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Treacherous Love

Page 11

by Stacey Trombley


  I smirk at the quirky old woman. She turns to me quickly, head whipping at an unnatural speed.

  “Do not call me old,” she says.

  I freeze. What... “I didn’t say it.”

  “Then don’t think it.”

  I swallow but can’t help but allow my lips to turn up. Well then. “My apologies,” I say, and she inclines her head. I’ll have to watch what I think around this... lovely woman.

  She smiles, but her eyes are for Bluff. “Tell me what you came for, lad. I have a nap to catch.”

  “We need to know more about the prophecy.”

  “Ah, yes.” Her shoulders deflate. “That old dreaded thing.” She rolls her eyes. “What precisely?”

  “Several things, really.”

  “So this is going to take a while? Alright, might as well get comfortable, then.” She hops from her spot on the ledge and moves farther through her cave. We follow quickly, over a large boulder and ducking down below an overhang. We stop as she splashes into a shallow pool which bubbles oddly.

  “Feel free to join me,” she tells us. “Water is warm.”

  Steam rises from the pool from what I must imagine is magic. I’ve heard of hot springs before, but not this far south. But then again, what do I know of the world?

  Bluff crosses his arms, clearly uninterested in joining his aunt, but I find myself curious. “That’s it, dear. As I said, I don’t bite.”

  “The bite isn’t the part to worry about,” Bluff mutters.

  Even so, I step into the unnaturally hot waters and shiver. It burns for a moment but in a pleasant way. I slide my body into the water and I find an uneven rock to sit on, and immediately every muscle relaxes. I smile over at Emil.

  “So now, ask your questions, boy.”

  He nods and squats down so he’s closer to us. “I know you made the prophecy but can you tell us more about what it means?”

  She chews on the inside of her lip as she considers him. “I knew no more than you when I made the prophecy,” she says.

  “But you know more now?” I infer.

  She shakes her head. “Ask me some specific questions and I’ll be happy to answer what I can. But only because I like you.” She smiles big and toothy, exposing a set of sharp, discolored teeth.

  “What does my mother want with us? What does she intend to do with the power?”

  “Ahh, quite a deep question, Bluff. I’m impressed. Most assume she just wants to hold whatever power she can. She sees power, and she grabs its. That’s not untrue, but she does have specific intentions in this case.”

  “Which are?”

  “It’s quite complicated, but she intends to overthrow the balance.”

  “Balance?” I ask.

  “Everything is in balance, dear. Good and Evil. Light and Dark. Earth and Sea. There is a reason for this balance. The sea has a large amount of magic, as you should already be well aware. There is structure to this magic to ensure it remains in balance. Together, you two hold a large portion of the Sea’s power. Your mother holds a large amount as well. But for the first time—ever, so far as I can tell—there is the potential to alter the current balance of the sea, so that she rules it all. That’s her plan anyway. Fairly ill-conceived if you ask me. But she never does.”

  “What is the purpose of our power? Why do we have it to start with?” I ask.

  Her eyebrows rise. “Ah! Another good question. My, I’m enjoying this much more than I’d expected. I thought you would be begging me to help kill her. Instead, I get well thought-out inquiries.”

  “Just answer the question, please,” Bluff says in a flat voice.

  She rolls her eyes. “Yes, well. Part of the answer is that it was accidental, at least to this extent. You see, there are several reigning powers over the sea. Sources, as I like to call them.” She bites at her nails casually. “The magic is split into these three major sources so that one single soul cannot hold them all. The sirens are one such designation—between them all, they hold one third of the sea’s magic. The next is the King of the Sea, who is quite near immortal and holds, again, one third of the magic.”

  “What?” Bluff asks, incredulously. She ignores him.

  “Next are the twin souls.”

  I blink, heart freezing. What?

  “Two souls, reincarnated over and over again. Meant to hold their one third of power between the two of them.”

  “Reincarnated?” That has to be me and Bluff right? That means...

