“Lucia, it’s me,” Avery calls from beyond the door.
I glance out my very small port window and frown at the night. From as far as I can tell, it’s not even close to dawn.
Since we’ve spoken very little in the last few days, there must be a reason the captain is at my door in the middle of the night.
“What do I owe the honor?” I ask, attempting to sound awake when I find him in the narrow hall. I’m uncomfortable around him now, and I hate it. Neither of us knows where we stand. Are we friends? Are we more? Are we married?
The handsome captain looks almost haggard, and I know he hasn’t seen his bed this night. Frowning, discomfort forgotten, I step forward. “What’s wrong?”
He rubs a hand over his face. His chin is smooth now, the stubble that grew on the island a memory. Just like everything else. “We’ve spotted the sirens’ archipelago.”
I knew it was coming. Once we went through, we had no choice but to go back. But I let myself push that fact aside, had too much else to worry about.
“This time through, I want you to stay down here, locked in your cabin.” Unlike last time, Avery’s worried; it’s written all over his face. “Please.”
“What’s wrong?” His tone is like a bucket of freezing creek water splashed over my head, and I’m wide awake now. I stand straighter, preparing myself for whatever he says next.
Avery lightly knocks on the doorframe with the side of his fist, reluctant to tell me. Finally, he meets my eyes. “Gregory’s having trouble pulling the magic required for his cloaking spell. He believes he’ll be able to muffle our sound, but he can’t do both.”
I process the information, give myself a moment to panic and then will the emotion away. “All right. We’ll be grateful for anything he can do for us.”
“Lucia, I wouldn’t have brought you if I thought for a moment—”
“Stop.” I silence him with a hand to his chest. It’s the first contact we’ve made since the island, and I wonder if it’s as jarring for him as it is for me. “I’m glad I came. This is what I do—this is what I live for. I’d rather face an archipelago of sirens than sit at home darning socks.”
He gives me a wry smile. “I suppose that means I won’t convince you to stay in your cabin?”
“Sorry, Captain.” I give him an apologetic smile, but we both know I’m not at all remorseful. I turn, searching the room. “Now, what did I do with my bow?”
***
It’s almost time.
The crewmen pace the deck, Avery stands at the helm, and Gregory stares out across the water, his face void of emotion. It’s an eerie sight.
Flink scampers to Avery as soon as we’re out of my cabin, but I make my way to the mage. He glances over when I stop next to him and place my hands on the rail.
“You should be below. It will not be safe on the deck tonight.”
I shrug. “I rarely concern myself with what’s safe and what isn’t.”
He nods once and then continues to stare at the sea.
“Why can’t you draw the magic?”
“It’s not there to draw. Last time, I used what lingered on the ship, on us. But that’s gone. The siren islands are like a black void—it’s like they pull all the magic in the air and taint it so it’s unusable, at least to me. It’s why I was only able to make one breathing charm. I simply had nothing left to work with.”
You cannot make a sword without iron, and you can’t cast a spell without magic. There’s nothing for it really. It’s just a simple fact.
I pat Gregory’s shoulder, offering as much comfort as I have to give, and leave him to his brooding. Avery watches me walk past my usual crate and come up the steps to his spot at the helm.
“May I stand next to you, Captain Greybrow, or should I sit on my crate?”
After a moment, he lets out a low, breathy laugh and offers his hand. “Stay.”
Flink lies just below us on the deck, rubbing his face on a familiar gold ball.
“I see you’ve distracted my dragon. Or did he fetch that from your cabin all on his own?”
Avery smiles but doesn’t answer.
Several minutes pass. The men finish with their preparations, and the cotton is passed. I’m not sure why they bother; we all know it won’t make a difference should the sirens sing. All eyes turn to the captain, waiting for his order.
Avery motions for the anchor to be raised. I squeeze his hand for courage, and then I let him go. Unlike last time, the men stand with their weapons drawn. I don’t nock an arrow yet. It’s still a fair way to the islands, and I don’t want my arms fatigued before we reach them.
