Niklas cleared his throat. He pointed to the human-fish, “Siren.” Then shifted his finger to the spotted seal, “Selkie,” and then, to the dragons, “Water dragons. I do find it odd that your mother never displayed any works of finfolk, though she may have done that for good luck. Surely, of all the beasts out there, finfolk are the most dangerous to tempt.”
Asta silently nodded as she continued caressing the fabric on the wall. When she gripped the edge, she noticed that the tapestry was also embroidered on the opposite side. Where there should be rough material, her fingertips met soft threads.Tapestries were hardly ever double-sided. There was no point in putting so much work into a side that would never be seen. Knowing this made Asta all the more curious. She flipped the corner up and found that there was a neatly depicted scene facing the stone wall.
“Help me turn this,” Asta called to Niklas. “There’s something on the back!”
Niklas’s brows furrowed but he grabbed the opposite end and helped Asta turn the tapestry around, the rope holding it up creaking as it stretched and twisted. They coughed as dust engulfed the air, but once it settled, Niklas and Asta stood frozen while they took in the new portrait. The kelpie from the front was mirrored on the back, but there were additional images. A child was being dragged behind the kelpie, their hand seemingly adhered to the kelpie’s flank. The emerald, horselike beast had sharp teeth and glowing red eyes, its white mane knotted and unkempt. Floating in the water surrounding the kelpie were bodies, facedown—all of small stature and presumably children.
Asta covered her mouth, “Gods.” She took a step back and peered around the room at the other tapestries.
As though reading her mind, Niklas walked to the next one where she met him and they turned the fabric together. One-by-one, they revealed the horrors on the reverse sides of the fabric. A human man dragged the selkie back to shore by its tail. The water dragon held a finned humanoid in its mouth, its body bloody and mangled. The siren held a man’s hand, his face blue, as he was dragged down into the seafloor. However, in its other hand, the siren held what looked to be a golden pitchfork.
“What do you think that is?” Asta pointed to the pitchfork. She didn’t need explanation for the rest of the portraits. It was glaringly obvious that the artist’s intent was to emphasize despair.
Niklas pressed a finger to his chin and stared silently for some time. “I think your mother was one of the few to actually procure a rendering of the Lost Trident.”
Asta expected to hear admiration and curiosity in his tone, but she only heard concern. Was it odd that her mother had collected these double-sided tapestries? Certainly. But at the end of the day, it was all folklore and nothing more. Right?
“I was actually hoping the siren portrait would contain evidence of—” Niklas shook his head. “Nevermind.”
Asta rolled her eyes. “Well, now youhaveto tell me, Nik.”
Niklas sighed. “I just thought maybe there would be evidence of the comb and mirror. They’re only written about a handful of times, usually in side-margins or random scraps of parchment tucked between pages of tomes.”
“And what is the significance of a comb and mirror?” Asta asked. It seemed strange that such inanimate objects could be of great importance.
“Erm, that’s the thing,” Niklas brushed dust from his chest and straightened his tunic. “No one really knows. The comb and mirror are some sort of siren relic, but no scholars could discover the purpose. Like the Lost Trident, no one has seen the comb and mirror for a very long time. Longer than the Lost Trident, actually. Thousands of years. I was hopeful that they would be on this tapestry and I would be the first to gain an inkling of their use.”
Of course Niklas was upset that there was no breakthrough information on the eerie tapestries. Asta understood why his mood was so dampened now.
She took a step back and stared at the tapestries as a whole, the horrors of the sea on full display. Gone were the sweet smiles and vivid colors from the front sides. They had been replaced with gore and teeth and death. But why would her mother keepthese? Especially in her music room where she had created so much joy and beauty.
“Queen Else was deeply involved in folklore research,” Niklas stated. Asta hadn’t realized she’d voiced her question aloud until he answered. “She believed that Salendronean folklore was all very real. I’ve read some of her research journals and she was quite meticulous. She likely enjoyed these tapestries so much because they portray both sides of the lore, the mesmerizing and the cruel. Having them in this room, while she played her music, probably made her feel connected to the sirens since they use song to lure their prey.”
Asta knew that bit of information from the locals. It was common knowledge that sirens and music went hand-in-hand. The song entranced their victims to follow them to the depths of the ocean where the sirens drowned and ate them. A vicious thought came to Asta, only for a second.Kaid’s music pulled me to this room with an unstoppable force.She pushed it away. She would know if Kaid was a siren. He would have eaten someone by now and, more noticeably, a fishtail would be quite difficult to conceal.
Her thought process was, thankfully, cut short as she heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. Gyrial and Tova appeared out of breath in the doorway.
“Oh sweet Knud, you’re safe!” Tova let out an exasperated sigh. “We thought you’d gone missing as well. We searched the entire castle.”
Asta’s eyes narrowed on the pair, “What do you mean, ‘as well?’”
Gyrial’s golden eyes sharpened as his panic dissipated. “Three guards have gone missing. Abandoned their posts and vanished completely. Whatever is preying upon Orntali has infiltrated the castle.”
Chapter 10
“You don’t need to come,” Asta said sternly as Kaid trailed her and Gyrial to the stables. “I have Gyrial.”
“But what if she’s dangerous?” Kaid asked, struggling to keep up with the pair of warriors.
Asta stopped walking and spoke in a deadpan tone, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. “I have Gyrial.”
Kaid knew the major could handle whatever trouble they may encounter, but he still felt uneasy letting just the two of them go.
“You said it yourself. If she sees you, she’ll recognize you,‘Bright Eyes,’” Asta mocked. “So if you insist on coming, stay out of sight and keep an eye on our surroundings.”
Kaid had tried to talk Asta out of it, but she insisted on learning more about the white-eyed courtesan. The second he had told Asta about her, he had regretted his decision. He knew she wouldn’t let it go, but he also knew it would possibly be dangerous to confront the courtesan, so he had gone behind her back and involved Gyrial. Now that he witnessed how the two of them interacted with each other, he was regretting his decision.
The group mounted their horses and took off for the village, cloaks billowing out behind them. When they arrived in town, they pulled their hoods up and Kaid split off, walking down the opposite side of the street. It was particularly windy tonight and he had to keep adjusting his hood while he waited.
