Father. Jeb. The sirens.
Bluff.
I clench my jaw and pull my body to my feet. I must live for myself now. I’ll choose what’s best for me. I am the only person I can trust.
So join them. My siren’s voice slither’s through my existence. That’s what you really want, isn’t it?
Maybe. No. I don’t know.
I press my eyes closed, determined more than ever not to get back in that water. No more swimming for me, I decide. Not for a while. I don’t trust myself in the water.
A low melody catches my attention, and the hair only arms stands at attention.
A sweet, somber melody, drifts from deep within the depths, upstream through the river currents, reaching around my mind, twisting itself through my soul. I blink, forcing my mind out of the hypnosis. Panic seizes me, and I push my body away from the water and run into the marsh, splashing through the muck, through the overgrowth. Bugs hit my face as I fly, away from the music. I didn’t hear much of the sound. I knew it was calling, and that was enough to know I had to get away.
My heart races as I run. I fall into a deep expanse of water. It splashes into my face, and I spit out the rancid taste. Keep moving. Keep going. I wade my way out, feet slipping in the muck, thinking only of escape, and yet I know I’m getting myself more and more lost.
I don’t know where I am or where I’m going, but it’s farther from the deep water, farther from the sea. And right now, that’s good enough.
Farther and farther I run, until I’m truly lost. Who knew this place was this expansive?
I may never make my way out.
Bluff
Whitley.
I picture her as I sing—flowing blonde hair and soft blue eyes—calling her soul to mine. But she doesn’t return the call. It’s a risky move, using my own siren magic to call her, knowing other sirens will certainly hear it as well. But I believed my Aunt when she said they were on their way, so it’s a calculated risk. If she comes to me because of my song, I can reach her before they do. It would be worth it.
Except it isn’t working.
I get no response. What does that mean? Either she hasn’t heard it—which seems unlikely; if she’s within a mile she should have—or she heard my desperate pleas and has fought against them. She’s rejected me.
I clench my jaw as I continue swimming slowly through the marshland’s deepest waters, where I assume she’ll be hiding out. I continue my song, but it becomes more and more desperate. Please.
Another song meets mine, magic swirling around it like a caress. My heart leaps, but then drops when I see an onyx tail swishing ahead, slipping through the shadows of the green swamp water. Bluff, she says gently.
My soul groans. If it’s not her, I’ve lost my chance of finding Whitley before they do. Now, it’s a matter of fighting.
You don’t need to fight me, Azalea says, swimming closer.
Perhaps not you. But how much farther is my mother?
Not very. You girl is in the marsh, avoiding the deeper waters. Azalea points off to my right, towards the bank.
Why would you tell me that? If it’s true.
I do as your mother commands. But that doesn’t mean I always agree.
I swallow, still deciding if I should trust her. My gut says yes, but my head says no.
A thought crosses my mind as I watch her black tail swishing through the dark waters.
Did my mother command you to kill Charlie? It’s an idea I’ve been wondering about for the last day and a half.
Azalea’s song freezes mid-note. She meets my eye, sadness filling her own. She doesn’t answer, but I can see the truth in her eyes. It was all part of my mother’s plan.
I shake my head. It was all her. The reason I hate sirens—she did it on purpose. Just to ensure a strong enough wedge could be placed between me and Whitley.
I flee from Azalea and pull my body up onto the bank and into the overgrowth of the marsh.
Whitley
I continue running, having no idea where I’m headed. I just know that I need to keep going. My teeth chatter as I move, slower and slower. Energy seeping out of me. I’m cold.
I’m scared.
I’m lost.
A shadow moves to my left, and I freeze, listening. Who is it? What is it? Everything is still, except the chirps of creatures I have no name for. Bugs fly in front of my face, and I swat them.
A twig snaps behind me and I jump, running forward again. Am I just being paranoid? Is it an animal? A person? A siren?
There’s a small forest ahead, the river behind me, and then marsh with shoulder-high grasses as far as I can see and slithering creatures creeping throughout. I have no idea where the city is from here. I don’t know how to get to anywhere other than more marsh. More swamp.
I’m entirely lost. I could probably get back to the river that leads me to New Orleans, but there are sirens there. I know it. I feel it.
I suppose, knowing where the river is, gives me a small clue as to which general direction to head, but it’s not like it’s entirely straight. It winds and turns. So it’s all just a guess.
I take my guess and begin moving to where I think—hope—the city is. And hope enemies are not.
I want Bluff. My heart cries for him.
I’m scared, and I long for his comfort. But I wouldn’t know how to find him, even if I did decide to trust him.
I walk slowly, my dress more brown than red now. Feet caked in muck. I just walk. Because there is nothing else to do.
Then a form blocks my path. Beyond the tall grass, someone stands there watching me. I freeze. “Hello?” I whisper, heart racing.
“Greetings, Whitley.” Her voice is calm, full of powerful confidence. “We’ve been looking for you.”
