“Not yet,” Elora responds, giving my hand one more squeeze before letting go.
We spend the entire evening choosing fabrics and accessories that fit the autumnal theme of the ball, Sarai and the other women pinning and shaping them until a lovely dress begins to take form.
“It isn’t too much?” I ask out loud, my hand resting over the expanse of skin that will be on display at my chest.
“Princess Bahira has worn things much morerevealingthan this, My Lady,” a different woman answers, adjusting a panel that covers my breast to make it a little wider. Elora snorts in agreement from the center of her own gathering of fabric. “Of course, if you are uncomfortable with the design, we can add more fabric or even a colored applique in the middle.”
I stare at my reflection. At how the deep color of the dress makes my light complexion glow, my hair in perfect golden contrast to it. Its silky texture clings to my upper body, while its length flows down to the tops of my feet. I’ve never worn something so lovely before, never had a reason to. I am a princess, in the barest sense of the word, but I have never attended anything soroyal. It makes me feel a bit like a fraud—a child playing dress-up in grown-ups’ clothing. That new voice in the back of my head, one formed from love and kindness and safety, begs me to think otherwise. Maybe I’ve earned a moment like this, and I’m finally stepping into a role that was always meant for me.
“If it won’t cause a scandal, then I should like to keep it as it is,” I say finally, smiling when Sarai and Elora clap in approval.
Chapter Sixty-Seven: Aria
The journey around thenortheastern end of the continent feels like the longest of the trip so far. The weather here is brutal, the winds colder and seas more violent. Then there are the dragons.
The Fae Kingdom is a mountainous one, the mist-covered jagged black peaks making up the majority of their terrain. On one of those peaks, miles away from where I poked my head above the water, I spotted my first dragon. Even with the distance between us, there was no mistaking its massive size. Itsdark-colored scales glinted in the sunlight, sharp and menacing—relaying to anyone looking that this was an apex predator. While I couldn’t be sure, I had the distinct feeling that it was scanning the water. I wasn’t going to linger long enough to find out if my red hair would garner its curiosity.
The second time I saw a dragon was after Mashaka and I had rounded the most eastern tip of the continent. The beast was bigger than even what my imagination could conjure as it flew close enough to drag its black claws against the water’s surface. It should be impossible for the dragon to see us beneath the surface, but as it glided above the waves, I swore I saw it tip its head to the side and down. Maybe not looking atus, but definitely looking forsomething. Mashaka ended up guiding us farther out into the open sea and away from the Fae Kingdom’s coast after that, and we have yet to see another dragon in the days that we have continued to swim.
I’ve lost track of the time we’ve been out here, long travel days and sleepless nights blending together in my mind. The fear of not making it home by my mother’s deadline propels me to keep going despite the aching exhaustion that twists within my muscles. As day surrenders to night, Mashaka and I catch our dinner and settle into a small clearing of grass surrounded by pink and red coral and bright blue anemones highlighted by the soft moonlight. Even though my very bones ache, once more, my mind is too loud to find sleep.
Laying my cheek on my forearm with my tail extended behind me, I look back at Mashaka. “I suppose that when we are back in Lumen, we will be enemies again.” The delphinidae stirs, opening a beady eye to look at me before snapping it shut again. I can’t help but smile, his grumpiness a little more endearing than when we embarked on this journey. “Even if wewantedto be friends, Allegra would never allow it,” I continue, grimacing when he tenses at the mention of my sister. “I couldn’t havedone this trip without you, though, so thank you.” He doesn’t stir again.
What would life look like once I got back? I am unwanted by the sirens of the seamounts, unwanted but needed in ways that I wish I weren’t by my mother. Eventually, I willhaveto bear offspring. I will have to watch them get forced into the same life I was perpetually stuck in. Not returning home seemed so easy,so tempting. Yet what would I do? Where would I go? The ocean is vast, but I know that the siren queen’s reach is bigger.
Thoughts about leaving, about Lyre and the males that I’ve killed, rattle in my mind until I’mfinallytoo tired for even that. Sleep claims me, but not before I feel Mashaka shift the smallest amount. Just until his warm body brushes against the scales of my tail. A soft reminder that I’m not alone.
There is debris everywhere. The waters just off of the coast churn with chunks of wood and an eeriecreakingsound that vibrates to us on the current. In the distance, a ship is tilted on its side, part of its deck submerged. Two sirens, their jewel-colored hair bright amongst the destruction, float in the water nearby. Their song hits my ears as we get closer.
“Let’s try to go around to the other side by the hull,” I suggest quietly to Mashaka. We stay low to the rocky ocean floor, its sharp points causing me to hiss every time I scrape my arm or tail against them while the sinking ship looms to our left. Mashaka makes a chittering sound as he too becomes scratched on his underbelly. But the ship is large enough that, unless we backtrack a few miles, we’ll be spotted by the other sirens if we try to go around its front. I’d rather not lose any extra time to unnecessary travel.
