“But—” I scuff a hand under my nose. “I thought you never gave people back.”
“You heard the Song, yes?”
“Um, yes?” Where is she going with this?
“Then I will give you this one occasion.” She inclines her head.
“Break the spell, sure.” The spell of a siren. When I barely figured out how to even access my magic, let alone use it all the time. I kick myself for not practicing more.
“How—?”
“That is something only you will know.”
I bob my head, forcing confidence to return. Every nerve I have pulses. My chin meets the air. “Where is he?”
The siren spreads her wings to their full span. They’re mysterious, like sewn, glistening algae and as if their webbing is jeweled with captured droplets of morning dew. She throws her shoulders back, ruffles her scarlet hair, and with one last look at me, leaps gracefully into the air, ascending to the upper, unreachable ledge.
Her shape gradually grows smaller until she disappears from sight.
A burning hint veins beneath my eyes, sending prickles to my nose and tightness to my throat.
“Talon,” I whisper.
I’ve only heard stories of the sirens, and until I stumbled through that weird archway, I wasn’t even sure if they were real. I should know better than to expect them to be reasonable. They’re probably up there laughing at me. Of course she said I can try to free him, but how am I supposed to do that from down here? On the cold stone, unable to fly like her. Unable to reach him.
The red-haired siren returns, and another lands at her side. She’s equally beautiful, though she’s completely different with creamed ebony skin, black hair, and the same pink diamond eyes.
“You ascend of your own choice?” the second one asks.
“Of course I do.” The tears hum across the distance, but it’s not insistent, as if they know what I need to do.
“Take our hands,” the sirens say together. They share give-and-take glances, each hiding a smile like they’re holding back sniggers.
Funny or not, I’m doing this. My hands slip into their soft ones. With a current of air their wings expand, and they grip me tightly as their feet lift from the stone. My stomach drops. I look toward our destination rather than the ever-increasing distance between myself and the ground.
I can’t help but wonder where they’re taking me and if Talon’s really there or if I’m leading myself into a trap. It’s a risk I have to take. I have to get him back.
We rise to the cliff’s edge faster than I expect, and my boots touch the stone surface as their feet do. They release my hands, but I hardly notice.
Coconut palm trees line the border of a gleaming pool and shoot into the air, their tall fans kissing the sky. The meadow is lush with vegetation. Plants with purplish edges on their large stamens clump near bushy-leaved ferns. Flowers, flat and star-like, and in all kinds of colors, pepper the meadow.
I shake myself and scan for Talon. Dozens of sirens lounge among the greenery, grooming themselves, talking, reading books. Some sew. Others tend to plant life or the stones on which plants crawl. A few hold small rabbits in their laps.
Statues of men and older boys are scattered across the meadow. Each holds the same desperate, addicted, painful desire on his stationary face. They’re flopped over, laying on the ground or secured to trees.
A living man is tied to a nearby tree, and the rope appears to be the only thing holding him up. His skin is pallid and ashen; his eyes no longer have irises but are puttied over as if with clay. His cheeks are sunken, his mouth goggles. Stone has taken over his feet, cementing up to his shins.
A blonde siren wearing a silky, intricate yellow robe with sheer sleeves saunters over and runs her tongue along his cheek. He shudders and reaches out for her. She nuzzles against his throat until he groans. The stone creeps higher, up to his knees. She laughs and flutters away, leaving him gawping. Broken.
I glare at the redheaded siren. I take back my earlier thoughts. She’s not exquisite—she’s disgusting.
I run, pushing through sickeningly pretty girls, tromping through the shallow pool, searching face after face. An older boy with sandy brown hair lies withering in the leaves. I bolt to him. His face has lost any trace of understanding. His eyes have no perception, but they’re not quite stoned-over yet either. He’s not Talon.
I whirl around, nausea rising. How am I supposed to find him?
“No,” I say aloud. If he’s this bad already, I don’t see how I’ll ever break this power they have.
