Chapter 30 #2
I couldn't remember a time when Sindri or I had ever climbed a tree for fun, even as youngsters. Sirens were taught to climb them to escape dangerous predators, and sometimes people. My eyes were fixed on Njall and his toned body. His joy was foreign to me, yet endearing. As he reached a high branch, I couldn’t help but wonder—what exactly was he?
Not fully human, certainly, given his family’s mixed heritage.
And certainly not anything in the water, since he didn't swim. But what?
“There’s good news and bad news,” he jubilantly called from the top of the tree, pulling me back to our world.
“Start with the good news.” I slipped off my mule and led both horses to the base of the tree.
“I know where we are and where we need to go.”
“And the bad news?”
“We have been going the wrong way … all day.”
I groaned loudly. Two more days, plus however long it would take us to get to Eldenwood. By the time we'd get there, I would be at least three weeks into my cycle. I was cutting it far closer than I liked. “Do you see any other clearings?” I asked.
“I can’t tell. It’s just treetops up here.”
“How far is the sun?” Please don’t be setting.
“It’s well into the afternoon. It’ll be setting soon. We should probably camp here tonight.”
“Ferflucs.”
“Did you say something?” Njall was already most of the way down the tree.
“Nothing important,” I muttered, though he’d heard me.
“We’ll find your brothers.” Njall leaped off down, from a bit higher than was needed, and landed beside me.
After he wiped his hands on his pants, he grabbed Acorn and tied him to the lowest branch.
I followed, silently hoping he was right.
Sindri had a knack for getting into trouble.
Leifur had a solid head on his shoulders, but it was usually me who got Sindri out of trouble.
As we set up camp, it hit me just how much stuff we’d left behind when we fled from the Huestur guards. We'd replaced some items from the cabin, but the tent was still gone. “Did you see any bad weather up there?”
“Nothing but clear skies.”
I nodded and unloaded the horses. The sun had started to go down, and we'd need to hurry to get a fire going. Njall must have felt the same because he pointed at a flat spot I’d been eyeing for a fire pit and told me to build it up while he got the wood.
It seemed our time alone in the cabin helped us figure each other out, because we got a fire going and set up the sleeping area even faster than I would have with my brothers, and with fewer complaints.
“Do you want to take the first watch or the second?” I asked once it had become completely dark, and we were settled beside the fire.
“Second.”
I nodded and glanced around at the surrounding woods.
With only the fire to illuminate them, their shadows cast terrifying images into the forest. Every swaying of a branch looked like a monster coming to get us both.
I shook my head, trying to cast out those thoughts.
If I was already nervous in these woods, I could only imagine what my brothers were feeling.
“Have you ever slept outdoors?” I asked.
“What?” Njall stopped poking the fire with his stick and turned to me.
“It’s a question. You answer it.”
“I understand that, but why did you even ask it?”
I wanted to smack him. Did he always need to answer a question with another question? Truthfully, I was feeling nervous and wanted a distraction, but would not tell him that.
“Forget it.” I pushed myself off the ground to go grab more wood for the fire.
“We used to camp often.”
I stopped and waited to see if he’d say more.
“My brothers and I, that is. When we got to be too much for our father, he’d send us out with his men on some excursion. We’d travel and live just like the knights. A few times, we were gone for weeks.”
I handed him the wood, then dropped down beside him, closer than before. “How old were you?”
“Around ten.”
“That’s barbaric!”
“How old were you when you started traveling outside of the Siren Lands?”
“Eighteen. Sirens treasure their children. We just don’t raise them ourselves. They’re raised together in one home so that we see each other as sisters and family.”
“And the boys?”
I glanced over at him, and he was watching me intently, clearly very interested in the subject. My kind liked our privacy, and few ever learned of how we did things. “The boys, too. We just have so few boys that we don’t think to mention them with our sisters.”
“How many is few?”
“Very few,” I replied, recalling my lessons. “Only about one in twenty siren pregnancies result in boys, and of those, less than half take after the mother. Most boys end up as whatever species their father is.”
“I see. So what happens to them? Those non-sirens born to sirens? Present party excluded, of course.”
I hesitated, unsure what he was getting at. “When a boy is born who takes after the father, we have a siren or two responsible for bringing those children back to their father’s kind.”
“So you don’t eat them?”
“Eat them?” I shouted the words without meaning to. “Why would we eat them?”
“That’s what I was taught.”
“That we practice infanticide?”
“No ... that you’re monsters.”
And there was the truth. It didn’t matter how much my brothers and I did to show we cared, and to show we were better than our sisters. To him, to everyone else, we would always be monsters.
Njall’s face had gone pale, and he stared at me for a long moment before clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean that you’re a monster—”
“Of course not. Just my kind.” I stood and brushed my pants off.
“Elva—”
“It’s fine. We need wood, and you wanted to take the second watch. So I’ll go, then you can sleep.”