Sometimes, when she really thought about it, when she felt around for it, when she wondered what had become of it, she found it. There it was. Her heart sat in her chest like a stone. Nothing could get in to hurt it, but nothing could get in to help it either.
She turned her attention back to the lighter. “I don’t want you to be like me.”
“I don’t think I can do this if I still need them, Ava.”
“Do what?”
He had to swallow. “Anything.”
Ava wanted to find something wise and meaningful to say, but as she looked over Cale’s shoulder, her words died on her tongue. Her breath caught in her mouth. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Cale sat up straighter when he saw his rider’s expression, her eyes wide, her mouth open.
“Ava?”
The siren stood, rocking back and forth in front of the closed door, its arms wrapped around itself. Its ghostly face watched the dragon and rider in silence, the black of its eyes leaving no room for white.
Cale whipped his head around and reached for the dragonblade that always sat in his pocket. He pounced on the creature, thrusting his blade into its chest and swinging it against the siren’s neck. It’s head rolled to the floor. The monster made no sound, no shriek, no hiss.
“Cale!” Onna called out from the living room.
Both Ava and Cale raced down the stairs. Cale took the life of another nightfolk that lingered in the corner of the kitchen, trying to hide between the fridge and the wall.
Ava watched as Onna spun her dragonblade in her hands so that the sword made a swooshing sound. The dragon lifted her arm and sent the sword flying. It landed with a slice into a nightfolk’s chest. As purple blood spurted from the wound, Onna ran at the creature. She kicked it to the ground, her foot landing on its stomach as she yanked her blade from its heart. She brought the sword down over its neck without hesitation.
Ava was agape as she watched Onna. Her technique was immaculate, from her stance to the slow, meaningful breaths she took as she moved her weapon. No wonder the dragons in the Cave respect her so much. Onna was a killer.
Ava looked around the room, her own dragon blade still in her hand. But she didn’t move. Something’s strange. Her heart was racing, just like it should have been. She expected the beasts to rush at her, to bear their fangs, to sing their songs over her. But the sirens stood in place, each of them. Cale and Onna hacked them down, but they did not fight back. They only swayed back and forth. Back and forth.
“Stop,” Ava called out. “Cale, Onna, stop.”
But the reds weren’t listening. They had been fighting sirens too long to react with anything but the instinct to end their lives. Ava hurried to Cale and grabbed onto his arm. She maneuvered herself so that she stood in between him and the siren he was about to kill.
“Ava, move,” Cale said gruffly, about to shove her out of the way.
Ava was breathless as she considered her own actions. Am I losing my mind? She was standing in front of a creature that could take her life, the life her dragon, of her foster mother. But Ava’s instinct was different than Cale’s. And it was that instinct–something she didn’t fully understand–that drove her to step between the blade and the creature.
“Cale, I need you to lower your weapon,” she said, slowly, as if talking to a child. She could see that Cale’s eyes weren’t his. She was looking into the face of a dragon. And he wanted the siren’s blood spilled.
“I need you to get Onna to stop as well,” she added.
The other red dragon was still going at the sirens. The more she killed, the more there seemed to be. Ava tried to look as intimidating as she could when she looked back at Cale. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin at him. “That’s an order.”
Cale’s eyes flashed. He lowered his blade hesitantly, his inane desire to defend humans fighting with his need to obey his rider. He turned away and intercepted Onna. She wasn’t as easy to halt. Cale had to wrench the blade from her. She screamed at him, though not with words. Cale looped his arm around Onna and lifted her quickly and easily over to where Ava stood in the kitchen.
Ava looked around once more. The nightfolk that crowded the room still swayed, their shadow eels twisting about their necks and ankles. It made Ava nervous to even consider speaking to them, but she had to follow through. She had to.
“What is it you want?” she asked loudly.
The sirens waited for a moment, then all at once, they opened their mouths. The sound was blood curdling, like a dozen nails scratching against a dozen chalkboards.
