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Authors: Mary Weber

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BOOK: Siren's Song
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“What?” I blurt out. “We have to get to Faelen. And what about Tulla? Those people are separated from you by a river and a few mountain peaks—they're your neighbors. And they're dying even as we speak.”

“They are not as helpless as you believe, I assure you. They'll have dug underground chambers and will mount—”

“Your Majesty, their king is dead. Taken by Draewulf.”

At least she has the consideration to allow a look of sadness across her face when she turns her eyes on Eogan. “Yes. But they will survive awhile longer. Now, we are not a people of war, but as it seems we currently have little choice, I have defenses to prepare. I thank you for the concern, but I'm not interested.” With that she veers a hard stare at me. “And neither should you be, considering you'll need to hurry if you want to save him.”

Save him?

Save who? What's that supposed to mean? I peer over at Eogan.
Then past him to Lord Myles, who's given up on his cravat and is staring at his arm as if it's itching.

Litches. The poison is working its way in.

Before I can demand further explanation, Queen Laiha turns her gaze on her guards. “Take them. And see if the other airships have landed anywhere. If they have, confiscate them and bring their soldiers in.” She dips her head to the man behind her who promptly grips her chair and wheels her away from us.

“Your Majesty, I ask you to—”

A guard moves in to cut Eogan off, resulting in Kenan's fist suddenly swinging at her. The female Luminescent ducks before he's barely begun, and it's only then it occurs to me that the majority of the guards are women. And a few have remnants of red in their eyes. Another guard thrusts a hand into Kenan's back, then his neck, followed by his side, crippling him almost without moving.

“Kenan, don't,” Eogan murmurs, but my peal of thunder is already ricocheting through the hall. Except I don't even get my hand up before another of the red-eyed guards grabs my wrist and shakes her head. Kenan falls to his knees, frowning in seeming confusion while my eyes widen with clarity.

I recall Rasha talking of the Luminescents in the palace. Of how quiet it is here since most of them have no need for speaking. They just read each other's intentions.

Just like they read Kenan's to throw a punch. Just like they read mine before my own fist went up to bring down more than thunder.

They could see it coming.

CHAPTER 5

A
RE YOU JESTING US?” MYLES YELLS. “WE'RE TRYING
to help you foolsss! Eogan, you're the woman's blasted equal. Tell them!”

“You should be more concerned about what I'm going to tell
you
when I get back,” Eogan rumbles. He flicks me a look, then strides away between four guards, toward where the queen just exited.

“Oh, get off your blasted horse.” Myles yanks his arm free to veer toward me as Lady Isobel slinks ahead with the guards leading us out of the crystal hall. Abruptly he is crowding my face and lowering his voice. “That fool won't listen—fine. But you should. Because I'm telling you, get usss out of here, or
I will
.”

“You lied and used me to get at that power,” I snarl. “So threatening me with it is
far
from in your best interest right now.”

Lady Isobel snorts. “Who cares how he got the power? Do you really want someone as inexperienced as he is to actually try to
use
it?”

I narrow my gaze. “Maybe he'll knock himself out.”

“Listen here, you little—” She turns to glower at me. “That power he absorbed—”

“Won't be effective for a while longer. And if he
does
use it, I will see to it his family heirlooms are damaged. Permanently.”

Myles's appalled curse brings what is clearly an unwilling smile to her face.

“Say what you will,” he says, “but you owe me for freeing Eogan from Draewulf'sss grip, my dear girl.”

Is he being serious? He didn't help. He . . .
Oh.
He doesn't know. He was already knocked out when Draewulf pulled free of Eogan's body. “You didn't help me free him. You nearly had me kill everyone.”

“Funny how quickly you turn to blaming when you were initially the one
begging for it
.”

“Myles, shut up.”

“All I'm saying—”

“All I'm saying is, you will shut up until I can murder you. And if you have to be near me beforehand, then make yourself useful and figure out what the queen wants with Eogan and how to get us out of here.”

