by S A Edwards
I sneezed.
He sneezed. Then, he hiccupped.
A spark of flaming white spat from his mouth. The grass caught fire, emitting surprising heat from his unusual flames.
I scrambled backward, shocked at the ferocity, and suddenly unsure whether it would burn me.
Siren jumped on it.
Power tingled through the ground into my palms, and the flames extinguished.
Siren gazed at me, tail waving madly.
“Well,” I said, “that’s quite a gift. I guess it explains why you’re so warm.”
He placed his paw on my hand, and I smiled.
When the afternoon came, he led me back to the library before snuggling up on my knee. The next time I had seen Prudens, I’d inquired about any restrictions on the books.
“They’re open for all,” he said. “Feel free to peruse any that catch your eye.”
Despite my constant searching for the key or any information about the sealed book, the library revealed nothing. Thoughts that it might contain something to help free Charlie occurred to me, and the curiosity played on my mind. I should have asked where to find the key, but I hadn’t seen Prudens since. I’d asked Siren at one point, but he answered with silence and a blank expression, so I settled for learning what I could about this new world in the hopes of being better able to protect myself.
Even with the joy of Siren’s company and the safety of the Might, my thoughts lingered on Charlie, and my worry grew. Every day, Zantos would be gathering more power, and with the Gates weakening and his growing strength, the impending threat increased more each minute.
Besides, as interesting as the legends and folklore throughout history were, it didn’t bring me any closer to saving Charlie.
I shoved aside another book with a sigh.
Siren opened his eyes and peered up at me.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “Didn’t mean to disturb you. I just …” A huge pile of books lay discarded on the table, each fascinating in its own way, and each as useless at providing a solution as the last.
Siren shoved my arm with his nose.
“I’m okay.” I caressed his soft scales, tracing the diamond-like spikes along his spine. “I keep thinking about Charlie. I don’t know how much you understand, so maybe you don’t know about him. He was my best friend, my brother. He’s trapped in the Underworld, possessed by an evil Keeper, and I have no way to get him out.”
Siren ran his paws up my chest and stretched until his nose pressed against mine. Sweet vanilla filled the air.
I closed my eyes, embracing his warmth and the peace that accompanied it.
“He needs me,” I said. “I have to get him out.”
*
When I woke the next morning, the heat of Siren’s presence seemed greater and pressed right along my side.
I peered at Siren and tried to stifle my gasp.
Instead of the tiny newling who accompanied me through every second of the past few days, a huge creature lay by my feet with glistening, white scales and a thick tail that burrowed into the sheets at my side. Any bigger and he would no longer fit on the bed.
Siren raised his head and pierced me with startling blue eyes.
“How have you grown so fast?” I asked.
He shuffled into a sitting position and folded his wings around himself.
White light beamed from his scales, and he shrank, morphing into human form, perhaps, in appearance only, a few years older than me. Short, ruffled, blonde hair framed his handsome head, perfectly framing his full lips. Muscles adorned his arms and torso, and his knees were pulled up to his chest.
He grinned, flashing flawless teeth, and his eyes sparkled. “Hello, Clara.”
I stared at him, heart pounding in my shock. “But … you were a baby.”
He shrugged. “It takes a few days to mature. But now that I have,” – he reached out his hand – “it’s nice to finally meet you. In person.”
I didn’t move. “You’re naked.”
“Oh!” His cheeks reddened, and he leapt from the bed, tugging the sheet out from under me.
I rolled backward with the movement and struggled to sit again.
He dipped around the wardrobe door and returned a few moments later with a pair of black trousers and white tunic.
I stared at them. Hadn’t everything in there been woman’s clothing? When had they been added?
He approached the bed again and held out his arms. “Better?”
“Much.” I slid off the mattress warily, gaze straying over his smooth arm muscles, his straight posture, the tilt of his head.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Siren.”
“No, I mean your real name.”
“That is my real name. It was from the moment you gave it to me.” He perched on the edge of the bed, and I sank beside him.
The symbol of the Ancients marked his wrist. I absently traced my fingers over his warm skin, and the same comforting feeling he brought as a newling washed over me.
Except he wasn’t a newling anymore.
I dropped my hand in embarrassment.
“You should know,” he said, “I understood everything you said. I felt your pain when you spoke of Charlie, your awe when you beheld the library, your fear when I fell from the sky. We are connected, you and I.”
“But why? Why did you wait all those years for me?”
“You are my other half.”
I laughed. “Yeah, okay, then.”
He frowned, and my amusement faded.
“Wait, you’re serious?” I asked.
“Of course. I wouldn’t jest about something this important.”
“That kind of thing just doesn’t happen,” I said. “The whole prophecy – destined to be together thing. It’s just there in stories.”
“Well, it’s in our story, too. Together, we make one, and our magic is complete.”
“Complete how?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t discovered my gifts yet, except my flames, of course. We are learning together.”
I shook my head. “No, I’ve already had to master my gifts. If I hadn’t, the corruption would have got me ages ago.”
