Chapter 27
CHAPTER
27
I tried to sleep, I really did, but tossing and turning while wide awake was all I had accomplished in the last hour. I’d given up on trying to rest because I was too riled up from the events of the day. I decided I’d blow off some steam with the Vesper and made my way down the winding hallway.
Lazily I picked the first door, a different room than I normally went to. It made no difference because a Vesper was a Vesper, no need to be particular. That irritating buzz was back again. Coursing through me like a low hum, making my skin prickle and itch.
I sat on the cot and stared at the glow of the Vesper, welcoming the familiarity of the soft amber light. I let out a deep exhale, trying to rid myself of one of the heaviest days since my arrival. My mind was a mess, and deciding the best way to clear it was the issue. I couldn’t reconcile if I just wanted to fight someone, inflict a little pain, or have some pain inflicted on me. Perhaps I’d just let some pretend version of Nori hug me till I cried myself to sleep.
After several minutes, I heard the noise of a faint conversation coming from the room next to mine. I couldn’t make out the words, but there was a male voice. I stood up and scanned the wall with my eyes, looking for signs of where the sound might be coming from. On the far-left side of the room, there was a small crack in the stones, leaving a tiny hole. If I held my eye up to it, I could see a hint of the chamber on the other side.
I knew it was wrong, and I should have probably gone back to minding my own business, but once it was clear that Varro was on the other side, curiosity got the best of me.
From what I could see, he was on his knees shaking his head in what appeared to be desperation. Sitting on the small cot before him was a beautiful girl. She was as bright as a pearl in sunshine, with long white curls sweeping past both sides of her youthful face. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. It seemed like he was arguing with her, but not aggressively; more like he was dismissing her advice.
He then leaned over and placed his head in her lap, giving her access to run her fingers through his hair. She then began to hum a tune, soothing him with her song. I started to feel like I’d been intruding on something very private. But who was she?
When I heard the hum of the song slow to an end, I moved my head and held my ear against the hole, trying to make out any of the conversation. “I will never be given a fair chance,” he was pleading quietly. “It hurts in my ribs; my heart feels caged. I feel it in the marrow of my being.”
I muffled my gasp, pulling my ear away from the cold stone wall, fearful of having spied on something too intimate to witness. Whoever it was, she had a hold on Varro. It was clear from the way he clung to her.
I occupied myself with the Vesper, doing some light sparring that allowed me to sweat off all the built-up tension. I tried my best to put it far from my mind, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Varro and the other female.
When I heard the door close, I deduced he had finally made his exit. I peeked out of my door and noticed he was heading to the baths rather than his room. I reasoned that after all the sweating I’d done, I needed a quick dip. I sent the Vesper back to its original form and waited just a bit longer so he didn’t notice me following behind him.
I knew he’d be in his favorite pool, which made locating him easy. When I entered the steamy room, he paid me no attention. He didn’t even turn to acknowledge me. Varro just stood there with his back turned to me, making his way farther into the cavernous pool.
I hadn’t realized it till I was waist-deep, but after what he’d done to me earlier, I was feeling a bit nervous in the water. It was shallow, nearly impossible for me to drown, but the eerie memory of that feeling was now ever present.
I sat down on a stone bench under the inlet, something that was becoming a familiar routine for Varro and me anytime we were both here. He sat across from me, stretching his muscles in the milky water.
“How’d you do it?” I demanded.
“How’d I do what?” he asked, playing coy.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. How did you make me feel like I was drowning?”
Varro slowly moved toward me, and I was unsure why he needed to approach me to answer the question. I shrank back in my seat.
From below the waters, Varro suddenly grabbed my foot and refused to let go.
“You’re so tightly wound. You need to relax.”
“Tell me…” I fumed, trying to tug my foot away.
“I’ll tell you if you just relax,” he demanded as he began to slowly knead his fist into the bottom of my aching foot.
