Phoenix Chosen #3 (The Phoenix Guardians #3)

7. Kalistratos

7

KALISTRATOS

I awake to bird song and the feeling that I’ve been asleep too long. Tyler snores softly on his side, his face just a few inches away from mine and his arms wrapped tightly around the egg.

Our egg.

I smile to myself. It was not long ago the prospect of fatherhood seemed as likely as finding the mythical floating city of Cephallenia. I don’t think there was ever a time I pictured myself becoming a parent.

Am I capable of raising a child? I’ve never been known to make wise decisions, but I suppose that’s where Tyler comes in.

But what will happen with our child, once this journey is over? Lord Atherios had said the children of the Chosen “bear a fire that will restore the flame in the lost temple.” What did that mean? How would their power bring him back?

In my head, I imagine three small children raising torches to light a brazier inside of a wondrous temple and the Great Phoenix appearing in a flash of light. All darkness, gone. Umbrios locked away. Tyler, Alyx, Airos, and two unknown omegas smiling and clapping. Everyone’s happy.

Cheesus . Two more pregnant omegas. Does that mean they will be mates for Alyx and Airos?

I stifle a chuckle. It’s not difficult to imagine Airos taking a mate, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a few omegas out there, wondering whether he would ever return to their little village. I don’t know Airos well, but from the time we’ve spent together, I’ve gotten the clear impression that he loves dipping his wick as much as he likes sucking on that little wine gourd of his.

Alyx, on the other hand… I’ve known him almost my whole life, and many of those years were spent in some form other than human, whether it be cat, raven, dog, or something else. His taste in omegas isn’t something we’d ever discussed. Our relationship is built on quiet understanding. That’s how it’s always been, and that’s why we’d become such good friends. We accept there are things about the other that we don’t need to know.

Without disturbing Tyler, I leave the shack to find Airos returning to the campsite from somewhere carrying a basket of wild greens, figs, grapes, and a few small mushrooms.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he says, setting the basket on a rock. “I have breakfast for you and Tyler. It isn’t much, I’m afraid. I didn’t want to chance lighting a fire for something more robust.”

“I’m accustomed to eating forage,” I tell him. “And it looks like you’ve collected quite a good haul.”

“Thank you very much,” he says with a bow. “I’ve tried to avoid going into town as much as possible these past few weeks. It gave me some time to sharpen my skills in the woods. A man can eat well from the forest if he knows where to look. How did you sleep?”

“Well enough. Thank you again for keeping watch. I was going to relieve you, but I slept through the night… I was more exhausted than I realized.”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Priests of Gnosis are trained to stay awake for days at a time.”

“For what?”

“Reading. Study. It’s the only way one could ever expect to consume even a fraction of the knowledge available in our archives. To my fortune, sleeping is not one of my strengths. So, as you can imagine, I’ve been able to learn a lot.” With a smile, Airos pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine for the journey ahead. Trust me, I’m accustomed to it.”

“Alright,” I say, with a shrug. “You’d better not get all loopy on us.”

“I have my tea, two companions, and I’ll refill my wine gourd in town. That will keep me going today.”

“Will you make a supply run?” I ask.

“I was about to go now. And to see if I can find out what became of that Hulaiosi. What was their name?”

“Praxis Skotos,” I say unhappily, once again recalling the events of last night.

With a yawn and a stretch, Tyler emerges from the shack. “Good morning,” he says, settling beside me with the egg cradled in its wrapping against his hip. “Wow, I slept like the dead.”

The side of his hair is poking straight up from sleep, and I reach over and brush it down with my fingers. The morning sun dapples over his sleepy face through the leaves overhead, and he smiles at me.

“Breakfast for our Chosen,” Airos says, offering the basket to Tyler.

“Mm. Such a bro,” Tyler says, grabbing a fig and some grapes. “I’m fucking starving.”

“I’m familiar with the name Praxis Skotos,” Airos says as he sits on the ground across from us. “Quite the reputation in the mercenary circles.”