His expression sours as he straightens and slicks a hand over his shiny black hair. “How should I know what the woman wantsss? She's as unstable as her daughter. Only a fool would make enemies of us while an entire army is headed for her gatesss.”

“I'd say you're all bleeding fools if you think insulting their queen right now will help our situation,” Kenan growls behind us.

I ignore him and look up at the female guard leading the way. “There was a man on our ship by the name of Lord Wellimton. What happened to him?”

“Anyone putting up a fight was kept bound.”

“And the two boys in the captains' room?”

“I . . . believe they were taken with the others.”

A throaty sound tells me Kenan's listening.

I slow and put my hand on his arm. “If either of those boys is harmed, I will take it more personally than you desire,” I say in a tight tone to the guard.

The woman says nothing. Just turns us down another glass corner to face a long flight of glistening stairs. They give the illusion they're leading up to the night sky due to the clear domed ceiling over us with the stars filtering through. Like little solar flares.

Rasha probably spent her childhood studying those stars from this same spot.

That sudden thought nearly bowls me over.
Bleeding hulls, I miss her.
I blink hard and refuse to imagine where she is right now, what they're doing to her.
Just find a way to escape and rescue her, Nym.

Three flights of those shiny stairs deposit us just beneath that glass dome and at the top of one of the three corner crystal towers I glimpsed before our airship crashed. The short hallway is shaped like a square and empty of people or doors except for an opening at the end. It's a room—the only one up here as far as I can tell—and while not by any means dungeon quality, it carries vague reminders of my slave quarters at owners' numbers seven and nine. Two sparse beds. Three candle lanterns. And a cold floor to be shared by too many of us.

Except it is beyond impeccably clean, and three of the walls are made of see-through glass.

I sway a moment as I enter at the sense of dizziness it brings—being this high up and able to look out on the lit-up crystal city below from multiple angles at once is overwhelming. Only the wall with the door I'm stepping through is made of wood. The rest are peering over the courtyards and lights and outer ramparts and giant-statued gates that lead to the massive forest beyond.

I frown as I steady myself and move closer for a clearer look at the night-shadowed landscape. Is it me or does something seem off about those gates?

Before I can figure out what, Myles's swearing draws me back to the room. A male Cashlin guard and two female Luminescents who've prodded Myles through the doorway have ruffled his suit in the process. They say nothing about his insults—just deposit him in the room's center before they shut the door and then line up against the wall.

“That's it?” Lady Isobel scoffs at the Cashlin male guard and two ladies with us before she slinks down onto one of the cushioned cots. She spreads her voluptuous self out like a fox, so even with her hands still tied behind her back she looks powerful.

I watch the way she sizes up the guard and shake my head. What are they thinking, leaving only three soldiers alone with all of us? Leaving them alone with
her
?

I glance over at the male guard. With a slight build and blond hair, he reminds me of the Faelen schoolchildren I played with my eighth year, albeit with a far less innocent glint in his eye. He's about nineteen, I'd guess, and he's smirking back at Isobel.

“Oh-good-father-of-Bron, this confinement better not take long,” Kenan mutters beside me.

“How about removing these binders?” Lady Isobel holds out her wrists to the male guard and slides a smile across her face that I suspect is the same one she used to seduce Eogan when they were younger.

My stomach sours. She and Eogan may be the same age and same height and have been raised near-inseparably for years, but that's where the similarities end.

The guard switches to a charming smile of his own but doesn't move.

“Humph. I see where your Princess Rasha gets her manners,” Isobel says.

The besotted one glances at the Luminescent nearest me. I catch a cautious look between them.

“Do you know her?” I ask them casually. “Princess Rasha? You're all about her age, I suspect.”

The male guard shoots another look at his Luminescent counterpart before he turns to say firmly, “The princess is a friend to all her people.”

Liar.
She had few friends, as I recall. I stare straight at him. But maybe he could've been one of them. I wonder . . .

