Tears stung my eyes, but they didn’t fall.
On Aven’s other side sat who must have been the merrow Lord, judging by the fangs and the crystal-clear stone on his collar, whose lip curled at the sight of me like I was a particular nasty bug he’d found on the bottom of his shoe, and on Marassa’s left Raeth lounged in a chair watching with a look of utter boredom. A fresh wave of horror and shock rattled through me and I stared at him for longer than I should have.
He sat with the High Court.
Raeth.
Tiraethsi.
Lord Tiraethsi.
My questions about him tripled in an instant—did I risk trusting him, or did I hope and pray that Aven could pull off whatever he had planned? I trusted him to do everything in his power. I saw the controlled fury in his eyes, the desire to step in. But from all I’d been told about the Queen, and all I’d seen when she looked on Aven before, I wasn’t sure she would allow him to do anything that could help me. Raeth may be my only chance. I wasn’t going to go to the merrow Lord, with his bloodthirsty eyes and uneven fangs.
Aven had said never to go near a siren. That they would do nothing but manipulate and hurt me. Raeth had said nothing to make me believe otherwise. Maybe it was to end any fight I’d instigate before it started. Some game the siren was playing.
But Aven had also said to do whatever I needed to do to survive. If he couldn’t help me I’d have to find someone else who could.
Marassa looked at me with a cool smile. “Hania, our dear Lord Aven’s pet—or is it companion?” A muscle in Aven’s jaw twitched but he kept quiet.
I lifted my chin again. “I’m no one’s pet.”
The guard slammed the shaft of the spear across my shoulder blades, sending me pitching forward. With my arms bound I had nothing to catch myself and twisted an elbow around to keep from striking the floor face-first. “You will refer to your Queen as such,” he ordered.
Marassa held up one hand, silencing him. “I’m not her Queen. Not yet. Tell me, Hania, do you know of our Court’s history with humans?”
“I do,” I answered.
“Then you know that humans here pay for their ancestors’ mistakes.”
“My ancestors may have fought in the war, but I had no part in it.”
“Oh, but as their kin the debt falls to you. It hasn’t yet been repaid. So I ask you now, little girl, will you pay it in sweat or blood?”
I swallowed hard, looking from her, to Aven, to Raeth, and back again. Both Lords had given the same advice—choose slavery rather than execution. Work and fight another day rather than die now. I’d be a slave, but I’d be closer to Tobin. And I’d be breathing. I was no use to him dead.
At my hesitation, the point of the guard’s spear pricked the back of my neck. “Sweat,” I said. The word felt heavy on my tongue, but I forced it out. “I’ll work.” And find a way to make you feel whatever my brother has.
Marassa frowned. “I was hoping for more of a fight, with that tongue of yours. Perhaps the dark worked a bit too well. Very well. Lords, would any of you have her, or shall we send her to the public to fight over?”
My heart tripped over itself, and I watched Aven, begging him to speak. The instant before he did felt like hours.
“I’ve had her all this time,” he said, and as their attention turned to him the storm in his eyes vanished. The nonchalance in his voice was faultless. “I wouldn’t mind keeping her.”
“Oh, but wouldn’t it be more fun to share?” Raeth asked, a silky drawl that sent goosebumps racing along my arms.
Marassa laughed. “You two can’t stand to see the other have anything he wants, can you? Are you interested in the girl, Tiraethsi?”
The quick scan of Raeth’s eyes on me made me want to cover myself, though I was fully clothed in the modest dress Ellesaeah had given me, ruined now as it was. “I may be.”
Aven visibly bristled. “I brought her here. I have the right to her.”
The right to her. Like I was an object.
Playing a part, I reminded myself. Acting the expected role of Lord to give me a better chance. He’d never think that, though my heart trembled a little at hearing him say it.
“I must point out, Lord Aven, that you only have the right should Our Queen will it,” the merrow Lord interjected. His voice matched his face: cruel and unnatural. Too human to come out of a mouth filled with those yellowed fangs but ringing of cold power. “All in this Court are hers.”