Bluff
I run through the marsh. Boots sticking in the mud, slipping at the most inopportune moments. “Whitley!” I begin to call, because the song isn’t working and I’m no longer worried about being heard by anyone else. They know we’re here. It’s just a matter of who finds her first. A matter of if I’ll even get the chance to fight.
I search myself for this power I’m supposed to have. If I’m part of this twin pairing, the son of the Siren Queen and the “King of the Sea” or whatever, I should be powerful.
I’ve always hid from any and all magic. In me. In the sea. In Whitley. But now, I realize I’m going to need it. Now would be the time, I tell myself. Stop hiding. Stop pulling back and fight.
Save her.
I must save her.
A form stands in front of me and I freeze, gasping. Azalea.
Her onyx tail awkwardly holds her upright. Her dark hair falls over her shoulder, dripping into the swamp beneath her. “Stop,” she says breathlessly.
“No,” I say, determined, ready to ram past her if necessary.
“It’s too late. They have her.”
I can’t breathe, lungs frozen. Broken.
“I don’t believe you,” I wheeze, and I begin a run, pushing past her. Her form turns translucent as she rushes to keep up with me. Stupid siren powers. She’s less powerful in this form, but not slower. Unfortunately.
“If you keep going, your mother will get you too. Run, Bluff. Save yourself.”
“No,” I say through gritted teeth, splashing through the muck. I refuse to give up.
“Listen. If you don’t believe me, use your ears. They celebrate in the waters.”
I pause, willing to do at least that. I listen for the sounds of the sirens. As far as miles out, all the way back to the harbor, there are screeches of joy. Of power, pouring from the waters.
I stop, blood running cold. I can feel her, Whitley. I can feel her power as it’s submerged. I can feel her thrashing, being pulled down, under the water. Under my mother’s magic.
Whitley
The Siren Queen’s hand is around my throat, constricting. I claw at her face, panic clouding my thoughts, and she drags me into the water.
I scream and c
ry and thrash against her power.
I search for my own power, the one they all want so badly. It explodes from my body in an instant, ready to fight for me. But the Siren Queen’s grip doesn’t loosen.
We fall through currents, struggling all the way to the river floor. Sediment stirs, sending a wall of puffy brown muck through the water.
I send out another flash of power, and she screams in agony, scales flying, and layers of skin peeling from her face, but her fingers dig deeper into my neck.
“You will not get away from this time!” she says through gritted teeth.
My power is met by hers, crashing together in a crackle of thunder. Her glistening magic rushes into my body, filling me until I can no longer move.
“You are mine now,” she whispers into my ear as my body falls limp, floating with her out towards the open ocean.
Bluff
I fall to my knees, hands shaking.
She’s already being pulled out to sea. I can feel her soul dying. Suffocating.
She’ll be gone in minutes. Not like last time, when I could reach her. I could hold her and pull her out of it. I run towards the waters, desperate for any way to stop it, but Azalea is close behind, and she grabs me by the arm.
“If you go, you’ll be a slave. It’s too late.”
“No. I can fight. It’s not too late. It can’t be.”
I search for her magic again, but it’s already so far. Past the docks. My mother has learned. She’ll keep her away from me, take her as far away as possible. Probably as far as the city in the depths.
My magic will always call to her, even in her siren form. That’s our nature. She’ll have to bring us together to use our power—the reason Azalea says I shouldn’t go find them now.
My mother wants us apart— but only for long enough to establish her power over her.
I continue my run, but it takes so achingly long to reach the water. I swim as quickly as I can, Azalea keeping up, slipping in and out of the shadows. She doesn’t try to stop me again. Once I reach the docks of the city, I search again.
I can’t feel her. I can only hear the song of victory in the open water, and even that is growing fainter.
“Run,” Azalea whispers again. “Please.”
I nod, breath leaving my lungs as I concede. I’m too late.
Whitley is gone.
STORM CLOUDS GATHER over New Orleans as I drag my body out of the water and onto rocky banks at the city edge. I walk slowly through the city, body hardly able to hold my weight any longer.
Did she know that was going to happen? When Whitley ran, when she entered the water, she must have known the sirens would get her eventually, right? Was she willing to condemn me?
I shake my head, unable to process it all. I don’t know what to think about any of it. What can I do now? Wait until they find me? Go looking? Kill myself so they can’t control me? I’ve found a way to pull Whitley out of her spell before. Perhaps I can do it again.
But I know my mother won’t give me even an inch to try. I’ll be shackled and gagged at all times.
As soon as I turn into the alleyway of the Silver Wing Tavern, Rosemera rushes to meet me. She throws her arms around me. “I’ve been worried about you,” she says. “Where is she? Did you find her?”
I shake my head, a sob catching in my throat. Rain escapes from the clouds above, pouring down on us. But I don’t move, so neither does Rosemera. “They have her.”
Rosemera doesn’t move. She doesn’t speak. She just looks at me with those intense brown eyes. “So what now?” she asks, fear laced in her words.
“Give up?” I say even though I don’t mean it. I feel so broken. So tired of losing, over and over. I know without a doubt that I won’t get the upper hand again.
