The Siren's Secret

by Heather Ostler

Sierra looked sympathetic. “Julia,” she said softly, “they’re not saying you’re like that.”

  “How do you know?” They both watched as the opposite team made a goal.

  “Because it’s you. You’re Lancer’s daughter. You are everything to him. I’m sure it just all came as a shock. I mean, even my parents treated me strangely when they found out about my gifts.”

  Julia turned to her. “And they got over it?”

  “Of course,” she answered. “They got over the weirdness and began to appreciate who I was. I’m sure it will be the same way with you and Lancer.”

  “I hope so,” Julia said. “But even when it isn’t strange with my dad anymore, eventually I’ll have to tell Terrence, and then it will start all over again.”

  “Terrence doesn’t know?”

  “No.” She leaned her head back. “Just my dad, Liam, Caleb, Scarlet, and you.”

  Sierra dropped her jaw. “Caleb knows? And Terrence doesn’t? Isn’t that—”

  “Awful,” Julia replied. “Of course it is. My boyfriend doesn’t know—and can’t know—unless we end up getting married.”

  “Married? That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

  “No. I mean, not anytime soon. But my dad made it clear that I can only tell him if it’s far in the future. And I’m assuming I’d only be with him for that long if”—she looked down—“we were thinking about something like that.”

  One of the balls escaped from the field and rolled next to Sierra’s leg. She reached down to pick it up as a burly player sprinted toward her. She offered it to him, and he grinned, taking it from her.

  “Thanks, Sierra.”

  “You’re welcome.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do I know you?”

  He ran a hand through his messy, blond hair. “No. I just made a point to learn your name. You know, in case I ever bumped into you and wanted to ask you out.”

  Sierra laughed but didn’t reply. He lingered there, obviously waiting for a response, and Julia nudged her.

  “Jaxon! Hurry it up,” one of his teammates yelled. “We have to finish this.”

  “She’ll talk to you after the game,” Julia answered for her.

  “Sounds good.” He smiled. “Thanks, Julia.”

  As he sprinted away, both girls burst out laughing. “Uh, thanks for that,” Sierra said. “That was embarrassing.”

  Julia shrugged. “It’s a nice distraction from siren stuff.”

  They watched the game for a minute, realizing how good of a player Gabe really was. He was aggressive and seemed to be talented.

  “So now that you’re a siren,” Sierra said. “Does that mean we could both go underwater and communicate?” Her eyes lit up. “How incredible would that be? We have to try it.”

  “Sierra,” Julia said, stopping her. “I cannot do anything that associates me with sirens. It could be catastrophic if Lockham students found out. Could you imagine if Camilla realized what I was? I don’t think she’d care about the consequences for the Soldier Union. She’d only be filled with glee if she ruined my life.”

  After the game was over, Sierra got up the nerve to speak with the cute blond player. Julia met up with Gabe to con-gratulate him but kept an eye on Sierra.

  “You won your first game. Not too bad,” she said.

  “Thanks.” Gabe brushed mud and grass off his arm. “I think we’re off to a good start. Thanks to me.” He grinned.

  A group of Gabe’s teammates laughed across the field, distracting Julia. As she looked away, she saw Sierra walking toward them.

  “Good game,” she said, slightly out of breath. “You guys did great.”

  As the weeks pushed into fall, Julia didn’t have a lot of time to worry about her problems. She had far too much to do. For Mr. Knightly’s class, they now met in the third-level gym. There was a large auditorium there, and he had set up a number of obstacles for the students. Each week they would shapeshift and then complete the obstacle course while in werecat form.

  The first obstacle course had been on a track where students raced. The second week’s obstacle involved jumping.

  Various blocks were spread throughout the gym, and each werecat sprang from ledge to ledge. In the third and fourth weeks of class, students used their werecat teeth and claws to demolish certain objects.