All eyes turned to Marassa, who made a show of thinking, stroking her chin, though her lips curled in a smile long before she voiced her thoughts. “I believe Hania here should see all our Court has to offer. She’s spent time with a selkie already. Maybe a siren will be able to teach her the rights and wrongs of her people.”
Everything inside me dropped to the floor like rocks. Some terrible flash of horror flitted across Aven’s face before he hid it, but I was sure mine was written in my expression. I watched as Raeth sat a fraction straighter and beckoned to me. When I didn’t move, the guard shoved me forward again, and I staggered to my feet and across the room toward him.
I didn’t want to go. I wanted to turn and run.
When I glanced back, the spear was level with my heart.
Every step made my stomach sink lower. He studied me again, slowly, leisurely, and I curled my hands into fists behind my back. If I could have struck him I would have, but even if my hands hadn’t been bound I’d be dead on the spot.
Raeth spun one finger in the air, a silent cue, and I obediently turned a slow circle. A soft snicker rose up from the guard but went ignored. When I was facing him again, a dark smile spread across his face and he nodded. “A little bit of work and she’ll do nicely. A bath, a good meal, and some proper clothes first, of course. You must take better care of your pets, Aven.” I gritted my teeth to stop a sharp retort from coming out. One groomed eyebrow quirked upwards. “Do you have something to say?”
His true colors, or an act, like Aven? I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t want to trust him, but either way it wouldn’t do well to act out. If he was intending on helping me—whatever his reason—the wrong attitude could prompt Marassa to demand punishment. “No, Lord.”
“Good.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Get her cleaned up before she goes to the Nest. I don’t want it smelling like her.”
The guard stepped up and grabbed my arm, hauling me away. I cast Aven a glance in the second I had, and he returned it, holding my gaze as I was shoved through a side door.
Another long, tense walk. The guard left me unbound in an open, pretty bathing room with a pair of women in worn gray gowns who kept their gazes averted. They drew a warm bath and helped me less than courteously into it.
They didn’t speak as they cleaned the blood and dirt and filth from me.
I didn’t speak, either. I wanted the bath to be a relief, but it wasn’t. I was numb from head to toe, mind engrossed in the moment I’d failed my first task. All I’d had to do was stay with Aven. Do whatever kept me with him.
What had I done? Given myself into the service of a siren. A siren Aven didn’t like, if Marassa’s comment was any evidence. Maybe that was the reason Raeth bothered with me at all—to spite Aven.
I hadn’t even struggled. I hadn’t protested or…done anything. I’d walked to Raeth and let it happen.
I was hoping for more of a fight, Marassa had said. Maybe the dark worked a bit too well.
Maybe it had. Maybe it had broken me.
I couldn’t find the energy to move or to think of what to do next. How could I come all this way, survived through so much, and be broken by their first try?
I closed my eyes against the steam floating in swirls around me, and saw Tobin’s face behind my eyelids. Tobin laughing, Tobin focused on his work, Tobin angry, Tobin afraid.
Not yet, I’d swore. Maybe they’d broken me today, but tomorrow I’d be fixed.
And I’d give them a hell of a fight if they tried to break me again.
The women pulled me from the bath too soon. I stood in silence as they dried me. Dressed my wounds. Placed a thin, plain dress on me. Led me away.
The bathing room joined with another, just as large but lined with beds rather than tubs. Rows of simple, small beds, curtains separating each. I didn’t take note of how many were occupied or consider where in the Eyes we might be or what danger might come here. I collapsed into the bed they stopped at, and sleep dragged me into nothingness in seconds.
I didn’t dream. I was too tired. I floated in the empty before something, some faint sensation from the real world, drew me into consciousness.
It was a touch. A faint, gentle touch. Something stroking along my hand, my fingers. I forced my eyes open, and my vision settled on my hand, someone else’s fingers intertwined with mine. Fair, slender fingers. A thumb brushed my skin in a slow rhythm.
My heart leapt into my throat, the last tendrils of sleep vanishing, and I jerked my head to see Aven’s face. He shushed me before I could speak, eyes wide.