Ava covered her ears and yelled for them to stop. “One of you. Just one of you.”
A siren stepped forward. A male, with a strong nose and wide, black eyes. He moved so close to Ava that Cale had to reposition himself. He raised his sword.
Ava rested her hand on his arm. “Cale, does it feel like I’m in danger?” Ava tried to reason with him.
Cale ignored her, but she persisted. “They’re not here to hurt us. You know it. Look at them. They’re not even fighting back.”
Cale still kept his sword poised, so Ava continued anyway, turning her attention back to the ghostly being. “What do you want? Why would you come here?”
The creature opened its mouth, but nothing came out apart from that same chilling shriek.
Ava stepped forward once more, close enough to reach the monster. Her hand shook as she stretched it out toward the siren. Please don’t try to eat me. Please let me be right about this. Please.
Her eyes were drawn to the stone pendant that hung off of the siren neck. Slowly, carefully, she wrapped her fingers around the crest and pulled. The leather string snapped, but the crest seared her palm. She dropped it, gasping in shock.
The burn mark on her hand matched the scar on the siren’s chest. Right where the crest had rested on its breast bone was burnt white skin. She had to blink. Did it just sigh?
“Can you talk to me now?” Ava asked.
The siren opened its mouth, but it did not shriek. Nothing came out of its ashen lips. Only silence. The nightfolk locked eyes with Ava and spoke silence over her. She watched, looking into its eyes, trying to understand why they’d risked their lives to come to a dragon nest. Trying to understand why they didn’t fight back. Trying to understand.
She kept looking, kept staring until, suddenly, she could hear nothing at all. Frightened, she wanted to move, wanted to unplug her ears. She listened, but she couldn’t hear the hum of the fridge or the sound of Cale hissing beside her. Around her, pressing in on her, was a crushing, chaotic quiet.
From the shimmering void of the siren’s eyes came one crystal tear. It fell slowly, changing color as it left the siren’s cheek, becoming a dark purple. Then, without warning, the siren itself became nothing. It turned to ash, vanishing in wind that didn’t exist.
The remaining sirens did the same, leaving nothing behind but the necklaces. The necklaces and tears of their own.
Ava gasped as the sounds of the world came back to her. She hadn’t realized that Cale had been shaking her, trying to wake her up. Worry –no, fear– was etched onto his face.
“Ava. Ava, are you okay?”
Ava blinked at him. She shook her head. I’m not okay. And I don’t know why. She had trouble remembering where she was, why she was there. Cale brushed at her cheeks and Ava took his hand, examining it in confusion. His fingertips were wet.
“I’m crying?”
“Ava, you’ve been crying for ten minutes. You’re scaring me.”
Ava looked around. All the lights were on, the furniture mangled. All of the siren crests sat in a pile on the kitchen counter. Cale pressed his hands to her face so that he could see into her eyes.
“Tell me what happened,” he said softly. “Did they hurt you?”
Ava tried to focus on her body. Her legs, her torso, her arms, her head. She was uninjured. “I’m okay.”
“What happened? You made us stop fighting them. Then they all disappea
red, and you started crying. Why?”
“You didn’t see it? You didn’t hear it?”
Cale shook his head. He put his hands on Ava’s waist, lifted her effortlessly, and set her down on the counter. Then he fumbled in the fridge for a bottle of water. He opened the cap and handed it to her. She drank it, but it tasted strange in her mouth. She couldn’t even detect the moisture on her tongue.
“What’s wrong with her?” Onna asked loudly from the living room.
Cale scowled at her. “Check on Miriam so I can talk to Ava.”
Onna growled right back at him. She had no desire to coddle the woman who’d remained in hiding upstairs.
“Please,” Cale said.
Onna’s countenance didn’t soften, but she went away.
Once she was gone, Cale took Ava’s hand in his. He touched the sear mark in the center of her palm.
