Chapter 32
Lyonesse was a strange comfort. Jenyfer should have despised the place, but she didn’t.
This world of water and music worked its magic on her almost instantly – the sights, the sounds, the smells of her father’s realm burrowed into her bones.
It was stronger than the last time she was here.
Then, she’d been terrified, but now she was at ease with the castle and the music that seemed to fill every space.
What she had done in Kernou played on her mind – not because she had drowned a town, but because it had been so easy.
The power that she’d unleashed still tingled through her blood, swimming and swirling and pushing at the watery heart of her.
She wanted to let it out again, and that scared her more than Lyonesse or her father ever could.
She and Ordes couldn’t stay here forever – she was afraid of what this place might do to her if they did – but she wasn’t sure where to go next.
She didn’t like the way her father’s eyes dropped to the pouch around her neck.
She didn’t need to ask to know the Treasure spoke to him.
The book that Ophine had snuck on board the ship had said the Singing Stone’s power was compulsion, which made Jenyfer wonder if this had been what it wanted all along – not to help her save a world, but for her to return to this one.
But she’d drown if they stayed here. She could feel it.
It was after midnight, and Jenyfer was sitting on the steps to her father’s castle, staring out at the inky blackness of Lyonesse.
Somewhere in the distance was a waterfall, and if she concentrated, she could hear the water as it slipped gracefully down the walls of the castle and moved through the earth beneath them.
Ordes was sleeping – she’d go in soon, before he woke and wondered where she was.
‘You still don’t know what it does, do you?’
Jenyfer didn’t respond. She’d been avoiding her father as much as possible, not able to answer his questions, not wanting to hear them at all. Melodias came to stand beside her – she snuck a look at his feet. They were bare, toes finely webbed, skin translucent. Scales flecked his ankles.
He sighed and sat beside her, uninvited. ‘Compulsion.’
‘I know that.’
‘But do you know how to use it?’ he asked.
When she didn’t respond, he went on, his smooth voice flowing over her.
‘It contains the same magic as our voice, daughter, but magnified a thousand times. Compulsion is at the heart of what we are. I know you don’t agree with that, but a syhren’s role in this world is to—’
‘Sing men to death, I know,’ Jenyfer cut in.
‘I was going to say protect the sea and everything in it.’
She looked at her father in surprise.
He chuckled. ‘Why do you think it’s human fishermen we target? They strip the ocean of its bounty. They take more than they need. Death is the punishment for their greed.’
Jenyfer swallowed. ‘I hadn’t thought about it like that.’
‘No one thinks about it like that. They look at me, at my children, and they see monsters,’ Melodias said. ‘I will admit that there is a level of bloodthirstiness in our nature. We’re hunters, predators, like the sharks and almost everything in the ocean. We kill to survive.’
‘And the Stone?’ Jenyfer asked.
‘An amplification of that instinct,’ her father said. ‘If I had that—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘But I don’t. You do. And if you’re going to use it you need to understand that your magic, the power in your voice, the weapon that it is, will be more dangerous than ever.’
Jenyfer swallowed. ‘I see.’
‘You could control armies, Jenyfer. Make thousands of men do your bidding. What you did up there, in Kernou, is nothing. You could make them slit their own throats, gouge out their eyes – not stop until the enemy was defeated. They would fight on even if they were bleeding and broken,’ Melodias explained.
Jenyfer reached up to curl her hand around the stone. It purred as she stroked it through the pouch and she knew her father was telling her the truth. ‘Why was it made? Why was such a thing created if all it can do is harm?’
‘Because it’s a weapon of war, my dear, and it was used as one.’
Jenyfer released the stone. ‘But you weren’t in the last war,’ she pointed out. ‘We saw it. Ankou showed us.’
Melodias shook his head. ‘You saw a moment of a conflict that lasted years. They think that because I was not there that I played no role. The human armies fought until death claimed them. You didn’t see that, did you?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Which side were you on?’
‘Both of them,’ Melodias told her. ‘I used the Stone to drive both armies to fight until the end.’
‘Why?’ Jenyfer said.
