Sirens Unbound

by Laura Engelhardt

  “Vampires may have lost their mage-sight, but they are like fortune-tellers when it comes to predicting how long a person will live,” she said, rolling her shoulders back. “How can they know to only take one day or one month or one year of someone’s life if they don’t know precisely how long that life will be? The terms of the indenture specified a day for a day. No more, no less.

  “And what’s twenty years of my life anyway? I knew when I agreed that after Gerel taught me the spells for cellular renewal, I’d outlive my family by at least a hundred years …” Kyoko’s voice trailed off.

  Thomas took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. She smiled at him, shaking off whatever bad memory had momentarily captured her. “Sometime last year, the pain of Gerel’s daily takings increased. So slightly, I didn’t notice at first. Maybe Gerel began stealing only a few extra minutes or an hour. So gradual. But I started to notice. And I started to believe the rumors.”

  “The rumors that a mage indentured to a vampire won’t survive their term?” Thomas asked, and Kyoko nodded. “That’s in all the movies I’ve seen. But then, in the movies, the vampires drink blood.” Thomas kept his voice light. Kyoko was trying hard and he didn’t want to push, but he had to know what risks she faced in order to keep her safe. And if Gerel had been the first to break their terms, then whatever killing Kyoko had done to break her binding would be justified even before a mage adjudicator. “Thank God you broke free. Was the binder in service to Gerel too?”

  “The binder?” Kyoko seemed confused by the conversation’s change in direction. “I don’t think he even lives in Rio. Gerel never mentioned him to me, at least. I know he bound me more tightly than most apprentices, because Gerel can’t cast anymore; I remember her demanding that. But I haven’t seen him since I was fourteen.”

  Now Thomas was confused. “But how did you kill him if you didn’t see him?” Kyoko still looked perplexed and he clarified, “Didn’t you battle him? The great working?”

  “I broke my indenture. That’s all. I didn’t kill the mage who worked the binding. At least, I don’t think I did. I didn’t try to. Gerel didn’t trust the mages in her service to work bindings; she always used a contractor.”

  “You broke your indenture,” Thomas repeated. “You broke the magical binding itself. But not by killing the mage who forged it? I thought that was impossible.”

  Kyoko shrugged. “Necessity. Desperation, maybe. I don’t know. I was always taught it was impossible. But it isn’t. It’s just very difficult. Maybe if I had been indentured to a mage, they would have known what I was trying to do and stopped me. But Gerel is blind.”

  Thomas shunted aside his amazement to concentrate on the main problem. “Can Gerel track you, though? Or the other mages in her service? You were worried on the phone.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. She’s been able to track others whose lives she’s eaten. Her connection fades with time. She wouldn’t be able to track you now. She only nibbled on your life, after all, and it was so long ago. But she knows where I am.”

  Thomas stood up. “That’s what I was afraid of. This house is secure, but it’s not a fortress. I expected her last night, but it’s been a day and a half since you came, and we’re a thousand miles north. Perhaps she doesn’t care enough to fetch you personally.”

  “Oh, I doubt she would come personally. She can’t, really. She can’t leave Rio without forfeiting it to the other vampires who itch to unseat her.” Kyoko looked worried. “But she can’t afford the insult either. She’ll have to do something. Send someone.”

  “Who does she have to send?” Thomas had closed the shutters in the dining room also, out of deference to Kyoko’s condition. Now he crossed the room and opened them a bit more to look out.

  The dining room led out onto his back patio, and the closed rear gate was visible in the left corner of the wall. The guard was on high alert, behind a barricade two yards in front of the gate, with an automatic M240B machine gun ready. The day was bright and beautiful, with barely a cloud in the sky. “If she isn’t coming herself, then a daytime assault is possible. Do you know who or what kind of person might owe her? Mages? Weres? Army?” Thomas continued to look outside.

  “All of them. But I don’t know. I didn’t think.” Kyoko sounded worried and Thomas crossed back to take her hands and draw her to her feet.

