A Symphony of Sirens (Spellsinger Book 2)

by Amy Sumida

  He screamed, clawing at his ears as the rest of us watched with calm satisfaction. The women surrounded him, staring at their tormentor as they took their own justice. Their voices rose together, blending in perfect harmony. Tragically haunting; their song would stay with me forever. I knew it would become a soundtrack for my dreams, and possibly, even my nightmares. The sirens wove their curse around Thomas until he set his glowing hand to his own chest. The magic he'd intended to kill me with, he used against himself. Even more fitting than fire, I suppose.

  The symphony softened into a humming whisper, and then to silence. I stood slowly and went to stand beside my mother. Kalliope took my left hand and Aunt Aoide took my right, completing the circle of sirens around Thomas. His frozen corpse screamed silently up at us and we –the freed sirens and I– smiled down at him.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  My mother turned to me and pulled me into a hug. I held tight as the other sirens closed in around us, sobbing together in relief. We finally broke apart, and I looked over to see the four men waiting patiently for us, soft smiles on their faces, except for Cerberus, who was swiping at his eyes. Torin came forward, stopping to pick up the knife my mother had dropped and handed the blade to me.

  “I think your father would appreciate a trophy.” Torin looked pointedly to Thomas's corpse. “A little piece of vengeance to grasp in his hand.”

  “Dad,” I whispered as I turned to my mother. “Do you know where he is?”

  “He's just down that tunnel,” my mother said, her eyes shaky around the edges.

  “Is he alright?” I asked as I took the knife from Torin.

  “Thomas liked to taunt your father,” Aoide growled. “He'd take Kalliope to visit Robert, and he would . . .” Aoide's hand went gently to her sister's shoulder. “Rob will understand, Kalli. Nothing you did was done willingly.”

  “I remember his face,” Mom whispered to her sister. “It destroyed him.”

  “You give him far too little credit,” Aoide said sternly. “You married one of the most honorable men I've ever known. He will not turn his back on you over another man's treachery.”

  Fury flooded my veins and I began to shake. I could feel the magic rising inside me, and for a moment, I was afraid I'd be unable to control it. I closed my eyes against the flood of tears and power, searching for the strength to resist them. Then I felt Torin's hand slip into mine. He grounded me; his magic eased mine away, and I sighed in relief. I looked up at him and nodded in gratitude as I wiped away the tears. Then I handed the knife to my mother.

  “I recommend his heart,” I said calmly to her. “But you know Dad best. Take him whatever will bring him the most satisfaction.”

  Kalliope's eyes cleared, her shoulders straightened, and she smiled viciously. Mom bent over Thomas's frozen body, lifted the knife, and slammed it down into his chest. We all bore silent witness as she cut Thomas's frozen heart free of his body, and then lifted it triumphantly for all of us to see. She weighed it in her hand, considering it with narrowed eyes.

  “Humph”–she grimaced–“I thought it would be black.”

  The other sirens snickered.

  “Let's go free your father and Nigel,” Mom said to me.

  “Nigel?” I blinked in surprise. “Nigel is here too?”

  “Nigel suspected something was up with Thomas,” my Aunt Lina said. “He confronted him, and they fought. Thomas won, but couldn't bring himself to kill Nigel. So, he brought him here.”

  “I suppose even Thomas had his limits,” I ground out. “Nigel is innocent in Bettina's death, no matter how you look at it.”

  “Limits?” Aunt Fatima laughed. “Thomas planned on pinning our disappearances on Nigel. The bastard was keeping Nigel in order to use him as a scapegoat with the Coven.”

  “They would have executed him,” I growled.

  “Yeah, I said he wouldn't kill Nigel,” Lina muttered, “but I never said he had a problem with other people killing him.”

  “We should have killed him slower. Damn him to all the hells!” I kicked Thomas's corpse, ice shattering and splintering off in a violent spray.

  “Nigel's in the cell beside your father's.” Kalliope bent over and fished around in Thomas's pocket.