  “Well, no one knows if it’s the same two souls over and over, or different chosen-ones, each new generation, because they never remember the life before, but regardless, the root of the story remains the same. They, together, hold one third of the sea’s power.”

  “Twin souls,” Bluff repeats.

  “Is that like... soul mates?” I ask, hoping it’s not a stupid question.

  “Yes and no. Similar concept, two souls born as half of a whole, destined to find each other. It does not always translate to love. Sometimes mortal enemies, in fact. But whatever the emotions, they are generally very strong.”

  My stomach sinks. That means Bluff could love me. Passionately. Or he could hate me for what I am. It’s up to him to decide. What if he already has? And what if it’s an answer I don’t like?

  “This generation, unfortunately, some of these lines have been blurred. The prophecy’s purpose was to signal an unprecedented overlap in power all surrounding the twin souls.”

  “Us.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Firstly, one half of the Twin Souls happens to be the new heir of the King of the Sea. The other half has siren blood. With the powers stacked in such a way, it has left things... open to manipulation.”

  “By my mother,” Bluff says, biting his lip thoughtfully.

  The Sea Witch nods.

  I narrow my eyes, sifting through all of this information. We both have siren blood, but it was me that was turned. Not Bluff. So is he the heir she mentioned? “Son of the sea,” I whisper. “What does it mean?”

  “Son of the Siren Queen,” Bluff says slowly.

  “And the King of the Sea,” the witch adds.

  Bluff

  “All right, you’re making this up.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  Aunt Emil laughs. “I am not.”

  “King of the Sea? You know how stupid it sounds?”

  Her smile fades. “I dare you to say that to him.”

  “I can’t. Because he doesn’t exist.”

  She rolls her eyes, and my anger simmers. “Then why have I never heard of him? A single person with the power of all the sirens combined. That’s what you’re telling me, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why has no one ever heard of him?”

  “No one has ever heard of the twin souls, either.”

  “Because you made that up too! It’s a cute story, but it’s moronic. Reality isn’t like that.”

  “Oh, my Bluff. Just when I thought you had some wisdom to you.” Emil turns to Whitley, who’s staring wide-eyed at me. Face drained of color. “What do you think?” she asks her.

  She wets her lips. “I... I believe you.”

  “Good.” She nods once. “The wise one of the two. Good to know.”

  I roll my eyes. She never liked me. Probably because I never took her shit.

  Whitley turns to me, her eyes soft with confusion. “We came here because she had answers. Why would you bring us if you thought she’d just make something up?”

  I shrug. “I didn’t think she would.”

  “Then let’s at least hear her out, and we can decide what we believe later.”

  I shrug and roll my eyes. “Fine.”

  “So if Bluff is the son of that... source, what does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means he’s the heir. The king still lives, and in all likelihood will live another several thousand years, so he holds the power indefinitely. But there is always an heir, someone with links ready to absorb his power... in cas
e he was killed.”

  “If he dies, Bluff would inherit that power.”

  She nods. “Eleuthera—Bluff’s mother— has always coveted his power. She wants to be the Queen of the Sea. But she cannot hold that power, because there will always be an heir. If one is killed, another is chosen. She cannot kill her way into it.”

  “But if Bluff inherits that power,” Whitley says. “After his mother firmly established magical control over him...”

  “Now you have the idea.”

  I roll my eyes. “Then why not turn me like she did with Whitley? If she made me a full siren, I’d be compelled to obey her just like Whitley is.” Then she could kill the Sea King and have her power through me all the same.

  A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of being controlled. Enslaved. Regardless of whatever power they think I could have. It’s my worst fear, and it’s exactly what they all want.

  “Aye, she could do that. But the moment you became a siren, you’d be disinherited and another would be chosen.”

  I sigh. “But not Whitley...” She was made a siren but didn’t lose her magical inheritance.

  “You cannot choose another twin soul. Only death would free you.”

