Chapter 11
The thin fabric of my dress flitted with each step, light and airy, as we walked down a long hall, turning into an entrance with a sweeping glass staircase.
“So, where are you from then?” Morvyn asked coolly as we ascended the steps shoulder to shoulder.
I eyed him warily.
“Come on, I promise not to bite. Unless you want me to, of course,” he added with a devious smile, his sharp upper canines exposed, as white as his flesh.
All the sirens I’d encountered had sharp teeth. Besides Hylos’s, which were blunt like mine.
I pointed skyward. “I’m from up there.”
Morvyn’s smile deepened and his nose crinkled. “Of course, those pathetically small feet gave that away. But what region?”
“What do you know of the regions on lands?” I asked.
“Never heard of a map? Talk about uncouth,” he drawled.
“I lived by the mountains in an area called Ashbourne.” It wasn’t technically a lie. I had spent most of my life at Granger House, which slept at the base of the Ashen Mountains outside of Ashbourne.
“That’s quite a way from the ocean,” he said.
“Yes, I was sent away.”
The corners of our eyes caught as we wound up the glass staircase.
“By who?” he asked.
“My father, to be married,” I answered, unsure why I was telling him the truth at all.
“Blah, marriage,” Morvyn scoffed. “Repugnant.”
“Agreed,” I sneered.
“I take it the marriage wasn’t your idea then.”
I shook my head, a silent no.
“Well, no grotesque husband awaits you here in Naiadon, my dear. Marriage is not a common practice among sirens; our inclinations lean toward a more liberated expression of love.”
They didn’t marry? That wasn’t even an option in Oakhaven. Unless you wanted to be a spinster who died alone in a hovel in the woods, or joined a drucia convent.
“But if you’re looking for a good time for the night, we can provide that,” he added, elbowing me in the side.
I flinched at the unexpected touch.
“Sorry,” he apologized with a polite nod, then created space between us. A minuscule but respectful gesture.
I paused, looking past the glass that surrounded the staircase, and stared in wonder at the sprawling castle that stretched beyond. Glass spires of stone and crystal reached heavenward, their edges blurred by the blue-green shimmer of the sea. “How is this place even here?”
“Well, I was never the best pupil, believe it or not.”
“I believe it,” I quipped.
He smiled, reveling in the remark, then continued, “But, I know King Aegir the Great created it. He is … well, was the king of all three seas. Hylos will tell you he still is, but his father has been missing for years now.” The corner of Morvyn’s pale mouth dipped into a frown for a heartbeat.
I continued my ascent. “Is his father one of the missing sirens Hylos is looking for?” The sirens he thought my father took.
Morvyn reached my side, no sly smile to be seen. “Aegir was the first to go missing.”
My stomach sank. Hylos’s revenge on my father wasn’t just for his people, but his family.
The staircase gave way to a sizable circular room.
Tremendous white marble bookshelves lined the walls, filled with hundreds and hundreds of manuscripts and books of various colors, their spines aligned, with scrolls tucked into honeycomb grids.
My heart thrilled. I’d never seen so much literature in all my life.
Morvyn collapsed dramatically onto a white armchair, kicking his finned feet up on its matching ottoman and throwing a lazy hand around the room. “All the wonders of the sea, m’lady.”
It would take hundreds of lifetimes to read them all, and that made my very soul sing.
So many worlds to uncover. So much truth to be garnered.
At Granger House, books were lifelines to the world past my mountains.
The only opportunity to be completely free.
To wander safely through a thousand lives in the absence of my own.
I walked to one of the colossal bookcases, a ladder leaning against it.
It was begging me to climb up and harvest its bounty, to reach the highest fruit.
My eyes traced the shelves of books past a mezzanine filled with more volumes, which stretched to the glass ceiling that glittered with life in the hazy blue sea. Spectacular.
My fingers grazed their covers, most aged and worn.
“May I?” I questioned, looking to Morvyn, who watched me curiously.
“By all means,” he answered from his seat.
I picked up a red book, its cover making a crisp noise as I cracked it open. The scent of old paper and ink whispered from the pages that cascaded at my fingertips. The words were strange, neither in Oakhaven nor any of the other five languages I knew.
“Lumina’s always banging on about these books,” Morvyn remarked with a smirk.
“I’m surprised she’s not around here with her nose stuck in one.
She says they’re lost to the terra world, but we’ve plucked them from the depths, hidden away in sunken ships or forgotten cities.
” He sauntered over to my side and peered over my shoulder. “Usually, I just look at the pictures.”
I looked up at him. “I don’t know this language.”
Morvyn plucked the book from my hands, his ice-blue eyes scanning the pages.
