Sirens Unbound

by Laura Engelhardt

  “He’s doing well,” Ted said, sitting down. But his blank expression made Amy wonder how truthful he was being.

  “When did that ceremony take place, I don’t remember what you called it—”

  “The Binding Ritual? That was a few weeks ago. It went well. Everything as planned. Rachael, Barry’s mother, was thrilled at having hosted the event of the year. No adult has been first-bound since the Danjou Enclave was formed back in the 1700s.”

  “And Barry is adjusting to being back home all right?”

  “As well as can be expected,” Ted replied cryptically.

  “You’re full of non-answers,” Amy accused.

  “Amy, I just got back.” Ted wiped his hand over his face, and she could see signs of strain that matched her own. “Give me a chance to get my head back in this game, and we can start jousting again.”

  “Sorry. It does seem like you’ve been gone a long time.” Amy sat back down in her chair. Leaning forward, she gestured at the stack of print-outs, and Ted dutifully looked over at them.

  “You wouldn’t believe how quickly these military folks can move once they have their marching orders. Within a week after you left, the DoD had rolled out the screening program. We’re getting dozens of new MRIs to review every day now. The goal is to have every member of some elite unit scanned by March. Well, everyone who isn’t geas-bound. One of your elders made that a condition. But we’ve already reviewed more than a thousand different scans, and it’s all we can do to keep up with the volume. In any event, I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Well, I can at least help review the MRIs,” Ted said.

  “Thank God for that! And even though you weren’t here these last months, it was worth it that you stayed in Hesperia. With the follow-up fMRI you were able to send, we were finally able to rule out Arnie’s theory that the nerve grafts somehow impacted the flow of electrical impulses. Now at least he can stop fixating on neuron disruption as the probable cause.”

  They shared a smile at Arnie’s single-mindedness. He could be brilliant at times, and was like a dog with a bone when convinced of something.

  “I’m glad they arrived okay,” Ted said, still smiling.

  “So while I’m glad you stayed with our patient, it’s been hard trying to move forward without talking to you. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  Ted sighed. “Let’s just say it’s complicated. The less Elder Simon was aware I wanted to return, the easier it was to actually get back here. In his mind, I think being outside the enclave is more punishment than reward. Keeping you and the team at a distance made it easier for him to decide I needed to go back.”

  “I thought you said he considered the operation a ‘qualified success.’”

  “No, the other elders do. Nothing short of perfect will ever satisfy Elder Simon. He’s still angry that his son can’t cast — though it’s way too soon, in my opinion. And for good or ill, I’m being held responsible.”

  “And I thought academics were cutthroat,” Amy murmured. “Well, we’re both glad you’re back. Maybe all your experience with crazy politics will help us figure out what’s going on with the DoD.”

  Ted arched his eyebrows. “Oh?”

  “They want a progress update almost every day now. ‘Did we find anyone? Are we ready to do a second operation?’ The same questions, but they’re really putting on the pressure. Something has changed, but they won’t say what. Eli flies to D.C. constantly now. But his view is that nothing has really changed — just that more senior people at the DoD have gotten wind of the project.”

  “That’s possible,” Ted opined. “If the Joint Chiefs have taken an interest, that could explain the extra pressure — and their own alacrity in carrying out their end of the project.”

  “Commander Thompson has actually begun calling me directly, would you believe it?” Amy complained. “And to think I used to be a little peeved that he would only talk to Eli. I owe Eli a debt of gratitude that he spared me from all that before.”

  “I thought Thompson was supposed to be here with you? ‘Training,’” Ted intoned sarcastically, making air-quotes as he repeated Villar’s directive.

  “That didn’t last long,” Amy replied. “Thompson was quick to bow out. Villar has to know his suggestion that Thompson perform this surgery is ludicrous. Thompson at least knows there’s no way in hell he could perform this kind of operation. But I’m glad he’s managing the scanning program. He’s got his team working hard. They’re very good, too.”

  “Have you been thinking about the DoD’s grand scheme?”

