Chapter 3 #3
I took a deep breath. A hundred years ago, the Sirens’ greatest enemies, the fire-wielding Mourners, set in motion events that would lead to war.
We tried to live in relative harmony with them.
But when they started killing us, and paying pirates to do the same, we could no longer be gentle women of the water, singing from rocks just off the shore.
Blood clouded the sea and painted the sharp volcanic rock surrounding the Mourner island.
When it was clear there would be no victor in such an aimless war, we retreated far beneath the waters and vowed to never go near the surface again.
But we fell for Mourner trickery, and our precious artifact was stolen from us under the guise of peace talks.
May the Spirits grant me luck for once in my life, and may my people forgive me if this goes wrong.
“The Voidtome lies in Hell, and the only entrance is on Ghrysim Isle, the island of Mourners.” After all, that was why the Fire Spirit’s descendants were called Mourners.
They watched over the realm of the dead. Demons.
Reiven burst out laughing. “No fucking way.”
“I’m not lying.”
His laughter went silent, replaced by a look of shock and utter disbelief. If I wasn’t mistaken, a bit of horror lay beneath those dark eyes. “There’s no possible way the Voidtome is there. Even if there was, there’s no way you’re going in there and getting back out, Ash!”
That was true enough. There were stories of travelers who made the voyage to Hell, intending on communing with dead loved ones or finding the treasures that supposedly existed there. But no one who set off on a journey to Hell ever came back.
“Well…” Ashkade said, studying my face as carefully as I studied his right back. “Why’s it in Hell?”
In no uncertain terms, I explained everything I knew about the war.
To his credit, Ashkade gave me his rapt attention, reacting with outrage and sympathy at the bloody betrayals that unfolded between Sirens and Mourners a hundred years ago.
A spark of hatred rekindled in my soul. Sure, my sister and I grew up with the tales of the war, but it was a long time ago, and we remained safe deep in the ocean trenches.
Mourners sounded more like mythical sea monsters.
But after retelling the entire story, if I saw a Mourner then, I would have killed them without blinking.
“Well, I’ll be…The Mourners stole the Voidtome from the Sirens, Rei. Can ya believe it?”
Reiven had reclaimed his relaxed posture. That aggravating aura of loathing when he glanced my way was still present, too. “No, I don’t believe it,” he said dryly.
A genuine smile brightened Ashkade’s face, and he carefully reached for my hand. Normally, I would have ripped it away from him, but this young man…he was disarming. I hadn’t decided yet if it was in a good way or a bad way.
“Zephra,” he said. His hand was surprisingly strong and comforting. “When we find the Voidtome, after nullifyin’ the enchantment on you two, I think you should return it to your people. My aim was to keep it out of the Druinns’ hands, and I think that’s the best way to do that. You?”
I stared down at him, words failing.
This has to be some kind of ploy. He’s a Human. Power-hungry, destructive. There’s a lie somewhere in his friendly words, but where?
Reiven stepped between us. “Listen to me, kid! Warnings to never trust a fucking Siren circulate on every pirate ship beyond Redsand Cove. She’s trying to trick you to your death,” he spat, resting his hand on the hilt of his cutlass again.
Wait.
Wait a minute.
A cutlass. Pirate warnings about Sirens. Shaddan and his enchantment had distracted me, but that brief vision I saw at the banquet, of the sea and a ship with a black flag—that was him.
“You.” I pointed a shaky finger at him and gathered the strength to yell. “You’re a pirate. A Siren-hunter!”
The worst kind of Human. That explained the bad feeling I had about him, the instant distaste we had for each other. Men like him were part of the reason my people remained in the Deep and never came to the surface. Hatred simmered beneath my skin, spreading deep into my bones like rot.
Darkness swallowed the flash of worry I saw in his eyes. “Formerly.”
“I will not be bound to a Siren-hunting monster!”
“Consider yourself lucky I don’t put my blade through your heart, Siren,” Reiven snapped.
Ashkade gave me a grin that fought to overpower the animosity clouding the air, but couldn't. “Hey now, don’t talk like that. Y’all will be able to get along until we make it to Ghrysim Isle, right?”
No. Never with a pirate, or any Human for that matter.
The Druinnic chain was a setback, but retrieving the Tome was my plan.
And if these two Humans had some devious scheme to betray me and steal it away, they would find out too late why Shaddan had been so determined to get to me after Jereq told him where the Voidtome was.
I was the only person above the waves who knew the Song of the Void—the melody essential to overcome the mysterious barriers around the Tome.
When I steal the Voidtome, I’ll use it to destroy both of them and this damn collar. Then I’ll give their people a taste of their own damn medicine. And when I get home, I’ll be a fucking legend.