Dark Siren

by Ashley, Eden

  She lifted the heavy volume from his lap. “That’s okay. Maybe there’s something we can look at.”

  “You mean like maps or pictures?”

  “Yeah.”

  The pages were so fragile with age; it took time to gently turn each one. But Kali had guessed right. There were lots of pictures. Most were portraits of fearsome men. Beneath the photos were dates and additional script that perhaps detailed various exploits in each man’s history.

  Max pointed. “That guy could be Genghis Khan…”

  She nodded and kept flipping pages. The maps had shaded areas or colored lines connecting various points in a geographic region. There were drawings of battles, weapons, decapitations, raids, hangings, villages on fire, etc. “I think this is a catalogue of historical conquerors.” She pointed at a drawing. “Napoleon is recognizable anywhere.”

  “We passed the dude that nuked the Aztecs too.”

  “Max, there was no nuking in the 1500s.”

  “This is cool! Keep going.” Max reached over and turned the page. As Kali’s eyes fell to the next image, all the breath in her lungs expelled in a defined whoosh.

  The picture was the reproduction of a crude painting. A warrior in black armor sat atop a large mount of the same color. It was the same as in her dreams. Only this time, the rider was helmetless. She saw him clearly, walking toward her in the snow, his dark hair flying wild and shapeless in the wind. The horseman’s eyes glowed in the unusual manner of chrysoprase, leaping out from the weathered canvas page. Those eyes were unmistakable. And Kali had seen them only on one person in her lifetime.

  There was a date beneath the picture: 1326 A.D-?

  She found her voice. “I need to know what this says.”

  Max’s eyes were wide and uncertain. Kali couldn’t blame the kid. She probably looked pretty freaked out. She certainly felt pretty freaked out.

  “S-sorry. This is the reference section. You can’t check these jewels out.”

  “Max, please. I need your help.”

  “You just said the word.”

  Five minutes later, Max was downstairs with the huge book shoved under a jacket Orrin had retrieved from the truck. The bulge looked highly suspicious, and they were counting on that. One of the librarians, a pale and skinny college kid in need of a haircut, spotted Max and narrowed his eyes. He stood up from a desk so small it was laughable. “Hey, kid,” he said a bit too loudly.

  Max smirked. It was like a scene in high school where the science nerd faced down the rebellious skater that had burned his homework in the boy’s bathroom and thrown the ashes in the toilet. But the librarian wasn’t in high school anymore. The little punk couldn’t tie the nerd to a toilet and steal from him anymore. “Hey, kid!” he yelled. A few people turned, scowling. “Sorry.” The too skinny librarian blushed and started walking toward Max who was quickly closing in on the front door.

  Just before the security strip in the back of the book set off the alarm, Kali stopped scanning titles and whispered in Orrin’s ear. “Now,” she said. He leaned against the nearest bookcase and toppled it with little effort. Like dominoes, the shelves fell one after the other. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of books went sailing in all directions, landing in a cacophony of crashes. The college guy squawked. Cries of alarm went up as employees and volunteers ran to the small crisis. Suppressing a fit of devilish giggles, Max skittered out the door.

  Chapter 56

  Using information gathered from Mack Ventures, Rion had found an address for another buyer with interest in The Siren’s Heart and given the details to Rhane. According to city records, the property was purchased within the last three months. The sale had followed customary standards, involving a realtor and a bank. Everything about the single family home seemed perfectly normal. Its white siding, colorful flower bed, and the whitewashed fence that surrounded its impeccably manicured lawn all shouted ordinary. The problem was that the house was deeded to a person involved in selling Kalista to Reapers, and it was located only sixty miles from the town where she lived.

  Rhane approached cautiously.

  It was too quiet. Nothing moved in the house or in the woods behind it. Stepping through the unlocked front door, he instantly knew River was there. All of his heightened senses came to full alert. Room by room, he cleared the house and exited through a door into the backyard.

