by James Bow
All at once, the answer came to him.
“Rosemary!”
He scrambled up and looked around the room. He was alone. Bringing his breathing under control, he stepped to the door and opened it a crack. He heard voices outside.
“That woman!” Fiona stormed. “She’ll ruin everything! I could have ripped her to shreds where she stood!” “That was her,” said another voice, soft and lilting, but full of fear. “Darius and I saw her on the edge of our world. She is a songbreaker, Fionarra! She robbed me of my second with just one word from her lips.”
Fiona hissed. “A songbreaker! And to think I just left her out there. But she could not have got in here without help. Someone must have pulled her in, Loria.”
“Merius?” said Loria.
“Merius. He’d do anything to embarrass me before the council. He might even be stupid enough to bring a songbreaker amongst us. Wait till Eleanna hears this.
Yes, she will hear of this.”
“But what about the songbreaker?”
“Does anybody else know what she is?” asked Fiona.
“No, only Darius and I saw her powers.”
“Then do not talk about her to anyone else.”
“But —”
“We must not cause a panic. At least not until I can be sure that Merius is behind this. Then I will expose his treachery.”
“Is your rivalry with Merius all you can think of? We have a songbreaker in the village! We have to make her leave. If she is linked with Peter, then perhaps —”
“No.”
“But —”
“No! I will not send Peter away after all that I’ve risked. Peter belongs here!”
Peter shut the door quickly but quietly. He had to think, and to do that, he didn’t want to hear Fiona’s voice, even in the next room.
He leaned against the wall. So, Rosemary had followed him to this world, or had fallen into it. Judging from Fiona’s tone of voice, she wasn’t welcome here.
How could a people who had accepted him reject somebody like Rosemary?
The dominant voice in his head spoke out: Because she’s human and you’re not. You belong here and she does not.
And yet he knew Rosemary well enough to know that she would not leave without him.
The battle of wills between Rosemary and Fiona played out in his mind, with this “council” standing behind Fiona. He knew he had to make Rosemary leave, for her own sake. To do that, he had to talk to her. And he sensed the council and Fiona would frown upon that.
So, the council and Fiona had better not see him talk to Rosemary.
Stepping to the window, he pushed up the casement and hauled himself over the sill.
Behind him, the door clicked. Ariel sidled in and stared at the empty room. Her eyes fell upon the window.
***
Rosemary paced her bar-less cage. She followed the perimeter of a bubble-shaped cave, tapping her fingers on the rough stone wall. Small nooks and crannies glowed phosphor, providing the only light. There was no window. There was no door. There was no hole in the ceiling, and yet somehow they’d thrown her in here.
No, there had to be some sense to this. Every cell had an exit, or else they couldn’t have gotten her in here, so she circled the blob-shaped room, treading carefully on the uneven floor, feeling for any difference in the texture of the wall.
On her third circuit, she found something.
She stopped and ran her fingers along the rough stone. It felt as hard as granite, and then she passed a spot where the stone pushed back, but without any sense of touch, like an air mattress, but without the mattress.
Rosemary pushed harder. She saw her fingers whiten; her tips felt numb, but as she pressed, she saw the fingers begin to vanish into the stone. She ran her other along the wall and felt the same thing. The space between her two hands was wide enough for a door.
“A-ha!” she muttered. She flattened her hands on the smooth surface, and saw her fingers sink beneath the stone. “I knew it!” Just like these creatures to try to fool her into staying in her cell.
She pushed at the space. She put her shoulder in it. She put her back on it and scuffed her feet. Each time she bounced back like she was fighting elastic. In the end, she slumped to the floor, breathing heavily.
Then the wall opposite her shimmered, and a cave entrance materialized. Merius stepped through, bearing his trident. The opening vanished once he was in the centre of the room.
“Is any of this place real?” she asked.
“It’s all as real as we want it to be,” said Merius. He nodded over his shoulder the way he’d come. “Did they hurt you?”
“No.” Rosemary stood up. “And I admit I gave them plenty of reasons to.”
Merius smirked. “Good.”
“Really?”
“Only in its context,” said Merius. “I appreciate that you stand up for yourself, but you were still a fool to confront Fionarra when I wasn’t ready.”
Rosemary frowned at him. “I heard Peter’s voice when you smuggled me into your home. I thought that if I could talk to him —”
“You’d find yourself in a room with no doors?”
Rosemary glared. “I had to try. I almost reached him, too, until this woman burst in and touched his eyes.”
“Ah,” said Merius, nodding. “That was Fionarra. I thought she was using glamour to keep Peter under her thumb.”
“Glamour?”
“It is the singing of our minds made solid,” said Merius. “Applied by voice or touch, it allows us to control what people see, even ourselves. From this we create our tools, our nets, our homes ...”
“Doors that look like walls?” Rosemary asked. “Even other people?” A small army to hunt down large creatures like squid, she thought.
Merius nodded. “Glamour is at the foundation of our society.”
“And that’s what’s holding Peter? How do I fight it?”
“You don’t,” Merius rumbled. “You can break glamour for a few seconds, through some shock like cold water, a kiss, or a firebrand, but unless blocked by an exceptionally strong mind, glamour simply reasserts itself.”
