Unsure what to say, what to do to help, he looked to Skyla. The pity and horror awash on her face said she was as lost as he was. Turning to Demetrius on his other side, Orpheus saw the guardian’s clenched jaw and the mixture of fury and disgust etched into his features.
“The colony,” Demetrius said in a hoarse voice. Then stronger, “We take him to the colony. There are healers there who can help him.”
“Not Argolean healers,” Orpheus countered.
“So we get Callia and bring her to the colony too.”
Yeah, Callia. That was a good idea. Callia was the queen’s personal healer and Isadora’s sister as well. With her Horae powers, she’d be the one to help Gryphon through this.
Orpheus looked back down at his brother. Watched as Skyla draped the blanket over Gryphon’s shoulders and ran her fingers through his hair, humming again, trying to soothe him. But when she looked up and her heartsick eyes met Orpheus’s, he knew she was thinking the same thing he was.
Shame. Nothing could reduce a warrior to a quaking puddle of tears except shame.
Dear gods, what happened to him down there?
Sickness brewed in Orpheus’s stomach as he swiped a hand across his forehead, tried to refocus. He’d worry about all of that later. Right now they had to get Gryphon away from this place. “He can’t flash. Not in his physical state, not on earth. And I can’t put him on a commercial flight when he’s…like this.”
“We’ll charter a plane then,” Demetrius said in a determined voice. “Isadora has human cash reserves set aside for emergencies. This qualifies.”
Orpheus nodded even as a lump the size of a boulder settled in his throat. Yeah, this qualified all right. He’d thought getting Gryphon out of the Underworld would be the hardest obstacle they’d have to overcome. He hadn’t considered what would happen after.
Hand shaking, he reached out to brush Gryphon’s leg. A reassuring pat, for both of them. “It’s gonna be okay, Gryph. Everything’s going to be okay.”
But Gryphon didn’t answer. Only flinched out of Orpheus’s touch as if he’d been burned. Then buried his head in his arms and wept harder.
Chapter 24
The hours flying back to Montana passed in silence. The jet they’d chartered in Crete was roomy, with a couch along one wall of the cabin, captain’s chairs on the other side, a galley, and a fancy bathroom. But none of them seemed to notice their posh surroundings. The horrors of the last few hours—the last few days—were too fresh.
Skyla kept Gryphon relaxed on the couch, running her fingers through his hair when he stirred, humming when he seemed to grow agitated, singing when they stopped to refuel and he looked like he was ready to bolt. He curled into himself as he’d done back in that shack, his back to the group, his face hidden. When he was still, several times Orpheus had peered over his shoulder, just to make sure he was still breathing. Sometimes Gryphon was asleep. Other times he lay frozen, staring wide-eyed at the back of the couch as if lost in a daze.
Demetrius spent most of his time in the cockpit with the pilot, and Skyla alternated between soothing Gryphon and tinkering in the galley, looking for food. She didn’t speak much, but her singing helped smooth Orpheus’s frayed edges too. And when she brought him a sandwich and sat next to him, then squeezed his hand before eating her own, that warmth returned to his chest. The same warmth he felt anytime she was close. Anytime she touched him. Anytime he thought about the way she’d protected Gryphon on their trek out of the Underworld, sung to keep him calm, and comforted him in that shack when Orpheus hadn’t known what to do.
She was a rock. One who picked up the slack Orpheus left dangling, even though she had to be exhausted herself. While Orpheus’s head spun with images from the Underworld and he couldn’t seem to do much more than sit and stare at his brother, she made sure everything on the trip back to the colony ran smoothly.
And she hadn’t even looked at the Orb under Gryphon’s shirt, let alone tried to take it.
That last thought revolved in Orpheus’s mind as they landed in the dark in Missoula. What was she waiting for?
Nick had a car ready to meet them at the airport. As they bounced along the road toward the colony, Skyla sat next to Gryphon and kept up her humming to keep him calm. Every time they switched surroundings, that wild-eyed look would return to Gryphon’s face and he’d dart crazed looks around as if searching for…someone.
As they neared the colony, Gryphon tipped his head Orpheus’s way. “I don’t want to see them. The guys. If they’re here…” His voice grew hoarse, but his eyes were clear. Clearer than they’d been since they’d found him. “If they’re here, make them leave.”
“Whatever you want, Gryph.” Orpheus’s throat closed around the words. As he squeezed his brother’s shoulder, he caught Demetrius’s gaze in the front seat. The guardian nodded once in silent commune, then looked out the dark windshield again.
The trip through the tunnels seemed shorter than when Orpheus had brought Skyla and Maelea through. Had that been only days ago? Gods, it felt like years. So much had happened since then.
Nick met them in the vast cavern where various tunnels took off in a variety of directions and led them to the elevator. Gryphon seemed to have mellowed now that he was on his feet and walking on his own. Skyla left with Demetrius to fill the others in on what had happened while Nick took Orpheus and Gryphon up to find a room on the fifth floor of the castle.
Orpheus had the impression of pale blue walls and furnishings, but his focus was on his brother. He helped Gryphon into the room, settled him into a chair. After speaking quietly with Nick at the door, he learned all the Argonauts were here, eager to see Gryphon. He made sure Nick understood that might not be a good idea just yet.
Nick eyed Gryphon warily over Orpheus’s shoulder. “You sure he’s okay?”
“Would you be okay after three months in the Underworld?”
“No. That’s why I’m worried.”
“I’ll stay with him.”
Nick nodded but didn’t look reassured. “Pick up the phone if you need anything. It runs to a central line.”
As Nick’s boots clicked down the hall, Orpheus closed the door and turned back to the room. Gryphon sat unmoving in the chair, staring off into space.
His body looked the same as always. Muscular, strong, healthy, albeit a little on the thin side. But the dead look in his eyes and the exhaustion lines on his face spoke of the strain on his soul.
Orpheus crossed the floor, helped Gryphon out of the chair by grasping his arm and pulling him up. “Let’s get you into a shower. The water will feel good.”
Gryphon didn’t fight him as he maneuvered them into the bathroom, with its wide glass shower and mirror that ran the length of the double vanity. But when Orpheus reached for his shirt, Gryphon swatted his hands. “I can do it myself.”
“Are you sure?”
“I was dead, not stupid,” Gryphon murmured, turning away. He pulled the shirt over his head, dropped it on the floor. Tugged the chain from around his neck and dropped that too. The chain that held the Orb of Krónos.
He hesitated before unbuttoning his pants. “Do you mind? I’d like some privacy.”
“Sure. Yeah. I’ll just be in the other room if you need me.”
Orpheus eyed the Orb, lying on the floor at his brother’s feet. His fingers itched to pick it up, but he fought back the urge. It wasn’t going anywhere. As he stepped out and closed the door, he listened to make sure Gryphon didn’t melt again. Long seconds passed with no sound, then the toilet flushed, followed by the shower turning on.
Orpheus moved away from the bathroom door and was just about to call down to see what Skyla was up to when a knock sounded to his right.