  Crossing fifty yards of lawn, he headed for the woods. The white fence stopped at the tree line. Swinging his long legs over it, Rhane hit the ground and crouched low. He closed his eyes, found the faint whirl as it whipped through the air, and instinctively rolled. The blast of splintering wood exploded into his ears. As he ducked behind the trunk of a large pine, he heard the sound of footsteps retreating into the woods and rose to pursue.

  The trail went cold at the edge of a clearing. A canopy of trees blocked the sunlight with their branches, forming an impenetrable barrier. Despite the lack of light, Rhane saw the metallic glint of something hidden in the lush green carpet. The object was nearly centered in the clearing. Rhane was drawn to it, unable to resist the lure of its shine. He ignored the stillness that suddenly fell as his hand closed around the leather wrapped hilt. His fingertips found the ridged inlay of detail a silversmith had intricately carved in the blade a lifetime ago. Bellefuron. The metal sighed, emitting a satisfied hum as if recognizing its true owner. On top of that melodious sound, the dull roar came of air splitting perilously close to Rhane’s head. He lifted the sword overhead and behind. The air cracked again, this time with the ring of metal on metal.

  He whirled to face the man who attacked, wielding Bellefuron to meet a violent flurry of strikes. He backed to the edge of the clearing. His blood awakened to the challenge. Rhane countered. Exchanging defense for offense, he cut mercilessly at every weak point. The two men danced to the center of the clearing and fell back. Blades held in opposite high and low guards, they circled dangerously, each calculating the other’s next move.

  Rhane stared into pale blue eyes, trying to read them. “Why are you here, River?”

  “Do you remember the last time we saw one another? We were sent to hunt the siren, to take her life as payment for the ones she stole. Then why was it I that ended up feeling the pain of my brother’s blade? You betrayed us.” River charged. Feinting left, he extended a short chop aimed for Rhane’s head. Ducking just in time, Rhane lifted his sword to match the next thrust of River’s blade, leaning his weight forward when the two weapons locked.

  “I couldn’t let you hurt her,” he said.

  River grunted under the strength of Rhane’s attack. “You knew what she was. You knew what she had done.”

  “No. We weren’t there. We don’t know what happened.”

  “Hundreds of bodies burned. One of our Primes slain. You were a fool, brother. Only your precious siren had the strength to murder a Prime.”

  Rhane tensed. “I saw her afterwards. She was terrified. She was even afraid of me.”

  “Don’t you see? That fear confirms her guilt.” River shoved away. Blades free, their dance began anew. River landed harder and faster blows, fueling his charge with anger. Putting all his weight behind one maddened sweep, his blade landed near the hilt of Rhane’s sword. The aftershock sent a ripple of pain down Rhane’s forearm, tearing the heavy weapon from his hand. River continued the onslaught and knocked him roughly to the ground. “You delivered that thing into our midst,” he snarled and brought his sword down in a deadly arc.

  For the first time since entering the clearing, Rhane got angry. With bare hands, he caught River’s weapon in mid-arc, ignoring the searing pain as he wrenched it away. Tossing the sword aside, he brought his fist forward. It connected squarely. River’s head snapped backward, and hit the ground with a thud as he landed in the dirt. Rhane stood over him, eyes darkening to black. River knew better than to move.

  “Enough.” A growl rumbled low in Rhane’s throat. “If Kalista is such a monster, then why did she save them?”

  “Wh
at are you talking about?”

  “There were three children hiding miles away from the carnage in a spot only she and I knew about. Why would she kill everyone but not them?”

  “Children survived?”

  Rhane nodded. “Three of them. The twins and Rion.”

  “Brother, why didn’t you come back? If these survivors saw what happened, they could have spoken her innocence. Why would you not let them?”

  “They don’t remember anything from that day.”

  “I do not think I understand.”

  “Builders are real. They are the ones who took Kalista, erased her memories and those of the children. I spoke to one of them. He said Kalista didn’t do it.”

  “Then who killed our people? Who killed our Prime?”

  Rhane shook his head. “Unless her memories are returned, we may never know.”

