6
Cold Pie
Syren
Rolling to a stop, our conversation-less carriage ride comes to an end. The pile looks larger than ever, casting its orange glow through the windows and over every angle of the interior.
Miranda reaches for the knob, his hair still attractively tucked around his face, the eyeliner seemingly unsmudged. Though he roughly rubs his sleeve over both eyes, trying to wear the look away before entering his court.
“That really is good eyeliner.” I offer a tentative smile, still aware of all the tension I alone have created.
He chuckles and pushes the door open for me. “I’ll get you some so you can try it out for yourself. I know a guy.”
Of course he does.
The carriage bobs as we climb out. Gravel grinds under my feet while the stars reflect off my shining onyx castle.Are you asking the right questions, Syren?
Am I? Surely, I have not, because if I had, there would be answers by now. Think, Syren. Think!
“After you.” Miranda points up the grand steps to the waiting closed doors.
“Actually, I’ve got an interview with a river to do.” I step away from him toward the path that will take me to the small river on the back of the castle grounds. “You know, trying to find the right questions to ask.”
“You water fae are so weird.” Miranda shrugs. “Fire doesn’t talk. It only burns. Go ahead now, run off and have fun talking to inanimate objects.”
“Jealous,” I whisper, walking backward.
“Perhaps.” Miranda winks and turns to take the steps. “Don’t leave the castle grounds, Princess. Or our King might not be so happy, and we both know what happens when he isn’t happy.”
Something in the air seemed to spark. An electricity of excitement within me and urgency to find answers. Even through the sparse trees, past the bewitched flowers of the King’s garden, and near the farthest gate of the castle grounds, the waters call my name.
A tingle of magic fizzes against my hands, traveling up my arms and back. It’s magic more powerful than I have yet to fully comprehend according to this water witch, according to my birth mother.
I pat my pocket, reassuring myself that the simple necklace remains. I nod as I leave behind some pacing guards who watch me, interested, but make no move to intercept me. Within these walls, I remain safe. And never alone.
The closer I grow, the faster my movements become. I sprint forward once the racing waters come to view. Trickling, the river ebbs to a small creek that splits from the main path the water has forged. Silver under the moon, the liquid flows in its lively current and splashes over large rocks.
Stiff and cold, the earth digs into my knees as I fall forward, letting the icy bite of the creek sink its teeth into my skin. I can feel the heartbeat of all the life that lives within the water.
Where is she? Where is she?My nerves grow, my body shaking with the thirst for this knowledge. I’ll beg the world for the information if I must.
“Where is she?”I yell, closing my eyes.
Magic glows in strands of the water’s current, white and pure, swirling and swaying under the even surface till it meets my fingertips.
I can see her.
Dress ragged and torn, hair ratted, and her brilliant blue eyes squinting up to the moonlight. Leaning down, she dips her hand into the river, cupping up fresh water while her gaze still twitches from side to side. She drinks and lets the excess water splash to the ground as the sound of guards nears. Her gown snags against the tree as she disappears into the brush, ripping it only further.
My eyelashes flutter as I look straight ahead. Soft silk swaying in the breeze clings against a tree just past the other side of the creek.
“No!” I scream, slamming my fists into the earth. Water arches up into two tidal waves meeting and crashing apart.
Pushing off from the wet earth, I sling myself past the trees. Wind makes my cheeks rosy, mirroring the burn of my frustration.
Clad in black armor, a guard tilts his head. “Are you all right, Princess?”
Am I all right? I finally asked the fucking right question, but you, my good friend, did not.
