Chapter 40
Cold, black stone replaced the sleek marble of Hylos’s bedroom. The whiplash of the transportation made waves of nausea churn through me. Replacing Hylos’s fine wine cellar was a damp space occupied only by spiders that hung in webs in the dusty corners.
Spinning on my heel, I returned to the painting, searching for another glimpse of my mother’s face, only to see a worn painting of the sea coated in dust.
“It worked!” Arlo exclaimed. “Blessed be the Guardians! It worked!” He gathered me in his arms, but I didn’t embrace him back.
I was going to be sick.
“Elowyn, what’s wrong?”
I’d left the last remaining family I had on this earth.
The last remaining member of my family who may have actually wanted me.
I left behind my brother. The room continued to spin.
My heart was drumming in my ears. Hylos …
Hylos was my brother. Right there in front of me this whole time.
My brother. The baby. The baby in mother’s stomach.
It was not just her. It was her and him.
They said he died, like all the other babies before.
I was going to be sick.
“Elowyn, are you okay?”
My stomach plummeted. How? How was this possible? It hit me in waves, crashing and crashing into me. The journal. Written by my mother’s own hands. I left it. I left Hylos. I left the last pieces of my mother that still sang through this world below the sea.
Hard stone cut my bare skin as I fell to my knees.
“Are you hurt?” Arlo kneeled beside me.
“That painting, it was of my … my … mo—”
A heavy wooden door groaned open. I was too numb to act, and Arlo grabbed me under my arms, swiftly pulling us under a nearby desk made of burled wood.
“The final attack will push the siren princeling over the edge for sure,” A female’s voice hissed.
“Wonderful, now go back through that damned painting, grope the little fish-man, and keep things on track. Once he has attacked, I’ll finally be able to convince the king to take the threats of the sea seriously,” another woman’s voice replied.
“Then we’ll be free to take as many of those damned monsters as we please. ”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
I recognized that sickening hiss. It was Calypstra.
Arlo looked at me, fear swelling in his eyes too. Recklessly, he glanced over the desk. He needed to see whoever it was for himself, even if it meant putting us in danger. When his eyes locked onto the speakers, he rose to his feet. “Catarina?”
“Arlo,” Calypstra responded, her voice softened.
“How …? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice cracking.
She didn’t respond.
“Well, well, well. How are you, my lovely boy?” the other voice cooed in an overly motherly tone.
“I thought you …” Arlo stammered.
“What, killed your whore lover?” the other woman said.
“Well, I sure tried to. But she is just relentless. Although I hate to admit it, I’ve grown quite fond of her now.
She’s delightfully ruthless. Ironically enough, she would have made a lovely daughter-in-law.
If only your mother listened to your pleading.
Oh well, with hindsight comes clarity, I suppose. ”
“Arlo, I—” Calypstra started.
“Oh, you two lovebirds save it for some other time. What I want to know is how you got into the castle, my child,” she continued.
Castle? We were in a castle?
Arlo didn’t answer.
“Come on now, son, go ahead and answer,” said the woman.
Son? That couldn’t be Arlo’s vile mother, could it? How was she here?
“Fine, have it your way. Cat, dear, take him to the dungeon, the deepest cellar you can find, then we’ll ship him off to Whiterok tomorrow. Your brother will be so happy to see you.”
Whiterok? As in Cedric’s Whiterok? What the fuck was going on.
The grating sound of mismatched discordant tones chimed through the air, forcing water in a wave around Arlo, who thrashed against its grip.
“You’re one of them?” Arlo yelled in fear.
Another sound clamored and Arlo flew toward the voices. The desk I hid under was dragged with him across the room, exposing me.
“Huh, this evening is just full of surprises,” said the queen of Oakhaven, my father’s wife. She walked until she was standing before me, her heeled shoes clicking against the hard stone. She wore an ornate traveling dress lined with gold thread and jewels. She was no longer pregnant.
“Stay away from her!” Arlo roared, still thrashing in Calypstra’s watery grip.
