I clench my jaw. He’s more worried about losing the battle than losing me.
Bluff, my heart aches for him. I want him to accept me. Tears sting my eyes. Is that so much to ask?
“What if I can’t do it?” he whispers.
It’s quiet, and my breaths hitch with each inhale, but I close my eyes and press my forehead to the door. It’s a long while until someone speaks.
“Then you live up to your name,” Rosemera says in a determined tone. “You fake it. Make her believe it.”
A song of wrath and agony fills my heart, and my muscles clench so strongly it sends jolts of pain through every inch of my body, and then they release. My hands fall to my sides, shoulders slump. All life bleeding out of me.
I wait. Just on the off chance that he denies it. That he stands up for me. Says he couldn’t ever do that. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything else, and I know the truth deep in my soul.
He can’t ever love me like this.
But he’ll pretend to.
He’ll use me to save himself and drop me when the storm settles. Perhaps he loved me once, but he won’t ever love me again.
Bluff
I can’t even wrap my mind around what Rosemera said. Pretend? To what? Love her? Or love her and just learn to hide my reaction to her siren?
I close my eyes and lay my head back against the bed, closing my mind off because I can’t cope with this. The confusion. The doubt. It’s stupid, isn’t it?
This is Whitley we’re talking about.
I suddenly long to hold her, brush her blond hair from her eyes. Be with her. Make sure she’s all right. Fix all my mistakes and make sure she knows, without any doubt, that I will always love her.
I can’t pretend. I won’t. I’ll find a way to free her of the siren magic, or I’ll learn to accept it. Because the other option is losing her.
And I won’t do it.
I open my eyes and stand suddenly.
“What are you doing?” Rosemera says.
“Going to find her.”
Whitley
I clench my fists as I stand at the edge of the peer, staring at the water. It’s everything I can do to stop myself from screaming. The green tinge shimmers over the small ripples. Sailors shout and grunt behind me. Several sets of eyes have turned to watch me, wondering what I’m doing.
I wonder the same.
Bluff doesn’t want me. Not the same way he did before, and now I know I can’t trust him. He’ll do and tell me whatever he must to keep me under his spell. So I can’t stay.
I just... I’m not sure what options that leaves me. I long for the water, I long for the sea. The salt filling my lungs. Water cocooning me with safety and belonging.
But to enter the sea would mean certain destruction for Bluff. And I won’t do that to him, no matter what he feels about me. He might not love me unconditionally, but I won’t let that change how I feel.
I love him. And I don’t want to hurt him. So, that means I can’t stay with him.
But I also can’t go to them. I’m back to where I was in New York. No one to trust. No one to turn to. Nowhere to belong.
I suck in a breath. I know what I need to do, I just need to make sure I’m able. That even in the water I can keep control over my instincts that will pull me towards the open sea. My bare foot sits on the corner of the wood. Slowly, I shift my weight, then all at once dive into the shimmering water.
Salt is the key to limiting the siren magic in the water. Which means if I stay in the fresh water of the river and marshlands—and avoid going too close to the bay where salt meets fresh—I should be able to stay out of their grasp.
Part of me wants to swim all the way back to the witch. She was kind enough. But I know better than to trust her. She’s still a siren. She’s still the sister of my sworn enemy. The creature who wants to take away my memories and enslave me to get to Bluff.
I won’t let her. Even if that means being alone.
Water cocoons me, and I let the sob I’ve been holding back release as the arms of the water surround me.
I cry as I slip deeper. Destined to be alone.
Bluff
I’ve searched for a full hour and still haven’t seen her. My anxiety rises every minute that passes without finding her. I pace outside the inn, hoping to God she’ll turn the corner any minute. Please, I beg to no one in particular. Please.
She’s gone, a whisper floats through the wind. Find her.
I shake my head. No. She’s can’t be gone. I’d know it if she were... I think.
My hands tremble as I fidget with my clothing.
“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Rosemera says, watching me from the doorpost.
I wring my hands.
“She’ll come back. Just give her time.”
My stomach twists. Logically, she’s right. It’s only been a few hours since our fight. I’m not so sure now. The more time that passes... She’d have to come back, right? She wouldn’t have run off.
She’s gone, the whisper had said. Perhaps I should be listening to that instinct. Or whatever it is.
Shit.
I stop to consider this possibility and how very, very bad it would be if she ran off.
The little sewer pirate boy walks up the alley slowly, hands in his pockets, feet tossing up dust as he slides them. “Have you seen her?” I ask, remembering they were friends. Perhaps he’s talked to her. Perhaps he knows where she is.
He nods slowly.
“Where?” I ask breathlessly
“I was with her earlier, but then she came back here to see you.”
I furrow my eyebrows, trying to figure this out. I never saw her. Did I miss her or...
“But then I saw her running away from here, towards the docks. I wanted to talk with her, but she seemed upset so I gave her a minute. Then, before I could say anything she dove into the water.”
I let out a breath and then shake my head. No, no, no.
I spin around, running my hands through my hair again. Where would she go? She’s not with the sirens yet, right? There’s only one place I can think she might head to. One place I might be able to stop the worst from happening.