  The fabric crackled, ice falling away as Mom jerked a set of keys free –and that's what Thomas had intended to do to me; freeze me to death. Sweet gods, his heartbreak had twisted him. This man had played with me when I was a child. One of my very first memories was of him holding me above his head and smiling up at me. He was family to me, and the loss of his lover had turned him into an enemy . . . into a monster. I stared at his corpse, searing its image into my memories. I would use this moment. Every time I started to slip into the relic's cold reasoning, I would recall Thomas's frozen body. I would let it warm me, and bring me back to myself.

  “Let's go free my father and uncle.” I waved my hand forward. “Lead the way, ladies.”

  Torin took my hand as we strode through a tunnel after the sirens. Behind us came Cerberus, Banning, and Declan, all with the satisfied steps of conquering heroes. We'd done it. It was over; my family was safe, and we could finally get them home. All of them.

  “Kalli,” my father cried brokenly.

  He was sitting in a small cell, not even a blanket for warmth. He looked like someone had beaten him; scabbed wounds all over his body, blood caked on his skin, his clothing torn and filthy. I couldn't comprehend at first why he hadn't lit a fire, or even simply freed himself. My father was a powerful witch; there were very few cells in the human world that could hold him. But then I saw the brown stains on the frozen bars: blood. Thomas had used my father's blood to bind his magic. It was a Coven trick, one they employed to restrain powerful criminals. Dad wouldn't have been able to cast anything, not even a spell to heal his wounds. He looked near death, but he surged to his feet as soon as he saw my mother. Nigel, one cell over, stood a little more slowly. His bars were smeared with blood too.

  “Elaria?” Nigel asked. “Cerberus? Is Thomas . . .?”

  “Dead,” Kalliope growled. “We killed him”–she turned to look at me with pride–“with help from Elaria and her friends.”

  “El,” my father said brokenly. “Gods, it's good to see you, sweetheart.”

  My mother unlocked Dad's cell. There was no flash or any indication of Thomas's spell breaking, and I realized it was because the spells had all fallen when Tom died. Most spells need life energy to sustain them; so, when the source of that energy dies, they'll die too. My father and Nigel simply hadn't noticed, probably due to their weakened state.

  Mom handed the keys to Aoide so she could free Nigel. Father threw the barred door open and pulled Mom into his arms. She hugged him back, holding Thomas's heart away from them as if she didn't want to sully the moment with its proximity.

  “Robert,” she whispered, “I'm so sorry.”

  “Don't,” Dad cut her off. “Don't ever apologize for what my traitorous friend did to you. All of that died with him.”

  “That was his shame, Kalliope,” Nigel added, “not yours. Never yours. In my eyes, you will always be as pure and perfect as the day Robert first introduced us.”

  “Thank you, Nigel,” Mom said, though she couldn't meet his stare. “But, Robert–”

  “Perfect,” Dad repeated Nigel's sentiment, “you're ever perfect to me, darling. And I swear I shall never allow such filth to touch you again. I'm the one who should beg your forgiveness. This is on my shoulders; he was my friend. I trusted him.”

  “We all trusted him, Dad,” I said gently. “It isn't your fault either.”

  “Elaria's right,” Mom declared. “We're not going to allow him to affect us beyond this moment. The blame is upon his soul alone, the evil lies in his heart.” She held up Thomas's heart. “For you, my love.”

  My father's jaw clenched as he took the thawing piece of flesh. It dripped blood onto the stone floor and over his bare feet. He didn't care. Robert Scorcher lifted that heart
like a gory prize of war and smiled in satisfaction.

  “You are a magnificent woman,” he said to my mother.

  “It was our daughter who suggested it.” Mom smiled proudly.

  Dad turned to me and nodded as if he had expected nothing less. “You always did have the very best instincts, Ellie-Phant.”

  “Torin actually urged me to bring you a trophy,” I protested, “I only suggested what Mom should take.”

  “King Torin,” Dad nodded his gratitude to Torin, and Torin nodded back.

  “Just do it, Robert,” Nigel snarled. “And then I shall scatter those foul ashes to the four winds.”

  “A witch isn't truly dead until you take his heart.” My father hefted the cold thing in his hand. “Removing it is best, burning is better, and if you scatter those ashes . . .”

