Aldan snorted, “I think she’d bury each and every book in my library, and that makes her a raving lunatic as far as I’m concerned. She’s flawed, girl! As flawed as any other person in the Overworld or the Realm. People are always a heterogeneous mixture of good and evil— the Lady of Flowers is no exception.”
I flipped back a page, staring at King Dorian. Marin’s father. He looked kind in the image, noble. But from what I’d seen of his interactions with his own daughter, I could certainly believe he was imperfect. The artist had sketched a heavy coral crown with pearls and other precious gems upon his head. Probably a formality— I didn’t seen him wear one when I’d met him.
I glanced at the notations.
His Royal Majesty King Dorian Ocean Kai Whitecrest, King of the Oceanids
Son of King Tidus, Third of His Name.
Multiple daughters, no sons.
Heir apparent: Her Royal Highness Princess Marin Ocean Adamaris Whitecrest.
I brought my eyes up, jumping a little. Aldan’s gaze was fixed on me hungrily, “Girl, siren, I would like to try an experiment.”
I looked into his eyes suspiciously, closing the book, “Sir?”
“I would like to hear you sing for me,” he said. He removed his spectacles and wiped at them again.
I shook my head. “No, sir. I don’t sing.”
“It is in the interests of science, girl, surely you can see that—”
“No!” I barked out. I wouldn’t budge on this. I gave him a steely glare.
Aldan sighed, replacing the glasses on the edge of his nose. “I see you will not be moved.”
“No, sir,” I said again, folding my arms across my chest.
“Though we agreed at the start to be honest and open with each other? Hmm?”
My face heated, considering it. He was right. I’d promised him that we could learn from each other. But maybe there was a compromise. “I don’t sing, Aldan. But I’ll play for you.”
He raised a crooked brow, snorting just a little. I rolled my eyes. I pulled my dulcimer from my shoulders, unsnapping the case. I sat down, setting the instrument on my lap. I closed my eyes.
Truthfully, it’d been so long since I’d played anything, I almost wondered if I’d even remember how. But as soon as my fingers found the strings it was easy— so easy— to let myself go and weave a melody from thin air.
Like magic, I thought, almost laughing. Of course it was magic.
Aldan’s eyes were closed. He looked practically dazed by the time I finished strumming the song. I carefully returned my dulcimer to its case and slid the strap over my shoulder, pushing myself up to stand.
“Well, now,” he said, sounding choked up. “That was… that was something, anyway.” He waved a hand dismissively at me. I sighed, making my way back to the black hole behind his keeper-den.
When I was almost outside, he cried, “Wait! Girl, wait!” I turned back to him, raising a brow. He sighed, “Thank you for that.”
I nodded, closing my eyes, and stepped into the darkness.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Alteration
My phone buzzed during class the next day. I’d received a new text from Score.
Meet me at our beach tonight?
I smiled. It’d been a while since we’d gotten together. I turned to Glenn, whispering as quietly as I could to avoid disturbing the class, “Hey, Will wants to go out tonight. Is it okay?”
Glenn frowned. He stared at the book in front of him. “It’s your choice. Where will you be?”
I still didn’t like how much he hated my relationship with Score, but I couldn’t blame him. In his eyes, I was stringing along some poor human boy. I sighed. “Longbay Park, by the beach.”
“When?”
I shrugged, tapping the question into the phone. It hummed again. Mrs Flowers’ eyes fell on me, a sharp disapproving frown on her face. I smiled apologetically, checking the message.
6
“Six, if it’s okay,” I said.
Glenn shrugged, rolling his eyes, “Whatever. It’s your life.”
I grinned, feeling happy, and tapped in my response.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That evening Score and I stood at our beach. I settled into the stone chair, watching him pace. It was already dark out, but dusky. Score looked more agitated than I’d ever seen him. He was thoughtful today. After he hummed the masking spell, he stared at the ocean for a few moments silently. He had his hands in his pockets, and he kicked at the sand occasionally.