Across the pool, I spot Talon lounging among climbing vines with glossy, olive-green leaves wringing their way around a wide-trunked tree. A siren with brown pixie-like hair drapes flawless legs across his lap, her cleavage close to his face as she runs a nimble hand through his tangled locks.
An angry dragon rises in my chest, emitting small flames, igniting my will to reach him. I’m going to punch that stupid minx.
I plod past the sirens, tromp through greenery toward them. Neither Talon nor the siren pays me any attention. Her fingers trace his face, and his hand moves to her waist.
“Get off him,” I say, skin pulsing. My voice is loud in the stillness of lazy pleasure. Neither of them moves.
Something erupts from my bones. Magic kindles to life, sizzling and fuming like the feelings in my chest.
“Did you hear me? I said get off!” I shove at her while snakes of shiny electricity pour and ribbon across my forearms. My nape itches with singeing heat.
The shove sends her flying through the air, but instead of landing against the rock, her wings expand and she catches herself. I assume a stance Talon taught me. Bring it, I think, fully expecting a cat fight over him. But she simply flutters to the other end of the pool.
Talon hasn’t spoken, but his mouth gapes, and his eyes search as if he can’t see anything with her gone. Another siren slinks past, and Talon’s fanatical attention pegs to her. His green eyes are glazed over, turning leaden. He crawls toward her, muscles defying the confines of his shirt, fingers getting lost among blades of grass.
“No!” I screech and lunge for him, knocking him over. I take him by the shoulders and shake him as hard as I can. Nothing happens. His eyes wander, and he pushes me off to crawl toward a different group of sirens and their long, immaculate limbs at the pool’s edge. I heave him back and slap a hand across his cheek.
“What’s wrong with you? Talon! It’s me, Ambry!”
He pauses, though his clouded eyes remain on the group of seducers. A flicker of hope rises in my chest. “Ambry Csille. Remember?”
My brain files through thoughts, trying to find the most pertinent things to get his attention back to me. “The tears. And the Arcaians? You saved me from the Arcs, remember?”
He moves away from me again, and I panic, crawling alongside him, tugging at him. “You’re teaching me to fight. Talon, please!”
Desperation takes hold, and I slam him to the ground the way I would if we were training, forcing his arms down with my legs so I can smack his face again. His lids flutter.
I decide to try scolding. “You snap out of this right now, Talon.” His head angles away from me to gaze at the sirens. I follow the line of his sight, taking in dozens of other frozen men, men who had no chance of returning. I wonder if they’re still in there, trapped with their crazy lust, or if they’re aware of how foolish they were and what they’ve lost now that they’ve become lawn decorations.
That can’t happen to Talon. It can’t. Dread burrs in my throat, claws at my eyes, and I break. I fold myself to his chest, hearing his faint heartbeat.
“You’re stronger than this. You’re a fighter, fight this. Fight it and come back to me.”
He looks at me without any recognition.
“I can’t be without you.” My voice wavers.
“The tears, I mean,” I say, checking myself. “I can’t do this without you. I need to get them back.” Weak with emotion, I plead with h
is blank stare. The tears tease me from a distance, as if they know something I don’t.
He pushes himself up. His gloved hand lies on my thigh, and I take it and hold it to my cheek. I don’t know what else to do. She said I’ll have to leave without him. I can’t do that.
The tingling in my eyes grows stronger and surges from my bones. “Remember me, Talon. Please.” I lean my face into his hand. His fingers touch my lips, and I kiss his callused skin.
He gasps and clutches my hand holding his, crushing my finger joints together. The stone over his eyes shatters, leaving sense in its place. I draw in a breath.
He blinks several times while his eyes slowly return to their usual shade of bluish-green. And then they lock with mine, sending spears of heat through me.
“Ambry,” he says.
I find myself in his arms without realizing how. His embrace is warm and strong, molding my softness to his hard edges. I breathe in his sweat, and the pine of his skin. Every piece of me warms, trembles with delight. His fingers stroke my hair, tease the skin at my neck and sends shivers down my back.