Rosemary started to say something, but Merius cut her off. “Don’t raise your hopes high. Peter is a man, and the human male is notoriously susceptible to glamour. Moreover, there is a second glamour behind the first. Fionarra could not have called him to this world unless, deep down, Peter wanted to come. Even if you could break Peter’s external glamour, you would not have time to break through his internal glamour, his desire to find a family here, before the external glamour reasserted itself.”
“I have to try,” snapped Rosemary.
“Rosemary!”
“Peter!” She whirled around and found herself staring at a small, blob-shaped window on the wall over her shoulder. Peter stood on the other side, gripping the sill. She ran up to him.
“Keep out of sight,” said Peter, looking nervously over his shoulder. “Nobody can see me talking to you.”
She looked past him, into a gully cut between two rises of rock. “Peter, what —” She looked at his feet and started. “How the heck did you get up here?”
He frowned at her. “What? I’m just standing on a box.”
Rosemary craned her neck. He stood on an outcrop, his heels in midair, fifteen feet above uneven ground.
“Peter,” said Merius.
Peter gasped and stumbled back. Horrified, Rosemary grabbed him through the window and pulled him back to the sill. “It’s okay,” she said before he could run. “This is Merius. He’s a ....” She looked Merius up and down. “He’s an ally. You can talk in front of him.”
“Peter,” said Merius again. “Does Fionarra know you’re here?”
“No,” said Peter. “And she’d better not find out, so listen up, Rosemary: you’ve got to leave!”
She bristled. “Not without you!”
“I’ll make sure Fiona gets you back to Clarksbury, but I’m staying here.”
> “Peter!” She gripped his hand. “Listen to me! They’re lying to you! You’re not one of them; you’re not even green!”
Merius blinked. “Green?”
“Peter, please,” she continued. “You’ve got to come home with me!”
Peter glared at her. “Why? My parents are dead, my uncle’s never home! I have no friends; I’m treated like a stranger. These sirens, I may not be like them now, but the Homecoming Ceremony will take care of that. There’s nothing left for me in Clarksbury.”
Rosemary’s eyes glistened and she swallowed hard. “But … what about me?”
There was a long pause. Peter couldn’t look her in the eye. “Rosemary … j-just leave me and go … I’m … I’m back where I belong.” He pulled free from her grip and hopped off the outcrop, landing lightly on the ground.
“Peter, come back!” Rosemary reached through the window, and strained against its sides. “Peter!” She struggled as Merius plucked her free.
“Careful!” he gasped. “Peter is right: he mustn’t be seen near you.”
Rosemary slumped against the wall, choking back tears. “He wouldn’t listen to me,” she sobbed. “He’s too tied up in their lies!”
Merius patted her shoulder. “Actually, I was impressed by him.”
She looked up. “What do you mean?”
“If Peter were truly under Fionarra’s grip, would he have cared enough to sneak away and tell you to leave?”
She brightened. “You mean I have a chance?”
“I think Fionarra doesn’t have the hold over Peter that she thinks she has. Are you sure you two aren’t pair-bonded?”
Rosemary blushed. “Certain.” She drew herself up. “Let’s get out of here and figure out how to reach him.”
“I have a plan already,” said Merius. “You stay here.”
Rosemary frowned. “Stuck in this cell?”
“Here, Fionarra would think you were safely tucked away. It would lower her guard.”
“Of course, because I’d be under guard. At least release me into your custody, or something!”
Merius shook his head. “Officially, I am here to question you and determine if the council’s decision to return you to your world is the correct one. I will leave, and state that I agree with the council’s decision. With the council’s suspicions off me, I can plan how to confront Fionarra.”
“That’s not a plan at all!”
“I will not jeopardize my position on council. Right now, Fionarra faces uncomfortable questions over how you came to be here. If it comes out that I helped to bring you here, then it will be my position that is threatened!”
Rosemary spluttered. “Did you save my life just to make me your political pawn?”
“You misunderstand,” said Merius. “Fionarra violated protocol. For that, I shall make sure she faces the consequences.”
“You don’t care about me or Peter at all! I was right the first time: there is nothing good in this world!”
“Do not test my patience, Rosemary Watson!” And with a roar, Merius transformed into a huge, smoking dragon that towered over her. His wings touched the sides of the cell; his breath singed Rosemary’s cheeks.
She stumbled back. “Stop it!”
The dragon vanished, leaving Merius, arms raised, caught in mid jump. He scrambled back, fumbling like a man in a crowd who had suddenly found himself naked. “What did you do?”
“What did I do? What did you just do?”
“I changed myself to make you appreciate my authority,” said Merius. “But I couldn’t keep up the song. How do I look to you now? Describe me!”
“You look the same as when I first saw you,” Rosemary huffed. When he prodded her, she added, “You’re tall, you’ve got green skin, and you have fins on the back of your arms and legs. You’re just like everybody in this crazy place.”
Merius leaned back, horrified. The wall stopped his fall. “You saw me thus from the beginning? I did not look like one of your kind?”