The sirens’ singing grows louder, their melodic magic calling to my own as it tickles the base of my throat.
I look at the black tar of the ship’s hull, a jagged line torn into it from nearly end to end. More pieces of wood float by us along with other bits of torn cloth and items from inside the ship that are too heavy to bob on the surface and instead ride the current. It becomes tedious trying to avoid them. Mashaka squeaks and swims upward, and I follow behind him, poking my head above the surface to look around.
Cracking cleaves the air as more water fills the ship, sending it towards the shallow ocean floor. The ballad of the sirens is close, and even with our song less powerful now than it used to be, I’m surprised that they are still singing and not already off with their captured victims. My stomach sours at the thought, and I continue moving with my head above water and Mashaka at my side beneath it.
We’re nearly clear of the massive ship when movement on the surface catches my eye. I freeze, afraid we’ve been spotted by one of the sirens. Narrowing my eyes, I make out what looks like a bundle of black fabric lying on a large piece of wood torn from the ship, and I swim tentatively in its direction, pushing debris out of my way. A figure takes shape as I near, not a bundle of fabric but aperson. Lowering my head back into the water, I look around in all directions to ensure that Mashaka and I are alone before coming back up.
Miraculously, they must have either fallen before the sirens song started or jumped, lured in by it, and landed on this makeshift raft instead, knocking themselves out.Lucky, I think to myself as I edge my way around it. Red stains the wood by their head and dark strands glisten under the sunlight as they drape over the being’s features, obscuring any details I can make out about how old they might be.
Carefully, I lift my hand and retract my talons, using the tip of my finger to move their hair behind their ear. Theirpointedear. I gasp and yank my hand back quickly. My lips part as I take in thefemalelying unconscious before me. Not just any female, but a fae one. This is a fae ship;no wonder the sirens had to keep singing. The fae, while not totally immune to our song,dohave a delayed reaction to it. While they cannot ignore the call of the siren as a shifter can in their animal form, something aboutthemmakes it so that theycanwithstand it for longer than a mage or mortal. Though that ability always seemed like a form of torture to me. What was the point of delaying the inevitable when, in the end, it wouldn’t even matter?
I look over her delicately arched ear, its shape and length smaller than the fae males I had seen. Her full dark lashes lightly brush the top of her high cheekbones, and her faintly pink lips are parted with her labored breaths. Blood leaks from the corner of her mouth, but despite the state of her body, she, like all fae, has a divine beauty to her. My eyes linger on every part of her that I can see, inspecting her for any other injuries, though it’s impossible to tell with how dark her clothing is.
Something harsh tugs at my stomach as I stare at this helpless female. Would the other sirens leave her be if they were to find her like this? I doubt my mother would only send a group of two out to hunt, so these areroguesirens, which means they might just kill her because theycan.
I dip my head beneath the water again, looking around as Mashaka slowly circles beneath my tail. Shadows drift beneath the ship as the bodies of the fae males that have been lured in but abandoned by the sirens sink. When I reemerge, the air is quiet of all melody. We are miles from the shore, but I can take her back there. Let her wake up on the beach near the Spelled border. She’ll be safer than out in the open waters. Maybe she’ll even be spotted by another fae.
“Please let this work,” I whisper, checking one last time before I begin to maneuver the wooden plank in front of me. I make sure it stays as level as possible on the water so the female doesn’t jostle too much. Mashaka brushes against my side, either protesting this choice or letting me know that he is following. My panting breaths sound louder than the roiling sea, but I push my aching muscles—so tired from weeks and weeks of nonstop traveling—to keep up our steady pace. The fine hairs at the back of my neck lift, goosebumps breaking out over my flesh, but I don’t look back. I don’t risk slowing down or taking my eyes off of the unconscious fae in case she tumbles over the side and past the layer of the Spell. She lets out a deep groan, her slender pale fingers twitching.
Even above the rushing of the waves, I hear Mashaka’s squeak of warning. Digging my claws into the wood to make sure I’m anchored to it, I plunge my face beneath the water, my eyes needing a moment to adjust before I turn to look behind me. Mashaka’s tail is to me as he faces the two sirens who are nearing.
“Mashaka, we need to keep swimming,” I yell, keeping my head underwater and propelling myself forward. Urging my muscles to give everything they can and then begging them to give evenmore. The glares of the sirens now following me are a scrape of claws and sharp teeth down my back, making every part of my upper body tense, but I don’t stop.
Then the sensation is really there, a scream ripping from me as one of the sirens drags the sharp ends of her talons down my tail and through my delicate tail fin, shredding parts of it into ribbons. I lose my grip on the wooden plank, terror pulsing in my throat as I turn around and face a copper-haired siren whose claws are now painted in my blood.
The other siren catches up to her, her bright green braids coiled on the top of her head in a giant knot. “What are you doing with that fae?” she barks.