“Are you sure about that?” He brushed my hair behind my ear, and I tensed. “I have the feeling there’s more to you than you know,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Just a sense. It’s strange. I used to understand things so completely.” He frowned at the door. “Since I birthed, my knowledge feels … fuzzy.”
A low ache of hunger tugged at my tummy.
His attention shifted to me. “You’re hungry.”
“How –”
“I feel what you do. Your pain, your longing, your hunger. Even your connection with Charlie. I hold the desire to free him as much as you, as though I knew him, too.”
I fidgeted with the sleeve of my nightgown, uncomfortable with his statement. Surely, that couldn’t be true. My feelings were my own. Not his.
His troubled frown resumed, and then he stood. “Come on. Let’s go to breakfast.”
“Just a sec.” I grabbed some trousers and a sapphire tunic and slipped into the bathroom to change, glad I’d used the privacy of the bathroom every day since Siren’s birth. Thoughts of him having seen anything had I chosen differently didn’t bear thinking about.
Siren waited for me in the hallway and flashed a crooked smile when I joined him. “It must be weird for you to see me like this,” he said.
“A little. You’ve always been so much smaller. And so warm.” I missed the comforting feel of his scales on my neck. Without it, the corridor seemed cold.
He slid his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers, and heat spread up my arm.
I narrowed my eyes, alarmed at how comforting his hand felt on mine. “Can you read my mind, too?”
He chuckled. “No.”
Prudens beckoned to us when we entered the dining hall, and the eyes of the present Ancients tur
ned our way. “Welcome,” Prudens said, and clasped Siren’s forearm, unlinking his fingers from mine. They exchanged a bow, and then approached a table.
Siren held out a chair for me, and my cheeks reddened.
“Everything you need for your journey is prepared.” Prudens nodded to two packs resting against the wall by the open doors.
“Our journey?” I asked.
“To the Whisperleaf Tree,” Siren said.
“Now that Siren has matured, he needs to begin his cleanse,” Prudens said. “It is wiser to travel together.”
“So, how do we get there?” I asked.
“There is a path leading to the cavern. Though a perilous one, if you heed the instruction of Siren, you will be safe.”
Siren ate his milk-cream with little conversation. Every morning he had lapped from my bowl, stopping once he depleted half of the dish, and then he would slide the remaining portion to me. I never ate it, but a small part of me wondered if he would do the same today.
He didn’t and stood upon finishing. “I will meet you outside.” He smiled and headed toward the packs.
“I trust you didn’t get too much of a shock upon waking,” Prudens said. “Were you aware of his coming transformation?”
“I hadn’t given it any thought, to be honest. He was a newling. I just took him as that. But surely you know how I reacted? Don’t you learn what the Ancients experience?”
“Alas, my suspicion has come to pass. I only catch glimpses of Siren’s life now.”
I glanced toward the door. Siren conversed with Amicus, our packs hanging over his shoulder. “Do you know what they’re saying?” I asked.
“Indeed. I still see through Amicus’ eyes.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot about that.” I wondered how Amicus felt about that. Although, with having Prudens watching his whole life, perhaps it didn’t bother him. Even so, I was glad he couldn’t access my mind.
Prudens smiled. “Prepare yourself for today. You have a trying journey ahead. When you reach the Whisperleaf Tree you may gain the answers you seek, but you will first be tested. Do not fear the truth. It is for your benefit, and without it, you could not achieve your potential.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“You will. And though your path will not be easy, it will be worth it. Good luck.”
20
Istared at my remaining milk-cream, nerves fluttering in my throat. How would a tree give me the answers I sought? And how would I be tested? Prudens spoke as though he already knew what awaited in my future, but if that were the case, why wouldn’t he just tell me instead of making me go all the way to a tree in the depths of the Might?
I was about to ask him as much, but he stood and left the hall without another word.
Popping a silberry in my mouth, I headed over to Siren.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
I nodded, fighting my anxiety. I needed to do this. To restore the balance, and more importantly, for Charlie. No danger or test would keep me from saving him, no matter how vague they seemed now.
Siren’s brow lowered.
I blushed in the knowledge he was feeling my fear. “I’m fine.”
“Mm hmm.” He slipped his hand into mine and led me into the courtyard. Warmth travelled up my arm at his touch, and my nerves eased.
I ran my thumb over the mark on his wrist, curious about how comfortable this felt. Siren was practically a stranger to me, and yet, it was as though I’d known him all my life. How could that be possible?
He paused by the fountain and plucked a petal off a Lallana.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Remember what Amicus said about the petals?”
I thought back. “He said an Ancient eats one every three hundred years to begin their cleanse, but you were just a newling then. You heard that over your playing?”
“I heard every conversation you had.” He slipped the petal into a pack, and then pulled me toward a narrow corridor.
“But what is a cleanse?” I asked.
“I’m not sure my description will do it justice.” He swung the second pack to me.
I hefted it over my shoulder and followed him through a rough, stone archway. The stone appeared out of place compared to the extravagance of the Might. A cool breeze fluttered my hair.
