Page 9 of A Siren of Beasts

“There now, rest, you need to keep drinking water and let your body heal. It’s up to you and how stubborn you be if you make it through or not,” she told me with a pat on my shoulder and the sound of her footsteps told me she’d left.

I decided not to fight the overwhelming need to fade into the darkness of sleep. It was less painful in the darkness where I didn’t hear Finn’s screams or the sound of Barnaby’s neck snapping. No, the darkness was a much better option right now.

There was no way to tell how long it had been since the storm. Everything came in snippets of conversation or awareness of someone helping me eat or drink something before slipping back into the darkness. It was warm and comforting there but every time I considered staying in the dark I heard a voice telling me I needed to survive.

The voice was unlike anything I’d heard before. It sounded ancient, wise, and drew me like a moth to a flame. Something about that person who saved me and brought me here had sparked something inside me. The closest thing I could relate it to was how I felt when singing. That sense of rightness that hummed under my skin like it ran through my veins.

When I awoke the next time breathing was easier, still with some discomfort but I could take a much deeper breath than before. My body was stiff but the bone deep aches were gone and I even managed to fully open my eyes to see where the hell I’d been lying. I turned my head to the side, away from the warmth of the sun I’d felt on my cheek, knowing that would hurt my eyes on a good day. Feeling the cool shadow caress my skin, I opened my eyes slowly worried I might find myself in a place worse than what I’d left behind.

It appeared I was in a room, in a place made out of wood. I was in a small bed with a reed mattress that rustled as I moved. The dress I’d been wearing was gone and was replaced with a loose nightgown in a dark blue color. Ever so slowly, I pushed myself up on one arm and grunted at the pain of the tender flesh on my right side. That triggered a memory of debris from the ship catching me as I was tossed around in the water. Already halfway up, I decided to keep going until I was sitting up and eased back to rest on the wall behind me.

The room was tiny, just enough space for the bed and a trunk where I assumed clothes and other personal possessions might be. Had I forced someone out of their room? I mused, feeling a little guilty if that was the case. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the light in the room, I turned to look out the window. From my vantage, I could see more homes with smoke coming out of the chimneys, and a tall fence made out of what looked like massive trees that had been chopped down and carved to have sharp points at the top.

There was green grass and the sky was a clear blue with white puffy clouds. While I was covered with a thick blanket it didn’t feel all that cold and from appearances, it seemed to be an idyllic day. It reminded me a lot of Estya, but Estyans preferred to build their homes out of stone than wood. I watched as a man led a horse with a wagon full of wheat past the window, so it was clear they had soil good enough for planting.

My musing was brought to a halt as the door to the bedroom opened. A woman with her back to me entered, then turned to show her hands were full with a tray of supplies. When she looked up and saw me awake she paused to say something, then met my gaze. Her eyes widened as the tray slipped through her fingers crashing to the floor as she let out an ear piercing scream then bolted out of the room.

Utterly confused, I reached up to touch my face wondering if something had happened to it in the shipwreck. Everything felt normal and gave me no clues as to her reaction. Feeling that I might no longer be welcome here, I yanked back the covers and twisted to slip my feet out of the bed and onto the floor. My body burned at the use of my muscles and begged me not to move so quickly, but I ignored its protests. I’d spent my whole life observing people and learning to read their body language to anticipate needs, and that woman was terrified.

Getting to my feet took far too much effort and on the first try I almost fell off the bed, when my right leg tried to give out on me. The second time I was ready for the fact that I would need to support more weight on my left leg. Up and out of the bed, I took halting steps to where she’d dropped the tray and found water spilled and what looked to be soup now gone to waste. Avoiding the mess, I made my way out the door and into what looked like a communal space with a hearth, table, couch, and cooking area. I heard someone talking loudly in another room but in her panic nothing she said made any sense to me.

“Monster. That woman is a monster.”

