Siren Daughter

by Cassie Day

  In the chaos, Charon pulls me to my feet. People rush into our path. A few shove him. He braces his feet wide, his jaw clenched tight. He’s shielding me from them. Shielding me from the chimera now a glimpse of golden fur across the people-filled square.

  “Sing to it,” he says. Pain laces his voice.

  I pat his chest, sides, and back. His cotton tunic crumbles beneath my hands. Near his spine, patches of skin bubble into blisters.

  “I can’t,” I say. “The first trial ruined my hearing. Will you be okay?”

  “Better me than you. I’ll heal.”

  Over his shoulder, the chimera shoves through the crowd, still panting. It can’t use its fire. Not until it catches its breath. Now it’ll use claws and talons.

  I push at Charon’s shoulder. “Run!”

  He stumbles. Then bursts into a run. He drags me by my hand, putting me between him and the buildings.

  Stone grinds against my shoulder, scraping it raw. I grit my teeth and keep running. An alleyway entrance barely wide enough for his broad shoulders leads to the town outskirts a handful of steps ahead.

  I tug on Charon’s hand. He doesn’t slow.

  “I can’t leave the town!”

  His head jerks in a short nod. He skirts around the alleyway entrance and those streaming toward it, moving along the outside edge of the square.

  We move against the masses of running people. They jostle against my shoulders, shoving me back and forth. I stumble. Charon’s grip on my hand becomes bruising. My shoulder joint aches. The pull of me against the crowd is too much.

  A bellow. People turn frantic, pushing and trampling anything in their path. A series of shoves. I fall to my knees. Charon’s hand rips from mine.

  Feet pound in every direction. I flinch back. There’s no escape. A sandal stomps on my calf. Another on my dress. The fabric tears. The noise is lost to my aching ears and the chaos.

  Hands beneath my arms. Charon. He lifts me while bracing himself against the crowd. Anyone who pushes too close gets a harsh jab of his elbow in retaliation.

  A final burst of people. Then the crowd trickles to nothing. We’re left exposed, the chimera a leap away.

  Gasping for air, I force my knees to stop shaking. We have to fight.

  The chimera’s thick hide and curved claws. The hissing snake head oozing venom.

  We have no weapons. I gulp. Every part of me shakes.

  The chimera glances between us. Its golden eyes glow, reflecting the fire steadily spreading around the square through thatched roofs. Muscles coil tight in hind legs covered with rounded scales.

  I tear free from Charon, push him away, and sprint to one side. He stumbles in the other direction. The chimera lands between us. Claws scratch against the stone. Sparks pop from a roof on fire, landing in clusters at its feet.

  The chimera turns, intent on me. I lean one way. Then the other. Its gaze stays on me and me alone.

  Charon edges toward its back end. Though its ears swivel his way, it doesn’t turn from stalking toward me. He closes in on its tail, a steel dagger glinting in his hands.

  I stumble back. The chimera doesn’t turn. A low, rumbling snarl starts in its throat. Bits of fire spark around its mouth.

  Charon’s dagger slices into its tail. Venom splatters from the snake head at the tip, landing on his tunic. Yellow smoke streams from the burning fabric, then burning skin.

  His slice wasn’t enough. Though the tail bleeds close to the tip, the snake head isn’t severed.

  The chimera roars. But no matter how many times he slices into its swinging tail or back end, it doesn’t turn.

  Why? I hold no weapon. I have no way to harm it.

  Charon’s words return. I’ll heal, I mouth to myself. The chimera knows he’s something more than mortal. Knows he’s someone who will heal from wounds. It understood him.

  “Agathe!” Charon shouts.

  A dark blur darts in front of me. Knife against flesh. Flesh against claws. The sound echoes in my mind. Wetness spurts into the smokey air. Lands against my face and dress.

  I swipe a hand across my face. It comes back covered in blood.

  The chimera lurches backward, dagger embedded deep into its side. It lunged at me! In my thoughts, I stopped paying attention. In one swoop of its claws, I could’ve died.

