Page 312 of The Spider Queen
“How did you know that I’d go insane if—”
“I know about you. Okay? The Sibyl’s prophecy, remember? If you were really altruistic, you’d stay here and ease his burdens.”
“To serve him means I don’t serve the humans. I do feel a sense of responsibility for them.”
“Why?” he wondered. “They are rapists, murderers, animal abusers—”
“As you pointed out, I’m supposed to help them or they’ll suffer endlessly. So what is this? Are you trying to convince me otherwise?”
“No, I’m simply saying that altruism doesn’t exist.”
“What about good Samaritans who sacrifice themselves for the greater good? Those that march to their deaths knowing their lives will mean something if their families get to live in freedom and peace. Mothers protecting their children. Husbands shielding their wives from evil. You know nothing, Jax.”
Tears threatened to tumble down my cheeks and I let them because what did I have to hide?
“I’ve seen the barbarism of the world,” Jax said, his tone soft yet it carried on the wind to my ears. “I was part of it. I reveled in the devastation. In the hurt and the anguish. I cried in jubilation as I watched the walls of Troy fall. Those walls that had withstood our siege for ten years. I am written about in books, even if they give the credit of the destruction to someone else. The world does not know my name. They do not know my cunning. They do not know what I’ve sacrificed.
“You know nothing, Stella. You are still naive and innocent. And it will be your downfall.”
“I don’t like you,” I said.
“Yes, you do. Because I am not that man anymore.”
“You’re not?”
“I am made of stone. The parts of me that caused all that anguish and hurt are made of cold rock. All that is left of me is the desire to see it right.”
“But you said altruism doesn’t exist.”
“It doesn’t. I tore out your mark with my own teeth. I am venturing into harpy land to help you, but it’s because I wish to ease my own suffering. I will not lie to you, Stella. Not ever. Not like the Prince of Darkness who you have taken into your bed and into your body. You made a poor choice, but we are all slaves to our lust. We have that—at least—in common with the mortals you so desperately wish to help.”
I clamped my mouth shut. I was too tired to debate with immoral immortals that had been alive longer than me.
What did I have to offer except the exuberance of youth, and as Jax said, my naiveté.
“I will change the world,” I stated.
His shoulders tightened and his stone wings lifted ever so softly. He carried them like he carried his burdens. Steadfast. Sure. And knowing they were of his own making.
“Is that arrogance I detect?”
“No. Just fact. I will succeed. I will earn my freedom, and I will help humanity.”
Jax stared at me for a long moment and then his face tightened. He looked to the sky and blinked.
“They are here,” he said softly, his tone bleak.
Before I could reply, I saw the swarm descend. They came upon us fast, like locusts over a field. They landed.
“Jax?” I whispered.
“Find the Smith,” he said. “Ask for the dome. He will see to it.”
Those were his last words before a brown-haired harpy tackled him to the ground and smashed him into gravel.
I looked at Jax. Or what had once been Jax. He was nothing but a pile of rubble. Despite his demons, despite his darkness, a gasp of despair escaped me. He’d been the closest thing to a friend in this wretched, beautiful prison.
The harpies marched around me in a circle, flapping their featherless bird wings and chittering. Whistles and screeches hit my ears, causing me to cover them, wincing in pain.