She doesn’t even acknowledge my answer. “We’ll ride west. The farther we are from the sea the safer you’ll be.”
I shake my head. I don’t want that.
Perhaps I do. Maybe it’s the better option, rather than letting my mother control me. But I don’t want to run from Whitley. Evil siren or not. My soul longs to be near her. Just as my soul longs to be near the sea.
“You must go somewhere, Bluff. You can’t stay here.” She grabs my arm and pulls me towards the inn. “You look awful. How about we sleep, we eat. Then we’ll run. Together.”
I don’t speak. I can’t bring myself to.
“You can do this,” she whispers, but even in her voice there is desperation. She knows how dim this looks. My chances of making it out of this are getting slimmer and slimmer.
Part of me wants to give in and just stop running from my fate. Let my mother take what she wants. She’ll control me, she’ll use her magic to make me do things. Terrible things. She’ll rule the sea, with me as her slave. Using Whitley to continue my agony. She’ll torture me, emotionally and physically.
Shit. I shake my head of the image. Rosemera is right. I should run.
Whitley’s life as a siren won’t be all that bad if I’m not there. I mean, she won’t remember who she is, she’ll be lost to the fate of animal over person with free will. Perhaps that is its own punishment. But at least she won’t know it.
“You’re right. We should run,” I say, my voice gravelly.
Bluff
I wake when the sky is still dark. Rosemera sits at the small window at the edge of the room. I wonder how much she can actually see out there. The glass is smudged and dim, the window facing the alley. Can she even see the sky? Or is it just the muck-filled gutter that holds her attentions so strongly?
Snores fill the room, and I look over at the two other makeshift straw beds. Knick and Bingo sleep in each other’s arms. I’d never taken time to get to know the two, but from this one snapshot, it seems their relationship is a strong one. Robert is sprawled out on his bed. I twist so my feet hit the ground quietly, then walk slowly to reach her.
She jumps when I’m only a foot from the window by which she sits. Then she looks up and smiles. I sit beside her.
“No sleep for you?”
She shakes her head. “Did you get much rest? It’s the middle of the night still.”
“I feel a bit better,” I shrug. Enough sleep to release some of the panic, but not the sadness. Never the sadness. I feel empty without her.
I lean over to peek out of her little window. “Good view?”
She smirks. “Glorious. It’s just something to look at other than this room. I considered going out to the docks. At least there I could hear the water. Fresh air. Wind tickling my toes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I was afraid you wouldn’t be here when I got back.” She looks down at her feet.
I pause. Quiet for a long while. “I wouldn’t do that.” I don’t think.
She doesn’t respond, and I just sit next to her. Soaking in the dark.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
She looks at me. “For what?”
“Being my friend. I don’t trust many people. I’ve learned not to. But you...”
She nods, setting her hand on mine. “I’ll always care about you,” she says, and my stomach sinks.
I nod in return.
“Are you really going to run with me?” she whispers.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“I’m scared of losing you.”
I bite my lip and pause before giving her my next response. It feels harsh somehow, but true. “I’m scared of losing her.”
She winces. “But haven’t you already?”
My eyebrows pull down. Perhaps, but... “What if I haven’t?”
Her bottom lip trembles, and I pretend not to notice. I look into the darkness of the room, listening to the snores. She stands after a moment, pacing the room. She walks to the door, then back to me. Then back to the door.
“Let’s...” She stops, her voice no longer quiet, and the snores halt. The bodies in the beds don’t shift, but I know they’re listening now. “Let’s get out of t
his town now while we can. Then we’ll figure out the next step.”
I open my mouth to object, but she cuts me off.
“Don’t make a decision while you’re emotional. Please, give it another day. And if you decide...” She pauses. “That,” she forces out like she can’t bear to say the words, “...is the right choice, I’ll sail with you to the middle of sea to bid you farewell.”
I swallow. “You’re the best, Rosemera,” I whisper. “I don’t deserve you.”
Her smile is sad. Both Robert and Knick are watching now, their eyes mirror each other’s emotions. Sadness? Jealousy? I don’t have the emotional capacity to analyze what’s happening with them, and her. I only have enough energy to focus on myself. And a little left over for my best friend, who only wants to save me pain.
Whitley
The water glistens like shards of glass and cuts just as deep. Soon, darkness envelopes me, even the sun blinking out, drowned out by the depths of the sea.
Farther and farther we drift, and more and more pain grips me. My heart is ripped apart, slowly. Water seeps into the cracks. Gentle, like a caress. So why does it hurt so badly?
It’s like acid burning all the way to my soul. But even that—my soul—is losing its grip. Burning away. I can feel it turning to ash until there is nothing left.
I writhe in pain, pulled deeper below.
Who is pulling me?
Who am I?
Bluff
Sunrise is still hours away, but our party packs for our journey. With this large of a group, a carriage is unwise. I can’t disguise all of us properly. We’re too much of a ragtag group not to garner attention. So we set out on foot, walking through the open marshes as the sky lightens, turning to from purples and blues to oranges and yellows and finally to a pretty light blue.
Treacherous Love Page 14
