Chapter 34
34
ROOK
“ D o you still want to play?”
Rook was forced to look at his older sister as she moved in front of the carriage window, blocking his view of the mysterious Mer woman who stood just outside. Raven blinked at him expectantly. Moonlight poured over her inky hair, the same hue as his own dark curls.
“It’s your turn again.”
He looked down as Raven wrapped her scarred fingers around his and squeezed gently. Her skin was still pink and healing, shining like a mollusk’s soft flesh. At first, the uneven terrain of her once-smooth skin had scared him. Not because the twisting scars were ugly, but because she had returned from the Tournament as a different person than who she’d been before. Every time Rook looked at those scars, he was reminded that Raven had changed. Sometimes he wondered if the old Raven had been replaced by an imposter, like one of those shapeshifters from the Myths of Old, blessed with the ability of metamorphosis. He stared at the ridges of scar tissue snaking up her wrists, wondering if this version of Raven loved him as much as the old one had.
He wasn’t sure anymore.
His eyes flicked back over to the blocked window. He couldn’t see the Mer woman, but he could still hear her voice. He couldn’t stop himself from listening to the hushed words.
“There is a secret. A prophecy. The sirens were betrayed by the Four Kinsmen during the first war when our mortal ancestors rose up against the Titans to free our world.”
“Eleyera, you can’t be serious,” his mother’s voice cut in. “The Myths have been told for generations. We know them to be true. The Elders have studied every text and mapped out the truth of our origins in the stars. The sirens were the ones who betrayed our ancestors. They went extinct for their treachery.”
“No,” the Mer woman replied firmly. “We have all been deceived. The Myths are a lie. I found Queen Cira’s secret scrolls, where she detailed the truth about what the Four Kinsmen did to secure victory over the Titans. What they did to Cira’s mother, Basilia.”
“Go on,” his father whispered after a beat of silence. “What does this mean for us?”
“In Revelore’s darkest hour, the Four Kinsmen sought an alliance with the sirens, the first beings that the Titans ever created when they wove our world together from dust. With their abilities to draw magic from the air with their voices alone, the sirens were the only ones with the power to stop the Titans once and for all. The tide of war had turned against our ancestors and the end was near. Out of desperation, they traveled to the siren kingdom Anthemoessa in secret, forming an alliance with the sirens. The Four Kinsmen defeated the mother of sirens, Queen Selussa Apate, as a trial to see if their plan would work. But something went wrong. And we will pay the price.”
“Anthemoessa? Selussa? I’ve never heard of a fifth kingdom nor of a fifth Titan. Such a queen does not exist in the records of history and the constellations do not speak of this siren kingdom.”
“Her existence was scrubbed from the Myths of Old, along with the memory of Anthemoessa itself. After they succeeded in defeating Queen Selussa, thus proving that their binding spell worked against immortals, the Four Kinsmen turned on the sirens and used their own blood magic against them. They stole their magical voices and sacrificed the entire kingdom of Anthemoessa in order to create a weapon that would banish the Titans’ souls from this plane of existence. When they realized that they’d been betrayed, the sirens cursed the Four Kinsmen, bestowing upon their offspring a prophecy that would ?”
“Rook!”
Raven squeezed his hands tighter, azure eyes shining bright with fear. Her fingers were trembling, nails digging into the soft skin of his wrists. A seed of unease rooted itself in the back of his mind.
His older sister was never afraid.
Outside, a muffled thump made the carriage rock. A muted scream pierced the night, making Rook jump. Raven whipped her head toward the door, nails biting even harder into his flesh as the carriage jolted. Rook whimpered and she quickly let go, noticing for the first time that she’d been squeezing too hard.
“I’m sorry,” she began, horrified to see the crescents of her nails scored into his skin. “I ?”
“Rook!” Their mother abruptly burst into the carriage, blood spilling from the corners of her mouth.
Rook was suddenly thrust backward, wind rushing in his ears. Time warped around him, the night sky blurring into liquid trails of light that shot out in every direction. The carriage was gone, his mother’s terrified voice a mere echo against the void, growing more and more distant as reality buckled around him like ripples of water. He was weightless, his stomach dropping to his toes as he fell through the sky. The dark pool of night ebbed and flowed, pulsing with palpable energy. Tendrils of stardust faded into sea foam and Rook could feel waves lapping at his feet.
A warm sunrise leaked across the darkness like paint dripping down a blank canvas. The world lit up around him. He was standing on a pebbled shoreline dusted with fine sand. His stomach lurched when he saw the smoke that smudged the golden horizon like smears of charcoal.