‘Because no matter what happened with my siblings, I would be on the winning side,’ he said.
A laugh escaped her. ‘Of course.’
‘You need to start thinking like a syhren – like a predator – if you’re going to fight in a war, daughter,’ Melodias said.
‘But I’m not,’ she whispered. ‘I’m not a predator and I’m not going to war.’
‘If you say so.’
She didn’t bother with a response. They sat in silence, until her father cleared his throat.
‘I like having you here.’
Jenyfer almost fell off the steps. ‘You do?’
‘Is that so hard to believe?’
‘Well, yes, if I’m being honest. You made it clear how much of a disappointment I was before,’ she said simply.
‘I was wrong,’ Melodias said. ‘And I meant it. You can stay here for as long as you like. Him too,’ he added, gesturing back at the castle. ‘Even if he’s done nothing but brood since you got here.’
‘He’s got a lot on his mind,’ Jenyfer murmured.
‘Yes, I imagine he does,’ Melodias said.
Jenyfer turned to her father accusingly.
His lips curled, but the smile was regretful, not gloating as she expected. ‘Would either of you have believed me?’
Jenyfer sighed and turned away. ‘What does she want? What would she have had him do?’
Melodias was silent for a long time. ‘She’d have him destroy the world, so she could start again.
You think I’m ruthless because of what I am, what my children do, but Niniane is so scared of fading from this world she’d have her only child soil his hands with the blood of every living thing in Teyath to get what she wants.
’ He shifted his position, black-scaled fingers coming to rest on his knees, tapping rhythmically.
‘That is why I have not allied with her.’
‘But you have,’ Jenyfer argued. ‘You allied with Mordred, who is doing what she wants.’
‘I allied with Mordred to get what I wanted,’ Melodias said. ‘And it turns out I didn’t have to do that at all.’
Jenyfer glanced at him. ‘What did you want?’
‘You.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, daughter. You. Sitting here, with me, like this.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘So you could manipulate me?’
This time, his smile was sad. ‘So I could know you, Jenyfer.’
The river that wove like a glistening serpent through the rocky plain of Lyonesse was oddly enthralling.
Jenyfer leant out over the balcony railing.
Music floated to her ears, another layer added to the sound of this place.
It should have been chaos, so many melodies woven together, so many voices, but it wasn’t.
She tapped her fingers on the railing and hummed, her voice slipping into the spaces the others left behind.
Before she realised what was happening, she was singing.
They had eaten breakfast with her father, who had made it to the end of the meal before he insulted Ordes.
She’d thought she’d dreamt her conversation with him in the middle of the night, but the look he gave her when he saw her told her it had been real.
He’d not sat on the sidelines and watched while everyone else tried to kill each other the last time the Old Ones went to war. He’d played both sides.
Only, there had been no victor in that war and there might not be one this time either. For who truly wins in a war?
She’d spent the rest of the night curled beside Ordes, his arm over her body, trying to figure out if her father had told her the truth. The idea that he wanted her made her want to laugh, but there had been an honesty to his expression she’d never seen before. She wasn’t sure what to think.
Was knowing him something she wanted?
Jenyfer let the final notes of her song fade and turned around to find Ordes leaning in the doorway, a smile tugging at his lips. His hair had grown, she noticed, and in the watery light of Lyonesse, his skin was like rich honey.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ Jenyfer replied. ‘He did well, don’t you think?’
Ordes snorted in disagreement, joining her on the balcony. ‘That’s the most impractical dress I think I’ve seen you wear yet.’
Jenyfer grinned. ‘It’s positively scandalous, isn’t it?’
The clothing Lyonesse had to offer was more suited for a night of fine dining than anything else.
The dress had a sweeping skirt that trailed over the ground behind her when she walked and fit snugly to the shape of her body.
Her arms were bare, and the front of the dress was open almost to her navel, the curve of her breasts on display.
Like almost everything here, the fabric reflected the colours of the ocean – this dress was mother of pearl and shimmered in the light.
Ordes kissed the side of her head. ‘You’re happy here,’ he stated.