I shouldn’t be surprised that Airos knows him. I sometimes forget the monk garb only represents one of his professions.

“He’s good at what he does,” I admit begrudgingly.

“Some say he must be the bastard son of the hunting god himself.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I mutter with an irritated huff.

“How did you know him?” Tyler asks, his mouth full of fig.

I stuff a handful of dandelion stems into my mouth and crunch on the bitter greens. Tyler and Airos stare at me expectantly. I sigh and scratch my neck.

“It was over fifteen years ago. I was pilfering purses and the occasional lockbox from the high district in Athenos. Alyx was with me by then too, working as my partner. I was the only one who knew his true form. Everyone else knew him as my very reliable, very sneaky cat who was skilled at unlocking doors, and so on. Anyway, there was another boy, our best friend…”

I tell them about Lysander.

He was one of the younger boys in the gang, gentle in demeanor and overly trusting. He was not cut out for such a life, but circumstances left him without a choice. I’d done my best to take care of him, to keep him with me and even give him a split of my loot so he would have something to show at the end of the day.

Lysander was small and weak, but despite the cruelty the Gods had shown him, he’d never lost his kindness or pure spirit. I’d admired him for that. I guess that’s why I’d taken him under my wing. It was something worth protecting.

“Our gang was small,” I explain. “We mostly dealt in thievery, but Praxis pushed for more. He’d always been the group’s fist. Some called him the feral dog. Our leaders couldn’t argue with his effectiveness. He was bringing in more money than anyone else. The problem was he wasn’t sticking to petty street theft. He was taking work from the Athenosian dark market, slave hunting, making promises and agreements with the worst kind of criminals.”

Our leaders had encouraged it, but we were all just kids. We weren’t ready for the world that Praxis had gotten us roped into.

The event that pushed me to leave Athenos behind came without warning.

It’d been an ordinary day in early fall, begun with a morning meal I shared with some of the other boys, just like I was doing now with Tyler and Airos. Lysander had stolen some goat milk for Alyx to drink, and Alyx, uncharacteristically, had allowed him to pet his fur as he drank it. I still perfectly remember the way Alyx had glared at me, silently daring me to laugh, and the look of absolute joy that’d been on Lysander’s face.

That was the last time Alyx and I ever saw him alive.

Alyx and I had gone to the market together to make our rounds for the day. Normally, Lysander would’ve joined us, but something had kept him back at the hideout.

It’s been so long, I can’t even remember what it was anymore.

Maybe one of the leaders had instructed him to stay; perhaps he’d volunteered. Had he any idea about what was going to happen?

We’d only been gone for a couple of hours when word reached us that there’d been a raid on our hideout. Erpetosi bandits, we were told, out to retaliate for an encroachment on their domain. We returned to find our small corner of the slums destroyed—the makeshift mudbrick shelters most of our gang called home torn to the ground by frog tongues and set ablaze with their swamp tar—a foul concoction nearly impossible to douse once set alight. Some had managed to escape, but most had died trying to defend our territory. We found Lysander curled up beneath a smoking beam, not far from the space the three of us usually slept. Held tightly in his blackened arms was the small clay jar still partially filled with goat milk, like he’d been trying to protect it for Alyx’s return.

Our group was targeted because of Praxis. He’d tracked and stolen slaves from the Erpetosi bandits, thinking they would never be able to trace it back to him. He’d sold out every single one of us for a payout from buyers on the dark market. Our gang never recovered. The surviving members scattered. Most were absorbed into other, more dangerous groups.

“Praxis knew what he’d done,” I tell Tyler and Airos. “He had no remorse for it.”

“That’s so fucked,” Tyler says angrily. “I’m so sorry, Kalistratos.”

“A dangerous enemy to have,” Airos says. “I wonder… was he tapped by the Shadow Phoenix because of his connection to you?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “But if Alyx were here, I’m sure he would say that there are no coincidences.”

Airos gets to his feet. “And I would be inclined to agree with him. I would not discount the possibility he was chosen by Umbrios and placed in front of you all of those many years ago. The Gods play games on a scale we can’t comprehend.”

