“Like what?” Shasa asks. From her tone I know whatever he says won’t be answer enough.
“She has the tears, Shasa.” His voice is soft, almost apologetic. Tender, even.
I cling harder to the tree. He told her. After I asked him not to. I don’t know who this girl is, that he answers her questions far more readily than he ever did mine. A dull ache pounds in my temples. I can’t believe he told her.
“Are you serious?” she asks.
A struggle ensues like he’s holding her back. Twigs and leave crunch again, and there’s a loud crack as if a branch has been broken from a tree.
“No. Leave her alone.” Talon’s voice is embedded with the agitation I’ve been expecting, as well as some strain as if she’s putting up a good fight.
“But my mistress. Those belong to her. Don’t you see? I can use them to set her free!” More leaves rustle.
“They call to Ambry, Shasa,” says Talon, again in that apologetic yet strained voice. It’s bizarre how similar their accents are. It’s got to be a Feihrian thing.
“Take them from her! You’re strong, what’s your problem?”
“I tried. I can’t do it.”
“How do you know?” she asks, sounding as if she doesn’t want to believe him.
“I’ve tried to hold them, and they wouldn’t let me be until they were back in her hands.”
Shasa guffaws and leaves crunch. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’re tears.”
My pocket burns. I cup my hand to it.
“They’re not like other tears.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason you’ve kept her around?”
Her question stings. My knees shake, and I dig my nails into the serrated bark. His defensive, I tried! is confirmation enough. Never mind his ardent apologies and pleas for me to stay. He played me. Just so he could get me to give him the tears.
His voice becomes the harsh, brusque sound he used on me in our first days together. “What is that supposed to mean?”
I’m dying to look around the tree, to see their faces. His face.
“Does she know?”
My lungs trap whatever air is in my chest. Do I know what?
“Just stay away from her, Shasa. Please.”
I take a deep breath and hold it, waiting for their voices to die away as they continue walking. I don’t want to hear anymore. I’ve heard enough.
I just stand there, tree bark and sticky sap at my back, soaking in the cold air and the night noises. After a while I break away from the thought-slapping silence and head back toward our camp.
Shasa and Talon aren’t there, and neither is the wizard. The other sleeping bags have been laid out. I stand in the middle near the fire, more isolated than ever. I’m out of place, like a book trying to squeeze myself onto a shelf where there isn’t any more room. A shelf where all the other books have been for years.
It’s late and sleep pesters my eyes, so I concede by sinking onto the icy silk of my sleeping bag near the downed log, letting the fire Solomus started scorch my cheeks. It’s still crackles as high as it was when he first ignited it, though it doesn’t burn as badly as the simmering in my chest.
Betrayal weighs me down like hardening mud. I can’t move—I’m not even sure if I want to. Smoke billows toward me on a soft gust of wind. I close my eyes until it passes.
After a while, Solomus returns.
“Thanks for the fire,” he mumbles before magicking another sleeping bag from his pocket and tucking into it.
I’m confused. He must not remember starting it. My head starts to throb, and I rub my temples. It’s been a really long night. Just as I wonder what time it is, Solomus’s snores resonate over the trees.
“He’s zonked, isn’t he?” Shasa asks, swaying out from behind the trees. “Aw, and look. He left me a place to sleep.” She points to the extra bag lying at my feet.
I bristle. She’s actually talking to me. Up until now she’s ignored me except for the dirty looks she launches every time Talon looks at me or sneezes in my direction.
“I never introduced myself,” she says, plopping down on the bag beside me. My bag. I tighten and slant away.
“I know who you are.”
She picks up a stick and pokes the fire, making the orange parts skitter and dance. “Things can’t have been easy for you, leaving your home and traveling with someone you hardly know.”
Her voice is too forced. I squint at her. Even the features of her face are rounded and full. Big eyes. Kissable lips. I hitch my jaw. She’s baiting me, but I’m not going to bite.
“Especially with how secretive he can be.” Then she laughs as if at some personal joke and finally looks straight into my eyes with her brown ones.
“I know—I’ve been with him since we were small, since before he was taken. He always kept to himself.” Her attention goes back to the fire, but the amusement never leaves her face. “I’ll bet he hasn’t even told you we’re engaged. That would be so like him.”
Engaged. The word doesn’t shock me as much as it should. He would’ve told me. Wouldn’t he?
No. He’s the master at keeping things locked up.
I slam down the emerging rage. There’s no emotion in my voice, and I want it that way. “He didn’t tell me much.”
My lungs are pumping with adrenaline as if I’ve been training with Talon for the last two hours, though I’ve hardly moved. I refuse to look at her, and instead focus on a rock next to the upended root of the tree I’m sleeping beneath.
“Don’t worry,” she says as if comforting me. “You’ll be going home soon now that I’m here, I’d imagine. Then you won’t have to worry about his secrets.”
She tosses her stick into the fire and stands, brushing the sides of her pants. “I bet you could even leave tonight, if you wanted. As for me, I’m going to get some sleep.” She looks right at me as if she’s waiting for me to say something.
I don’t give a thousand moyen if she’s engaged to Talon, I tell myself. He only told me he loved me, won my trust; he only captured my heart with such force that I’m not likely to get it back again.