The queen looked between Arlo and me knowingly.
“Catarina said you were below the sea, Elowyn, held prisoner by that little fish prince. She was working on your demise. She did not tell me, however, of Arlo being with you … But I see now you two must have formed some sort of bond below. Now for lying …” The queen smiled back at Calypstra, wagging a finger at her and tsking. “For that she will be punished.”
She looked back down at me with a false, saccharine smile, drawing a pointed thumb over my cheek. “Yes, well, I suppose we can find some use for you instead.”
“Get the fuck away from her!” Arlo screamed in a guttural, pained yell.
She met his eyes and cocked her head, tossing her flaxen curls, her painted red lips cutting into a vicious smile.
“My long-lost son, I will not leave the Lady Elowyn Blackthorn alone. Finally, you’ve picked a suitable match. We should celebrate!” She looked back at Calypstra, who held onto her power with fear and pain welling in her eyes. “No offense, Cat.”
“You’re the queen’s son?” I asked.
Arlo went rigid in the watery grip that burbled in the silence.
The queen was Arlo’s mother.
He was not just a captain.
He was a noble.
“Oh.” The queen reveled. She looked down at me, still on the ground.
“He didn’t tell you. How interesting. Probably because he’s been running from me ever since the incident with his wife.
He’s always been like that. Avoidant. But enough chit-chat.
I look forward to hearing the full story at Whiterok.
” The queen snapped her fingers and pointed to me.
In a breath, frigid water wrapped around me, squeezing hard.
Shoving back at the water, I screamed, “Let me go! Let me bloody go!”
“Cat, dear, a little peace and quiet, please. We don’t need any looky-loos.”
Calypstra nodded, and water snapped in front of my mouth, splashing up my nose. A matching form was spinning across Arlo’s face too.
“Ah, much better. Well, now that we have both the lady and my son, we need to expedite things a bit. Catarina, I’ll have a carriage for you out front in five minutes.
My guards will escort these two to Whiterok, where we can deal with family matters a little more privately.
Then, Cat, go back to that siren nest, fuck him until he can’t think straight, and lead him by his emptied balls into battle. ”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Calypstra answered, resolute.
“And Catarina …” The queen paused. Her yellow eyes seared. “Remember, if these two don’t make it to Whiterok, if they escape by some strange coincidence, my little granddaughter will be in grave danger.”
***
Calypstra dragged us in watered shackles to a dark alley. A horse-drawn carriage pulled up. It was made of metal with bars over its windows. Behind me rose Blackthorn Castle in shadowy stone.
Calypstra removed the water-gag from Arlo’s mouth.
“Why are you doing this?” he gasped.
“Cate.” She paused, her eyes searching him. “To keep her safe, I have to do as she says. Otherwise I would never do this, I love—” She looked at me, agony and jealousy burning in her black eyes.
It all made sense.
She watched us fall for one another. That look of disgust on her face whenever I neared wasn’t hatred. It was jealousy.
“Ced is caring for Cate though,” Arlo said.
Then it fully hit me, like the cold, hard sea that night I nearly drowned.
The queen. Cedric. Arlo. Why the sirens’ disappearances seemed to point back to Whiterok, to Cedric. Cedric was behind everything, along with his mother.
“He is as much your mother’s slave as I.” Calypstra’s tone was different now with Arlo. Softer. Sadder.
“No. He promised to keep her safe,” Arlo said.
“He does, we both do. As long as we do as she says. This is what I was trying to avoid, because now that will include you.” Calypstra, Catarina, whoever she was, stood so near Arlo it made me want to vomit.
She tried to kill me.
She killed his entire crew.
She was a monster.
But now she looked like a woman, broken before a man she ferociously loved.
Calypstra tore off a piece of fabric from the hem of the black dress she wore and brought it to Arlo’s mouth.
“I watched her kill you,” Arlo stammered.
“The sirens brought me back to life. But nothing could keep me from our daughter.” Her voice caught painfully on the word our.
