and laid it on the counter in front of her.

“Could you accommodate a father looking to treat his son to a birthday present?” he asked with a grin.

The older woman smiled and bowed her head. “But of course. Does the favored son have a preference?”

Synto was rewarded with a sudden change and spike in his son’s desire. No longer did he want to hunt down Adriana, or hurt Apollo, or rule over their own little kingdom. Now he looked between two women his age, wearing transparent silk robes. One was a tiny redhead, the other a curvaceous blond.

They wasted no time in attaching themselves to either side of Mykos, drawing him further into the building. He looked up in joyful realization and gratitude. “He does,” said Mykos. “Is both okay?”

Synto grinned. “Always hungry. My treat, you greedy son of a whore.”

Mykos almost grew angry, but laughed and let himself be pulled to the hallway beyond, and into one of the rooms. The painted woman behind the counter cleared her throat.

He chuckled and pulled out his money-bag. A sense of satisfaction, pride, and pleasure passed through him that had nothing to do with his goals. Tonight didn’t just buy his son’s continued behavior, but his loyalty and even his…Synto shook his head.

“And how about a girl for me as well?” he added. “Might as well while we’re here.”