Chapter 46

It was another several hours before the yacht slipped out into the Ala?ati Bay, and Stefan turned away from the sunrise peeking over the horizon. The delay had been tedious, but not dangerous, in the end. Typical bureaucratic nonsense to ensure they had signed the right papers and paid the right fees before Turkey was willing to let them go. There'd been no mention of Ari or of the vagrant escape on the southern ridge, not a peep from Omir or any other Turkish official about anything going awry on the sleepy June night.

Sleep wasn't something he'd had much of through it all—catnaps only, with reports coming in from all directions… not to mention the gift that Hades had given him. What in the world was he supposed to do with that? Nicki had woken up in his arms in her stateroom with no memory of what had transpired in the Underworld, and a subsequent check of her vitals—which he'd pushed her on since she'd fainted again—showed absolutely no change in her readings.

They wouldn't show any change, he thought. Hades might not end up doing anything regarding her heart that she couldn't have done by medical doctors, the god simply wasn't going to accept her into the Underworld until she was ready. He did have some sway over such things, as Lord of the Underworld. And if he really wanted more ambassadors in O?ros…

He shook his head. He needed to work through all this after they safely delivered the prince.

The weather for sailing was clear. There should be nothing to obstruct their speed. They wouldn't race home, wouldn't draw attention, but at least they wouldn't run into any storms. He didn't know how Ari would handle a storm at sea, given how his odyssey had begun nearly a year ago.

The royal family had been put off with a convenient lie about the timing of the rescue operation—and more lies about the precise nature of the facilities they were infiltrating. Cyril knew the truth, but if the king and queen had received word of the possible conditions Ari had been enduring, it wouldn't have helped matters. It probably would've complicated them, in fact, with Jasen and Catherine's natural tendency to want to intervene using diplomatic channels.

As to the other victims of that unfortunate holding pen, the mythological beasts that had been restrained with electronic devices, Cyril was pursuing that on this side of the gates to Olympus and Hephaestus was pursuing it on his side. The electronics were devoid of any barcodes or identification, but they would eventually track down where they were made. The smaller-than-ordinary beasts were a more puzzling issue. Was someone breeding monsters for mortal use, somehow? As pets or protection or the gods only knew what else? If so, the monster god Typhon had to be involved, there simply was no other way around it.

Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to sort all the moving parts.

And then there was the prince himself. Ari was being monitored in his stateroom, with surveillance cameras installed in his sleeping quarters and even the bathroom for this purpose. Not to invade his privacy, but to ensure he didn't become disoriented again or harm himself either by accident or misguided design. Stefan grimaced. The crown prince wouldn't be affronted to learn of the surveillance, merely bemused. But that man in the stateroom wasn't the crown prince. He might never be.

The final piece of information was the most disquieting. The name Ryker Stavros had to come from somewhere, but Stefan couldn't for the life of him deduce where. And all attempts to quietly ascertain that answer had so far met a dead end. Had Stavros helped Ari escape the wreckage of his plane? Had he attempted to harm Ari in some way, imprinting on him indelibly?

"Sir. The communications room is ready."

"Good," he said. "Miss Clark?"

"Already present. She was waiting for us when we knocked."

That did finally ease Stefan's tension, for all that it introduced another round of concerns. Hades' intercession or not, Nicki would undergo exhaustive tests when they returned to O?ros, but he wasn't fooling himself into believing that she'd necessarily act on the results. She wasn't a child, or in his command. He couldn't force her to take the information they would provide her and care for herself appropriately. He couldn't force her to stop taking so many risks, to stop pushing herself so relentlessly.

There were so many things he couldn't do.

Shoving those thoughts out of his mind, he followed Tamas down to the communications room and pushed inside. As Tamas had indicated, Nicki had already arrived. She stood against the far wall, fresh and ready for anything in a tee-shirt and khakis. Her color was good, her eyes bright.

She'd hate that he was even thinking of her in those terms, as if she were an invalid in any way. Too bad. She may not remember anything she'd said in the Underworld, but he did.

She'd told him that she loved him.

Stefan's heart gave a strange little leap in his chest at that thought, his blood seeming to flush through his body, his nerves crackling with anticipation, but he schooled his features to neutral and gave Nicki no more than a brief nod before turning to Tamas, who stood at the controls. "Patch us through."

The screens came alive and Cyril Gerou was the first to catch his attention, but multiple screens flickered and Stefan sighed. The king, queen and Prince Kristos were also on the video screen. Their expressions indicated that they were braced for the worst.

"Report," Cyril said crisply, giving no indication that Stefan had already been in contact with him. Probably wise.