  “The mother fucker will never rise again,” Nigel finished viciously.

  “Damn, Nigel”–I looked at him in surprise–“I didn't think you had it in you.”

  “What? Fury?” Nigel lifted a dark brow. “Torture someone long enough, and they will respond in kind.”

  “No, not fury.” I chuckled. “Bad language. I never thought I'd see the day you resorted to such common words.”

  Nigel cracked a grin. “Quite so, Elaria dear. I must have forgotten myself momentarily.” He bowed. “Thank you for your assistance, all of you. And now, if you don't mind, Robert and I shall make sure this mother fucking, son of a gods-damned, herpes-ridden harpy never rises to befoul this beautiful Earth again.”

  “Here! Here!” Cerberus shouted. “Let's burn the witch!”

  Robert and Nigel flinched.

  “Watch it with that line,” I growled at Cerberus.

  “Sorry.” Cerberus looked instantly cowed. “I got carried away.”

  “And so shall Thomas.” Nigel nodded to Robert. “May he never find peace.”

  My father spoke a few incoherent words, and Thomas's heart burst into flames. It burned white hot, right in my father's palm, but the heat didn't affect him. It was his fire after all. It burned until the heart blackened, turned white, and then crumbled to ash. Robert faced his only best friend, and carefully poured that ash into Nigel's hands. Nigel nodded and headed out of the room.

  It was a somber procession out to the crumbled courtyard. We passed Thomas's body along the way. It had suffered the same fate as its heart and was nothing but a pile of cinders. Declan walked through them, kicking them apart as he went. It made the sirens smile, and they all followed his lead, tromping over the dust of their enemy. I gave Declan a little nod of approval, and he winked at me.

  We stepped out of the fortress into crisp, mountain air. Declan and the sirens shuffled their feet over the stone, scraping Thomas off their shoes with glee. Nigel, up ahead of us, paused briefly when he saw the state of the outer wall. He glanced back at me, and I smiled wickedly. Nigel smirked and chuckled, then lifted his hands and began to chant.

  The ashes of Thomas's evil heart lifted in a sudden breeze: four of them, to be precise. Cinders flowed in spirals, up from Nigel's palm, and off into four directions. Scattered around the world to never be united again. A sense of satisfaction settled over our assemblage.

  “Ding dong, the witch is dead,” I whispered.

  “Oh, you can say shit like that, but I can't mention burning?” Cerberus huffed.

  “You have to time your jokes perfectly, darling.” Kalliope gave Cerberus's massive bicep a pat. “Timing is everything.”

  “And Thomas's time is past,” Nigel declared triumphantly.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The Coven and all of our assorted allies were notified that the sirens had been found and Thomas Frost was dead. Out of the numerous dramatic reactions to this news, Freya's was the most surprising to me. She was extremely disappointed to not be included in the “storming of Frost Fortress” as she called it. I'm assuming that Cerberus had given her elaborate descriptions of his heroic escapade. Freya was beyond jealous; immortality can get so boring.

  Another group had a similar reaction to Freya's, but it wasn't all that surprising. In fact, I felt a little guilty over not notifying them before we went on our rescue mission. But there just hadn't been time to call them in, and then wait for them to arrive before we left to save the sirens. Really, how could anyone expect me to sit around waiting while my parents were in jeopardy? But these weren't just any people, they were the rare beings who shared a race with me.

  The Spellsingers.

  Spellsingers are, by their very nature, a solitary lot. They don't generally work together, but family is a different matter entirely, and every spellsinger was born of a siren. They were all family, and they were all pissed the hell off for not being allowed to get their own little piece of vengeance upon a man who had dared to harm their mothers, sisters, and aunts. There was a reason why no other siren-related deaths had been avenged previously. If the power of the sirens didn't scare you off, the idea of attracting the fatal attention of their spellsinger children did. You didn't fuck with sirens without facing the wrath of spellsingers. And I had denied my fellow spellsingers their due wrath.

  All five of them were waiting for us on the beach of Pyrosvesti.