Gregory holds his hands up, drawing as much magic as possible for the muffling charm. We’ll have to hope the sirens are asleep so we may pass by undetected. But are they nocturnal creatures? Perhaps they roam their islands in the moonlight.
I watch the land grow closer and refuse to look away. I want to be prepared, ready to attack if they should see us. I almost itch for the fight. My muscles ache to do something productive instead of standing here, cloaked in worry. Also, a morbid part of me knows this will be my only chance to lay eyes on them, and I want to see this beast that strikes fear in the heart of strong men.
Are they as beautiful as they are rumored? A man’s dream—that’s what they are said to look like. I’m curious about that ideal. I have a suspicion they’ll look like a clan of terrifying Adelines.
We are close enough now details take form in the night. Each of the islands in the long string looks lush. Trees and grass grow right next to the water, leaving only a few patches of sandy beach. They look innocent enough—no different than any other island.
I scan the land, looking for signs of movement. So far, I see nothing but the slight sway of long palm fronds in the sea breeze. It’s a dark night, not moonless as it was when we passed before, but the only light comes from the stars and a waxing half-moon. Hazy clouds aid our stealthy mission, though they roam the sky as they will.
Everyone is still and quiet. We wait. From the corner of my eye, I glance at Avery. He’s the picture of calm—one hand firmly on the wheel, the other draped over the top, but his eyes are sharp and watchful. His only movement is the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.
Tension rises when we begin to pass the island on the right. We’re a wraith in the night, wind and nothing more. Our long bare shadow brushes the beach, but we do not linger. I worry we’ll snag in the shallows, but the Greybrow Serpent sails on.
We’re nearing the tight passage through the two islands when I notice movement in the trees. I narrow my eyes, praying it’s only an animal. I’m not prepared for what I see.
A skeletal creature lumbers toward the beach. It’s little more than saggy skin stretched over bones. Ratty tufts of hair hang from its head, and from this distance, the eyes are void of life. It wears rags—what appears to be clothing that may have washed on the shore after a shipwreck. Intent, it looks out at the sea, toward the direction we came from. We are temporarily hidden in the shadow of the other island, but it is smaller, and we won’t be masked for long.
I stare at the beast, horrified. I’ve seen my share of creatures—both hideous and lovely. But I’ve never seen anything like this. This is a monster. There’s no other word for it. An abomination, a curse of the land. Surely, it’s not a siren. How could it be?
We continue along, leaving the beast staring in the wrong direction. Stiff, I roll my shoulder very slightly. We’re almost past; we’re almost free.
Then, out of the stark silence, someone attempts to hold back a cough.
Immediately, the creature turns, pinning us with its eyes. A shrill cry rises up, but it’s too late. I raise my bow and shoot the creature. The arrow flies, meeting its target dead in the chest and cutting her screech short. It’s a perfect shot, and a quiet one. I wait for the beast to fall.
But she doesn’t fall. She stares right at me, rips the arrow from her chest, and wails into the night. The sound is shr
ill and jarring—so horrible it steals my breath. I clutch my hands over my ears, trying to block the horrid noise.
Avery’s eyes go glassy as he stares at the beach. The rest of his crew mimics him, all of them wearing the same entranced expression. Gregory drops his arms to his side, not even trying to hide us any longer.
“No!” I scream.
He doesn’t even remember I’m here.
It must sound different to them. She certainly must look different.
“Drop the anchor!” Avery cries out. “Ready the dinghies.”
“Avery!” I shake his arm, but he brushes me away as if I’m a pesky gnat. I grab him again. “Listen to me!”
But he’s too far gone. The crew hurries to do their captain’s bidding, but some can’t wait. One man leaps over the side of the ship, and several others follow him.
Two more of the ghastly sirens join their sister, and their song—if you can call it that—rises with hers. It makes me ill, turns my stomach in knots. I double over, clutching my hands to my head.