  Speed was no problem for Julia on the track. She often tied or came in first place when racing against others in her class. Jumping was a bit trickier, and it took the whole week before she felt comfortable lunging between the ten-foot-tall blocks. The last two weeks using her teeth and claws had been the hardest of all.

  She had rarely used her werecat’s teeth and claws—at least not so intensely. And she’d learned the hard way that whatever happened to her in werecat form translated through to human form.

  In one of the classes, Mr. Knightly had placed an old, large wooden desk in front of each student.

  “Each desk should be nothing but a pile of wood chips by the time you’re done!” he called out. “If you are to receive full marks for this assignment, then it must be destroyed by the end of the week.”

  Julia clawed manically against the wooden desk for hours in werecat form. The desk may have been ancient, but it was structurally sound. The desk wore against her nails like a file, and she lost power quickly. Soon she began to claw against the desk faster, hoping she’d create enough damage before her nails were gone.

  Other students struggled too, and it was reassuring to see that Camilla had made as little progress as Julia.

  She tried different sides of the desk, hoping there was a trick to it. But on each side she found old claw marks, most likely from previous students, which only made her feel more discouraged.

  Hands sore and claws worn, many students eventually gave up on the last day. Julia, however, was tenacious. She hated being outsmarted by Mr. Knightly and decided to claw her way through until the last minute of class.

  On the last day of the week, Mr. Knightly finally called them to the center of the auditorium. Desk still standing and completely defeated, Julia glanced at her damaged claws.

  “This was about more than just using your werecat assets,”

  Mr. Knightly announced. “The bigger picture was realizing what you’re facing and knowing your limits.” He glanced at Julia. “Please shapeshift back into human form.”

  Instantly, Julia let go of her werecat body and changed back into human form.

  Fifteen other students shapeshifted too. The tiger blurred until it became Camilla. The leopard became Ziphilia. Two similar snow leopards transformed into Celeste and Melanie.

  “These desks,” Mr. Knightly said, swiping a hand against one of the scratched surfaces, “aren’t even made of wood.”

  There were a couple gasps from the students, and Julia dropped her jaw.

  “They’re made of stone,” he continued. “And therefore could never be reduced to stubble in a mere week.”

  Anger surged through Julia and her nails began to throb.

  “They were designed to appear as reinforced wood for this exact lesson. You must know what you’re taking on before you start something in werecat form.”

  Julia glanced at Camilla, who bit down on her cheek, looking angry.

  “For those of you who realized this was an impossible feat early on, congratulations. You saved yourself a lot of pain.

  You realized your limits and didn’t push yourself blindly on a mission to complete something unfeasible.”

  The class became silent, and Julia was sure they were just as furious as her.

  “Class dismissed.”

  Not only was Julia upset that Mr. Knightly had tricked them into one of his practical lessons, but she felt humiliated that she’d been the last student to keep clawing away.

  As the other murmuring students left the classroom, Julia slowly looked at her hands. She winced at her cracked and broken nails, blood seeping from her torn skin and cuticles.

  Painfully, she attempted to pick
up her books and backpack without getting any blood on them.

  “Julia,” Mr. Knightly rang out. “A word please.”

  She hid her hands as best she could when he approached her. “Yes?”

  “How bad is it?”

  She glanced around the auditorium. The last couple of students scampered out.

  “It hurts,” she answered. “But I’ll be fine.”

  He squinted his black, almond-shaped eyes. “May I see?”

  He extended his arm and offered her a hand.

  Embarrassed, Julia slowly pulled her hands out from behind her back.

  Mr. Knightly grabbed her right hand and sighed. “That’s pretty bad. You’ll need some medical attention.”

  “I’ll go to the hospital and see Dr. Leon.”

  Mr. Knightly left her side and strode over to a thick briefcase against the auditorium wall. “No need,” he said, bring-ing the case over to her. “Please sit down.”

  She sat down on a nearby bench and watched as Mr.

  Knightly flipped open the case. It was full of medical supplies and glass bottles filled with brightly colored liquids.

