Salt & the Sovereign: The Siren's Curse 2 (The Elemental Origins Series Book 8)

by A. L. Knorr

  Nike made an angry harrumphing noise in the back of her throat. “We can’t just do nothing! Something is going wrong.”

  Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, I took a few deep breaths. Sovereignty meant I had to put aside my personal problems for the greater good of my people. “I’ll go back to the Hall of Anamna,” I said, lifting my hands away from my eyes. “Maybe something like this has happened before. If there is something in the past that might help us, then there’s a chance I’ll be led to it.”

  Nike closed her mouth and gave me a curt nod. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t need to thank me, Nike.” I said, standing and stepping out of the pool. “I should have done it before, I’ve been distracted lately.”

  “Sybellen?” A voice from one of the cave’s smaller entrances interrupted us, and we looked over to see a Foniádes approaching on silent feet. “We’ve detained an Atlantean.”

  Alarm straightened my spine. “I thought I was clear that we were not to—”

  “He passed your designated perimeter, Sovereign,” she added hastily, “otherwise we would not have done so.”

  Jozef. My heart writhed nauseatingly in my chest like a fish impaled on the end of a spear.

  “We tried to escort him peacefully to the perimeter, but he’s insistent on seeing you. He won’t go back without a fight.” The Foniádes paused then, her lips parted in amusement. “He’s a lot stronger than other Atlanteans we’ve had to deal with. Not to mention better looking.”

  “Bring him to me.”

  Nike’s eyes opened wide with shock, but the Foniádes didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Sovereign.” She turned and hastily left the cave.

  “Are you certain that is wise?” Nike whispered. In case there were ears within hearing distance.

  “It’s Jozef,” I replied. “We love each other. He’s as welcome here as any siren would be.”

  Nike clamped her mouth shut and did not give away her thoughts on this. Instead, she said, “May I be here when he comes? I would very much like to meet this mysterious Atlantean of yours.”

  I hesitated, then kicked myself when I realized why I was hesitating, and that I’d realized it too late to add a condition to the Foniádes escorting Jozef here. I made a frustrated noise in the back of my throat as I picked up the simple robe I had left draped over the stone. I shrugged into it and belted it a little too violently.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I should have told the Foniádes that I would meet him somewhere else.”

  “Why?” Nike cocked her head quizzically for a moment, but then understanding dawned on her features. “Oh, you don’t want him to know you’re the Sovereign.”

  I gave her a look that said she was right.

  “I won’t give it away,” she said, “but you’ve said he’s very intelligent. I’m sure he knows by this point. Having the Foniádes report his presence to you isn’t something any soldiers of any realm, past or present, would do for an average citizen.”

  “I know.” She was right. It was too late, but at least I could minimize the impact. “I’ll go out and meet him...”

  “Too late for that.” Nike’s gaze went to one of the higher, larger entrances to the cave of freshwater pools, and I whirled to see Jozef striding between four Foniádes.

  His expression was completely neutral, but the moment I saw him, I could sense his apprehension and his eagerness. His eyes brightened when he saw me, but he didn’t say anything, and he wouldn’t while locked between four intimidating sirens, three of whom were considerably larger than he was.

  I dismissed the Foniádes, thanking them for escorting him. Jozef stood before me, his hazel eyes locked on mine, until the Foniádes had left the cave.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” His words might have been accusing, but his tone was soft and genuine. And hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” I replied.

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “Of course I do.” I was moving my arm to reach for him when Nike made a coughing sound. I’d forgotten she was still there.

  Stepping back a little, I introduced the two of them. “Jozef, this is Nike.”

  Unwillingly, he tore his eyes from me to settle on Nike. It took a moment for him to register her unusual features, then his gaze locked on her with more interest and curiosity. He took in her blue hair, light gray eyes, and dark skin. He didn’t say anything about her unusual features, and instead he reached for her hand.

  Nike glanced at me over his head, startled, as he bowed to kiss the back of her hand.