“It wasn’t long until the queen caught me visiting her.
She held Cate over my head. She made me use my newfound powers to help her manipulate the young siren leader into starting a war with King Eadric. Now her trap is set.”
Hylos would attack Oakhaven and fall into the queen’s trap. He would give them reason to take more sirens. But for what?
They gave her another chance at life, another chance to see her daughter. Nymphaea saved her! She betrayed them all to do the queen’s bidding instead of trying to stop her. Instead of fighting.
I struggled against the water over my mouth, wanting to call her every nasty word I knew. The sirens saved her.
She turned on me, hatred burning in her eyes. With a movement of her hand and a sickening clamor of song, the water around my mouth swallowed my skull. I floundered under the weight. The water forced its way into my nose and mouth, swirling in my ears.
Arlo’s voice was distant and rounded. “Catarina, stop, please.”
The water fell from engulfing my head and splashed around me. The cold Oakhaven wind nipped at my cheeks.
She turned back to Arlo, “I didn’t know you were the captain of that ship, Arlo.
Ced’s kept you a secret since the day you left.
If I’d known, I never would have sent the sirens to it.
Even if the queen told me to.” She hardened.
“When I read the crew’s minds, I realized they knew your true identity.
The queen’s son in hiding. I kept it a secret for as long as I could.
Kept the other sirens away from their minds as well as yours.
But Hylos, he was getting impatient, and it was only a matter of time before he sent someone else to wade through their thoughts if I kept coming up empty-handed.
They would have learned who you really were.
I had to—I had to kill them. To keep your identity safe. ”
I almost felt sorry for her.
But the look on Arlo’s face was pure hatred. “You’re a fucking monster.”
Calypstra’s mask of misery returned. She nodded affirmatively, agreeing, and worked the fabric over his mouth.
He didn’t fight her, just glared as she tied it over his head.
She turned to me. “Stand up, Princess.”
I caught my breath and spat at her black-finned feet. “I am not a fucking princess.” She turned and slapped me hard across the face.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
My cheek burned and I gasped while staggering to my feet, but her water seized me instead, pulling me inches from her face.
Calypstra smiled, exposing her sharp canines.
“That’s right. You’re not a princess. You. Are. Nothing.”
Through the pain and blood trickling from the corner of my mouth, I forced a smile. “Yeah well, at least I’m not a jealous fucking bitch.”
Hard-faced, Calypstra tied the gag around my face tightly.
Arlo and I rattled in the carriage at a repetitive tempo that drove me mad.
Both gagged and bound, we couldn’t speak.
But all I wanted to do was ask him question after question.
An off-timed bump in the road shattered the percussive pace, slamming me into Arlo, who didn’t even look at me. As if I was the liar.
But he was. I’d told him exactly who I was.
I was honest, and he still deceived me. I re-thought every interaction, searching for missed signs.
Each time I’d known unsaid words lingered on his lips.
How he flinched at learning Cedric was my betrothed.
Maybe I was a fool for not piecing it together sooner, but he was in the wrong for not telling me.
The most mind-bending piece was that I, of all people, would have understood wanting to be someone else.
It wasn’t long until the night’s ocean breeze found us.
This was the same journey I had taken what felt like a lifetime ago.
Highthorn to Gyldmare, then to Whiterok.
Part would be by land, the other by sea.
A small hope sang through me. When we crossed the ocean, maybe the sirens would find me.
Return me to what I’d abandoned. Take me back to my brother.
My gut knotted. Nymphaea brought those to the sea to be saved, and I had rejected that salvation. Fate, the Guardians, whoever, had hand-delivered me to my brother, and I left him.
The carriage stopped. Instead of a boat across the Holy Mother’s body, the sight that greeted us was a burly man throwing open the carriage doors.
A glow of red-orange light radiated high in the black night sky, flickering off a metal surface toward the crashing waves.
It was a lighthouse. Without a word, the man hauled us out, slapped shackles on our wrists, and dragged us inside.