Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
The moment Jabir emerged from the shadowed mouth of the cavern, the wind rushed to greet him like an old friend—brisk, cool, and edged with the faint scent of smoke. He barely paused to breathe before he shifted. His dragon surged forward, desperate for the sky.
Bones stretched. Muscles coiled. Wings unfurled with a rush of power. The world dropped away as he leapt into the sky.
What do you think they took? his dragon asked, his voice taut with worry. What make Siren Queen risk war?
I don’t know, Jabir muttered, scanning the ground as his wings carried him in a wide arc over the lake. But we’re going to find out.
Below, the lake glistened with an unnatural calm. The water, moments ago a churning tempest, now lay mirror-smooth, with silent sentinels keeping watch just beneath the surface. The Queen was keeping her word—for now.
His heart twisted at the thought of Jewel somewhere down there, exhausted and trembling from the effort of staying above water to be with him, and risking her mother’s ire to protect him.
She felt small, his dragon murmured. Too light. She weaken faster than she admit.
Guilt coiled cold and heavy in Jabir’s gut. She risked too much for us.
He banked hard, circling wider. The lake’s southern edge came into view. Something caught his eye—a manmade structure nestled between two hills, half-concealed by a thicket of trees. A dam. Stone and timber, weathered but sturdy, holding back the river that once fed the lake.
Jabir narrowed his eyes.
That didn’t belong here.
He angled toward the village, folding his wings tight to his body as he descended in a controlled dive. Wind rushed past his body. His talons skimmed the tops of reeds before he touched down on the dock. His scales vanished mid-stride, his body shifting fluidly back to his human form.
The scent of damp wood, cool lake water, and fear hit him like a wave.
Cory, Jack, and Albacore stood at the far end of the dock. Cory’s face lit up with relief. She ran to him without hesitation, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.
“You saved him,” she breathed. “I didn’t think you’d make it. When they pulled you under, I thought—”
Jack stepped forward, drenched and shaken, but standing. “I don’t know what you did,” he said hoarsely. “But thank you. They were going to drown me.”
“It’s stopped… for now,” Jabir said. “But it won’t last.”
The words hadn’t finished leaving his mouth when a low hum of muttering broke out behind him. He turned.
A cluster of villagers had gathered—mostly women, their faces drawn and wary, their arms folded tight. Their gazes flicked between the water and Jabir like they weren’t sure which posed the greater threat.
“We should send the men away again,” one woman announced. “Before it starts up. We should’ve kept them away like before.”
“Take up arms,” another said. “End it. Destroy them. Drive them out once and for all.”
“No.” Jabir’s voice rang out like steel striking stone.
The crowd quieted, startled.
“They have as much right to this lake—no, more—than anyone here. They were here first. And they believe you have stolen something precious to them.”
The women scoffed. One crossed her arms. “They’re lying! You’re just a boy. You’re not even from this world. What do you know?”
Jabir straightened to his full height, his spine rigid with fury and purpose.
“I am Prince Jabir Reykill of Valdier. And whether I come from this world or another, I am a protector. That means I speak for those who cannot, and I stand where others back away.”
The hush that followed was palpable.
It was Albacore, the elderly Minotaur, who broke it.
“Technically,” he said with a clearing of his throat, “what the boy… Prince Jabir… said was true. The sirens were here first.”
Jabir turned to him, his eyes expectant.
Albacore shifted uncomfortably, rubbing at the back of his neck. “When we first settled here, the sirens weren’t hostile. The lake… it was full of life. Fish, eels, shellfish, edible kelp. Enough for everyone.”
He paused, glancing at the villagers. No one interrupted him, though several stiffened.
“We took too much,” Albacore continued, his voice quiet. “Over-harvested. Pushed too far in—especially during their mating season. We even tried to take over the island—which was their home. That’s when they fought back. Then came the flood.”
“The flood?” Jabir asked, frowning.
Albacore nodded. “Spring runoff from the mountain snows replenish the lake, making the soil fertile. But when the village grew, we built too close to the edge, and when the floodwaters rose one spring, part of the village was swept away. A lot of villagers died.”
He swallowed hard. “We blamed the sirens. Claimed they caused it. Used it as a reason to wage war against them.”
A heavy silence settled over the dock.
Jabir’s voice was low, but sharp. “Did they?”