The Luminescent close by ruffles her purple flowing robe and clears her throat. When I turn to look, she's glaring at me.
Interesting.
I scan the ceiling with its clear glass surface, then peer out the window again at the gates below.

“She believed in this cause,” I say.

“Except I seem to recall her suggesting her dear queen mum wanted Draewulf alive as much as I did.” Myles's voice snakes over from where he's plopped himself down on the other bed opposite Isobel. He prances his long fingers across the cover. “Which isss rather odd when you think about it. Now, why would Queen Laiha want the shape-shifter alive, do you suppose? And be willing to possibly sacrifice her own daughter now?”

The guard's face shadows, and I swear it's like a red filter snaps down over the Luminescents' pupils. One makes a clicking noise with her tongue while their male counterpart refuses to answer.

I glare at Myles.
Thanks a lot.

He shrugs and smiles acidly as if to say it's true.

“Nice try, Elemental, but he wouldn't have given you any information anyway.” Lady Isobel rolls over on her bed. She yawns and scans their Luminescent faces before flipping her raven-black hair away from her high cheekbones. “The people of this culture are
not encouraged to think for themselves. No wonder their princess wanted out.”

“You should not say such things,” the male guard says. But the tightening of his jaw indicates Lady Isobel's words struck something. I turn to Eogan's former fiancée and catch her watching me. She tips her head and simpers cleverly, “They study intentions. I study emotions.”

“So you'll know which one to hit first when you turn his heart to stone,” Myles says.

Except I can't tell whether he's insulting or admiring her. Or trying to get a rise out of the guards. My guess is the latter two.

I turn back to the male Cashlin. “All I'm saying is Rasha and a whole lot of people could use our help right now. Especially if your queen dies.”

The guard ignores me, and the second Luminescent speaks for the first time. “Are any of you in here the airship's captains?”

What?

Myles snorts and peers away.

“They did not survive,” Kenan says quickly, not looking at any of us. His gaze flickers down, and instantly the Luminescent's eyes flash red. I've been around Rasha long enough to know that in that one movement of Kenan's gaze dropping, the Luminescent saw what she needed.

None of us are the captains.

Kenan's son is.

“We will inform the Inters.”

“The Inters?” Myles sits up. “Now that'sss interesting.”

“Who are they?” Kenan demands.

Myles hardly even looks at him, just turns to stare strangely at the gates. I follow his eyes to the large lantern-lit crystal sides
topped with the two enormous carved statues. Does he see what's off about them? I scan the whole section briefly and frown again because I still can't place my finger on it. I go back to listening for what in hulls Inters are.

“Questioners. Seekersss. The Cashlin version of an interrogator, I believe.”

The female Luminescents move to the door and, after saying something to the male guard, stride out. He follows to shut it behind them before turning to face Kenan's large body that is suddenly lunging for him with a bellow. The guard holds out a slender wrist and slaps Kenan on the side of the neck, and the giant man slumps to the floor.

The Cashlin then flips around and slips toward the bed Lady Isobel's on. She barely has time to sit up before he touches her. Lady Isobel's smile stays frozen in place as her body goes limp on the bed.

What the—?

The guard turns and presses the same wrist onto Myles's neck, causing him to drop from his half-risen state.

His movements are graceful. Delicate and quick. Like a dancer.

An evil dancer.

I lurch backward just as he comes for me too, jumping away toward the far glass wall.

He slides a foot toward me and lifts his hand. “Oh, come now, it won't be that bad.”

“What'd you do to them?”

“Just keeping all of you from being any more disruptive.”

He dances closer.

Too close. I kick him in the family jewels, yank down a weak bolt of lightning over the glass in warning, and flip toward the wall by the door. “Is that how you people keep the peace? Drugging? Killing?”

His hand pauses in midair.

“Do you like to use it on Rasha as well?” I say, my breath coming fast.

“We would never . . .” His face goes blank before it crinkles into a frown. “How well did you know the princess?”

BOOK: Siren's Song
2.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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