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A good damn night.
That’s all I’d ever been to anyone. Beings either found me intimidating because of my magic or intriguing because of my status. On top of that, I’d pushed many away. I was, rightfully, cautious about allowing anyone too close due to all the moving pieces of our court and private information I was privy to. I didn’t let my guard down.
It had never bothered me to be a good night.
If I were honest, I felt some pride in that.
From Lira, those words felt like a slap that left me breathless, the sting not even settled yet. She could have physically assaulted me, and it would have left less of an impact. But that’s how things were. Perhaps I’d allowed Shaan’s words to falsely comfort me. I’d started to believe that, with time, Lira and I could try to mend things. That was foolish. She was right. We’d achieve this job, figure out what the prophecy meant, then part ways.
That’s what I’d promised her: a fake marriage for her protection to be dissolved when she wished.
I’d keep my word even if it meant sawing out my heart and handing it to her. Even if it made me want to roar and release my shadows until this forest plunged into a darkness it would never recover from.
I swallowed as I ducked under a massive fern and my boots squelched into a puddle as the sea came into view. The idea of a beach usually conjured up images of gently sloping hills of sand, the hum of crashing waves, and a peaceful blue sky. That was the seaside in the northern part of the country, where Shaan took his annual retreat. The same place Lennox had joined him and started this whole chain of events.
That’s not what the sea here in the south was like.
Fog rolled across the water as waves smashed into trees which hunched from the relentless pounding. The sea here was always uneasy and tempestuous like it was as cursed as the ruins that sat on an island amid it.
Orman sliced a few branches away with a blade, revealing a stepping stone that the waves seemed to avoid, like an unseen hand circled it. Beyond, more of the large, flat stones stretched out over the water, creating a trail out through the fog towards a mist-shrouded building in the distance. Luz hopped onto one stone, stood to their full height, and jumped back before giving me a nod. Neia and Elisa untangled from each other and stared out at the dark raging water. Lira’s pale hair whipped around her face as sea foam burst in front of her.
Goddess, she was fucking beautiful.
She was a siren—her origins were from the sea. The siren city was close to here, in fact, just on the other side of the temple. Lira seemed to know nothing about their magic or history. She didn’t even know their esteemed role in fae society. Every court—save the Seelie with their damned foolish fear of magic—employed sirens because their magic compelled not only the mind, but the body. They could heal with their song.
More than a few times, our group had visited the siren city after we’d gotten banged around in a job. There were only a few sirens I trusted enough to allow them access to my mind, but it always amazed me how a note of their music could seal a cut. A complicated song could stitch broken bones back together. If Lira and I were talking, I might bring it up. She deserved to know this. When we returned to the palace, regardless of where our relationship stood, I’d ask her if she was interested, and, if so, enlist a scholar to gather some books for her before she left.
I didn’t understand how her mother never explained anything to her. King Carrington had to know Lira’s mother. Their troupe roamed close to his territory. Her mother had attended the gala, so she had to be connected with the King. There was some aim the King had that I couldn’t figure out yet.
I readjusted my pack straps as Neia thumbed at the step stones and the path they created across the sea. She looked to me for approval, and I nodded.
Neia moved towards the sea then froze.
A humming sound rippled through the air, overpowering the crashing of the waves and bird calls in the jungle. The note was haunting and breathy despite the power of it. Hair rose on my arms.
Our group had faced a lot in the last five years.
Fairies and humans were one thing. Dangerous in some respects. But they were nothing compared to…
“Merfolk,” Luz spat.
“Are they bad?” Lira asked.
Luz scowled as the wind brushed loose strands of their hair back from their face. “Yes. For all the fear humans have of sirens”—they gave her a wry look—“merfolk are just as dangerous but far more malicious.”
Orman had pulled a blade out and cleaned grit out from under his fingernails with it. “They worship the sea.”
Lira’s lips pursed, their thick form glistening in the sunlight and sending a pulse of warmth through me despite the topic. “That makes them bad?”
Neia sighed. “Not in and of itself, but their practice of drowning those who come into their territory as offerings to the sea does.”
Lira’s face paled.
“These old elemental temples,” Luz said, “attract all kind of unsavory wild fae.”
“It’ll be fine.” I swept a hand out to end the conversation and the fear building in the group from it. “If we remain quiet and stay out of the water, they won’t notice us. The voices are far off.”
As if in response, the volume of the singing rose, the notes of half a dozen singers curling together like a braid. At least their songs didn’t contain magic or have the ability to compel like the sirens’ did. I wished Ishir had joined us. Another trained fighter alongside Orman would be useful in this situation.