"Our reconnaissance trip proved successful sir, Your Highnesses," he said, focusing on Cyril and pushing on as all three members of the Andris family surged forward, brimming with questions.

"Ari is alive," he raised his hand sharply, making the royal family flinch, though it didn't stop Catherine from bursting into tears. "He appears to be suffering from a severe case of amnesia. He doesn't know who he is or how he came to be in the airplane. He knows that he crashed, and that he's some sort of pilot. He believes his name is Ryker Stavros. We have not?—"

"Ryker Stav—you're joking." It was Kristos who spoke, and Stefan flicked his gaze to the screen depicting the young prince. Kristos stared at him wide-eyed, while Jasen turned to his wife and drew her close. "That name—that was a character Ari dreamed up when we were kids, an alter ego or whatever. Ryker Stavros was an international mercenary bounty hunter kind of guy, able to go anywhere, be anyone. We would role play games for hours where he was Ryker and I was an equally capable Drake Quinn or something like that." He smiled weakly. "Only I wasn't a pilot. I was a special forces operative."

"He's healthy though—he's healthy?" Catherine turned from Jasen's embrace and stared into the screen. "He doesn't have his memory, but we can help him with that. We can help him."

"He appears healthy, yes." Stefan nodded. "He's submitted to a basic medical review aboard ship, but we'll need a more exhaustive examination when he returns to O?ros." He paused. "If his return to the capital city is considered advisable immediately, that is. I'm not certain."

"Why not—" Catherine's anguished cry was quelled by King Jasen's snapped response.

"You think it will delay his recovery? It will overwhelm him?"

"There's simply no way to tell, Your Highness. He believes quite firmly that he was concussed in the crash, but he knows with a certainty his name and his trade. If we suddenly take that out from under him, I'm not sure how he'll respond." Stefan grimaced. "Further, I'm not sure we want to manage the press once they learn that the prince has returned, but that he is in any way impaired."

"He's not impaired," the queen protested hotly. "Don't even say that. He's injured—but he will recover."

"He might recover, Catherine," Jasen said. His words were stern, but not unkind. They had the result of making the queen go pale. "Ari is alive, and for that we are eternally grateful. He appears to be responding normally otherwise?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Stefan nodded. "He appears in good health and of sound mind, other than his memory. I have no idea if that will change."

"Agreed. But if we have the prince here on site, the media will learn of it. It could be overwhelming for him, and that won't be helpful."

"But how can we—how can he—" the queen's throat worked as she tried to get hold of herself. "We have to be able to see him," she whispered. "Surely that can be arranged somehow?"

"Ask Fran—she might know."

Nicki's voice sounded from the corner of the room, and she took a step back as everyone's eyes turned to her. She still seemed a little disoriented, which was a fair enough reaction. He still hadn't fully processed everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, and she had had her memory blanked on top of that. But she wouldn't betray any weakness to the queen, he knew. She wouldn't want to betray weakness to anyone.

The queen leaned forward, breaking away from Jasen. "What do you mean, she might know?" she demanded.

"Well, she worked with vets—active military too. That was her thesis study, the effects of PTSD on general cognitive something or other." Nicki flapped her hand, clearly warming to the idea. "I don't know the specifics, but she spent nearly a year on it so she would know. Heck, maybe she could talk to Ryker—Ari. Maybe she can help him remember who he is?"

The queen seized on the idea with both hands, turning to Kristos. "Where are the girls now?" she asked, but once again Jasen was the voice of reason.

"We have time, Catherine," he said, his words calm. "It's another several hours before the yacht reaches our shores." He flicked his gaze to Cyril. "Do you agree with Stefan's concern about where they should dock?"

"I do, Your Highness," the chief advisor said carefully. "It might be wise for the yacht to dock at Asteri for a few days. We can send a medical team there. If there's a reason to bring Ari to the mainland, we can. If there's a reason for him to remain, it's a comfortable location."

Stefan nodded. Asteri was a private island owned by the royal family but rarely used except as a getaway for esteemed guests seeking a safe haven in the tiny country. The king and queen had long preferred to remain in the thick of the action in the capital city, but the island was isolated, pristine, and the facilities there—while more than suitable—were not as elaborate as the palace.

"It's a good idea," Stefan said. "Whether you recruit Miss Simmons or a more experienced psychologist, I would advise you to keep the circle of the informed quite tight. This is not something we want in the news."

"No," Catherine spoke before Jasen could. "No, we do not. We'll find someone we trust," she said. "Take him to Asteri, Stefan. Thank you for bringing him home."

He let his mouth soften into a brief smile. "I'm not the only one you should thank."