The wind picked up, and I tightened my jacket around my body. There were still more temperate days than dreary, but it was beginning to shift to the wind and fog and rain of winter. I dug my toes into the cold sand, staring at Score’s back for a few moments.
My stomach churned, butterflies reappearing as I watched him. It was still hard for me to pinpoint how I felt about him. If it’d been before I turned— when I was sure he wouldn’t have even noticed me— I’d have been certain I was feeling a harmless crush, teenage fixation. I wasn’t sure it was that simple now.
He was beautiful. His dark hair, which was normally so perfect, blew in his eyes. His back was broad, and even through his sweater I could see his muscles were defined. But it was his eyes, the eyes that were staring off with so much depth, that I loved most about him. I loved how they reflected his feelings, and how often they mirrored my own expression.
Score finally turned around. His hands were in tight fists. He pressed me, “How many attacks, Lyra? How many times have you been assaulted?”
My face prickled, though I wasn’t exactly blushing. I wanted to lie to him, to tell him there’d only been a couple, but I felt certain he’d know I wasn’t being honest. I wondered how well he could read the emotions in my eyes. I was getting better at reading him, just from the few interactions we’d had together. Score was always ahead of me when it came to siren business.
I frowned and chewed my lip, not answering.
“Is it more than three?” he asked evenly.
I looked away from him, to the ocean that was enveloped in dusk. A layer of cloud cover hovered somewhere on the far horizon. It would almost certainly rain tonight, unless a favorable wind blew the offending clouds north or south of the peninsula.
“More than five?”
I smiled, bracing myself for the conversation. I turned to him. “Four. There’s been four attacks against me, Score.”
He paced the ground again, shaking his head, his mouth tugged down sharply. Score’s eyes were emblazoned with red that bled into pink that bled into orange at the outermost edge— it would’ve been lovely, but the expression he wore was so fiercely discontented it ruined the beauty. Three colors, three emotions battling within him.
Finally he stopped, running a hand through his hair. He settled on the stone slab next to me, staring out at the tide. He took a few deep breaths, keeping his gaze fixed on the water. “I don’t know what to do, Lyra.”
I reached over and gave his hand an empathetic squeeze. “You shouldn’t be worried,” I said, trying to play it off lightly. “I’m well protected.” If he could tell when I was truthful, then I knew he’d see the honesty in that statement. Glenn was both skilled and extremely capable at his job. Half the time, I felt he was too thorough, sacrificing comfort and privacy for security.
Score leaned forward, bringing his head against his fist. He squeezed his eyes shut, looking conflicted. “You won’t even let me teach you to defend yourself,” he said in a whisper.
I sighed, leaning back on the stone, my toes curling in the soft sand. I shrugged, replying carefully, “I can’t rely on privacy spells to keep me alive forever, Score. It just seems better—”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You don’t seem to get it, Lyra. What I do here, to keep us secret and hidden, is such a small, insignificant—” He stopped talking, taking a few deep breaths, collecting himself. He turned to me, gesturing around us. “Do you ever wonder why there are no paths cut to this beach
? I mean, it’s pretty small, but it’s damn near perfect for what it is.” He stood up, pacing again. The tide soaked his shoes, but he didn’t seem to care.
I raised a brow, not sure where he was going with it. “Well, yeah. But it’s pretty well protected by the trees, and—”
“And it wasn’t here three weeks ago!” he cried. “I made it for you— for us!”
My stomach clenched as I surveyed the area again. “You— but how—”
He shook his head, folding his arms in front of himself. “We needed a place to speak privately. Nothing fit the bill, so I made one using siren magic, using my voice…” He looked into my eyes evenly with bright blue irises, a color I’d begun to associate with honesty and conviction. “It’s the same magic that saved your life on Saturday.”
I felt a start at that. “You hummed, at the restaurant—”
Score nodded, relieved that I’d put two and two together. “Yes, Lyra! And then your throat relaxed and you coughed up that wretched… thing!”