Before I know it, Shasa is on me. Her hands pin mine to the scratchy ground, and she smacks me in the face.
“Give me the tears! I know you have them!”
I kick my legs up into her stomach, but she bounds off, pulling me up with her and thrusting me hard against a tree trunk. Its rough ridges scrape my back. I let out a squeal.
She’s a blur, but I defend myself the best I can, and it seems to startle her. I call my magic and anticipate her moves so she can barely touch me. It comes to life, but I hold it back, maintaining control of my movements. I don’t want to hurt her, not like I did to that female soldier.
“Give me those tears!” she shrieks again. “They’re mine! I’m the one who sold them!”
I duck my head away as she drives her fist toward my face. Her knuckles hit the trunk with a thump.
“Shasa!” Talon’s voice comes, and she’s pulled off of me. My nerves are strung tight, wired and ready.
Shasa’s pristine façade vanishes. Her sleek hair is disheveled, and she’s panting, bedraggled.
“She—” she begins, gesturing to me.
“Go cool off,” Talon orders. “Get out of here!”
Shasa glares at him, her chest heaving. “I can’t believe you taught her how to fight. The oath, Talon. Doesn’t it mean anything to you?” She sinks the condescending look in before plodding off.
Talon exhales, running a hand through his rumpled, sandy hair. My back throbs where she thrust me into the tree.
“What oath?” I ask, the anger I’ve been subduing all evening coming to life. I pound his shoulders. “What oath!”
He doesn’t even stagger, just captures my wrists before I can repeat the gesture. His hands fetter around mine, holding them to his chest. He keeps his eyes closed as if struggling inwardly.
“We make an oath not to share our secrets with those not of our race.
I betrayed it long before you, so don’t worry about it.”
“What do you mean?” I peer past him at the lump that is Solomus. He is, amazingly, still snoring.
“I taught the Arcaians our ways, our tactics,” Talon snaps. “I betrayed my people in the worst possible way. I promised myself I’d make it up to them somehow. Then maybe I’d be able to go home.”
“They won’t let you go home?”
“I don’t know,” he says, sounding defeated. He lets me go and turns away. “I don’t dare show my face.”
“That’s why you want the tears. Not to stop the war.”
He raises his head to the stars. His voice is inflamed and purposeful. “I’m going to take revenge on Tyrus for what he’s made me do. And I’m going to do it to avenge my people, for what he took from them. Then I can return without shame.”
“You could do that now—”
“You don’t understand.”
He stalks off into the trees again.
“I can’t believe you told her,” I say to his back. It’s barely audible.
My mind is as unsettled as trees by the wind. He told her. After I begged him not to. And the thing I really can’t comprehend is that my eyes still burn the echo of unshed tears.
But it’s not even the devastation, the outrage and pure hurt bilging around in my chest that keeps me awake. The tears poke me, pricking my neck. My only hope of saving Ren rests with the sirens. It’s time to go.
"Welcome, Ambry,” Estelle says.
The sun is rising, streaming into the stone gorge at the base of the cliff. Early morning air nibbles at my skin. I walked all night, but my body doesn’t register the gripping protest in my muscles. My eyes are coarse, but I can’t think about being tired.
The majestic, winged woman dissects me with her glittering pink eyes while her beauty fills mine. But it’s not as striking this time. Not only am I semi-exhausted from walking all night, but I expect to see her beauty this time and so I’m prepared for it.
Either way, Estelle’s loveliness is all through her, in her very demeanor. It’s who she is.
“I’ve got something for you, Estelle.”
The red-headed siren nods regally and flutters her dazzling, sparkle-webbed wings. A twinge of sadness settles in at the thought of those wings being clipped.
My pocket nudges at me, and I reach inside to expose the small, twisted, glowing jar to the siren.
Estelle laughs. Annoyance stains her voice like tarnished silver. “What do I want tears for, Ambry Csille? What need have I for them? Your wizard’s spell did not extend to us. We still cry. If we choose to.”
I’m not about to hand them over to her, no matter what the tears want. She played me the last time I was here—I intend to do the same thing. I’m glad she can’t see through my chest; otherwise, my heart would completely give my fear away. Please let this work.
“These aren’t just any human tears, Estelle. They’re number one on the Arc’s want list. Craven’s too.”
Estelle cocks her head to one side, apparently taking the jar in my hand seriously this time. “The Arcaians desire these tears?”
“Enough to search all of Itharia for them.”
“You assure it?” she asks, transferring her gaze from the jar to me. Even if I wanted to, there’s no way I could lie to those bottomless eyes.
“You bet.”
She reaches out delicate fingers to take the jar from my hand. I flick it back to my chest.
“I want your song.”
Talon said he can’t get past thousands of men. But this way I can.
She inhales and looks down her nose at me. After a long pause, she says, “That kind of gift comes with a heavy price. We do not give the song lightly.”
“Okay. I understand. It was worth a try.” I tuck the tears into my pocket, turn my back to her, and begin my descent down the stony stairs to the leafy brush below. It takes longer than I thought, but I finally hear her call after me.
“Wait,” she says, her voice strained.
