by Billi Jean
“Go on.”
“I…I think I can break these people free, from their statues. I think that’s why I was called down there, not for her, but…for them.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I don’t think so. All we need is for you to go down there and get another arm incased in—”
“Do you have a better idea?” Her anger made her a tiny bit braver.
“Well, eating breakfast—”
“We can’t eat breakfast!” She threw her arms up. “We need to save these people.” She lowered her voice and added, “It’s what heroes do. They save people.”
“Heroes?” he spluttered. “Since when are we heroes? You want to help these people, I get that, I do. But you aren’t like her. She blurred my mind, Maeve. You sang and I recalled who you were, as if her voice disappeared. That’s not like her. You can’t go down there, alone, thinking that if you sing, you’ll free people from stone.” He touched his chest with his hand. “I can’t either. I’m no hero, angel.” A hard shake of his head and he anchored his hands on his hips. “I’m a warrior, caught in a realm not of my choosing.”
He was much more than that. She drew herself up. He was being obstinate. He was a hero. He might be a scarred and damaged one, but he was a champion. I have to do this on my own, prove to him I can before he’ll see. She brushed past him and out the door before he could stop her.
“Maeve! Wait, come on, you have to give me half a second! What about the eggs?”
She’d given him more than any man she’d ever met. I gave him the truth. She would have given him more, too. She’d spoken what she truly believed. And he’d not even considered her ideas. Brennan always led, and she always followed. And I always stayed silent. I thought Stephano was different. I thought he would believe me.
She was almost to the bottom of the spiral staircase before she heard him racing after her. He must have stopped and gathered his breakfast. Heart racing, she skipped down the last few spiral turns and made it to the door and out onto the street. Once there, she picked up her skirts and ran. He shouted her name again with a laugh in his tone. He doesn’t even believe I’m a Siren, does he?
It was a race, with her far outdistancing him because of the condition of the road. She fit through places she knew he would have to jump or climb over to reach the other side.
If this worked, and she thought it would, hoped it would, the statues would become people. All at once she realized what that meant. She stumbled, but kept on. It wouldn’t be safe for her then. I should have let him eat breakfast! We’ll have to leave immediately…which means I will have to explain even more things to him.
“Mae! Wait, would you wait?”
She skidded to a halt near enough to the temple and the mirror for her voice to carry. Mae. The shortened version of her name had become dear to her. She wasn’t about to go inside that place, or even too near it, but she wasn’t going back, either. He’ll never want me after this. He won’t call me anything at all then. He’ll leave and go back to his world, and I’ll stay here, where I won’t hurt anyone else. She stiffened her spine and drew a deep breath. I’m not going to think on that. Not.
“Maeve!”
Her anger had vanished under the weight of her thoughts, but she still ignored Stephano’s bellow. She couldn’t wait for him. He will try and stop me. She gathered her courage and exhaled, then drew in another fortifying breath. Free her. Break the mirrors spell and free them all.
She began to sing.
This time, her song wasn’t one of enticement or fulfillment, or of waking like she’d used on Stephano. This one was of loss and regret, of letting go and leaving, something she thought the woman in the mirror needed. Something she knew from experience. She wasn’t sure why, or how she knew the Siren needed such a song, but with her gift sometimes she simply acted.
Behind her she could sense Stephano had reached her, but he didn’t stop her. His breathless muttering was quiet enough that she could ignore it. But for some reason, his presence gave her a burst of rightness.
A low, wounded, angry sound flowed from the mirror. Stephano drew his sword with a ring of metal on metal. She focused on her music, turning her voice into a soft lullaby of forgotten love and forgiveness.
The cry grew louder, and with it the wind picked up, throwing dust and dirt in her eyes. She tried harder, putting more and more of her own pain in the flow of her song. The loss of her parents, their beloved faces blurred by time, still shining with love, then disappeared, leaving a void nothing could fill was rolled into her song. So was the new pain and fear over losing Stephano. The flow grew, breaking octaves lower as she sang her despair for the Siren.
