Perhaps I was the weak one. Too weak to let go.
“If you think yourself strong enough,” she said. “Then go back.”
I spun back around, furrowing my brows. “Back where?”
“Is this what it’s like to be human? You have the answers and you ignore them? Just as your hunter knew he had to kill you, and he let you rot in that hellscape instead.”
I tilted my head at her, ignoring her feeble attempt to turn my attention on Vidar. When the answer came, it was not surprising to me. But it was in no way an easy solution to anything nor was it a comforting one.
“Theloch,” I whispered.
Finally, that smile settled back on Lyla’s lips as if it had been waiting for a door to open, but it was only half of what it used to be, drained of the energy she needed to taunt me properly. She was tired. Unmotivated. I wasn’t sure who that helped or if it helped anyone.
I turned to Vidar to see him already looking at me rather than the enraged Lyla as if he was waiting for a command.
“What is Theloch?” he said.
“It’s where I was born. And perhaps where we’ll find what we’re looking for.”
“You know where it is?”
“Yes.”
He stole a quick glance at Lyla with a sigh. “If you wish her to live, she cannot be able to use her voice against us. I won’t have something so temporary as a gag to silence her.”
“I know.”
“Stop your whispering,” Lyla teased, mimicking our tone. “I have no attachment to my tongue, but I will not make it easy.” She nudged herself closer to the bars, resting her forehead against themetal. She gave us a hard stare and then shifted her gaze further into the clearing. “Unless he does it.”
In unison, we followed her gaze to find Cathal standing next to one of the campfires carving into an overripe apple with a sturdy knife. He ceased chewing when he caught us looking at him and quickly, his brows raised, the realization flowing over him like a splash of cold water. He swallowed, clearing his throat as he shifted his weight to one leg.
“Am I missing something?” I asked.
“Only that he cut off her finger when we were questioning her on how to wake you,” Vidar said.
“What game is this, Lyla?” I asked.
“My game,” she admitted. “I will fight every single one of you and I will succeed in hurting someone, but for him? I will be a good little siren.”
I found myself looking back and forth between Lyla and Cathal, trying to figure out what reason she would have for focusing her attention on him. I barely knew him, but it certainly seemed that she had her sights set on the man. For what, I didn’t know, but I could only assume it was a ploy of some kind if he truly had taken a finger.
Sirens were vengeful. I knew that better than anyone.
Finally, I settled my gaze on Cathal and stared, waiting for him to answer the question that every single person in that camp was silently asking. He moved his attention from me to Lyla a dozen times before he finally shrugged his shoulders, letting out a deep sigh as he passed his half-eaten apple off to someone standing nearby. He wiped his knife haphazardly on his shirt as he strolled toward us. Mullins and Vidar moved toward the cage and pulled Lyla out and onto her feet. She stumbled a bit, betraying the fact that she hadn’t properly used her legs in days. She was shoved before Cathal, who was still casually chewing on his last bite of fruit. I watched as she stared up at him, unyielding. Cathal, a bigman who was very clearly no stranger to violence, stared right back, tilting his head to one side with disturbed intrigue.
Lyla then lowered herself to her knees before him, her eyes still locked on him and a hint of a smile teasing the corners of her mouth.
“Go on, then,” she said. “After this, you’ll have taken more pieces of me than Akareth has.”
Cathal let out a ragged breath, flipping his knife skillfully in his hand. Vidar and Mullins continued to restrain her, but she showed no intention of trying to escape. In fact, as Cathal inched forward, she opened her mouth invitingly, stretching her tongue outward and holding his gaze like it was a dare.
Across from me, Aeris stood with Nazario. Before any cutting started, she lowered her head, quietly shifting behind some of the men as if trying to hide from the violence that didn’t seem to bother anyone else.
Cathal gripped Lyla’s jaw, tilting her head back as he raised his knife. She did not let her eyes stray as he focused on the task. It was almost predatory. When Cathal began to cut, the only indication that she felt anything at all was a slight and almost unnoticeable wince in her eyes and the way she flexed her hands behind her. Otherwise, she was silent.
In two swift swipes of the blade, Cathal pulled Lyla’s tongue away, letting out a breath as if he’d been holding it to do the job. He stepped back, tossing the small mass of flesh into a fire. The sound of the sizzle filled the clearing as Lyla hunched, letting the blood drain from her mouth and onto the ground in front of her. Acting on impulse, I moved to her front and crouched, lifting her face in my hands. Her chin glistened dark red, the blood painting the front of her neck and chest.
I wanted to say I was sorry, though I didn’t know what for. Lyla had done nothing but monstrous things since we met. Now, when we did something monstrous in return, she only had smiles to give.
