Page 60 of Beyond the Storm
But I couldn’t release him. My body wouldn’t obey.
“You say I’m like the sun, but you know nothing about me.” Kallias swallowed hard.
“Then tell me,” I said. “I wish to learn everything.”
“Why?”
An interesting question—one I had no answer for. All I knew for certain? This man called to something inside of me. More than a curiosity, he captivated me like no one else ever had. “Because ever since the moment I first saw you, Kallias, the earth shifted beneath me.”
Another tight swallow. His dark eyes glistened. “It shifted beneath me too.”
We held eye contact in silence, our faces so close I felt his breath on my lips.
“You know my name,” he whispered.
“Bellamy told me.” I pulled back only a little and touched the faint mark on his stomach. Hours earlier, it had been a gaping hole spitting out blood. Now, the skin was only slightly raised, similar to a month-old wound. “He also told me you weren’t stabbed. That it was only a minor scratch. Seeing this now, I must toss aside what I believe to be true and agree with him.”
“Your eyes did not deceive you,” Kallias said. “I was stabbed in battle.”
The confirmation brought with it a breath of relief. That relief soon bled into confusion. How could a wound close so soon? If he wasn’t a god, what was he?
“I fail to understand.”
His expression became gentle. “I’m unsure I know the words to ease your confusion.”
“Will you try?” My heart knocked harder against my ribs.
“I’ve always healed quickly,” he explained. “Cuts that faded in mere moments after getting them. I fell from a tree once when I was a youth and twisted my ankle. It barely had time to swell before it healed. In the agoge, the boys would smash my head with rocks and watch as the bleeding stopped. Then, they would hit me again but harder. It became a game to them.”
“The agoge?” My confusion deepened. “You are a Spartan?”
But he couldn’t be. I would have remembered him—sensed him, just as I had the moment on the battlefield before our gazes met.
“My mother was from Laconia,” he answered. “I was born there as well.”
Was that one reason I felt so drawn to him? As though my soul recognized a kindred spirit within him. He fought like one of us and even wielded similar weapons. Deeper than that, he had the stare of a Spartan. Determined. Strong. If not a little sad.
“What of your father?” I asked.
“I never knew him, but I’m told he came from the heavens.” Kallias rested his hand on my forearm. His touch was hesitant, as were his dark eyes as they searched my face. “The gifts that allow me to heal myself are because of his blood in my veins. I suppose ‘gift’ is the wrong word. It is more like a curse.”
“A curse?”
“One that carries a weight nearly too heavy for me to hold most days,” he responded. “It is the reason I was taken away shortly after joining the agoge.”
“Taken away?”
He nodded. “To be trained among those who share my blood. Boys whose fathers also came from the heavens.”
I recalled the men who’d been with him earlier, each of them possessing extraordinary beauty and strength. Brothers, he had called them.
“Why did you fight alongside us during the battle?” I asked. He and his brothers had helped us despite not being our allies. The eight of them had cut through our enemies with the strength and skill of a well-trained militia.
“I cannot say more than I already have.” He pulled away from me, and I fought the urge to tug him right back. “Will your army return to Sparta now?”
Was speaking of the war easier than discussing his past? Or maybe he wished to spare me more details of a life he believed I couldn’t understand.
I nodded. “The battle prevented our enemies from invading Laconia. A victory. Progressing farther through Corinth seems unlikely at this time, but we accomplished what we set out to do. We will now await the return of King Agesilaus from his campaign in the east before beginning the march home.”