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m so glad you’re here.” Kyoko leaned into his chest, and Thomas wrapped his arms around her, barely touching her head with his chin. He almost lost himself in the peace of the moment.

  Kyoko broke away first. “I wasn’t thinking. Before. I didn’t really have a plan. Didn’t know that I could unravel the binding. Then I was just so tired.” She stopped speaking and pulled away.

  Thomas came back into the moment with a decisive clarity that came from having only one priority now: Kyoko’s safety. “We have to go. Now.” There was only one place that would be safe enough. Only one possible route to travel.

  Thomas led the way down the tunnel to the sea. His house was only a few hundred feet from the high-water mark of the beach, and the tunnel itself was typically filled with sea water. But when Thomas opened the hatch, the water receded to let them walk its length. They climbed back out onto a rocky part of the tree-lined beach. Kyoko paused as Thomas stepped into waves gently lapping at the shore.

  “Thomas,” she said. “I can’t swim very well.” Kyoko gulped.

  “That won’t matter. Do you trust me?” He held out his hand and Kyoko nodded. Thomas said, “The ocean loves me, and I love you. All will be well.”

  Kyoko took his hand, and he drew her slowly into the warm water until it came up to her waist. Her dress billowed up around them as Thomas stepped further into the waves, which seemed to have calmed for them. He pulled her close and turned to look out to the horizon.

  “Climb on my back, and I’ll take you there. I have a boat waiting about three miles off-shore. It won’t be long.”

  Kyoko reached and wrapped her arms around his neck. Despite the urgency of the moment, Thomas relished the feel of her arms around him, her body dependent on him. He launched them into the water. The sea enveloped them and propelled them forward.

  They had only gone maybe half a mile when the sky darkened for a moment, as if with a sudden cloud cover. Thomas had barely registered the change before the world brightened with a sudden halogen intensity that caused him to pause a heartbeat before the deafening sound of an explosion reached them. The water rippled as a wave of force dissipated along its surface.

  Thomas looked back. If Kyoko said anything, he couldn’t hear her over the ringing in his ears. He stared, confused. His house was gone. He treaded water for a moment in shock as he stared at the red-orange glow where it used to be. Black smoke curled into the sky, and suddenly he could again hear the sound of the water lapping gently at his shoulder.

  He couldn’t look away from shore though; the gap in the landscape where his house had been was suffused in a hazy glow, and he thought perhaps his house would be there again when the air cleared. But it wasn’t. Thomas had built his home to be his fortress, impregnable and secure. But it was as if nothing had ever been there. This kind of absolute destruction could not have come from anything so mundane as a bomb.

  “Battle mage,” Kyoko breathed in his ear.

  “My God,” gasped Thomas. The reality of the moment caught up with him, and he swiftly turned away from the scene. The Atlantic redoubled its efforts, pulling them so fast a deep wake of white-churned water trailed behind.

  In coastal regions (defined as within fifty kilometers from an ocean) it is estimated that one out of every eight mundanes is a latent siren. While latent sirens can procreate with humans and fae alike, the most common pairing are with other latent partners, changelings, fae, and mundanes, in that order. Latent/mage pairings are rare, and usually do not result in children. There has never been a reported case of a child born of mixed construct heritage (i.e. siren/were).


  – Sirens: An Overview for the Newly-Transitioned, 3rd ed. (2015), by Mira Bant de Atlantic, p. 63.

  Chapter 20

  “Mary, let’s go out this week. It’s been a long time since we went out,” Mike said as he headed downstairs.

  “Summer auditions are going to start soon,” Mary called down. Mike was running late again. This spring, Mary’s schedule shifted later, so she was no longer getting up at six a.m. When she didn’t prod him, he had trouble getting out of bed.

  “I know. That’s why I’m saying we should go out now — things have slowed down a bit for me, so we should go on a date night or something again. It’s been too long.”