“Bluff,” Rosemera says sharply. “Oi!” she says, stepping forward, but I ignore her. “It doesn’t have to mean—” I don’t let her finish her sentence. It doesn’t matter what she thinks it means.
I sprint away, running down the alley towards the docks. I don’t care what people think or say as I fly past them. My eyes are only for the docks and the river beyond. Only for where I might find her.
If Whitley entered the water, it could mean a million different things, but one thing I do know—it means Whitley is vulnerable.
It probably means she’s given up on me. It probably means I’ve messed up again and hurt her. But, though my heart screams in agony, I ignore those thoughts. I just have to get there. I must know.
Find her, the voice has said.
“Where?” I ask breathlessly even as I run past the market and onto the docks. I keep sprinting, dodging sailors when necessary, and then dive straight into the water the moment I can.
Find her, it says again.
Well, that’s helpful. I roll my eyes and I swim towards the magic caves, hoping against hope that I’m right. It’s a stupid choice, because we shouldn’t trust the witch. But one thing my aunt made clear was that she wasn’t on my mother’s side in this battle. That doesn’t mean she’s on ours, but I suppose we could have worse allies. And at this point, I’d do anything— even trust a siren witch—if I could just talk with Whitley right now.
Find her, the voice says again. Yeah, definitely not just my imagination. Is this the Whisper on the Wind Aunt Emil spoke of? Find her.
Yes, I think, I get it.
Before they do.
I shiver.
I DON’T DARE SLOW DOWN as I enter the pitch-black beneath the swamp, dipping low and trusting my instincts and memory to get me through the hazardous are
as. My limbs are buzzing, teeth chattering. I will find her, I tell myself. I’ll find her.
The last time Whitley ran away, she managed to escape the sirens, even in the middle of the ocean—impressive. But it drove her deeper into her siren instincts. She followed both—what memories she had left, and her siren instincts. I’m not sure where she’d go this time, because we’re much too far from anywhere she knows. It would take her days to swim anywhere familiar. Except the only place we’ve been in this part of the world.
Another siren that has managed to stay out of the siren politics and control. Last time I was right in guessing where she’d go. I hope I’m right again.
I don’t slow down as it’s time to emerge from the water, and I come up too high, slamming my head on the hard stone. I groan and hold the spot as I move forward quickly.
“Aunt Emil,” I call, as I rush forward, feet slipping on the stone steps.
“About time you showed up, boy.”
“Is she here?” I ask breathlessly. “Tell me she’s here.” I turn the corner and find my gray-haired aunt sitting on her stone ledge, arms crossed, eyebrow hitched.
“She’s not here.”
“Fuck,” I spit.
“Language, boy. She’s not here, but she’s not far.”
I swallow.
“What did you do?” Emil says, hand son her hips. Don’t you already know? I think to myself. She reads minds, apparently. Why not now?
“Oh, I’m reading. But that doesn’t mean it’s not healthy to speak your thoughts aloud. So, what did you do?”
My breath catches. “We got in a fight. But I didn’t think...”
“What do you think, then?”
I swallow. “I think she overheard a conversation she shouldn’t have.” I wince. I don’t know what she heard. I’m not sure I even want to know.
Emil nods. “She seems under the impression you’re faking your feelings for her.”
I press my eyes closed, frustration and agony building until I must let it out. I slam my fist on the rock beside me, then shake out the pain as is ricochets up my arm. Emil rolls her eyes.
Why does this keep happening? Why does she always run away?
“You expect her to stay with a boy who only half wants to be near her? Fight against every instinct just to be with you—when you don’t even want to be with her.”
I press my hand to my stomach, pressing hard to control the pain. “No,” I whisper. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?”
“NO!” I yell. But I understand why Whitley thinks it. I see all of my mistakes so clearly now. I... I’m the biggest fool alive. But I would do anything for her. I will do anything.
Emil studies me. “She’s attempting to remain undetected, but that will only work for so long. They know you’re here. They’re coming.”
“Where is she?” I say between heaving breaths.
“Let me ask you a question,” she says slowly. I want to shake her. Does she not understand what’s at stake?
“Of course I understand, fool. But this is important too.”
“Fine. Go on,” I say.
“Why are you so panicked?”
Are you kidding?
“Is it because you’re worried for her safety? Or because you know what will happen to you if she’s captured again?”
I pause, mouth slightly ajar. “Both?” I say, voice catching.
“Mmmhmmm. Be honest. With yourself, at least.”
I take a deep breath and push through my heart and mind. “Her,” I whisper. That’s the truth. “I care more about her than I do me.” I know the dangers. I know what’s at stake, and that’s always in the back of my mind. But the thing that burns like a fire under my heart—is a desperate need to be with her. A need for her to know that I love her. More so than the worry of what the sirens will do to her. I suppose that’s still a bit selfish, but it’s not desire for my well-being fueling me now. It’s my heart.
Emil gives a sharp nod. “Good,” she says. “Because otherwise, you will fail.”
