Daughter of the Siren Queen

by Tricia Levenseller

  Would it have stopped you from saving her if you’d known she’d leave you?

  No.

  Strangely, I’m comforted by the realization, though it doesn’t make me any less angry with her.

  The island looks … normal as we approach. Somehow, I expected an island tied to the sirens to be more mystical in appearance, though I’m not entirely sure what that would entail.

  The boats run aground and we disembark, pulling the rowboats far onto the sand so the waves can’t pull them back out to sea. We take in our surroundings as we step from sandy beach to needle-covered forest floor.

  A squirrel notices our approach and scurries up the nearest trunk. The wind grabs at the leaves in the trees, shaking them together. Birds pull twigs from the ground to make their nests, and something rustles through the thick grass. Probably a rodent of some sort.

  “Break into your pairs,” I order.

  Mandsy hooks her arm through Enwen’s. Athella sidles herself up next to Wallov. Deros gets claimed by Lotiya, and Deshel hovers near Riden. I give her a look that sends her back a step, and grab Riden’s hand.

  Riden looks at our joined hands, searches my face, looks back down at our hands.

  In the rush to avoid Riden touching another woman, I’d grabbed him without thought as to how he would react.

  My fingers release their hold before he can pull away, which I’m sure he would have done. I won’t look at him after that, but I’ve got his back should something come rushing out of the shrubbery.

  Kearan, who I paired with Sorinda, holds his arm out to her. Sorinda stares at him, unmoving. He doesn’t take his arm back; he waits for her to do something. I’ve never seen Sorinda fail to intimidate a man with a look, but the two are trapped in a battle of wills, with Kearan’s arm, which is now more muscled than fatty, extended between the two. All of those push-ups have been doing him good.

  “Sorinda,” I say, to remind her of her orders while on the island.

  She pushes his arm back to his side, but stays near him and keeps her eyes searching the area around them both.

  “He’s not all that bad, you know,” Mandsy says, nudging her shoulder into Sorinda. “Now that he’s sobered up, he has interesting things to say.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Sorinda says.

  “How would you know? You never stay near him unless following orders.”

  “And what I hear while following orders is telling enough. He’s a bumbling buffoon.”

  “That’s rather rude.”

  “He can’t hear me.”

  Kearan looks between Sorinda and Mandsy. “Are you talking about me?” he says much too loudly.

  Sorinda rolls her eyes.

  The rain and light dampen now that they must filter through the trees to reach us. Many trails wind through the undergrowth; whether they were made by animals or something else, it’s impossible to tell. Either way, we follow one that takes us away from the sea. I monitor a compass in my hand, so we can find our way back to the ship. Radita stays close by my side, examining trees as we pass, but they’re still far too small.

  The farther we go, the more entrapped I feel. On the sea, I can see for miles in any direction. But here, on land in a thick forest, anything could be hiding. A threat could be three feet away, and I would be none the wiser. Why would anyone choose to live in a place like this?

  When I judge us a safe distance from the ocean, I motion for the men to pull out their plugs. Enwen takes more goading than the others.

  I still won’t look at Riden.

  Instead I search between the coniferous trees, peering through their branches for hidden dangers.

  A figure sidles up next to me.

  The one I’m determined not to lock eyes with.

  “What was that?” Riden asks.

  “What was what?”

  “You know what. You grabbed my hand.”

  “Thought I saw something between the trees. I was protecting you.” The lie sounds pathetic even to my own ears.

  “I see” is all he says.

  The longer we travel without seeing any threats, the more certain I am that something foul is just waiting for us around the next hill. The animal life all but vanishes, as if they’re avoiding the center of the island.

  After maybe an hour, we come to a clearing. A freshwater spring bubbles up from the ground, giving way to a small stream headed for the sea. A cave opening, likely carved out long ago by the underwater source, rests at the bottom of a rocky rise.

  Radita strides over to a tree on the edge of the clearing, opposite the cave. She examines it carefully. “No signs of decay,” she mumbles to herself. Then, “This tall pine is perfect.”