I forget about the sirens, the tears—about everything but being here and having that heartbreakingly gorgeous smile directed at me. It’s different this time. Boyish.
“Well done,” says the familiar ringing voice behind me.
Not knowing who moves first, we rise. Talon leans on me. His hand brushes the hair on my arms. I struggle to support both him and myself, but we tramp through the flowers to the granite edge of the meadow.
At least ten sirens watch in obvious wonder. Each is spectacular in her own individual beauty, including the pixie-haired one.
I want to sock them all.
I tug Talon to stand in front of the flame-haired siren.
“I am Estelle,” she says. “And to every gift must an equal offer be made.”
They form a semi-circle around us. My glance sweeps across each of them. I should’ve known there was a condition.
“Are you saying that after you tricked my friend away from me, you expect me to give you something in return for letting him go?” I can’t hide the incredulity in my voice.
“It’s no small thing what you have done,” she says without shame.
“What do you want?” I cling tighter to Talon’s hand slung across my shoulder. “I don’t have anything.”
Estelle raises her hand to her chin as I saw her do before. “I should ask for you in place of him.”
Talon’s shaky grip on me tightens.
“You can’t do that,” he growls and then stumbles. I steady him, a hand on his rock-hard abs. My skin shivers. How far is the drop back to the mountainside? Can we make it if we jump?
Estelle seems amused by our reactions. “But I think I’d rather have the answer to a question.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. Talon breathes heavily, quaking beside me. By the angels, what did they do to him?
“What’s your question?” I ask.
“You mentioned a rescue from the Arcaians. I would like to know how this was accomplished. You are enemies of the Arcaians?”
That’s more than one question, I want to say. And what does she care? I just want to get off this ranxid mountain, to get as far from here as I can.
To my surprise, Talon speaks. “We are enemies of both Craven and the Arcaians. They were after Ambry for something she had in her possession.”
“He got there just in time to stop them from killing me,” I add, lasering my glare on her.
The sirens look at one another, muttering. Not even Estelle says anything to us for several minutes. Of all the questions she could ask, why that one?
“Very well,” she says finally, after conferring with her sisters. “Then I ask for your friendship, Ambry.”
Friendship. She can’t be serious.
“Unfortunately for you, young savior,” she says, turning to Talon with a smirk on her seductive face, “you are male and not open to friendship with the sirens. Though you have my word, none of us will attempt you again.”
I swap an uneasy glance with Talon, and I know he must be thinking the same thing I am. After all of this she’s releasing us, just like that? But if it means we can leave, I’m not about to argue.
I smooth a hand over my sullied clothes. “Sure. Friendship sounds good.”
Talon clears his throat and finally lifts his head. “So is there a pulley? How do we get down from here?”
Estelle moves toward us. Talon straightens as if he’s getting stronger. The movement puts more pressure on my already aching shoulders.
Now that I’m done with my objective, the tears prick at me again, calling to me. I know where they are—it’s not far down from where we stand, on the opposite side of the mountain.
Again, two sirens each offer me a hand. Two others do the same for Talon. They spread their vast wings and rise. My stomach lurches, and I grip their hands tighter. I don’t take my eyes from Talon, from the lock of hair across his forehead, his long lashes lowered and his head angled down to the ground below.
Once we touch stone, they release our hands. With nods, they spring into the air, leaving us without a word.
It takes a conscious effort to move my limbs. Talon and I are both silent on our way down the mountain, though his gaze lands on me more than once. He lifts a low-hanging branch, holding it aside for me to follow.
“Ambry,” he begins. His mouth hangs open for a moment, and then he seems to think better of it. “Um, here.” He steps aside on the makeshift trail, allowing me to pass and join his side.