  “How wonderful to meet you, Nike,” Jozef said, standing upright. “It’s marvelous to finally meet a friend of Bel’s.”

  Her lips curved in a smile that Jozef would have taken as a warm greeting, but I knew she was smiling at his use of my human name. No siren would ever call me by that name again unless I lost Sovereignty.

  “It’s marvelous to meet you too,” Nike said, enunciating the word ‘marvelous,’ as it was not one from her normal vocabulary. “You’re the Atlantean oceanographer I have been so wanting to meet.”

  It was Jozef’s turn to glance at me with surprise. “It appears she’s told you about me, but has not told me about you. How interesting.”

  “It’s clear the two of you have much to talk about. I’ll leave you.” She caught my eye and held it. “Do not forget what you promised to do.”

  “I won’t forget.”

  Waiting until Nike had left the room to speak, Jozef reached for me. I relaxed into his hug.

  “I’m sorry,” he said into my wet hair. “I am terribly embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be,” I replied, pulling back and holding his face between my hands. My heart warmed, then melted like a jellyfish on a hot rock at the sincerity and concern in his voice.

  “I am nothing like my father,” he went on, stating the obvious. “I’m at a loss to explain his hostility, though I’m resolved to get to the bottom of it.”

  His brow pinched with anger, and it was a strange expression on his face. He’d only ever been happy and relaxed when we were together.

  “I can help you get to the bottom of it,” I said, then smiled at the idiom. “Funny how this saying suggests that we’ll find the answers we seek at the ‘bottom.’ The bottom of what?”

  He took my hands in his and squeezed them. “In this case––the ocean.” His gaze clung to mine. “You do have answers, don’t you, Bel? I’ve always felt that, from the moment I met you. Not only did I believe you had answers about the ocean, but I believe you’re the answer for me personally.”

  My breath caught in my throat at these words.

  “I was terrified when I returned to the library and you were missing. Terrified that you’d run away in anger or offense, terrified that I’d never see you again. And I realized in one awful moment that I couldn’t allow that to happen. I need you in my life, Bel.”

  “But, your father––”

  “Let me worry about my father. I did come here to apologize to you about his behavior, but I also came to ask you to attend a party with me.”

  “What?” This startled me more than any admission preceding it.

  “I want to introduce you to my family and friends, as my partner,” he added, touching my cheek, “if you’ll allow it. If you’ll agree. If you’ll take me.”

  My shoulders dropped at these words––both at the joy I felt upon hearing them, but also under the weight of everything that already was and the complication I imagined would result from our union.

  “I understand why you might hesitate,” he said, looking around the cave, “even more so now that I’ve been in your home. This place is incredible beyond belief, and I’m astounded at how the world does not know it exists. But that is not our present concern. Please, just say you’ll come to the party with me, just say that much. The rest we have time to figure out, and I know things will work out. I just know it.”

  “That is not a scientist talking,” I said with a smile.

&nbs
p; “No, it’s a man in love.”

  An Atlantean in love, my mind clarified. And I was a siren in love. For the first time, I was in love while not under the influence of the Salt, and that was worth something.

  That was worth everything.

  A week before the event, Gabriela met me in Drakief Manor’s grand foyer. The petite, pink-cheeked woman was practically overflowing with excitement at the task Jozef had assigned her—make me look like a lady.

  “Not just any lady,” she said in her strongly accented English as I followed her up several broad staircases to the top floor of the house. She pushed through a set of white double doors and into a large bedroom. “The grandest, most beautiful lady at the party.”

  The room was furnished all in white. There was a white wooden four-poster bed, a white vanity with a huge oval mirror, four large white wardrobes, a white trunk at the foot of the bed, and even the bedspread and carpet were white, though the pillowcases had tiny red roses embroidered at the hems.

  “I can see why you picked this room for such a task.” I moved into the room, gawking at the expansive space of floor and noticing two more wide double doors leading to a washroom. “It is furnished for a lady.”