  “How could I not?” Amy answered rhetorically. “Thompson’s anxious. I think that’s why he’s started reaching out to me directly. Trying to build up some kind of rapport so he can convince me to go. Or to send Graham or Arnie.”

  “You can still get out,” Ted said. “If the DoD can mount this kind of search for another patient, they can find a military or ex-military neurosurgeon to come train with your team.”

  “It’s not that simple, Ted. I wish it were,” Amy sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Or maybe I don’t. I can’t say that I’ve ever truly been indispensable before.”

  “No one is indispensable,” Ted said flatly.

  “No, but some people are easier to replace than others. This is not an easy surgery to learn or perform. Graham can do it. I’d even let him operate on me for that matter, he’s that good. But I wouldn’t trust Arnie to do it solo, and I can’t imagine any military neurosurgeon has had the specialized training, let alone the experience, that we’ve had.

  “That said, I’m sure the DoD is working on contingency plans. When Thompson first started calling me, I thought he was going to tell me that they had found another doctor to join the team. But so far, nothing.”

  “Graham’s that good, huh?” Ted asked.

  “He’s perhaps the best surgeon I’ve ever worked with — let alone trained. But I’d never ask one of my doctors to go somewhere I’m not willing to go.”

  “A true leader,” Ted said, without a hint of teasing in his voice.

  Amy blushed. “It’s not that. It’s just wrong. Besides, Graham has a wife and two kids. He’s got a lot more to lose than I do.”

  “Just because you don’t have a family doesn’t mean you don’t have a lot to lose.”

  “You aren’t married, are you?” Amy asked.

  “No. I’ve avoided that commitment fairly adroitly.”

  Amy’s intercom beeped. “Amy, your sister is on line one. Do you want me to tell her you’ll call her back?” Gillian asked.

  “Speaking of family …” Ted said, standing up. “I just stopped by to let you know I was back. We can catch up later.”

  “Okay,” Amy said, waiting until Ted walked out, shutting the door softly behind him, before picking up the phone. “Put her through,” she told Gillian. It had to be Mary. Even though she had two sisters, only Mary called her office line. Despite asking Cordelia numerous times to call her work number, Cordy always called her cell. She loved her sisters, but birth order was inescapable: Mary would always be dictatorial, and Cordy the spoiled baby.

  “Hi, Mary,” Amy said.

  “Amy, I’m glad I got you. You’ve been so busy, it seems.” Mary’s voice had a warm undercurrent to it. She’d been a fairly successful singer before leaving the performance circuit to marry Mike.

  “I know. It never seems to stop.”

  “Well, that’s why I’m calling. I spoke to Cordy earlier today. She and Thomas are both coming for Thanksgiving this year. If you can drag yourself away, we’d be able to spend the holiday together.”

  That was a surprise. Cordelia and Thomas rarely both made the trip in for Christmas, let alone Thanksgiving. Even before Thomas had started his Brazilian tourism business, he’d been a bit of a global playboy, using his inheritance from Mom’s death to fund exotic trips. It seemed a bit of an empty life to Amy, so she’d been happy (and Thomas had seemed a lot happier) after he started his business. She a
lways meant to visit him and try it out, but never seemed to find the time. When this project was finished, Amy decided, she would finally go to Salvador.

  “I don’t know if I can get away this year, Mary. Will the kids be there?” Amy adored her niece and nephew. She was Alicia’s godmother, but loved spoiling both of Mary’s children outrageously. Cordelia was John’s godmother, and while Amy knew she loved being an aunt, she almost never came on the holidays or graduations or any significant event — too many people.

  Cordy had been diagnosed with agoraphobia as a child, and they’d spent much of their childhood catering to her fear of crowds. But she’d adapted. Underwater photography was the perfect thing for Cordelia: isolated and in the sea. They’d grown up on the coast, and while they all loved the water, Cordelia had been half-dolphin from birth. Mary jokingly called Cordy their ‘Jacques Cordelia,’ after the famous French explorer, Jacques Cousteau.