I face her, doing my best to look inquisitive.
“You sure you won’t trade your male companion? They are not all made as handsome as he.”
I’m not entirely sure, but I think the siren just made a joke. “Your promise…”
Her lips spread in a perfect half circle. “He’s safe. I promise.” Her wings ruffle impatiently behind her, spreading the smell of orchids.
“Those tears,” she says, bobbing her chin toward me. “You are sure the song is worth the trade to you?”
That’s about the only thing I can get from her. Unless I ask for one of their robes or a leaf from their meadow or something. But I can’t see why I’d need any of that.
I place the jar into her palm, air shuddering past my lips. A weight lifts from my chest, and the tears send out soothing hums to my spine.
“For a siren to drink this would be an abomination, as our powers have been completely unaffected by the spell that created them. I would be able to destroy every Arcaian in an instant, but it would make me ugly. Evil.” She quivers. “I will have to use them in some other way.”
I can’t believe she’s sharing her thoughts with me, but I like what I hear, and so do the tears. This must be why they wanted to be taken to the sirens. Because they wouldn’t be drunk.
Estelle looks at me through strained, half-lidded eyes. “You don’t ask for the song to lure your young companion, do you? Because I tell you now, that is unnecessary.”
“That’s what you think,” I say under my breath, feeling the same miserable sadness I felt last night. He betrayed me. I shouldn’t pine after someone who will forget me the minute his mission is completed.
“No, I’m not going to use it on him.”
Mischief lands back in Estelle’s eyes, and she fluffs her lustrous red hair and straightens her sheer covering.
“Your heart is the most powerful thing you have. Even your mind can never win against it.”
I blink the dryness from my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Why do you think you were able to save Talon Haraway that day? Only a male seeing his true love can break the spell of a siren's song. Whenever we take someone, we’re compelled to let anyone who wants to free him try.”
I breathe, but my thoughts can hardly make their way through.
“No one before you has succeeded.”
I shake my head. She doesn’t know what he did. What he plans to do. That isn’t love.
“If you had failed, you would not have been permitted to leave us, not after having seen our meadow. You would have received our song and become as we. And you would have helped as we drove your love so insane that he died, turning to stone from the obsession.”
“But I didn’t—” I can hardly say the words. “He—he broke it. It wasn’t me.” I can’t believe what she’s saying. If it was true, then he wouldn’t have told Shasa about the tears.
“What is the meaning of true love? Is it that only one person loves? You made your feelings clear when you demanded we return him to you. His were clear when it worked.” Estelle almost sounds sympathetic, as if she knows what’s going on.
The back of my throat grows thicker. I draw in a breath.
“Are you going to give me the song?”
The tears are still in her hand. That was stupid, I realize, to pass them over without getting my part first.
“I must know why you want it.”
Tiredness irritates and fosters my impatience. “To be completely honest, the tears called to me to be entrusted to you, but I didn’t want to hand them over without getting something in return.”
“You are learning our ways already.”
“Something about that song…it’s so enticing. And powerful. It called to me that day.”
“That is usually its aim.”
“I want it.” What else does she want me to say? I’m not going to tell her about Ren.
“Everything has its price. You know this, be
cause you did not simply hand the tears over to me. But you must use the song with extreme caution. And if you weren’t offering me something I truly desired, no known force could have persuaded me to share the sirens’ power, pride, and treasure with you. It’s what makes us who we are.”
I’m pretty sure she could just fly off with the tears. She definitely has integrity. It means a lot that she’s willing to even discuss this with me.
“I can read your heart, Ambry Csille.” Her glittering eyes are hypnotic now. Magnetic. They absorb every grain of my attention. I can’t tear myself away from them for all the tears in Itharia.
Estelle’s tone deepens and becomes entrancing. Her voice disconnects my brain so it’s all I hear, and every nerve I have wants to bend to her will.
“You will not share the song with another soul, but hold it as the gift it is. You will cherish and protect it. And you will not divulge to anyone that it has been entrusted to you.”
I feel an unspoken jab with each of her commands, and I know it’s time for me to answer.
“Yes,” I reply, though the sound is ghostlike.
Estelle’s tone becomes conversational, and the trance her glance held on me breaks. “This is not the true version, as that would not remain only in your heart but would spread through your veins and make you like us. You will have only one chance to sing the song.”
That’s fine. I only need it once.
“Should you desire this life, that is an altogether separate request requiring a different offer—the ultimate commitment. Do you understand?”
I swallow, unsure if I really do. But my lips speak. “Yes.”
“Take my hands.” They’re soft and warm where I expect cold and hardness. Her emerald-blue wings expand regally behind her. A hypnotic, relaxing yet stringent binding courses from her touch. Not in place of my magic, but running alongside it.
“Your heart is bound,” she says. Her words are tangible; they route through me. “Breathe me in, Ambry.”
I close my eyes and take in air. I feel the rustle of feathers, smell the stirring of petals mixed with human skin. And without seeing it, I know Estelle releases her wings to their full span; they now surround us. With each breath I take, my tension releases and I submit myself to trust Estelle completely.
Such A Secret Place (Stolen Tears Book 1) Page 24