Jenyfer’s smile fell. ‘But you’re not, are you?’
‘It’s not that I’m unhappy. I’m with you, so how could I be? It’s that…’ He gazed out at the landscape. ‘Is that…?’
Jenyfer frowned. ‘I don’t see anything.’
‘You won’t,’ Ordes said. ‘It’s the Bag Noz, but it’s empty.’
‘Is that unusual?’ Jenyfer saw nothing except the slick, dark water.
‘Yes,’ Ordes murmured. ‘It doesn’t travel to the Otherworld without passengers.’ He ran his hand over his face and sighed. ‘Ophine knows how to make an entrance, I’ll give them that.’
Jenyfer’s heart sped up. Ophine wasn’t one for a friendly visit. She swallowed. ‘Should we…’
Wings unfolded from Ordes’ back in answer. Mouth dry, Jenyfer let him lift her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly, burying her face in his neck as the ground dropped away from them. When Ordes landed gently, she opened her eyes.
They were beside the Black River. Ordes let her down and she gasped. A simple boat, much like the rowboats on The Excalibur, materialised on the water. It was black, the sides low, and a single lantern hung from a post at the bow.
Ordes grinned at her. ‘I thought you might want to see it.’
Ophine, dark cloak billowing behind them and hood covering most of their face, was scowling. ‘You’re not supposed to mess with my vessel, faery.’
‘And you’re not supposed to be using the Bag Noz as your personal carriage,’ Ordes said as the small boat was guided to the shore.
Ophine hopped out, boots sloshing in the black water. ‘I despise swimming, did you know that?’
‘What are you doing here?’ Jenyfer asked.
Ophine ran their eyes over Jenyfer. ‘You dressed up for me? How sweet.’
‘What are you doing here, Ophine?’ Jenyfer repeated, firmer this time.
‘There is something you need to know,’ the wraith said, eyes lingering on the castle before swinging back to Jenyfer and Ordes. ‘I’m not here because I care.’
‘I would never have thought any different,’ Jenyfer said.
Ophine pointed a scaled finger at them. ‘I’m here because… it doesn’t matter who asked me to come, or why I even bothered. The truth is, he was right. I don’t want to see the world descend into chaos.’
Jenyfer and Ordes exchanged a look. Ophine was being more cryptic than usual.
‘But I know why you’re here – both of you,’ Ophine said, narrowing their eyes. ‘Don’t you think you’ve chosen the wrong moment to be selfish fools?’
Jenyfer’s fists curled as anger, deep and dark and as treacherous as the ocean, flowed through her. The Singing Stone crooned and thrummed and burnt against her breastbone. She curled her hand around it, feeling it pulse in time with her heartbeat.
Ophine shook their head. ‘Do you even know what that thing can do?’
‘Would you like to find out?’ Jenyfer shot back. Ophine laughed in delight, making Jenyfer grind her teeth so hard her jaw pinged. Anger was a burning streak in her blood. She took a deep breath, trying desperately to push it aside.
Disappointed, whispered a voice. The Stone. It spoke with her father’s voice. Jenyfer squeezed the Treasure until it stopped speaking.
Ordes touched her arm and her anger cooled, flowing away as quickly as it had risen. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Those you left behind are in danger.’
‘From what?’ Ordes demanded.
‘Not what – who,’ Ophine replied.
As the wraith spoke, Jenyfer’s heart turned to glass. It was the most insubstantial, the most breakable and delicate she had ever felt in her life. She knew, she knew, what would come next.
‘You need to stop this,’ Ophine hissed. ‘Now!’
Time suspended between the three of them, the weight of decision, of fate, choice and destiny dropping like a shroud to cover Jenyfer from head to toe.
She knew what he was going to say before he said it.
The heartfire blazed in objection. It knew as well and her song exploded, dark and sombre with discordant notes and clashing melodies.
‘Jenyfer,’ Ordes whispered. ‘We can’t leave them to die like that.’
When she spoke, her voice fractured into a million pieces, and her heart, that fragile, human thing, tumbled to the ground around her feet and shattered. ‘I know.’