“I can’t stay long,” he whispered. “I needed to see you before…” He left it unspoken, but I knew what he meant. Before Raeth came for me.
I tried to push myself up with my free hand, but pain lanced through my chest and I dropped with a sharp gasp. Aven’s eyes were deep and worried as he watched. Helpless. I closed my eyes and controlled every breath, trying to minimize the stabbing sensation that went along with each one. “You didn’t come,” I said. No, that wasn’t what I wanted to say to him. I wanted to kiss him again, to hug him, to tell him I knew he was doing everything he could and it was alright. But something different poured from me, “I thought you would come, or Moray, or…but you didn’t, and it was so dark, and it hurt—”
He silenced me with his lips on mine, as feather-soft as that first kiss in the grove with the summer-drifters. Brief, only enough to quiet me. When he pulled back it was only a fraction, and he braced his forehead against mine gently. Tears welled in my eyes and he brushed one away. “I’m sorry, Hania,” he breathed. The ache in his voice told me they weren’t just words. Of course, they weren’t, this was Aven. My selkie. I didn’t doubt him, not really. “I’m so sorry. I tried—I can’t tell you all the things I tried. And I’m going to kill Raeth for this.”
I pushed the tears aside. I was done crying. I wasn’t going to have Aven to protect me every step of the way anymore, I’d do it myself. “How long was I down there?”
“Two days.”
I closed my eyes while I counted how long I’d been here. How much longer Tobin might have left. I didn’t have a good guess. “How bad is he? Raeth?”
“Do you remember what I told you about sirens?” I nodded. I didn’t need to hear more. “You’ll be with the slaves, and able to look for your brother. Just…be so much more careful. I don’t know if you can avoid being alone with him, but if you can, do. I’ll get you out as soon as possible, but the law is strict.”
“Can you get me out?”
He sighed and confessed, “I don’t know. I’m doing everything in my power, Hania, I swear. I need you to trust me. Please.” It was a soft, broken plea that made my heart crack in two, and I nodded.
I’d never seen Aven look so shaken. Even when he’d been poisoned, even imprisoned, even beaten, he’d always kept some semblance of pride and power to him, faint as it might have been. Now he looked shattered. Like a fallen, mourning god. I pushed a stray lock of dark hair from his face and traced the line of his jaw. Memorizing every feature before he had to go. I didn’t know when I’d see him next. “I trust you, Aven.”
He kissed me again, gentle, avoiding all my hurts, but broke it too soon. “Rest. Get your strength up. And be safe, please. Do whatever you need to stay alive until I can get back to you.”
I was so worn and exhausted. Fingers of emptiness were tugging at me again, beckoning me to the escape of sleep. I tightened my grip on his hand, clinging to it. I didn’t want to go yet. But he ran his fingers through my hair, soothing strokes to lull me, and I sank down into nothing.
When I woke he was gone. The room was silent, empty. A warm, welcoming smell hit me and reminded me of my aching, empty stomach. A tray had been left beside the bed—water, bread, a bowl of soup. I snatched it and managed to sit upright. I hardly tasted anything; I devoured the food as quick as possible and then drank every last drop of water.
Belly full—I’d regret the amount and speed later, but for the moment it was more than satisfying—I settled into the thin, rough covers and let sleep take me again.
The third time I woke, I was greeted by another servant woman. “Up, girl,” she said the second I opened my eyes.
I ignored her, taking stock of every inch of myself. My head felt clearer and lighter than it had in days. The various points of pain scattered over me were present but dulled. The gnawing hunger and thirst had gone. In all, I felt about a thousand times better. Physically, at least. Emotionally, I knew I was on a knife’s edge. As long as I kept my balance I’d be alright, but that was easier said than done.
Better physically was still better, and it was a step I needed. I stretched, winced at the pull in my wounds, and sat up. She watched me with a stony expression, displeased with her current task. “Where’s Raeth?” I asked.
“The Lord has requested you be prepared and taken to the Nest. The time he’s so graciously granted you to recover is over.”