  I shake my head, still not buying a word of this crock.

  “How would one kill him?” Whitley says softly. “You said he was immortal.”

  “Nearly immortal. All three sources have—”

  “He doesn’t exist, Whitley.” I can’t help it. “I’m telling you. My father was some helpless sailor somewhere who happened to catch the Siren Queen’s eye and impregnate her before she drowned him. That’s it. That’s the story.”

  “Have you never felt his influence?” Emil says sharply, stopping to study me. “The way the wind pulls you. That is not a siren power. You must have realized that by now.”

  I pause, but refuse to fall for it.

  “You’ve never felt his whisper on the wind?”

  Whitley gasps. Of course. She’s going to play into her belief that she heard something on the wind that one time. But Emil doesn’t turn to Whitley. She keeps her beady eyes on me.

  Silence settles between us. Whitley doesn’t speak, and neither do I.

  Finally, Emil’s shoulders relax.

  “I’ll let him call to you in his own time,” she says softly. “His voice and power are in the wind and in the waves. Listen for him. He does not show himself fully. At least not that I’ve heard.”

  “Rather convenient.” I mutter. Though I suppose it won’t hurt to listen more closely. If something is whispering to me, I’ll hear it. If not, I’ll know she’s insane.

  “As I was saying,” Emil continues, speaking to Whitley, “all three sources have even power. One cannot kill another, not that they haven’t tried over the eons. But one against another simply causes havoc and inevitable impasse, causing destruction in the world around them until they concede or the third power intercedes by choosing a side.

  “One source—once at full power—can only be defeated with the combination of the other two. The King of the Sea is named such because his power is central to one single being, but he has no direct power over the others. The twins are next in the perceived hierarchy. Then the sirens, whose power is split by thousands. They are only at their true full strength if every siren in the sea is brought together in one massive army.”

  So if my mother controls Whitley, and Whitley controls me, she would have two thirds of this supposed power. That’s if any of this is true.

  I shake my head. Whether her stories are true or not, our reality has not changed. We must learn to work together to defeat my psychotic mother.

  “Very well, story time is over. Next order of business. When Whitley uses her power— this... source power, or whatever you call it, she loses her memories. Why? How can we stop that from happening?”

  The witch purses her lips. “Interesting. I’d not heard of such a thing. I suppose...” She taps her finger to her lips. “She became a siren by being drowned by magic. It overcomes all of her senses, her consciousness, her soul, until all that is left is basic instinct. In a human, it would simply kill them. In a siren, it leaves them with only their instinctual magic left to cling to. I suppose, perhaps it doesn’t need to be siren magic that drowns you. It can be your own, if you don’t know how to wield it properly.”

  Well, at least that makes sense. “So how do we stop it? Or can we not?”

  “You combine your power. She is not meant to use this power on her own. She has the alpha power, clearly— “

  “What does that mean?” Whitley interrupts. At least it wasn’t me this time.

  “You are the stronger of the two. Barely, but even still. This also explains why you’re able to control him.”

  “Shouldn’t the male be the alpha?” she asks.

  “Why?” the witch tilts her head.

  Whitley shrugs. “Just seems like that’s how it works.”

  “Gender plays no part here. Either of you could have the alpha power. Both of you could have been born woman. Both of you male. All the twin power means, really, is that the power is split between two people. They are connected and strengthened by joining together. One simply has the dominant power.”

  The witch turns back to me. “Whitley holds slightly more power, but she is vulnerable, thanks to your mother. She needs you to steady her. To balance her. If you don’t learn to use your power alongside of her, she will fail and you both will be lost to your mother’s plot. Then she will turn her attention to the Whisperer. She’ll have the power to destroy him.”

  “But why? Why kill him?”

  Aunt Emil smiles, exposing her sharp teeth. “Don’t you see?”

  Whitley shivers.

  “If she kills the Whisperer, she’ll have control over the King as well.”