“It burned you?”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t hot. It was…cold.”
Cold? Cale chewed on his lip. Ava really didn’t seem injured, and he could tell that she was snapping out of whatever trance she’d been in. Be patient with her, he told himself. He stood still, waiting while she processed her thoughts.
Finally, she met his eyes. And she looked like Ava again. “That was….” Weird? Scary? Ava couldn’t explain it, even to herself.
“How did you know they didn’t want to fight?”
“Because…those sirens must have been watching us for a while, and neither of us noticed, and usually, you know when we’re in trouble. Plus, they weren’t singing or flashing their fangs at us. They just stood there.”
Cale nodded. He understood even more why reds needed riders. All he could see was what needed killing. If Ava hadn’t intervened, he would have slayed every one of them. “Did they speak to you?”
Ava inhaled sharply. Just the thought of what the siren had shared with her made the tears start again. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to force them away. But Cale put her hands in her lap and wiped at her tears with his thumbs.
“Tell me.”
Ava shrugged, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. She hated crying. It made her feel vulnerable. Like a child. “It was really quiet. Like I could hear what they hear all the time. Just silence.”
She was shaking again, but Cale didn’t comment on it and Ava was grateful. She already felt weak enough. Cale knew not to draw attention to it.
“Keep going,” he said.
She squirmed as she recalled the phenomenon. “It –the nightfolk–was just so sad. It was the most painful thing I’ve ever seen. Like its heart was always breaking all the time. There was so much…hurt. And nothing else.”
Cale frowned. He could feel his own body react to her sadness. He wanted to push it away, but he couldn’t. How awful must she be feeling if I can’t even shake it off?
“Why here? Why us?” she asked.
Cale stood up straight, the truth dawning on him. “This wasn’t like the first night, when they attacked you. I think…I think this was different. These sirens wanted to speak with–with you.” Of course. The Deceiver. They had come to Miami looking for Ava.
“But why?”
“Maybe they knew you could understand them. Maybe they knew you’d listen.”
Ava could hear Santiago’s words come back to her. How much sadness is in me? “But what’s the point? What am I supposed to do with nay of that?”
“I have no idea.”
He wished Cameron was there. His brother would ask the right questions. He’d figure it all out. Cale looked around the kitchen, straining his brain, trying to summon even a hint of blue observation skills. What am I missing? What would Cam pick up on?
His eyes fell to the pile of crests that Onna had collected and placed on the counter while Ava was unresponsive. He lifted one in his hands. It wasn’t cold, didn’t burn him in the least. Ava reached out to take it, but she gasped, retreating as fast as she could.
“But it feels normal,” he said. Cool, ordinary stone.
Ava looked at him as though he had lost his mind. She held up her finger and showed the mark it left on her. “It burned the nightfolk, too. When I ripped it off, there was a scar on its chest just like these.” She poked at her palm and her finger. “Maybe it doesn’t hurt you because you’re a dragon.”
“Maybe.”
“The nightfolk looked relieved when I took it off him.”
Ava turned herself a bit so that she could flip the faucet on. She let the cool water run over the ice burns. “Why would they wear the crest if it causes them pain?”
Cale studied the crest, letting it spiral from the leather cord. Out of curiosity, he moved Ava’s hands out of the way and held it under the running water. Nothing.
But Ava hopped off of the counter and got a glass from the O’Hara’s cabinet. She filled it with water, then moved Cale’s arm so that the siren crest dipped into the cup. Almost instantly, the water froze, trapping the pendant in a block of ice.
“I can’t believe my mom and Cameron didn’t figure this out,” Cale said in awe. I can’t believe we did.
“It felt normal to them. They probably had no idea it was cold.”
“Ava, this doesn’t make any sense. It’s a dragon crest,” Cale said. “I mean, we thought they were fashioned after the ancient crests, but they actually are ancient crests. It must not be compatible with the sirens.”
Ava frowned. “But you don’t wear a crest.”