Whatever it took to survive before Aven got to me. If that meant being the model slave to the Lord of Sirens, I’d do it. I took a breath to steel myself and stood. The woman gestured to a gown draped across the foot of the bed, her message clear: change.
Weeks ago, I might have balked at dressing before a stranger, even a woman, but the Realm of Tides seemed intent on beating that inhibition out of me. I studied the dress—long and jet black, a shiny material that reminded me of a starry sky in the candlelight. When I lifted it, I found it was fine but strong, luxuriously soft. A woven gold belt cinched it at the waist, matched by decorative pieces at each shoulder made in the likeness of clusters of scales. I stripped from the gown the other women had put me in and slipped into the new one, letting it settle over me. I was sure it was the finest dress I’d ever touched in my life, much less worn, and part of me twisted with resentment at the circumstances.
It was also the strangest and most revealing dress I’d ever worn—it was sleeveless, the back was low, almost to my waist, and a long slit in the skirt left my leg visible to the hip. It was loose and light, wonderful for summer weather, though in this high mountain Court that summer weather was fleeting. It took only minutes for the beginnings of a chill to seep through the stone floor into my bare feet.
The woman looked me over twice, made an expression as if she wasn’t quite pleased but decided against doing anything about it, and turned to the door. “Follow me.”
I didn’t hesitate to obey. Every step ached but didn’t crack like before. I could feel my strength gathering. “Where are we going?” I asked as we headed deeper into the interconnected rooms.
She didn’t answer, and we’d moved through several rooms, some empty and others occupied by a scattering of servants. Mostly women, a few men, all busy and with their heads down. Some cast us hesitant, curious glances as we passed but none spoke. “The Nest,” she said, turning a corner through a short, narrow hallway and into another room. We passed through that one as well.
“The Nest?” The faint burn in my ribs resurfaced with all this walking; I made a vow to lie down as soon as I could.
She gave an irritated grumble at the question, but I couldn’t help that I was human and didn’t know their Court. “Your new home.” She stopped in front of a plain wooden door, unremarkable and hiding gods knew what terrible things.
I wiped my palms on the beautiful cloth of my skirt. “This is where servants live?”
“Only Lord Tiraethsi’s favorites, girl, and you’d do best to remember it. He did you an honor, choosing to bring you here. I wouldn’t ha
ve dreamed of it myself. Don’t look down on it or I’m sure he’ll take it away.”
Of course he would. I didn’t know how much I’d call it an honor, but I knew one wrong step could land me back in the dark. Or worse, if there was such a thing. I nodded and took a deep breath, straightening my spine. Summer in her hair and steel in her spine, Aven had said about me. If I could walk up to a selkie and demand his help, I could walk into a room full of servants and keep them from killing me.
I didn’t look back. There was no going back, and no point in thinking about it. What was done was done, and I needed to adapt or die. I pushed the door open and stepped into my new home.
The Nest wasn’t worse than the dark, but it wasn’t any home. It was as lavish as I had expected of a Lord’s personal servants’ quarters, draped in silken curtains and gleaming with sunlight from a full wall of windows, but it was cold. Not in the same way as the dark, damp prison: the chill didn’t seep into my bones. It was a cold spawned by a lack of belonging. Every girl around me radiated danger and hatred, either pointedly ignoring or casting me icy looks, and they were little better around each other. I had hoped to find them joined together by their position, some makeshift family surviving together, but that wasn’t the case. I could tell on a glance they were no less cutthroat and competitive than any other tidespeople.
“You look scared out of your wits, little human,” a voice said beside me. I stiffened and glanced to the siren who stood there. Her dark eyes, a near-charcoal shade that matched her silky skin, swept over me, distant and calculating. There was no sympathy in her face, only curiosity. I returned the stare.
Like everybody else here she was beautiful. Sleek and coolly stunning, like a marble statue, clad in the same black gown as I and the others. It did nothing to hide her figure, one I suspected had gained her Raeth’s attention in the first place, and I found myself tugging at the folds of my dress to better cover myself. When I found no voice to respond to her, she laughed and swept a lock of snow-white hair from her eyes. “I won’t bite.”
Tide Page 28