  Then my stare moves. To my feet, where Charon lies on his back, each breath rattling. Blood oozes from gashes on his chest, each one shaped like the chimera’s claws. I drop to my knees. Try to hold his wounds closed with trembling hands.

  “I’m fine,” he says, gasping.

  Gods, one of his lunges is visible. With each gasp it inflates, the pink-red tissue stretching tight. Blood pours over my hands. My vision warps. Everything turns into a blur of blood and fire.

  “Stop,” Charon says. “I’ll heal. Give it time.”

  And as he says it, his skin and tissue slowly weave back together. No fast enough; with each strand reconnecting, the chimera prowls closer.

  Charon’s eyelids flutter closed. His ashen face slackens. His lung keeps moving. His heartbeat is still a constant thrum beneath my hands. He’ll live, I remind myself.

  Will I?

  Standing, I wobble to the side, away from his prone body. The chimera follows, a clear limp in its stride. The blade sliced through a tendon.

  It understood Charon’s words. Does it not attack because there’s no use attacking an immortal? Or is there something else?

  I can’t get close to enough to pull the dagger free. My back lines up with a narrow alleyway I spotted earlier. I keep moving until I stop three steps to its side. Look around as if cornered.

  The chimera’s lip lifts in a silent snarl.

  I burst into movement. Sprinting into the alleyway, I pump my legs until my breaths come in heaving gasps. Fates willing, no one will be in my way.

  The click of claws. The chimera giving chase. Too-warm breaths pant against my calves. I put on another burst of speed.

  A corner ahead. Not a curved, gracious one. I’m not so lucky. It’s a jagged turn fraught with houses on all sides. The thatched roofs are dark. The fire hasn’t reached this far.

  But I can use the corner to my advantage. Hopefully.

  A clatter of steel against stone. The dagger has worked free from its side.

  I run until a house is straight ahead. Twist until one shoulder slams into the house. The rough exterior scrapes against my skin. I pivot into a wider street on the other end of the corner. I ignore the sting of another scrape to pump my legs faster.

  The chimera smashes into the house. The house holds; the chimera does not. Bones break with a snap. Joints wrench out of place with a pop.

  I grin, looking over my shoulder.

  The chimera stands one stumbling step at a time. Bones snap, healing themselves. It slams itself into the houses on each side. They shake beneath its strength. Joints pop back into place. Its pupils dilate. Muscles coil.

  I turn my head back around. Sweat slides across my skin only to be cooled by the night air. A cluster of lanterns swing from poles ahead. No other light except for the homes lit from hearths within. Everything is stretched shadows and grotesque shapes.

  I twist to the side mid-run. Duck under a clothesline. Fabric brushes against my cheeks. Jump over a low wall. Turn and pivot until I’m sure the chimera is left behind.

  But its panting breaths return. Hot puffs of air stream against my neck. One leap and I’ll be dead.

  Another corner. Claws scrape against stone. I glance back. It uses speed to leap against the nearest house wall, then jump off and keep running.

  My lungs squeeze tight. Sweat covers every inch of my skin. I can’t run for much longer. One more sprint and I’ll be finished.

  I pump my arms and legs. Duck toward the nearest house spilling light across the road. The door is cracked open. I rush through, slam the door closed behind me, and skid to a stop in the center of a humble house.

  A table surrounded by stools and a
threadbare rug. A bed with clean blankets but a ragged frame. The warmth of a hearth against my sweat-slick skin. A young boy leans against a single low window.

  He turns, mouth gaping open.

  Gods, its Bion. I’ve brought the chimera to Bion’s home. With the low light and lack of lanterns, I missed his paintings on the exterior wall.

  He leaps up, taller than I remember. Begins talking before I can shush him. “Agathe, you’re back! Why are you sweating? Are you all right?”

  The chimera slams into the closed door. The wood rattles within its frame.

  I stumble forward. Grab him by his shoulders. Force him behind me, backing us toward the window. When the chimera lunges, I’ll die, but he’ll make his escape.

  With a final slam, the door hinges snap clean in two.

  The chimera fills the doorway, all golden fur and snarling mouth.