“No,” Albacore admitted. “But we needed someone to blame. And the sirens… well, they were angry. Hurt. They tried to fight for their home, but we were more organized. We built the dam—cut off the river that fed the lake. Forced the sirens to stay on their side of the lake.”
Jabir’s dragon stirred uneasily inside him.
“You cut them off from something else, didn’t you?” he said. “Something vital.”
Albacore looked away. “Their males. They were foraging farther south when the dam was built. The female sirens can shift. Take on legs. Walk among us if they want to, but only for a short time. They grow very weak above the water. The males don’t have the same ability.
They’re bound to the water. When we cut off the river, we didn’t just divide the lake—we divided them.
Husbands from wives. Fathers from children.
We told ourselves it was for the best. Eventually, the females would die off, and there wouldn’t be any more sirens in the lake.
When the queen rose in rebellion, we threatened her mate—and the mates of the others.
We demanded no more drownings, no more missing men.
We made a deal—split the lake, keep to our side, they keep to theirs and we wouldn’t hurt their mates. ”
The words struck Jabir like a blade to the chest. “But you separated families,” he said, the words falling like stones. “The Queen said something was taken. Something precious. You took their loved ones.”
A deep shame crept into Albacore’s face.
Jack grimly looked between them. “I have argued with the elders long enough. This should have been rectified long ago.”
Albacore sighed heavily and looked out at the still lake, the glassy water hiding an ocean of pain beneath its surface.
A stunned silence clung to the dock like fog after Albacore’s confession.
The air was thick with unspoken guilt, and the lake’s surface—too calm—seemed to watch them all with judgment.
“It was them or us… or so we told ourselves at the time. And it’s been so long now.”
Jabir stared at Albacore, his fists clenched at his sides. Anger swelled in his chest, slow and hot, like magma just beneath the skin. He turned toward the gathered villagers, his gaze sharp and unrelenting.
“It only serves them right,” someone muttered. “They were dangerous. They lured our men to their deaths.”
“Maybe they deserved to be driven away!” another added.
A low growl rumbled in Jabir’s throat. He stepped forward, his shadow stretching long in the torchlight. He stopped in front of a broad-shouldered Minotaur woman with twisted horns and defiant eyes.
“Do you have a husband?” he asked quietly.
She blinked, surprised. “Yes. He’s a blacksmith.”
“What would you feel,” Jabir asked, stepping closer, “if he were taken from you—separated by force? What if you couldn’t see him, but you could feel him, but never reach him again? What if your children asked where he was—and you had no answer?”
Her nostrils flared. She looked away.
He turned to a towering woman with pale blue skin and silver hair braided with beads. “Audrey, right? Your husband’s off trading with the wood sprites.”
She nodded slowly.
“What if he didn’t come back?” Jabir asked. “What if he tried—but something, someone, made sure he couldn’t? How long before you’d break from missing him?”
Audrey’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. Her arms tightened around herself.
Jabir’s voice cracked with emotion. “The sirens are people. Like me. Like you. They love. They grieve. And they’ve been grieving for years.”
He drew a slow breath to steady the tremor in his voice.
“I miss my parents,” he said softly. “My friends. I can’t tell you how much I miss them. But if I was told I’d never see them again? That would tear me apart.”
He looked each of them in the eye, one by one. “A Valdier warrior is bonded to his symbiot. His dragon. And—if the Goddess blesses him—his mate. To be separated from her… is a death sentence.”
His voice dropped. “Put yourself in their position. Ask yourself: what would you do to save the one you loved? I have found friendship and love with a siren. Would you deny me the chance to embrace that?”
A gasp rippled through the crowd.
“I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t plan it. I just want to protect her and make her happy.” His eyes glinted with steel. “How can you deny the sirens the same joy you experience every day? The same right to love?”
“You are too young to know what love truly is,” one woman scoffed.
Cory growled a low, menacing snarl and wound her arm through Jack’s.
“I knew Jack was my mate the first time he helped me out of a tree,” she said with a fierce, determined expression. “I was just a cub. My wings could barely lift me off the ground. But he saw me. He didn’t laugh. He helped me down, and I knew in that instant that we were destined to be together.”
Jack let out a pleased rumble and nuzzled her neck. “I couldn’t imagine knowing Cory was close but never being able to see her—to touch her and hear her laugh.” His paw curled protectively around her waist. “That would be worse than death.”
For a moment, no one spoke.