I swallow, thinking I know what she means. Maybe. “You told me once that I couldn’t run from my fate. You were right, then.” I say.
“I am usually right.” She nods.
“So what about now?” I close my eyes. Hating this conversation. Hating how much it feels like giving up. But perhaps, I must start playing this game differently. Playing it by fate’s rules.
“Now is different. And the same.”
I roll my eyes. “What the hell does that mean?” Not at all in the mood for cryptic shit. I want to know if it’s fruitless. Is it even possible to win?
“The prophecy only says that she will have the ability to control you until death. That will come to pass. You die or you accept her dominance.”
My heart seizes. “But it doesn’t say that anyone else will control her. The prophecy is only half the story. The end is unwritten.”
“So there is still hope?”
She nods. “She will control you. But you were created to be equals. What your mother is doing is against nature. That doesn’t mean she won’t succeed, but it does mean that fate has not decided. Will you prove yourself worthy?”
I shake my head, trying to let all of her words sink in. I know I can’t completely trust her, but she’s the only thing I have right now. I need her help. I have no choice but to believe her words. So I grasp at them like water to a dying man. “She thinks the reason our power is failing is because I don’t... accept her.”
“You do have some siren issues to deal with, that’s surely true.”
I bite the inside of my lip. “She thinks I don’t love her unconditionally.”
One of her eyebrows flicks up in an incredibly annoying way. “True unconditional love is very rare.”
I pull in a long breath. “What does that mean?” Not liking her implication. I do love her, even as a siren.
“Tell me something,” she says, folding her hands together. “If she were to fall to your mother, and become a siren once and for all—what would you do?”
My breath catches. “Run.” What else is there to do? If Whitley is under her control—completely—she won’t remember. She won’t have human emotions. Not only would Whitley not know me from Adam, she wouldn’t be capable of caring about me.
“You’d give up,” she says in a way that leaves me wondering if it’s a statement or a question.
I consider the other times my mother almost won, but that’s not what we’re talking about. She asking me what I would do if Whitley’s soul drowned so completely, she’d never resurface. Whitley would be dead, and a siren would inhabit her body. “What’s my other option?”
Emil steps forward suddenly, her eyes fiery as she grabs my shoulders in her clawed hands. “Fight,” she hisses, squeezing so tightly I wince at the sting of her nails pressing into my skin.
I’m too shocked to move until she releases me and turns away, shaking her head as she does, but she doesn’t say more. Silence settles between us. My heart pounds heavily.
She turns towards me slowly, her pupil’s dilated, making her look even more animalistic than usual. “Find her before they do,” she says quietly. “If you fail again, you mother will control her and—well, you may not like how this story ends.”
Whitley
The water fills my soul. My mind.
My body is pulled towards the sea. Skin itching for salt. Thirsty for it. I float, pulled toward the ships coming into the city harbor.
Don’t go there.
Why? I don’t remember.
I shake my head. Bluff. That’s why. Because it’ll hurt him.
I blink. Trying to wrap my mind around it. My magic pulses, rhythmic with the rush of waves all the way out at sea. My instincts are stronger in the water, and it’s so much harder to control them. But I must.
Shifting closer to the bank, I focus on my surroundings. The swamp is greenish, and not in a pretty way. I long for the clear blue of the Caribbean. It’s no
t far, I know. Just a few miles down the river...
I stop, noticing a set of yellow eyes staring at me from the bank. I note the creature’s sharp teeth and large jaws and remember the witch’s warning.
I swim away but search for a safe spot on the bank. Somewhere I can exit the water and let my mind rest. Where I might refuel without the sea’s hypnotic influence.
I find a clear muddy bank and pull my body out of the green water and onto the squishy mud. I wince at the feeling of the grit and slime beneath me, but I heave in breaths of open air.
Sirens will find me if I go to the open ocean. They’ll find me if I don’t keep my wits about me. And I can’t let them find me.
You’ll forget, my siren says with a slithering voice. It’ll be easier that way.
That’s true. It would be. I wouldn’t hurt anymore. I would have power and magic and freedom... well, actually, no, not that. I wouldn’t have freedom because the moment I forget who I am, the moment I let the siren magic rule me, the Siren Queen rules me. It’s siren nature to submit to the queen. And this queen happens to be a sadistic asshole that wants to use my power to take over the world.
Perhaps I should head farther inland where I can better control my instincts. Where the sea is not so temptingly close. Where I can’t hear those songs, calling me.
Find a nice lake on the mainland somewhere. Live alone, forever.
My heart aches. Am I sure I’m making the right choice?
Fake it. Make her believe it. Rosemera’s words cut deep. His hesitancy shoves the blade deeper. Why didn’t he tell her off? Why didn’t he insist he loves me?
Why did he ask the question to start with? What if I can’t? He’d asked her, in a moment of true vulnerability.
He asked because he knew the truth, felt it deep in his bones. Because he doesn’t accept my siren—he can’t.
How do I trust him after that? How do I live, always wondering if his actions are sincere or if he just wants me to believe him for his own good? They’ve all used me. Abused me. Controlled me.
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