  “Yes, this room was furnished with our lady guests in mind,” Gabriela said as she disappeared into the washroom. The sound of squeaky wheels echoed from within, and she reappeared pushing a rolling metal rack of clothes.

  “Do you need help?” I asked.

  “There’s another one of these, if you’d like to fetch it,” Gabriela said, wheezing a little as the wheels caught on the carpet and resisted.

  Entering the washroom found me in a room full of mirrors. I grabbed the clothes rack Gabriela requested and pulled it out into the room. Each rack had been hung with gowns, all lined up in a rainbow of colors. I realized with a jolt that they’d been assembled for me––I could be rather slow sometimes when it came to human habits.

  “Are all these for me?”

  “Who else? The Queen of Sheba?” Gabriela laughed.

  “Where did all these dresses come from?”

  She settled one rack against the wall nearest the door, and the other one diagonal to it, so that they bracketed a full-length mirror framed in––what else?––white wood. She began to rifle through the dresses, touching and fussing, feeling and smelling.

  “Some of them I found in Gibraltar,” she said, “and some of them I had sent from Lisbon or Barcelona.” She poked her head out from between two dresses, a fuchsia taffeta concoction and a sunflower yellow silk one which appeared to have swallowed her alive. “On loan only, you understand.”

  “Of course.”

  “Jozef has directed that you can keep the dress you choose for the party, though.” She disappeared between two more gowns, her voice muffled. She reappeared carrying a white satin concoction with glitter along the hem, holding it up and assessing it. “Too much bride,” she mumbled, and put it back.

  She turned to me for a moment, inspecting my face.

  “Such a pale beauty, and those eyes,” she murmured. “And all that hair, that will be a task.”

  She arrowed for the other rack, closing in on the blues and greens. Retrieving a bright teal gown with a skirt that looked like an upside-down cupcake, she held it up, looked at me, then back at the dress. She frowned. “Too fussy.”

  Drawn to a simple, dark indigo dress, I pulled it off the rack. It slipped through my fingers, soft and silky.

  “This one seems comfortable,” I said, smiling hopefully at Gabriela.

  She frowned initially, then approached and touched the fabric.

  “Understated. A beautiful woman like you could wear whatever you wanted. You’re tall, slender, striking. There is nothing on this dress to set you apart in a crowd.” Her brown eyes jumped to my hair, my face, trailed down my neck. “Then again, you would stand apart in a crowd even in a flour sack.”

  I laughed at the joke before realizing that she’d said it in all seriousness.

  She tilted her chin down and peered at me through her eyebrows, as though to emphasis that this was a serious decision, probably one that would affect the rest of my life. “You like this one?”

  “I like it.”

  “Try it on then, no harm in that.” She handed it to me and shooed me toward the washroom.

  Shedding my clothes, I slid down the side zipper and stepped into the many-layered dress. I shimmied it up over my hips and tried to pull the shoulders up until I realized it was cut to sit straight across and off the shoulder.

  “Well, now, this is a surprise,” Gabriela said as she bustled into the room. She zipped up the dress for me and stood back, her expression admiring. “You have excellent instincts.”

  Layers of indigo silk clung to my shape like a soft hug. The color deepened the blue of my eyes and made my black hair look like someone had put in subtle, dark blue highlights.

  “It’s perfect,” Gabriela said smartly. “Do you agree?”

  I nodded and my reflection nodded back, my gaze skimming my appearance from head to toe.

  “Now we have to figure out what to do about that hair,” Gabriela muttered as she pulled the white stool out from under the vanity and set it behind me. “Sit please.”

  Taking a seat on the stool, I allowed Gabriela to lift my hair up, twist it this way and that, pile it up on the top of my head or bunch it into a ball at the nape of my neck. Her forehead began to gleam and her cheeks were tinged with pink by the time she let it fall and stepped back, almost puffing.

  “There is nothing for it. I will have to cut it. It’s too much. You will have a headache before you even sit down to dinner.”