  “All right,” I say. “Ropes out. Get them strung up around the neighboring trees. Riden, Kearan, the saw.”

  Haeli and Reona, my best riggers, climb two neighboring trees and carefully place the ropes. They’ll help support the tree as it falls, giving it a more controlled descent. It will also muffle the sound of it smashing to the ground. We don’t need to announce our presence. Lotiya and Deshel are on watch while the rest of us get to work.

  Riden and Kearan mark the tree so it will fall at the angle we want. Then the two of them handle the saw. The rest of us wrap ourselves in the ends of the ropes, so we can use our weight to catch the trunk.

  The grating sound of metal on wood starts. A bird twitches its head to the side to better view us with one beady eye. After a few seconds, it takes off in flight.

  I tell myself it’s fleeing away from all the racket we’re making and not something coming toward us.

  I’ve posted watches. There’s nothing more I can do except help.

  My eyes dart from the tree line—

  And land on Riden’s arms, flexing as they push the saw through the tree.

  Damn, but they look good.

  “Is there something on Riden’s arm?” Niridia asks. It comes out so innocently, but I know better. Oh, she’ll pay for that one later.

  Riden looks over his shoulder at me.

  “Thought I could make him move faster by sheer force of will,” I say.

  “If you’d like to come saw, I’ll gladly switch you places,” Riden says.

  Three-quarters of the way through sawing, the tree starts to crack on its own, the weight of it bringing it right down toward the ropes. The nearby roped-up trees do most of the work in catching the weight, but we all still get dragged a foot forward in the dirt.

  “Cut most of the branches as close to the trunk as possible,” Radita says, “but don’t nick the trunk. Save a few longer branches as handholds for carrying it back to the ship.”

  We lower the tree and start hacking with whatever we have. Some brought axes from the ship. Others pull out their cutlasses for the smaller branches. Riden and Kearan take the saw to the lower, bigger branches. The work is painstakingly slow. This pine has innumerable branches, which is a good sign that it’s healthy, but more work for us. I keep one eye on the branches I’m cutting, another on the surrounding trees, searching for anything approaching.

  I can see the back of Lotiya’s head from atop the rocky rise above the cave opening. Deshel is hidden opposite her, probably up in one of the trees on the other side of the clearing, guarding our backs.

  Still, this place is too ripe with animal and plant life for me to believe nothing else lives here. It would be the perfect place for a settlement, were the land king to discover this place. And if the sirens migrate to this place, surely it can’t be empty? Why else would they come if there weren’t men for them to prey on?

  I hit a knot in the branch I’m tackling, so I put even more force behind my next blow, and the wood finally cracks. The girls weave around one another to travel from one felled branch to the next. We care not for neat cuts or even nubs. We can make things look pretty later.

  Speed is my only concern. On and off the island.

  Every mouth groans from the weight of the tree as we carry, drag, push, and pull the trunk
to the ship. Several times we have to attach ropes and pulleys to nearby trees to get the trunk over hills. Even with my strength at the fat base of the trunk, the tree proves challenging. We pause several times to catch our breath.

  Lotiya and Deshel follow our movements in a wide arc, ready to warn us at the first sign of danger. My entire body is tense, just waiting for a warning call, sure it must be coming any second.

  When we reach the beach and the ship is finally in sight, a collective sigh looses into the air. Deshel returns from her position and peers at the spot opposite her own watch, where her sister should be.

  “Where’s Lotiya?” Deshel asks.

  Heads turn, but no one says anything. I know it’s not likely that she wandered off on her own. Worry takes root in my chest.

  “Lotiya!” Deshel shouts.

  “Hush,” I tell her. “We’ll search for her.” I look through the crew. “Sorinda, Mandsy, Riden, and Deros—you’re with me. Niridia, get this trunk to the ship. Radita, do what you can to get my ship going again.”

  “You don’t want me to come with you?” Niridia asks.

  “If Lotiya is injured, I’ll need Mandsy more.” If I’m not with the ship, I always need one of them with it in my stead. I can’t take them both.