What can I do? The arrow didn’t kill her, and I know no magic—not that there’s any in the air at my disposal anyway.
Yancey runs to the railing, ready to leap into the water. I race to him, trying to pull him back. “Don’t listen to them!”
He pushes me backward, and I stumble to the deck. Helpless, I watch as the men fight to get to the island, kicking, punching, clawing their way. Somehow Avery slips by me. He stands on a dinghy as the men row, already halfway toward the monsters.
Flink runs about the deck, terrified. He’s copper—absolutely worthless. I cry into the night, desperate as I try to pull the last of the men back.
The first man reaches the sirens—a young man whose name I never learned. He drops to his knees, crawling toward them, lowering to his belly to bow at their feet. The first siren grabs him by the shirt, pulls him to his feet, and then sinks her teeth into his neck.
She’s feeding on him.
The tales forgot to mention they’re vampiric.
Once finished, she tosses him away and reaches for the next man. Horrified and nauseated, I watch as the creatures go through several of Avery’s crewmen. With each victim, their bodies change. Muscle stretches under brightening skin. Their hair grows long and glossy. Soon they are just as lovely as I feared, but I have seen the truth.
I nock another arrow, this time aiming for the neck. I will shoot the monsters a hundred times if it comes to that. My shot hits its target, and the three sirens turn to me, snarling like wild beasts. I shoot again and again and again.
Each time, they toss the arrows away as if they are nothing more than darts. Tired of playing, they scream again. This time, the men go still then fall to their knees in front of the monsters. Avery, too, bows in front of them, as if swearing his fealty to his queen.
The sirens say something, and a cheer rises through the ranks. With murder in their eyes, the men turn to stare directly at me.
This isn’t good. Not good at all.
I stumble back, startled by the animosity in their expressions. Holding weapons in the air, they board the dinghies. They scream war cries, and I know it’s me they’re after. My heart beats at a frantic rate, and black pinpricks cloud my vision, promising blissful unconsciousness if I just give in. I nock another arrow and back as far as possible.
“Stop!” I yell as they crawl over the side of the ship. “I will shoot!”
Gregory’s with the first group. He races toward me, hands raised to command a spell. Fortunately, there’s nothing in the air for him to use. Avery’s right behind him. He shoves the mage aside to get to me.
It’s the most terrifying sight.
Trembling, I raise my bow.
“Avery, stop,” I plead. “Stop!”
Flink cuts the captain off. The brave dragon places himself between Avery and me and roars out a flame of gold.
He’s going to die tonight because of his element, I think fleetingly. I’m going to die tonight, too.
But the strangest thing happens. Avery and the other men who are engulfed in the sparkling flames stop short. They blink and shake their heads, looking very much as if they are waking from a trance.
“Lucia,” Avery breathes, and then he throws his sword to the deck, eying it as if it were a cobra.
Flink roars again, chasing the men now. With each breath of golden flames, more men come to their senses. The crew begins to battle each other, and Avery grabs me roughly by the shoulder, pushing me toward his cabin.
“Avery, no!” I yell as I attempt to twist free. “I won’t hide!”
“It’s not safe,” he snarls. “I almost killed you!”
He pushes me through the door and slams it shut. When I try to open it, it doesn’t budge. He must have pulled a crate in front of the wretched thing.
I scream at him, yell and rail, but it’s no use. He won’t let me out. Shaking I’m so angry, I turn and press my shoulder blades against the wood. My eyes land on the case in the corner…the case with the enchanted arrows. I rush toward it and lift the glass lid.
Once the arrows are secure in my quiver, I eye the room. Avery’s cabin has windows—great big glass windows that look out the back of the ship. I’ve never seen them open, but surely there must be some sort of latch. I search them, but they are solid, more for light than fresh air.
I’ll just have to bust my way out.
I can hear the continuing fight on the deck, and it makes me sick. Friends are fighting friends, and we’ve already lost enough men.