“That’s because it’s old Praetirum, a language that’s about six hundred years older than you.”
“Morvyn, I hope you’re not bothering her.” A voice rang through the room, warm and cantabile.
I turned to see a radiant siren dressed in a yellow silk dress with layers of tendrils that danced as she coasted our way. The color of her gown contrasted with her deep mahogany skin but matched her gilded fins, visible with each step.
“Be wary,” she said to me with a knowing smile. “Siren men are shameless rakes who often see humans as conquests.” She stopped before Morvyn and me.
“Lumina, whatever do you mean?” Morvyn said as he leaned an arm on the bookshelf, flexing his biceps with the motion.
“You Morvyn, of all sirens, know exactly what I mean,” she said, looking up at him. Golden scales coruscated on the crests of her cheeks as she raised an eyebrow.
“Lumi, love, are you jealous of my conquests? If you wanted to be one of them all you ever had to do was ask.” He reached out and tucked a brunet braid behind her ear. She leaned toward him in familiarity, but she still rolled her beautiful brown eyes for show.
“See? Shameless,” she said to me. “You must be the human visitor all of Naiadon is speaking of. I’m happy to meet you. I have so many questions.”
Anxiety fluttered in my chest. Questions?
Morvyn retreated to the couches. “Careful how you answer, Elowyn, or you will be stuck answering her questions for the next millennium while she scribbles them down.”
“I’m sure she would prefer that then being flirted to death. Besides, we haven’t had a terra woman down here in a while. Much has likely changed on land,” Lumina answered.
Did that mean there had been others before me?
“Terra.” The new word rolled clumsily off my tongue. “I’ve never heard that word before.”
“Terra, like the Guardian Terragos,” she answered.
“You and your people are his children, as we are Nymphaea’s.
” Her words were warm but matter-of-fact.
“Nixie told me about your prayer beads for the Holy Mother, how they granted you breath under the sea. We call it a ventus, an invoked gift blessed with siren magic to allow you in our domain.” I hid the piece behind my back.
If it was magic, like they said, it might be my only way out of here.
“Where did you get such an item?” she asked, her eyes quizzical. She looked at me as though I was some strange phenomenon she was trying to figure out. She was so beautiful; it was almost hard to look at her. Like her bright eyes would shine a light on every secret you ever held.
“It is a prayer bracelet, used to recite prayers,” I answered. “It belonged to my mother.”
“I’m familiar with prayer beads, but I’ve never known them to be invoked. Interesting. Well, I’m glad you had it. It likely saved your life. Now you’re safe here with us.”
Safe wasn’t exactly how I’d describe being a prisoner among mythical creatures that hated my father.
“Nixie believes Nymphaea herself saved you,” Lumina added.
“Some of us are more spiritual than others,” Morvyn said as he flipped through a book.
“Can you even read, Morvyn?” Lumina said. “Sirens are made in the great Mother’s image, after all. How could we not believe in her wonder?” She pointed down to her long, slender, finned feet, scintillant in gold.
I looked at her in awe, struggling to pull my eyes away.
“Have you taken her to the treasury?” Lumina asked Morvyn.
“That’s what I was thinking next. Will you join us? You know all about that old stuff.”
Lumina shook her head, “Your grandsire found half those relics and gifted them to King Aegir the Great. We get it, you’re another ignorant wellborn, but at least pretend like you know something of your dynastic history.
” She looked back to me. “Thank goodness I’m here to rescue you from pure and utter brain rot,” Lumina said with a smile.
“We were having a lovely time before you arrived, for your information.” Morvyn sounded insulted.
“Of course we were,” I said, then shook my head no at Lumina in jest.
She smiled softly. Despite her otherworldly beauty that told me to be wary, I liked her.
“To the treasury then,” Lumina said, and turned for the stairs.
Morvyn followed, as did I.
Then I saw it.
Out of the corner of my eye, on the second level of the mezzanine, hidden in one of the towering bookshelves, a faint blue gleam like a sapphire star twinkling in a dusky sky. Was I imagining it? It seemed like the more I looked at it, the brighter that light became.
Then a sharp clamor rang through the library, like blackbirds calling to one another in a garden.
“What was that?” Lumina said as she looked back at me.
Morvyn turned too.
Heart still, I trained my eyes on them, avoiding what had my true full attention.
I shrugged my shoulders like I’d heard nothing at all.
Morvyn and Lumina passed a look between them. Then they turned back toward the stairs.
With one last glance, I noted the spot above their heads that still glowed, increasing its light as I trailed them out of the library. Something on that level of the library called to me and I needed to know why.