Cale lifted his shirt and pointed to the skin just above his hip. The tattoo was tiny. A circle with an “X” running through it. “Most red dragons just make it permanent so people don’t ask questions. I’ve had it since I was a baby. Onna, Myra, and Rory all wear the same crest.”
“But you used to wear crests like this? Like necklaces?”
“Sure. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, when humans knew about us. When rankings were bigger than the Olympics.” He tossed the crest into the garbage can, glass and all. “Things are different now. I’ve always had to hide who I am. The tattoo does the trick.”
“Have there always been sirens? As long as there have been dragons and humans?”
“I think so, but they probably never wore dragon crests. And they definitely didn’t have such powerful tears.”
Ava bit her lip. “There shouldn’t be so many creatures that are so sad.” She shook her head. “It just seems wrong.”
“I don’t think I can sympathize with sirens, Ava.” Cale said. “I’ve seen what they can do.”
Ava scoffed. “I’ve seen what people can do. That doesn’t mean you throw the whole species into the trash without trying to understand them.”
Cale smiled as he shook his head at her. “You are so much kinder than you think. Especially when your guard is down.” He tugged one of her curls. “I hope you keep those reasoning skills sharp. We’ll need them if we want an audience with the red council.”
Ava nodded and hopped off of the counter. Cale followed closely as she walked up the stairs. Despite her words, he held a small dragonblade in his hands, casually, as if she wouldn’t notice. She smiled as his eyes darted around the bedroom, checking for more unwanted intruders. He opened the closet door, sorting through the empty hangers for sirens.
Ava threw herself onto the bed, leaving Cale to his own undoing. She closed her eyes and prayed to God that she wouldn’t dream of the silence, of the tears.
Thirteen
Stocks
The airport bustled, travelers sending disapproving glances their way, but there might as well have been no one else around. Cameron tangled his fingers in Myra’s blonde hair, leaning into her. She returned the kiss, her eyes closed, her fists tight around his shirt.
Even Ava blushed as she looked away–anywhere but at the two of them. She scribbled out the rest of her customs form as deliberately as she could, glad for the distraction.
Onna pouted at Cale a few feet away, her arms crossed.
“When are you coming bac
k?” she asked.
“I told you I don’t know,” he said. “Don’t act like you’re going to miss me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I won’t.”
Then she glared across the terminal at Ava, who was still bent over her form, pen slowly moving. She squinted at Ava’s wild ringlets and the way her lashes fluttered against her skin as she looked down. She was effortlessly beautiful.
“I hate her, Cale. I hate her so much.”
Cale grinned and pulled Onna into a hug. “No, you don’t.”
He still couldn’t believe that Onna had gotten the money out of her mother without telling her what it was for. A thousand dollars was a lot to borrow, and Cale had no idea how he was going to pay them back, especially since he’d broken their table, among other key pieces of furniture.
Onna wrapped her arms around Cale’s waist and pressed her nose into his t-shirt. He was familiar, warm. “Do you love me yet?” she asked against his chest.
He leaned his chin against the top of her head. “Always, kid.”
She sighed, straightening up. His answer was familiar, too. Onna left Cale’s embrace because she had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate her kissing him again. Instead, she strolled over to Ava and loomed over her.
“Yeah?” Ava asked when she noticed the red staring at her.
“Nothing.” Onna flipped her hair. It was so long it almost fluffed Ava in the face. “Just…you better take care of him.”
“He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself,” Ava snapped.
Then she sighed. She wished that she could rewind time and be kinder to Onna. It was so hard for her to remember she wasn’t all bad. Cale is wrong. If there’s any kindness in me, it’s buried too deep to be excavated.
“Thanks for keeping Miriam,” Ava offered. Ava had no reservations about leaving her foster mother with the O’Hara’s, especially after she’d seen Onna in action.
Onna shrugged. “All she does is clean and cook and work on those puzzles. Less chores for me.”
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