  “John just started his new job, so he won’t be able to come for such a short visit, but Alicia will be there. She could use your advice on which semester-abroad program to pick for next term. The deadline is coming up.” Mary always knew the best way to cajole Amy into a visit.

  Amy wavered. She knew that after Alicia graduated, she might not be able to spend the holidays with them so easily. And it was only a few days, really. She could come back on Saturday, so she wouldn’t miss too much time in the lab. “Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll come. But don’t expect me to cook.”

  “Don’t threaten to cook!” Mary responded with mock horror.

  “It’s late to book a flight, but maybe I’ll splurge this year.”

  “The thing is, we’re doing it at Mom’s house.”

  Now that Mary had hooked her into agreeing to come down, she dropped that bomb. After Dad’s death, Mom had avoided all the publicity by taking them to a distant relative’s house on a remote island; then they moved to a tiny village on the outer banks. They kept the house after Mom died so that she and Cordy would have a home to come back to when they weren’t at school. But now, Mary was really the only one of them who ever used it. She’d actually just finished a huge renovation, so Amy supposed she shouldn’t be too surprised that Mary would want to show it off.

  “Mary, it’s just so hard to get there.” Amy knew she was whining, but didn’t care.

  Mary was unsympathetic. “Use some of the millions you never spend to charter a plane.”

  Like her siblings, Amy had received sizable insurance settlements from her father’s death. But Mary was right: Amy never spent money on anything. Probably because her circle didn’t include anyone who lived that kind of lifestyle. No one she knew carried Prada bags, or wore red-soled shoes, or flew first class. They were academics, flaunting their own peculiar form of status symbols: titles, accolades, awards and citations. Amy actually went out of her way to avoid ostentatious displays of wealth. It was hard enough quieting the whispers that she’d slept her way to tenure, or flirted her way to a book deal, without adding independently wealthy to the checklist of reasons why Amy Bant didn’t deserve to be where she was.

  But traveling at Thanksgiving was a nightmare even under the best of circumstances. It was the off-season in Ocracoke, and since Cordelia was coming, it would probably be better for them to convene at the beach house anyway. Honestly, chartering a plane probably wouldn’t be that much more expensive than finding a commercial ticket this close to Thanksgiving, and she’d be able to get back to the lab a lot quicker.

  “I was planning to charter a flight anyway,” Amy replied archly. While Mary probably knew she hadn’t been planning any such thing, it wouldn’t do to give her older sister the satisfaction of knowing that she’d yet again organized Amy’s life for her.

  “I’m glad that’s settled,” Mary said. “What’s up with you? Why are you still working ’round the clock?”

  “How do you know I’m working ’round the clock?” Amy countered.

  “Because this is the first time you’ve picked up, and I’ve been leaving messages with your assistant since Halloween. I knew you must be obsessed with something — you usually at least call me back.”

  Amy sighed. “It’s a long story. We can talk about it at Thanksgiving.”

  “You have to go; I get it.”

  Amy felt a pang of guilt, even though there was no hint of reproach in Mary’s tone. Perhaps that was it: Mary did understand. She always forgave, and she asked for so little. Mary was so much like a saint that Amy hated her sometimes. But she turned away from her monitors and looked out the window, the coils of the phone cord kinking in protest. “I just don’t want to talk about work. It seems like all I do is talk about MRIs and occipital lobe anatomy. Tell me what’s going on with you. Aren’t you planning the big Christmas concert at the cathedral this year?”

  “That’s right. It’s been crazy. You’d think conducting a children’s choir would be easier than working with adults, but it’s not. At least with adult choirs, you don’t have parents to deal with.”

  “You need to be tougher. The National Children’s Choir is one of the most prestigious children’s choirs in the country. Be a little more of a maestro and a little less of a mattress,” Amy suggested, and Mary laughed.

  “It’s not that easy. But I have gotten a lot less tolerant of the parents’ shenanigans over the years. I’m just not a tyrannical person.”

  “Even when you were a diva, you weren’t a diva,” Amy smiled.