“Batima, please, I’ve been looking after her for a week. There is no way she’s a monster, her blood is red just like ours. You know that none of those creatures bleed red,” a male voice argued. “Other than being so pale from losing so much blood she looks just like us.”

“Her eyes, Musa, you didn’t see her eyes. They are the color of evil,” Batima shrieked. “She just sat there looking at me like she wanted to eat me. To trap me in the hold of her gaze, and to think we’ve been looking after her for a week.”

“Woman, you need to get a hold of yourself,” Musa snapped. “How many times have I told you to stop listening to those stories Leila keeps filling your head with? No monsters have existed in Hollowed Forest in a decade, the charms that Tinker put around the village have worked.”

“Fine, you don’t believe me then go out there and look at her yourself. She’s been in a deep sleep the whole time she’s been with us and now suddenly she’s awake. I kept telling you that she should have died with the injuries she had. You looked at them last night, the skin is all but healed,” Batima charged on, unwilling to be dissuaded.

Next to the armchair I spotted a cane leaning against it, like the person had forgotten it when they got up in a hurry. Quietly as I could, I made my way over to it and snatched it up, relieved to see how much it helped. As I headed for what I assumed to be the front door, I spotted a hunk of bread that was left on a cutting board with a pot of bubbling soup. Since I was unable to take the soup with me, I grabbed the bread and shoved it into my mouth and took a bite. It was fresh and delicious, making me almost sigh at how good it tasted.

The sound of footsteps coming back into the common space had me snapping out of my blissful moment to toss back the slide bolting the door closed and yanked it open. A crisp breeze greeted me, making me shiver as it wasn’t as warm as I assumed it would be. Not having the choice of staying where I was there was no option but to move forward, entering the village. The fact that I was barefoot didn’t bother me, I’d hardly worn shoes unless it was required of me, preferring to feel the ground I walked on. Thankfully, the grass was soft and the soil that gave under my feet was well hydrated, making me assume this place got decent rainfall. I’d have to be aware of that, the last thing I needed was to get caught in the rain when it might get colder at night.

Listening to that conversation at least gave me a clue as to what upset the poor woman. While I’d never seen another person with silver eyes like mine, I wouldn’t say it made me a monster. Then again, I’d read many times over the superstitions and beliefs people were willing to believe if something made them uncomfortable. I was a stranger who washed up on their land by some miracle I couldn’t understand. It would have been helpful to talk to someone, find out where I was, and how I came to be here. I wasn’t willing to risk being locked up, killed, or turned into someone’s property ever again though. I’d damn well earned my freedom and I planned to keep it.

“Hey, you,” a man shouted from behind me.

Pausing, I let my hair fall forward as I tilted my head in his direction, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“You’re the woman we found at the gate, what are you doing wandering around without proper clothes?” he questioned.

Through my hair, I could make out this man was around my age and seemed to be a guard. He had a sword on his hip and a spear in his hand, he had his head cocked regarding me.

“Needed fresh air,” I whispered, my voice raspy from being disused.

He seemed to accept that with a nod and stepped up beside me. “Would you like company? People around here aren’t used to strangers showing up in the middle of the night. I wouldn’t want anything to happen after all you’ve been through.”

“That is incredibly kind of you, but I wouldn’t want to take you away from something important,” I responded and gestured to his weapons. “You seem to be on duty.”

“Truly, it’s not a bother. My duty is to protect the people of this village. As for right now, that includes you,” he informed me with a wide grin.

How could this man be flirting with me when he had no idea who I was? Yet this had been my life, almost as if I’d been born to be a whore. My body called to men, and even women on rare occasions, who became desperate to be with me in any way I would let them. Even now in my weakened disheveled state, this man was convinced he wanted to be around me.

“Could you possibly tell me where I am?” I asked. “Our ship was wrecked in a storm and I don’t know how I ended up here.”

His face scrunched up in confusion. “That’s odd, there was no storm strong enough for that to happen a week ago. Are you sure you weren’t attacked by the monsters in Hollowed Forest?”