  Bion shoves himself in front of me, arms spread. “I’ll protect you!” Then, with awe in his voice. “That’s a really big cat.”

  I reach for him with shaking hands, trying to pull him back. “No.”

  My arms are too weak after the run here.

  The chimera pauses, head tilted as it pants. I’m not the only one drained from the chase. It paces to one side. Bion follows, putting himself between us. Another pace to the other side; he follows again. It doesn’t lunge. It blinks once. Twice. Then plops onto the rug.

  It doesn’t want to hurt him.

  The chimera doesn’t want to hurt anyone except me.

  Can I reason with it?

  I have a choice. This creature is no different than me or my family. To gods like Zeus, we’re nothing but mindless beasts used for their gain.

  An untwisted path stretches before me; the one of using this weakness to slaughter it with the fire poker to my side.

  Or I can trek into the unknown. Try to save us both.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I say.

  Its head tilts, rounded ears pricked forward.

  I swallow. “And I have a feeling you don’t want to hurt me, not truly.”

  It listens, ears trained forward, but says nothing in return. Can it? Does its feline mouth have the ability to speak?

  But there’s something else I can try. Mind-speak.

  The chimera’s mind unfurls in a burst of color and thought.

  “Hello?” I say in my loudest mind-speak.

  Outwardly, it snorts. “No need to yell,” it says, a woman’s voice hoarse with disuse. A single paw stretches out, claws extending, then settles back onto the rug.

  “You understand!”

  Her voice colors with amusement. “Of course. Zeus is a poor judge of intelligence.”

  Despite the fear still coursing through my veins, I snort a laugh. “How can you mind-speak?”

  “Mind-speak? I guess that’s a fitting name.” She nearly cracks her jaw in a wide yawn. “I’m a creature like you. But where you sing, I adapt.”

  She lifts her furred tail. The snake tip transforms into a goat head, a spike, and a whip. All within the span of a moment. “Physical adaptation isn’t so different from the mental sort.”

  I lock my knees to stop their trembling. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “I should. Zeus can be rather...” she begins, then stops. Her upper lip curls in a sneer. “Compelling.”

  He has some sort of hold on her.

  “Whatever he promised you, he’ll twist it to his own ends.”

  “I expect as much.” She licks her chops with a flat tongue. “But to him I’m no better than a mindless beast. The barest sliver of freedom he’ll allow me is a gift.”

  I swallow, throat tight. “And killing will be worth such a gift?”

  “Wouldn’t you kill? If Zeus left you a sword, would you have run me through to gain whatever boon he’s promised?”

  “No,” I swipe a hand across my sweating brow. “Yes. I don’t know.”

  “Then you see where I stand.”

  “Is there nothing I can do to convince you to spare me?”

  “Perhaps.” Her head lifts toward the wane moonlight filtering through Bion’s home. How long has it been since she’s had fresh air against her fur? “Tell me a story.”

  “A story? What sort of story?”

  “Your story, siren.”

  Mouth crooking into a smile, I can’t stop a peal of laughter from escaping. Zeus told me my task. He gave her a command. He didn’t specify a time limit for either. He’ll grit his teeth into dust watching us waste his time.

  I seek the intelligent gleam in the chimera’s eye. How often she must find tiny loopholes in his commands! Respect blooms. There are worse claws to die by than hers.

  Bion tugs on my dress, brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s happening?”

  I lean down, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Run along, Bion. Find your parents. All is well.”

  “But—”

  I shove him toward the cracked doorway. “She won’t harm me, I promise.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “As sure as you are about the town cats being nice to you.”

  He nods. Then edges around the chimera, coasting a hand over her swinging tail. She turns, eyes the welcoming orange of a hearth.

  He smiles even as she nudges him out of his home. “Be a good cat!”

  He vanishes around the doorway.

  And with a nod, I begin my story.

  Chapter 40

  MY MOTHER’S DEATH. Nekros’ darkest depths and flowering fields. Charon. Desma and Hermes. Persephone and Demeter. Hades. My time in the Olympian Palace. Zeus, Hera, and their fracturing court. Cosmas’ execution. Even Molpe, uncaring of my tears dropping to the dirt.