Slowly, the anger she felt from the Siren began to fade. The anguish and sorrow dissipated. All at once, she felt something give, as if she’d pushed past an invisible wall and there she was, the Siren from the mirror, facing her, looking nothing like she had before. But everything else was different too.
Maeve stood on grass, with a fountain to her left and a bench to her right, flowers blossomed in an array of colors. Birds could be heard in the distance. Stephano, the street, the entire city, were completely missing. He’s going to kill me!
A man appeared, a woman at his side. Both were smiling and holding hands, shooting glances back over their shoulders as they ran toward the fountain.
“You see?” the Siren demanded. “He promised me forever, but was unfaithful in his oaths from the beginning.”
Another scene, with another woman, followed by another, and another. Each time the Siren next to her choked on her tears, but otherwise let them fall, unheeded down her face. Gone was the crown, with it the kohl-lined eyes and daring gown, replaced with a simple gown of white that fit like a silk waterfall down her slim figure.
“He was never for you.” Maeve took the woman’s hand in hers. “If he was, he would never have left you.”
“He promised me everything! He promised me forever! But all he wished was me on his arm, while he had as many others as he chose. I was a fool. Believing him mine.”
Maeve didn’t know what to say, so instead of answering she stroked the Siren’s arm, and hummed a tune of sympathy and compassion for all the other woman had endured.
It seemed to help. The Siren slowly dried her eyes. “He will do the same to you. Your warrior. I saw his heart.”
Maeve wanted to deny her words, but couldn’t. Didn’t I fear the same? “It is not one to open and allow you entrance. He will use you, lie to you, anything he needs to do so that he can have you, but he won’t keep you. Not the way you want.”
As the Siren spoke, a vision of Stephano in her home, doing some domestic chore, a child at his side, watching him caught her by surprise. Do I want such a thing?
“He will have you only for a short while before he goes on to the next.”
Maeve’s throat grew tight but she couldn’t deny she’d thought the same of him.
The Siren’s eyes grew luminous, drawing Maeve in. “Then he will lie to you if you still cling to him, make you promises he won’t keep thinking to make you happy. For he cannot be yours. He does not know love, thus he knows nothing of loving another.”
Stephano never knew a mother’s love, a sister’s steady love, or a woman’s faith he would be there for her. He doesn’t know how to love, does he? She had an idea he would try not to break her heart, but by doing so, surely shatter it. If she allowed it. It doesn’t matter. As soon as he truly realizes I am a Siren, he will think nothing of using me. “I know.”
Sniffing, the Siren wiped at her eyes with her fingers. “I was once a queen among women, sought after by princes and kings from far away realms. Until this man, I never gave my heart to one.”
“So you cursed his city and him.”
“I did.” She didn’t sound remorseful.
“Will you let me lift the curse?”
Sighing, the beautiful Siren stared pensively off into the distance. It was then Maeve realized she was inside the mirror, inside the
illusion, or the past this Siren dwelt on daily, perhaps hourly. Startled Maeve tried her best not to panic. It would do no good now. I am here at her will, I won’t be able to leave without her permission.
“I was placed here. When I discovered his duplicity, I struck out and tried to kill them both. I succeeded in killing the woman, but not…him. If I release them, I will not release him.”
Maeve could understand exactly how wrong that would be. The man, if not evil, was unfaithful and cruel. “Then leave him as a warning to all men who play with a woman’s heart. That they cannot go unscathed for such a crime, yes?”
This seemed to please the Siren, for she glanced at Maeve and an impish smile flickered over her beautiful face. “It would be good then to release the citizens. Many of them were my friends.”
“What will you do?”
The Siren took a deep breath and exhaled with a glance around her. “I will leave this place. And you?” she asked, eyes back on Maeve. “You have not yet learned to master your effect on men. You will have to leave as well, or…” She studied Maeve with an unreadable expression. “Perhaps you have found a means of controlling your power.”