  “Oh, fuck me furiously with a fairy wand,” I snarled when I saw them.

  Declan was the only one amused by my creative cursing. The rest of our group knew how serious this was . . . and how badly I had screwed up.

  I leaned heavily on the boat's railing and hung my head in shame. Standing right in the middle of the spellsingers was my Aunt Adelaid, her arms crossed and her expression conveying extreme annoyance. An annoyed Adelaid usually meant death for some poor fool. One guess who that fool would be.

  Standing beside Aunt Addy was Uncle Eilener, the Sinker of Continents. Okay, only the one continent, but still, I think he warranted the title. He was also the only male spellsinger ever born. Uncle Eilener looked tougher than the last time I'd seen him, but that could have been due to his new tattoo . . . on his face. I don't know how he made a bass clef look so sinister, but he did.

  Around the elder two spellsingers, stood my Aunts: Genevieve, Alexandra, and Daphne. They may not have looked as menacing as Adelaid or Eilener, but I knew what laid beneath their sweet-looking facades. These women were ruthless. Waiting on the beach for me, was nearly the entire collection of the most fearsome supernaturals of the Beneath. The only comfort was that I was one of them.

  “I recognize Adelaid, but who are the others?” Torin asked.

  “Spellsingers,” Cerberus said grimly.

  “All of them?” Banning asked.

  “All of them!” Kalliope squealed in delight, then started waving excitedly to our family.

  “Aunt Addy!” Aoide shouted, adding her wave to Mom's. “Eilener! Brother, I'm here! We're okay.”

  “Daphne!” Fatima called out to her daughter. “Daphne, I'm alright, darling! Ellie saved us!”

  “Alexandra!”

  “Gen!”

  The spellsingers lost their grim looks as their mothers, aunts, and sisters cried out to them. They smiled and waved back, Daphne even started to sob in relief, but I wasn't dumb enough to think they were letting me off the hook because of a few sweet sentiments.

  “You still got that bit of fairy flimflam?” Dad whispered to me.

  “You mean the Shining One traveling stone?” I asked him.

  “Yep, the rock that can get you out of a hard place.” Dad nodded.

  “Of course I have it.”

  “Use it, Ellie-phant,” Dad said. “Get the fuck out of here . . . now.”

  “You don't think that will anger them even more?” I asked him.

  “Your mother will calm them down.” Dad turned and hugged me. “The smartest, most long-lived soldier is the one who knows when to retreat.”

  My mother overheard us. Her smile disappeared as she turned to face me. “Listen to your father, sweetheart. Take your fairy kings and run.”

  “You got your stone?�
�� I asked Cer.

  He nodded.

  “Grab Banning; I'm not leaving you two here to take the heat for me.”

  Cerberus nodded again and eased closer to the blooder.

  “I do not run away from a fight”–Torin crossed his arms over his chest–“not any fight. I'm a Shining One king, I can handle a few spellsingers.”

  “I think it might be fun,” Declan added with a smirk.

  “Those are not our enemies,” I growled at them. “That's my family over there –the only members of my very rare race. I don't actually want to fight them.”

  “Time to leave,” Aoide said out of the side of her mouth.

  We were nearing the dock fast.

  “Come on, Onyx.” I held out my hand to Torin. “I'll make it up to you.”

  “I'd like to meet the rest of your family.” Torin lowered his arms and took my hand, but pouted as he did so.

  “Not today, you don't,” my mother said firmly. “Those spellsingers are looking for someone to vent their frustration on. It's best if we don't give them any options.”

  “If you insist, Lady Kalliope.” Torin inclined his head regally.

  “Always bow to the wisdom of a beautiful woman,” Declan agreed. “Or kneel, if it gets you a better angle.”

  “Told you he's a pervert,” Dad muttered to me.

  “Thank you for your help, both of you,” Mom said before Declan got himself into trouble with my father. “Now get my daughter out of here.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Torin took my hand.

  “As you wish, Madam Siren,” Declan took out his own traveling stone.

  I nodded to Cerberus, and we all used our stones to get as far away from my family as possible.

  Chapter Forty-Five