A narrow corridor led deeper through the Might, and blue-tinted sunlight filtered through a gap in the roof.
At the end of the corridor, the hallway turned.
Steep, wide steps led down and twisted out of sight in the dark. I called my flames, allowing them to flicker across my hand. Shadows danced on the cold stone, and I shivered. “So, you’re not going to tell me?” My voice echoed, raising the hairs on my arms.
He glanced at me.
“What a cleanse is,” I said.
“I’ll let you watch instead.” He winked and placed a hand on my waist, drawing me closer and gesturing down the stairs.
I started down, enveloped in a new chill. “Prudens said he can’t see your experiences like he can with the others,” I said. “Not since you changed into … you know.” I gestured at his body.
His lips tightened. “I confess I am blocking him.”
“Why?”
“His gift is a divine one. With it, he gains the wisdom of all. But certain elements of my life are private, especially my time with you. I feel your emotions, and most times, I can guess the cause of them. Whatever the reason behind our connection, I suspect we will do better without an onlooker.”
I frowned at his statement. Why was he so sure there was a connection? Just because I somehow made him hatch didn’t mean we were ‘destined’.
Our footfalls tapping on the stone filled the silence, and my legs stung from the descent, so my focus turned to my fire. Touches of blue danced on my palm, mingling with the heat of the orange, though the warmth didn’t compare to the touch of the Ancient beside me when he brushed my arm.
The stairs ended, and a long tunnel stretched ahead, winding relentlessly. A humid breeze floated along my skin. Within minutes, sweat clung to my back and dampened my forehead.
Digging into my pack, I drew out one of three large flasks and drank deeply.
“Careful,” Siren warned, “you need to make them last.”
Remembering Prudens’ advice to heed Siren’s instructions, I tucked the flask away despite my dry mouth. My stomach twisted with increasing nerves, though that didn’t make sense. I faced much worse in the past. “Why can’t I feel your emotions?” I asked. If he felt mine, wouldn’t it make sense to feel his, too?
“I imagine you might if they differ to yours. Right now, I am as nervous as you.”
Which would explain why my anxiousness was so strong. “What are you nervous about?”
“My cleanse. Naturally, I’ve seen it done hundreds of times, but I’ve never actually experienced it myself.”
“Of course, naturally.” Except nothing about this was natural.
He gave a little giggle.
When the tunnel finally ended, my feet were aching from the hard floor, and I longed for a drink.
An arch opened to a sheer cliff, and the sun shone high above where the rock opened in a circle, though its rays barely reached us so far down the cliff. Another rock face stretched across the chasm, void of details in the gloom. Crude steps cut in the cliff-face below us led deeper into the depths.
I peeked over the edge, and my stomach lurched. Several steps below us, a mist blocked out any sign of the bottom and obscured the rock from view.
Siren edged out onto the ledge.
“How far down do you think it goes?” I asked.
He picked up a loose rock and threw it into the abyss.
We waited.
After many moments of silence, we exchanged a wide-eyed glance. My own worry flashed on his face.
I clung to the arch. “I suppose we have to go down there?”
“I’m afraid so.”
He stepped off the ledge
to the first step. A part of me expected it to crumble and fall, but it held steady, and he lowered himself to the next one.
I licked my dry lips.
“Take a drink,” he said. “As much as you need, but don’t move to the second flask yet.”
I grabbed my flask and emptied it in haste.
He drank, too, and then offered me his hand. “Take it slow.”
My legs trembled when I sat on the ledge, and my stomach churned, threatening to return the water.
“Breathe,” he said. “I won’t let you fall.”
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Have you ever heard of an Ancient afraid of heights?”
I laughed, despite our circumstances.
“Your fear is the only fear I feel.” He pursed his lips. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
Warily, I obeyed.
“Focus on me,” he said. “On my emotions. Will yourself to blend with them. Allow them to become yours.”
That seemed a bit intimate. Despite all this talk about our ‘connection’, I wasn’t comfortable blending with him so completely. I was still me, still my own person, and no amount of ‘fate’ or our apparent ‘connection’ would change that.
“I sense your hesitation,” he said.
My jaw tightened.
“I’m just trying to help you calm down. That’s all. You can pull back again at any time.” He took my hand in his.
It was worth a try. I dragged my attention to the touch of his hand on mine, to the warmth through my arm, to the peace he brought.
A new feeling surged within me: a thrill, a desire to leap from the edge and spread my wings, to feel the wind on my face, the freedom of flight.
I opened my eyes.
“Now don’t act on that feeling,” he said. “I’m the one with the wings, remember?”
My smile washed away my nerves. “Is this how you feel all the time?”
“When around heights. Flying is an incredible experience.”
“Well, if you know you can never fall, then yes, I suppose it could be.”
“Just focus on that feeling and keep going.” He released my hand and moved to the next step.
Hours must have passed before we stopped to eat. I sat against the wall with my second flask and a slab of white, minty stuff that melted on my tongue and delivered a burst of energy to my screaming muscles.