In the ocean, a city was burning. Bright blue eternal flames licked up the sides of ancient buildings and magnificent marble turrets collapsed, falling into the sea like shattered cliff sides. Smoke billowed into the sky as the city sunk into a whirlpool of flames. Then he heard the screaming. Thousands of agonized voices carried through the smoke-choked breeze, song-like and melodious despite the obvious terror. The sound was haunting as it mingled with the crash of waves and the cries of gulls.
Rook looked down at his booted feet as another swell of seawater rolled over the beach. He nearly vomited when he saw the gore-flecked waves, tinged pink with blood. He was rooted to the spot, helpless as the blood-stained ocean soaked through his leathers.
“For your treachery, your descendants will never know peace,” a voice called from behind him. “My sisters and I fulfilled the bargain and did as you asked. We created your Relics with our power as agreed. Why have you done this?”
Rook turned around and inhaled sharply, taking in the mystifying scene before him. The body of a woman lay limp against the sand, turquoise eyes unseeing and glassy. Her bright red hair fanned out across the beach, threaded with strands of seaweed and pearl beads. Her hair blended into the crimson pool of blood that gushed from a slit across her pale throat.
A wave of nausea welled up in Rook’s mouth, but he forced it back down as he took in the rest of her lifeless form. Her armored torso looked like any other woman’s, but where her hips and thighs should’ve begun, a shimmering tail lay against the sand. Multi-dimensional purple scales glinted in the morning sun. Pelvic fins as delicate as frills of silk flowed from her hips and drifted gently in the receding tide. At the end of her opalescent tail, her fins split into two triangular lobes. A veil-like membrane fanned out between the two lobes, tipped with pearlescent barbs that shimmered in the dawn.
A siren.
Tearing his eyes away from the deceased siren, Rook gaped at the remaining figures who stood a few feet away. He quickly identified three of the four Kinsmen: Aris, Vasia, and Raj. The Mer Queen Basilia was nowhere in sight. They were looking down at something. Rook tried to get closer, but his feet had sunken further into the sand, his muscles made of stone. A woman lay splayed at their feet, wrapped in thick iron chains. A tail the color of emerald thrashed against the sand, chains rattling as she writhed. A blood-streaked wave slid up the beach and washed over her. She choked on the bloodied waves. Another siren.
Raj the Stone King bent down and dug his fingers into the sand, the tendons and veins of his forearms popping as he strained. Deep red crystals emerged from the ground like a nest of dying embers. The bed of crystals surrounded the thrashing siren, rising up out of the sand like ice shards from a glacial sea, obeying Raj’s stone-singing call.
Bloodstone, Rook recognized.
“You will defeat the Titans in this age, but they will return one day,” the voice continued.
He realized that the chained siren was speaking. Her voice was ripe with power, echoing with layered harmonious voices like various instruments in an orchestra. It was otherworldly and eerie, yet simultaneously enchantingly beautiful. He could feel the air stirring around him, as if the fabric of the world shuddered under her voice and waited for instruction. She glared at the three Revelorian rulers above her, sharp hatred glinting in her eyes like broken glass.
“Leucosia, enough,” Aris warned. “This is necessary. This was the only way.”
Leucosia’s revulsion rippled off of her in palpable waves, undercut by a sorrow so intense that Rook nearly fell to his knees. Tears glittered in the siren’s eyes as Vasia pulled out an onyx flask from her satchel. Vasia almost looked sorry for the chained siren as she uncorked the vial, her mouth twitching ever so slightly, as though she tasted something sour on her tongue.
Finished with summoning the bloodstone, Raj stood and took the vial from Vasia’s awaiting hands. He turned toward the lifeless siren and strode toward Rook, splashing through the shallow tide. For a moment, Rook was terrified that the Stone King would see him standing on the beach, but Raj’s moon-pale eyes went right through him, completely unaware of his presence. Raj knelt next to the crimson-haired siren and pressed the lip of the flask against her slit throat, collecting several drops of rust-colored blood.
Rook watched in horror as the Stone King swirled the dead siren’s blood with whatever substance had already been stored inside. He didn’t have to see inside the vial to know that it was already filled with another’s blood.
Divine blood. If he had to guess, it was Selussa’s blood, obtained when they initially allied with the sirens to banish her from Revelore. The blood of an innocent and the blood of an immortal.
As he put the pieces together, horror smeared itself along his spine and his stomach revolted. They were going to banish the chained siren to the underworld using a Blood Gate.