  “Shouldn’t I come, too?” Kearan asks.

  “No, I need your strength focused on moving the trunk.”

  Kearan darts a glance in Sorinda’s direction so quickly I almost miss it. “What if you run into danger? I could—”

  “You’re to stay, Kearan. End of discussion.”

  “I will be joining you,” Deshel demands.

  “Of course,” I say. “Everyone, move out.”

  The majority of the crew get back to dragging the trunk toward the ship, and my little party of six turns back for the island.

  It’s easy to retrace our steps. The tree trunk left a clear trail through the forest, turning up dirt and plants as we dragged it in places. In other spots, our feet left deep divots in the ground where the weight of the pine drove us into the forest floor.

  We keep the trail to our right, traveling along the path that Lotiya would have taken while on watch. I’ve brought Deros with us because he has some skill with tracking on land. He and his brother lived together, spending their days hunting in the woods for food, until an accident befell his brother. Another, less-experienced hunter got spooked and shot before realizing it was no beast that was near him. The death hit Deros strongly. He wanted to forget everything that reminded him of his brother. So he looked for work on the sea, hiring on with my crew.

  “Here,” he says. “I’ve found her trail.”

  “It’s more than one set of tracks,” Sorinda puts in.

  “Yes,” Deros agrees.

  “Someone took her,” Mandsy says.

  Even I can guess the lines tracing over the needle-covered ground indicate she was dragged.

  “There’s blood, too,” Deshel says, her voice breathier than usual.

  Deros moves us at a faster pace through the woods now that we’ve found the trail, whipping past tree branches, leaping over roots, dodging bushes and brambles.

  The trail takes us back to the clearing. The blood droplets end right outside the mouth of the cave.

  Chapter 12

  THE STENCH OF THE cave is overwhelming. I can’t believe we couldn’t smell it from outside. It’s decaying flesh and human waste all wrapped into one. The airflow is limited, making the scents almost overpowering. Mandsy pulls her blouse over her nose.

  The smell is not nearly so disturbing as the bones, however. They cover the floor like a carpet.

  I lower one of the torches, which we fashioned out of branches, ripped cloth, and tree sap, to get a better look.

  “I recognize deer, mountain cat, and rabbit bones,” Deros says.

  “These are human,” I say, pointing to a pile of skulls.

  “I thought we were following human tracks,” Riden says. “But this is the lair of some kind of beast.”

  “I don’t understand it, either,” Deros says.

  “Are we to stand here talking about what we don’t understand, or are we going to save my sister?” Deshel asks.

  “I can’t pick out a trail in this, Captain,” Deros says. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll take the lead now,” I say.

  We walk single file, each of us holding a torch for light. Riden is at my back. He is followed by Mandsy, Deros, and Deshel. Sorinda takes up the rear.

  We move slowly, doing our best not to make a sound, which is difficult when the bones crunch under our feet.

  The cave walls are not smooth like the tunnels at the keep. They’re jagged and rough. Everything is wet. Water drips from the roof and trickles down the sides. There must be small openings all along the cave for the rain to get in.

  It supports all the insect growth.

  Webs dotted with raindrops nestle into the corners. Bugs with far too many legs race across the walls. Worms wriggle on top of the rocky soil at our feet. Crickets fill the space with their chirps.

  My skin crawls at the sight. I would brave far worse for anyone in my crew, but did there have to be bugs?

  When we come to a fork in the path, I make everyone halt.

  “What are you waiting for?” Deshel asks. “Just split us up.”

  Our group is small as it is, we need to be—

  A scream—a sound of pure agony—rips through my senses, making my hair stand on end.

  “Lotiya!” Deshel shouts. “I’m coming!”

  She takes off like a shot down the right tunnel, and the rest of us can do nothing but follow.

  Bones scatter in Deshel’s desperate footsteps. She winds around corners, picks random paths when the tunnel forks again and again.

  I’ve almost caught up to her when she halts abruptly.