  River was years younger, but he and Rhane had grown up together. They’d heard the same whispers in the village and listened to the same tales from their elders. He knew the legend of creators who’d masterminded four races, all in attempt to cover the mistake of their first. Within whispers were often origins of truth. “That’s a game changer,” he said quietly.

  Rhane nodded. “I need your help. But first, I need to know I can trust you.”

  River rolled to his side. Blood from his nose dripped steadily into the grass. He glanced up at his brother. “Is it okay if I get up now?” Impatiently, Rhane jerked him up by the collar and released him. River staggered a bit and touched a hand gingerly to his face. “Ouch.” He smiled through the pain. “That’s going to bruise.”

  “Did the Primes send you?”

  “No.”

  “Then why were you on the plane?”

  “When you left, you didn’t leave much of a trail to follow. After The Siren’s Heart disappeared from the ruins and showed up for bid, I knew you wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to reclaim that small piece of home and your past with the siren. So I went after it. What I didn’t expect to find was Kalista. If I could find her, others could too. Then the meeting was moved up to deliver the relic. I wasn’t sure if you had someone in place. So I went in.”

  “Thanks.” Rhane was deciding if he believed the story. It didn’t exactly add up.

  River glanced around. “Let us finish this inside.”

  They left the clearing. Passing the fence, Rhane saw a gleaming white row of perfect pickets marred by a section of shards and splinters. He frowned. “You shot at me.”

  River cast a faint smile over his shoulder. “But I missed.”

  “I should have hit you harder.”

  Chapter 57

  River leaned over the kitchen sink and rinsed the blood from his face. Then he grabbed a towel and tossed it to his brother. “Those are real hardwoods you’re bleeding on.”

  Rhane glanced down, noticing the trail of crimson droplets for the first time. “Sorry.” He wiped at his left hand absently.

  “You should bandage it. My blade is blood silver. Not as deadly as Bellefuron, but your wound will not heal fast.” River wanted to say more. He needed to know if the rumors about Banewolf were true. But he held his tongue and left the room. He came back wearing a fresh shirt and carrying a first aid kit. “What do you need my help with?” River tossed the red box to Rhane.

  “Gabriel has been released.”

  “Allow me to guess. He wants the siren?”

  “He thinks he can use her power against the Builders.” Rhane wrapped tape around the cleaned wound. “York is the only one besides me that has been tested in battle against such an opponent. And I am not at full strength.”

  River lifted a brow. “Oh?”

  “I can’t transform. I haven’t been able to since…I haven’t been able to in a long time.”

  “The bane wolf is gone.”

  Rhane nodded, rubbing his palm where the mark of the white wolf once branded him. The tattoos had been absent for almost four centuries. He had more or less accepted that he’d never get them back.

  Even after seeing his brother’s bare hands, it was hard for River to believe. But if what he said was true, then Rhane was in serious trouble. “Banewolf is the truest of immortals. He cannot be killed. The wearer of him cannot be killed. Without him, you will positively die in a fight against Gabriel.”

  Rhane frowned. “River, you probably know better than anyone else what I endured before becoming the bane wolf’s vessel. I survived back then. And I’ve done a pretty good job of staying alive now.”

  “But this is Gabriel. This creature was once a Prime. Even fallen, his strength is nearly unmatchable. You’ve already given up so much for her. Will you really lay down your life, too?”

  “This is about more than the siren.” Rhane briefly related the conversation he’d had with Wesley the day before.

  River grimaced. “It sounds like they aren’t giving you much of a choice.”

  “No.”

  “She could be of great help fighting against him.”

  Rhane shook his head. “You’ve seen her. She’s a kid. And she has no idea who she is or what she is capable of.” He slouched against the counter, briefly kneading his temple before folding his arms.

  River remembered seeing him do so twice before since leaving the clearing. “Maybe it is your conscience.”

  “Huh?”

  “Couldn’t it be guilt preventing you from becoming Banewolf…as well as causing your headache? You have always been the odd one, brother.”

  Rhane rolled his eyes. “You think I’m deliberately giving myself an aneurysm because I feel guilty about not telling Kalista the truth?” River was the younger, but had never been under Rhane’s command. Things were less formal between them when they were away from others. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve been exposed to large doses of monkshood twice in less than two weeks.”