  Mary caught the gist of what Mike was saying without hearing every word. Their narrow townhouse had too many levels to keep shouting at one another. “Okay,” Mary called down. She didn’t bother telling Mike she’d make the reservations; he would know that she always handled that.

  Mike’s phone rang as he was looking for his keys. He hoped it would be Christine, letting him know that his nine a.m. had canceled. But it was an unknown number on the caller ID. No such luck.

  “Hello, Michael Arnold?” Mike didn’t recognize the man’s voice.

  “Who is this?” Mike asked, looking through his jacket pockets for his car keys.

  “My name is Lieutenant Steve Allen. Your office gave me your cell.”

  “Okay,” Mike said noncommittally. Given his security clearance, the DOJ loaned him out from time to time to other agencies. He never wanted to work with the CIA again, but his engagements with the DoD had generally been good. At least the officers he had worked with seemed to lie a little less often than members of other federal agencies, which made for a much more comfortable working relationship.

  “I spoke with Ms. Watkins and she approved a temporary assignment. There is a meeting we need you for at the Pentagon today.”

  “This is highly unusual, Lieutenant.” This was the first time Mike had ever been called in by the DoD on such short notice; it had happened once before with the CIA, and he never wanted to listen to anything like that again.

  “I realize that, Mr. Arnold, but you are the only truth-teller with sufficient security clearance and skill. It’s last minute, but I assure you, I wouldn’t be calling you if it weren’t extremely important.”

  While phrased politely, Mike had worked with enough members of the military to hear the request as the order it was. “Lieutenant, I am not part of the armed services. Nor am I part of the Department of Defense or the CIA. There are some matters that I should not know about — regardless of my security clearance.”

  “Mr. Arnold, I assure you that this is not that kind of meeting.”

  Mike sighed; he couldn’t be sure what kind of meeting it would be, but at least he wouldn’t be late for his nine a.m.; he was sure Christine would have already canceled it.

  “I appreciate the clarification,” Mike said carefully. “Just let me know where and when.” He jotted down the information, then called his own boss to find out exactly what the DoD’s request had been.

  “Do you need to be in the room, or can you just observe from outside the door?” Major General Hayden asked.

  Lieutenant Allen had escorted Mike to the enormous but rather empty briefing room, introduced him to the waiting Major General, then quickly left. Mike was nonplussed at meeting such a senior official alone, without any preparation or warning. He was also surprised that the Major General had been waiting for him, instead of the other way around. This whole set-up was at odds with all of his other interactions with the DoD.

  “I can’t be completely sure of the subject’s veracity unless I can hear and watch them without the aid of amplification or video. Even glasses can interfere with my perception. How accurate a report do you need?” Mike hated working on projects with people who failed to give him any context, and this surprise assignment was starting to look like one of those. It was impossible to do your best work when they treated you like a human machine.

  “I want to know the truth, which is why I asked for a truth-teller,” Major General Hayden said wryly. “All right then. You’ll sit with me, but I won’t introduce you beyond giving your name. You shouldn’t say anything at the meeting. I’ll answer for you if it comes to that. How much detail on the subject’s veracity can you provide?”

  “Sir, it’s important that you understand that I can only recognize the truth as the subject believes it to be. Reality can often be quite different. If a witness believes that the sky is brown and says so, I’ll hear only truth. But my hearing truth won’t change the color of the sky.”

  “Yes. That was explained to me already. I understand that limitation. Our concern is really about what the subject believes. Whether the subject is shading the truth. Misdirection, that kind of thing. Your boss told me that you are quite skilled at identifying nuances.”

  “I’m not simply a human lie detector, sir,” Mike said, nettled, despite his resolution not to let the man get to him. “The reason I’m so valued by the DOJ is because I can recognize any deception, something few truth-tellers are able to do. I can tell when people shade the truth, when they exaggerate or understate. I can tell the difference between an exaggeration or understatement and an absolute mistruth. However, while a subject’s intent to deceive will be apparent, I can’t discern the truth or falsity in what they do not say. Misdirection is still completely possible.”

