by Amy Sumida
“You are not alive, my love,” Banning smoothed back my hair gently. “Not that kind of life; not any life that he could understand. It's kinder to let him believe you're dead than to think you survived only to become . . .”
“A monster?” I turned to Banning. “That's what you said I was. The morning after you blooded me, you said I was a monster.”
“I said we were monsters,” he corrected me. “I blooded you out of love, but it is still a curse.”
“It's not a curse, Banning.” I rolled my eyes. “This is a blessing; a revolution . . . an evolution. I'm strong, and fast, and immortal. But what I am not, is a monster.”
“We drink blood to live, darling”–Banning eased me in against his chest–“human blood. If that is not monstrous then I don't know what is.”
“Leaving my father to die like this”–I waved my hand at the window–“that is monstrous.”
“Please try and understand, Fortune,” Banning said. “You risk us both.”
“I risk only myself.”
“And if you die, what will become of me?”
“You will go on living, Banning.” I snatched at his vest, something stirring in my heart; something very close to premonition. Or even worse –doom. “Promise me. Make me a vow right now, that should I die, you will live on.”
“Fortune”–Banning backed away in horror, but I kept a tight grip on his vest–“you cannot ask that of me. If you were to die, I'd have no will to live on.”
“If I die, Banning Dalca, I will return to you.” I lifted one hand to his cheek. “I swear it. Death will not keep us apart. I will return, but in order for that to happen, in order for us to be reunited, you must live. Now swear to that!”
“I swear it,” he whispered, though his eyes were like open wounds in his face, seeping tears. “I will live for you, and wait for you to return to me.”
“Thank you,” I said in relief. “Now, I must make sure my father lives as well.”
I headed into the house.
Gasping, I came out of the dream to see Torin's shadowed gaze. His large hand was pushing back my hair, just as Banning had done, all those years ago, to Fortune. Torin looked as worried as Banning had, a little frown creasing the spot between his brows.
“Elaria,” Torin whispered. “Are you alright? You were thrashing. It woke me.”
“Yes, I'm alright.” I pulled him against me roughly, and Torin's arms instantly circled me just as tightly. “Now.”
“Was it a nightmare?”
“Worse,” I muttered, “a memory.”
“Banning,” Torin growled and pulled back enough to look at me. “Elaria, I think we should try to reset the spell.”
“The spell the relic cast between us?” I lifted my brows in shock.
“The same.”
“And how the hell do you propose we do that?”
“The relic was made by witches,” he reasoned. “So perhaps a witch could mimic one of the relic's spells.”
“I'm only half witch,” I said, “and you're a quarter. Even together we're not a full witch, and I think it's going to take more than a song to banish the influences of a past life.”
“I wasn't referring to us.”
“Then who?”
“Your father.” Torin took my hand and wove his fingers with mine. “Would you do that for us, little bird? Would you bind your heart to mine again?”
“It's already bound and caged,” I whispered, swearing to myself that it was true. I wouldn't let anyone come between me and Torin ever again. Not with my memories or with my physical body.
“But will you bind it with magic too?” Torin was unrelenting. “Will you banish Banning from your mind?”
“Yes,” I said immediately, hoping that we really could find a spell to work on us, and that it banished my love for Declan as well.
Chapter Thirteen
Our timing was impeccable. I had been in Tír na nÓg for three days before Torin and I headed back to Pyrosvesti. I was getting anxious, waiting for Cer to contact me with some news, Torin wanted to talk to my father about replacing the spell upon us, and then there was that bottle full of Tell that I had to find time to privately set free. Because I couldn't tell Torin how I had gotten it. So, we ended up going back to Pyrosvesti to wait for Cerberus there.
It just so happened that our return coincided with Cerberus's arrival. I heard his giant footfalls creaking on the stairs above us while Torin and I were speaking to my father, in one of his studies below ground. My father looked up, recognizing Cer's heavy tread too. He smiled, then focused back on us.
