Page 5 of The Song of the Void

Obviously I was desperate, you bastard!

The moment he came close enough, I growled and threw the pillow at his face, diving for his stomach with the tip of my blade. Nameless Asshole seized the pillow and used it to block my stab. White feathers fluttered from the gash as he flung the pillow away, snatching my wrist in a tight leather grip. My arm trembled in our struggle, but he remained solid.

His eyes flashed, and he shoved me back onto the bed, ripping the knife from my hand. “Your message asked for help, and here I am.”

“I didn’t ask for you!”

“I didn’t ask for you, either.” He studied my face, then down my body, making me squirm. My blue skin and navy hair earned me plenty of stares when I was on display, but something was off in his gaze. Like he was observing something he despised, wrapped in a glittering bow just for him. “Never seen a Siren before. No tail…No fins…You almost look like a Human. I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to be so…blue.”

“Are you disappointed I have legs because it means I can run from you?”

Smoked spices lingered on his breath as he blew a stray feather out of his hair. “Look, Blue⁠—”

Blue? No way in Mourner Hell he’s giving me a nickname that stupid.

“Stop being a vicious brat and put some dry clothes on so we can get out of here before the Druinn shows up again. No doubt he left to figure out some more covert way of stealing you.”

Nameless Asshole whirled away, tucking my knife into his belt as he sized up the walnut wardrobe pushed against the wall. He found the clothing I had stashed inside it and tossed them at me before sliding the wardrobe across the floor with a scrape. Once it obstructed the door, he casually leaned back against it to further block me in.

“Get changed. And don’t worry, I’m not interested in looking at your perfectly average tits.” He rolled his eyes and touched a small gold loop in his earlobe. “I’ve got her.” His coal-black gaze didn’t focus on me. Instead, it homed in on a point somewhere on the far wall.

Against my better judgment, I wriggled out of my sopping dress. The lace-detailed corset top I pulled on was as close to Siren fashion as I could get on the surface, cropped at my ribs and snug against my skin. Meanwhile, the flowing skirt Ipheri had given me had a long slit cut into the gauzy fabric to reveal one of my legs up to my thigh—definitely not hydrodynamic. I traded my heels for a pair of short boots, watching him all the while. At least now I could run faster if I had the opportunity to escape him. Since he was still occupied with talking to someone, I hurried to the vanity beside the window and gathered my bedraggled hair into a high ponytail.

“Fucking Human,” I muttered. In my reflection, the golden choker around my neck almost seemed dull. I halfheartedly tugged at it, but with no clasp, it was impossible to break off. Just what was Shaddan trying to do with it? Druinns had the ability to imbue enchantments into objects made of metal, but there was simply no way to know what kind of magic the choker might hold.

Laughter and chatter bubbled up through the floorboards from the party in the ballroom below. Outside the nearby window, a few footmen brought carriages to the front of the mansion to escort the more elderly guests home before the banquet undoubtedly grew rowdier as the moon rose higher in the sky. I considered trying to shove the window open to jump out and make a run for it, but I’d probably break at least one ankle doing so.

Nameless Asshole grimaced and pushed some hair off his forehead, sighing in exasperation. “Look, I don’t know what he was trying to do, but I interrupted it. I think it’s fine.” A pause, and his grimace deepened into a scowl. He cast a glance down at the back of his wrist, though the glowing shackle had long disappeared. “Just dig out your research on Druinnic enchantments.”

“Is that your employer?” I called. “Tell him I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He blinked, but didn’t look at me. “I’ve been a perfect gentleman, but she’s being difficult.”

“Perfect gentleman,” my ass.

A massive explosion wracked the manor, showering us with bits of dust and rubble from the ceiling. The walls trembled and went still before another boom of power pounded through the building somewhere below us. I leaned against the vanity to keep standing as the floor shuddered. Human laughter morphed into screams of terror.

The stranger whirled, drawing my knife only to glare at it. “Damn it, how am I supposed to fight Druinns with this?” After a moment of consideration, he dropped it, kicking it to skitter far beneath the bed.

Someone pounded on the door.

Nameless Asshole ignored whoever was trying to get into the room, instead choosing to kick at one of the tall oaken posts at the foot of the bed frame. He snapped it free and brandished it as if it were a club.

Wood splintered and sundered as the door and wardrobe shattered into pieces. A hand ax, a dagger, and a short sword flew inside the bedroom and levitated in the air, controlled by three figures wearing masks and cowls that stepped inside.

Nameless Asshole spun his makeshift club in his hand, barking at me, “The window. Now!”

I clutched the edge of the vanity, too dumbfounded to move as the three figures raised their hands toward him, and their weapons obeyed silent orders.

He jumped out of the way of the dagger and the ax, but had to swing his makeshift cudgel to block the short sword. With it embedded in his weapon, one of the Druinns growled, apparently having a difficult time controlling it, so Nameless Asshole struck.

He sprinted across the room to that figure and, rather than beating them over the head, seized the front of their hood. He yanked them to his other side, holding them in place with his club across their chest. The ax and dagger had recovered and flew at him with such speed, there was no regard for who might be in-between. They struck the hooded figure Nameless Asshole held as a shield, and the figure crumpled to the ground with a moan and a splatter of blood across the floorboards.

The splash of red jerked me to my senses. As Nameless Asshole lunged for the next hooded figure with his club, I bolted for the window like he told me to. Screw following his orders, but the window was almost certainly my only way of escape, what with the flashing, floating weapons blocking the splintered remains of the door. Broken ankles be damned. I’d just have to pick my favorite one and try to land harder on the other. I shoved against the window with all my meager strength. It didn’t move, but what I saw outside made me freeze.

Smoke. It billowed up from the rest of the manor and choked the dry nighttime air. I could just see through the thick gray cloud enough to make out the shapes of running, screaming banquet guests. Flames licked away at the once ornate door of the grand entrance that now lay half off its hinges, and inside it, an inferno blazed orange. Guards shouted orders to direct the fleeing civilians, and some hurled buckets of water at the fire. The progress they made was laughable against the hungry blaze. Gunshots rang out. A band of ruffians sheltering behind a toppled carriage fired their flintlock pistols at the guards and civilians.

What happened?