“I just want to check these out!” she calls back, running toward the towering rocks.
“Delphia, steward and Princess of Summer, daughter of Sabine, Ovidius, and Cenarius, sister to Damocles, Decimus, and Daytonales, get your behindbackhere this instant or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” she calls. “Send me to my room?” She cackles before turning and running toward the rocks.
A growl rumbles in my throat, and I shoot a glance down at the smirking Eleanor. “Don’t laugh at that.”
I take off, doubling my pace to try and catch her, while Eleanor sighs and keeps stride beside me, moaning, “Ihaterunning.”
Well, I hate sweating my skin off in this barren wasteland while being pack mule to two defiant, ungrateful little girls, I think, butsave my breath for running. For the thousandth time today, I wonder why I agreed to do this.
For Dayton. For Farron. For the Summer Realm.
For fuck’s sake!
Delphia has reached the rocks and started climbing up one of them. I heave in a breath and move faster.
Shadows drench Eleanor and me as we reach the towering formations.
“Get down,” I growl to Delphia, who’s hanging a few feet above my head.
She glares at me. “Shush.”
“I swear on the seven realms, if you don’t get down—”
“Fine!” She jumps down, landing gracefully, only the smallest cloud of dust whiffing up around her boots. “Just be quiet.”
I cross my arms. “Iwantto be quiet, but you’re the one gallivanting across the desert, without a single thought—”
“No!” She puts a finger to her lips and whispers, “Be quiet and listen.”
Immediately, the hairs on the back of my neck rise. There shouldn’t be anything to hear except the wind and the shift of sand.
“I hear it,” Eleanor murmurs. “It sounds like … a lullaby. One my mother used to sing.”
Delphia drifts away, pointed ear twitching. “It’s not a lullaby. Listen closely. It’s an old tavern song. My brothers would sing it together all the time.”
I still my breathing and let all the other sounds drift away. Yes, I hear it now. An otherworldly voice from a memory. Each note is filled with a sense of longing and sorrow, yet the melody makes me smile. It’s the song the captured siren sang the night we all descended Below. Last time I heard this song, Rosalina sat upon my lap, her body soft and radiating warmth in such a cold place. If only I could hold her like that again.
If I close my eyes and drift into the song, I can—
I snap back into myself. How are we all hearing music this far out into the desert? It’s not possible.
Unless …
A myth about monsters in the Ribs comes rushing back to me. Suddenly, the song doesn’t sound like the siren’s voice anymore. It’s a hideous, mocking jeer, devoid of tune or melody.
Eleanor’s leaning against the rocks, eyes closed, tears dripping down her face. I snatch her collar and pin her tight against my side, before spinning. “Delphia!”
Delphia’s wandered out into the open sand; a huge smile spread on her face. Like Eleanor, her eyes are closed, and tears paint her cheeks. “Sing it again, Dammy,” she calls. “Once more!”
“Delphia!” I roar and lunge for her.
But the harpy is faster.
Great black wings streak out of the sky. Hooked talons sink into Delphia’s shoulders.
The song disappears, replaced by Delphia’s scream.