“It can't be done,” Dad said simply.
“Why not?” I asked.
“It's been done, and then it's been broken –by you,” my father pointed out. “I would have advised you to sing this spell back into existence, but you've nixed that option by breaking the original enchantment. It's essentially like working over magical scar tissue; hard enough to begin with, but add to it the fact that I'd be flying by the seat of my spell-pants, blindly trying to follow in the wake of a powerful witch relic, and it becomes impossible.”
“I'm sorry,” I whispered to Torin.
“No, I'm sorry.” Torin sighed. “I shouldn't have asked it of you, in the first place. I should have trusted you to be strong enough to resist the memories.”
“What memories?” My father asked as I made a face at Torin for divulging that tidbit.
“He doesn't know?” Torin asked me.
“I didn't see how it was his business,” I growled. “He's my father.”
Torin grimaced with apology.
“Well, it's my business now.” My father scowled at me. “So you'd better tell me what it is.”
“Not what, who. Banning Dalca,” I said.
“The blooder Cerberus is friends with?” My father asked.
“One and the same.” Torin grimaced as he sat back in his leather chair.
The particular study we were in had walls of packed earth and stone. The stone bits were solid foundation rock and had shelves carved out of them; the earth bits were covered in wood panels which were hung with an assortment of weaponry and magical tools. Despite its grim adornments and the lack of windows, the room had a homey feel. Thick carpets covered the floor and an Arabian lamp hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over everything. Torin sat beside the small fireplace, the most comfortable spot in the study. Unfortunately, he looked anything but comfortable himself.
“Banning and I have had an interesting relationship,” I floundered for a way to explain this awkward situation to my father. Just by being him, he made it even more awkward for me. “He says...well...er–”
“The blooder claims that Elaria is his reincarnated lover who was murdered the year Elaria was born,” Torin explained for me. “Elaria thought he was insane until she started experiencing memories from this alleged past. Now, she's fairly certain that the leech is telling the truth, and they were once companions.”
“Holy fucking hellfire,” my father huffed.
“I see where you get your colorful vocabulary,” Torin said dryly.
“Maybe you shouldn't call them leeches”–I grimaced at Torin–“seeing as how I may have been one.”
“My daughter was not a blasted blooder!” My father stood up angrily.
“Dad”–I held out a calming hand–“it was a past life. I was a different person.”
I frowned as I remembered how close I was to my father in that life.
“What is it?” My father sank back into his chair. “Something has just occurred to you.”
“No, it's just”–I scowled–“I was very close to my father in that life too.”
“Oh, Ellie-Girl”–Dad leaned forward and took my hand–“even if it's true, it has no bearing on this life. Past lives, if they exist, are called so for a reason; they're in the past. Let these memories go as soon as they arrive. That's the best advice I can give you.”
“Well said,” Torin agreed.
&n
bsp; “I'm trying.”
I looked from one man to the other; both of them so important to me. Their very existence was vital to my happiness. But Banning's face flashed in my mind just then, and I felt –for a brief moment– how important he'd been to me too. No, not to me, to Fortune. Still, her vow resonated inside me. Fortune had sworn to Banning that she would return to him . . . and she had. She just hadn't counted on her new self fucking things up for them by falling in love with another man.
“El!” Cerberus's voice boomed down to us. “How long you gonna be? I have news.”
“We're coming up now!” I shouted back as we all stood and headed upstairs.
We found Cer sitting in the kitchen with my mom. The kitchen is an airy space made of high ceilings which angle into a wall of windows. The windows are partially shaded by overhanging banyan branches, but the view is unobstructed, thanks to some magical finagling on my father's part. Mom and Cerberus were actually sitting out on the balcony which spread out from the window wall, having lunch at the wicker dining set there.
“There's my best buddy!” Cer exclaimed, and then he saw Torin. “Oh, hello, Your Majesty. I wasn't expecting to see you this side of the Veil.”
“I do come over to visit Elaria on occasion,” Torin said stiffly.