Leucosia began to wail then, a sound so haunting that the fine hairs on Rook’s arms stood on end and the hot blood in his veins plummeted to ice. Her song held the sorrow of a thousand agonized voices and thrummed in the air like the vibrations of harp strings. He could feel the raw power in her voice, the salty wind thickening with magic that he couldn’t see but he knew was there. His bones felt heavier, his heart thudding slowly in his chest, as though her singing dragged the passing of time to a screeching halt.
Raj poured the blood concoction over the bed of crystals. If he was disturbed by her voice, he didn’t show it. The crimson stream sparkled in the sunrise like wine poured from a decanter, splashing across the bloodstone and speckling the siren’s beautiful face. Her mournful song turned bitter, the chords of her voice sharpening like a razor’s edge as she forced every ounce of rage from her lungs. A storm collected on the horizon and a shroud of black clouds stretched across the heavens like a curtain pulled taut. The wind picked up and ripped across the beach, sending shards of driftwood and grains of sand pelting over Rook. He shielded his eyes and fought the urge to run. The scent of rain and rage filled his nostrils.
The bed of crystals cracked as the blood concoction spilled over their jagged edges, hairline splinters forming along the sand beneath Leucosia as the bloodgate formed. She continued to thrash against the chains, emerald tail spraying damp sand, nails digging into the embankment. Vasia looked away, shame flooding her eyes as the wind tore through her hair. Aris grimaced but remained steadfast, clutching his wife’s hand as they watched the veil between worlds grow thin.
Leucosia kept singing and the tropical temperature dropped abruptly. Suddenly, the briney wind was ice-cold and crystalline flakes formed in the torrent of rain, needling Rook’s face with tiny pinpricks. Ice glossed over the pebbled beach and snow gathered in his lashes.
The Northern Wastes, he realized with a start.
He was witnessing its formation with his very eyes. Leucosia had summoned an eternity of glacial weather to shroud her former kingdom. With the lives of her people sacrificed and Anthemoessa in sinking ruins, her kingdom was empty and desolate, preserved in a shell of ice as unfeeling and cold as those who had betrayed her.
Rook felt his cheeks dampen, the hot trails of tears freezing on his skin as soon as they fell. The siren’s voice made his heart drop to his toes. In her presence, he felt all the despair of the world, so hopeless that it was a tangible entity with a dagger at his throat, a thick clot of anguish choking out any shred of faith. He wanted to yell, to stop them from banishing her to Hel, but his voice remained locked in his mouth.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Vasia breathed, chin upturned toward the swirling vortex of snowflakes churning above them. She stepped away from the edge of the Blood Gate and dug her fingers into Aris’s tunic as if to steady herself. “What if ? —”
“No.” The Auran king didn’t meet his wife’s eyes, staring instead at the writhing siren on the sand. His frown deepened. “This is the only way.”
The tract of bloodstone beneath Leucosia gave way, imploding in on itself. Her hair had frozen across her skin, seaweed ribbons coated in a thin crust of frost. Her lips had turned blue and her eyes impossibly bright. But she kept singing even as the ground shattered and the void opened with a heaving roar. Melancholic notes sharpened into words, cleaving through the air like knives:
“From your kin shall rise again the mother,
From your line shall Revelore’s fate be sealed.
Truth, though you may revise and smother,
Will mark your kin and death shall not yield.
Bloodshed and chaos shall your bounty be.
Until truth is revealed and Sight is freed,
Until the Titans rise again to remake we,
Unity shall elude you and greed you will wield.”
With the final words of her prophecy uttered, the siren was consumed by darkness, falling into the underworld with the curse still on her lips. Her voice continued to echo like the tolls of a death knell, whispering on the icy wind as her magic wrote the prophecy into existence, blazing her curse into the stars and knitting the future into the very fabric of Revelore.
Suddenly Rook was staring up at the faces of Aris, Vasia, and Raj. He saw through Leucosia’s eyes as she fell backward into the gaping maw of the underworld. The faces of her former allies grew smaller and smaller as she plummeted. He could feel her terror and fury pulsing with every beat of her heart, could feel the numbing darkness encroaching all around her. It felt like being buried alive, and she supposed that she was. Her voice was torn from her throat and she felt hollowed out. Her vocal cords strained, but no more than a rasp passed from her lips. The magic of her song remained in Revelore, dusting over the ruins of her kingdom, leaving her throat desolate and empty.
They took her power.
They took her voice.
They killed her sister in cold blood.
They took everything.
They would pay.
The mouths of a thousand sirens had begged them for mercy, but only one voice would haunt them for an eternity. Hers. The scent of her burning city scorched the inside of her nose and everything went black.