Gritting my teeth, I wrap my arm in a small rug and hit the glass with my elbow as hard as I am able. It takes several times, but on the fifth hit, the glass shatters. I push out the remaining sharp shards and climb through. The dark sea stretches below me, and the deck is a good ten feet straight up. It’s the height that makes me nervous. I’ve never liked climbing, never escaped into trees when I was a girl.
You can do this.
I take a deep breath, muster up as much courage as possible, and climb the ornate carvings affixed to the ship. Gasping, more from fear than exertion, I pull myself onto the top deck. Below me, the crewmen fight a war. The sirens haven’t noticed me yet, but they have boarded the ship. They lean against the railing, seemingly amused with the chaos.
Narrowing my eyes, I nock the first enchanted arrow. It’s old, but it’s straight and strong. If it doesn’t kill them, nothing will. I let it sail.
The siren falls.
With grim satisfaction, I nock another arrow just as the two remaining sirens find me. They scream their shrill cry, but they are too late. Another falls.
Before I can take aim at the last, the beast grabs the closest man and drags him into the ocean as she leaps over the edge.
“Yancey!” I scream.
I race down the stairs, making my way to the lower deck. They emerge on the shore, dripping wet.
The siren holds Yancey by his neck, but he doesn’t try to escape. He’s still entranced, completely lost to her. She meets my eyes and drags him into the trees, using him as a shield. Left with no choice, I take the shot and pray my aim is true. The arrow disappears into the dense jungle.
Hissing in triumph, the creature buries her fangs in Yancey’s neck.
“No!”
I nock the last arrow, this time knowing Yancey’s lost either way. I take aim, hold my breath, and shoot. The arrow passes Yancey and buries itself in her chest. She falls.
But I am too late, because Yancey falls with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Company of the Royal Variety
“How does it feel having a girl save your life?” I ask Yancey as I pour hot water over the leaves for his tea.
The man glares at me. He wears a thick white bandage on his neck, and he’s extremely pale. But he is alive, and I think that’s saying something.
“How does it feel to be saved by a girl,” he asks, “Or how does it feel to be saved by you?”
I grin as I set the tea aside
to steep. “Whichever.”
He rests his head back. “I suppose I’ll have to teach you some wind magic now.”
“No, I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ll leave the magic to the rest of you. I’m content with my arrows and dagger.”
Once the tea is ready, I pour him a cup and add far more sugar than necessary. Yancey can do with a bit of sweetening up. “Drink this and then take a nap.”
“I’m not going to nap. Do I look like a child?”
“No, but you sound like one.” I grin from the door of the Serpent’s temporary infirmary—otherwise known as the supply cupboard. “I have five younger siblings. I would know.”
I close the door, leaving him to his grumbling, and make my way to the deck. The sky is a beautiful bright blue, the color of summer though we’re well into the winter months of the year. The air is hot at sea, and it feels no different than any other day on the water.
But the crew is somber, everyone quiet in their mourning. We lost nine men last night to the sirens, and we almost lost Yancey as well. The men go about their tasks, but there’s very little talk or laughter.
Flink lies in the sunshine, oblivious to the sadness permeating the air. His scales remain copper, and they shine as he soaks up the heat.
“Looks like his element isn’t so worthless after all,” Avery says from beside me.
There are shadows under his eyes, and he didn’t bother to shave this morning. As captain, he feels the burden of our loss most acutely. These men were his friends, his brothers, his crew. They trusted him to keep them safe, and some were lost.
But I know the truth. It’s my fault they’re gone.
Nine men gave their lives so I could keep mine. The math doesn’t compute. I should have stayed in Mesilca, let Duke Edelmyer dole out whatever punishment he craved.
“A counter element.”
I study the dragon, feeling even more affection for him. He saved me. He saved us all.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper after several moments of silence, finally broaching the subject I want to stay far, far away from. “That your men died because of me.”
Avery turns, and he doesn’t speak until I finally look at him. “My men died because I was careless in my plans. This was not your fault.”
Greybrow Serpent (Silver and Orchids Book 2) Page 18