Gods, that felt good. I eyed him suspiciously, but he was rendering me defenseless with each squeeze and tug along the arch of my foot and up my toes.
“How did you do it,” I gritted out, sounding far less relaxed than I was becoming.
“It’s like mesmerization. We call it ‘Siren Song.’ Instead of mesmerizing you to take action, it controls how you feel. I made you feel like you were drowning, even though you were perfectly safe.”
He said it so matter of fact, like I shouldn’t be shocked by any of it.
“How come I’ve never heard of that ability? Saryn has never mentioned it.”
Varro lowered my foot and released his grip. It had felt so good, the second he let go I longed for it again, but then he grabbed the other foot and proceeded with the same movements on the remaining leg.
“Because it’s not an ability. It’s a gift.”
“Like Nori and dreamwalking?” I prodded.
“No, that’s an ability, albeit a rare one. Siren Song is a gift, and you have to earn it.”
I was excited to understand this unique thing Varro was capable of.
“How do you earn it?” I prodded.
“When I was young, I participated in the same troublemaking that all youth get into. There is lore among my people that if you’re brave enough to swim to the darkest depths of the sea and kiss a siren, then they will bestow the gift upon you for your bravery.”
“But you can breathe underwater, how hard could that have been?” I exclaimed, pointing to the gills behind his ear.
“Ever the astute one.” He smiled. It brought him joy to know I had noticed.
“To find a siren, you have to swim very deep, much farther than most Sea Fae ever need to go. You landlocked Fae can’t even begin to understand the horrors that reside down there from what you read in your texts. Why would you? You’re long dead before you could witness the world at those depths.”
My eyes widened with fear—intrigue.
“But I was determined to get that kiss.”
I tried to picture a young Varro arguing with his mates on the edge of a ship. Each daring the other to leap.
He rolled his thumb down the curve of my foot, and I swear I almost let out a moan.
“So, you swam to the deep blue to impress your friends, fended off a few monsters, locked lips with a siren, and now you have this gift and you used it to make me feel like I was drowning. What else can it do? Do you have to sing for it to work?”
I refused to drop the subject till he fully explained it to me.
He let out an amused laugh and when I tried to pull my foot away again, he refused to let it go.
“No, Cress, you do not have to sing for it to work. You can pretty much make someone feel anything, but once you stop, the effects wear off. They aren’t long-lasting.”
“If you don’t have to sing, why is it called ‘Siren Song’?” I pried.
“Because the sirens lure sailors to the bottom of the sea with their song, making them think they can breathe, that nothing is wrong when they’re drowning them slowly, toying with them till the song turns to silence.”
I knew the lore about singing sirens, their haunting songs, and the traps they set for sailors, but it hadn’t made sense till now. The stories from my childhood just became that much scarier knowing they were somewhat rooted in truth. No wonder my father had tried to scare Versa and me from going in the water. I wonder if he knew the secret the Sea Fae had been keeping about those vicious creatures.
Varro continued to massage my foot, occasionally moving his strong hands along my calf, distracting me.
“With the gift, I can make you feel calm.” Suddenly I felt more relaxed than I could ever remember. “Or I can make you feel sleepy.” An inexplicable yawn escaped my mouth, and my eyelids felt heavy. “I could make you feel sick.” And nausea overcame me.
“Stop, stop,” I yelled, throwing my arms up in exasperation. “Couldn’t you have picked something nice for a demonstration?”
Varro smiled, releasing my foot. “Like what? Love? Lust?”
He raised a playful eyebrow at me, and I couldn’t believe I was entertaining jokes with the same person I would have strangled earlier. Varro was disarming like that. Or charming. I wasn’t entirely sure yet.
“Just one more unique person with some special ability I have to contend with,” I drawled.
It was the most pitiful thing to say, but it felt true. Every time someone excelled, I felt further behind.
“You don’t have to contend with anything, Cress, we’re a team. Everything we have in our arsenal helps all of us survive.”