“Not even close!”
“You can see through me,” Merius breathed. “You can break my song. The mark on your hand must be the mark of a songbreaker!”
“That’s what the other two sirens said,” said Rosemary. She drew herself up, “So, what does this have to do about anything?” She stepped forward menacingly. “Tell me now or I’ll break more of your songs! You know I can!”
“Yes, you can.” Fear faded from his eyes, replaced with resignation. “Indeed, you could disassemble the very bonds that hold this civilization together.”
Rosemary stopped. “W-what?” She started to back away.
Merius picked up his trident. “You cannot stay here, and the council must never find out that I brought you here or my life would be forfeit. You are too dangerous to let live.”
He lunged. Rosemary scrambled away just before his trident cracked the wall behind her.
She ran for the cell door, screaming for help, and stopped when she found only smooth wall. No help came. Instinct made her duck and the trident sailed over her head. She rolled up and tried to wrench the weapon from his grip, but Merius held on and threw her against the wall.
She fought back, kicking and punching. One of her kicks landed solidly between his legs, but he barely flinched. She clawed at his eyes, but her arms weren’t long enough.
He thrust her back against the wall and pressed the cold shaft of the trident to her throat. She could feel the granite bruising her shoulder blades.
“Merius!” she gasped. Tears ran down her cheeks. “Please! I just want to bring Peter home!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, stone-faced. He pressed down on the shaft, and Rosemary could only gurgle. Her feet kicked uselessly. Darkness crept into the edge of her vision.
Then the wall behind her gave way like the icy crust of a snowdrift. She was a split-second in darkness, and then falling through open air, landing heavily on the ground.
Through her whirling senses, the burning of her throat, and the screaming relief of her lungs, she barely registered the sound of shocked voices. She was at the bottom of a gap between two stone pillars, near where the gully opened out onto a clearing. A dozen people stared at her, their voices rising in fear.
“She came through the wall!”
“She came through the song!”
“Glamour can’t bind her!”
“She’s a songbreaker!”
Above her, Rosemary saw only a stone wall, with no hole that she could have fallen through. Merius glared at her through the window.
She staggered up, clutching her throat, but was too disoriented to run. People were shouldering through the crowd, homing in on her, bearing tridents.
“This way,” said a little girl’s voice. “Run this way!”
Rosemary could see nobody around her, but instinct made her follow the voice deeper into the gully.
The crowd charged.
Rosemary stumbled. Her vision swam. Her throat ached to breathe, much less swallow.
“You must hurry!” said the little girl’s voice. “They’re almost upon us!”
The gap between the stones narrowed, branched, and twisted. Rosemary missed a turn and careened into a wall, but the voice urged her on. The sounds of their pursuers faded.
Then Rosemary stumbled into a dead-end. The cliff stretched up, impossible to climb. She gasped in horror.
“It’s okay,” the voice breathed. “Rest. I’ll hide you.”
A shadow cloaked the entrance to the branch.
Rosemary collapsed against the base of the cliff.
The sound of running feet came closer, and halted at the junction.
“Where is she?”
“She can’t have disappeared.”
“That way leads out of the village. She has found her way back into the wilderness!”
“We have to organize a search party. Get Fionarra!”
The voices dispersed. Alone, Rosemary slumped over and fell unconscious.
There was a m
oment’s silence, then Ariel stepped out of her own shadow. Looking down all the branches of the junction, she made sure that they were alone. In the distance, the mob clamoured to be organized.
She turned back to Rosemary and put a hand on her forehead. “For your safety, sleep until the village is quiet.”
Rosemary shifted, and began to breathe more easily.
After checking that Rosemary was safely hidden, Ariel crept back the way she’d come, heading towards home.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NOTHING THAT FADES
Peter slipped through the village, following the shadows to Fiona’s home. He walked so carefully, wary of being seen, it took him a while to realize that the village was quiet. He stopped, listening, and then stepped out to the middle of an intersection of two alleyways. In every direction he looked, there was no one around to see him.
“What the ...”
He finally heard voices as he approached the central park. He ducked behind cover as nine villagers trooped past, hoisting tridents.
He waited until they turned a corner, and then slipped out. The village was silent again. He walked boldly through the back alleyways, keeping an ear open, but not keeping to the shadows, until he found his bedroom window. He hauled himself through.
The bedroom was as he’d left it. He nodded to himself, satisfied: no one knew he had snuck out.
Why should I have had to sneak out like that? he thought. Aren’t I welcome here? And why should I be so afraid for Rosemary if these people are as welcoming as I think them to be?
The fog curled in his mind, as though at the beginning of a clear, crisp wind.
So much didn’t make sense. I belong here, don’t I? What could still be eating at my heart?
He needed answers. And in a flash, he knew who could give them to him.
Peter stepped out into the hall, past the quiet rooms. He stopped short when he heard a knock on the front door. He ducked into the bathroom and held the door open a crack, listening.
Fiona breezed past, her beauty as bright as blood. The door swung open. “What is it?”
“The songbreaker has escaped,” said Loria. “She slipped through the wall of her cell. Merius was with her. We are organizing a search party.”