Maeve smiled and shook her head. She had no control, she only knew when she wished to, she could use her gift for specific things. “I don’t think I have learned control. I didn’t know, I mean, I didn’t think we could…control it.”
The Siren’s eyes widened. “Surely, you were taught.”
“No. Our kind are…gone.” She kept her tone gentle, but the Siren’s face paled. “It happened when I was a child.” The memory of smoke, shouts and chaos was never far from her consciousness. The Hungry Time, she called it. “There was an attack.”
“An attack? But surely all our kind…” She covered her mouth. “All? Are you certain?”
Maeve winced, suddenly fighting tears. “No. My brother insists everyone is gone, but he never would take me…back,” she confessed. “I have always thought…one, two people can’t survive without others doing so as well.”
“It can’t be true,” the Siren whispered after a long silence. “I will go. If any survived there will be signs. All our people cannot be gone,” she added. “But you, you must learn to control your powers. You can choose when to reveal yourself, and when to hide your beauty. Perhaps, I will seek you out, after, and I can teach you. If you have not already learned.”
Maeve was too emotional to respond. She thinks we aren’t alone.
“You should leave, as soon as you free this town.”
“I will.” She squeezed the Siren’s hands, feeling overwhelmed with too many mixed emotions.
“I am Ellaine, if ever you are in need.”
“I am Maeve and the man with me is Stephano,” she managed. Getting control of her emotions, she continued in a steadier voice, “Be careful as you travel. The Dark Faye hunt for women, especially beautiful ones. They would take you and use you.”
Another smile, this one oddly filled with merriment. “I would like to see them try.”
“Mmm.” Maeve adjusted her hair behind her ears unsure what that meant. Perhaps if she taught me, I would know. She pushed the idea aside, unsure when she would ever see the Siren again. Stephano would be worried, more he would need to know why they had to leave the town, and without his breakfast. Still, it was better than having a stone arm and leaving this city entombed. “I will need…out, again.”
“You must sing, this time, of freedom. It will release me, as well as the people in this city. But be warned. You must also leave, for they will not look kindly on a Siren after this, I fear.”
“No.” Maeve grinned. “I am certain they will not.” Feeling anxious about Stephano, she took the Siren’s hand and squeezed it once more. “Fare you well, sister.”
“Fare you well, sister.”
Maeve released her and backed away. Taking a breath, she began to sing of freedom and open spaces, of leaving the past behind and beginning anew. At once the clearing melted and with a start she was outside again, Stephano an anxious presence at her side.
He grabbed her arm and held her in place, studying her from her head to toes for a brief startling moment before shocking her by shaking her gently. “Maeve, damn it, you scared the living—” He stared around as a huge crash sounded in the distance, then back at her, now free of stone arm. “Shit. I think you did it.”
She tossed her head and broke from his hold. “Yes. I told you I could.”
He had the nerve to wink. “Good job, now, let’s—”
“Now, we leave.” Not wanting to listen to him suddenly, she held up a hand and like magic he closed his mouth and stood back. “I told you I could do it. I’m like her. I’m a Siren, Stephano. Like her. She wasn’t evil. She was hurt.”
“Well, she—”
“By a man.”
He grimaced at that and anchored his hands on his hips. “Obviously, but—”
“Obviously? Is it so easy to believe a man would use and hurt a woman like that?”
“Well, the entire town was stone—”
“Well, that’s sad,” she sniffed. “She’s free now and he’s stone!”
“All right.” He held his hands up as if she were being unreasonable. “That’s good. So, now—”
“So now we have to leave too, before the men wake and you didn’t even get your breakfast!” The last she threw at Stephano, unhappy suddenly with him, with the town, with men, with…everything. Why do I have to be a Siren? Why does he have to be…broken?