  The tunnel tapers down into a dead end.

  “Damn it!” Deshel shrieks. She tries to turn, but I grasp her by the shoulders. Hard.

  “Deshel, we will find her, but not like this. You need to stop. Listen. We won’t find her this way. All you’ve done is get us lost.”

  I grasp her arm. Together, we turn around and start back up the way we came. Another scream chokes out of the tunnels. I squeeze Deshel’s arm so tightly she gasps in pain. When I have her attention, I point to one of my ears.

  Listen.

  Carefully, quietly this time, we follow the sounds, tracking them to their source. Down thin tunnels, up a slight rise, left at two more forks. I’m about to go around another corner, when the screaming cuts off.

  Dread rests low in my belly. Screaming is good. Screaming means Lotiya is still alive. But now—

  “Wait here,” I say to the group. I hand Deshel over to Deros, so she can’t disobey orders. Quiet as ever, I duck around the next corner and immediately crouch down low. There’s a ledge where my tunnel ends. Below it is a wide cavern, with several tunnels branching out from it in different directions.

  A body kneels next to me. Riden. I could smack him right now for not listening to me, but that would alert the men in the cavern ahead of us to our presence.

  From our vantage point, the backs of three men are to us. I glance at Riden, who is just as surprised as I am. I was sure we’d find some monster first. Why would there be men in the feeding ground of a vicious beast? Their attire is not unlike ours, save it’s quite dirty and worn with rips and tears. They’re not natives, then. Perhaps they’re men from the land king’s fleet who were shipwrecked here during one of their excavations?

  Whoever they are, they’re huddled over something in front of them, chomping loudly and smacking their lips together. Aside from the men and their meal, there doesn’t appear to be anything else in the space except several lit torches that have been staked into the ground along the edges. I size up the room and the exits thoroughly before indicating to Riden that we should back up around the corner.

  “What is it?” Sorinda whispers.

  “Men. Th
ree of them. No signs of Lotiya.”

  “We should jump them,” Deshel says. “Make them tell us where the creature could have taken Lotiya.”

  Sorinda pushes off from the wall she’d been leaning against. “And we can threaten to tie them up and leave them for whatever is in this cave if they don’t give us answers.”

  “Let’s do it,” I say. One by one we silently drop down from the ledge into the cavern. The men don’t stray from their meal as our feet touch the ground. They probably can’t hear us over the sounds of their own chomping. Men can be so disgusting, especially when they think no one is looking.

  When Sorinda drops down last, I speak forcefully to the men we’ve stumbled upon.

  “Turn around slowly.”

  Their backs go ramrod straight at my words. They turn, and I expect them to run or draw the swords at their waists or call for help.

  Bright red blood runs down their chins. Their eyes are dull, lifeless, as though their bodies are only empty shells. And then, in one of their hands, I spot the remains of an arm with part of Lotiya’s shirt still attached to it.

  Deshel begins shrieking as the men spring at us. My hand goes to my pistol, cocking it back as I raise it. My gun isn’t the only one that fires.

  All three of them go down, blood pooling from multiple holes in their chests. The shots echo down the tunnels long after the men fall.

  I stare at the bodies for a long time, until a sickly realization comes to me. I know who these men are.

  Deshel runs toward her sister’s remains. Lotiya’s throat has been ripped out. She’s missing a leg and an arm and so much blood. It’s all over the cave floor.

  Animal-like shouts and growls sound down the cave and grow closer, alerted to our presence by the gunshots.

  Mandsy goes for Lotiya’s body, as though there’s something she can do to help. But it’s useless. She’s gone. My eyes sting to see what’s left of her. Deshel pushes Mandsy aside and grabs her sister’s body. She hauls it over her back. “Let’s get out of here,” she says, a look of steel in her eyes.

  She’s right. No time to grieve now. I have to get the rest of us out of here alive.

  There are four pathways leading out of the cavern, not including the ledge we dropped down from. One of them has to lead us out. With a body to carry, the ledge isn’t our best option.