  If this is my last chance to live, someone must hear the truth of my life. No matter how ugly the truth might be.

  The chimera listens, head rested on paws too large for her sleek body. She blinks sleepily but keen awareness remains. On the parts about Zeus and his trickery, her lips curl. Yet when I mention those lost and Charon’s gentle affection, her tense muscles go lax. I don’t doubt her empathy. Not once.

  When my story trails off with details about the chimera herself, she lifts to sit on her haunches. Yawns so big the back of her throat ripples.

  The night sky lies endless beyond the doorframe except for a spark of pale pink light on the horizon. Dawn approaches.

  “Enough,” she says.

  I nod. “Make it quick, will you?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Killing me. Make it quick.” I smile though it’s more of a grimace. “I won’t ask for painless. Death isn’t meant to be painless.”

  My muscles tense. Every sense becomes attuned to the chimera. A gusting sigh. The shuffle of paws in the dirt. The scent of animal sweat when she walks closer. A hint of copper when her breath gusts across my chest.

  “I won’t fight you,” she says.

  “Why?”

  She snorts. Whether it’s meant to be laughter or disbelief, I can’t guess.

  “Zeus will grant me the barest shred of freedom. It won’t be enough. It’s never enough. Will it be worth killing one not so different from me?”

  She leans forward until my whole world becomes her tapered snout. “No, it won’t. Besides, us creatures have to stick together.”

  She breaks into snorting laughter so different from her husky voice, I can’t help but join. Relief filters through. My body is light enough to flit away on the next gust of wind.

  Zeus’ trial is done. Not a violent defeat of the chimera, but she’s defeated all the same.

  Yet my next thought tears through my mind. Mouth pinched tight, I’m glad of having mind-speak. I can’t force my mouth to open.

  “What will happen to you?” I ask. Then, because calling her by a type of creature has needled at me these long minutes. “What’s your name?”

  She presses her head to my chest. Warmth pours from her skin to mine. Have I been so cold? Grateful, I wrap an arm around her thick neck and absorb her bo
dy heat.

  “I have no name. You may call me whatever you like. And I suppose Zeus will lock me away for a century, but I’ll survive.”

  Mind whirring, names pass through. Only one of them fits. “I’ll call you Sotiria.”

  I rub a hand across her furred ears, leaning my full weight onto her. She takes it with no complaint.

  “You should kill me.”

  Her snort of laughter cascades deliciously hot air across my skin. “Silly creature. I’ve already made my mind up. My freedom is not worth killing for.”

  She presses her head more firmly into my palm. When I scratch behind her ears, I’m rewarded with a rumbling purr. Her leg lifts, kicking at empty air.

  “And my victory isn’t worth sacrificing your freedom.”

  Sotiria sighs. “It is, don’t you see? Your victory will set a precedent. It will inspire hope. All creatures will come forth, hoping to win back what they’ve lost.” A brief growl. “And I won’t be lumped in with the likes of Zeus: those who kill to survive.”

  Surviving isn’t what I would call Zeus’ reign. Yet the more I think of him and his tightly-held power over the court—she’s right. He can be dethroned by any one of his children. The same way he dethroned his own father, a powerful Titan during the Titan War once upon a time.

  To secure his throne, he intimidates. Threatens. Kills.

  Even more, my thoughts buzz with the thought of more creatures. How many are hidden away? How many have lost everything due to his power-grasping?

  Sotiria is right. I wish she wasn’t.

  “I’ll help you, Sotiria,” I whisper into her mind. “Make your choice knowing you’ve secured an ally in me. A friend.”

  “I rather like this name business.” She backs away, mouth twisting into a wry smile. “I’ve never had a friend before. Thank you, Agathe.”

  Shaking my head, I shuffle away. My feet raise clouds of dirt and ash between us. Already the distance grows between us. Will I see her again? But I catch her fierce look and know I will.

  She extends her front legs into a deep bow. Her head follows suit though her gaze remains locked with mine. Her irises shift. They meander through colors with only glimpses of the golden yellow from earlier.