CHAPTER48
We are taken backto the castle by force. While neither Ilryth nor I are manhandled, the message is clear enough from the brandished spears and harsh gazes: step out of line and it will not end well. No time is wasted on holding rooms or discussions. We are immediately escorted to the hall of the chorus, awash in the deep blue.
The other sirens have departed, no doubt forced away with words I’m not privy to. I think, had they been given the option, they would’ve much preferred to stay and watch our trial. The warriors and worshipers leave the hall with sharp notes cast in our direction. Hateful sneers.
I take it easily. I’m all too accustomed to such things. But it’s new to Ilryth. These callous gazes from the people he loved—sacrificed much for—wound him. I can feel it in my very soul as his eyes flash with pain even though he works to keep himself composed. I debate taking his hand, but resist. I don’t know what they know of our relationship,ifthey know of our love and all the lines we crossed. I can only suspect they have some idea, given that Ilryth defied all law to get to me. But, for now, it’s best not to give anything away until we must. Even if it pains me not to reach for him.
A few warriors hold their positions at the entry, forming a line to bar our escape. Even though we’ve done nothing to suggest we would try. Sevin, Remni, and Crowl are as still as statues upon their shells. Ventris and Fenny make a full chorus.
It is strange and painful, even for me, to see Fenny take Ilryth’s shell. She rests Dawnpoint across her lap. Each of the other dukes and duchess do the same with their own legendary spears. I wonder if their magic will be what it’ll take to open Lellia’s door. Or perhaps it doesn’t need such power and the door is shut only because no one has ever tried to open it and Lellia has grown too weak to do so herself even if she wants to.
Remni, head of the chorus, extends her spear into the center. All the others do the same. A faint glow ignites from their tips, lighting an anamnesis where the carved shell formerly was the last time I stood before a chorus.
“The chorus is in session,” Remni announces.
I waste no time. “I can explain—”
“Explain how you have ruined our seas? How you have betrayed us?” Ventris seethes. “Now you have come to mock us and swim in the waters of our doom.”
“Enough, Ventris,” I say curtly, loud enough for them all to hear. I hope the whole Eversea hears. I assess him with a cruel stare; he has never looked so small. “You’re nothing more than a sad little boy, hoping and tryingdesperatelyto live up to your father’s legacy. But you never will. You’re so wrapped up in trying to be him that you aren’t focusing on what made him great.”
“How dare you.” He tries to continue, but I won’t let him.
“You spend so much time putting on airs that you’ve never taken the time to do the work. You can’t even hear the words of Lord Krokan, can you?” It’s part guess, part truth that I gleaned from what Krokan said.
Ventris rears back, hands twisting around his spear. Shocked expressions have been carved into the chorus’s faces. Ilryth wears a slight smirk.
“Your father could, genuinely, but you cannot,” I continue. “You’ve spent so much time and effort on your displays of power and the prominence of your castle with its wards and carvings thathemade to compensate for what you’re lacking in substance. Your insecurities and hubris risk costing your people everything. It is because of you that the headway your father made went to waste.”
Ventris glowers at me. I’m surprised the water around him doesn’t bubble with the heat of his rage. “That is quite enough from you.”
“Is it true?” Remni, Duchess of Craftsmen, interjects coolly. She has her strong arms folded over her chest. It is not necessary for her to hold the spear to be imposing. “Have you been deceiving us? Can you not hear the song of Lord Krokan as your father could?”
Ventris’s head whips around. The movement is so sudden and violent that his whole body drifts in the water, nearly propelling him off his shell. “You can’t honestly—these lies—she’s—”
“A traitor,” Fenny finishes.
“Yes, a traitor,” Ventris says quickly. He looks at Fenny as though the woman is the key to his victories. “Her mind is twisted by depravity and, were it not for that, then the rot, which has only grown worse since—”
“Let me speak!” I say, louder than him. All their eyes return to me. “When I first met the chorus, I was shown how you all use measure and good sense to lead. How you treat all with respect and civility and do not jump to conclusions on important matters. I ask you to grant me the same, now. Let me speak.” My tone has calmed by the time I repeat myself. I motion to Ilryth. “Let him speak, too. We have the answers you’re seeking because the old gods have chosen us as their messengers.”
Crowl taps his spear against his thigh. “The human has a point.”
“You cannot honestly—” Fenny starts.
“You are fresh to this council, Duchess,” Remni interrupts coolly, “and your place among us is up for debate now that your brother has returned.” Before Fenny can even think of another word to say, Remni gestures to me. “Speak, then.”
“I stood before Lord Krokan. We both did.” I gesture between Ilryth and me. “But it did not lead us to madness. It led us toclarity. Lord Krokan sent us back—both of us—because there is something that must be done.” I take a moment to think of my next words. I must choose them with care. It’s up to me to convince these sirens that we must go against years of tradition and risk what has been the balance of the world until now in the process.
“And that ‘something’ is?” Remni asks, arching her eyebrows.
When I don’t respond immediately, Ventris can’t help himself. “See? Her mind is already fraying.”
“Lady Lellia is dying and Lord Krokan is revolting as a result—he wants to take her away so he can save them both,” I blurt. They all stare at me as though I’ve suddenly grown a tail like one of them and begun swimming. So much for trying to be tactful…
“Freeing Lellia from the Lifetree? Fellow chorus members, we aren’t going to entertain this drivel, are we?” Ventris’s voice has a note of relieved smugness. He thinks I’ve proved his point. I fear he might be right, given the expressions of the chorus. “I propose the best thing to do is return them to the Abyss, not through the anointing, but by force, and allow Krokan to do with them as he pleases. They no doubt subverted him, treacherous little wretches.”
Is Ventris honestly suggesting what I think he is? Byforce? Does he mean to try to kill me again? I dismiss the idea of arguing over the possibility. It’s not even worth entertaining when there are more important matters. And if I spend more than a second thinking about how Ventris is suggesting that they kill Ilryth, then I really will lose every last scrap of my self-control.