  “It’s not the worst I’ve seen,” he said, pulling out cloth bandages. “But it’s close. When you’ve taught this class for as many years as I have, you see a lot of injuries.”

  He took Julia’s hand and began cleaning off the blood with a cotton ball drenched in blue liquid. Immediately her pain lessened.

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen so many cracked nails,” he said, dismayed. “I’m glad I stopped you when I did.”

  “You could’ve told us after the first day,” Julia said, watching him clean a long cut on her finger. “I still would have learned the lesson, but I’d still have nails.”

  He disposed of the cotton ball and began working on the second hand. “It wouldn’t be the same. You in particular needed this lesson.”

  Julia grimaced, feeling offended. “Why?”

  “Because you have too much confidence in your werecat,”

  he answered without hesitation. “You’re an extremely talented shapeshifter, and a fast learner, but your arrogance will put you in much worse situations than this.”

  She winced as he pulled off a long shard of a cracked nail. “I think I’ve proven myself in a lot of situations.” She turned her head away from the nail. “I’ve already faced Alexis, I fought Mr. Azure, and when I was kidnapped—”

  She stopped herself from exposing any information about the sirens. “I just don’t think you understand how much I’ve learned in the past year.”

  He wrapped Julia’s fingers tightly in the sticky white bandages. “But you still need to know your limits. Otherwise, you’ll never survive your next meeting with the Guild.” He bandaged the other hand. “If this lesson makes you stop and think more carefully in any dangerous situation, then it was worth it.”

  Once both of her hands were wrapped and resembled something of a mummy’s, Mr. Knightly closed the briefcase.

  “Thank you,” Julia said quietly.

  He stood up. “You’re welcome. Don’t worry, your werecat claws will grow back in a week.”

  She nodded. “And my human nails?”

  “It will be longer,” he answered. “But you have the whole weekend to let them heal. Maybe Sierra won’t mind helping you with small tasks?”

  “Yeah.” Julia awkwardly picked up her book bag again, sliding her mummy hand through the strap, and left the auditorium.

  The weekend was more difficult than she could have imagined as she tried to use her limited hands, and she became much more appreciative of Sierra.

  As they sat down at dinner on Sunday, Sierra patiently balanced two trays of food for her and Julia. She then handed Julia’s tray to Gabe, who cut up her food into smaller pieces.

  “Do you need us to feed it to you too?” he asked, teasing her. “Yeah,” Julia answered, clumsily grabbing her fork with her bandaged hands.

  “That’s just the thing I need to make sure everyone in the entire lunch hall stares at me.”

  She was already aware of the curious looks she received.

  “I can’t believe Mr. Knightly let you go on for as long as he did,” Sierra said. “That’s just cruel.”

  Gabe took a sip of his water. “Didn’t it hurt while you were clawing? How did you not notice that your nails were ripped off?”

  Sierra shuddered. “Ow.”

  “Of course it hurt,” Julia said. “But I was more concerned about finishing the assignment than I was with my hands.

  Besides, my claws didn’t feel as much pain as my hands do.

  “Did you tell your dad?” Sierra asked.

  “No, and I’m not going to. This is how Knightly teaches his classes. I should have realized what was going on.” Julia attempted to take a sip of her drink, but Gabe caught it as it slipped from her hand.

  “Thanks,” she said as he put it down. “Can we go now?

  Camilla keeps looking at me.”

  Both Gabe and Sierra glanced across the way to where Camilla sat with her group of friends.

  “Yeah, let’s go to the library,” Gabe said. “I need to finish my curses paper anyway.”

  “Anywhere away from Camilla is fine.” Julia rose from her chair. “I’m sure she thinks it’s hilarious that I clawed my fingers to shreds.”

  “C’mon,” Gabe said, grabbing her bag. “She’s just jealous that your hands look like a combination of a mummy and a white lobster.”

  Julia laughed. “Yes, this is definitely something to envy.”

  Together they left the dining hall and made their way to the grand library.