My hands formed fists of their own accord. I was suddenly terrified— terrified because the scope of our magic was bigger than I could’ve possibly guessed. The last thing I wanted was to use it. But he was right, absolutely right. I needed to learn to defend myself against the next blood wraith or centaur or hallucination.
Score had stopped pacing. He crouched near me, snatching my hands from my sides. “So you see what I mean, Lyra,” he said. “I don’t know what to do!”
My muscles were taut. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to say it, forcing myself to accept it. “Then teach me, Score. Teach me… to use siren magic.”
He wrapped his arms around me, grasping me tightly. “Thank you. Thank you, for this, at least.” Score’s whole body seemed to relax. His eyes instantly turned light blue, pink, and sea green. He settled beside me.
The wind picked up, and I shivered. He wrapped an arm around me, humming softly to himself. The harshness of the air stopped. There was a light warmth around us now. Magic. Siren magic.
I shivered again, this time from the enormity of it all instead of the cold. I leaned against him, pulling in my limbs, trying to become smaller.
I closed my eyes, wondering if Score had been right all along. Maybe it would’ve been better for us to run away together. Nothing had attacked him since he’d turned, and that was so much longer ago than my own transformation.
I was grateful that I’d kept my word to him, kept him secret.
He squeezed my shoulder. His voice was more gentle this time, “Have you been having better luck controlling your voice? Practicing at school?”
My lips tugged into a smile, in spite of how terrified I felt about our magic.
“Yes,” I said. “Things have been a lot smoother, a lot better since you showed me how to do it.” School had been much more bearable. After a few interactions with classmates and teachers, I finally had a handle on keeping my inflections in check. He’d been right— when I actually relaxed and did it, I could hear such a huge difference I wasn’t having trouble with it anymore.
“Good,” he said, smiling. “It’s not as bad as you imagined, then?”
I laughed.
“No,” I admitted. “It ended up being easy after all. Thank you.”
He stood up. “Are you ready to learn the rest of it? Even if it means… sort of singing?”
The blood drained from my face, pooling into my stomach. “It’s one thing to speak with people, but…”
“No people. Just us. Alone,” he added. “And it’s just humming. Three notes is all it takes. Same way I’ve been masking us.”
The wind picked up again, rocking the trees in the distance, yet the air was still around us. Goosebumps raised on my arms. The chilled air of the night allowed a fog to roll off the ocean, but it skirted past the bubble around Score and me.
“Trust me,” he said, his lips forming a quirky smile.
Warmth bubbled up in my chest. So far, trusting Score had paid off for me, in all the right ways. I anxiously gripped my jeans, finally meeting his eyes with my own. “What do I have to do?”
He held out a hand to me. “Mostly, you just have to wish for something.”
My heart was pounding in my ears as I took his hand in mine. I didn’t even know what I wanted. How could I focus enough to use this ability?
He pulled me close, turning me so I was facing away from him, towards the ocean.
“You make a wish,” he repeated.
His lips were near my ear, and he hummed softly. I could smell a sweet cinnamony fragrance on his breath as he exhaled. The space around us suddenly lit up with sparks that fell to the ground like twinkling shooting stars. We were standing in a rain of candlelight, but it didn’t hurt or burn. I reached out with an open palm. A couple sparks landed on my skin, shining briefly and disappearing, flickering out of existence. It was real magic, a fairytale come to life. I wondered for a moment if Score was the handsome prince, or the evil wizard.
I turned my head, looking up to his eyes. They were golden, pink, and a tiny bit dark violet. I quaked as he met my gaze. I wished I could fully decipher his emotions.
I felt safe with Score. My instincts urged me to trust him… but why?
I could kiss him, I thought. I bit my lip, turning back. I was too afraid to pursue my train of thought with action.
He pulled away from me, and sighed. “Okay, it’s your turn.”
I turned myself towards him. He stood about three feet from me now. It may as well have been miles.