  Whitley’s eyes dart to me. Me. I would be the new king, so long as I’m not siren. If she regains control over Whitley, she’ll have the power to enslave us both. If she uses this power to kill the King, or whatever, I would then have his power.

  It would make my mother the true queen of the sea, with no one to rival her. She’d have it all. All three source powers under her command.

  Emil nods. “Now you understand. She seeks to gain every ounce of the sea’s power. She can do anything she desires once she has that.”

  “There will be no one to challenge her.”

  Perfect. All of it’s on me now. I’m the weak one, the one that can’t use my own power. And if I don’t figure it out, I’ll condemn Whitley to life as a soulless siren, and me to a life of slavery.

  “That’s about the size of it,” Emil says, nodding in my direction.

  I groan and drop my head into my hands.

  Whitley

  Bluff and I swim away from the Sea Witch without speaking another word to each other. I thanked his aunt for her information. And for not alerting other sirens to our whereabouts, which was a concern from the beginning. Bluff didn’t say a thing.

  I know better than to trust such a woman, but believing her information—that’s something different. I did believe it. The pieces all fit. They made sense. And they explained so much.

  Those were the answers we needed. Even if they weren’t the most pleasant, I hadn’t expected them to be.

  Bluff has been even more sullen than usual, since we left the witch. Even once we reach the harbor, he doesn’t speak. Doesn’t look back to make sure I’m there. He just stomps down the dark alley and into the inn, clothes still soaked through and dripping everywhere. The Silver Wing has a few rooms above their bar, which they rent for cheap. Rosemera and her crew had rented the lot for the week, so we have an easy place to lay our heads. Even if it means the ground beside their beds.

  Bluff stomps up the stairs and into the designated room. I follow as he strips down to only his trousers, and he lays down on the hard-wooden floor. I sigh and follow suit, because, what else am I supposed to do?

  I am satisfied in our answers. But it does
leave me frustrated that so much is up to him, not me. I feel helpless. Waiting for him to decide if he wants to support me, love me, siren or not. That’s what’s holding us back, I realize.

  I’m a siren, and every moment he’s reminded of it, he pulls away. We’ll never be able combine our power and fight if he doesn’t forgive me for something entirely out of my control.

  Bluff

  Only a few hours later, stomping feet and chattering voices wake me from a deep slumber. I groan and roll over to hide my face from the light streaming through the window.

  A pillow hits me in the head. “Put some clothes on!” Rosemera yells as me.

  I roll my eyes, face still pressed to the wood floor. I’m only missing my shirt. She’s very much exaggerating.

  “Where’s Whit?” a small voice asks.

  I lift my head, hardly able to open my eyes. Is she not here? I look around. Rosemera, Knick, Robert, and Bingo are crowded into the small room. Knick steps over me to reach the door. “Has anyone seen her?” I ask, voice still thick with sleep.

  “You look awful,” Rosemera says.

  “Has anyone seen Whitley?” I ask again, more firmly.

  Everyone shakes their heads. I groan and let my face fall back onto the hard floor. “Move to the bed,” Rosemera says. “I’ll go look for her.”

  I push my body from the floor, feeling a thousand pounds. I can barely even bend my arms, and my back is throbbing. I’d forgotten about rowing that boat for hours yesterday. My body is going to hate me for a few days. “No, I need to go,” I tell Rosemera. Things are still questionable between us, probably my fault—everything is, isn’t it?

  Regardless, I need to talk with her.

  Every step hurts as I walk down the steps to the now quiet tavern house and out onto the street. This time, I don’t know where to look to find her, so I just do a quick walkthrough of the area around our dinky public house. Dark alleys and gutters, with wafting smells so pungent I don’t want to even consider what’s in them, out onto the street where a few vendors sell wares very obviously stolen or fake. Still no sign of her. This city is massive, so there is no hope of finding her if she’s gone off somewhere deeper in the city. But there is one other place I might find her.

 

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