We walk side by side for several beats. A fire kindles in my chest, a warm stirring that brings his image under my lids any time they close. And his voice. I shudder inside. That low, stirring lullaby with every word he speaks. I keep hearing it in my subconscious, reawakening the memory of his rough but gentle touch, his rugged, capable hands, the way I felt in his arms.
“I can’t believe that worked,” I say, dying for conversation. To know what he’s thinking, if he’s really back to himself.
“I think they weren’t expecting it to either.”
I feel like I’m about to burst. How can I hold this in? How can I stand it? Especially when he keeps everything so deeply hidden I need a shovel just to get a decent response from him. I know hardly anything about him.
“Why should it have?” I go on. “With them all gorgeous, and me…well…” I gesture to my grungy clothes. “I wasn’t even competition for them.”
I wonder if he remembers anything. Me kissing his hand, and the way he held me when he reemerged. Did he react that way because of their spell? Or was he truly glad to see me again? His silence is agonizing.
“You were definitely competition,” he says.
A smile sprouts on my face. What does that mean? “It was amazing,” I say, forcing myself to say something.
Talon pauses and pins his translucent eyes to mine. His lips tug as if he’s going to speak. Without a word, he takes my hand in his.
“I should have known this was Mt. Rhine. I was so focused on other things, I didn’t realize.”
“I had no idea where it was,” I say, flustered.
He stares at our hands, his thumb tracing over my palm. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about men disappearing at the base of this mountain, Ambry. And I was nearly one of them. I want to thank you—”
Talon, saying thank you?
“If it hadn’t been for you…”
I stare at the lines on his face. I barely notice the scars now, with the masterpiece hidden beneath them. His gaze catches my breath.
“Plug your ears next time,” I say with a smile, turning away. He keeps his hold on me, and the touch sears all the way to my bones. My magic flickers in response.
“You were incredible,” he says, his voice uneven. “You are incredible. Up there…” he trails off, looking to the ground and releasing me. “I’m lucky you’re the one the tears chose.”
The space between us pulses. I take a tentative st
ep toward him.
“I don’t get compliments from you very often," I tell him. "So that’s probably more valuable than friendship with the sirens.”
A smile spreads across his face, lifting his cheeks and adding sparks to his eyes. I have to look away.
"Ambry. Wake up.” Something jostles my shoulder, and I jolt upward. A blurry image of Talon hangs above me with the sun as his backdrop. It takes several ticks before I realize I’m not dreaming anymore.
The fire behind him snaps its blazoned fingers at me, sending out clouds of smoke in my direction.
“Hey there,” he says. “You were really out of it.”
“Yeah,” I say, rubbing away sleep while clinging to pieces of the dream I can’t quite remember. The cool morning air sneaks against my back and into my sleeping bag. I run my hands through my hair and tie the mess up in an elastic. “Took me a while to fall asleep.”
The tears greet me, buzzing their satisfaction that I’m so close, along with their displeasure that I haven’t gotten to them yet. I slip a peek at the teardrop inside my shirt. It’s dull against my skin.
Talon’s wearing his blue shirt. It’s looser than his other one, but I can still make out the lines of his arms. He looks rested. And gorgeous. Every time I look at him I catch something new and attractive in his face, something I can’t help but lap up and try to figure out, something else that makes my mouth water. This time it’s the curve of his lips.
He squints, and his mouth fidgets. He offers me the mug in his hands. The sides steam against my cold fingers.
“You okay?” he asks, sounding confused.
Am I still staring? Blunderhead. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I take a sip. The taste of cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg swarms in my mouth.
He kneels by my sleeping bag, tapping the black aud against his knee. “Someone from Cadehtraen was summoned for execution this morning.”
“Who?” My dad instantly comes to mind. Is it him? Or my mom?
“Some guy named Clarke Hawkes.”
I nearly gag on my next sip of wassail. Gwynn’s stepdad. That axrat who beat and molested my best friend for years. I reach for Talon’s aud, and he lets me take it.
Such A Secret Place (Stolen Tears Book 1) Page 16