  Hayden nodded along with Mike’s explanation. “That’s sufficient.”

  “Sir, a little context would help. The more information I have, the easier it will be for me to make nuanced distinctions.”

  Hayden thought for a moment. “Fine. The subject is Elder Hilda Lefran. At my request, she is coming here today to explain in detail the specifics of a supposed breakthrough she has made. I need to know whether she’s exaggerating about what her new spell can do in any way. We also believe the enclave received certain key intelligence reports, which they have told us repeatedly they did not receive.

  “I’m not a truth-teller, Mr. Arnold. But I have a pretty good sense of when someone is hiding something. And I have long thought that the Danjou Enclave has been hiding too much from us.” Hayden’s change in demeanor was refreshing. He was also extremely honest; that was a relief. “I’ve heard good things about your work, Mr. Arnold. But I wouldn’t have pulled all the strings I did to have you here today if it weren’t absolutely necessary.”

  “Sir, I don’t know whether you are testing me, but you are exaggerating. You don’t believe it is absolutely necessary that I am here today and you didn’t pull any strings, at least insofar as you think of pulling strings.”

  Hayden looked taken aback for a moment, then smiled broadly. “My God, that was amazing. If I didn’t think I needed you before, that clinches it. Maybe I should keep you on staff permanently. Can you give me any of that insight while the meeting is going on? Like if you sit next to me, tap me on the arm or something? Do you have any codes that you’ve used before?”

  “It’s not that easy to learn signals when you haven’t practiced,” Mike said warily. “But there are some simple codes we use on the rare occasion the attorneys don’t want the subject to know they are being monitored.” Most of the time, the whole point of Mike being there was to make sure the witnesses knew they had to tell the absolute truth. The only time they ever used signals was when they weren’t sure whether or not they wanted to flip a particular witness.

  “Good, good. Let’s get started. We only have a little while before they get here. Let me get Lieutenant Allen and Colonel Cox in here to help us practice.”

  By the time the meeting started, Mike was rather impressed with Major General Hayden. He must have played baseball, because he picked up very quickly on how to watch for Mike’s slight signals without losing focus on the conversation.

  It felt odd to be in such a large briefing room with only four people. The thermostat had clearly been set for the comfort of people in wool uniforms, so t
he chill made it even more uncomfortable.

  The subject was a mage, which Mike had realized as soon as he heard her name. He couldn’t recall previously reading a mage; seeing her now, he felt a new sense of trepidation. Elder Hilda Lefran was a tall, heavy-set woman who looked to be in her late thirties. She had a ruddy complexion with close-cropped brown hair. Her eyes were the most striking thing about her: they were such an extremely pale shade of blue, her pupils looked almost lost in their depth. Her white pantsuit was made out of a peculiar material that shimmered when the light struck it in just the right way. Perhaps there were silver or steel threads woven into it. Mike figured a mage would wear a unique kind of armor.

  Colonel Cox had escorted Elder Hilda into the room. The colonel was an older woman, with a lean frame and lined face. While Mike wasn’t overly familiar with all the decorations on dress uniforms, he at least knew that Colonel Cox was Air Force and Major General Hayden, Army. It was interesting that they weren’t in the same branch. The other DoD projects he had worked on had only included people in the same branch.

  “At your request, Elder Hilda, we limited this meeting to three people on our side. This is our most secure room at the Pentagon, but if you feel the need, please feel free to inspect it yourself.” Hayden swept his hand around the room in an invitation.

  Hilda said coolly, “I can see from here, Major General, that all is in order. While it is a large space for such a small group, when I explain where we are on Project Hurricane, I think you will agree that such precautions were worthwhile.” Truth.

  The group moved to sit at the large table, with Colonel Cox seated at one corner between Major General Hayden and Elder Hilda, and Mike seated at the General’s right hand. Mike had a clear view of Elder Hilda’s face from this vantage, and sat slightly askew so that Hayden could see him out of his peripheral vision.