“What's the news?” I asked Cerberus. Then I handed Torin a sandwich. “Here, put this in your mouth before you say something I'll regret.”
“The sirens have been snatched by someone familiar to them,” Cerberus informed us. “My team and I have investigated every location where a siren has gone missing, and it's the same at each scene; no sign of a struggle. We even found one of their vehicles. It was locked up tight outside a Target.”
“A target?” Torin scowled.
“It's a store, honey,” I whispered to him, “not a spot to take aim at.”
“Ah,” Torin said sagely.
“What else?” I asked Cer.
He looked uncomfortable.
“Cerberus,” I growled, “please tell me that your multi-million dollar security company found out more than the fact that there has been no sign of struggles.”
“There's not a lot to go on, El,” Cerberus huffed. “Aoide's cell phone didn't give us anything.”
“We're fucked.” I closed my eyes in despair.
“We're not fucked,” Torin took my hand. “There are other avenues of investigation open to us.”
I opened my eyes in shock, wondering if Torin knew about Tell's bottle.
“Like what?” Cerberus asked.
“Magic,” Torin said in a duh tone. “The amount of magic in this very room is staggering. Surely, we can come up with a solution between the five of us?”
My mother looked hopefully to my father, and Cerberus looked to me. My eyes were fastened on Torin. You'd think after winning a Shining One war, I'd be more confident. Especially since the relic I'd wielded to win said war had left me more powerful than I was before I'd bonded with it. I should have magical confidence up the wazoo. But my time in Tír na nÓg had really brought home the fact that I was a magical minnow swimming with supernatural sharks. I had won because I had a relic forged by thousands of witches –thousands! It had taken all of that power to stop the Shining Ones. So now, when I was faced with a problem, it was hard for me to go straight to my own magic for a solution. Especially when a Shining One king was in the vicinity.
“Elaria,” Torin said, “you have the most versatile magic I know. If anyone can find those sirens, it's you.”
“Me?” I looked around at the faces of my loved ones and realized that they all shared Torin's opinion. “What would I sing? How would I even direct the energy?”
“Darling,” my mother said gently, “you're a spellsinger. Your whole ability to sing magic stems from us sirens. Sirens who lure people to them. And now you need to find those very same women. It seems rather perfect.”
“Alright.” I took a seat at the table and pondered the view. “Give me a second. Go ahead and eat while I think about this.”
I pulled out my iPod and started shuffling through the songs. My family, best friend, and boyfriend took seats around me and filled the silence with awkward conversation and chewing noises. My heart was racing with anxiety. I didn't want to fail them, especially not my parents. To look incompetent in front of the people who gave you life is never fun. I needed the perfect song to fuel my spell; something to direct my magic into a search for my family.
“I'll be right back,” I started to leave and Torin stood. “I'll be right back,” I repeated to him.”
“You don't want me to join you?” Torin lifted a brow. “Where are you going?”
“The beach,” I said simply. I couldn't tell Torin that I wanted to release Tell's essence before I tried to cast this spell. “I need to–”
“Connect with the water,” my mother came to my rescue. “It will be easier for her if she's alone.”
“Oh.” Torin frowned and sat back down.
“I won't be very long,” I went with my mother's explanation. “I just need to focus.”
“Alright. I'll wait here.”
“Pour the man a drink, Robert,” my mother said. “In fact, pour us all one.”
“Yes, dear,” my father walked back into the living room with me. When we were far enough away to not be overheard, he asked, “Why are you really going to the shore?”
“I made a bargain with an asrai,” I whispered. “He said he'll help me search for the sirens if I release his essence here.”
“An asrai?” Dad lifted his brows. “From Tír na nÓg?”
“That's right.” I smirked, knowing exactly where my father's thoughts were heading; the same place mine had. “Yes, it's how they migrate . . . and one of the ways they procreate, evidently.”
