Chapter 45
The Whisperer stood tall, her long black hair cascading in loose curls down her back. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to glow in the light, a stark contrast to her pale skin. She wore a flowing robe of deep purple that melted into the surrounding shadows. As she moved closer, intricate silver patterns woven through her clothing became visible. Her stance exuded confidence and regality, like a queen surveying her domain.
"How did you know about me?" Lucian asked.
The Whisperer's lips curled into a knowing smile. "It's my job to know everything around here, my boy. I am an information broker. My knowledge is my currency."
Lucian swallowed hard. "Are you going to release me?"
"It depends," she replied in a cryptic tone.
"On what?"
"On your answers."
Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over Lucian. His vision blurred, and his stomach cramped, the pangs of hunger intensifying with each passing moment. He stumbled forward, his legs giving out beneath him. The hard ground rushed up to meet his knees, sending a jolt of pain through his weakened body.
The lion padded over, its warm breath ruffling Lucian's hair as it sniffed at him. He clutched at his abdomen, drawing in ragged breaths through clenched teeth. Cold sweat beaded on his brow.
The Whisperer watched, taking in every tremor of pain that wracked the boy's frame. She stood motionless, arms crossed, face betraying no hint of sympathy or concern.
Lucian lifted his head, his eyes pleading. "Please," he gasped. "I need... food. Medicine. Anything."
The lion nuzzled his face, a low rumble building in its chest. Lucian reached up, fingers curling into the thick mane. He tried to pull himself upright, but his legs refused to cooperate. The world tilted and spun around him. The hunger, the pain—it was a crushing weight, an anchor pulling him down into the abyss of his own body's despair.
Seconds ticked by, each one an eternity as he fought to stay conscious.
"You're not looking too good there," she observed. "It seems you've reached your limit."
Lucian's eyes fluttered, struggling to focus on the Whisperer's face. His lips parted, but no sound emerged. The question hung in the air, unanswered, as another wave of hunger crashed over him. His stomach twisted, a hollow ache that consumed his every thought.
The scuffling of boots on gravel pierced through the haze of his discomfort. Guards materialized from the shadows, their weapons at the ready. They formed a loose circle around Lucian and the lion. But the Whisperer raised her hand, ordering her minions to back off.
The guards hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. One of them stepped forward. "But ma'am, the prisoner—"
"I said back off," she snapped. "This situation is under control. Return to your posts. Now."
Reluctantly, the guards retreated, melting back into the shadows from whence they came. The Whisperer turned her attention back to the boy, who remained on his knees, swaying. His eyes were unfocused, lost in the internal battle against his body's urgent demands.
The lion, sensing Lucian's distress, pressed closer, its bulk providing support. A low, comforting rumble emanated from its chest, but even this failed to rouse him from his hunger-induced stupor.
"It's fascinating that the lion isn't attacking you," she mused. "It's as if it sees you as its equal. Why is that?"
The lion... right. He should probably explain, but his thoughts were scattered, fragmented by the pain.
"I... we..." Lucian started, swallowing hard to moisten his parched throat. "We gave you what you wanted."
"You did. And thank you for that, by the way."
"So a deal's a deal. We want our information."
The Whisperer let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, you poor, naive child. Did you really think I'd just hand over what you want? That's not how this works."
Lucian's stomach twisted, a fresh wave of pain radiating through him. He gritted his teeth, fighting to stay focused. "But... you said..."
"I said I'd consider it," she cut him off. "And I have. I've decided the information is useless to you now. You're going to die here, boy. Slowly. Painfully. What good would my secrets do to you?"
The lion growled, a low, menacing sound.
Lucian placed a steadying hand on its flank, as much to calm himself as the beast. He thought of Linus, of the cryptic hints his uncle had dropped.
"Please," he managed to say. "I need to know about my mother."
The Whisperer's eyebrows raised slightly. "Your mother? And why should I care about your family drama?"
What had Linus said? The Whisperer was the key, but to what? He closed his eyes, fighting against the fog of hunger. Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him.
"Ianthe," he said, the name falling from his lips like a prayer.
The Whisperer leaned forward, gripping the railing. "What did you just say?"
Lucian looked up, meeting her gaze. Even through the haze of pain, he saw something flicker in her eyes. Recognition? Fear? He pressed on.
"Ianthe," he repeated, each word a struggle. "She's my mother."
"You're lying!"
"I'm not."
"And why should I believe you? What makes you think you're her son?"
"The lion," he said. "You saw it. I have an affinity with animals. You said it yourself, it sees me as its own."
The Whisperer stared at him, eyes narrowed to slits. She said nothing, her silence stretching out like a taut wire between them. Lucian waited, desperately hoping for some sign, some acknowledgment.
Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, he spoke again. "You know what I am, don't you? You know what's happening to me." He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "You know that I'm a half-god. My mother... you know her as Artemis. And, as you can see, I share some of her powers."
The words hung in the air. Lucian watched the Whisperer's face, searching for any hint of reaction. Her expression remained blank, but something flickered behind her eyes - recognition, perhaps? Or was it fear?
"Look," he continued. "I know this sounds crazy. Hell, I can barely believe it myself. But I need answers. I need to understand what's happening to me. I need to know about my mother's past. And I think... I think you might be the only one who can help me."
The Whisperer's lips tightened, but still said nothing. Lucian felt a surge of frustration. What the hell is wrong with her? Why won't she say anything?
"Damn it, say something!" he exclaimed. "You can't just stand there and—"
His words were cut off by a sudden, guttural grunt. Before he could react, she turned on her heel and strode away, leaving him alone with unanswered questions and the growing certainty that he was running out of time.