  “True. Anyway, it’s good to finally talk to you. Mike has been obsessed with this case that’s finally wrapping up — it’s been a nasty piece of work, and I’ll be glad when it’s completely finished. But I know he’ll want to talk to you about it at Thanksgiving. Now that you’ve been working with mages, he thinks you’re the expert on them too.”

  “Mike’s working on a case with mages?” Mary’s husband, Mike, was a truth-teller, one of those rare changelings whose fae gifts were limited to serving as a living lie-detector. Although Amy was generally a truthful person, she was very glad she wasn’t married to Mike. He could have made a killing in the private sector, but instead chose to work for the government. Maybe this Thanksgiving, she could pick his brain for tips on getting along with military types.

  “The case involves spells, not mages directly,” Mary replied. “After all, they police their own. But a key witness in his case was apparently bespelled, and Mike has been up in arms over it.”

  Mike was an upright guy and Amy had always liked him. They were kindred spirits: the family considered her overly-serious, and Mike was so stiff he oozed honor out of every pore. “I’m not sure I actually know all that much about mages, but it’ll be interesting to hear about his case, for sure,” Amy said.

  “That’s great. I won’t keep you much longer. But you should definitely plan on coming for Christmas too. Cordy and Thomas have both bowed out — maybe that’s why they’re making such an effort to come next week.” Mary was relentless.

  Amy smiled. No matter how busy she was, she never wanted to spend another Christmas alone again. When she was younger, she occasionally drew the short straw and had to cover Christmas at the hospital. Now she could set her own schedule, more or less. “You know I wouldn’t dream of skipping Christmas. I don’t even own any decorations — I’m always with you. But why can’t they make it?”

  “Well, Cordy has a new project in the Mediterranean. You should ask her about it. She didn’t sound all that excited, really. But I thought it sounded amazing. Thomas is apparently launching some new thing for skydivers, so he can’t get away this year. But at least we’ll all be together for Thanksgiving. I can’t wait to show you how great everything came out!”

  Amy felt a sudden wave of gratitude for Mary’s persistence in keeping their family together. But for her efforts, Amy suspected that she would have completely lost touch with her siblings; she often forgot to call Cordelia and Thomas. It was such a shame; she and Cordy had been so close growing up. She should call her. Thomas too. But
first, Amy was determined to show her gratitude by feigning intense interest in Mary’s remodeling choices.

  The Mediterranean is often compared with Switzerland, as a result of their long history of neutrality during intra-siren conflicts. Home to the birthplace of sirens, the Mediterraneans permit sirens of all oceans to visit, with the proviso that any conflicts be left outside their water’s borders. In part due to their policy of extreme welcome, the Mediterranean has become the most popular siren tourist destination. The festival of Aphrodite in April is perhaps their most famous festival, with parties held almost daily throughout the month. However, their New Year’s celebrations are also quite popular, and the total siren population during these times can swell to more than triple its usual size.

  – Sirens: An Overview for the Newly-Transitioned, 3rd ed. (2015), by Mira Bant de Atlantic, p. 203.

  Chapter 13

  Thomas danced among the hundreds of guests crowding the floor below with a looseness that Cordelia envied. Even when she wasn’t as anxious as she was now, she had never been as able to be as in the moment as her older brother. She leaned on the balcony rail, sipping her watered-down wine as she let her gaze slip from person to person.

  There were almost five hundred guests at Queen Sophia’s New Year’s Eve celebration in the famed Grotto of Aphrodite. The term “Grotto” was a serious misnomer in Cordelia’s opinion, because the room was anything but intimate. This grotto was the largest, most modern ballroom Cordelia had ever seen, inserted into the shell of an ancient Byzantine temple. A balcony ran around the perimeter of the upper story, where guests could get a better view of both the dancers below, as well as the ornate tilework on the surrounding sandstone walls.

  The elaborate murals of Aphrodite’s life that ran across the ceiling were carefully illuminated by glittering pin lights that made the images seem almost alive. Instead of a chandelier, the centerpiece of the room was a massive gilt dome that opened to the sky. The circumference of the opening was perhaps twenty feet in diameter, and the oddly intense moonlight shone down like a spotlight on the dancers below.