He wasn’t wrong, but this place was less encouraging. Theory and Saryn rarely praised or complimented us. When they did, it always had a hint of disdain. You were never sure if they meant any of it, and their expectations seemed unachievable. It was a never-ending battle to not doubt myself at every turn.
It was a stark contrast to being in the academy back home. There I had been good at everything and professors weren’t shy about letting me know. My family was proud of my accomplishments and humbly bragged frequently. I knew it was juvenile to expect anything like that, but there were times I just needed to hear it.
“I believe you’re going to be the one to make or break this team. We need you, even if you can’t see it yet.”
His words struck me. I wanted to believe them, badly.
Varro grabbed my chin, tilting it up toward him intimately. I glanced to the side nervously, unsure why he’d touch me like that.
“Keep your chin up, Moirai. All that matters is who we become, not who we were.”
That word again, in the old tongue—the one I didn’t know. He’d only done it a few times. Passing in the hallway, occasionally on the sparring floor. He released my chin and began to walk toward the exit of the pool.
“What is that word you keep calling me?” I questioned, showing more intrigue than I cared to admit. I had tried to find the translation in the library but my search revealed nothing.
He responded to me without so much as a glance over his shoulder, his answer echoing across the stone walls and ceiling.
“Maybe I’ll tell you someday. Maybe I won’t. It’s more fun this way.”
Over the next handful of weeks, we all trained harder than ever before. Each of us put in the work with Saryn, Theory, and one another. The snide remarks had come to an end, and I had to admit I was a bit relieved that Trace and I had come clean about our history. The stares and whispers were finally gone.
I’d be lying if I said the thoughts of that Vesper girl with Varro hadn’t occupied my mind more times than I cared to admit. It was an unwanted distraction, but I was too nervous to ask him about it since I’d then have to confess to spying.
Saryn finally showed hints of being impressed with us. Gia was sustaining her shifts for longer and longer periods of time. Cairis and Nori could have been a sideshow with their elemental manipulation. Trace finally got the ale he requested. As I sipped my cup at dinner, it was bitter with memories of the tavern.
Our formations and combat drills in the flight valley were much improved. It had become second nature, weaving between one another, playing to one another’s strengths, shielding each other’s weaknesses.
As of late, I’d gone easy on myself when it came to the Vespers. Far less torture meant my sleep cycle had returned to normal and I no longer needed nightly visits from Nori.
I always knew when Trace was with a Vesper. The shrieks and bellows of unrelenting pain echoed down the hallways, impossible to ignore. But it was never the sound of Trace screaming.
Growing up with a father like his, and as a black cloak, I’m sure it was all second nature and I prayed I’d never see the horrors of what he was truly capable of. But if he was going to be on someone’s side, I was grateful it was ours. I’d never want to be on the other end of his blade when his hazel eyes went to that haunted, unfeeling place.
It was strange that the Order wanted us to completely forget who we were, but the lives we had left behind were our strongest motivations to become the darkest, most terrifying versions of ourselves. I know that’s why I struggled the most—because before Basdie, I had struggled the least. It’s why I had to train harder and longer because I had to dig deeper than they did to find that spark. The spark that would give me the energy, the anger, to carry forward when the exhaustion began to set in.
Stretching in the sparring room, I glanced down at my hands, inspecting the changes my efforts had wrought. They were bruised, calloused, and raw. Different from the soft, smooth hands that used to grip the reins of my horse as I explored my family’s land on spring days. Autumn was nearing its end, and I worried about how much snow we might see in the Elorns.
Trace warned us all that we must be prepared for setbacks in the flight field when the elements were against us. The thought of frost glistening across my wings as we plunged through the icy valley, wind cutting at our cheeks, seemed alluring, but I knew I’d regret the fantasy I’d built up in my head. Still, there would always be the warmth of the healing pools.
But once we left Basdie, resources such as this would not be guaranteed.