I sigh and press my fingers into the bridge of my nose. “Sometimes, all of this fate business hurts my head.”

“I think we should waste no further time,” Airos says. “I’m altering my plan. I don’t think it’s safe for me to enter the city now. I have to assume Praxis has all of our scents.”

“Maybe you got him with that stone cage?” Tyler suggests uncertainly. “Crushed him like a bug?”

“I think we all know that I didn’t. You saw the shadow trying to escape. Did you feel that his presence had been extinguished?”

Tyler considers this, then shakes his head. “No, I guess not.”

“Alright.” I stand and help Tyler up. “Then we depart now. But we’re going to need to get supplies somewhere. We should detour south and stop at Aelonos.”

Airos raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You can’t be serious. Need I remind you that Aelonos is known for its dark market activity?”

“I know the town well. Alyx and I kept a hideout in the hills just outside of it, and if he traveled through the region, I’m certain he would’ve gone there. It might give us some idea of where he is now. At the very least, there should still be a cache of supplies there.” I search for the phrase Tyler taught me. “Uh, a little bit of kolumay, a little bit of kolomee.”

“Column A and column B,” Tyler corrects.

“You have a better idea, Airos?” I say.

“We go east for Delphos, and take a sailing ship around the coast, following it south, then west. There are friends of my order who can arrange this for us.”

I snort in disbelief. “What? That’s like scaling a wall when there’s a perfectly good door right in front of you. It’d add days—no, weeks—to our journey.”

“Better to scale a wall than use a door that’s watched and guarded,” he retorts, throwing the tail of his cloak over his shoulder dismissively.

“And we could miss Alyx going that way!” I exclaim.

“Hey, come on, guys,” Tyler says, waving his hands. “We don’t need to argue about this…”

“What would you choose, Tyler?” Airos asks. “You’re the third vote in this group, it’s your choice.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s way too much pressure. This isn’t like choosing between Coke and Pepsi here. I don’t know shit about either of these choices.”

“ Coke ,” I say firmly.

Airos stares at me, arms folded over his chest. “This is a dilemma. How do we stand a chance at succeeding in our mission when we can’t even agree on how to begin it?”

“Well, the first thing to realize is that we’re all in this together,” Tyler says calmly. “And we’re all still getting to know each other. Even you and me.” He puts his hand on mine. “Fated, Chosen, whatever, there’s still no getting around that.”

It’s certainly a reminder of how well Alyx and I know each other’s minds. We’re brothers.

“I know! There’s a thing we do where I’m from to help settle disputes,” Tyler says, and he holds out his hand. “This is paper. This is rock, and this is scissors. Paper beats rock, rock beats scissors, scissors beats paper. Both of you, put your hands out like this. Then go, ‘rock, paper, scissors, shoot!’ Get it?”

Airos and I look at each other, then at Tyler.

“Why does paper beat a rock?” Airos asks.

“Come on, I thought you were smart,” I say. “Think about it. Paper is made from plants. Plants grow through rocks and crack them into pebbles.”

“Pebbles are still rocks,” Airos says.

Tyler almost laughs. “I think it’s just because a paper can wrap around a rock.” He places his hand over my fist.

“Well, that’s stupid,” I mutter.

“Let’s do it.” Airos sticks out his fist. “And no freezing time. I’ll know.”

“Obviously.”

We slap our fists into our palms.

What would Airos play? My first thought is rock, simply because of his phoenix powers. But I’m certain he’s aware that I’m thinking he would play rock, which means he might play scissors. Or would he take it one step further?

It all depends on how much credit he gives me. Does he think I’m a complete idiot, or does he think I would try and read into his strategy?

“Rock… paper… scissors…”

I realize it doesn’t matter. Both of them lead to the same place. I have to play with my intuition.

“SHOOT.”

I throw down paper.

I grin. Airos has shown rock.

He clicks his tongue. “I hope we don’t regret this.”