“Whoa.” Dad blinked. “Alright, go free the water-spirit. I'll hold the fort down while you're gone.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I kissed him on the cheek, and then hurried downstairs.
It wasn't a long trek to the beach, but it gave me enough time to come up with the perfect song to use when I returned. I guess a walk down to the beach really was what I needed. When I reached the shoreline though, I knew I couldn't just dump Tell's bottle into the water and head home. I needed to speak with him, remind him of our deal, and explain the new facets of it to him.
So I stripped off my clothes, took the bottle in hand, and waded into the water. When I reached waist-high waves, I opened the bottle, tossed the stopper to the shore, and then dove in. The solace of the sea surrounded me, and for a brief moment, I lost myself to its sanctuary. Floating weightless in saltwater is a comfort that is beyond compare. Then Tell's essence seeped out of the open bottle and condensed before me. He was right, he didn't take shape right away. Not his old shape, at least. But this new shape still held his sentience.
An amorphous form collected before me, paler in color than the water around it. It pulsed with light, in the tempo of a heartbeat. I reached out toward it, and it slid over my fingers like oil. Immediately, I connected with Tell again.
You have honored our agreement, spellsinger, Tell spoke in my mind. Now I shall honor it as well.
Wait, I directed my thoughts to it. Before you contact the other asrai, I have a question for you.
Ask it.
If I spellsing as you contact the others, do you think we can assist each other?
You mean; do I think your song will help us search and our search help your song?
Yes.
Tell was growing, pulling water into himself and changing the water into asrai. He was as large as a toddler now and gaining size rapidly. But he paused his transformation to consider my question.
Yes, I believe it will.
Then give me ten minutes to get back to my home, I said. I'll cast a song, and you can connect with my energy as well as that of the other asrai.
What a lovely introduction I shall have to them. Yes, I shall enjoy this. Thank you, spellsinger. I will make my mark upon this
new sea today.
Thank you, Tell.
I think I shall fully embrace this name you have given me. I like it. It is simple, yet has substance to it.
Wonderful. Good luck with your new life.
Good luck finding your lost ones. I shall do my best to help you.
Goodbye, Tell.
I hurried back to shore and pulled my clothes on over my wet body. A difficult task, but I didn't care. I hadn't thought to bring a towel, and I needed to get back to the Banyan as fast as possible. I didn't want to keep Tell and the other asrai waiting. So when I finally stepped back onto the balcony, I left wet, sandy footsteps in my wake. Something my mother would have scolded me for when I was a child. Today though, she barely paid it any mind.
“Are you focused?” Torin frowned at the state of me.
“Oh yeah.” I nodded and sent my father a secret look. “I needed that. I've come up with the perfect song.”
“Excellent,” my father declared. “Get to it, Ellie-phant.”
I rolled my eyes at my father as I went to the balcony's railing: a thick branch that wove around the outdoor space. Leaning against it gave me strength, a physical connection to the living home I'd grown up in. A connection to what made me, me. I pressed Play and stuck the earbuds in.
I had decided on a song that was not only about searching, but finding. A song to lead the sirens to me or me to them. “Dolphin's Cry” by Live. It was a journey of losing and then finding love again; how love itself can serve as the tool to bring people back together. That's exactly what we needed; to let our love lead us back to each other.
The music started out soft in my ears, a gentle caress to reassure me that everything would be alright. No matter how bad it was, hope was not lost. Then the song lifted up into something sweetly haunting. A pulse of romance. A sway of seduction. But I didn't need to seduce; I needed to find my missing family. So I let go of the romance and held tight to the familial bond.
All sirens are my family. The original four are the daughters of a river god named Achelous and his wife, Terpsichore. Those four women went on to birth several more sirens, all fathered by gods. When a god mates with a siren, you get another siren. So, it was briefly thought that sirens could only produce more sirens. But then one of the original four, my great grandmother Teles, fell in love with a witch. Teles gave birth to my Aunt Adelaid, the first spellsinger, and boy was that a bumpy journey of discovery.