  “Ouch,” River said, and took a moment to deliberate Rhane’s explanation. “So what stops you from becoming Banewolf?”

  Rhane blinked. He hadn’t considered it. “I don’t know. I don’t even know why Banewolf chose me in the first place.”

  “It was to balance the omen of your disfigurement.” When Rhane’s eyes pulsed, River looked away and decided to change the subject. “You should tell her.”

  “I can’t. She’ll never forgive me.”

  “I have seen her love for you.”

  “And you’ve forgotten how much she loved him.” Feeling his chest tighten, Rhane took a shuddering breath and willed logic to replace emotion. “This girl doesn’t remember us. And she’s so inexperienced. I can’t risk sending her into a rage that even I could not dispel, especially if I am the cause of it.”

  “Rhane--”

  He cut him off. “Let me save her from this. Then I somehow I will tell her.”

  “Okay.”

  Rhane looked at his brother, searching for a way to reassure him. River needed to believe there was a chance. “My instinct to survive will win out over guilt, if that is the cause of this. Banewolf will return.”

  “For your sake, brother, I hope that is true.”

  “Even so, the fight with Gabriel won’t be easy. If I can’t kill him, and don’t stand to receive her…” He swallowed. “Do what you have to do.”

  “Why me? York is your second.”

  “He’s already gotten too close to her.”

  River inclined his head. “If you are sure it’s what you want.”

  Rhane grimaced. “It is. I need to know that she’ll be safe.”

  “Then I will do it.”

  Rhane cleared his throat. “How is Father?”

  “I lied before when I said the Primes did not bid me here.”

  “I figured as much.”

  River left the sink, crossing the room to where his brother stood. He quietly regarded Rhane in a new light. With eyes that knew the truth. Now he understood why their father had sent him. “Jehsi promises you will be granted mercy. He wants you to come home. Returning Bellefuron confirms hi
s oath.”

  Rhane was shaking his head. “I can’t come back. Not now.”

  “I know.” Extending his right hand, River placed it on the back of Rhane’s neck. “He misses you.” River swallowed. “I never had the chance...” he faltered. “I’m sorry.”

  After a moment, Rhane leaned forward, clasping his brother’s neck as their foreheads met. In that silent bond, old wounds began to heal and were forgiven.

  #

  The master of the shipyard frowned impatiently over the clipboard. “You’re over by 1200 pounds.”

  The older crewman scratched his head. “Don’t know how that happened, Al. We unloaded what was there. The numbers from the containers matched up.”

  Al frowned harder. “Your numbers have been slipping lately. Are you losing it in your old age, Tom?”

  “Age has nothing to do with it. I got a pretty lady keeping me up at night. Messes with the concentration.” Tom winked.

  “I’ll let it pass. But this is the last time. Give me the ledger, and I’ll sign off. I’ve also got a date tonight. I’m hoping my concentration will get jumbled.”

  “I thought you were married, boss.”

  “I am. The date is with my wife. We’re seeing a therapist, trying to fix this shipwreck of a marriage. He suggested that we date.”

  Tom shook his head. “That stuff is a load of crap.” He watched his superior scrawl a hurried signature. “I don’t see any reason to give some quack a hundred dollars an hour to fix our problems. Done just fine without it.”

  “Two hundred dollars,” Al mumbled and handed back the paperwork. The crewman accepted it gratefully. “You’re fifty-seven years old and your wife is twenty-two. The fourth one, isn’t she?”

  Tom put both hands on his waist and grinned. “What’s your point?”

  “Nothing. You’re a lucky man.” Al adjusted his cap as he left. There was enough time to stop and get his wife flowers before dinner. White roses were her favorite.

  Chapter 58

  It didn’t take long to find the tiny bookshop, Clever Dust Booksellers. It was located only a few miles from where Kali worked. She was determined to get answers. A book with a nearly seven-hundred-year-old painting of Rhane had to lead to some of them.