  Luckily Julia didn’t have homework because she knew it would be difficult to type or write. Instead she settled into a comfy chair next to Sierra and Gabe and watched as Gabe furiously scribbled away to finish his paper.

  He was exceedingly intelligent, and Julia became convinced that he enjoyed every minute of his homework. His eyes lit up when he found out new information, and his brain was like a sponge. He never forgot facts.

  “Done,” he announced, backing away to admire his work.

  He elegantly wrote “CURSES” at the top of the page for the finishing touch.

  “So what kind of curses are you talking about?” Julia asked, glancing at the ten-page paper.

  Gabe thumbed through the pages. “Every creature in Ossai that I could research. You name it, I found a curse tied to it. Water nymph and werecat curses were pretty rare, so there’s nothing too interesting there. But I found really strange curses connected to the Wingatti people, sirens, jungle beasts—”

  “Wait,” Julia said, sitting up quickly. “Did you say sirens?”

  Her heart began to beat uncomfortably fast, and Sierra’s head flipped up from her book.

  “Yeah,” Gabe said nonchalantly. “And that one took a lot of research. I think Scarlet will be impressed.”

  “I’m curious,” Sierra said, concerned, “what does it say about siren curses?”

  Gabe flipped through several sheets of his notes.

  “Sirens,” he began, “are known for being manipulative and deceitful.”

  Julia sighed, feeling irritated, but Gabe didn’t seem to notice.

  “It is believed that sirens can hypnotize their prey and make them see something different than what’s actually in front of them. However, if a siren hypnotizes a victim and makes her believe that she is someone else, her hair and eye color will stay the same.”

  “That doesn’t seem right at all,” Julia replied. “Can sirens really make others believe that they’re someone else?”

  “Apparently.” Gabe shrugged. “It’s kind of cool. Think about it, if Sierra showed up one day with purple hair and dark eyes, we would know it wasn’t really her. It would be a siren hypnotizing us to think she’s Sierra.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Sierra responded.

  “That’s just what I’ve read.”

  Julia felt tense. “But what did it say abo
ut the curse, Gabe?”

  He turned back to his paper. “According to the Anai history papers”—he looked at them and smiled—“which I translated myself, Sirens are also cursed with bonds.”

  “What does that mean?” Julia interjected.

  “Any sort of romantic relationship,” he said without looking up. “Sirens only take what they need out of such relationships. Concerned only with their individual survival and the well-being of their overall community, sirens are destined to be alone.”

  Julia could feel the blood draining from her face.

  Gabe finished reading and looked up. “Pretty interesting, though, huh?”

  Sierra turned to Julia, her face anxious.

  “I have to go.” Julia stood up so quickly that she knocked her book bag off the chair. In her attempt to catch it with bandaged hands, she took hold of the cover, which flipped it upside down. All of her school supplies dumped out onto the library floor, and she hurried to pick up the contents.

  She could hear Gabe’s words about the curse echoing in her head. Her hands began to shake, and her bandages restricted her. As she reached angrily for a group of scattered writing supplies, one of the pens caught her hand at the wrong angle. It ripped through the bandage, stabbing into one of her cuts, and she yelled out in pain.

  Gabe and Sierra dropped to her side instantly.

  Sierra looked at her bleeding hand. “Oh my gosh, Julia.”

  “Why did you do that?” Gabe said, picking up her things.

  She ignored his question. “That cut was almost healed,”

  Julia said through gritted teeth. “Now it’s going to take twice as long.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t freaked out like that. What happened?” He stood up and gave her the bag.

  Julia took it from him and turned away. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  She sprinted out of the library and up to her room. Once she was alone, Julia threw down her bag and began pacing in circles.

  The door flung open seconds later, and Sierra entered, looking frazzled. “Julia,” she said slowly. “What Gabe said, you don’t even know if it’s true. And you can’t just believe that it is. You need to talk to your dad.”

  “No.” Julia sat down on her bed. “I’m not going to tell him about this.”