He lay motionless on the floor, the Whisperer's abrupt departure leaving him reeling. "What just happened? Did I say something wrong?" The questions swirled in his head, but a more pressing concern emerged - was he going to die here?
Lucian tried to move, to lift an arm, to wiggle a finger, anything. But his body refused to respond. It was as if he'd been severed from his physical form, trapped inside an unresponsive shell. Panic began to set in, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
The lion sat beside him, its eyes scanning the surroundings. Lucian felt a pang of bitter irony. Here was this powerful creature, and it could do nothing to help him. It was as useless as he was at that moment.
His vision began to blur at the edges. Is this it? Is this how it ends? He thought of all the things he'd never get to do, all the questions left unanswered. The weight of his mortality pressed down on him, suffocating.
As his consciousness began to slip away, he heard something. A voice, faint and distant, calling out. It sounded like... Mira? But that couldn't be right. She wasn't here. Was she?
He strained to focus, to hold onto that thread of sound. But it was slipping away, just like everything else. His thoughts grew foggy, his grip on reality loosening. In his final moments of clarity, he wondered if he'd imagined it all - the voice, the Whisperer, everything. Maybe this was just the end, his mind playing tricks on him as it shut down.
The darkness crept in, consuming his vision. Lucian felt himself falling, tumbling into an endless void. And then, nothing.
A shock of cold water jolted him awake. Lucian sputtered and coughed, his eyes snapping open as he sat up abruptly. Disoriented, he blinked the water from his eyes, his gaze finally focusing on a familiar face.
"What the fuck?" He croaked, his throat raw.
Mira stood over him, an empty bucket dangling from her hand. She tossed it aside with a clatter, replacing it with a bow that she gripped tightly.
"You can't die yet," she said. "We have unfinished business."
Lucian tried to piece together what had happened. The last thing he remembered was the overwhelming hunger and the loss of control. He glanced around, suddenly realizing something was missing.
"Where's my lion?" he asked.
Mira's lip curled. "It took a while and a lot of guards, but we managed to bring it back to its prison." She jerked her chin at him. "Now, get up."
"Wait, took a while?" he mumbled, confusion clouding his thoughts. "What are you talking about? How long was I out? Was it a few hours? It couldn't have been more than that."
"Get up. I'm not going to repeat myself!" Mira's voice cut through his confusion like a knife.
He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. He was alive? How was that possible? The hunger that had consumed him earlier had subsided, at least for now. But he could still feel it lurking beneath the surface, waiting to claw its way out again.
Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, his legs unsteady.
"We're going to finish our business here," she said. "One on one."
"I thought you needed my master here?" Lucian asked, his mind still struggling to catch up.
A smirk played at the corners of Mira's mouth. "No need. I have another surprise for you."
She snapped her fingers, and Lucian saw Talos, dragging a bound figure. With a grunt, he threw the person to the ground, and Lucian's blood ran cold as he recognized who it was.
"Stephanos!" The name tore from his throat.
Without thinking, he lunged forward, desperate to reach his friend. But Mira was quicker, her bow coming up in an instant, an arrow nocked and pointed directly at his chest. "Not so fast there."
Lucian's gaze shifted back and forth between Mira and Stephanos. He couldn't wrap his mind around what was happening. How had things escalated to this point?
"B-but how?" Lucian stammered.
Mira's voice was cold as she replied, "We found him lurking in our underground prison trying to find you."
"Find me?"
"Yeah, he thought you were in that fake room, but in truth, you were somewhere else."
Confusion furrowed his brow. "Fake room?"
"Yes," she nodded, a hint of smugness in her tone. "See, we always give false information to our guards in case something like this happens. Your friend fell for it."
Lucian's gaze darted to Stephanos, still bound and helpless on the ground. "Let him go."
"Not a chance," she retorted. "The only way you're going to rescue him is through me."
"But Stephanos has nothing to do with this."
"I don't care. Tell you what, fight me and if you win, I'll let him go."
"What? Why are you doing this? Why not just kill me and be done with it?"
"Because I'm giving you a chance, just as you and your master gave me the chance to get out of our ropes. Besides, why waste the fun? I told you before, I've got something special for you. This was it."
Lucian studied her face, searching for any sign of deception. His voice was laced with suspicion as he asked, "How can I trust you'll actually do what you say? This whole setup reeks of a trap."
She shrugged, her bow still trained on him. "You can't. It's simple - believe me or don't. Your call."
"And how exactly am I supposed to fight you without any weapons? You've got that bow, and I've got jack shit."
Mira tilted her head to the side in a mocking gesture. "There's a sword and shield over there. You're welcome to try and get them."
Lucian followed her gaze and saw how far away the weapons were, probably a couple of paces away. No way he could reach them before she filled him full of arrows. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. They're halfway across the arena!"
"Not my problem. Figure it out."
This is bullshit, Lucian thought. She clearly wanted him at a disadvantage to ensure her victory. But winning meant his death. Some choice she gave.
He glanced at Stephanos, still bound and gagged on the floor. He couldn't abandon his friend, not when he needed him the most.
Taking a deep breath, Lucian shifted into a fighting stance, his muscles coiled and ready to spring. "Let's make this fast."
A predatory smile spread across Mira's face. "With pleasure."
As they faced off, Lucian's thoughts whirled. How the hell was he going to get out of this one? He needed a plan, and fast. But with Mira's arrow trained on him and Stephanos's life hanging in the balance, his options were severely limited. All he could do was react and hope for an opening. Somehow, he had to turn the tables on Mira before it was too late.