  “We could leave it down,” I suggested, opting for the easiest route.

  “And cover your elegant neck and collarbones? Not a chance. This dress was made for an updo, trust me.”

  I trusted her. What did I know about how humans dressed in this decade, let alone for a party? The last time I’d lived on land, the dresses had been heavy, scratchy, and trailed on the ground, soaking up mud and getting caught underfoot. The corsets had been a nightmare. By comparison, this gown was as comfortable as underwear.

  “And jewelry,” Gabriela muttered, eyeballing my small and simple aquamarine gem.

  “I’m happy with this,” I said quickly, putting a hand protectively over my necklace.

  “It is very plain,” she said. “We can do much better. Pearls perhaps? Or an indigo velvet choker with a cameo?”

  “I’d really rather prefer to wear my own; it means a lot to me.” My voice softened and deepened as I said this, edging over into musical.

  “All right.” Gabriela smiled. “Like I said, you could wear a sack and still be beautiful.”

  I smiled back in the mirror.

  “But this.” She grabbed my thick, heavy hair in a fist and picked it up, shaking it in the mirror like she was threatening to punch me with it. “This has to go.”

  I agreed, and after changing out of the dress, Gabriela cut enough hair off to sell to a wig-maker for a small fortune, leaving me feeling much lighter. She elected to twist my hair back into a bun at the nape of my neck, pull a few wisps free to frame my face, and attached a white orchid just under and behind my right ear. The effect was lovely.

  “What about makeup?” she asked as I was admiring the contrast of the white orchid against my black hair in the mirror.

  “What’s makeup?” I asked absently, mesmerized by the way the orchid petals reflected the light.

  Gabriela, who’d been bent over a spread of colorful items on the vanity that I hadn’t taken a good look at yet, straightened rather suddenly. Her voice was shot through with surprise. “What’s makeup?”

  I realized from the look of near horror on her face that I’d said something odd.

  Gabriela’s serious expression quirked into a smile. “Are you making a joke?”

  I shook my head, my eyes falling to the array of items on the vanity behind her, finally curious about th
em.

  “This is makeup.” Gabriela spread her hands over the colorful pots and trays, the brushes and colored pencils. “We use it to paint your face, highlight your features, make you look even more beautiful than you do now.”

  It was my turn to look horrified. Back in Poland, the only women who went around with paint on their faces were the ones who were shunned by other women in the community for tearing apart marriages.

  “Don’t look so shocked,” Gabriela chided. “I won’t make you look like a lady of the night, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

  It was like she could read my mind.

  “I was going to ask you if you wanted to do your own, but now I realize what a mistake that would be.” She put her hands on my shoulders and bent over to peer closely at my face. “Amazing skin. You don’t even appear to be human, sometimes. You know that?”

  Her statement jarred me, but she turned away and began picking up and putting down items from the vanity, making a selection.

  I sat still and allowed Gabriela to have her way with my face. She rubbed strange-smelling creams into my skin, dusted me with powder, plucked stray hairs from my brows, drew lines on my eyes, painted on my eyelids with colored powders, and used a fine brush to apply color to my lips.

  When she moved away from in front of the mirror, my breath caught in my throat. I barely recognized myself. My eyes looked absolutely enormous, and so deeply colored they appeared violet. My eyelashes were a dark thicket framing each eye, my normally pale cheeks were tinted with pink, and my lips reflected the light like they were wet.

  “Do you like it?” Gabriela fiddled with one of the eye pencils nervously. “I can tone down the eyeshadow if you want. Actually, blue eyeshadow is the color most ladies are wearing these days, but with your skin tone, I think it’ll just make you look bruised, so I went for brown and neutral hues. What do you think?”

  Staring at the woman in the mirror who couldn’t possibly be me, I didn’t know what to say. For a long time, I just looked at her, taking in features of her face I hadn’t even known were there before. Were my lips really so fat? Were my eyelashes really that thick? Were my cheekbones really so prominent?