Chapter Eighteen
Stephano watched as Maeve raced down the street, her long, silky straight hair out behind her, her ripped and dirty gown billowing around her legs as she dashed off. The birds roosted in the rafters of the temple, broke free, crying out in distress. He watched them, then her small figure as she carried on.
Women were odd creatures. He’d thought she’d wake feeling shy about last night, and perhaps she had—for a split second. Before she’d confessed what she was, and spilled out a plan any warrior in his right mind would have misgivings about.
But she’d done it. She’d freed the Siren, her arm, and by the sounds of crashing stones around them, the townsfolk.
A Siren.
He pulled his ear, debating the implications of that revelation. If she was a Siren, that would explain the lack of speaking. But it didn’t explain anything else.
He sighed and scanned the street before he followed her. From a distance, he heard more crashing. It sounded as if boulders were being thrown down from the top of the buildings leaning over the street. Or people breaking out of their statues. He jogged along, sword still out and ready, keeping her in sight as the city began to waken.
She hadn’t gotten far ahead of him, but he bet she was already hyperventilating. He hoped he was wrong. Seeing her like that had been…difficult. She climbed over a fallen pillar, casting him a quick glance before jumping down nimbly. So not hyperventilating, but angry with him. He adjusted the satchel from digging into his neck. So she reveals what she is and now she’s mad at me? Why does that make sense?
He laughed, but quietly. It did make sense. He bet other than her brother and, of course, the little witch, Evie, he was the only other person who knew her secret. A Siren. Why would Evie be willing to let her go? She must work there. At the tavern, drawing in men by the hordes.
The thought had him stumbling to a halt. Did she use her voice and have sex with men? She ducked under a downed tree and again glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes were still narrowed in anger the way he knew meant he’d done something to upset her.
No. No, Maeve is a mystery, but she didn’t use her body to earn her living. The way she’d stroked him off last night had been hot, but…she’d been hesitant even if she’d stroked him better than he stroked himself. Then there was that kiss. He rubbed his hand over his lower face. It’d been…hot, passionate, but…untried. She’d never experienced passion. She didn’t know what she was missing, but that made it easier for her to keep him at
arm’s length. Don’t I want her to keep me at arm’s length? He tugged his ear. The truth was, he’d woken in a panic, realizing right away that even if he were scarred and damaged, Mae wasn’t someone he would be able to walk away from. Already I screwed up. How many chances does a man get?
But a Siren…she wasn’t what he’d always pictured. The creatures were said to be gruesome. Or maybe she turned into a monster once she caught a man? But she never tried to get a man.
It was hard to pull the legends from the facts. She drew him, that was certain, but…if she drew him, why not do something more? He could think of a lot he’d like to do to her, have her do to him, either way was fine by him.
So… She won’t speak in front of the people. She fears drawing men. But she’d never shown an interest in any of his companions. He was man enough to admit every single one of them was a better match for her, but she’d never indicated she wanted them. Or me. Obviously, she was a liar. He grinned at the thought. Last night she’d…cared for me. His smile faded. And I didn’t repay that favor. Is that why she was angry? Is she angry because I didn’t flip her to her back and devour her? The trouble was, he had no clue.
He couldn’t figure her out. Women were from Venus; men were from Mars. He didn’t settle for shit like that. He could figure her out.
But come on, she’s much trickier to understand than the average girl. A Siren would not be bound by mortal laws. So that means she’s immortal. Hopefully. The scratch on her cheek had vanished. Her hands were free of the deeper cuts and bruises. That was a good sign.
A Siren. But if the woman in that mirror was a Siren, she was nothing like Maeve. Maeve had stopped him with a song when he’d been…enraged, that was true. But… She’s not like that woman.
He shook his head. There was only one person who had the answers and she wasn’t talking. Yet. Besides, no matter if she was a Siren or a banshee, he still had to get her back to her brother. Being a Siren doesn’t change anything. I still want her under me, humming that little melody of pleasure. I’ll be the first man she’s ever bedded. Do I know what the hell to do with that? I’ve never bedded a virgin.