“How do I do it?” A knot formed in my stomach.
He stepped forward hesitantly, still leaving a good distance between us. “Just think of what you want: light, or something in your hands, or… practically anything.”
“Anything?” I asked, feeling my voice crack just a little.
“Almost anything,” he amended, “our magic is based on alteration, so there are a few limits. We can’t use it to travel, or turn back time, or conjure an object. We can change things, though, and shape them— even if the alteration seems impossible. Change the air around us to a sea of sparks,” he said, gesturing. “Alter the sparks so they don’t burn. Change a hillside into a beach, carve it out, smooth the stones. Alter the area to prevent sound from traveling beyond its borders; alter perceptions so nothing appears amiss. We have the power to change the world around us.”
What did I want right now? What could I wish for?
I looked again at Score and felt a little aching pull to him in my stomach. In this moment, my most overwhelming want terrified me.
I looked towards the tide. A flicker in the water caught my eye. Somewhere on the public beach was a bonfire. It was a start.
I hummed softly, focusing on creating a fire between the stone slabs we used as chairs, igniting the air with a blaze. I was surprised by the lack of effort it took. My notes were quiet, the focus half-hearted, but still a tongue of flame leapt between the slabs and crackled to life.
Score smiled, “Great job. See? Easy.” He settled onto one of the boulders, warming his hands in front of the fire.
I sat across from him, staring at the merry flames as they jumped around. There was no wood, no fuel of any kind, yet it remained bright and strong. The heat it generated was substantial. I hummed again. The color of the fire changed to a pale purple.
“Now you’re just showing off,” Score teased, laughing.
I smiled at him. I felt a little bit better about staying safe, about being able to deter any of my pursuers. As long as I could at least hum and think quickly, I’d be fine. “Thank you,” I said gratefully.
“Of course.”
The fire was strange and didn’t smell like anything. I scooted closer to it. “It seems like there’d be a lot of restrictions,” I said slowly, thoughtfully.
“Actually, in the scheme of things it’s pretty open-ended,” Score said. “I mean, yeah, we may not be able to time travel, but we can turn lead into gold without a nuclear reactor. I still haven’t t
ested it to the fullest capacity.”
I stared at the magical blaze, asking, “Score, did your letter mention exactly who was so hostile towards us?”
He exhaled slowly. “No, it just said there were many magical races that were dangerous, that’s all.”
I leaned forward, my hand cupping my head lightly, and considered it. I wished I knew who was out to get me, aside from the centaurs. Maybe no one. Maybe that was my answer.
I glanced at Score. He was looking at me with a strange expression on his face, his eyes a rosy pink. His face flushed, and he stared down at the fire. He hummed hastily, turning it green.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Time was up.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Councilors
In the late evening I lay on the bed, flipping through the book about the councilors. It was fascinating, if only to learn more about the other magical races.
The Japanese couple who sat so closely together were dragon twins, for one thing. Charcoal drawings of the pair spanned two images. The first was a simple portrait of their amalgam forms— the girl seated with her brother standing above her, her right hand clasped in his. The second was technically still a portrait, but in dragon form they looked completely foreign. Serpentine bodies, intertwined. The sister was shaded lighter than the brother. Her dragon body was slender, with features that were cruel but beautiful. He was power given physical form. The expression on the image was fierce— his mouth open, a jet of fire streaming from it.
I didn’t bother reading the details. I flipped past the blocks of text, looking only at the pictures and captions. Maybe I really was like a child.
Glenn leaned over me as I turned the page to Lady Amaranthe, the Elf Queen.
“She’s so pretty,” I murmured.
“My Lady is known as a great beauty throughout the Realm and beyond.”
I sat up, cross-legged. “What’s she like?” I asked, curious. I’d only have opportunity to gather a personal perspective on two of the councilors: the Lady of Flowers and King Dorian. However, I doubted Marin would answer any questions.
Prelude (The Rhapsody Quartet) Page 26
